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#its just me and my love for minor characters against the world
forlix · 4 months
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‧ ❆ ˚ 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝・h.j.
— stars flare brightest in the absence of light, and you see his clearer than day.
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words・6.4k
pairing・han jisung x female reader
genres・college!au, friends with benefits to lovers, snowed in trope, smut, MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS THAT INTERACT WILL BE BLOCKED, angst, ANGST, you have been warned, hurt/comfort, i can't write normal fluff to save my life, happy ending!!!, semi-slow burn
warnings・depictions of insomnia, recurring nightmares, graphic violence, character death (in the nightmare), fears of abandonment and falling in love, alcohol consumption, humans helping each other heal. smut warnings under the cut
playlist・stay - acoustic by jonah baker・all of me by big gigantic・babydoll (speed) by ari abdul・oasis by exo・volcano by han
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a/n・hi, here's my second installment of winter falls. writing this was immensely challenging and twice as meaningful, so feedback would be greatly appreciated. thank you to my may for being so fucking instrumental in piecing together this rollercoaster—this one is for you, i love you. thanks to my sahar for everything, always and forever. and thanks to all of you for being here. happy new year ♡
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smut warnings・spitplay, unprotected piv, please practice safe sex!!!, car sex, dirty talk, jisung's dick game is kinda crazy, squirting, lots of aftercare
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Every time Jisung closes his eyes, he sees somebody’s back.
It’s leaving. Traipsing somewhere he can’t follow. He tries to chase it—he always does, he never learns—but the premise doesn’t so much as surface before the ghosts circling around his ankles go for his throat instead. They snare him by the shoulders, force him to his knees, slam his forehead into the permafrost hard enough to break bone. They make sure the next time he tries to move will be the last.
So he remains, keeled over in the cold, until tearwater clings to his lower lashes in small icicles. Until bloodstained snow coats his lips like the manifestation of a curse. Until the back has disappeared.
Who does it belong to? He’s left to wonder. Where is it going?
Why can’t I follow?
Then he wakes up.
No longer does he lay awake for hours afterwards, scouring the dream’s every frame for his answers.
Now, he tosses and turns in clammy sheets until his exhaustion wins.
Now, he welcomes sleep like a miracle granted by some pitying god.
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You see him.
Through a living room packed with red-faced partygoers and dissected by oscillating strobe lights, albeit, but you see him anyways. 
Jisung can barely make out the rest of your face—he blames the lighting, or the soju, or both—but your eyes alone turn him to glass. Not a fancy vase through which the world distorts, but a simple pane that puts him and his ghosts on full display.
He hopes you like horror movies.
Felix knows you, because of course he does, and Jisung has never been happier to call the extroverted Australian his friend than when you come over to say hi. You stumble out of the crowd all smudged makeup and sweaty skin, your figure hugged by a short black dress with two diamond-shaped openings just above your hips, your glossy lips curved in a drunken smile. Jisung immediately wants it against his mouth.
Instead, it disappears behind his friend as you pull him into a quick hug. A few wisps of your hair dust over Jisung’s arm, momentarily replacing the smells of grease and vodka with cherry blossoms and vanilla.
“Lix, hey!”
“Darling, it’s good to see you! Feels like it’s been ages.”
“I know, right? How are you? How is everything?”
“Good, thank you. Just happy the semester’s over.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Then you go to lift your drink and discover thin air in its place. “Or I won’t. Whoops.”
This prompts Jisung’s first contribution to the conversation—and his first effortless laugh in a long while.
“Eventful night, huh?”
He meets your gaze from all of two feet away this time, and his knees buckle under him. That gaze, fuck. So clear and true, like a prism of glass refracting light into a rainbow. He would let you refract him a thousand times over if he had any light to give.
“Maybe,” you giggle. “Seems I’m a little too happy the semester’s over.”
“Wanna not get a drink to celebrate?”
Your expression flickers. Not in a bad way, more like you hadn’t expected him to ask so soon—or for yourself to have your answer so quickly.
A strobe light catches right under your eye and refracts the color in your blushing face. A rainbow.
“I’d like that.”
He tilts his head towards the kitchen. You give Felix’s elbow a light squeeze before moving past him; he gives Felix a glimpse of his growing smile before falling into step behind you. The blonde shakes his head, throws back the rest of his beer, then swivels at the sound of someone calling his name from across the foyer.
Felix will get drunk enough to forget the sight of you leading Jisung up the stairs, two bottles of pink lemonade tucked under your arm. Nothing stronger, as promised.
Jisung asks his question an entire minute after he intends to. “Where are we going, by the way?”
“Somewhere I can see your pretty face without having to squint,” you reply, and his stomach tumbles like a schoolboy with a valentine.
You don’t stop at the second floor. Instead, you nudge open a door Jisung swears just materialized to his left and emerge into the night air.
It’s warm for December, but he’s still met with chilly winds licking down the sides of his neck. That’s not the only reason he shudders, though. Below his feet, he finds a metal platform akin to that of a fire escape. Above his head, a staircase that looks one forceful step away from dropping off the side of the building.
You turn towards it. 
In a hurry, he sputters, “I’m, uh—I’m not sure about this.”
A beat passes. Your hold on his wrist loosens, not to let go, just to trace wordless reassurance down the back of his hand. Your fingers feel perfect sliding into the spaces between his, like drops of honey in the craters of soufflé pancakes.
“It’s safer than it looks, I promise.”
Jisung heaves a sigh. It seems saying no to you is an impossible task.
You’re right, though. The iron rungs are surprisingly rigid beneath his feet, and the two of you make it to the roof with no trouble. He does stumble when you pull him up onto the gravel, but it’s intentional, a purposeful blunder to have you closer. To snag another glimpse of that blush, another trace of that floral vanilla.
“Sorry,” he whispers almost directly upon your lips. And that earns him all three.
The next hour evades him for the most part, and Jisung is pissed about it. He’s with the woman of his dreams under a sky so clear it’s almost lustrous and he’s too shitfaced to recollect when he gave you his hoodie to wear; what you said that made his lungs capsize with how hard he laughed; how you ended up so close to each other, your legs strewn over his lap, his hands tracing over your thighs.
Thankfully, he remembers a few things. He remembers how frighteningly easy you are to talk to; he remembers your habit of smacking his stomach when you get flustered; he remembers you getting flustered a lot. He remembers the timbres of your different laughs and how your stunning features crinkle with each. He remembers feeling like a pane of glass in front of you, just like he had downstairs, and he remembers liking it, somehow. Liking the way you see through him, the way you allow him to just exist as he is. Liking the way you acknowledge his ghosts with such nonchalance, inviting them over for tea and biscuits.
He wants to remember everything about you.
It’s not often he wants to remember anything.
Eventually, your conversation comes to a natural close. In its absence, Jisung notices that the alcoholic sludge in his brain has largely diffused; with it, the rumbling bass of the party below. The full moon hangs at its highest point, blanketing the two of you with anticipatory silence, nudging you towards the only topic you’ve yet to breach.
He meets your gaze again, from all of two inches away this time, and his insides twist.
“You’re still drunk, aren’t you?”
You blink at him, not following. Then he leans his forehead against yours, lets his eyes flicker to your mouth with such unbridled want that you’re instantly dizzy—and no longer confused.
Regret pools in your eyes moments before they close. “Yes, I think so.”
Your lips are so, so close that he can feel the air shift between you when they move, can feel the soft warmth emanating from them. Jisung pulls away before he does anything stupid.
You do the stupid thing for him.
You push his shoulders to the plaster behind him, push yourself onto his lap with a swing of your body and a slotting of your legs on either side of him. 
The plush of your thighs hugging his hips, the curves of your breasts pressed against his chest, Jisung tries to stare up at you, perplexed, aroused. But you’re so close that he can’t, so he settles with whispering upon the underside of your chin, “what are you—”
“Gimme your lemonade.”
The authoritative words come out in a slurred haze, and he all but hastens to oblige. 
You pluck the plastic bottle from his wavering grasp. His empty hand hovers as if uncertain where to go. But matters as trivial as hand placement drop off his mind’s precipice as he watches you unscrew the cap, the slope of your neck illuminated by spindly moonlight, and without thinking he pushes his hands beneath the hem of your—his—hoodie.
The skin of your waist is warm and smooth where his fingertips are cold and calloused, the juxtaposition unimportant in your reciprocal desires to touch and be touched.
“Open,” you murmur.
His jaw goes slack, firstly from pure disbelief. Then, obedience. The dark locks that obstruct his vision of you fall away as his head meets the brick half-wall behind him, as if the midnight breeze itself mandated their removal.
You pour some of the pink liquid past Jisung’s parted lips. Stray rivulets slip down his cheek and vanish beneath his neckline. You break eye contact to follow their path with dilated pupils and fluttering lashes. With unadulterated desire.
He swallows, gently, and feels the sweet substance surround his tonsils.
He swallows, forcefully, when you wrap your lips around the bottle, the plastic still slathered in his spit.
The swig you take is long, deep. Your throat bobs and your eyes close as if you’re savoring a finely-aged nectar. Then your lips are popping off the opening with a soft thwock, leaving a thick strand of saliva to suspend, suspend, suspend until the very second it’s about to drop, which is when you collect the residue with a deft swipe of your tongue.
“A placeholder,” you breathe, and Jisung’s head careens. A shared bottle. An indirect kiss.
“You’re a monster,” he croaks.
You giggle and lean down, curling a hand around his cheek, pressing a wet kiss to his Adam’s apple.
“Tomorrow, if we’re both sober…”
One, two, three pecks up the length of his jaw.
“...and you still remember my address…”
A suckle to the lobe of his ear.
“...you can kiss me, for real.”
A trembling breath.
“And then some.”
Jisung moans, loudly.
Thankfully, he remembers a few things.
He shows up at your place shortly after sunset the next day. You swing open the door, your face already alight with your world-ending smile.
“Hi.”
“Hey.”
Then he’s kissing you like a man famished.
Jisung learns to love your back, that night. He loves its dips and curves, loves its rise and fall. Loves how it arches into him, how it looks drenched in his cum. It’s the back of his dreams.
The back in his dreams keeps walking.
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Jisung has never liked winter.
He has never liked its winds, whispering woefully as if mourning something unnamed and unseen. He has never liked its palette, whitewashing the world as if refracting a rainbow in reverse.
He has never liked cracking open his eyes and seeing the scenery of his nightmare outside his window. Nor does he like trudging over the sleet as if weighed down by the same ghosts that break him time and time again in his dreamscape. They love winter. 
And this winter, he swears, is the bitterest yet. On the nights when he’s allowed to sleep, the nightmare comes in such sharp relief that he thinks he’d rather anything else, the ghosts meaner, the blood redder, the silhouette slower. It’s an act of mercy when he’s still awake by the time bleached sunlight perforates the curtains, resting upon his salted cheeks and balled fists.
This winter, it is not just dislike that he feels towards the gray winds—it’s hatred. A maelstrom of loathing so large and dark that Jisung no longer knows where it’s headed or what it’s directed to. Or who.
When winter break comes to an end, he’s probably the only person who’s happy about it.
His friends certainly aren’t, looking like a line of angry nutcrackers with their folded arms and thunderous faces standing outside Greem Cafe.
Jisung calls out a greeting as he jogs towards them, and cue the grumbling.
“What is there to smile about? Enlighten us.” That’s Hyunjin. “I have to deal with four finals and three essays in the next five days and this guy is smiling.”
“He’s accepted his fate, I reckon.” That’s Felix. “We should do the same, boys. Let ourselves down easy, y’know?”
“No, no, he’s smiling because he remembered to bring me his chem notes.” That’s Jeongin. “You did, right? Please say you did.”
Jisung is stunned into silence. “Can I not be happy to see my friends?”
“No,” Hyunjin and Felix reply in unison.
“My bad,” he sighs.
“My notes,” Jeongin repeats.
“I have them, dude. Let’s sit down first.”
The younger boy shouts an impassioned “THANK YOU” at the sky like the clouds just saved his GPA. Jisung reaches for the door to the café, then stops at the sound of Felix’s voice.
“We’re waiting on one more person.”
He turns towards the blonde with puzzled eyes. He’d been under the impression the study session would comprise just them four.
“Who?”
Felix’s response falters on his tongue when he catches sight of something in the distance, and his face changes in a way Jisung’s seen before.
“Look behind you.” Felix shuffles past him, raising his voice to shout, “yo!”
Jisung glances away from the newcomer as quickly as he sees her. It’s not until his eyes pivot to the fire hydrant across the street that he processes her identity.
In one second flat, his mind clutters full. He thinks back to that party, when all it took was the sight of your smile for him to theorize you were the most exquisite thing ever made. He thinks back to the next evening, when he kissed you and verified his hypothesis. He thinks back to what followed and would continue to follow in the few days that remained before break: entwined tongues and emblazoned hickeys, whitened knuckles and whiny praise, snapping hips and shaking bedframes.
This winter, Jisung swears, is the bitterest yet.
But seeing you, the scarf wound multiple times around your neck doing nothing to hide your gorgeous smile, feels like catching a fragment of summer in his frozen hands.
“Thank god,” Felix groans before embracing you. Collapsing on you, more like. “I’m saved.”
You reach around to pat the boy on the back, your eyes brimming with laughter. “Lower your expectations, please. I did well on one exam.”
“You aced the midterm. That automatically makes you a rocket scientist,” Felix corrects, his voice muffled into the shoulder of your coat. A few beats of silence pass. Then, “this is comfy.”
“Okay, okay, let’s go get some caffeine in you,” you giggle. “We have a lot of ground to cover today.”
Felix straightens up sleepily. And sadly. “Superb.”
Jisung hangs back as you introduce yourself to Hyunjin and Jeongin. He doesn’t even notice his growing smile until you’re standing directly in front of him and for the first time in three weeks there’s the smell of cherry blossoms in the air and a rainbow shining on his face again.
“Hi,” he offers.
“Hey,” you reply.
Hyunjin is the one to shatter the prolonged silence that follows. “Are you guys betrothed?”
Felix and Jeongin stalk into the café snickering. You and Jisung trail behind with flaming cheeks.
It takes Jisung two and a half hours to talk to you again. At that point in the afternoon, Felix is napping on the second practice test you’ve given him; Hyunjin has downed three shots of pure espresso and is currently viewing his screen with concerning intensity; Jeongin is at another table on a quiet Zoom call with his chemistry T.A., Jisung’s notes clutched to his chest like a life vest. And you’re leaning back against your seat opposite to him, scrolling through your phone in what he presumes to be a well-deserved study break. As good a time as any.
He opens up his texts with you. His fingers fly across the keyboard.
Jisung: do you have plans after this?
Your eyes stutter to the top of your screen, linger there for a moment, and lock onto Jisung’s from across the table.
He presses his lips into a thin line to suppress his smile. You let yours spill over in full form, and with it comes a soft giggle that would be worth getting his number fucking blocked just to hear one more time.
Three gray dots appear before elongating into a prompt response.
Y/N: I was gonna ask you the same thing…
He’s the one who laughs this time. Fuck, you’re cute. You’re so cute.
Jisung: can i take you to dinner? Y/N: Yes, I’d love that :) Y/N: When should we leave? Jisung: 9? Y/N: Sounds good~ Jisung: cool Jisung: it’s a date Y/N: It’s a date! Y/N: Excited 💛
With that, you put your phone face down and return to work, though your lips remain privately upturned. Jisung wants to kiss them again.
He also wants to turn you into a mess on his cock again.
Or both.
He doesn’t get much studying done after that thought surfaces.
Jisung: me too <3
When nine o’clock rolls around, you and Jisung begin cleaning up your work stations in near-perfect simultaneity. There’s confusion written all over Hyunjin’s and Jeongin’s faces as they watch you swing your backpacks over your shoulders—but Felix’s expression is a blank slate as he sips from his macchiato. Your ingenuity isn’t the only reason he invited you today.
As you make your way out of the café, your shoulders brush once, twice, and then Jisung drops his hand into the space between the two of you without uttering a word. You scoop it up in your own without missing a beat.
He steps into the freezing night feeling warm all over.
“You know what I realized?” You say as you walk towards his SUV.
“What did you realize?”
“We’ve never had a sober conversation before. Can we change that tonight?”
Jisung has broken hearts before.
There’s no euphemistic way to describe his tendency to abuse the sensitive organs, to wring them out and throw them away like irrelevant trash. To juggle and drop them with a sheepish laugh like they’re nothing more than props in a circus act.
He doesn’t do it to save himself or his partners from getting hurt or any self-ingratiating bullshit like that. It’s for himself, all for himself. All to unload his balls and his mind for fifteen blissful seconds. 
There’s blood on his hands. He never cared to wash it off.
Except you are the one asking for his heart this time around, a dash of hope in your smile as you do so, and he thinks it would be his life’s greatest honor to be discarded by you.
“Sure,” he answers.
He doesn’t even last until he’s inside the car.
Your back meets the door to the passenger’s seat, guided there by his hands on your hips. From millimeters away he watches your surprise morph into understanding, then darken into lust.
“I like when we don’t talk, though.”
It’s the most annoying thing in the world to remove so many layers in such a cramped space.
Combined, your clothing forms a tower high enough to block out the driver’s window completely. An unnecessary blockade.
The glass fogs up anyways.
“Fuck, Ji, yes, right there, oh my god.”
You have your legs spread open and the back of your neck digging into the cupholder on the door. It’s not comfortable. You’re too busy getting fucked open to care.
Jisung detaches his lips from your neck to ask, “here, baby?”
The head of his cock hits that gummy spot again, harder, sweeter. You convulse, your hand scrambling for purchase in his raven locks.
“Yes, yes, yes, don’t stop, please.”
Please. The word plays over in his fuzzy mind.
It seems saying no to you is an impossible task.
His cock slips out of you and you lament the loss of contact with a high wail.
“W-why’d—where’d you go?”
He can’t help but chuckle at how incoherent you’ve become. He cradles the back of your head with a tender hand and lowers your upper body onto the leather seat, adjusting himself to your new elevation.
“Right here, beautiful. Didn’t go anywhere—promise—” 
He expels the final word through gritted teeth as he slams into you again, and the new angle is glorious. Your bodies keen in flawless harmony. Profanities tumble from his lips in a steady stream before they turn back into syllables.
“Would never go anywhere. Would never leave without making this pretty pussy cream like it deserves—holy fucking shit, baby.”
You clench around him at his words and then he’s setting a new, relentless rhythm, rocking the whole vehicle with every hearty smack of his hips against yours, your wet walls squeezing him so dreamily he thinks he sees nirvana with every thrust.
You’re enjoying it just as much, if the bubbles of spit in the corner of your mouth are any indication, and Jisung is viciously proud to be the cause. Unbelievably lucky to feel your breasts jiggling under his chest and your nails digging into the back of his neck.
“Good?” He whispers, and you nod blissfully.
“So—good, Ji, so fucking good. Your cock is perfect, fuck, I can’t even—can’t even think.”
“You’re the perfect one. Can’t believe how well your cunt takes me, shit. It’s like it was fucking made for this.”
“It was,” you breathe, and he nearly shoots his load into you at this alone. “It was, it was—oh, god, I think—think I’m gonna come—”
“Do it,” he rasps. “Come for me. Come on this cock and it’s yours.”
“R-really?”
“Really.”
“Then, I will. I’ll come on your cock—make it mine. Need it so fucking bad, I’m so fucking close, oh—please—”
He anchors himself in place with a hand against the windowsill and the other travels down your body to rub fast, tight circles into your clit. You let out a wanton, prolonged moan, tilt your head back to expose him to your fluttering throat. And then you’re pulling his lips onto yours again, and the following kiss is sloppy beyond belief, the kind that can only antedate the happiest of endings.
“My cock,” you sigh into his mouth. “Mine.”
“Forever,” is the breathy response he doesn’t know if he means, the response he gives you anyways.
And then you curl your fingers in his hair. Clamp your teeth around his lower lip. Clench your thighs around his waist. There’s liquid everywhere. Tearwater spilling down the sides of your face. Release gushing all over his dick and pelvis and backseat.
He catches up the moment he realizes what’s just happened. Pulls out of you. Presses his head against the roof of his car. Spits on his hand. Pumps his pulsating cock. Sends himself over the edge you’ve just finished tripping over.
Eventually, he regains feeling in his limbs.
He opens his eyes, surveys the damage, and grins.
Your stomach is covered in ropes of white, your expression hidden behind your hands. You start shaking your head in profuse embarrassment the moment you feel his eyes on you.
“You squirted,” he says.
“I know,” you almost yell, and his grin erupts into a laugh.
He lowers himself back over you, takes your wrists, and removes them from your blushing face. He doesn’t think he’s seen you so flustered before and it has him palpitating in ways he never thought feasible.
Maybe he did mean the damn thing after all.
He pushes off the strands of hair clinging to your damp forehead and replaces them with a gentle kiss. “It was sexy as fuck and you’re everything.” 
There’s a certain softness in your eyes when he pulls away. He hopes, for your sake, it’s all in his head.
His car is in need of aftercare most of all. You shrug on your clothes with considerable effort and get to work, all while sharing comfortable chatter and easy laughter.
Those things persist during your dinner date at a nearby Chinese restaurant and the drive back to your place, which Jisung knows well enough to no longer need his GPS. Those things persist until he kisses you goodbye on your doorstep, because he would have to be fucking crazy not to after you gave him the best night he’s had in so long.
After you reminded him that he’s still capable of comfort and ease, in spite of it all.
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Snow comes a few weeks into the new year. 
This winter, it falls late, and it falls hard, like a gust of breath expelled from drawn lungs at the very last minute. Held there as if lying in wait for something unnamed and unseen. 
The gust of breath is too quiet to be heard over the one Jisung lets out against the shell of your ear. “Wait here.”
He goes to roll off you. You don’t let him just yet, darting your hand around his wrist and bringing his face back within centimeters of yours.
Han Jisung is beautiful. You knew it for the first time at that houseparty and you’ve known it every hour of every day since. But it’s always clearest to you in the afterglow, when his bare skin is golden and sticky and his delicate lips bitten to bright fuchsia. 
When his irises have gone black and you see stars, flaring in the absence of light.
You close the distance that remains between you. Your lips part with a content sigh. Your hands drift over the slant of his neck; his find home in the dips above your waist.
He breaks away once you’re both out of breath, and the pad of his thumb wipes lightly at your lower lip.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes,” you reply shyly. “I couldn’t help myself.”
The smile this brings to his face reminds you of a candle’s flame. Soft on the eyes and scalding to the touch when he presses it back against your lips. Once, twice.
“Can you wipe your cum off me now?” You whisper, and he laughs straight into your mouth.
The mattress lifts. His footsteps grow quieter. You shiver in his absence.
Only then do you notice the blizzard.
You stumble off the bed to throw your curtains aside. Snow descends from the sky like spools of unraveling yarn. The streetlights have been reduced to foggy specks, the parked cars to blurry heaps. Every sidewalk and rooftop in sight has already been slathered in ivory.
Jisung announces his return with a disbelieving whistle.
“Am I dreaming?” You murmur.
“When did that happen?”
“I have no idea.”
You don’t even notice the wild smile on your face until you turn to him and catch his reaction to it. He looks like he’s asking himself the same question.
“C’mere,” he hums, and you oblige.
He laves the warm towel over your breasts and stomach, as well as the places his release has trickled since you flung yourself to your feet. All while supporting the small of your back with a touch fatally careful, an expression wholly adoring. All evidence of just how blurry the line between sexual escapade and lover has become in two short months.
Your ribcage fucking throbs.
“You don’t seem excited,” you say.
He finishes cleaning you off. You give him a distracted thank you, noticing the sudden shadow draped over his face like a netted veil.
“I’m not,” he answers, not unkindly.
“You don’t like snow?”
“Not really.”
“Why?”
He circles around the bed to get dressed. You bend to pick up the clothes tossed aside earlier and drop them into your hamper, then slip into a clean pair of underwear and sweatpants.
“It’s a long story.”
Just as you reach for a top, a bundle of cloth travels in an arc across your bedroom and hooks itself around the crook of your arm. His T-shirt. 
You glance at Jisung. He’s already looking elsewhere, but his private smile makes its way onto your face as you slip it on.
“Well, I have time.” You sink into your mattress, now surrounded by his muted musk, his papyrus and petrichor. “We’ll be stuck here a while, after all.”
“Stuck?” Jisung repeats, the lanyard of his car keys dangling from the pocket of his hoodie, his feet turned towards the door.
A pregnant pause commences. His intentions dawn, and you gape.
“You’re not driving right now.”
He breaks eye contact.
“Right?”
That was the plan, you read in his expression.
You know better than trying to reverse a river’s current by kicking up rocks. You know better than trying to curtail the flight of an albatross by clipping its wings.
You know better than asking someone who thinks he was made to leave to stay.
And you won’t.
“I have somewhere to be early tomorrow morning,” he stammers, the lines terribly rehearsed. “The snow’s not heavy, I’ll be—”
“Stay.”
You’re not asking.
Jisung looks at you, startled, as you glide across the bed. You place your feet on the hardwood and circle your arms around his waist. Lace your fingers upon the hollow of his back. His pulse goes uneven at your abrupt proximity.
Akin to the drag of a feather, you mouth at his cheek, then the side of his neck.
“You can stay, Jisung.”
He shudders at your words, and you’ve got him.
It’s oddly normal, the sight of him clambering into your bed in your clothing—a pair of old sweatpants and your favorite crewneck—like this isn’t the first time you’re sleeping together in your two months of sleeping together.
In fact, the only indication of anything unordinary is the floaty feeling in your stomach when your head hits the pillow and discover Jisung’s face only inches away. He drapes an arm over your waist, gathering you close. You nuzzle into the crook of his neck.
The inevitable question follows.
“Can I save the story for another time?”
“Sure,” you return, keeping your voice small. He doesn’t hear your disappointment this way. “Should we go to sleep, then?”
“We should.”
Your foreheads touch. Your noses bump together. Your eyes cross, watching the adoration pull at his. You dimly register your hand threading in his fluffy locks, his thumb running over your cheekbone. Your lashes narrowly miss the surface of his eyes, and then he tips your face up by millimeters.
You don’t remember when you fall asleep. You only recall the hour beforehand that you spend with Jisung’s lips traversing yours, like you are the ocean and he’s uncovering new waters with every bruise he prints against your throat, every suckle he leaves around your tongue.
In your dream, the roles reverse and you are the one exploring him, mapping out his constellations with wide-eyed wonder.
You wake to a black hole.
For the first five seconds, you see nothing. You hear nothing. You feel nothing. You only blink in the darkness, your mind kicking into groggy gear to ask the very good question of why you’re conscious again.
Instinct moves your hand across the mattress. Empty space greets you where Jisung should be. Unfounded dread shoves your back off the bed. You gasp, the sound seeming to echo in the cavernous silence.
Your eyes adjust enough to discern light in the crack beneath your door, and you’re wide awake.
The following events go by in a blur. You stumble out of bed and into your closet, fastening your fingers around the thickest piece of fabric you find. You fly into the living room, where the lamp by the couch is left on and the pair of worn black Converse on your doormat have gone missing.
The front door is cracked open, and through the narrow inches you spot someone hunched on the stairs outside, his dark hair dyed platinum by the awning light’s fluorescence.
Your heart stills in relief, then quickens with anxiety.
You’ve tried wearing this crewneck in January enough times to know you can’t. In fact, you suspect that it somehow soaks up the temperature, lets it seep in between its every seam until it becomes one with the bitter winds. 
But he isn’t shivering, you notice as you take a seat next to him, draping the puffer over both of your shoulders on your way down. He’s simply staring off into the bleak storm, snowflakes sitting atop his head like a coating of ash, their color matching that of his frozen skin. He’s becoming one with the bitter winds. 
At first, you don’t recognize the man in front of you.
You’re well familiar with those ring-laden hands and the whetted jawline thrown into shadow, those remnants of cologne clinging to his frame. But you have never seen that gaze before, bloodshot and bleak and belonging to somebody new. Somebody who isn’t completely here, straddling the partition between the realms of people and phantoms.
Then he lifts his eyes and you see stars, flaring in the absence of light. Your stars.
And you recognize him for the first time ever.
You drop your hand to your hip, and his fingers feel stiff and cold and perfect, sliding into the spaces between yours.
“Why don’t you like snow?” You ask.
Jisung’s eyes return to the swirling sleet, but he moves your interlocked hands to rest on his thigh, and you know that he’s with you.
He’s been having this nightmare.
It takes place in a small clearing. It’s winter, and everything is covered in snow. Not the gentle kind that you can catch on your tongue, but the unyielding kind that’s hard and dense and covered in cracks, like a lake newly frozen over.
Somebody is in front of him, walking away. He can only see their back. He wants to chase after them. He doesn’t want to be left behind. But there are ghosts nearby, and they’ll split his skull open on the permafrost and tie his windpipe into a pretty bow if he so much as dreams of pursuit. He always does. He doesn’t know how not to.
Normally, the back leaves, and he can do nothing but remain. He can direct his loathing only to the snow into which he bleeds. 
Normally, he waits for the dream to end with something bordering on boredom. He’s seen this movie too many times. He fucking hates how it ends.
This time, though, the snow tastes like something.
After the flavors deliquesce upon his tongue, his head shoots up, his eyes blowing wide as they latch onto the retreating figure. He knows who it is.
His feet scrabbles against the ice with his attempts to rise to them. He lunges forward with frenzied resolve, and that is when the ghosts snap his neck.
He wakes up.
“Cherry blossoms and vanilla.”
You blink, tearwater streaking from your eyes in silent, steaming trails.
“That’s—”
My shampoo.
A broken sob escapes you in lieu of the rest of your sentence, and Jisung laughs, a flimsy facade that crumbles when he lifts his hand to dab at your moistened cheeks and it’s trembling.
“Silly,” he murmurs. “I’m used to it now.”
“I don’t want you to be.”
“I don’t want you to cry for me.”
“You died.”
“And I would do it again.”
This response comes without an shred of hesitation.
You first realized you had something to confess, that night in the the back of Jisung’s SUV. You’ve kept it locked away for your sake and his, even moreso. You see how fear clings to him like an unshakeable wraith, and you refuse to feed the parasite.
Now, your confession explodes from its fortress in the center of your soul and rises up your larynx. You panic like an inept security guard letting their only prisoner bolt free. Is it really the right time? Do you know what to say? Have you really thought this through? 
Too late. It’s rushing to the point of your tongue already. You suppose you’ll find out.
He saves you the trouble.
“Honestly?”
Your confession stills. 
“I don’t know if I’m okay, and I won’t try to convince you otherwise. You’d call my bluff. You’re good at that.
“But everything feels okay when I’m with you. You see me. You allow me just to exist as I am. You make me feel human again—you make me want to feel human again. You empty my mind.”
You feel as if you’ve been ejected into space naked, griping for air where there is none.
“I never believed in having somebody to lose,” he utters, gently leaning his forehead against yours. “But I would rather disappear than watch you go.”
You cradle his jaw with shaking fingers, trying and failing to quell the violence of your emotion.
“Don’t go,” he exhales.
You kiss him.
It should feel the same as before. You reach for the slant of his neck, him the dips above your waist. You sigh into him, parting your lips, and he moves into you deeper, harder, dipping into your mouth with his tongue’s pliant swipe. But there’s something new in the way you hold each other, in the seal of your mouth against his.
The line between sexual escapade and lover vanishes as if swept off the sand and into the sea. His stars come out of hiding at last and they bathe you in their residue, light your heart aglow.
Your confession resurfaces. It wants to stargaze also.
“I love you too,” you breathe.
The night comes and goes.
The two of you spend it entangling, sweating, your lips glued the expanse of his neck and the arcs of his shoulders, writing over the ghosts’ injuries with bruises of your making.
Only when the winds have faltered outside do you attempt to rest again. You are curled up in balmy bliss, utterly depleted. Jisung’s arms around your middle and legs threaded among yours bring you that much closer to slumber’s cusp.
You attribute it to your exhaustion when he mumbles something against you, and you have no idea what it means: “Thank you for refracting me.” 
Your confusion is palpable in your silence. His laugh hits the nape of your neck with a gentle puff, and he kisses the spot just beneath your ear. “Never mind.”
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© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support!
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ddejavvu · 8 months
Note
hi! I have a request for Criminal Minds…
It’s Dom!Spencer x fem or afab reader where they’re fucking and reader is sooooo gone that she’s not even catching Spencer’s degradations and praises anymore and just says stuff like ,,you’re so pretty,, or sucks his fingers without a single CARE in the world.
IM GOING TO HELL IM SORRY 😭 also, if you happen to do this, can I be “🏹” anon? apologies if you don’t do emoji anons, ignore this if you don’t. Thanks anyway! Love your writing I’m your biggest fan <3
this post is 18+, minors dni.
warning for ooc spence: i get you dom!spencer fans and this one's for you <3 but the man had to ashamedly whisper the word 'bitch' while reading it off of evidence from a crime scene so i don't think this one is really in character 💔💔💔 hopefully it's good though <3
Everything about Spencer is divine. The hair that hands in caramel-colored waves around your face, tips tickling your skin and only offering more stimulation to an already overwhelming experience. His lips, pink and plump that suckle ravenously at your neck, leaving stinging patches in their wake that won't heal for days. His cock, impressively thick and moderately long, stretching your drooling cunt and bumping rapidly against a spot so deep inside of you you're not sure you knew it existed. His fingers, long, slender, and veined, laying heavy on your tongue and putting pressure on its base so that you gag. Drool spills out around his digits as your body shakes from the force of his thrusts, and the gentle, soothing hum of his voice is with you only in sound, not in meaning.
You're too far gone to recognize the words spilling from his lips as he fucks you, terms like 'slut', 'dirty', 'filthy', and 'dumb' that, on a normal day, would send you into a stammering, blushing mess of denial and excuses. But now you're basking in his saccharine tone, letting his words wash over you and evaporate before your fucked-out brain has time to process them.
"Everyone thinks you're a genius," Spencer croons, sucking hard at a spot against your throat as he jams his fingers onto your tongue, "They say I'm lucky to have found you, 'cause you can keep up with me. But I know the truth, angel." He holds your hip in place with a single calloused hand, "You go dumb on my cock. That's all it takes, isn't it? Just a few. short. minutes." He punctuates his accusations with particularly rough thrusts, "And I've got you braindead on my dick."
"Is that true, baby?" He asks, kissing his way up your jaw and tracing the curve with the stiff tip of his tongue. You're whimpering around the three fingers he's stuffed in your mouth, lips desperately milking them like you would his cock. He curls them on your tongue, pressing down so your speech is garbled, "Answer me, honey. You go stupid for me, don't you?"
"Love you," You manage to blabber, drool spilling from your lips as you speak around his fingers. You're a spluttering mess, spit pooled in your mouth that coats Spencer's digits and seeps down your chin. You suckle at him like a man starved, and the pressure actually starts to hurt between the wayward lapping of your tongue at the pads of his fingers, "Love you- Spence, love you."
He feels your cunt clench around his dick, your body seemingly in tune with the single goal of sucking him dry. He muffles a groan into the crook of your neck, wondering if you'll ever remember the filthy way he's speaking to you now.
The words are harsh, but they're used endearingly, and he hums them into your neck with a kiss, like it's a compliment, "Dumb slut."
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angelltheninth · 11 months
Note
"I almost lost you." with Mikey, Draken and Taka?
Man the angst is heavy today isn't it?
Pairing: Mikey, Draken, Mistuya x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, nightmares, injuries, passionate kisses, desperate kisses, cuddles, protectiveness
A/N: First post with multiple Tokyo Rev characters ands angst packed lol.
2. "I almost lost you."
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Feels like its his fault that you even got involved. He doesn't want any other member to carry you, you're his girl to protect, at least you were supposed to be. While waiting at the hospital you can hear Mikey making a fuss outside yelling about the doctors needing doctors if you're not okay. He can barely look at you when he enters the room, his eyes tinted red from crying and voice rough from yelling earlier. Can't stop himself from silently walking over to your bed and wrapping his arms around you, quiet for the longest time, making sure you're okay, hands gently roaming around your sore body.
"What were you thinking getting in the middle of that? Have any clue how big that fight was for us?! No look, ah, I'm mad cause when you showed up I was focused on you, not the fight... if I hadn't been distracted I would have seen the guy on the motorcycle on time. I... saw you take the hit and... fuck I almost lost you. How would I live with myself if I let the best thing that's happened to me slip through my fingers? I know I'm not the best guy but you say something in me worth while, so please, stay with me."
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Has frequent nightmares about you leaving him or getting hurt on his behalf ever since you got taken by a rival gang that one time. You got roughed up pretty bad but thankfully got out okay, which is more then Draken can say for the guys that took you. Ever since then he's had bad dreams about it, what if they hurt you really bad, killed you, if he lost you for good? Every time he has one of his nightmares he runs to your house and wakes you up, arms wrapping around you and pulling you into a desperate kiss, his heart slowing down when you relax into him and guide him into your bed.
"I keep seeing that day, being too late to save you, seeing you in my arms, helpless to do anything for you. Almost makes me want to go back there and kill them for real, but I know that's not what you want for me. You want a future with me and I can't give you that if I'm behind bars now can I? Am I... annoying you by waking you up? I could call instead. You like me sneaking in? Ha, how rebellious of you."
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If Mitsuya even thinks someone might hurt you he'll go up to them and get in their face about it. Screw being polite when you're in danger of any kind. Little does he know he gave his weakness away like that and made you a target. Learned that when you were taken hostage in a fight. Shit. He was trying to keep yoh safe, not endanger you. Luckily you got away with minor cuts but... seeing a knife against your throat made him lose his cool, made him realize that he should protect you even more, but maybe he doesn't have to do it alone.
"I should have backed off you a bit. When I was constantly around you it made them realize how much you matter to me. I got cocky and it almost made me lose you. I should have asked for back up! Fuck! Maybe I should stay away from you for good. For your sake. Hey! No don't cry! What did I- Ow! Did you just flick my forehead? Oh really, I'm being stupid? I just don't want to live in a world without you. I... I could... I love you too. I'm sorry, must have upset you just now. I'll tell the guys to keep an eye out okay?"
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enbesbians · 5 months
Text
'TOUCH ME'
bottom ellie x top!reader
cw: oral (e! receiving), spit play if you squint, fingering (e! receiving), hickies, nipple play, clit rubbing, oral, no use of y/n, reader struggles with self identity
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MINORS DNI
if you enjoyed this, read part two and part three.
summary: ellie and you were childhood neighbors, with you battling your sexuality and ellie's being a mystery (she's a lesbian but never told you you've always questioned if your attraction was mutual but there's an undeniable lust between you two that you both choose to act out on. with her being a virgin and you wanting to touch her and make her feel what she's always deserved to feel.
a/n: this is my very first tlou fic... please be kind and if there's any mistakes i truly apologize.
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the rain poured heavily, with the strong smell of cement filtering the air— the shiny green leaves fluttering from each droplet while the trees sway at the surprisingly calm wind. there you both sat, underneath the bus stop arch, your mitten covered hands clasping tightly on the plastic handle of your umbrella and ellie's eyes latching on the puddle that rippled a few itches away from her feet.
despite its gloom, it was a weather that you both loved— the grey skies and lack of sun, the rain gave you comfort.
you grew up near one another, meeting for the first time when ellie's family introduced to your family as the new neighbors. she wore some faded band tee shirt and dirtied dark blue ieans with red converse that looked like she had them in her possession for a decade. at first, with your shy personalities, it was a bit hard to bond with one another. the consistent neighbor dinners and (by default) going to the same schools, it was almost like you had to see each other by force. yet, one rainy day during the year you both turned 16, ellie's family was over, with them to be found in your bedroom, briefly talking about the weather.
"the sky looks so sad..." you sulked, your attention fixated on the raindrop covered window.
"it's just the earth leveling itself up. think of it as it's rebirth, the greens will grow... the sun will shine again... you know?" ellie replied, her response sounding very nonchalant, silly even but flowed sweetly, her attention only on her sketch pad where she drew different characters she'd usually draw randomly. she didn't notice what she had said, if it was in any way serious or logical but you took to heart, your bored eyes widening like you had been introduced to a new way of thinking.
"yeah.." you replied.
it was simple interaction. awkward even, but that's how your relationship was. from age twelve to now, both twenty one. there was an evident space between the bench you both sat on, the metal seat feeling like it was freezing through the thick jean of your pants. you turned your head, looking at ellie who usually never notices when you would stare—or you think—seeing flashes of her drawing in her sketchbook—the same stare, her auburn hair fluttering against the light scatter of her freckles that painted her skin. you didn't know why, but you wanted to smile. something about how ellie always seemed like she was in her own world, not paying attention to what surrounded her and zoning out, that's what she always did. you felt different from her- your thoughts were always so loud. jumbled, thinking and worrying, it made you sick, but just from the sight of ellie's peace, her patience and her sense for life felt like a bandage on a wound.
"how do you feel finally coming home?" you asked. you had both went to college with you attending different universities. you were accepted into one a few months after her, during your 18th year (of age), and since then, it was rare for you to see each other. yes, there were glances whenever you both came home from break, but since majority of your time was spent apart in your own universities and dorms, it felt like each time you saw each other, it was like you were strangers.
"weird..." she replied, her response having an elongated pause before turning her head to return your stare.
your heart felt as if it dropped. it was an immediate feeling, sighing out a nervous laughter with staggered nodding and your tongue gliding against your dry lips.
"it also... feels weird seeing you as an adult... you know?"
‘why was she so pretty?’ you thought.
•••
"it was loving seeing you girls! we won't bother you anymore!" both your mothers chirped as both her and your parents situate themselves in your family room. the both of you smile, full from the meal your families prepared, walking upstairs to be greeted by your bedroom. memories flooded you both, with a bitterness filling your stomach, remembering all the feelings you had dealt with in here.
"wow." you breathed. the coldness of the air was sharp, stabbing your lungs, hurriedly needing to escape with an exhale full of tension and worry.
this bedroom held a lot of grief. coming to terms with your sexuality, not allowing a single soul to know. the bed all made up in your dark blue comforter, a plush toy in the shape of a dog probably still wet from your tears you mindlessly wiped against its soft surface. those memories fueled you, your eyes wondering like a deer in headlights not knowing how to remain calm or even face ellie. this room was filled with sin. being gay was hard to grasp, being in the closet was even worse and to have a person you'd often day dream about made it all but impossible to relax.
"there's still that burn spot on the floor." ellie pointed out. the dark mark against the light oakwood floorboard due to you both trying to light a defected firework. it was stupid thinking back, but luckily it had a small reaction, with the floor catching fire for a good five seconds before ellie splashed water from a cup that had been resting beside her.
your attention turned to the floor, laughing, allowing this fond memory of your stupidity bring you happiness. her awkward yet hysterical laugh afterwards and the look of embarrassment when your mom scolded you both. "oh yeah. still can't believe... we did that and how it's still on the fucking floor no matter how much we scrubbed it."
"your mom was so mad." ellie laughed. her low voice rumbling within your eardrums. she turned your way, taking off her big raincoat, occupying it against the door hanger. you did the same.
it was safe to say the two grew into women. your bodies more defined and grown, with ellie's arms occupying itself with muscle and your hips dipping in its wonderful curves, it was hard for you both not to stare. for ellie, she was questioning herself when it came to relationships yet she's never been open about her interests or intentions when it came to partners. growing up, she never talked about boys or girls for that matter. dating seemed nonexistent to her while you on the other hand had many boyfriends. all ellie could think of while seeing your body and how your sweater clasped so heavenly against your frame was how lucky any guy would be to have you.
in unison your eyes drifted apart, looking for something else you could bring up and talk about. unfortunately nothing came along. between every conversation came a long pause, the connection of your eyes lingering each time.
"so." ellie sighed, "ya' have a boyfriend?" the question abrupt but she needed to know, for what reason? maybe curiosity or did the question have a purpose? you and her now sitting on your bed, legs crossed with the familiar view of ellie drawing in her sketch pad she'd always do whenever she came over, with you being drawn, by your own request.
"no."
"no?" her head raised, as well as her eyebrows. "don't believe it." a quiet laugh filled the silence of the dead, cold room, allowing the sounds of her pencil on paper and staggered breathing to filter through. your eyes couldn't look at ellie even if she, herself wasn't even looking at you.
it felt like you were forced not to look at her. your eyes watered at how they bounced everywhere around her, chewing at the loose skin on your lips. you had forgotten that ellie wasn't aware of your own discovery, about you being lesbian, as if at some point, even if not brought into conversation that she'd know that you were and that she was the culprit of your dreams.
"what about you? you dating anyone?" you breathed, clearing your throat as your eyes studied the pen being gripped by ellie's delicate fingers. the way the veins poked through at each sway and scratch of the pencil. she shook her head shamelessly. she didn't have any want for a partner, since she was the type of girl to be too 'busy' to mind. everything she did had a purpose and was too time consuming to venture out into romance. "no, haven't really gotten into the dating thing."
" never see you in relationships." and that was true. your eyebrows furrowed realizing that whenever you hung out as kids or have family dinners, 'no' was always her answer when a relationship was asked. at that moment your heart dropped. is it possible that she was gay too? you wanted to question but you didn't know if that was too forward. it shouldn't be, but it was. a soft broken hum left your throat, your own fingers tearing the side of nail out of nervous habit.
"what about.." the question now being out into the air, your eyes now finding the confidence to look at her concentrated face who has yet to look up from her sketch pad. "a….. girlfriend?"
ellie chuckled. she caught onto your nervousness as she simultaneously felt nerves fill her chest. at a tilt, her head rose, and her green eyes looked up at you who sat erect opposed to her slouch. she shook her head no.
ellie was awkward. you and her both. she rarely showed affection or even got close to people within her circle but when she was given affection, it was always so awkward and hard to watch in an endearing kind of way. the only thing you knew was that she loved to draw, she liked comic books, she knew how to play guitar and her favorite foods, her favorite color. you knew the basic stuff. things a 'best friends' should know, you didn't. maybe if you had just asked, ellie would answer like she had just now. a simple answer to a anxiety filled question.
"you?" ellie asked. with that you couldn't sit still, clearing your throat and fixing your posture, rolling your tongue over the exposed skin of your lips from biting them.
"i…..im... uh." there was your chance. the pale sky glowing off of ellie's face, with anticipation written all over it. she looked like an angel. her stare was strong, piercing through your body with a need for an answer that you seemed to struggle to give. this was now the time to tell her, lay it all out after all these years. all the years of hiding from others and yourself, to tell her that you were lesbian.
the air was heavy and the tension grew. if cut with a knife, emotions would spew, drowning you both.
"can i kiss you?" ellie asked, her voice deep and raspy.
a gasp was given in return. nothing had to be answered to ellie's previous question. your actions showed that this was what you wanted. though ellie's oblivion was high, she paid attention to your body language, your words. she felt your stares.
you didn't say a word, only a slow hesitant nod.
she leaned forward, both of your lips parting, with the creek of the bed as she set aside her sketch pad. the palms of your hands held gently over ellie's shoulders, faces inches from one another as her eyes fluttered shut. a soft press of your lips was given. your gut dropping, finally feeling the lips of who you had imagined all this time. they were soft. they were sweet. you both sat there stiff and still, breathing in heavily, holding your breath, pushing your face in to chase her lips as if you wouldn't be able to again.
noses nudged against one another's, with awkward laughs that made you both embarrassed but the lust between you both overlapped that quickly. "was that okay?" you whispered, feeling ellie's hair tickle the side of your face.
"again" she replied.
"okay."
your lips connected. more eager this time, your faces smashing into each other's, with ellie's hands inching to hold your face. she couldn't though, her fingers curling right before she touched you, lowing her hands into her lap as you continued to press your lips on hers. no movement, just a press. like you had never kissed before. you changed that, your lips parted and your tongue grazed the bottom of her lip. she followed. tongues slipping into each other's mouth with sweet gasps being drowned in your mouths.
it started to get hot, ellie's heart beating like it needed to escape her chest. it hurt, but she wanted more. how though? how could she if she had never done this before? if she never had any interest in doing this with anyone other than you right now? she didn't care for romance, porn, anything of the sort. she knew she liked girls but she was too fearful to pursue them. you on the other hand did. you never explored another woman's body but it shouldn't be any different than being with a man, right? but it surely felt different. your body roared in arousal. the simple feeling of her lips made your body tingle like static. you felt heavy, like you couldn't move. your tongues hadn't stopped, and you really didn't know how to use them. it turned sloppy because of it, your chins glistening in spit, all around the upper and lower part of your lips and somehow beneath both of your noses.
she pulled back, wiping her lips with the sleeves of her shirt, swallowing the large lump she had in the center of her throat.
"can i... can i touch you?" you asked, your eyes still looking at ellie's now swollen lips. her chest heaved at how heavy she breathed, trying to catch her breath from holding it as you kissed. she nodded.
your hands occupied itself at her clothed abdomen, running them up and down, feeling the outline of her stomach. ellie leaned back, resting on her hands, allowing you to touch her. your fingers slid underneath the fabric of her shirt, finally feeling the softness of her skin and the patch of her happy trail that stopped at her navel. she gasped, the cold sweatiness of your palms startled her yet excited her. your hands slowly slid up and down just below her breasts. the tips of your fingers felt the warmth of her bra, cupping them and giving gentle squeezes. you could feel your body shudder, you couldn't believe that you were touching her and with her lips parting, a low sigh filled your ears, you felt like you would pass out any second.
she continued to look at you with her pale green eyes, slightly raising her shirt just to see your hands play with her. you pushed them together, seeing them squish against one another, and the grip of your fingers pressing down into her skin. you leaned your face closer, pressing it right at her center, pressing wet peppering kisses at her cleavage.
“fuck…" she sighed. you could feel her heart racing against your lips as they sunk into her warmth. each kiss was filled with intent, love and affection. opening your lips, letting your teeth graze against it, sucking softly at her skin. her face followed you, a strand of her hair falling down the middle of her eyes, blowing at each deep breath she took. you pulled away, biting down at your lips as you see the faint pink marks coat her breasts.
with your eyes looking directly at her face, watching how her lips parted and exuded a shaky sigh, wondering how it felt to be touched by your hand, does she feel good? as stupid as that question may be, you wanted to know so badly. it certainly made you feel good.
"ah? it... feels..." ellie sighed, the pained pleasure feeling foreign but enticing. she jerked at the sharpness of your scratches, the fresh bitten nails was starting to hurt, but it molded itself into pleasure shooting it directly at her now throbbing clit.
"do you want me to stop...?" you asked, your hands halting.
"no... just wait." she grunted, taking her shirt to see the markings that you had painted on her, it was pretty. looking ahead, you could see the pink tint that resided against her cheek. the hunger in her eyes, the need to continue. "keep going..." and that you did. this time holding her waist, pressing your fingers deep into her skin as you pulled her closer. your hand hovered her jeans, cupping it as you press down at an achingly slow pace and that is when you felt the heat she made at your palm.
"oh my god..." you're doing this. you couldn't believe it. this felt entirely different from any other time you had done this. with men you felt unsure, unaroused like you were lying to yourself. you felt so free and alive yet scared and tensed. ellie's mouth ajar, eyebrows knitted inward as she sucked in air, exhaling a moan.
“feels good?”
“feels good…”
ellie hummed, her fists turning yellow from the tightness of her gripping the bed's comforter. her hips bucking upward barely moving yet rotating it in circles. the friction from your hand was sending shocks up her body and you weren't even touching her skin. ellie felt a thrill like no other. you on the other hand, felt like nothing can stop you (despite your parents walking through the unlocked bedroom door). all these years from your closeted fears, are being in play with the both of you. no confessions, just allowing your wants do the talking.
your fingers grasp the button of her jeans, unclasping it and undoing the zipper, her thin boxer briefs being showing through the heavy jean. you pulled them down, her hips following by lifting up for it to puddle down at her ankles. there, more skin. her thighs, so toned and soft.
"fu...ck" you staggered. it was impossible to think a person like ellie existed. how? "what do you want me to do?" you asked wanting her input since no words were really coming from her besides those godly expressions.
"uhm." she had to think. nothing came to mind though. all she wanted was you to just touch her in any way you wanted. it didn't matter, whatever you were doing already was enough for her. being a mindless virgin pissed her off at this very moment, she wished she could be more or do more. maybe this wasn't enough for you? like she was disappointing you? "you can do Whatever you want, it's okay."
you were in awe. it didn't matter that she didn't know what to do. it felt nice, it felt raw. it felt like this was both your firsts. the feeling of exploring ellie's body made happiness overflow within you. she felt like she was going to explode- her exposed abdomen, with marks all over, breathing so deeply and out of sync. now with her bottom half nearly naked. what a masterpiece.
your hands rest at her knees, running up her legs. your soft calloused hands massaging ellie, with her watching your every movement. the dip that resided at the bottom of her stomach took her by surprise, gripping the deep blue blankets underneath you both. everything went so slow, even still you both savored every second.
you bend down, your lips pressing against the elastic of her briefs, kissing alongside it as you breathed in heavily, inhaling her gentle scent. your finger pressed down at her clit, running it down her clothed slit to feel a patch of wetness. she was so wet, it stuck against her pussy and it's slick was thick, coating your fingers.
"that... that feels good." her eyes closed as she leaned her head back, her chest heaving as she let out deep, breathy moans. "oh god that feels so good."
you continued to rub over her underwear, pressing firmly to feel her clit pulse like irregular heartbeats.
"allow yourself to feel good ellie... feel it." you reassured, your voice vibrating against her pubic bone as you continued to kiss her there. the scent of her arousal was a drug. her body exuded such a wonderful scent and the sound her pussy made just from your rolling your fingers over her clit was addictive.
"you're so wet."
she laughed, biting down her bottom lip as she returned her gaze to you, admiring your face and how focused you seemed to be. "because of you."
"can i do more?" you sigh, your eyes looking down to see the small imprint of her clit puffed out against her briefs. she nodded. your fingers curled at the elastic, her hips lifting as you pulled it down to see her swelling clit. what a sight- the connection of her happy trail to the light pubes that spread at her pubic bone. you could see her clit glisten with her own mess, how fleshy it was and how it sat so nicely above her slick folds. "your pussy is so pretty."
it was better than you imagined. all you wanted was to touch it, run your tongues against it, see what she tasted like and the sounds that could from her mouth.
"im gonna touch it." you announced, your hand inching towards it.
"okay." ellie moaned back quietly, her expression full of lust.
you situated yourself, almost laying down with your hands flatly pressing down on her tense thighs. leaning down, you gathered spit, letting it drop down on her clit, watching slide down her folds. your thumb pressed down on it, letting it circle against it just to see the bud of her clit being exposed as her clit hood would move with the way you rubbed. you could hear how wet she was, seeing her slick run from her pussy and down onto the bed. ellie and let out little mewls. her sounds so deep and seductive, rolling out from her throat more often than you thought she would.
ellie clearly embarrassed at the fact that she's making this much noise, her hand covering her mouth as she moaned into her palm. you would've moved it for the sake of hearing her but there were people downstairs and you didn't want them to hear, only you. the muffled sounds still tickled your chest. your heartbeat was quick and erratic. eyes connecting as one.
your finger slid down with your thumb still on her clit, her pussy lips almost hugging your finger, feeling the warmth she had. "you're driving me insane." she announced, her hips rotating and flexing just enough for her faint abs to seep through her stomach.
"so are you. i wanted this so bad ellie. so fucking badly"
°i want it in my mouth' you thought. 'i want to know how she tastes'. it took everything in you to do it. a few extra rubs and you couldn't help yourself, opening your mouth as you lower your head and latched yourself on her clit replacing your thumb. ellie jerked upward, her hand mindlessly holding the back of your head, letting out a gasping moan.
"oh fuck... oh fuck... oh fuck... god." she grunted, trying to be quiet as her eyes squinted shut. rose painted her cheeks as her hand pushed you down further into her pussy, your nose pressing deeply into her pubic bone. she tasted sweet, taking in all the mess she made and continuously inhaling her natural arousal. your cheeks hollowed itself, feeling the flesh of her clit being suck against your tongue- it twitching vigorously and your chin getting wet from her slick.
"don't... don't stop... please. please don't fucking stop. it feels so good. i don't why it feels this fucking good." she rambled, her words coming out like she were drunk.
her hips continued to buck upwards and grind into your face, humping it as she got off to it.
all of this made you both go crazy. your minds flooding away within the pleasure you both shared. with your lips wrapping tightly around her clit, humming, sending sweet vibrations that made ellie feel as if she was going to see stars. your tongue lapped against her lips, running it over her opening. her hips fucked itself upwards, tilting her head to see your mouth pleasure her. the way they expanded, the obnoxious noises it made. you popped yourself off, seeing how wet your spit glistened against her clit, pulling back the skin from her pubic bone just to see her clit dance as it throbbed.
"do you see that? looks like you really like my mouth." you teased, you both laughing as you watched her clot continued to move.
your finger pressed down her hole, looking up at her as she looked at you, her bottom lip being bitten. "is it okay if i finger you?" she nodded.
"tell me if you feel uncomfortable."
"okay." she hummed.
you smiled, not realizing how wet the ring of your mouth looked but none of you seemed to care about that. "wait." you whisper, lifting your body as your face levels itself with hers, your hands clasping her face as her press your lips against hers. this time, the kiss wasn't shy or slow or awkward, it was full of hunger. your tongues plunging in each other's mouths as ellie tasted herself on your tongue. noses nudging and faces tilting, rolling your tongue at her bottom lip as you bit it, pulling it back. ellie moaned pathetically in your mouth, her hips still moving, needy for your touch that had been removed.
removing your lips, your squeeze her cheeks with your hand, her eyes glassy as if she were about to cry. she was so laced with lust that all she was able to see was you. nothing or anyone was able to distract her from this very moment. she only wanted you. she wanted to feel good by you. she wanted to be good for you.
"open your mouth." you whispered, your eyes dancing along her swollen lips, seeing how she obeyed. you gathered spit, allowing it to drop in her mouth with some sliding down her chin. "good girl. taste yourself with my spit.”
she swallowed it, her eyes doe.
you started to kiss her neck, trailing down to her collar bone then the center of her chest against the faint marks you had already created, unclipping her bra and seeing her fully exposed by your hand. she was so beauty. she was so fucking cute. you could see how shy she was just by this alone but she wanted you to see. she wanted you to see her from the inside out. she felt safe with you. clasping on one breast, your mouth did with the other, suckling on her hardened nipple, feeling her skin mold itself by your sucks.
she grunted, looking down at you as you continued to praise her body with your mouth. she felt the sharpness of pleasure electrify her body, through every vein and blood vessel. her sounds ran through you, soaking your panties and probably even through your jeans. before giving the other nipple some attention, you let your hand go to your lips, sitting on it and hover over her pussy, rubbing her clit once more before you slide down to her opening, rolling the pad of your finger as you teased it slightly.
"im gonna put it in okay?"
"okay."
and so you did. your finger slowly slid into her, watching her as her face formed a pleasured yet unsure expression. her pussy was hot and immediately clenched itself around your finger, her walls beating a you pushed little by little before it was all the way inside.
"you okay?"
"im okay" she breathed while you pressed gentle kisses against her breasts. your finger held still, allowing her to get used to its form before you pumped it in and out. each movement could be her as her slick dribbled out as your finger fucked itself out.
ellie never felt this before and it showed. her body reacted without her realizing it did. she made grunts that didn't understand if this felt good or not but her restraint went away each time she pushed her finger in and pleasure deepened. tightening and dreading your hand, it's pace quickened, feeling her walls brush up against your finger. «it's starting to feel good." she admitted, looking down at her own pussy to see your hand thrusting itself as your finger disappears inside of her.
"good. take it."
your face again in front of hers, foreheads pressed against each others, lips ajar, moaning at each other like that was the only language you spoke. she breathed heavily, her hand occupying itself at the back of your neck, gripping tightly so you wouldn't move. her eyes and your eyes studied each other. they made love with one another, seeing her pupils expand and the green of her eyes disappear.
rub your clit for me." you instructed which she did without hesitation. two fingers pressing down, rolling it over her clit mirroring the pace of yours. "im gonna add another." your ring finger slowly pushing itself in her entrance. little by little both your middle and ring was inside of her until it reached your knuckle, curling your fingers.
"holy fuck. fuck... it really feels good."
you kept pumping. her pussy so loud mixing in with your breathy moans. you created music with her pleasure. lips tickling each other as they ghostly press against one another, breathing down into each other's throats. she could feel her get closer by the second, her toes curling and hips lifting like she was chasing her own orgasm.
"i can't- wait... wait... fuck-" she announced, her body jerking forward as she roughly pressed her lips against yours, needing you more than ever, tongues fighting as they went down both your throats. her body twitch, paused then trembled. the feeling shot through every inch of body.
"cum for me ellie." you pleaded in between kisses. your fingers didn't stop it's pace, they couldn't. you fucked her through her high, taking in all of what she was feeling, moaning roughly down her throat, feeling her pussy tighten around your finger as her walls pulsate. her thighs trembled, closing themselves, capturing your arm almost halting your movements but you stopped her by grabbing her knee and pressing it further down the bed. a white ring formed at your knuckles, sliding down the palm of your hand as she continued to cum.
finally, ellie's breathing started to calm itself, her chest heavily heaving as she leaned back onto the mattress. her breast expanded as she lay and her eyes closed while recollecting herself. the sight of her was perfect. she was perfect. the gloomy sky painting it's light against her skin with the reflection of the rain's droplets from the windowpane. you now know what your dreams looked like in reality. ellie felt so warm and soft and her moans were like notes of a song, so deep and beautiful.
"you did so well." you breathed, giving her a few more pumps before you slid them out. you looked at your finger laughing as you lay beside her, "look." hovering you hand covered in ellie's cum in front of her face.
"oh my god.." she laughed, "i did that?" you nodded and a silenced hum ran through, admiring the work she made and you gave her. her slender fingers wrap around your wrist, lifting her head just enough for you to see letting her lips take them both into her mouth. she sucked them so gracefully, her eyes watching you as she bobbed her head slowly, tasting her own cum.
"you're so fucking hot." you told her, hearing the pop of her mouth as she releases your fingers.
"no you.” she admitted, "but what about-"
"GIRLS WE HAVE A GIFT FOR YOU!" ellie's mother yelled from the family room downstairs. you both jumped up, scattering to clean yourselves up and put on your clothes. luckily you and ellie weren't too loud or but you wished there could have been more. you didn't want to stop, you wanted to do this forever. being with her felt like you were reborn. you felt comfortable knowing that you were able to be yourself, be with a woman and the woman being someone you had long desired for.
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horrorhot-line · 3 months
Text
kairos
(n.) the perfect, delicate, crucial moment; the fleeting rightness of time and place that creates the opportune atmosphere for action, words, or movement.
➵ pairing: love and deepspace x reader
➵ word count: 14.2k
➵ genre: fluff, angst (if you squint?)
➵ warnings: spoilers for the game 'love and deepspace' below.
➵ summary: when you thought you didn't belong all your life, you had no idea it wasn't just in your head. now, you're thrown into a world you couldn't possibly have known was real and have to get used to your new enviroment. easier said than done when you keep running into certain men who make it hard to keep your cool.
➵ masterlist  (requests are open)
The following content is protected under copyright laws. do not copy, modify, repost on other sites or claim as your own.
© 2024 horrorhot-line
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notes: to anyone waiting for more saiki k content, i promise it's on the way, there's just a few other things i'm working on so it might take some time, and in the mean time i wanted to practice writing for other characters to sharpen my skills.
to anyone who's new to this blog, hi, i hope you enjoy your stay here, and i hope you like my work, enjoy!
also: thank you to @kagadummis @vanillaschoko9353 @identity-theft-101 for giving me the motivation to write. and a huge thanks to @thecaminator for letting me throw ideas off their head to make sense of what i wanted to do with the series. you were a huge help!
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There was no one moment that you could pinpoint and say was flawed or wrong. When had the world lost its colour? Had you been ignorant all your life and happened to notice one day, and now there was no going back? Did it even matter?
You didn't know when it all started to go wrong, but you were exhausted. The type of tiredness that no amount of sleep could ever cure. Every interaction felt like work. Every moment that you were conscious felt like work. Nothing ever happened, no one ever liked you, and even if something did come to pass- you could never immerse yourself in the feeling completely. 
Chalking it up to, 'Everyone feels this way,' and 'I'm not the only one' only worked for so long. There wasn't really any place you could say you felt you belonged to. You didn't understand how people around you, successful or not, could confidently say, "This is what I was meant for".
Surely, there was more for you out there than working to live, going paycheck to paycheck, always having just enough. Waking up, worrying about trivial things, learning or working, getting stressed at minor inconveniences, eating, sleeping, all on repeat until death finally calls your name one day. 
Wherever you went, you felt like you weren't ever really there. Your only comfort was, no matter how alone you felt, among the 8 billion people in your world, there was someone out there who was going through the exact same thing as you. Someone who knew what it meant to feel like you were in a universe you didn't belong to. 
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The first thing you felt was pain. It was dull at first, stirring you from your slumber and forcing your sluggish brain to wake up and find the problem. You didn't even get to open your eyes before it evolved into burning, searing you from the inside out. Your head throbbed, and your vision swam, your eyes barely registering the room's lights that you were in before you forced your lids shut.
You cried out, curling in on yourself in an attempt to soothe the pain, but to no avail. You tried to breathe through it, and assumed you were making progress when the pain dulled. You should've known that was only the calm before the storm.
Memories, hundreds, then thousands, filled your mind all at once. They started to blend into each other- familiar, yet not and try as you might, you couldn't quite place your finger on any of them. You wailed, clenching your jaw so hard you felt your molars push against your gums. Clutching your head in your hands, tears flowed down your face.
What was this? You had never been in this much pain before. You were dying; that was the only explanation. There was no way you would survive this pain. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This couldn't be it. You had so much left to do, so many loose ends to take care of. You were not about to die alone in your room because of a goliath of a headache.
The memories still trying to burn their way through your consciousness behind your closed lids started to slow down, and you could make more sense of them now. You furrowed your eyebrows at what you saw. An entrance exam? Holograms? Monsters? These weren't your experiences; you had never seen this before in your lif-
Wait. No. There was no way. You knew they looked familiar, but you would never have guessed… Those monsters, you recognised them. You had seen them on your flimsy phone screen while playing a dating sim the night before that had just been released a month ago. Love and Deepspace. A game set years in the distant future about romance and wanderers.
What the fuck? You blinked your tears away, the pain from earlier feeling more like a migraine rather than a death sentence. You ignored the sweat clinging to your skin and moved the hair plastered to your face out of the way. That was when your brain caught up, still taking its time to make logical sense of what had occurred.
You weren't in your room- for one, it was neat and tidy to the point of perfection. There was a hologram projected where your bedframe would have been, and the mattress was the softest thing you had ever sat on in your entire life. Despite waking up in a strange room you had no recollection of getting into, you didn't feel any unease, and that in itself had you worried.
It felt right, the feel of the plush covers against your legs and the aesthetic of the room itself. It felt like you belonged. You took a deep breath. Looking around to see if you could find your phone, you moved off the bed to go wander. When you saw a familiar black screen on the desk on the other side of the room, you rushed to grab it.
Getting a better look at it once it was in your hand, you realised it was a phone, alright, just not yours. You tried your best to ignore the odd feeling that washed over you when your fingers seemingly moved as if it were muscle memory and entered a passcode that opened the phone to reveal a home screen.
The top of the screen had bold numbers stating it was 18:46PM, with a few apps underneath. You tried to make sense of what apps were what when your eyes landed on the date in small text under the time. January 17th 2048. You froze, feeling like you had been doused with cold water. No, that couldn't be right. You tried flicking through the apps to see if you could figure out what in the fuck was going on.
You shoved down any thoughts of the isekai love novels you had read in the past because surely- surely, you couldn't have something as cliche as this happen to you. Your expression relaxed slightly, your eyebrows unfurrowing as you found what you thought to be a messaging app. Your eyes scanned the contacts briefly. The first was a message from… Caleb?
Who the fu- Oh. Oh, no. You really didn't want to admit it. You refused. You had not transmigrated. That wasn't possible. You tried to soothe your mind by telling yourself this was all a dream, but the dull headache you still had and the pain that came before it convinced you that you were very much awake. You ignored his message, choosing not to open it and reply.
You had to understand the kind of situation you were in first. The text underneath his was an unsaved number. You opted to open the chat, checking the unread message.
'Congratulations on passing the Annual Hunter's Exam! Please head to the New Recruits Registration Centre on January 18th 2048. Your appointment is set at 8:00 A.M., but we advise you arrive 15 minutes early to sign in. We hope to see you there! Our warmest regards to the new Hunters of today.'
You threw the phone on your bed, frustrated and confused, causing you to be reckless. This made no sense. How could this have happened? You couldn't rationalise any of it. You refused to believe you were in Love and Deepspace. For one, it was too good to be true.
You paced the unfamiliar bedroom, trying to figure out your next move. A mirror. You needed a mirror; it should have been the first thing you went looking for. Your legs carried you as if they already knew where you needed to go. Leaving the room, you turned right and opened the door to reveal a pristine white bathroom. You stopped yourself from gawking at how clean it looked (you swore you saw a bidet and an option to warm up the toilet seat) and headed to the cabinet with a mirror.
You blinked once, then twice, giving yourself a once over again. It looked like you- but didn't at the same time. It was… exactly like what you had chosen the main character of the game to look when you played. You looked otherwordly. Clear skin, smooth without a single bump or pore in sight. Naturally pink lips, long lashes and captivating eyes. The face of a model… of a main character.
You wouldn't have been able to explain the existential crisis you went through even if you wanted to, as you brought your hand up and touched your face. The reflection that greeted you was a stranger, but they felt so familiar. Was this really you? Was this your appearance now? Your life? What were you supposed to do? How could you possibly go back to your world? Did you even want to?
You shook your head. This was all too much. You let your feet guide you back to the bedroom, lost in your thoughts, trying your best to think coherently.
That's when you saw it. A small hologram, a pop-up screen, on the bedroom window that took up a whole wall. You paid no mind to the incredible view outside, too perplexed by the screen. You walked closer to it, realising there was writing. Had it appeared when you left the room, or had it been there from the beginning, and you had been too disoriented to notice?
Your eyes traced the words carefully, trying to understand what they meant. You reread it, furrowing your eyebrows. In bold and all caps, on a white background and written in serif print, was the paragraph,
"N/A Y/N L/N - TIME OF DEATH: [REDACTED], 18:39:03:153425
LINKON CITY [REDACTED] - TIME OF DEATH: DIED JANUARY 17TH 2048, 18:39:03:153425
CONDITIONS FOR SOUL SWAP HAVE BEEN MET. WELCOME TO YOUR ORIGINAL UNIVERSE. WE APOLOGISE FOR THE MISTAKE WE MADE AND THE INCONVENIENCE IT MAY HAVE CAUSED FOR THE TIME IT TOOK TO FIX. THIS IS YOUR ORIGINAL UNIVERSE AND WHERE YOU WILL CARRY OUT THE REMAINDER OF YOUR DAYS. ENJOY YOUR STAY."
Underneath the text was only one option. "ACCEPT"- no way of declining. Huh. Enjoy your stay? Apologise for the inconvenience? Delay it took to fix? Were they taking the piss? Pulling your leg? Dickheads. This was a joke. It had to be. Someone was kidding you, pulling some elaborate prank, and all you had to do was say, 'You got me!' and it would all be over… If only.
You weren't sure how long you stood there staring at the display, trying to make sense of it all. You were in a game. A game you had yet to finish because you had to wait to level up every day. A game where you found yourself fangirling over boys on your screen. And who could blame you? The three male leads were captivating. Beautifully drawn and animated.
Your eyes focused on the view behind the small screen of text, past the bedroom's window; the buildings were obscured due to condensation, most likely caused by the rain still falling across the city. You took a deep breath, closed your eyes, exhaled and promptly reached out to the accept button and clicked it.
It disappeared, and you were left alone with just your thoughts. You know what? No, you were not doing this today. You were going straight to bed; you didn't have the energy to deal with this. This was a problem for future you.
With that, you slipped into the familiar yet unfamiliar bed and closed your eyes, letting exhaustion and slumber take hold of you.
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From what you could gather from your baffling situation and the cryptic message you saw yesterday, you were in the universe you belonged to. But how did that make any sense? The universe, or whoever was in charge, god, a system? They had made a mistake; you had lived your prime years in a world you were never supposed to exist in, and now you were back where you belonged?
Bullshit- You called bullshit. This was all too much. And if you were here, where was the woman who had been in this body before both souls were swapped? Was she in your uni- her original universe? …Good luck to her then- you hoped she managed to make sense of the shit show that had been your life the day before.
What you still couldn't understand was, how did the soul swap happen? What conditions could have been met to swa- was it the time both of you died? Fuck, this was giving you a headache. You had to blend in and not raise any suspicions for now. What else could you do?
You were sure the events that occurred to lead you to this world were irreversible, and you had no desire to take on some cosmic power that was, in essence, playing with your life. You would make a move once you knew more. Maybe.
You bit the inside of your cheek, miffed but feeling mostly defeated that your life had genuinely been turned upside down, inside out and then fucked sideways.
The walk to the New Recruits Registration Office had been uneventful. Something you were grateful for as it gave you time to take in all that was Linkon City. The skyscrapers were unlike anything you had ever seen, and you were in awe of all the wonders this new world had to offer. Scared and exhilarated, a great combination.
You pulled on the Hunter's Uniform you had found in the wardrobe. It fit you like a glove, but you still couldn't shake the feeling that this was wrong. Like your mind was rejecting the whole situation because it couldn't understand it all at once. Your soul felt at ease, though- something you were grateful for since you guessed that was the sole reason you weren't completely losing your mind. Despite your inner turmoil, you were sure you had never felt more at home.
You just hoped no one noticed that the characte- you, had changed. You checked your phone again, and your shoulders relaxed slightly at the realisation that at least you weren't running late for once in your life. Who knew you'd develop time management skills after you were smited by whatever power had brought you to this new world.
You made it to the building in time but slowly stopped in your tracks as you raised your neck to catch a glimpse of the whole place and realised there was seemingly no end to how high the structure was. You took a deep breath- tried and failed to steel your nerves before you entered the office that would be your new workplace. You attempted to distract yourself with the voice that came through the speakers placed everywhere in the building.
"…One day, we will be able to evolve from our current limitations, transcend the boundaries of life and reach the stars." You silently watched as the glass elevator took you to your destination, the people on the street outside forming little specks the higher you went until they were barely visible. "At a certain point in the future, we can pass through the deep space tunnel… and discover the future awaiting us."
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You joined the crowd the minute you entered the Hunter's Association HQ, glad that the lights were dimmed and only focusing on the man you presumed to be the big boss of the place. The older man you assumed to be President of the HA stood on a podium, looking around and waiting for anyone else to join.
You really should have replayed the previous chapters in the game because even though you knew what was to come, your memory of the events of love and deepspace were hazy at best.
"…Fourteen years ago, the Deepspace tunnel appeared above Linkon. It led to anomalous geomagnetic storms, and the creatures known as wanderers emerged. From such an event, the Deepspace Hunter was born. Now, society has returned to a sense of normality, but there are still Wanderers lurking in the shadows. They-"
You didn't get to hear the rest of what the President was saying; a girl in the crowd to your right stole your attention. "After they hand out our badges, we'll be assigned to a squad, which will determine our future. Aren't you nervous?" You gave her a once over- what was her name again? Tasha? She was one of the side characters in the game and had a few scenes here and there.
You couldn't remember if there was an option to respond to her in the game or not. Would it change anything if you did? Did it even matter because this was your universe now? Fuck it. "Not in the slightest." You answered after a moment of silence, shooting her a small smile. You weren't wrong; you weren't nervous about your score- because if the game was anything to go by, your results were predestined.
You turned back to the speech. "You look excited, though." You looked at her from the corner of your eye, taking in her giddy form and fidgeting hands. "I am! I couldn't sleep all night!" She whispered back, covering her mouth with her hand to avoid getting anyone else's attention. It was hard to get over the fact that the person in front of you was real, and not a video game character.
She was the prettiest girl you had ever seen. Short hair that fit her face perfectly, clear skin, and a shine in her eyes you hadn't found in the passersby on the streets that morning. You gave her a soft smile, more sincere this time. You hoped she'd still like you like she had the MC of the game you played.
The two of you turned your attention back to the President, who was still talking. "…Goal as hunters is to extract the Protocores from Wanderers- in hopes of destroying them once and for all. That being said, congratulations on passing the selection process. We are grateful for your hard work." The President clapped, and everyone else joined in, including you, who was bested by social convention.
The President returned to resting his hands on the podium, "We will now begin the ceremony and hand out badges to the new Deepspace Hunters. First Candidate, 003931." His eyes swept the crowd, and you didn't need to see the number pinned above your chest to know it was you. At least you remembered that part of the game.
The girl next to you whisper-shouted as she looked at you. "That's you, isn't it? Hurry, get on stage!" And get on the stage you did. You straightened your back, pulled down your cropped jacket and approached the President. "Morning, Sir." You said, suddenly feeling awkward under his authoritative stare. He acknowledged you with a nod, gesturing to the screen on the podium.
"Place your hand here to confirm your personal info." You leaned forward to better see the display. You hoped the name that belonged to this body wasn't too out of character for you. You didn't want some 'Pride & Prejudice' ahh name. Anything but Jane Doe! Please!
You hesitated for a second before placing your hand on the podium and watched as a hologram popped up and generated your details.
"FIRST NAME: Y/N LAST NAME: L/N BORN: XX.XX.XXXX SECTOR: [PENDING]"
The hologram flashed the different level classification in the corner before a question mark appeared. The President gazed at the screen, "Ah, Anhausen Class… It's been a while since I've seen this Evol. You have a lot of potential for growth and might even acquire new abilities. I can see why Jenna picked you as soon as the rookie list was released to the public." You gave an awkward smile at his words, not knowing how to feel because, technically speaking, that was all the MC, not you.
The hologram made a sound, indicating an error. The word "LOST" showed up in red under the level specifications. "It can't be detected?" The President furrowed his eyebrows slightly at the screen. How did the MC explain this one away? You were sure it was something about an attack and the monsters of this world.
"I got attacked by a Wanderer in 2034, so my Evol isn't stable…?" It came out more like a question, something you inwardly cursed at yourself for. He stared at you for a moment before he nodded. "Hm. That event did change many lives forever. You're not the first Evolver whose levels couldn't be detected." He folded his arms over his chest. "This isn't the only criterion we use when evaluating a Deepspace hunter. As long as you have the skills, this industry welcomes you with open arms."
The President leaned to the side to grab a blue box. "Congratulations, you are now a Deepspace Hunter." He brought the box closer to you, urging you to accept your badge. You took it, muttering, "Thanks, Sir."
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There was no chance to relax as all the new Hunters went out on rookie missions to prove their worth in the field. You damn near jumped out of your skin when your Hunter's watch went off. "Rookies, this is Jenna speaking. I'm your UNICORNS Captain today. Ten minutes ago, there was an abnormal Metaflux explosion at this abandoned base for Protocore research." So that's what this deserted place was.
You felt it in your soul first before the detector picked up on the change; a pulsating vibration passed over you, serving as some sort of warning. There was something here. "It's nearby." You muttered, bringing your Hunter's watch closer. It beeped softly, showing a window stating, "Energy Index", with the numbers 19.5-
"Oh! Your Evol's even better than the detector." You jumped, scared shitless for 0.3 seconds before your brain realised it recognised the voice as the girl from the entrance ceremony. You turned around, the numbers from before forgotten as you faced Tasha. As if she had read your mind and your mistake, she corrected you. "Hi. I'm Tara,"- shoot, you had gotten her name wrong this whole time- "Remember me? I was standing next to you during the badge ceremony."
"Yeah, I do. Fancy seeing you here." You let out a dry laugh, cursing yourself mentally at your awkwardness of having to interact with people you thought were game characters less than 24 hours ago before you were whisked away to this new universe. She quietly snorted at your antics, "You're so cute! I'm so happy we're in the same squad! I saw you, and I just knew we'd be friends!" You blinked, stunned at her compliment and her palpable excitement.
You didn't realise you were tensing until you relaxed at Tara's warm demeanour. "Why don't we team up, then?" You weren't sure if she liked the MC this much straight off the bat, but you were grateful for the inviting air she had around her. You gave her a warm smile of your own. "Sure! The tarot reading I did yesterday told me that I would be super lucky today-"
You didn't get the chance to respond; Tara's watch started beeping, stealing both of your attention. "Wanderers! They're here." Oh fuck. You were not ready for this. Did you have to battle monsters now? At least in the game, there was no way of dying; the MC would just retreat and level up. Did you have that option here? To go back in time or something?
Your watch alerting you of a mission brought you back from your thoughts. You were ashamed that you hesitated for a second, even though you had just received a hunter's badge. You hoped muscle memory would help you fight- Surely, the MC trained in her free time when she had this body. You accepted the mission and looked back at Tara.
"The biggest threat level here is only B, which matches the fluctuations we just felt." At her words, you felt your stomach drop. Why, you had no idea. "Something's not right." You voiced out loud, not quite sure if you could place your finger on what exactly it was. "Yeah, fluctuations normally don't have set values." Tara nodded, folding one arm over her waist and bringing a finger to her chin as if contemplating something.
"Why don't we split up and look around first. Just to be safe?" Safe, your ass! Splitting up in movies always meant death! You didn't want your career to be this short; people would laugh! You gave her a stiff smile, unsure of yourself, as you watched her take her gun out of her holster. "You stay inside- I'll scout the perimeter to see how far the fluctuations go. We'll regroup here once we're done." You nodded, watching her walk off.
You let out a shaky breath as you returned to exploring the building. Wasn't this where MC had to battle Wanderers for the first time? Fuck it, you were 58% sure you weren't going to die, and those odds were good enough. Better than being labelled a coward and, in essence, becoming the company's pariah.
What were you supposed to do now? Wait for your movements to trigger a fight scene or something? You mused to yourself to ease your nerves, but you couldn't shake the feeling that you were forgetting something really important. You didn't get to ponder on the thought; a pop-up screen appeared before you.
Okay. So, this is what it felt like for all those main characters in the Isekai game animes when they saw an instruction window in front of them. You squinted at the words, taking them in.
"THERE HAS BEEN A METFLUX EXPLOSION, BUT IT DOES NOT MATCH THE WANDERER'S THREAT LEVEL. YOU MUST INVESTIGATE THE CAUSE OF THIS.
p.s: we hope this message aids you in your mission. again, apologies for the inconvenience."
So, whatever stole your normality from you really did have a heart after all. You were still annoyed for being blindsided and thrown into the deep end but found you were less frustrated at your situation as you pressed the accept button underneath the text. The pop-up disappeared promptly, and you walked past where it had been seconds ago.
You nearly had a heart attack when you heard what sounded like rocks shifting or falling. Your grip on your gun tightened, and you found your body moving towards the noise rather than away from it. Stupid muscle memory! It chose the worst time to make its presence known. What manner of man runs towards the sound of danger rather than away from it?
You finally had more control of your limbs as you slowed down at a clearing. Nature had slowly started taking back the part of the building you had found yourself in, leaves and plants covered the ground.
Your breath hitched when you saw him. Xavier.
That was what you were forgetting! The male leads! They were real, and you were destined to have run-ins with them if the game was any help… You could leave. Turn back and look for the Wanderer yourself and avoid having to interact with someone who had you screaming into your pillow at odd hours of the morning when you were playing the game.
No. You wanted to slap yourself for even thinking that running away was an option. In what world would you give up the chance to see your favourite boys up close? Maybe they wouldn't fall for you this time around, and it wouldn't be happily ever after because you had replaced the MC, but you could at least bask in their presence and handsomeness, no?
You lowered your gun, slowly getting closer, almost as if you were trying to pet a stray cat outside and didn't want to scare it away. If you remembered correctly, MC would try calling for backup, thinking Xavier was injured and needed help, and a monster would show up. You knew from the game that he was fine, just tended to fall asleep no matter the situation- but you also knew you had to get him up because a wanderer was on its way.
Common sense dictated you shake him awake, but you felt guilty knowing he liked his sleep. That, and you were enjoying yourself. He was the most handsome man you had ever seen, and damn it, if you weren't going to admire this artwork before you.
To be or not to be, you mused to yourself as you got closer to him and kneeled to his height. "…Hello?" You voiced experimentally, wondering if he'd wake up. No such luck, you realised as you called out to Xavier again, shaking him slightly. What were you supposed to do? At this rate, you would have to call for backup, if only to get him out of his slumber.
It didn't help that he looked perfect even while he was sleeping. He was ethereal, otherwordly. You were in awe of how his skin glowed and how the light reflected off his hair, making him look like he was painted. He looked like he had been cut straight out of the magazine, not a single dirty blonde lock out of place and long lashes that nearly kissed his cheeks. Why was he so pretty? The universe clearly had favourites.
After your fifth and final attempt to wake him up, you gave up; the guy slept like a rock- what were you supposed to do? You felt too guilty to try again; you felt like a criminal for taking away his nap. You'd just have to wait for your death, then. "Please, I'm too young to die again." You thought out loud in desperation, which seemingly did the trick.
He stirred in his sleep, and your breath hitched as his blue eyes finally landed on you. Oh fuck. He was gorgeous. Like, make your knees go weak gorgeous. Like, get lost in his gaze type gorgeous. Like make you wanna bark gorgeou- No! You had to stop your train of thought, focus and try to end the awkward silence between you.
You took a breath, steeling your nerves and putting on your brave face, "Hi, I know you were sleeping, and I'm sorry I woke you up, but you looked injured, so I wanted to make sure you were okay." You gave him the classic white man smile, the awkward one you gave to someone who would let you go first when going through a door or something. You winced, cringing at your words.
You hoped he wouldn't think you were weird. First impressions were everything. "I'm fine," Xavier answered after a beat, gazing down at his minor wounds, and it was over for you. His lazy drawl was smooth and inviting, comforting like honey. "But, you-" You didn't get to enjoy the sound of his voice or hear what he was going to say as the ground started to shake beneath you. The collar on Xavier's neck projected a blue hologram, and you knew exactly what it meant. A wanderer. Oh fuck.
Your body moved by itself, bringing your arms up and pointing your gun at the monster that appeared. "Watch out!" Xavier leapt past you and summoned his sword to attack the creature. You watched in awe at the speed at which he moved, lowering your gun slightly. He faltered as his collar turned red.
He jumped away, finding his footing next to you as the monster disappeared. "It activated its Protofield. You're a Hunter, right? Let's defeat it together." You looked from the purple portal that shifted to Xavier, then back.
It wasn't like you could refuse, you thought to yourself as you entered the portal after the blonde. This was your life now; you had to try and get used to it, at least.
The following five minutes were a blur; you took a back seat and let your body move by memory to defeat the Wanderer. You felt the fear during your close calls, but you were grateful Xavier had your back. When the fight ended, and the monster was crushed, you both were teleported back to the abandoned building.
A purple orb manifested and floated towards Xavier, and you watched as he grabbed ahold of it, shook his head and crushed it in his hand. "This isn't it." You moved closer, interested in his motivations. "Was there something wrong with it?" You queried, regarding the man with curious eyes. "Huh?" He gazed at you, looking lost. So he had no intentions of answering you and was gonna be all mysterious? Cool.
"Do you think there's more Wanderers lurking?" You changed the subject, guessing he probably didn't answer on purpose. "We became prey stuck in a trap the moment we walked into this warehouse," Xavier stated as he looked at his surroundings. "Come." He approached you, taking hold of your wrist as he led the way. You ignored the flip-flops inside your stomach and tried to keep your cool. You had to remind yourself he was doing this for the mission.
Xavier stopped, still holding onto you as he looked around, seemingly searching for something. "Did you enjoy your nap?" You piped, having spent too long in silence, the awkwardness nearly crushing you. "Hm? …Yes, I did." Xavier gave you a funny look, and you ignored it as you mentally cussed yourself out for asking him a closed question and murdering the chance of a conversation.
The uneasy feeling you had gotten since you came here had yet to leave you as you checked the screen on your Hunter Watch, confused as to why it didn't detect any Wanderers. As if reading your mind, Xavier answered, "They're Luminivores. No movement, no fluctuations." So that's why… You met Xavier's gaze as he brought his finger to his lips, signalling for you to stay quiet. "Over here." He cocked his head in the other direction, pulling you with him with his hand still wrapped around your wrist.
He pulled you to sit next to him, trying to hide your presence from whatever was lurking in the shadows, waiting for both of you. You sifted through your memories of the game, straining your brain to see if you could remember the chapter's outcome. As far as you knew, the Wanderers had set some sort of trap for Xavier, and both he and the MC had to take down other Wanderers before the stage was cleared.
"Feels like a trap set specifically for you." You voiced out loud after carefully thinking of what to say without sounding like some clueless Hunter who knew nothing of the monsters that attacked- you thought you did a darn good job considering you were someone who knew nothing about the Wanderers- and who could blame you? You played the game for the plot- the plot, of course, being the hot guys who got involved with the MC.
"I'm just a normal Hunter. You don't need to look too deeply into it." Your eyes softened as you looked at the man in front of you, realising from the game that he had a tendency to look away and avoid eye contact when he lied. Clearly, he wasn't ready to tell you what was going on, and you were okay with that. "Okay, I believe you." You stated, deciding not to dig any deeper.
You didn't notice the curious look he shot your way at your willingness to let it go. "What are you thinking about?" Xavier asked as he watched you furrow your eyebrows, deep in thought. You finally glanced up at him. "Why don't we bait them out and take them down in one attack?" You suggested, confident that the MC had devised a similar plan to defeat the Wanderers. "You…" He trailed off as he stared you down.
You ignored the heat rising on the tip of your ears due to his gaze. "Use your Evol." You stated, remembering the MC's words from the first time you played the chapter. He looked at where the Wanderers were starting to swarm. Xavier held his palm out before him, summoning light into it. The room darkened when he closed his hands. "Guess they took the bait. They're gathering now."
You willed yourself to shake the nervousness you felt, hoping your victory was predestined and that the two of you would get out of there unscathed. "There are a lot of Luminivores. If we don't take them out in one go, they'll respawn using the light." Your hand moved by itself, a feeling you had yet to get used to. You grabbed Xavier's arm, breathing as you willed your Evol to activate, "Then, let's use my Evol." He turned his attention from where your hand rested, to you.
His face… You thought to yourself what a shame it was to see his brows furrow, but fuck did he look good when he was all serious. You mentally shook yourself at the thought; now was not the time! "Please forgive me," Xavier stated as he moved closer, his breath tickling your cheek as he took hold of your right hand and rested it on his chest. You watched in awe as light gathered where the two of you met, a warm glow enveloping the both of you.
The wind picked up as your powers combined, and all you could think was, this was Resonance? It felt like you had joined on a spiritual level, your souls connected for a brief moment as your powers mixed and tangled themselves. All you could do was pay attention to his slow heartbeat and how good he looked with his eyes closed.
The Luminvores burnt away quickly; not a trace of them left as the light disappeared. Xavier got up, looking around and securing the perimeter with his eyes. "The fluctuations are gone, and so are the Wanderers. Your plan actually worked." You relaxed, your form no longer tense, as you realised you were out of danger for the time being. "Too bad we couldn't get any Protocores." You stated, remembering the procedure you were briefed on when it came to Wanderer clean up.
"Ah, they were accidentally blown up." You shrugged at his statement, not too bothered by the fact since you were still in one piece, which was more important. You had done it- with the help of MC's muscle memory. You had yet to get used to the foreign feeling of your body moving with a mind of its own.
The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, looking at each other, waiting for the other to talk. "…My uh, my name's Y/n. A new recruit. Nice to meet you." Xavier regarded you for a second, and you ignored how his eyes flicked from both your eyes down to your lips and then back. You definitely ignored your stomach doing the 'thing.'
"I'm Xavier." He paused, only for a second, before he turned to face you properly. "By the way, could you do me a favour?" And there it was, the line you were waiting for. "If anyone asks what happened, tell them that… Aside from the Wanderers, you saw nothing else, alright?" Ah, he was asking so nicely- how could you possibly turn him down? You never did understand why the MC was suspicious of Xavier when she first met him.
Then again, he was pretty vague and mysterious to start with. "Okay, if you say so." You accepted readily because, let's be honest, you were weak in front of that handsome face. Maybe it was because you hadn't seen his expression change much since you first encountered him, but you were sure you didn't imagine the slight raise of his eyebrows in surprise.
He looked like a lost puppy, reminding you of a golden retriever. His expression softened, no doubt confused as to why you agreed so readily to his demand, and you couldn't help the smile on your face. "Don't you want me to explain?" You softly shook your head at his question, "You don't have to explain yourself to me. Take it as a free pass for fighting with me."
Changing what the MC said in the game wouldn't hurt, would it? You hoped this didn't set off a butterfly effect that ended with you buried 6 feet under. Either way, he really did save you out there; you were sure if you had to take that Wanderer alone, even with the muscle memories of the body you were in, you would have been defeated. So all's well that ends well.
Xavier's lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but your Hunter's watch stole your attention. "I'm headed over to your location now!" Tara's voice came through the device, and when you looked up, Xavier was gone- so much for distracting yourself with eye candy.
The sound of footsteps getting closer had you turning around to face Tara. "I lost your signal and couldn't contact you at all. These protocore fragments… You took them down all by yourself." She asked, astonished as she lowered her gun. "Yep, all me." You mentally patted yourself on the back for how quickly you lied. "That's amazing! I'm so glad you're okay; we'll talk when the mission's over, all right?" You nodded at her suggestion, shooting her a small smile.
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Once the Wanderer clean-up was over, you, Tara and the New Recruits were ordered to return to HQ. You were just glad to finally be able to relax as you leaned against a wall. Curse you and your unhealthy body that was used to spending your free time indoors. Nothing of note happened after Tara found you, and thank fuck because you weren't sure you could handle another battle. 
It was nice and all, being in a game you had spent time and effort playing until you realised you'd have to relearn the meaning of 'normal'. The chattering of your soon-to-be colleagues did little to distract you from your inner turmoil. Your saviour came in the form of a girl whose name you had gotten wrong. Tara's voice pulled you from your thoughts, "By the way, did we get anything from the data we sent back to HQ?"
You gazed up at the ceiling, trying to recall what had happened since you returned through the blur of memories that day. "Something about waiting for results before jumping to conclusions. I guess Data Analysis still needs to do another investigation." You offered, hoping she wouldn't press you further about the mission. "I'm just glad you're okay; it must have been scary by yourself." 
You released a breath you didn't know you were holding, a small smile gracing your face at her concern for your safety. "Yeah, even though you left me to fend for myself. Guess it's my super lucky day, not yours." You teased, remembering her comment about a tarot reading from before the mission. "You're still in the mood to crack jokes?" She quipped, placing her hand on her hip. You didn't miss the twitch at the corner of her lips, and you couldn't help but snicker at her antics.
"For your information, I was trying to contact you for ages! I was so close to trying just about anything possible, scientific and mythical!" You had a feeling the two of you would get along well. You didn't get to finish the conversation as the light dimmed in the room, and the most gorgeous woman you had ever seen walked in. She was tall, with the most perfect pixie cut, sharp eyes and plump lips. You couldn't help that your first thought was, 'Mommy?' 
"Finally, we meet face to face, UNICORNS Recruits." The chatter in the room dulled to nothing as you lightly kicked yourself off the wall you were leaning on. "I'm relieved to see everyone has returned in one piece. Your performance was recorded and uploaded to our database by the Hunter's Watch each one of you is wearing." You absentmindedly fidgeted with your watch, hoping there wasn't anything suspicious in your results that would raise eyebrows. 
You froze when she made eye contact with you and continued. "UNICORNS only chooses the best of the best. The squad will take that into consideration and assign you to your appropriate sector. In the foreseeable future, the difficulty of your assignments, nature of your work, and scope of your missions will correspond to your sector's role and responsibilities."
You stopped listening, your attention span coming to its end as you started daydreaming. So, Xavier and the other male leads were as real as they came, and you were in a world where you would manage to run into them. You had to wonder if you were still the love interest after swapping souls with a nameless character. You guessed you would have to find out for yourself.
As if on cue, applause erupted in the room as Jenna thanked everyone for their efforts and participation, and you, like the sheep you were, joined in instinctively. With that, Jenna gave a small smile and left the room. The lights switched back on as the room burst into excited chatter once everyone's Hunter's watch beeped, signalling the results were out. 
The robotic voice of a woman sounded through the speakers. "Mission data analysed. Please report to your respective sector at 8:00 A.M tomorrow." Tara brought her hand up to inspect her watch, "Sector... Data Analysis. Captain... Andrew. Yes! I knew yesterday's fortune was right!" She turned to you, her hands clasping behind her as she leaned forward. "Well? What does yours say?"
You gazed at your own device, knowing the results already. "Sector, Alpha Team. My Captain's Jenna." Tara perked up, looking more excited about your results than her own. "You're working directly under Jenna? Wow... Can I visit you in the future whenever I want?" You didn't blame her for using you as an excuse to check your captain out; you would have done the same in her shoes. "Be my guest. We can admire Captain Jenna together." 
Tara whooped at your suggestion, doing a little victory pump. "Wanna get some food?" You suggested, not wanting the conversation to end. You were relieved when she agreed, telling you she was starving.
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Azure Square was beautiful, a cross between a park and stalls that lined the main street, branching off into the distance. Tara had led you there since it wasn't too far from HQ. Grabbing whatever street food caught your eye, the two of you strolled past the trees lining the path until you spotted a free bench near the square's monument.
You listened to Tara rant about her workplace crush, enjoying the scenery and her giddy personality. "…And just like that, the Wanderer was gone! Poof! Disappeared into thin air." You tried not to laugh at her gestures and hand movements that matched the story. "After escorting me to a safe place by the road, she said- "You're safe now. Go home." Aaaah! That's what we call max security!"
She lowered her clasped hands, and you got whiplash from how quickly she became serious. "So yes, as you can see, I became a hunter to follow in Captain Jenna's footsteps. I want to be as badass as she is- to be her equal and fight alongside her…" She blinked, trailing off before she rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. "Oh, I've just been rambling on. What about you? Why did you become a hunter?"
You parted your lips to respond, and you were not ready for the flashback her question had triggered. The screams of help were drowned out by roaring wanderers, the feeling of your stamina depleting as you sprinted through the streets covered in rubble, the panic of not knowing what was chasing you, the burning pain you felt as you were hit, the makeshift shelter you crawled towards in an attempt to save yourself.
Well, that was something, you thought to yourself as you blinked. The memory felt like it was familiar yet foreign at the same time. It was like trying to grasp at smoke, only for it to slip through your fingers. "Looks like you're reminiscing about something from a looong time ago." Tara's words snapped you out of your daze. "You could say that…" You trailed off, not knowing what else to say.
You were saved by the bell, or more like the drone that flew by to give a prerecorded announcement to the passersby. "This is a very important symbol for Linkon City! Mr. Guidey welcomes you to Azure Square!" The drone looked like a ball, clad with headphones that had bunny ears on top. "Here, the past and future coexist! The old and new mingle together seamlessly! This is the charm of Linkon City! Wow!"
"Ahhh, it's so noisy, like a kid who's constantly shouting." You agreed with Tara's complaints, but after a few seconds of listening, it started to grate on your ears like forks against a plate. Either way, you were grateful for the distraction. "Everyone, look over there! Tide Street is hosting a marine-themed exhibition! Follow me…" You followed the drone that whizzed off into the distance with your eyes before looking back at Tara.
Your silent question of, 'Wanna go?' didn't go unnoticed by her, and she promptly shook her head. "I'll call it here; we need rest for work tomorrow. After all, we experienced a real battle today- getting a good night's sleep takes priority. Plus, I live far from here, so…" You nodded, signalling you understood she had to leave. You gave her a small wave, one she returned as she disappeared into the crowd.
Once you knew you were alone, you couldn't help but think, 'What now?' It was too early to be left alone to ponder the day's events and how this was your new normal. As if the universe heard your inner turmoil, you noticed a boy in the bush near you, trying to look inconspicuous. You could sense the hesitation, but his eyes shined with determination. He was clad in a yellow hoodie and khaki shorts, perfect for the sunny weather and clear skies. You decided to call out to him, "You okay?"
That was all the encouragement the boy needed as he slowly stepped out from his hiding place, "So, miss, I overheard your conversation… Are you a hunter on mission?" You shook your head, correcting him, "A hunter on standby." You lowered yourself to his eye level, hoping you wouldn't intimidate him.
"Everyone says hunters are super strong, and you can do anything I ask, right? Riiiight?" You could tell he wanted a favour by the way he quizzed you. He confirmed your suspicions as he pulled out a stack of shiny, golden cards from his pocket, presenting them to you. "Here's what I'll give you as a reward! A full set of Super Hunters AR cards. Follow me!"
You didn't get a chance to say no as he grabbed your hand and whisked you away. "We're almost there. I need you to catch that little red fishie!" He dragged you to a stall and pointed at the prize he wanted. You nodded, signalling you understood the assignment. "I'll do it, but you don't have to give me your cards." This time, the boy didn't get to respond to you, as a little girl in the distance called his name.
"Lucas! You can't cheat in a contest!" The boy panicked, pushing you closer to the stall as he hurriedly spoke and threw the net at you. "Oh no, she spotted us! Take this net, and don't say anything about me hiring you!" He exclaimed as he ran off and left you by yourself. Were you still supposed to catch it from him?
You didn't get to ponder much longer; the sound of light footsteps approaching the stall urged you to turn around, and you regretted the choice immediately. You were not ready.
The man in front of you was drop-dead gorgeous. He had nothing on Xavier, and you could tell straight away that he had indeed been the game creator's favourite. A face sculpted perfectly, an alluring aura and the prettiest set of siren eyes you had seen and- motherfucker, was he glowing? "Unfortunate. This species of fish can only survive for a week on land." Rafayel stated as he stepped closer, gazing at the creatures swimming in the booth.
You inhaled and inwardly cursed as your breath hitched. You couldn't help but gawk, entranced by the beautiful man before you. His eyes met yours as he cocked his head and moved closer. "The fish is gonna slip away, you know." He pointed out before taking the net from your hand. You froze as his fingers grazed yours, not missing the feeling of electricity passing through you at the touch. He let out a little "Ta-Da!" as he went to catch the fish.
Rafayel caught it on his first try, manoeuvring the net in a circle, and the next thing you knew, he brought the tool closer to you and turned it around, showing you his catch. He gazed down at the fish between you, "The owner probably just wanted to throw in some fish to fit the theme- but this one, bright as a flame, is a real Flammula from Lemurian legends."
Your throat went dry, and you unconsciously gulped to relieve the discomfort, still starstruck as you looked at Rafayel. You couldn't speak even if you tried, and you weren't about to attempt to do so, only to have your voice crack, which you were sure would happen if you opened your mouth.
His eyes narrowed only a fraction, and had you blinked, you would have missed it. You wordlessly held out the container with water for the fish, nearly forgetting with all your ogling about the poor creature still flopping on the net.
He dropped the bright red fish into the water, never taking his eyes off you. Fuck's sake. Was he suspicious of you? But how? This was your first encounter in the timeline of the game. Had you met him before? Did he know you- the MC?
It didn't help that his collarbone was on show, and the little show of skin alone was nearly enough to make you go feral. His eyes dilated slightly in what you could only assume was… yearning? "Do you… Know me?" He asked finally, and you cursed at your lack of acting skills.
Had you actually played the game and paid attention instead of skipping lines until the MC interacted with the male leads, you wouldn't have had to suffer. What had the MC said to him in the game for him to walk off so easily? "I, uh… No? Should I?" You placed the container holding the fish down and shot him a question of your own, hoping it would open up a new chapter in the conversation.
Rafayel's eyes dimmed, losing the shine they had momentarily before he turned his head to look off to the side. "No… Nevermind." You tilted your head at his words- had you missed something? "Thank you for helping me, Raf- Ahh, rescue- rescue the fish." You winced at the way you stuttered, hoping he wouldn't notice how you nearly said his name without him introducing yourself.
"You…" He trailed off, stepping closer to you, and you did what any logical person would do when coming face to face with someone who was temptation and allure, personified- you moved back. Of course, of all the moments you could trip over your feet, it was then. You didn't notice the raised brick on the pathway behind you until your heel came into contact with it, sending you falling backwards to your demise.
Rafayel's eyebrows furrowed, and he moved with reflexes that surpassed even those of Xavier, grabbing onto your outstretched hand that had reached out instinctively to save yourself, his free arm coming to rest on the small of your back. Hand placement, hand placement, hand placement- "Are you alright?" He asked, gazing down at you with his unchanging expression. You realised then, on closer inspection, that his eyes were a mix of magenta and wine, a combination you never knew would look so captivating.
Fuck, his hand felt warm on your lower back; the heat from his hand managed to pass through your clothes, "Huh? Yeah… Uh, thanks- again for saving me this time." Once you had regained your balance, he let you go, but you didn't miss how his touch lingered ever so slightly. You watched his eyes leave yours, confused by the look of longing you found there.
You opened your mouth to speak, not yet sure what you would say, and as luck would have it, you didn't have to use your last three brain cells to utter a response. Your phone beeped, telling you your schedule for today still had a routine check you had to attend. "Damn." You mumbled, looking up as Rafayel stepped away from you.
He nodded, standing in place for a few more seconds as he gazed at you before he turned on his heel, silence following as Rafayel left you wordlessly, walking off with his brochure. You were still too caught off guard, not wanting to call after him with nothing to say. Fuck, you were sure there was something you were missing. You held the container in your hand before you, only then remembering the fish you were given.
That was it, you forgot to give it to him. Well, you had a new pet you had to take care of. You just hoped you hadn't changed too much of the storyline.
Unfortunately for you, small ripples had the power to create big waves.
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Rushing over to Akso Hospital in time for your appointment, you focused on breathing through your nose and getting your heartbeat under control. You were lucky you made it just in time since you had to find a fish tank for your new pet, food, bring the fucker back to your apartment, set everything up and not forget your medical report on the way out.
You noted that the hospital didn't feel like one; it looked more like a law firm. The only thing out of place was the receptionist at the front desk dressed in nurse scrubs. You were glad you got close enough to look at her name tag before you spoke.
"Hi, Yvonne. I'm here for my appointment with… Dr. Zayne? Is he still here?" You hoped to everything that he wasn't and had gone home. Out of all the male leads in the game, he was definitely the one you were most nervous to meet. He was a main character- and to top it off, his backstory meant he knew the MC.
Zayne had met the MC when her grandmother took her in; you were sure the two of them were neighbours or something- and that, by default, meant he would pick up on the fact that your mannerisms were different to the woman he was accustomed to. Fuck's sake. You had debated whether to miss your appointment on the way to the hospital but decided against it.
You'd run into him sooner or later; you would rather bite the bullet as soon as possible. Get it over and done with. "Don't worry, all checkups are in the system, which sends out notifications- Dr. Zayne can't forget them." Hah. So he hadn't gone home, and you were going to have to see him. Great.
You debated taking a seat in the corner where the waiting area was for a second to save yourself from standing in awkward silence next to the reception. The nurse looked up momentarily, her hand hovering over the computer's keyboard. "You've known Dr. Zayne for a while, right? I'll transfer your call over so you two can get started." She stated as she pressed a button on the front desk's phone.
You desperately wanted to refuse but had no legs to stand on. What could you have said? No, you didn't know him- the woman whose soul was in this body yesterday knew him? "Akso Hospital, for a brighter future." An electronic device sounded over the phone, and you knew in that moment that your fate was sealed. No turning back.
"Good job, you were ten seconds away from being a no-show." Zayne's voice followed, and you fidgeted with the paperwork in your hands. "At least I managed to get here." You mumbled, feeling like a kid getting a scolding from a parent. It didn't help that his voice was thick, a low timbre that was deep but didn't grate your ears.
Biiig breaths, Y/n, big breaths. "Don't worry, we have five seconds left." You wouldn't run for the bus if it was rounding the corner- what made him think you would run for him? "That's not fai-" He cut you off, still counting down. "Three, two-", and you were off, bounding down the hallway, not wanting to make things worse for yourself.
When you pushed past the doors and first entered Zayne's office, disinfectant was all you could smell. You scrunched your nose slightly at the assault on your senses, glancing around the room to find the man who had rushed you. Your eyes landed on him, gazing down at the computer's interface as he sat in his office chair.
You were floored. Utterly gobsmacked and starstruck at the mere sight of the man. His jawline looked as if it would give you a papercut if you traced it with your finger, his black hair was parted perfectly at the side, and fuck, those glasses really did it for you. "Congratulations, you weren't late. Is this impeccable timing a new Evol ability of yours?" He remarked, still typing away on his keyboard. When you didn't answer, too busy checking him out, he looked up at you.
Your lips parted slightly- the game did him no favours; he was beautiful in person. So handsome it hurt, with looks that could knock the air out of you. You looked away first, finding it hard to hold eye contact with the man. "I showed up, didn't I?" You retorted half-heartedly, sounding less confident in your words than you would have liked.
An uncomfortable silence fell as he continued to type away, returning his attention to the monitor before him. You walked over to him, sliding your medical report onto the desk between you, suddenly feeling awkward and out of place.
Normally, you were grateful when a message from- whatever power placed you in this world- materialised in front of you. Not this time. You turned your attention to the pop-up screen on the desk, obstructing your view of the paperwork you had set down moments earlier.
"MAINTAIN PHYSICAL CONTACT FOR 15 SECONDS.
REWARD WILL BE GIVEN ONCE THE MISSION IS COMPLETE.
A BONUS PRIZE WILL BE GIVEN IF TIMER EXCEEDS.
PENALTY FOR FAILURE TO COMPLETE WILL BE DIRE."
Okay, fuck whoever decided- what the fuck did they mean physical contact? And a penalty for noncompliance? You ran your hand through your hair, tongue in cheek, as you silently seethed at whatever deity was messing with you.
You turned your attention to Zayne, your features softening as he pushed his chair back slightly. "Report." Was all he said, looking at you through the lens of his glasses. You wordlessly bent down, pressing the "ACCEPT" button- because what else could you have done- as inconspicuously as possible.
The pop-up screen disappeared, and you pushed the medical report closer to Zayne, hoping he hadn't noticed anything was off. He picked it up, skimming through it before something caught his eye. "Any changes recently?" Yeah, maybe the fact that you woke up in another world the night before- you couldn't say that, though. You bit the inside of your cheek, looking off to the side when he glanced at you.
You had to think up a good enough lie that he would believe. "I've had patchy sleep, nothing big." Zayne's eyes narrowed at your words, and you shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "Sleep-wake syndrome… That's cause for concern- you do know that, don't you?" You didn't have it in you to care; you were too busy thinking about how you'd have to touch him for more than 15 seconds or face the consequences.
"It's 'cause I was nervous for my first day at work, I'll sleep like a baby tonight." You hyped yourself up for coming up with a fib so fast. He raised an eyebrow at your statement before going back to flipping through your report. "Ignoring medical advice about sleeping like it's nothing. I suppose you're just here to go through the motions." Zayne placed the papers down and moved his chair closer to his computer.
At first, you were offended by his words until you realised he was right; you had come here just to get it over and done with. Damn, you had no comeback. Except one- but it was risky… Fuck it, the impossible had happened overnight; this was your world now- what was the point of thinking and regretting? "Of course not. I came to see your handsome face." You leaned forward with a small smile to sell your sentence.
You placed your hand on the arm closest to you, thinking you'd shoot two birds with one stone. Zayne blinked, raising his head to look at you before he looked at where you two connected. His gaze narrowed at you, and you cursed yourself for the decision you had made. His fingers came to rest above yours before he gingerly moved your hand from his arm, and you swore you stopped breathing when he paused before he let go.
The tips of your ears started to burn, and you prayed he didn't notice the colour travelling to your cheeks. "Patients aren't supposed to flirt with their doctors, you know." He said nonchalantly, but you didn't miss how his jaw clenched. Your lips parted before you could contemplate what to say. "...Yeah, but it's not like you're just my doctor. I've known you long before today- or did you forget?"
Technically, you weren't lying; you knew a lot about him through the game, but you couldn't act on any of that knowledge- even though you wanted to. And let's not forget, he didn't know you. He knew the MC, who was now gone thanks to some prick who made a mistake with your places in the universes.
Now that you thought about it, out of the three male leads, wasn't he the one who had feelings for the MC before the game started? He shook his head at your words, sighing to himself. You didn't get to retort; the pop-up screen showed up yet again, now hovering in front of the curtains at the back of the room.
"PHYSICAL CONTACT: 9 SECONDS
6 SECONDS REMAINING."
Nice, there was a loophole. You didn't have to continuously touch Zayne for 15 seconds; you just needed to hold onto him here and there, and the time would accumulate. Okay, that was easier to work with. Movement in your peripherals caught your attention, and you shifted your gaze as Zayne moved to the other side of his desk, leaving his computer behind and effectively blocking your view of the pop-up. "Sit over here, please." 
You let out a "Hm?" in confusion- unsure of what he was asking of you. Zayne cocked his head to the side, "Listening." So... being vague was another one of his talents. At least you understood that he wanted to check your heart rate. "Sure thing, Doc." You remarked as you walked behind his desk and seated yourself on the little stool in front of him.
You watched as Zayne took the stethoscope's end out of his pocket and placed the tips into his ears before leaning in to listen to the beating of your heart. A small blue hologram, sort of like a loading screen, showed up on the side of the stethoscope on cue as the device synced itself. You raised your chin slightly when you felt his hand graze your rib, your stomach dropping like you took a dive off a rollercoaster. He was really testing your self-control.
Hopefully, he wouldn't find anything of suspicion. Fuck, he was too close, and you were so close to losing all willpower. You had to say something; the silence and his movements drove you up the wall. You inhaled softly, "I think I'm fine. My first day was stressful, but it's not like I'm ready to be hospitalised-" Your rambling was cut short as he hushed you, and you pursed your lips. So much for that option.
His brows furrowed ever so slightly in concentration, and you couldn't help how your eyes trailed to his lips. "Don't talk, but you should still breathe." Zayne finally looked up at you, and the inhale you took at his words got caught in your throat- you were sure your pussy did the 'thing'. 
You had thought his eyes were amber when you first saw him, but with how close he was, you realised they were a bright hazel, a mix of green and orange that blended seamlessly. Zayne moved closer, moving the tip of the stethoscope across your chest. You tensed when his finger grazed your boob, your breath hitching at the touch. "A fast resting heart rate. What riled you up this time?" You swallowed, trying and failing to steel your nerves before looking up at him. 
"You must be hearing things." You supplied meekly, cursing yourself for not sounding more believable. Zayne looked back up at you, raising his eyebrow, and you were sure you felt your cheeks warm but refused to acknowledge it. Clearly, he didn't believe you. Your only option was to be honest- well, semi-honest. "What do you expect when you're so close?"
He sighed, taking the stethoscope out of his ears and letting it rest on his neck. You opened your mouth to clarify, hoping you hadn't pushed his buttons too far, but you never got the chance. You didn't get to brace yourself as you felt your vision swim and your body go weak. You felt faint like you were barely there. Oh, fuck. The stress of everything that occurred that day finally caught up to you. 
You felt your world tilt sideways, and through blurry eyes, you watched Zayne reach out to you, trying to grab you in time. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for an impact that never came. Instead, you opened your eyes to having your face buried in Zayne's shoulder. He had pushed his chair closer to you since the distance between you was short, and he had his arms wrapped around you tightly so you wouldn't fall. You rested flush against his chest, no way of escaping his grip- not that you'd want to.
You breathed him in, your mind still trying to process what had happened. Zayne had caught you, thank god, and saved you from getting a concussion. Your heartbeat hammered against your ribcage, but you ignored it, enjoying his warmth while you had the chance. He moved back slowly, his arms still wrapped around you as he searched your face.
Zayne's eyebrows unfurrowed themselves when he realised you were okay for the most part. He closed his eyes before he leaned forward, and you were sure he was going to kiss you- so you did the most rational thing in your mind. You braced yourself, closing your eyes only to feel his forehead against yours. 
"No fever..." He trailed off as he moved back, and your eyes fluttered open, trying not to feel embarrassed at your thought process. As if you were ready to throw all logic down the drain and kiss him, unbelievable. "Must be low sugar levels." He stated before his eyes met yours. His gaze fell from yours, and you caught how he looked at your lips for a second before clearing his throat and letting go of you.
"Try not to faint again, hm?" Your ears burned at his words, and you wished a hole would open up and swallow you whole. He turned back to his computer, sliding a sweet to you before going back to typing. You felt your stomach flip at the gesture, completely enamoured with the man before you and his silent concern as you ate the treat. If Wanderers didn't do you in first, you were sure his presence would take you out.
"Heart arrhythmia, premature ventricular contractions, heart murmurs, and now low blood sugar." Zayne voiced aloud, and you had no fancy retort for him. "Damn..." You trailed off, and there was no smart comeback on the tip of your tongue this time. You took a peek at the pop-up screen still in front of the curtains.
"PHYSICAL CONTACT: 1:36 SECONDS
0 SECONDS REMAINING.
REWARD FOR COMPLETION WILL BE HANDED OUT ACCORDINGLY."
You breathed a sigh of relief that at least one thing had gone your way that day. "Despite being aware of the risks, you still became a hunter." He remarked, turning his chair to face you. "I had my reasons, didn't I?" You shot back, the flashback from Azure Square still fresh in your mind. He sighed at your response, turning back to his computer, clearly frustrated by your career choice. 
"Linkon has been the safest it's ever been under the watchful eyes of our skilled hunter, Y/n." You snorted at his response, not expecting the dry humour coming from the rock of a man in front of you. He side-eyed you, and you shot him an innocent smile, feeling less embarrassed at the physical contact the two of you shared earlier. "Who knows? Maybe my skills will come in handy, and I'll end up saving you from a Wanderer one day." You retorted half-heartedly as you leaned closer.
Zayne looked back at you, taking you in for a second before he shook his head slightly. "If you wish to hold something over me, then I suggest you be careful while out on the field." He placed another chocolate on the desk, on top of your paperwork, before sliding the pair towards you. "I'd prefer not to see you be airlifted to the hospital via helicopter." He turned to you once again, his expression still serious.
You shot him a small smile- you had been nervous to meet him at first and had forgotten in the process that he was the biggest softie in the game. He just hid it really well under his cold demeanour. The man in front of you was genuinely concerned for your safety, and you were sure you could feel your heart melting at his quiet gestures and vague words.
"Don't worry, Zayne. I'll be careful, just for you." You announced, your eyes softening as you stood up from your seat and popped the chocolate into your mouth. You grabbed your medical report, turning on your heel to leave, not knowing that if you had waited just a second more, you would've seen the starstruck look on his face.
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Once you took an elevator up to your apartment and unlocked your door, shutting it behind you, you debated passing out on the floor. Fuck, what a long day. Who knew meeting such handsome men in the span of a few hours would take everything out of you. You sighed, finally relaxing as you realised you didn't have to interact with anyone else until tomorrow.
You walked over to the fish container you had brought earlier, tapping it lightly with your fingernail to see if the Flamula fish would move at the vibration. It looked up at you for a second before it went back to swimming back and forth in the water. You fed it the recommended amount of food for the day after briefly looking at the back of the fish food you had grabbed from the store.
You kicked off your shoes, too tired to place them neatly by the door before you entered your bedroom to strip out of your clothes. You huffed, finally out of the tight-fitting outfit, grateful you could breathe easier. You fell backwards onto your bed, enjoying the way it made your body bounce for a few seconds before you felt yourself sink into the memory foam.
The sound of distant thunder had you tilting your head back to catch a glimpse of lightning strike across Linkon City. A storm, huh? Good thing you were indoors. Your thought process halted at the sound of your phone going off, and you shot up in bed to grab it and answer in time.
Your eyes barely registered the caller ID- Caleb, before you swiped right and picked up the call. Putting it up to your ear, you let out a, "Hello?" The voice on the other end spoke up, and god damn, he sounded like pure sin. "I knew you'd still be awake. What're you up to?" You glanced around the room, unsure how to react to hearing your- MC's childhood best friend.
"Resting after a rough day, I guess." You answered after a moment, not sure what else to say. "Your first day of hunting. Well?" He was curious, you could tell. You turned to lay on your stomach, the phone still up to your ear as you watched the view outside your bedroom with half your attention. "It wasn't that bad, I'm just exhausted. Social interaction isn't really my forte."
You knew you had to be easygoing with Caleb- you couldn't sound stiff because this body you were in knew him well. "Well, that's good. What matters is you're alive." You snickered slightly at his words, "What do you think I am, a weakling? And why are you calling me so late? Don't you have things to do?" You teased, hoping he wouldn't pick up on the fact that the person he knew his whole life was gone, replaced by you.
"I should be cruising along. My military flight operation wrapped up quite nicely and ended early." You nodded, not registering that he couldn't see you as you hummed in response. "You didn't see any dangerous Wanderers, did you?" You hoped you hadn't made a mistake and that his work was similar to yours so your question didn't sound out of place.
"Are you actually worried about me?" It was his turn to tease, and you scoffed at his remark. "Yes, of course I am." You answered truthfully; you weren't heartless enough to wish ill upon the guy who was supposed to be your best friend. "Come on, I know how important it is for you to visit Grandma with me at the end of the month. Even if I was in a wheelchair, you'd push me there."
You shook your head at his statement, "I'm not that mean. I'd let you wheel yourself there, don't worry." He let out a genuine laugh, choking on his words as he understood your reply, and you couldn't help the grin that took over your features. "Yeah, yeah. You know what- it's been peaceful, so I won't jinx myself. The field within the tunnel is as stable as it can be. Very few Wanderers, don't worry." You could still hear the smile in his voice.
You turned onto your back again, gazing up at the ceiling as he continued, "Everything else is top secret. My lips are sealed." You hummed again in response, familiar with workplace confidentiality. "Yeeep, mysterious and spooky." The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, one he broke after a beat. "It's late. You should go to bed now. Sweet dreams."
After saying your goodbyes, you threw your phone on the other side of the bed. You checked your alarms for the next day, setting multiple just in case the first one didn't wake you up before you turned off the lights and got into bed.
Tossing and turning before you found a position where all your limbs were comfortable, you let your eyes close, hoping sleep would kick in.
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You didn't realise you had dozed off until you woke up. Your vision was blurry at first, and you rubbed the sleep from your eyes before you realised all you could see was white for miles. What the fuck? Were you still asleep? Lucid dreaming? Sleep paralysis?!
Your answers came in the form of a woman whose face you were sure you recognised but couldn't quite place your finger on. She had materialised in front of you, looking around before her eyes landed on you. A light bulb went off in both of your heads simultaneously as the two of you realised what was going on.
"THE REWARD FOR MISSION COMPLETION HAS BEEN GIVEN. 1 MINUTE, 36 SECONDS, AS WELL AS A 5-MINUTE BONUS FOR EXCEEDING THE TIMER.
WE HOPE THIS PROVIDES CLARITY."
You quickly accepted the pop-up screen's words before turning your full attention to the woman in front of you.
"You're- You're her. MC." The woman before you was drop-dead gorgeous and had nothing on Jenna. Her hair framed her face perfectly, cascading past her shoulders, not a single lock out of place. Her eyes shined as if someone had stolen stars from the galaxy to place them inside her irises, her lips were naturally red as if she had lip tint on, and she had the longest lashes you had ever seen.
She smiled softly at you before she parted her lips to speak. "Hi, it's nice to meet you." You were star-struck. Was falling in love with her an option? Probably not, but you would have been grateful for the choice if it was there. "Hi." You didn't know what else to say. Sorry for taking your body and your life?
Yeah, that was definitely a good place to start. "I'm sorry for…" You trailed off, hoping she would understand what you were trying to say. She shook her head slightly, looking down as she contemplated what to say next. "It's okay, I uh, I actually wanted to apologise too, for…" You sighed; this whole situation was impossible.
She looked up at you, her brows furrowing softly as if she was afraid your exasperation was aimed at her. "It's not your fault; it's whatever brought us here. Don't worry." She perked up at your words, happy to hear that your frustrations weren't because of her. "At least we're back in our own worlds, even if it took time."
You nodded at her words because even if you weren't happy about your situation, you had no choice but to accept it. There was no turning back the decision the universe had made for you. "How is- how is everything?" You asked, curious as to how she was coping with what used to be your life. "It's great, actually, I've never felt so at home. I didn't expect it, but it's everything I asked for." She claimed, fiddling with her fingers as she looked down.
She perked up, looking more excited as she went on, "And, do you know TikTok?" You nodded, confirming that, of course, you knew of the biggest app of your time. "I managed to go viral on it. I don't even know how I was just experimenting, and boom! Apparently, I'm an entrepreneur, and people want to sign music labels with me!"
You were stunned at first but smiled softly at her, happy she wasn't struggling. You had to agree; you knew how she felt. You felt in that moment as if a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Standing in front of you was the only woman in the whole universe that understood what you were going through.
You opened your mouth to speak, wanting to ask her more questions, but your voice caught in your throat as an all too familiar pop-up screen showed itself.
"1 MINUTE AND 36 SECONDS, AS WELL AS THE BONUS TIME HAVE PASSED.
YOU WILL NOW BE TAKEN BACK TO YOUR WORLD, AND THIS POCKET DIMENSION WILL CEASE TO EXIST.
WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED YOUR PRIZE."
There was no option to accept this time, and you leaned sideways to catch a glimpse of the woman you had been dying to meet all day. She began to disappear, starting with her legs. Her lips parted, and you strained your ears to try and hear what she had to say. "Please, keep a look out for the red ey-" The rest of her sentence sounded garbled, like a PC game glitching.
You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to understand what she meant as your surroundings collapsed in on itself. You reached out to try and grab onto whatever was left of the woman before you, only for your eyes to shoot open.
You sat up in bed, still trying to wrap your brain around what had just occurred, only then noticing that your alarm had been going off. You would have to contemplate later; you had to prepare for your first official day as a Hunter before anything else.
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➵ next part - moonstruck (coming soon!)
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dollwrites · 9 months
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𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader but she’s not really there, masturbation, reigen keeps videos, oral sex ( m!receiving ), probably poorly written reigen, all characters featured are aged 18+
𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ big big special thankies to @arabaka for not only introducing me to reigen but also giving me advice about his characterization and helping me get to know him better 🥺. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3
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Reigen is so sloppy when he jacks off. that’s why he typically prefers to lie in bed, moaning your name, that way he can ruin his own sheets, or roll over on to his stomach to hump against the mattress. his sweat and cum mingle on the bedding, cheeks red and glistening, eyes closed as he digs his fingers into his pillow, rutting, needy. he imagines you under him, legs spread and eyes glassy like they get when he pounds you hard. he likes to make you go dumb on his cock, and remember how you drooled and begged him, later when he’s alone.
but every now and then, the urge for you rears its head while he’s at the office.
and that’s what the videos are for.
so that he might find himself sprawled in his chair, legs spread wide and cock jabbing upwards, pink-tipped and throbbing, coated in the spit in his palm as he strokes himself silly with one hand, and grips his phone tightly in the other. the audio is cranked, and the way your visage slurps as you worship his tip on the video before him is forcing his breathing to catch in his throat. you were always so damn eager to suck him off, and he was way more than willing to let you.
“So cute… how are you s-so cute when you—” he grunts to himself, and when your tongue glides against his slit on the screen, Reigen mimics, pressing his thumb against the sensitive hole and rubbing back and forth, just the way you would. he groans in the back of his throat, and his eyes threaten to close, but he wants to watch so bad, they simply flutter instead, lids heavy. after a moment of teasing himself, he watches your mouth open wide, and he elicits a soft, happy whimper when the squishy head slips in. he can remember exactly how the inside of your mouth feels, and he attempts to imitate the sensation by enveloping his cock tip with his palm, tightening his grip around the frenulum to simulate the tight, stretch of your plushy lips. your eyes, though zeroed in on the camera as he films you, go hazy when his dick fills your mouth, and Reigen’s hips push forward, fucking his own hand and the air, simultaneously, breathing ragged. he loves that look on your face— when your senses are overwhelmed, and all you can see, smell, and taste is his sex; it’s as if the moment his cock slips in, your brain turns off.
when your head starts to bob, up and down, Reigen has to shift, changing the pace and angle of his stroking, smearing spit and the beading precum over his cock as he pumps furiously to keep up with the rhythm you’d set a few nights prior. the cocktail dribbles along the edges of his fly, soaking a ring of wetness against his gray pants, but he doesn’t care, he’s too caught up in it. jaw hanging slack, cheeks cherry red, his breathing comes and goes in furious, strangled puffs in between gargling, desperate moaning.
“Pretty, little cocksucker… my pretty girl, so f—fucking talented with that, hng, soft mouth a’yours…” perspiration runs in racing stripes down his temple, over his cheeks, and streams on his throat as a prominent vein bulges there, a telltale sign that he was inching closer to release. Reigen can hear his own voice over the recording, begging you to suck it, pleading for you to suck his cock like it’s the only thing in the world that matters to you, and he can tell by the dizzy look on your face, that it is.
“P-please, oh— shit, ‘s good… you make me feel so, so good!” Reigen hunches forward, closer to the screen as his strokes become erratic, squeezing his tip and then bucking his hips to slide through his slick palm, fucking it like it was your throat. seeing the digital clone of his dick disappear, only to watch your cheeks bulge and your eyes roll back in your head, he’s teetering on the edge of a big orgasm, a needy one, but when you start to cluck with each thrust, Reigen knows that must’ve been about the time he was battering your gag reflex, and he lost it.
furiously pistoning his fist up and down his own length, he forgets where he’s at. he forgets himself, and becomes a grunting, panting, whimpering mess of taut muscles and rutting. “That’s it, y-yes, yes, yes!”
falling back against his office chair, his knees spread, the muscles in his arm burns, but he can’t stop, he can’t ease up off this brutal rhythm until the first spurts of his release erupt from his swollen, twitching cock. a flustered gasp, one in the form of your name, escapes his lips, and so does a small trickle of drool, as the first streamers land against his phone screen, dripping on and obscuring your euphoric expression. Reigen gargles a contented moan, his fist running up to wring at his tip, extracting more of his load in a milking fashion, until it splatters on his abdomen, staining his suit and dampening the white shirt underneath. what he had left to siphon out of his tender, softening cock dribbled out from his slit and oozed down along his shaft while he panted like a wild animal, globbing in the patch of golden hair at his base.
the video ends, and he’s too worn out to do much but allow his phone to clatter against his desk, twitching and bathing in afterglow. his office smells of his sweat and sex, and he closes his eyes, taking a ragged, satiated breath.
he still can’t believe the power you hold over him, how you make him a depraved, base fool. just the thought of you is enough to have his cock twitching again, and he groans, running the pad of his thumb over the throbbing vein nearest the base. “Already?” he asked aloud, incredulous at just how willing his body was to spring back and demand your attention. he would have to rub at least one more out before he could focus long enough to get through the rest of his work day.
but he would still be desperate enough that you would get the fuck of your life when he got home.
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kiss-me-cill-me · 4 months
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could you write a fic about any cillian character, of ur choice, were its the readers first time and he is really sweet and gentle? Luv your writings btw!!!
Any character, you say...? 👀 Well, then I guess it's time to take a shot at my white whale. I love zombies, I love 28 Days Later, and I love Jim. I have been somewhat avoiding writing for him because I didn't feel like I had any strong concepts for a fic, and I struggle to get his "voice" right in my head for the dialogue. But gosh darn it, the world needs more Jim fics. And I feel like this prompt just fits him. Thank you for the request, anon, and for giving me the push I needed!
Morning Light
Pairing: Jim (28 Days Later) x Reader
Word Count: 3.6k
Summary: In a rare moment of peace in a strange new world, you and Jim find comfort in each other's arms.
Warnings: Smut, loss of virginity (for reader, not Jim), oral (f receiving), praise, brief mention of past attempted sexual assault (basically what happens in canon), for the purposes of this fic we're gonna pretend that Jim doesn't get shot in the stomach lmao
***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***
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Jim’s lips taste like something you can’t quite put your finger on. Whatever it is, it has you swooning. Dizzy with desire as you inhale; trying to steady your breath while your hand trails down over his bare chest.
“We really don’t have to,” he murmurs.
“I know,” you reply. “But I want to.”
You lean in for another kiss. Bodies pressed so tightly together, laying on the rickety little bed in the tiny cottage you now call home, you truly do want nothing more. Jim, stretched lazily out beneath you, brings a hand up to cup your face and deepen the kiss. Your senses swell with that scent, whatever it is, and your eyes flutter closed against the light that streams in through the windows.
“Are you sure?” he asks, pulling away again, just enough to speak.
His nose still brushes softly against yours, and his thumb trails over your cheek. You feel yourself melt deeper into his touch, almost too distracted to remember to respond.
“I’m sure.”
“But… really? So soon after…”
You know what he’s about to say. What he doesn’t want to remember; choosing instead to let himself trail off as he smooths his fingers over your jawline. But that - that horrible thing that almost happened - is all part of the reason why you want Jim so badly. You want your first time to be with him. To be special; with someone you truly care for. 
Years and years ago, when all of your friends had been so desperate to grow up and run headfirst into their sexuality, you had been content to wait. But now, things have changed. Being alive suddenly feels fragile and impermanent, and your dangerous encounter with the soldiers has taught you that life doesn’t wait for you. Nor does it wait for that perfect moment.
Although, this moment here with Jim does feel somehow perfect. Jim’s body against yours is warm, and even with both of your sweaters flung over the side of the bed, you feel a heat washing over your chest as Jim wraps his strong arms around you a little tighter.
“Jim, are you really the nervous one here?” You laugh, your voice a bit airy and high as it betrays your own nerves.
“M’not nervous,” he scoffs. “I’m just… I don’t want to hurt you, or force you into anything.”
You let your body sink into his. Jim pulls you even closer, pressing your weight into his chest. Your forehead rests lightly against his, noses still touching as you laugh again.
“Girl gets you naked in bed like this, and you still think you’re forcing her?” you tease.
“Well, fair.” Jim relents. “You were the one who took off my clothes.”
Jim nuzzles into another kiss as he speaks, breaking some of the tension and making you clutch at his chest. This time, his lips linger against yours a little longer, parting just slightly so the tip of his tongue can dart out. You feel the ache inside of you deepen, your body calling out to his.
“But you’re sure, though?” Jim asks again. He moves his hand to your shoulder, steadying you. “You do want to? We don’t have t-”
His words are cut off by your hand drifting lower, until your fingers are wrapped tightly around him. Despite Jim’s insistence that you don’t “have to,” it’s abundantly clear that he wants to.
His skin is like silk under your fingers. Your hand moves slowly up and down, coaxing him on as you bite at his lip. Jim breaks the kiss to lean his head back into the pillow, eyes still shut as an expression of bliss overtakes his features.
“Okay - you’re sure you haven’t done this before?” he jokes, one blue eye cracking open to look at you.
You try to contain a laugh.
“Don’t flatter me,” you tease back. “It’s probably just been months since you’ve gotten any…”
“Ouch, insulting my masculinity and yet she still expects me to fuck her.”
Jim meets your sly look with one of his own, just as your expression crumbles into embarrassment. His smirk quickly turns into a smile, seeing the effect his words have.
“And she likes a little dirty talk, does she?”
Your face heats up even more, and Jim kisses the tip of your nose. 
“Sorry, love. Just can’t resist teasin’ ya,” he hums.
Despite your inexperience, you feel certain that you’re not supposed to feel this flustered. But, Jim has that effect on you. He always has. The pressure that’s been steadily building between your legs suddenly feels even more uncomfortable.
“Having second thoughts?” Jim laughs as you wriggle against him.
“You wish,” you challenge, pressing your nose against his a bit harder.
Suddenly, Jim grabs your waist and flips you over, so that his weight is pressed over you. He sinks a kiss into the hollow of your neck - still gentle, but with a hint of lust now that’s becoming impossible to ignore.
“Guess I might as well just give in if y’want it so badly,” Jim whispers, his breath fanning hot against your chest.
His words send a thrill of excitement through you; bursting out from your lungs and rushing all the way down to your toes. You bring your hands up to his shoulders, clinging to him as he pulls away from you. You’re confused for a moment, until he looks up into your eyes as he sinks lower down your body.
“How’s this?” Jim starts. “First I’ll eat you out, an’ then we can see how you’re feeling.”
The air seems to catch in your throat, but you nod. Jim plants a soft kiss on your stomach before drifting lower, hands parting your legs so that he can settle in.
“Lucky me,” Jim says, taking a long look at you. “Pretty face and a pretty pus-”
“Jim!” you cry, covering your face with your hands.
He kisses the inside of your leg, teasing with a gentle nip of his teeth.
“Ah, don’t get all shy on me, now,” he murmurs.
You look down to see a devilish glint in Jim’s eyes, staring back up at you. They’re so blue, you think you could drown in them. But, you fight to shake yourself out of the trance.
“It’s hard not to when you’re… looking at it,” you complain, laughing nervously.
“Hey, don’t be embarrassed - I mean it. You’re beautiful.”
Your cheeks burn hotter than ever as Jim continues.
“Every part of you is beautiful.”
He kisses your leg again, and before you have a chance to respond, his lips have moved over your core, and you gasp. Jim’s mouth is warm and wet; his tongue pressed flat against you as he gives you a moment to get used to the sensation. It’s so different from anything you’ve ever felt. Of course, you had touched yourself there before - but Jim’s tongue is nothing like the rough pads of your fingers. It’s so soft, and you feel yourself sink further into the mattress, prompting a low creak from the ancient bedframe.
Jim’s tongue moves just a centimeter, brushing up against your clit as he sucks gently into his mouth. You can’t help the soft sigh that leaves you, or the way your fingers grab onto the bed sheets, fabric bunching up in your grip. 
“How’s that feel, love?” Jim asks, breaking away.
“It’s… wow,” you answer, already a little out of breath.
“Rave reviews,” Jim jokes, smile creeping back over his face. “Tell all your friends, yeah?”
You have half a mind to shove him, if only you could find the willpower to reach down between your legs. As it is, all you can do is let out another breathy sigh. Your body feels strangely heavy, and you use every ounce of your strength to move your hips down toward him.
“Jim… more,” you plead.
You expect him to make another quip, but instead, you feel his tongue press against you again, the fan of his breath tickling you as he sighs happily. Your fingers curl, and your back arches. One of Jim’s hands comes up to find yours, peeling your fingers out from the blankets so that they can intertwine with his. You squeeze his hand, feeling yourself grow more and more desperate as the swirl of new sensations overwhelm you.
“J-Jim-”
You barely get to start your sentence before the pleasure reaches its peak, washing over you like the rays of soft sunlight still pouring in through the windows. Your sharp cry turns into a gasp, breath hitching as your whole body seems to buzz. Jim’s hand in yours anchors you, as his lips kiss you gently through your release.
When he sits up, Jim’s face is just a bit too smug.
“What are you smiling at?” you groan, throwing your head back into the pillow to stare up at the ceiling.
“Making you feel good,” Jim answers sincerely.
He kisses his way back up your body, finally pressing his lips to your shoulder and leaving another small bite.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
You sigh, letting all of the air leave your lungs. The pause lingers for a brief moment before you answer.
“Like I’m floating.”
“That good, huh?”
You can practically hear the smirk in Jim’s voice. Weakly, you bat at his arms.
“Don’t get all cocky,” you warn.
“I thought that’s what you wanted.”
Jim really is unbearable. You look at each other for a moment, Jim’s eyes fixed intently on your face, while you can still hardly focus on what’s in front of you. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
“Still want to keep going?” Jim asks you.
“Mmmm,” you sigh, nodding your head.
Jim’s hand slides down to cup your sex, one finger brushing against your entrance. He leans up to kiss you properly, pausing at the feel of your tongue in his mouth as you press past his lips. Whatever you had tasted there before was gone; replaced by your own slightly tangy arousal. Jim groans, and a deep hum fills your mouth.
“Let me know if you want me to stop,” he whispers.
But as soon as he pushes past your resistance, you know there’s no chance of you stopping him. The stretch is too good. You’ve done this before to yourself, too - but your fingers are slender compared to Jim’s. His fill you up and have you nearly seeing stars as you cling to him, moving to grasp his arms for support.
“Feels good?”
You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. The stretch only stings a little bit, and you’re so wet you barely even notice. The pleasure takes over as Jim pumps in and out of you, coating his finger with your slick.
“One more,” you beg.
“Be patient,” Jim scolds, as he continues to slowly work you open. “Try to relax a bit more.”
You do; letting your body settle down onto the mattress. As you relax your muscles, trying to focus again on your steady breathing, Jim kisses the edge of your jaw.
“Okay,” he says. “Tell me if this is too much.”
Despite your best attempts to loosen up, the addition of a second finger is just a bit painful, stretching you beyond anything you’ve felt before. You jump, a little surprised, then relax into the feel of it.
“Still alright?”
“Mmm-hm,” you reply, breathing slowly out through your nose.
“Good,” Jim breathes. “Doing so well for me, love.”
His words make you melt, and you feel yourself clenching around his fingers. Jim lets out a low moan.
“Fuck,” he laughs. “You’re gonna feel amazing. Can’t wait ‘til you’re wrapped around me.”
There’s that familiar heat on your face, rushing in as Jim makes your whole body burn with his words yet again. Not as filthy as before, but somehow the genuine lust in his voice is even worse. You feel him yearning for you; still pressed hard against your leg as he patiently stretches you out. You tilt your head back into the pillows, silently begging him to kiss your neck, and Jim’s lips press over your pulse.
“Jim?” you sigh.
“Hm?”
“Can you please stop stalling and fuck me now?”
You feel Jim smirk against your neck, clearly enjoying the fact that you have a dirty mouth, too - when you want to. He presses one more kiss to your collarbone.
“Stalling, am I? First time I’ve heard a girl call it that.”
Jim laughs, briefly, and you feel his breath fan over you again.
“I’d ask if you’re sure you’re ready,” he taunts. “But I really don’t think I’ve ever made anyone this wet before.”
You’re so turned on you almost forget to be embarrassed, but the feeling of Jim shifting to line up with your entrance is enough to make that burning heat creep over your cheeks again.
“Are you ready, though?” Jim asks, kissing you quickly before pulling back to let you answer.
“I am.”
You reach up to wrap your arms tight around him again as he sinks into you, pressing forward inch by inch. Your eyes widen by the time he’s halfway in, shocked at how it just keeps going. Jim feels your hesitation and stops.
“Everything alright?” he pants. Clearly, Jim is having a bit of trouble composing himself, too.
“It’s fine,” you reply. “Just… big.”
Jim laughs, a little more strained than usual as your walls press all around him.
“You’ll really have to stop stroking my ego like that if you want this to last more than five minutes, love,” he teases.
“Jim…” you start to complain.
“I know, I know. ‘Shut up and fuck me,’ she says,” Jim mutters. He presses into you a bit more, and a soft, desperate sigh leaves your lips. “Or at least, she would if she could think straight,” he continues.
He’s right; you’re not thinking of anything other than him, and how he’s filling you up so completely. Stretching out your walls and touching places inside of you that you didn’t know even existed, until now. Replacing the dull ache of your arousal with an unfamiliar pressure - but certainly not an unwelcome one.
“How’s it feel?” Jim asks.
“It’s… different. Feels kind of weird,” you admit.
“Okay, you don’t have to keep my ego in check that much,” Jim laughs. His eyes meet yours for a brief second, and then close. “But, fuck, you feel so fucking good.”
Jim’s face dips down to your shoulder, and you can tell that he’s barely still able to hold it together. Although you had been joking earlier, you’re certain that it truly has been months for Jim. You can’t say for sure when the last time he got laid was, but it had to have been before the start of everything. Poor guy. This is the perfect opportunity to mess with him. Call it payback for all the teasing.
“Alright,” you sigh, trying to keep your voice light and jovial. It’s harder than it should be when your heart is pounding out of your chest. “I got what I wanted out of you; we can stop now.”
Jim groans above you, his forehead pressing even deeper into the crook of your shoulder.
“You’re joking,” he whines, one hand gripping at your waist. His fingers tighten a little. “Please say you’re joking.”
You stay silent, lips pursed together in a barely-contained smile. Jim pulls back to look at you, and instantly notices the smug look on your face.
“You’re unbelievable,” Jim huffs, pressing his lips against your neck once again in a hungry kiss.
He pinches your hip, making you squirm. Jim steadies you, holding you in place as he plants another kiss on your lips, then pulls back.
“We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet,” he teases.
“You mean the good part wasn’t watching you almost cum all over the sheets just from eating me out?”
Now it’s Jim’s turn to be flustered, and you watch with delight as a soft dusting of pink crosses his cheeks.
“You’d better watch it,” Jim says, squeezing you again. “I was gonna be gentle, you know. But if you keep this up, I might just have to fuck you silly.”
You giggle, the sound of your bright laughter filling the room. For a few seconds, the only thing in the world that matters is Jim. Every moment that’s brought you here, no matter how painfully etched in stone, is worth it to be here with him.
“Will you, though?” you say, bringing Jim’s face a bit closer so yours can look into his eyes. “Be gentle?”
“Of course,” Jim hums, leaning down to kiss your soft lips. “Are you still feeling okay?”
“Yes…”
And you are. You've gotten used to the stretch, and the strange pressure has built into a need that has you fighting to stop yourself from pushing up against Jim’s hips, desperate for friction.
“You sure?” Jim asks, sensing that something has been left unsaid.
“I just… I want to feel you move,” you admit, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.
Jim turns his head to kiss your temple, letting his lips hover over your warm skin.
“That's the good part, love,” Jim teases. “Wrap your legs around me,’kay?”
You do as he says, bringing your legs up to fold around his waist. It causes Jim to hit at a new angle inside you, and for a second you think about backing out. This feels like it could be too much; like he's able to press too deeply inside of you - and the thought of giving someone else so much of yourself is daunting.
But when Jim starts to move, gently and carefully, all of your worries disappear. The first few times he thrusts feel a bit strange, but soon, the feeling is making you lightheaded in the best possible way. Not to mention the way that the swell of his head seems to part you, making you clench at his absence and sigh in pure bliss when he fills you back up. You can feel every inch of yourself as he slowly rocks in and out, hips staying close to avoid overwhelming you.
“Jim!” you cry, squeezing your legs around him a little harder.
“You like it there?” he grunts, his voice gentle but laced with desire.
He changes his angle to hit the spot again, and this time your fingers press into his back. Jim kisses you, swallowing your moans as you feel yourself building toward your release. This time, with Jim pressing deep inside you, you feel yourself clamp down around him.
“Gonna come for me again, pretty girl?” Jim whispers.
Your body is too rigid to even nod as you feel it finally wash over you - a wave of pleasure more intense than you can handle. You're panting and laughing all at once as Jim presses kisses all over your face.
“That was incredible,” he praises, softly. 
You look up to see him, his face framed so perfectly in the glow of the morning light. His lips are slightly parted, awe plainly written in the way his eyes trail over you. You have a sudden urge to run your fingers through his cropped hair, and press his mouth to yours.
But instead, Jim leans down to give you another gentle kiss. That taste on his lips is back again, slightly sweet and utterly addictive. 
“Enjoy your first time, love?” Jim teases, pulling himself out of you with one final, toe-curling drag. He kisses you again, lips pressed firm against yours like there’s truly nowhere else in the world he’d rather be.
You surface from your post-sex haze just long enough to be confused. Aren't these things supposed to end with a little more… bravado?
“Jim, aren't you gonna…? Don't you want to…?”
“Not this time, love,” he cuts in. “Like I said, don't want to hurt you.”
“You wouldn’t hurt me!” you protest.
Jim pauses, still hovering just above you. He leans down to whisper in your ear, his low voice getting a shade darker.
“Maybe not, but I do think I might break the poor bed if I let myself do everything I want to ya,” he murmurs.
“We can sleep on the floor,” you say, responding without hesitation.
Jim laughs softly, trailing his fingers over the swell of your hip. He pulls back to look at you again, blue eyes swimming with lust.
“Don't worry, love - you look so good like this, I'm not gonna be able to resist it for long. But for now…”
Jim flops down onto the rickety bed, pulling you with him to rest on his chest. The rhythmic rise and fall of his breath makes you feel calm, soothing you all the way down from your high. Jim brings a hand up to cradle your neck, pressing you into him just a bit more so that he can lean down to kiss your forehead.
As you lay there together, your eyes flutter closed.
“Jim?”
“Mm?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?” he scoffs. 
Same playful Jim that you first fell for, weeks ago now. You can't help but smile, and snuggle up a bit closer.
“For always being here for me,” you answer.
“Of course, love.” Jim's breaths are slowing down now, lulling you into the same sleep that he's quickly falling into. “Any time.”
You kiss him, lips pressing into his bare chest, and Jim’s arms squeeze you tightly. As the sunlight streams in through the dusty windows, blanketing both of you in its warmth, you realize just how lucky you are. You press an ear against his chest, listening to the thrum of Jim’s heartbeat.
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conundrumoftime · 8 months
Text
Fandom grandma tales: how I survived canon ruining two of the ships I liked.
(Written after a discussion with some of my TROP fan pals about how canon can break your heart re: shipping, and how fandom manages. There are spoilers here for the entire run of Babylon 5, and for one story JMS wrote after it. yes, that story. sorry.)
Babylon 5 was a sci-fi space opera show that ran from 1993 to 1998. It is sci-fi of the era of 22-episode seasons, of huge ensemble casts with characters who get their own B- and C-plots, with an effects and casting budget that doesn’t always match its ambition, and - something it was quite pioneering in, at the time - grand pre-planned story arcs. 
It’s the first fandom that I was involved with in internet spaces as it was running, or at least when its final season was (there’s Discourse and drama from earlier years that I missed). Its showrunner, J. Michael Straczynski - ‘JMS’ - was very active in (non-fanfic) fan community spaces, and you always knew exactly what he was thinking about things because he was part of the discussion around them. There was also fanfic, which he didn’t stop but didn’t go near on the grounds of legal liability for story ideas. 
Most of the fanfic in the early days as the show was airing was focused around two big ships, of which one was canon endgame (Delenn/Sheridan) and one was canon all-ends-in-despair (Marcus/Ivanova). I, as a teenager discovering a developing online fandom for the first time with all the overwhelm and excitement that causes (ask me anything about what reading fic was like before the days of tags/ratings/warnings!) got into Marcus/Ivanova and also into one of the minor ships, Delenn/Lennier.
Delenn/Lennier was never, ever going to happen in canon. This is obvious; it clashes with Delenn/Sheridan which was JMS’s baby darling OTP, the show’s big love story. Delenn is married for the later part of the show. Lennier is her diplomatic aide, is absolutely devoted to her, and they have a very intense mentor/student relationship, which it seems is kind of standard in their culture (when Delenn’s own mentor died she went briefly insane with grief and started a genocidal war over it) but is still Very Intense. He is canonically in love with her, but that’s as far as the explicit canon statements go.
However. HowEVER. Canon also gives us, for that relationship, some wonderful ship fuel. Lennier knows about every bad thing Delenn has done, including all the stuff she doesn’t/can’t tell her husband. He’s her link to her previous world and culture and stands by her even when they kick her out. She says at one point, “without him, I would stumble and fall and never get up again.” 
And then… we had Season 5, the final season.
Season 5, for various complicated production reasons, was operating a little outside of pre-planned story arcs and in this season the Delenn/Lennier stuff ramped up about three gears in one go. It was still very obviously never, ever going to be canon, and was almost certainly not intended by the creator (who wrote most of the episodes himself) to look like there was even anything there. At this point Delenn is married; any relationship with her aide would not only be going against the show’s OTP, but going against it in the sense where she’s cheating on her husband, and there is Just No Way JMS would have gone there. And yet! Season 5 gave us:
A scene where Lennier says he can’t stay, it’s too painful to be around her now she’s married, and she’s devastated and has the following conversation with her husband about it:
S: I got your message about Lennier. Is there anything I can do?
D [snapping]: Almost certainly not.
S: Is it because of me?
D: In part, I think so.
S: Yeah, I was afraid of that. Well, as we say back on Earth, three’s a crowd.
D: On Minbar, three is sacred.
S [slightly uncomfortable laugh]: Well, I don’t think I’m ready to handle that one, Delenn.
Delenn then calling Lennier back to the station to do some secret mission thing for her, which involves her sneaking out of her bed while her husband sleeps to meet Lennier in a darkened alley behind a bar, where she tenderly strokes his face and they have a whole conversation about whether her husband understands her or not.
A scene where Lennier comes back from his secret mission to meet both Delenn and Sheridan, Delenn goes to greet him with a hug, and Lennier does this very pointed step back and nod in the direction of her husband, and she pulls back and just sort of pats him on the arms instead. 
I MEAN.
But, the issue here is not what fans did about it but what canon did about it. Canon did the canon equivalent of dragging that ship outside and shooting it in the head. 
In the final few episodes of the entire series, Lennier tries to kill Sheridan, runs away in shame, and then someone finds his diary in which he’d been writing for ages about what a bad decision he thought Delenn had made and how her whole marriage was an awful idea. Even to this day, it’s fun/awful watching people go through a first-time watch when they get to season 5 and hit that. ‘Character assassination in the form of a diary’ was a whole thing for a while. It’s been 20+ years and the actor who played Lennier is stilll mad about it (not because of shippy stuff, but because he - correctly! - thinks Lennier absolutely would not have done that). 
What *fandom* did, on the other hand, was Fixed The Problem.
Delenn/Lennier was not at all a big ship when the series was airing, and for a few years after. Then the fandom dynamics started to change. With less pressure on what canon was going to do, it felt like fandom had more space to play around with things it didn’t do. Fanfic got less interested in trying to fit within the overall story being told and started spinning off in all its own directions. And *this* ship started getting bigger and bigger. People did really interesting things with it, canon divergence went in all directions, everyone wrote a fix-it story of some variety, some authors did a great series of connected stories based on an idea that Minbari have three genders, the quality of the writing has been brilliant. And I think without that absolute whiplash feeling of what happened in canon, there would never have been this feeling of “well I’m not having THAT” which led to all this.
We did not need canon! Canon had done its thing. And canon had broken our hearts enough ways with many of the other stories it told (entirely on purpose) and we weren’t just going to sit back and let it ruin us forever.
By comparison, the other ship I was into was Marcus/Ivanova. This is entirely doomed. Susan Ivanova’s love life is just perpetually doomed. The first partner of hers we meet is an ex who’s interested in getting back together, but then it turns out he’s just using her to infiltrate the station for the fascist terrorist group he’s secretly joined. Then she falls for an archrival of hers, Talia, who works for Psi Corps, the organisation she loathes most of all things - but it’s okay because it turns out Talia is starting to question them too! Maybe these crazy kids can make it work! They have one night together and then OOPS turns out Talia was being secretly controlled by a sleeper personality implanted in her by Psi Corps the whole time. Ivanova’s love life is doomed. 
So for two seasons, she has this sort-of-flirty, sort-of-bickery, sort-of-friendship going with Marcus, who is on the surface of it very much “why not fall in love at first sight like a true romantic, YOLO!” but it turns out is actually deeply messed up himself and full of survivor’s guilt and pain and, you get the clear impression, would have died of shock if she’d actually called his bluff on the OTT flirting and said “yeah, let’s go for it”. And then he sacrifices himself to save her life. It is a very tragic ending, it is absolutely the way he would have wanted to go, she wakes up both furious and absolutely distraught, says that the last thing she heard was him saying “I love you”, says she wishes she’d at least slept with him once, and says that in a way all love is unrequited. PAIN. 
So, lots of fix-it fanfic, lots of ‘Marcus comes back to life’, lots of canon divergence AUs where he doesn’t die and they live happily ever after and both get over their huge levels of unresolved pain. Pretty standard for that kind of pairing. And as a pairing it doesn’t get in the way of any big canon pairings, it doesn’t imply anything icky like mentor/student power imbalances or adultery. And JMS clearly quite liked it. So that’s better, right?
NO. It was WORSE.
JMS wrote an Marcus/Ivanova story himself, published in one of the sci-fi magazines, to try to give them a happy ending. This happy ending involves Marcus, many many years in the future, waking up from the cryogenic suspension he’s in (it’s sci-fi, keep up, keep up). Ivanova is long dead, but he isn’t about to let this get in the way, so what he does is to *create a new Ivanova* by getting some kind of DNA + computerised memory/personality bank thing, finding a doctor who will clone her, putting himself back into animated sleep until the clone reaches the age Ivanova was when she died, then - THEN, I’M STILL GOING - takes her to a distant planet where, with her memories wiped and their spaceship having deliberately been crashed BY HIM so there’s no way back, they live out their lives in peace.
WHAT.
That pairing still does okay in fandom but it’s not really taken on a post-show world of headcanons and riffing on other people’s ideas and tropes in the way that Delenn/Lennier has (and we all just pretend that story never existed). 
So! This has been my experiences in the field of What We Do When The Show Has Thoughts On That Non-Endgame Ship We’re Into. Fandom manages. Fandom will see you through. And in the words of Susan Ivanova:
Babylon Five was the last of the Babylon stations; there would never be another. It changed the future, and it changed us. It taught us that we have to create the future, or others will do it for us. It showed us that we have to care for one another, for if we don’t, who will? And that true strength sometimes comes from the most unlikely places. Mostly though, I think it gave us hope that there can always be new beginnings - even for people like us.
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bloopitynoot · 8 months
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3 Shadowgast fics that made me ugly cry
Okay so I read a LOT of shadowgast fanfics and I wanted to share some of the ones that made me absolutely weep. (I was going to wait until tomorrow but I got too excited to share).
All of these have some intense emotional distress, but I promise you all they may be angsty but they absolutely have happy endings.
They are all set in very different AU's, are hefty completed fics, and have similar feels!
1. the breathe before the phrase
(171513 words) by @kmackatie Chapters: 20/20 Rating: Explicit Summary: The ringing note of a concert A is played by the oboe, echoing on its own in the space. It’s picked up by the wind section, followed rapidly by the brass, and the familiar feeling of an orchestra calibrating takes over Caleb. The tonal adjustments as each person brings their instrument into alignment sinks into him and something inside Caleb shifts in recognition as Essek leads the strings into their own tuning. It’s like something is waking up, like something unfurling and firing across long-unused paths of memory. His hands shake slightly, as he raises his bow and joins them, fingers fumbling against the pegs and fine tuners that give him control over his instrument. ---- Essek Thelyss is a leading violinist, his spot as Shadowhand of the Rosohna Philharmonic Orchestra has been uncontested for over a decade. Caleb Widogast is a recent arrival to the city, convinced by his friends to audition for one of the vacant violinist positions. After starting off on the wrong foot, Caleb and Essek get to slowly know each other, discover what brings them joy, create while defying expectations, and find out that what they can produce together may just be better than anything they can do separately.
Why I cried: The amount of pressure put on Essek made my heart absolutely shatter. That plus the pinning between Caleb and Essek had me weeping. The hurt/comfort energy. The bad parent Dierta and of course past Caleb Ickythong trauma healing. Other than the story itself Katie has put so much energy into explaining the music, the playlist is stunning, and the inspiration for the played pieces in the fic are grounded in actual compositions. No spoilers, but the ending is gorgeous <3
2.Till Human Voices Wake us
(66080 words) by @ariadne-mouse Chapters: 23/23 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Additional Tags: Merman!Caleb, no Mighty Nein but otherwise canon setting/events, Neutral evil Essek, Essek-typical anxiety and fatalism, Loneliness, Hurt/Comfort, spooky gothic vibes, some horror and disturbing imagery, the ocean as a threat/love language, Illustrations, drowning themes Summary: Essek Thelyss, lonely and ambitious prodigy, comes to Nicodranas to make a risky gamble with the Assembly. At the water’s edge, he finds himself swept up in another dangerous entanglement he can't seem to escape — and as time goes on, he's less and less sure he wants to. Will his treasonous alliance or the sea itself devour him first? (Or, the one where Caleb is a merman.)
Why I cried: okay so look, this story was so fucking sad I can't even begin to describe it. The love and longing between the two, the tragic backstory for Caleb. Treason = death for Essek (it's a happy ending though so do not worry, but I definitely worried so you don't have to LOL). It also has some stunning art in it!!!
3. what luminous worlds await
what luminous worlds await (178674 words) by @essektheylyss Rating: Mature Additional Tags: Champion of the Luxon AU, Alternate Universe - Future, Space Opera, Religious Conflict, religious trauma, Violence, Minor Character Death, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Dreams vs. Reality, Demisexual Essek Thelyss, Past Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Angst, Fictional Religion & Theology, Implied/Referenced Sex, Mention of Using Sex as Self-Harm, several immortals grapple with loss while trying to save the world, so so many liberties taken with consecution, this wouldn't be a problem if you'd EXPLAIN matthew mercer, and/or if a certain drow would give literally any straight answers, (I mean he can't give straight answers when he's not straight), Background Fjorester (Past), Post-Canon, …very post-canon Summary: “You seek my nature. It is a lonely endeavor. Would you like to join me on this path?” “Yes.” — After a thousand years, a divine champion awakes in a lightless cave above Port Damali with little memory to speak of and a beacon in his hands. Even as he struggles to piece the past together and process what he has lost while he slept, the future demands he answer for the crimes of his elders. It offers little in return, but perhaps there are fragments of possibility awaiting him.
Why I cried: Omg oh boy, this one made me BIG cry- honestly one of my favourite fics I have read so far. A true space opera, a story of love, in many forms, over time, space, and multiple lives. I sobbed from chapter one literally until the end. Though I think you will need an A03 account to read this one, but it is worth the wait to set one up. My partner watched me cry so much while I read this. I totally did download and save this fic to send to pals so they can cry with me. It is worth the agony for this happy ending. I might still be crying LOL
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desert-fern · 8 months
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A Gun Amongst Daggers - Jake “Hangman” Seresin X Fem!Navy Seal Reader
Part 19: ‘Cause You’re The Reason Love Comes Easy
Summary: When Jake meets a woman at the Hard Deck, the last thing he expects is for her to be a Navy Seal. And not just any Seal, the Commander of Seal Team 3. She’s beautiful, smart, dangerous, and everything about her just makes him want to get close. Her name? Bear. When the Seals need backup, Cyclone puts the Daggers on their radar and now, Jake has to work with Bear and her team, all the while trying to stay professional. Can he do it? Or will he end up falling for the Navy sniper and mission Commander?
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A/N: Chapter title is from the song Nights Like This by St. Lundi
MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE! 18+ ONLY. MINORS & BLOGS WITH NO AGE/EMPTY BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.
Warnings: a little hurt/comfort, flirty Jake (yes that is a warning), it’s mostly fluff this week, but lmk if I missed anything
Word Count: 5.0k
Masterlist >> Part 18 >> Part 20
===
The recovery from the pain inflicted was long and arduous, and there were days where Bear was 10 seconds away from just saying ‘fuck it’ and quitting. But Jake was always there, offering both a steady presence and a shoulder for her to cry on in the midst of her frustration. He never judged her, and despite everything she did to try and push him away from her so that Jake, her Jake, didn’t see her like this, he wouldn’t budge from her side.
“Why are you still next to me?” She had asked him, eyes welling with tears as she struggled to take in another deep breath. “Why haven’t you given up on me?” Her voice was cracking under the strain it took her to try and draw a full breath and the weight of her feelings of failure. Walking for longer than an hour was too much of a strain on her lungs, and forget running. Her lungs burned at the thought and she was so close to bursting into tears, if only she could catch her breath.
It broke Jake’s heart to see her this way, this insanely strong woman reduced down to the foundation of her character, sitting amongst the rubble that was her life. He loved her. Every fiber of his being was drawn to her, had been since they had met, and now, watching her struggle physically hurt. “I haven’t given up because I love you,” he replied, wiping her tears away. “Because you went through all of this because of me, so I am here. And I will be here until you tell me to leave.”
Bear had nodded, grimacing as she took his offered hand and grunted when Jake pulled her to her feet. “I would do it again.” Her eyes were full of the same conviction that was clear in her voice, and Jake could help but smile sadly.
“In a perfect world darlin’, none o’ this would’ve happened,” he told her, holding her close, savoring her nearness in the privacy of the gym at 0200. “We’d already be together, you would kick my ass all the time and I’d love you more for it. Maybe we’d be on a date right now,” he mused aloud, smiling at his thoughts.
“Yeah? Where would you take me?” Bear glanced up, catching the tenderness shining in the green eyes above her. She could feel the love radiating from Jake, could feel it just as she felt the warmth of his body against hers, felt his arms wrapped around her waist and lower back.
Jake hummed, smiling at Bear. “You can never go wrong with the classics right? Movie then dinner, maybe a walk if we weren’t ready for the night to end just yet. That sound about right?” His heart hammered in his chest, just hoping he hadn’t read her wrong. “Maybe I’d kiss you for the first time too?”
But he hadn’t and if Jake hadn’t been holding her up, Bear’s legs might have given out on her. “It sounds perfect,” she admitted, grinning up at him. A hand wound its way up to cup the back of Jake’s head, pulling him close. “I love it. Definitely would have won you some points, Flyboy.” Bear knew that she had a wide grin on her face, mirroring the one Jake was giving her, and she couldn’t help but lean in and kiss him fiercely.
She felt Jake’s smile against her lips as he kissed her back, his arms tightening around her, like he feared she’d slip away from him if he didn’t keep her close. But unfortunately, the tight hold shot pain up her ribs, making Bear gasp, teeth coming down hard on his bottom lip. “Shit! I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” Jake had immediately loosened his hold and would have completely stepped away if Bear didn’t place her hand on his jaw, steadying him and keeping him close.
“Jake, honey I’m okay. I promise,” Bear assured him gently. “Are you okay?”
He nodded, but Jake didn’t look convinced. “Yeah.”
But his eyes were looking everywhere, falling on everything but her eyes. “Honey…” she trailed off when she caught sight of the tears on his cheeks and the evident pain rippling in the green eyes Bear had come to adore. “Talk to me.”
Jake swallowed thickly, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He still wasn’t meeting her gaze. “You don’t need to deal with this. You have enough to work through.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to suffer in silence,” Bear’s tone was adamant, full of barely contained anger and softened considerably when she gently turned his face to look at her. “Jake, please. You’ve been here for me for a while now. Let me be there for you too.”
“I-I’m both relieved and terrified that you’re here,” he whispered, ducking his head to stare at the Navy logo on the sweaty t-shirt Bear wore. “I don’t want you to leave me. I don’t think I could handle that again.”
Bear closed her eyes against the onslaught of emotion that slammed into her as she listened to his confessed words. “I fought to come back to you,” she told him softly. “I hope you know that, Jake. I thought about you the whole time they had me. I crawled into the memories of us while all of this,” she gestured up and down her body, “went on. I love you too much to let you go ever again.”
He chuckled, the sound wet but it was a chuckle nonetheless. “I know you love me. Those were the first words you said to me when you woke up, I never doubted that for a second.”
“Good.” Bear paused, taking the time to cradle his face in her hands, brushing her thumbs over his stubble-covered cheeks. When he leaned into her touch, she smiled, pressing a barely-there kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Because out of everything that happened, that is the most important thing. Not what happened to me. Not what that son of a bitch did. None of it. Just that we were finally ready to confess our love. Okay?” She held his gaze, eyes firm but glimmering with kindness and love for the man that had wrapped himself around her.
“Okay,” Jake finally replied, his voice hoarse and eyes so full of love that it was a miracle Bear was still standing. “But you have to admit darlin’, I did a damn fine job beatin’ him up.” His drawl was thicker now from the emotion waltzing through his head and heart, and Bear had never heard anything better.
She grinned, and it looked like a shark’s, all toothy and wide. “You did, Honey. You gave him the beating I wanted to give him but couldn’t.” Pressing a quick kiss to his nose, Bear’s smile softened considerably. “You are my… everything, Jake. Remember that.”
Jake took a shuddering breath, burying his face in her neck as he held her close. He had waited so long for a mere confirmation that the depth of Bear’s feelings matched his, and now? Now it felt like he could see the light through the darkness that had surrounded them both. He felt unstoppable, something he hadn’t felt since before he had met the woman in his arms. “God, I really can’t win, can I? I said I’d love you through it all, and here you are, promisin’ me your everythin’.”
Her answering words fell on his deafened ears as Jake just let himself savor the feeling of Bear in his arms. “You’re my everything too,” he mumbled into her shoulder.
“I know,” Bear murmured, running a hand up and down his back. “God forbid I ever forget that.”
Jake pulled back, catching the glimmer in her eyes as she watched him. His heart always beat like crazy when he was around her, so afraid of ruining this little piece of solitude for themselves. Right now? Now it was calm, knowing deep down, even if his brain didn’t, that Bear was just as much his as he was hers. Being around her now, being held by her, was a balm for a wound he didn’t know existed, a candle in darkness. Bear was his salvation. “I know you won’t. Because I never plan on being away from you long enough for you to forget.”
His words pulled Bear from the depths of her mind, forcing her to inhale sharply. She had been so worried for him, for how she had affected him, that she never stopped moving long enough to realize how much he had affected every piece of her. ‘Bewitched her body and soul’ as Jane Austen had once written, and heaven help the person that ever tried to break them apart. “Jake…” she breathed. “You smooth fucker.”
A boyish grin shot back in her direction made her shake her head. “Gotta keep you on your toes huh, Teddy?”
“Doesn’t mean you need to pull the rug out from under me everytime,” Bear shot back, rolling her eyes playfully.
“Well how else am I gonna justify this?” She looked confused until she found herself up in his arms, bridal style in a sudden swoop. “You’re a serious lady, Teddy. Someone’s gotta make sure you have fun sometimes.” His smirk set butterflies racing through her stomach and all Bear could do in that moment was smack his chest and laugh when he stumbled back in feigned pain.
“Tease,” she replied, laughing. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Hmm…” Jake pretended to think, as he carried her down the deserted halls. “Take me to bed and love me forever?”
Bear smacked him again, giggling. “Well considering that I am having trouble walking for longer than an hour, and we can forget about running, the first option isn’t really an option right now.”
“Shame,” Jake replied, lowering his voice to a near growl, the Southern drawl more prominent than it had ever been. It made him grin when he felt the shiver that raced down Bear’s spine, his chuckle sounding from deep within his chest. “Seems I have plans for later then.”
“Asshole,” Bear grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest, trying to will her blush away. “Why do I put up with you?”
Jake hummed. “Because I’m your everything and you love me?”
“Yeah. I did say that.”
===
Somehow, through the banter and teasing, Jake managed to carry her back down the halls to her room without being seen. Which was a feat in and of itself because Jake kept making Bear laugh, her giggles bouncing off the walls in a sharp turn around from how she had been feeling earlier that night. “Jake,” Bear whispered, eyes shining with mirth. “Just put me down.”
“Nope. Not until we are in your room.”
“Come on, someone could be coming around the corner at any time.” Bear was almost pleading, but it wasn’t in a bad way. She really just wanted to avoid more awkward questions from Bug about how Jake was affecting her. They had discussed at length Bear’s next steps while she was still recuperating in the medical bay, including talking through the email Bear would send to Admiral Harris informing him of her threat. He had merely replied with a meeting time, telling her that he wished to speak with her as soon as she was able. Bear wasn’t dumb enough to think it would be anything other than a recommendation that she take a leave from the Navy, maybe a session or two with a psychologist. The thought made her stomach lurch but that was for future Bear to deal with. Present Bear had to convince Jake to put her down. “Honey please.”
“Fine,” Jake grumbled, begrudgingly placing her feet back on the ground. But his hands shot out seconds later to catch her when Bear wobbled slightly. “I’m not judging if you need help, Teddy.”
“I know. But I need to learn to do this on my own. Those bastards won’t take my life away from me, Jake,” she told him, sending him a soft look. “But I appreciate you helping me.” She pushed her door open, motioning for him to follow her.
And he did. Because if there was any word to describe Jake near Bear, it was soft. Bear brought out a gentler side of him, which was strange, given how he’d nearly beaten a man to death for her, but that was besides the point. “It’s not a problem. You’d do the same for me.” Jake had flicked the light on after he’d shut the door, allowing him to see the room he had grown accustomed to over the last few weeks. “Besides, it means I get to spend more time with you.”
She smiled at him, tossing him the sweatpants he’d tucked under her bag the morning before, and laughing as they hit his chest and landed on the floor. “Come on Flyboy, you already have me. You don’t need to keep using the lines,” Bear teased, as she rifled around for her own pyjamas.
“But what if I like using the lines?” Jake tossed back, swiftly changing out of the uniform he’d been wearing for most of the day and into the sweats that now lay on the floor. “You blush such a pretty pink when I do.” He was shamelessly checking her out now as Bear stepped out of her basketball shorts and into her sleep shorts.
True to his words, Bear’s face was hot and a brilliant pink. “Shut it,” she grumbled, clearly embarrassed by her reaction. She had been struggling with her shirt for the last few weeks, finding it hard to lift her arms over her head. “A little help?” She asked, turning around to face Jake. “This fucking shirt is clinging to me.”
Jake grinned, stepping closer. “Well now, we can’t have that, can we? That’s my job.” He was teasing her again, unable to resist the joy it brought him to see her fumble over her words.
“Jerk.”
“You love me.”
“Unfortunately.” Bear was smiling at him again, her whole being seeming softer in the yellow light of the desk lamp Jake had turned on. “Now can you please help me with my shirt?”
His hands pulled her closer by her hips, before slowly slipping under the hem of her compression shirt. Jake took special care to guide her right arm out through the sleeve first before moving to the injured left side, pressing a gentle kiss to each shoulder as the material was removed. “You okay?” He asked, grabbing the oversized t-shirt that she slept in.
“I’m fine Jake,” Bear told him in exasperation. “I just want to sleep. My everything hurts.” Her eyes flickered over the furrow of Jake’s brow, before slowly lifting her tired arm up to smooth away the creases. “I promise I’d tell you if you hurt me.”
Standing before him half-clothed made her stomach swoop and Bear bit her lip as her shirt slipped over her head, gentle hands guiding it down her body. Jake’s touch left a trail of goosebumps in their wake and she shook her head at him, placing a hand on his bare chest to stop his movements. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Jake told her, resting his hand over hers. “I don’t think I've ever been better.” He leaned down, capturing her lips with his own, grinning against her lips.
Bear sighed into the kiss, eyes fluttering closed at the mere press of his mouth on hers. She nearly whimpered when he pulled back, chasing his lips to kiss him again. “It’s late,” she whispered. “Come on Flyboy.”
He followed her lead, letting her settle into the bed before slipping in after her, curling almost protectively around her as they lay facing one another. “You’ve got me stuck, Teddy. Ain’t never wanted to stay stuck on something ‘til I met you,” Jake mumbled, shuffling closer and pulling her to him. He’d rolled over at some point, letting Bear mold herself to his side as she rested her head on his broad chest, his hand combing through her loose hair absentmindedly.
“You sap.” Bear cuddled closer to Jake, reveling in the warmth that just radiated off of him. “But you’re lucky I love saps.”
Jake hummed low in his throat, grinning as he felt Bear smile at the vibration rippling under her ear. In the darkness of her room, Jake let himself mumble “I did get lucky. You gave me a second glance.”
And if he drifted off first, leaving Bear to swallow back the lump in her throat, she wouldn’t tell a soul. He loved her, and she loved him with a ferocity not unlike that in which she fought to return to him. “Of course I looked twice. I saw you,” Bear whispered into the darkness, sleep nipping at her heels and finally pulling her under its wake.
===
The next morning, Bear woke up with an arm slung over her waist, her back against something solid, and the feeling of someone breathing against the back of her neck. Her eyes had just blinked open, adjusting to the light in the room, and she shifted back, her head bonking into the one behind her. “Shit,” Bear whispered, turning slowly to face Jake. “God I hope I’m not hallucinating again. I can’t handle it if this isn’t real.”
“Hmmm?” Jake mumbled, pulling Bear closer and burying his head against her shoulder. “What time isssit?” In just a short breath, he’d dispelled every fear she’d had about waking up alone. Simply because she wasn’t alone, and Jake was here.
Bear grinned, running a hand through his blonde hair and messing it up even more as she watched his eyes flutter under her gesture. “Too damn early,” she whispered back.
“Then why’re you awake?”
“I don’t know.” Blame the Navy for making it so she could never sleep in, but if she woke up to this sight every morning, she’d gladly wake up early every morning. Jake’s hair was fluffy and askew, flattened on one side from the pillow, and standing on end on the other. It was enough to make Bear giggle quietly as she took in the sleepy smile he gave her as she continued to comb her fingers along his scalp, watching as he sunk deeper into the bed. “But I’m not mad about it.”
Fingers that had snuck up her shirt tightened their grip, pulling her even closer so their chests were pressed together. “Me…. Neither,” he yawned. Green eyes met brown and her heart soared at how a mere glance made it seem like everything was and would be okay. “You’re starin’, Teddy.”
“Can you blame me? You’re pretty in the morning.”
“Only in the mornin’?” His voice was a deep, rasping thing and it sent sparks racing through her blood. “Darlin’ don’t tease.”
“‘M not teasing,” Bear replied, a yawn nearly splitting her head in two.
“I think you are,” Jake shot back, a smirk wiping the sleepiness from his face. “You’re a real minx, Teddy, ya know that?” He’d rolled from his side to his back, chuckling at the gasp Bear let out at the position change now that she sat straddling his hips.
“Jake!”
“What? Always knew you’d be pretty from down here,” Jake continued, hands bracketing her hips, holding her still.
Bear was stuck in a state of shock at just how suddenly he’d moved her. How it had taken next to no effort for him to shift positions. “This fucking rib,” Bear thought angrily, “If it weren’t for this, we have have done something by now.” But she swallowed that thought and leaned down, bracing her hands on either side of his head. “Did you now? You think about that a lot, Flyboy?”
“Oh darlin’, if you only knew,” he answered honestly, watching the light flicker in her eyes that were oh so close. “There isn’t a day that goes by without me thinkin’ ‘bout you.”
Bear’s face went pink again. “Shut it.”
“Nope. And if I were a betting man, I’d wager that you do the same.”
“Confident, are we?” He was right, of course, but Jake didn’t need to know that.
He hummed in agreement, a hand leaving her hip to gently caress her cheek, pulling her down for a sweet kiss that had Bear sighing against his mouth. Everything about the kiss was lazy, no one fought for dominance, there was none. Just pure love filling both of them, slipping through their blood in a way that made two hearts sing as one. It was simple, and it was innocent, but it was just them. Just Bear and Jake savoring the moment of peace that they had.
Pulling back, Jake watched Bear’s eyes blink open, smiling at the brief haziness of them before she pressed another kiss to his mouth. “I heard what you said when you woke up, about hoping this wasn’t a dream.”
Her face fell, as the hazy memories of her hallucinations spun through her mind. The infection of her wounds had ravaged her body, creating delusions that included moments like this one, but those weren’t real. She’d woken up alone on the cold and dingy floor of a compound that was hundreds of miles from where Jake was with a sinking feeling in her chest.
This, however, couldn’t be more different. Jake was warm and solid under her, his calloused hand cupping her cheek and winding into her hair. She could feel the rise and fall of his bare chest under a hand that skated over the exposed skin. “You did?” She whispered, biting the inside of her cheek.
“I did.” Jake didn’t know what she had seen, what she had gone through, or what she had done to get back to him, but it didn’t matter to him. He was here and would continue to be there for her whether she chose to tell him what happened or not. “But,” he paused to press a kiss to her forehead, “I’m here. Ain’t leavin’ without a fight.”
Bear nodded, eyes welling up with tears at his silent understanding of her pain. “I know.”
“Come here, darlin’. I need to cuddle my girl.”
===
The only surprise that came while still in Riyadh was the announcement that Chip had confessed to working with Hazard. The man had come with her to save Jake, to bring him home, and he had betrayed them. Bear had been furious at Chip for not only throwing everything for his family away, but also for herself and Jake.
While he hadn’t been among her Lieutenants, she had still trusted the man. How could she not have? He had been loyal through everything, one of the few men who remembered their old CO and supported her in her bid to become the new Commander of Seal Team 3. It cut her deep, deeper than the still-healing gashes in her skin that would leave permanent reminders of the acts committed with stolen information. Permanent reminders of the betrayal that had rotted out the very soul of her team.
But worse still, was the news that Hazard had threatened Chip’s family, his wife and daughter, in order to gain his cooperation. He had been collateral damage, sought after only for his technical knowledge and then forced to keep silent lest Hazard alert the men that were supposedly watching his home and family.
All of it had hurt her.
While she was glad that some of the information had been deciphered and uncovered, Bear hated the results. It was all too much and she didn’t know how much more of it she could take.
If it weren’t for Jake beside her, Bear would have descended on Hazard herself and ripped him limb from limb, committing an action befalling her callsign to the highest degree. Bear would have killed him, but Jake was able to sway her with gentle words and promises that the violence unleashed would not help her healing, that it would only make her pain worse.
And god fucking damnit he was right. So Bear wrote and wrote, filling page after page with her angry thoughts before setting them alight and watching the ashes spiral away and be carried through the Arabian night air. In the end, Chip had tried to protect his family, but it had resulted in him betraying his team. The realization was stunning and Bear found herself hating Hazard for far more than just what he had done to her. She hated him for threatening a now guilty man’s family to get him to comply with their demands. Hated him for being able to pull the rug over her eyes so easily.
Bear hated that she hadn’t known about any of this.
But Jake. Sweet, gentle, compassionate Jake had stayed by her side the whole time, held and consoled her through her angry tears and listened quietly and patiently as she ranted and raved about how she should have known. He never once made her feel like she was to blame, refuting every claim of the sort that she dared try to make.
He put her back together over and over through nightmares and panic attacks and so gently too that Bear was always afraid that if she touched him, that he would disappear in a cloud of smoke. But he never did and she thanked him at every chance she got, returning the favor when his own nightmares threatened to steal her away in the dark of the night. Yet, just like Jake and his immovable love for her, Bear remained there, soothing his fears just as he had done with her own.
===
The days passed quickly. Bear was slowly gaining strength, only letting her weakness be seen by Jake, and refusing to even entertain the idea of taking back her position as team leader. What she had done, regardless if it was warranted or not, and she knew it was, her actions were enough to warrant removal from her position or possibly discharge from the Navy.
But that would be worked out later. For now, she and Jake were locked in yet another mindless conversation that they were both taking entirely too seriously for the subject matter. “No!” Jake yelled from the floor of the gym. “They are not the same bird!”
Bear just stared at him. “They look identical! Why can’t they be the same bird?” She was just saying these things to wind him up, and while that may not normally be the smartest thing to do, it was just too much fun to resist. “A dove is just a fancy pigeon.”
Jake groaned in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If they were the same, they’d have the same name! Just because one looks like the other doesn’t mean that-” he cut himself off, eyes narrowing at Bear, who was doing a terrible job at hiding her laughter. “You’re winding me up!”
“I’m sorry!” Bear wheezed out, having doubled over laughing after he’d called her out. “It’s too easy!”
Jake just shook his head, grinning. Bear was healing, laughing not causing her much pain anymore and the sight always made his heart swell. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“Mmm,” she hummed. “I am.”
“Now who’s the sap?”
“Still you.” Bear watched him approach, kissing her gently. “Still always going to be you.”
Jake nodded. “Fair enough. I was meaning to ask. What are we?”
“What do you mean?” Bear asked, head tilting to the side. She had been under the impression that they were dating. Ever since she’d woken up, Bear had been calling him her boyfriend in her head, but if he didn’t… No, they needed to talk about that before she spiraled. “I thought that we were dating.”
“And I thought we weren’t quite there yet because of your job and how you’re still technically my boss.”
She nodded, heart sinking a little at his words. “Did you not… want us to be…?”
“No! I mean, yes! I mean… Yes, I want us to be together. But I thought that we were waiting until we were stateside for that,” Jake explained, eyes wide in panic at the thought of Bear even coming up with the idea that he didn’t want her.
Bear visibly sagged in relief. “I was worried,” she admitted. “I hoped that we were thinking the same thing but I didn’t want to assume.”
“We are, Teddy. I promise.” And Jake meant every word of that promise. Bear was everything to him. “Why don’t we put a pin in defining this for now? We can talk about it when the logistics aren’t so complicated, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Good. God I love you, darlin’.”
“I love you too, Honey.”
===
Two days later, Bear was overseeing her team’s transit from Riyadh back to the Abraham Lincoln at Jebel Ali. She’d arrived first, relying on Bug back at the Air Base for her information and watched the Daggers land from her place in the ship’s bridge for the moment. Jake had hitched a ride in the same helicopter as her, and was down on the deck helping out Phoenix and Bob in securing their jet.
She watched his blonde hair get tossed around by the wind through the port and took a breath. “This would be a challenge,” she thought. “Getting through this journey home without being attached at the hip.” But if they had managed on the way here, they could manage on the way back. Of that, she was certain.
Only when all the Seals had landed and were disappearing below deck, Hazard being thrown in a special guarded area of the ship, did Bear leave the bridge, running smack into Jake amid the hustle and bustle. It was her first day back in her uniform since her capture and Jake couldn’t help but stare at how beautiful she looked. “I’d really like to kiss you,” he mumbled as he moved to step past her down the narrow hallway.
Bear grabbed his wrist, squeezing it lightly. “We can’t. I’m still your boss, Flyboy. Just a bit longer, and then we can give this a go, okay?”
He nodded, sending her a small smile before slipping off down the hallway to his quarters, leaving Bear to find her own.
God damn this would be a long trip home.
===
A/N: 🥹 I will admit that this was my face while writing this beast of a chapter. Bug, big thank you to @startrekfangirl2233 and @sarahsmi13s because I might have made one or two of them cry with this one. And I can’t forget @dakotakazansky for her help in ensuring that my underlying plot line is in place and still running strong.
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Taglist: @horseshoegirl @roosters-girl @lovinglyeternal @lavenderbradshaw @roosterforme @bobby-r2d2-floyd @bradleybeachbabe @footprintsinthesxnd @twsssmlmaa @fandomxpreferences @dempy @gizmodear @fighterpilothoe @chaoticassidy @eli2447 @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @djs8891 @rhirhikingston @sisterslytherinog @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak @sgt-barnesveins @taytaylala12 @urmom-999 @formulapierre @pinkpantheris @havlindzk @a-beaverhausen @killcomet @buxkybarnez @topgunruinedme @hangmanscoming @smoothdogsgirl @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby
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pinguwrites · 7 months
Text
Kinktober 2023 | Day Ten — William Killick + uniform kink, dirty talk
Pairing -> dom!william killick x wife!reader
Warnings -> smut (minors dni), dom!william, sub!reader, mention of military duty, use of good girl, sir kink, captain kink, william in his uniform>>>>>
KINKTOBER 2023 MLIST
Disclaimer: The Edge of Love characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.
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“I knew you liked it,” William said sweetly, resting his forehead against yours. He cupped your cheeks in his hand, caressing it with his fingers. “I can see the way you look at me when I wear it. All bothered-like. Just want a strong man to take care of you, hmm?”
You shuddered. William was right. You did like it when he wore his uniform, especially now that you were finally seeing him against after his deployment. How was it your fault he looked so damn good in it? It complimented his skin tone, it matched his dark brown hair almost perfectly, and it outlined his body, showing that he was strong and muscular and fit. When he wore it, it was like he commanded respect, and when you were by his side, it felt like no one could hurt you, that you were under protection, William’s protection. That you were his. 
“Yeah,” you admitted, trying not to get all flustered about it. If you didn’t downplay the situation you were sure you’d be in for nights of teasing. “It just, it looks nice on you. It’s a pretty colour.”
Images of fantasies you’ve had came up in your head. You tried to push them down, but you couldn’t stop thinking about them, especially now . . . William, holding you in his arms, shielding you from the dangers of the outside world. He would command you and dominante you, but in the loveliest ways — in a caring way. In a way that said he loved you. Sometimes he’d be on top, fucking you so good, but with his uniform on. He’d ask you — no, demand you call him ‘Captain’, and you would.  
William kissed you softly, his lips brushing up against yours. “I know it is. Is this what you want?” he asked.
“What?”
“Is this what you want?” he repeated. “To make love to you in this uniform?” His hands trailed up under your shirt, aiming to touch your breasts. “I can do that. Only if you want it.”
“Yes!” you immediately said, then averted your eyes, embarrassed at how eager you sounded. “William, I want it.”
“Darling,” he cooed. He picked you up in his arms, bridal style, and carried you to the bedroom, laying you gently on the mattress. “I’ll give it you. But first we need to lay some ground rules, okay?”
You looked up at him, curious, while he unbuckled his belt. What a wonderful sight.
“It’s not William anymore,” he said sternly. “You’ll call me Captain Killick. I deserve it, don’t I? For my wife to respect my position?”
“Yes, sir.” You could feel your body getting hotter, and the area between your legs wetter.
“You’ll be obedient, too. No brattiness,” he said, as he pulled his fat cock out, “no pleas or cries. Just ‘yes, sir’, ‘I’ll do anything to please you, sir’. I’ve served you all those years out there, fighting to keep my darling girl safe, and in return you’ll serve me. On your knees with your mouth, legs spread with your cunt — whatever I ask.”
Your response was filled with lust, “Yes, sir. Whatever you ask.”
“Good girl.” He gave you a proper kiss this time, a passionate one, with his tongue sweeping over your lips and pushing its way into your mouth. He let out a muffled groan, hiking up your skirt and pulling down your panties. 
“Get on your hands and knees for me,” he said in your ear. You hesitated. He had never taken you in that position before, but you obeyed nonetheless, waiting in anticipation.
“Ohh,” William moaned, pushing his cock into your wet pussy. He immediately started thrusting, hard and fast, without giving you a chance to adjust. 
“William!” you yelped, clutching onto the bed sheets for some stability.
He swiftly spanked your ass.
“C-captain Killick,” you corrected, little whimpers leaving your mouth. 
“Good girl. Ah, fuck — I can feel you clenching,” William said, his balls slapping against your skin, but you could also hear the sound of clothing shuffling. “Like it this much? Being—under my control? Dirty.”
You squirmed and tried to cover your wanton moans by placing your hand over your mouth, but William pinned your hands behind your back the moment he noticed what you were doing. “No, I want to hear your moans. Don’t hide them from me . . ."
He slowed his pace down and leaned over, his stomach touching your back. His thrusts were now more stiffer, and rough, pushing his way deep inside you. “Need to do this more often. Getting you so wet . . . I’ve missed you, it’s been so long since I’ve been inside of a woman.”
He cupped your bouncing breasts, pinching your nipples, eliciting a squeak out of you. “My darling wife. I love you . . . Now, stop squirming," he chastised, "and let me fuck you good."
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Taglist:
@rainyforest777
@thatwitchybitch420 
@madeinuk
@gentyleman
@henrywintersdearestgirl
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britany1997 · 1 month
Text
Cat and Mouse
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Hope y’all love this! Comment to be added to my Spike Taglist:)
Spike x fem reader slayer
Warnings: SMUT minors DNI, predator x prey (sort of), roleplay, lotsssss of foreplay and a little bit of smut, cunnilingus, biting (duh), blood drinking (also duh), I think that’s it
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You ran through the depths of Spike’s cave, desperately searching for a way out.
The tunnels seemed to wind on forever, and every turn seemed to lead you to a dead end. You feared it was only a matter of time before you met your own end.
As you raced down another tunnel, fear crept into your heart when you found yet another cold cave wall. A whispered “no” fizzled from your lips.
“Bad luck pet,” you tensed as a familiar voice purred from behind you.
In a flash, your back was pressed into the wall, held in place by the forearm of the most despicable vampire you knew, Spike.
You scowled down at him, your eyes full of ire.
Spike returned your scowl with a smirk. He leaned in to whisper in your ear. “I will know your blood, Slayer. I will make your neck my chalice... and drink deep.”
Your hateful expression melted to one of amusement.
“Did you script this?”
He glared at you, “you’re not supposed to break character.”
That was a yes.
The corner of your lip pulled up slightly, but you suppressed it before you could smile. Spike had obviously put a lot of thought into your little game, you’d hate to ruin it for him.
“In your dreams bloodsucker,” you bit back, pushing Spike off of you and into the cave wall across from you.
His smile was catlike as he brushed rubble off his clothes.
“Yes pet, exactly.” He grabbed your hand and yanked you towards him, “now tell me, do you dream of me too?”
You threw him off you, pulling your stake from its holster. “I dream of the day I can drive this through your hollow chest.”
He mock pouted. “You wound me love, who’ll you play with when I’m a pile of dust?”
You scoffed, moving forward to press the point of the stake into his chest, “vamps like you are a dime a dozen.”
“You’re half right pet,” he smirked, “Sunnydale may be overrun with vampires…”
In a flash he grabbed your wrist, wrestling the stake to the ground and maneuvering you against his chest, “…but there’s no one quite like me.”
Your thighs clenched as he slowly licked along your neck.
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Spike had carried you out from his tunnel network, and into the bedroom area of his cave.
He threw you onto the bed before crawling over you, “your mine slayer,” he said as his lips moved to capture yours.
“Wait.”
He groaned, “what??”
Your eyes narrowed. “You catch me, ‘the super powerful, only slayer in all the world…’”
He nodded.
You pursed your lips, moving off the bed to think.
“That kinda makes it seem like you win.”
You could have sworn if he had any blood it would have rushed to his cheeks.
“Win?” He asked, laughing nervously. “You must be- no. Win? What?”
You crossed your arms.
He sighed, “can you just get on the bed.”
“Mhmm,” your finger reached out to caress his chin. “Since you’re the big, bad, strong vampire that defeats me, shouldn’t you be able to…you know, take me?”
He groaned, “believe me love I am trying.”
You giggled, “you know that’s not what I meant.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. You cleared your throat to suppress your laughing.
He looked up, “can’t you win next time?”
You smiled, “ok Spikey.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled as he picked you up and spun you around, making soft giggles fall from your lips.
“Oh no! The evil vampire has captured me again! Whatever shall I do now?” You threw your arm over your forehead dramatically.
He rolled his eyes, but smiled. “No stakes left, no friends around to save you slayer?”
You raised an eyebrow, “hmm guess I’ll have to resort to your methods,” you sunk your teeth into the skin of his neck.
“Oh fuck love.” he moaned, gripping your hair and pulling gently.
You sucked the skin of his neck between your teeth. God you hoped vampires could still bruise.
The hand not currently tangled in your hair slid to your waist, pulling you closer and squeezing.
When you finally pulled away, Spike’s eyes were practically all black. He was dripping with desire.
“My turn,” he pushed you back, pressing you into the mattress and letting his teeth sink into the familiar spot where your shoulder met your neck.
You let out a breathy mew and wrapped your legs around his waist as he drank.
“Mmm slayer,” he purred into your shoulder, “you’re too sweet to drink dry…I’d rather keep you instead.”
You bit your lip and rolled your hips, grinding against him. “What are you going to do with me?” You forced a scared look onto your face.
He lifted his head from your neck to peer down at you, “what I always do pet…” he paused, “make you scream.”
You couldn’t help it. You crashed your lips into his in a searing kiss. “Well then hurry up already,” you teased.
He smirked as he tore your clothes off, prompting a gasp to fall from your lips. “So impatient,” he teased back.
He tossed the remains of your clothes to the side and kneeled between your legs.
“You’ve got the prettiest cunt love,” he sighed wistfully.
Your ran your fingers through his hair, before pulling him in closer with a bit of slayer strength. “Yeah? Bet it tastes even better.”
His hand snaked around your leg as he leaned in to nip at your thigh. “Mmm I bet it does.”
He gently parted your legs further. He pressed soft kisses to each thigh, before leaning in to kiss your lower stomach.
You whimpered, desperate for more. “Enough teasing,” you grit through your teeth.
He chuckled as he moved to lick softly at your clit. As you did your hands threaded through his hair once more.
Spike, encouraged by your response, sealed his lips around your clit and began to suck. His eyes fluttering closed as he felt your thighs shake around his head.
Spike’s hands came up to hold your hips, and squeezed as he licked and sucked.
When you felt yourself getting close to the edge, his tongue licked a stripe upwards before laving at your clit, desperate to make feel you release into his mouth.
You screamed his name as you coated his face, causing him to moan in approval.
He left soft kisses on your thighs as he licked them clean, before crawling into bed beside you.
You hummed as he wrapped himself around you from behind, his head fitting into the crook of your neck. “You were right,”
“Right about what?” he asked as he planted a kiss on your cheek.
“There’s no one quite like you,” you turned to beam up at him.
He smiled back at you, stroking your cheek. Then his gaze turned sinister. “Just wait until round two slayer.”
You smirked. Your night had just begun.
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Note: yes that’s an actual Buffy quote about him making reader’s neck his chalice lmao
Spike Taglist🦇:
@sad-ghost-of-garbage @6lostgirl6 @misslavenderlady @bloodywickedvamp @crustyboypix @dwaynesluscioushair @lostboys1987girl @anna1306 @arbesa-mind @ria-coolgirl @the-glitter-wizard
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8aji · 1 year
Text
too busy saving everybody else to save yourself. // s.s.
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to think of a life without him filled you up with such sorrow you thought you'd let yourself drown just to be with him one last time. — or, an account of the events that transpired after the night of august 14, 2003.
pairing. shinichiro sano x baji!reader
wc. 18k
tags/cw. MDNI, angst with happy ending, fluff, hurt/comfort, best friends to lovers, baji!reader (reader is baji’s sibling), manga spoilers, shinichiro lives, anxiety/panic attacks, smoking, mentions of death, characters cry a lot, mentions of head trauma + hospitals + needles + blood, reader gets called 'nee-chan' a couple of times but other than that its pretty gn, very suggestive (one make/out sesh), takeomi is clowned a lot + please let me know if i missed anything!
a/n. its finally done sob i spent so much time polishing this as much as i could and what was supposed to be a 1k drabble mutated into this lmfao but all in all this fic is my baby, my child, and i love it so so much i just hope y'all will like it as much as i do !! a massive thanks to @tetsutits for betaing and to @mosviqu for letting me run the storyline through her !! hope all of u enjoy lots n lots !!
m.list ˖ tags ˖ byi/dni
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One step, one blink, one breath, one step, one blink, one breath; like on autopilot, the pattern repeated itself over and over again. You could feel it beating inside your skull; the pounding of your heart resonated throughout your body, acting as the fuel behind your every move. 
Your blurry gaze amplified all of your other senses, sending your brain into a downward spiral of emotional overwhelm; the loud keyboard clicking, the obnoxious chatter, the drinking and munching of coffee and donuts, all of it made you want to tear your ears off. How could the world keep turning, people existing like normal, while you were being consumed by the tightness enveloping your lungs? The thought made you want to light up the whole building, watch it burn as the flames simmered the concrete to ashes to relieve the turmoil brewing inside your body. 
“I'm coming for Baji Keisuke?” You asked, barely managing to string the words together in a coherent sentence, head going a thousand miles per hour. “He’s my brother.”
The officer behind the desk pulled down his magazine, looking you over and taking in your dishevelled state. “Ah,” he sighed as soon as your brother's profile appeared on his screen. “Baji Keisuke, the little rascal with the breaking and entering charges, huh?”
lips forming into a thin line, you nodded, biting your tongue so as to not insult the man in front of you who, for some reason, couldn't help but chuckle, as if a twelve year-old kid being detained was funny. 
“Can I see him?”
He gave you one last obnoxious glance, before typing on his computer.
“He’s currently under police custody,” he explained condescendingly as if you didn’t know, pulling a manila folder and pressing the button on the printer, handing you a pen in the meantime. “He's only got a minor charge compared to the other brat he came in here with,” He let out a quiet cackle, not wanting to attract anyone else’s attention. To you, it was like he acted this nonchalant to rile you up, make your blood boil. And, in spite of your reluctance to admit to it, it was working. Being in his presence made you want to punch him. “We’re betting on whether the other kid’s gonna get charged with manslaughter or not.
“And just between us,” he made a come hither motion, but leaned forward on his chair at your lack of reaction. “I’m betting in favor of manslaughter, so I'm crossing my fingers for the guy to die soon, ‘ya know?”
Had you been wearing long sleeves, he would’ve been able to see you rolling them up, emotionally prepared to be charged with aggravated assault against a police officer
Fortunately, another officer called out your name, catching your attention before you could act on the violent scenarios coursing through your brain. You didn’t bother excusing yourself before leaving to find your brother.
He looked small, smaller than he actually was, as he sat on the floor with both his knees close to his chest. His eyes were puffy and red, it was obvious he had been crying; though by the looks of it, he had yet to stop.
The cell door sounded like nails against a chalkboard as it scraped against the floor. It made him flinch in surprise, snapping him out of the borderline-dissociating trance as he looked up at the intimidating officer, trying to gauge his intentions while gathering all the energy he had left in his body to fight off the man just in case he needed to. But as soon as he made eye contact with you he could feel himself lowering his guard. 
He didn’t even hesitate, his body moved on his own, running past the officer and straight into your arms, letting the harsh sobs he had tried bottling up rack his body, along with muffled apologies and incoherent explanations.
“It's okay,” you mumbled against his hair, trying to calm down his heart wrenching cries. He nuzzled his face against your neck, trying to get impossibly closer to the sound of your voice. You waited for him to nod, still clutching at your clothes with all the remaining energy he had. “He's strong, he’ll be alright.”
Though at this point you were unsure whether your words held any weight against the grand scheme of things; hopefully all your promises won’t turn into bold-faced lies.
You made your way out of the cell together, holding his left hand as he used the other to rub at his eyes, itchy and dry from all the crying. The two of you walked past a couple of cells before he stopped for what seemed like a millisecond, mumbling something under his breath in weak anguish. Had you not been hyper aware of everything going on around you, you wouldn’t have noticed the slight tug at your hand.
Kazutora sat on the floor the same way Keisuke did, knees pulled up to his chest, biting his cuticles raw to stop his brain from looping the traumatic set of events like a broken film; still, it wasn't enough to stop his whole body from trembling in shock. The distress fresh in his eyes made you want to drop everything just to hold him close, comfort him like you did with Keisuke. 
But you didn’t have much time, the officer behind you pressured the both of you to move, and considering Keisuke remained under police custody, you weren’t willing to risk him getting locked up again now that you had him by your side.
“Wait for me over there, okay?” You said, pointing at the waiting area. “I just have to fill out some paperwork and then we can go home.” He held your hand even tighter in his grasp in response, as if he was scared to let go. “I’ll be quick, promise.”
Reluctantly, he dragged his feet as he walked, not wanting to stray far away from you. At least there was still some sort of stubbornness left in him. You’ve never seen him act like this, uncontrollably crying and apologising, devoid of the mischievous glint in his eyes. Knowing the Keisuke you knew was still there comforted you.
“How, uh, how much is bail gonna be?” You asked once he had made himself at home on the plastic chairs. Thankfully it was someone else behind the desk instead of the asshole you had the misery of interacting with. 
You knew it wasn’t going to be cheap, already having a grasp of fines and bail costs thanks to your friends getting into trouble, but even with this knowledge, their response sent a shiver down your spine.
Maybe you could use some of your own savings, or part of your college fund. Using your mom’s money was also an option, but you didn't want to put the burden on her. If you skipped a semester it could give you some time to earn the money back, but you were already behind in a few classes, and the minimum wage from part time jobs wouldn’t stack up too much, so was it truly feasible?
Fuck, you knew they were children but you couldn’t help but curse at their recklessness, their stupidity and naivety. Did they actually think stealing a bike would be that easy? And now you have to pay for the consequences, quite literally. Of course, you could always leave him here, let him face the consequences straight on. There was nothing forcing you to bail him out. But who were you kidding, you’d kill for him, of course you were going to pay.
Making sure he was still where you left him, you looked over your shoulder back at him. He was slumped over his knees, aimlessly playing with his fingers as his eyes fixated on the corridor leading to the cells, a solemn sadness washing over his features. 
No. 
You weren’t going to. You were going to pay for your brother’s sins, or whatever the cheesy line says, and leave to never look back. You didn’t owe this other kid anything, most certainly when you couldn't afford it. But, after knowing him for so long, the thought of him staying in the middle of four cold walls until further notice broke your heart.
“Actually,” you sighed. This was gonna cost two semesters instead of one. “Could I pay for someone else’s bail as well?”
At first, he refused to acknowledge your presence, biting harder into his fingers. He tried self-soothing through slow back and forth rocking motions and the unintelligible words that spilled from his mouth, hugging himself tighter the closer you got. 
He didn’t move, frozen in place as if the lack of movement would make him invincible to the naked eye. He didn’t cave in no matter what you did, not when you kneeled in front of him nor when you whispered his name in hopes he would acknowledge your voice.
It only took a couple of seconds after that for him to shyly meet your gaze, warming up to you in an instant and clinging onto you just like Keisuke had done, though he did so with a lot more desperation, this sort of comfort foreign to Kazutora. He felt so small in your embrace, burying his face in your shoulder, the only thing he could do was claw at your body for reassurance. Other than that, he didn’t speak, didn’t cry, he almost didn’t move, to the point it had you questioning whether he was actually breathing. 
Once you coaxed him out of the cell and got a hold of your brother, your sole focus was on guiding the boys beside you out of the precinct as fast as possible, one hand holding Keisuke’s while the other rested on the back of Kazutora’s head. They didn’t need to spend more time than necessary in this place, surrounded by grimy cell blocks and seemingly socially inept officers who couldn’t keep their rambunctious laughter down.
Wakasa was sitting on his bike outside the police station waiting for the three of you, and though initially it was supposed to be just the two of you riding along with him, he wasn’t surprised you paid for your brother’s friend’s bail. He kept a fairly laid-back exterior, lit cigarette hanging from his fingers replacing his preferred strawberry flavored lollipops, inhaling back the smoke that seeped from his parted lips and freaking out on the inside.
The two of you were hanging out when multiple calls blasted through your phone, prompting you to rush to where you were now. First it was one from the hospital, one of the bearers of bad news that didn’t let you dwell on the fact that Shinichiro had written you down as one of his emergency contacts. Then came the call from the police station, sinking your heart down to the bottomless pit in your stomach.
“Everything alright?” He asked, putting out his cigarette, smothering the stick with his boot along with the other three he had finished while you were inside. 
You hummed in response, words dying in your throat. The silence around you itched and burned, made your skin prickle with discomfort, and even so, no one dared say anything besides the occasional noise of acknowledgement. They weren’t dumb. They were one-hundred percent aware of what they were doing, and this wasn’t something you could blame on their age either. Yes, they were kids, but a twelve year old should be able to discern right from wrong; aware that stealing is bad and that murdering people is wrong.
And deep down, you knew this was even more fucked up than it appeared to be. You knew Kazutora wouldn’t have cared for the victim had it not been Shinichiro. The only reason he was shaking like a leaf, flinching when Wakasa fastened the belt of his helmet against his head, was because he hurt Mikey’s brother. That’s not to say Keisuke was innocent, it was clear he wasn’t. Intentionally breaking into someone’s shop to steal a very valuable, very expensive, piece of equipment and potentially complicit in someone's murder. 
You wanted to tear your eyes off at the thought. Did they really think they could get away with this? That it would be as easy as stealing some candy or gum from the corner store? You wanted to curse them out for being so stupid, so naive. But looking down at their sunken faces, eyes bloodshot and teary as they sweated fear from every pore on their fragile skin, it made you want to excuse all their horrid behaviour, ignore the fact they committed a crime and in the process they mortally wounded an innocent man. 
You held down an involuntary gag at the violation of your principals, the memory of what had just gone down stirring unwanted bitterness inside your stomach. You were no one to criticise the two kids sitting between Wakasa and you. They could be stupid, but you were the weakest of them all.
“Let’s get going then.”
You could question your moral compass later, first you had to get them home.
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The voices of the characters talking in the background faded into an uncomfortable white noise as your muscles dissolved along with your bones, breaking through your skin and seeping into the cushions of the couch. Each time you breathed in the more stressed you became at the uncertainty of your friend’s mortal status. 
You hadn’t received any news from the hospital, and though you knew that if they hadn’t called by now, they probably wouldn’t at least until tomorrow morning, that didn’t stop you from imprisoning your phone close to your chest. Maybe if you channelled all your strength into your hold then you’d lose the urge to cry.
In spite of their initial resistance, it didn’t take long to put the kids to bed. The two of them drifted off to a bitter, yet hopefully replenishing, sleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow. It wasn’t surprising, the whole incident had drained the both of them to their core.
“‘Sure you’re okay?” Wakasa asked, and had it not been for his voice you're sure you would’ve dissociated the rest of the night. Maybe the kids would find you the next morning still sitting on the couch, frozen like a statue as you stared at the ceiling, and freak out because they’d think you had died along with ‘Shinichiro-nii’. 
You hummed, it was the only response you could muster it seemed, with your eyes zeroing in on his shoulders, then his cheeks and then his earrings. Looking straight into his eyes would do you no good. It’d blow your cover in less than an instant, and though it’s fair to say it was a shit cover, amplifying your grief through your dejected silence instead of toning it down, it made you feel safer from the imminent doom. Still, shitty cover up or not, Wakasa knew you weren’t okay. You wouldn’t be able to fool him even if he was stupid, and at this point, he’s convinced you wouldn’t be able to fool anyone; a single glance your way was enough to tell you were silently crumbling. 
He let his head fall backwards against the back of the sofa, sighing in acknowledgement. No matter how many times he asked, deep down he knew you would only cave in at your own account, But at least his question somehow managed to bring you back down from the maze your brain had started fabricating to earth. And maybe, just maybe, if he gave you enough space that’d prompt you to speak. He didn’t mind waiting. Not for a couple of seconds, or the couple of minutes those seconds turned into, or the couple of hours they mutated into next, and so on until days and weeks and years had passed, until the scarcity of time felt infinite.
“He’s dead, isn’t he?” You broke the silence, biting the edges of your words as if you wanted to hide them back inside, voice shaky and heavy against your tongue. 
He hesitated, sharing a seat next to you inside the same sinking uncertainty boat, “Shin-chan’s stronger than you think.” He tried reassuring you, or himself he wasn't sure, but at this point the more he tried to tell himself his friend was still breathing, the more it felt like a lie. Shin-chan was stronger than the two of you thought, but was he really? “He’d be heartbroken to know you had little faith in him.”
At least he got you to chuckle, “I’d be heartbroken to know that I was right.”
You fell into an uncomfortable silence not long after, the stakes of the conversation too high, and if you continued talking you’re sure you’d end up giving Shin up for dead. But like this, maybe you could finally force yourself to get some sleep. The weight of your eyelids had doubled, eyes growing heavier against your will, and though you didn’t want to, just in case something happened while you were unconscious, you knew you’d be of no use without at least a few hours of rest. Plus, you promised yourself you’d never lose any sleep over a guy, ever, and you weren’t about to make an exception for Shinichiro Sano.
Not even an hour in your slumber, you almost threw your phone to the other side of the room as its desperate cry pierced your ears. You’re sure Wakasa almost had a heart attack with how fast straightened up next to you, and it wouldn’t be a surprise if it somehow managed to wake up both Kazutora and Keisuke, although your brother was more of a chronic heavy sleeper.
“What are you waiting for? Answer it!” Feelings heightened in his barely awake, panicked state, the desperation was palpable in his words. And though uncommon for him to act in such an erratic manner, he had bottled everything up the whole night, it was time for the stoic facade to break. 
But, even so, in spite of your friend’s heartbreaking desperation you didn’t move. Not after the third ring or the fourth. You didn’t dare move, staying frozen on the couch, groggy from waking up yet hyper-aware of everything going on around you despite your mild dissociation. The sole thought of moving towards made your brain press against your skull, screaming at you to stop. 
Not answering meant that Shinichiro could stay both simultaneously alive and dead, his fate linked to whether you picked up the call. If you didn’t, maybe he wouldn’t die after all, he’d stay stuck in the unknown limbo of immortality until you made a call. 
But then again, this was your only chance to get an update on his status. And it wasn’t only you anxiously waiting on any sort of news. Wakasa was waiting; Keisuke and Kazutora, although asleep, were as well, and you could only fathom Benkei and Takeomi’s reaction. Mikey and Emma were probably up to date, the hospital must’ve called their grandfather before they reached out to you. And looking back at the people that depended on you, it really wasn't fair to put your own self-indulgent selfishness over the needs of others, was it?
It wasn't. Of course it wasn’t, but after putting everyone before you for as long as you’ve lived, didn’t you deserve to be selfish? At least once, when it pertainted the condition of the unrequited love of your life, didn’t you deserve at least that much?
“Hello?” Wakasa answered through furrowed brows and twitching lips. From the way he spoke, you could tell he was biting on the inside of his cheek to release some tension, putting enough pressure to draw blood. “This is Wakasa Imaushi speaking,
“–can’t get to the phone right now, can’t you just talk to me?” Voice getting progressively louder, he challenged the person on the other side of the call. “He’s my best friend, don’t I deserve to know whether he’s alive or not?!”
Only when his voice broke at the weight of his own desperation did you manage to snap out of your trance, snatching the phone out of his grip, ignoring his glassy eyes as you spoke into the receiver, mumbling your name through a shakily put together voice.
You’re not sure whether you imagined it or not, almost choking on a withered sob, but you could feel the moment your teeth sunk into the skin of your hand, digging hard enough for blood to prickle to the surface, preventing any other noise from coming out. 
With your vision blurry and a tightness in your chest you could not describe, your body had gone completely numb, and yet your nerve endings were scorching under any semblance of atmospheric pressure, forcing you to feel everything, everywhere, all at once.
Had Wakasa not been there to catch you, you’d have collapsed on the ground, a pitiful wailing mess. Tears soaked through the fabric of both your clothes as you held each other close. For what felt like hours, the two of you stayed like that. Face buried against his neck and his against the top of your head, he rocked you back and forth in his arms until your tears stopped mixing themselves with your spit, sharp inhales tuning down into soft sniffles. And though his eyes burned with unshed sorrow, he kept on humming at your unintelligible mumbling.
“See? I told you he was stronger than we thought.” He whispered, though it sounded closer to a whimper, and nuzzled his cheek further against your hair. As if trying to ground himself, he gave you a tight squeeze, still in doubt whether he was trying to convince you or himself. 
Only after a while, once both of your breathing had evened out, did you raise your head up from its hideout, hesitant footsteps catching your attention.
“Nee-chan?” You heard a tiny voice coming from the hallway, a little insecure, as if he didn’t think he deserved a proper response. 
“I’m sorry ‘Tora, did we wake you?” You peeled Wakasa’s arms from your body, rubbing the haziness of your eyes away. He shook his head in response, carefully moving away from the shadows after acknowledging your lack of anger.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
His puffy eyes shimmered red under the soft moonlight coming through the living room window. He took meticulous steps in your direction, side-eyeing Wakasa and still wary of you, not knowing how you would react after his intrusion. Each one was lighter than the other, the wooden floors refused to creek underneath his weight, almost as if he had trained himself to become weightlessly invisible.
Slowly as to not startle him, you stretched your arms in his direction, beckoning him towards you and silently encouraging him to trust you. Even after drying out his tears once you tucked him in bed, holding his hand a little longer while Keisuke slept next to him, you’re sure that wasn’t enough to reassure him you wouldn’t blow up on him. For Kazutora, interacting with most people felt like trying to navigate an active minefield.
Hugging him close to your body, you pulled him on your lap and softly rocked him back and forth; the same way Wakasa had done with you. He nuzzled closer to you, letting himself relax against your touch once he registered you weren't a threat, basking in your warmth. 
The silence the three of you fell under was deafening, uncomfortable even, though you didn't intend for it to be. Kazutora had this question stuck in his throat, sitting heavy against his vocal cords while the bitter taste of bile stained his tongue.
“Is…” he trailed off, still doubting whether he deserved to be asking such a question. “Is Mikey’s brother going to be okay?”
He tensed up at the lack of immediate response. The lack of positive reassurance that he hadn’t completely messed up everyone's lives made the grip he had on your arm grow tighter in fear of you letting go. 
You didn’t. You weren’t planning to do so. Even if nausea piled up at the end of your oesophagus as the conflicting set of emotions brewing at the pit of your stomach, you were sure he needed you as much as you needed him to keep yourself grounded 
“He will.” You brushed your fingers through his hair, lips curled up into a smile once you felt him relax against you once again. “Right now he’s resting, we can visit him in a couple of days, if you’d like.” 
The silence amongst you became heavy once again, but inside Kazutora’s head the cacophony of your words bounced against the thick layers of bone and skin like worthless cries of distress. What he did was inconceivable, and in spite of that you still cared.
“I didn’t mean to,” barely a whisper, the words died out before they could be properly enunciated. They prickled and ached and stung at the walls of his throat. Something he couldn’t name but feel deeply inside his bones stopped himself from vomiting it all out. But mess after mess, like building blocks stacking one on top of the other, they piled up and pulled him down like a ball and chain made out of his own flesh and when he tried to pull at it to set himself free he could feel everything spilling out in a tangled cry. “I didn’t mean to hurt him, I’m sorry!” he cried, clutching onto your shirt and arms, anything he could get a hold of to ensure you wouldn’t leave him alone. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
Holding him tightly and shushing his cries, you could do nothing more than let his tears wet at your shirt, mumble that it was okay even if it truly wasn’t; even if the two of you knew it was a lie. The weeping child in your arms did nothing but pull at your heartstring, conflicting feelings arising in your chest. In spite of the fondness you felt for the kid, the same fondness you felt for all of your little brother’s friends, you had unconsciously developed a grudge towards him, bitterness and resentment for hurting Shinichiro. 
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His lashes rested against his skin, casting thin shadows under the sunlight streaming through the window. He had always looked peaceful when he was sleeping, chest rising and falling as if following a metronome’s tempo. You can remember taking long summer naps next to him and the rest of your friends, you always being the first one to wake up. Every summer the three of them arrived late to at least five Black Dragon’s meetings because they had slept in. Shinichiro had developed this antsy habit of arriving weirdly on time yet slightly late ever since then, he couldn’t tolerate the idea of letting down whoever was waiting for him; you wonder how he’d react if he knew the shop wouldn’t open today.
So peaceful yet fragile., never in your life would’ve you remotely imagined you’d be sitting next to your best friend’s hospital bed, eyes puffy and droopy while his head laid covered in bandages. The beeping of the monitor filling up the unnecessary silence that wouldn’t have otherwise been there had he been awake. 
Had he been awake, he would’ve talked to you non-stop, retelling everything that went down to the most insignificant detail, sprinkling hyperboles as much as he could just to appear a little cooler in front of you. But it's not like he had to try anyway, to appear cooler, that is, you already thought he was the coolest person in the whole wide world; though you’d go as far as saying he was the coolest person to ever exist. The sole idea made you smile, tears welling up in your eyes as you wondered if he’d blush once he found out how highly you thought of him. 
And of course, had he been awake, he would’ve been worried about everyone but him. He would’ve asked about Mikey and Emma, if they had slept over at the hospital or at home with his grandfather, who he would’ve proceeded to ask about. He would’ve bitten his tongue to prevent himself from even mentioning the economic implications of his stay, but you would’ve been able to read right through him.
Then, had he been awake, he would’ve asked about Keisuke and Kazutora. He would’ve be worried about them, berated you with a flurry of questions, emotions switching from anger to guilt in less than a millisecond; angry at your deplorable encounter with the police, guilty because he was the one that called, and maybe if he hadn’t, then Mikey’s friends wouldn't have gotten in trouble.
He would’ve asked about the shop, if anyone was there watching over it while he was resting in the hospital, deflating a little after finding out it wouldn’t open for the day. He would’ve asked about Wakasa and Benkei and Takeomi, ask if they were aware of what happened, if they had already started making fun of him after finding out a twelve year-old sent him straight to the ER; he would’ve sighed at your response, shaking his head because instead of making fun of him his friends were worried. 
Finally, he’d ask about you. And maybe you would’ve cried or laughed or screamed. Maybe tears would’ve pooled in your eyes, the fact your friend was breathing finally sinking in. Maybe you would’ve giggled at your past unjustified worries because he was here now and you never should’ve doubted him, not even for a second. Maybe you would’ve broken down, fatigue deep in your bones pulling you to the ground until you could do nothing but lay cold and empty and happy on the floor because you had not dared sleep but at least the existence of his consciousness remained.
But the only one speaking was the wind blowing through the curtains, kissing his forehead and messing up his hair just to give you the opportunity to put it back in place through the insecure brush of your fingers
Resting your forehead next to the palm of his hand, you sighed in defeat; maybe you should’ve let him rest alone. You had spent the whole morning next to him, ignoring any hunger cues alerting you it was time for breakfast or lunch or any sort of meal time that could fuel your body from complete exhaustion. Still, even if you wanted to fall asleep, it was like your subconscious wouldn’t let you. Every time you closed your eyes and felt yourself slip into a deep slumber, you were jolted awake to your own dismay. 
Not being able to rest had started to eat away at your own sanity. Only eight hours had passed, but every second felt like a thousand and at this point, you had become a walking contradiction; hungry but unable to eat, tired yet unable to fall asleep. Your body was failing you, unable to react to any sort of external or internal stimuli, and you’re sure wouldn't be able to cry no matter how much you wanted to do so.
But even then, apparently you could still scream.
The weight of his hand on top of your head caught you off guard. It almost made you fall from the chair and smack your head against the bed’s metal skeleton. Maybe if you got a concussion and slipped into a weird pseudo-coma after a harrowing God-knows-how-many-hours-long surgery he’d feel guilty enough to make up for the tachycardia that had your heart beating where your brain should be.
“Hi.” He smiled, words a little slurred as the remaining anaesthesia wore off.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Oh, I see ‘you missed me alright.”
And you did. Even though less than a day had passed since the accident, picturing a whole lifetime without him was enough to permanently alter your brain chemistry. But he was here now, he was back and he was safe and the toothy grin he sported reminded you of home.
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“Don’t ‘cha know it’s rude to eat in front of someone who can only chew on ice chips?” He joked, flinching as the nurse adjusted his IV drip.
You were forced to leave the room after a flurry of hospital staff came running at your volatile reaction; Of course, you were quick to reassure that your friend had only woken up and that everything was fine, before leaving for the cafeteria; giving them some space to work on Shinichiro would be good. Plus, not that he was ‘okay’ and you weren’t worrying about his health every second of every minute of every hour, you could address the sudden pangs of hunger poking at your stomach. 
“I’ll buy you dinner once you get out.” You smiled, scooping some of the jell-o into your mouth through your innocent smile. But, again to your dismay, the mischievous glint in your eyes ratted you out. Shinichiro knew that ‘dinner’ meant the cheapest ramen you could find, maybe add an egg to spice it up, and ice cream you’d eat directly from the tub; a long lived tradition between the two of you. “I’ll even add chives this time.”
“Gee thanks,” he mocked, as if he’d rather do anything else than eat stale ramen with you. As long as he got the chance, he’d do anything. He’d probably lick the floor for you—not that he’d ever let you know, but if you asked he would, no questions asked. That’s what happens when you love someone. You’d be willing to do anything and everything for them even if it's irrational. “Can I choose the ice cream flavour at least?”
You hummed, focusing on scraping the plastic spoon against the plastic container in your hands to avoid his gaze. “Only this time though, so don’t get used to it.”
“Everything’s looking good so far, we’ll do another check up in a couple of hours.” 
Right, you were still in here. Talking like everything was seemingly normal made you forget that you were still in the hospital, watching over your post-op, bedridden friend. 
“Lay with me?” he asked, not before the both of you thanked the nurse who excused himself after gathering the remaining equipment. “Please?”
You shouldn’t, something inside your head made sure to let you know even if the urge to hold him close was overpowering. He had just barely woken up after a long emergency surgery, and you taking up space would be of no help for him to get the rest he needed. But the silent plea in the puppy dog eyes you had trained yourself so hard to resist, the subtle pout and the cute dopey-ness that had yet to wear off were far too tempting to resist. 
His little celebratory cheer made you inwardly squeal as you slowly moved to his side, watching him wince in pain while he slowly shuffled himself closer to the edge in a clumsy attempt to make some space for you.
The thumping of his heartbeat reverberated in his chest, the stress melting from out your bones. You couldn’t help but sigh in content once you laid your head on his chest. Now that you were wrapped in each other’s arms, it felt like you could finally rest.
“Tired?” He mumbled against your hair, breaking the silence that had settled in the room as you basked in each other’s presence. You hummed in response, nuzzling your cheek against his body and almost purring like a cat at his warmth. Letting your eyes close involuntarily, you couldn’t help but be lulled to a premature slumber. With how comfortable you looked, and because your obnoxious yawning was too contagious, he wanted to do nothing but follow in your footsteps. 
Instead, his eyes stayed wide open and stuck to the ceiling as if the off off-white paint that covered the concrete was the key to shutting down his brain long enough for sleep to take over. It didn’t matter that his blood had been infused with what felt like at least twenty hundred thousand milligrams of various pain-deafening substances that were sure to knock him out in a matter of seconds, falling asleep seemed to be an unattainable goal.
Whatever they had injected into his body increased his senses’ sensitivity, multiplying it times a hundred instead of dulling them down to nothing. And it didn’t stop at the uncomfortable overtly bright fluorescent lights or the suddenly deafening sound of unoiled wheels from hospital carts being rolled around. It was the way he could feel you barely resting your weight against his body, as if scared the least amount of pressure would make his heart stop. The way he was met with your now dull eyes, almost bloodshot but not quite, sunken with a thick coat of desperation, or fear, or some sort of premature grief, as soon as he woke up. Or how, in spite of only being gone for less than a day, it seemed like you had spent a lifetime unable to exist alongside everything you held dear.
Hyper aware of all those little details and more, it hit him without warning, and suddenly, he could feel the overwhelming urge to cry.
It prickled uncomfortably at his eyes, the skin around his charcoal orbs itching like it was on fire. His mouth felt cottony, smothering his airways and cutting his airflow while his tongue rested uncharacteristically heavy in his mouth with the weight of unsaid words. It broke all his bones at once, leaving him numb on the ground, still like a corpse, and unable to suppress the dooming feeling of his own life spilling from his pores, mixing with his blood until the air around him turned thick and metallic.
In the blink of an eye he had been one step closer to the grave, barely hanging onto a thread of consciousness as the view of his shop turned blurrier and blurrier, and now he was breathing. His lungs had finally regained consciousness and he could feel everything around him overwhelmingly loud and clear and close and real. 
Now awake, he could feel you laying on top of him, almost passed out due to the immeasurable amount of stress he had put you under. And maybe if it wasn’t for his reckless habit of parading around life with his guard lowered or for the lack of proper security measures at the shop—because who on earth would rob him? There’s no way he could be that unlucky. Impossible. Or maybe it was his inability to dodge, to hold his stance in a fight because even if he was strong, without proper technique he was rendered useless and, holy shit– he could’ve died.
He could’ve died and then Manjiro would’ve been forced to grow up way too soon because he would have to take care of Emma and grandpa—although knowing both his siblings, Emma was more likely to turn into the head of the house. And then his friends would’ve been left to grieve his death, make sad speeches about the best moments they had together and, fuck was Takeomi terrible at writing; his speech would just be a big mess of incoherent words stuck together. And what about the shop? Who was he leaving the shop to? And what about Inupi? Inupi was just a kid and he can’t just leave him all alone; he had promised to himself to take care of him the same way he took care of his siblings— fuck, Izana as well. Who was going to look after his brother? He was planning to introduce him to all of you guys soon. The two of you would’ve gotten along so well and,
And you. 
What about you?
You looked beyond heartbroken. Words couldn't begin to describe exactly what somberness mulled deep within that brain of yours. If this is how you reacted to the possibility of him dying, then how would’ve you reacted to him actually doing so?
A choked sob rips through his lips, the sound painful as it breaches its forceful containment.
“Shin–”
“I’m sorry.”
“What…” you trailed off. The strained cry had erased any speck of slumber. For a second you thought you had dreamt it, that your brain had finally gone off the rails and you were hearing imaginary voices. That was until you looked up at him, eyes welling up with unshed tears, body stiff as if to prevent them from falling. “What’re you sorry for?”
“I just remembered the beach trip we were planning for Manjiro’s birthday,” he sniffled, “and I think we’re gonna have to cancel.”
“That’s okay, we can reschedule—”
“Yeah but I– I know he was really excited for it, all his friends were.”
“We’ll talk to them, make sure they understand—”
“And you were excited about it too,” avoiding your eyes even after you had tried to coax him into meeting yours. He felt so far away, almost unreachable despite laying right next to you. “And I know how much you love the beach and I really wanted to go with you even if we were gonna have to chaperone six hyperactive children,
“And, and I know the guys were gonna come with and we had it all perfectly planned out with this huge dorayaki cake thing and now we’re gonna have to cancel because of me—”
“Wait,” you shush him as gently as possible, sitting up and holding his hand tightly between yours. “What do you mean ‘because of me’?”
Almost as if he had never started, your question managed to shut down his rambling like forcefully closing a water faucet. He had this estranged, far-off look darkening his face, eyes glassy, almost as if he were dissociating. It made your stomach churn with anxiety. Never in your many, many, years of friendship had you seen him lose himself like this.
“Because,” he paused, trying to swallow down the knot grappling at his throat, fighting off the urge to tear it off with his bare hands. “Because it's my fault we’re cancelling.”
“I– What’re you talking about?”
He groaned in desperation. Why was this so hard to explain? 
“I’m the one who’s bedridden.” Still dizzy after waking up and to the best of his ability, he tried sitting up, wincing in pain to then give up and lean into his forearms. “I’m the one with random needles poking through my skin, fresh off the ER because my skull was bashed into with one of my own tools and maybe, just maybe, if I had been more aware at the time, I could've avoided the hit.”
“Shin, this wasn’t your fault—”
“But it is! Can't you see?” 
“Shin–”
“D’you know what I did when I heard someone break the glass?” He looked at you expectantly, voice raised in frustration. “After I called the cops; do you?” You shook your head in response, knowing that any attempt to help him calm down would be futile. “I grabbed a wrench. 
“After the operator told me to hide and wait for help because I told them it sounded like more than one person was inside, I grabbed a stupid wrench and decided to face them,
“I decided to face them even if I'm well aware I wouldn’t be able to take two people at once.”
And though he seemed to be dead set on believing that somehow he managed to land himself in the hospital,  you wouldn’t allow him to give himself up to the restless thoughts, no matter how badly he wanted to indulge the bitter part of his brain that had gotten used to putting himself down. 
“Someone hit you from behind,” you tried, “you were ambushed, of course you wouldn't be able to take them on.”
His defeated sigh gave you some sort of uncomfortable comfort. Knowing it made you glad that he had finally given up was a conflicting feeling you wish to never re-examine or experience again.
You sat up, swallowing the foreign relief down, and scooted further up the bed’s backrest. Your elbow rested well above the pillow where he laid, and you couldn't help but use your leverage to gently brush your fingers through his hair, only relaxing once he visibly melted against your touch.
“You didn’t do this to yourself, this wasn’t your fault.” You whispered, fingertips soothing his worries as they ghosted the skin of his forehead. “You’re not responsible for every single thing that goes wrong, no matter how much you try to convince yourself you are.”
He can’t recall a single moment in his life in which he felt like he was relieved from his self-imposed duty—the duty of an older brother, primary caretaker, and practically a parent. Someone who must put everyone’s needs above his own well-being. He’s responsible for everything going on around him, the good, the bad, the neutral, the everything. It only made sense that the break in and the subsequent series of events were, in part, his responsibility. 
And he knew it was irrational thinking because how on earth would he have known what was going to happen? But he couldn’t help it, not when all the consequences of his actions reflected on the bigger picture; everyone relies on Shinichiro Sano, and it was his duty to fulfil. 
“And I promise you no one is disappointed in you. Not a single one of us.” You press your lips against the top of his head, smiling through your own teary eyes at the little hum he involuntarily let out. “We’re all so, so happy that you're awake and talking and I bet Manjiro would rather move his beach birthday party a hundred years from now than lose his brother six days before his birthday,
“The beach is not going anywhere, and neither are we, okay? We are not going anywhere.” 
And you knew it wasn’t not enough. Your words weren’t enough to shut up the swirling negativity spiral in his brain. But at least it was enough to calm him down, enough for him to fall asleep in spite of the dampness kissing his skin; he might have successfully managed to suppress the heart wrenching sobs, but he was not strong enough to hold back the tears that cascaded down his cheeks.
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You follow through not long after, head lolling to the side in an uncomfortable position that would for sure leave your neck aching for days. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. There was no dreaming this time. No nightmares or worst case scenarios crafted deep within your subconscious. In spite of the gloomy circumstances, the two of you had fallen asleep. Finally, being in your arms was beyond comforting. Plus, indulging in the rest your body had craved for hours made it easier to regain consciousness once Manjiro decided to jump on the two of you in surprise, never minding the possibility of further injuring his brother by mistake.
Being on the receiving end of his lovable violence hurt more than you thought it would, one of his hands landing straight on your stomach and the other on Shinichiro’s chest, but you couldn’t blame the kid. Based on what Keisuke had confided in you last night, Manjiro had witnessed both his best friends’ arrest as well as his brother being pulled out unconscious on a stretcher out of the shop.
Beyond a muffled apology, he didn’t utter anything else, like his voice had given in. He clung onto Shinichiro’s body like his life depended on it. 
A swift knock on the door caught your attention, though Manjiro didn't even bother looking up, face tucked against his brother’s body, letting himself relax as his brother’s fingers threaded through his blond locks. 
Emma poked her head from behind the wall, hands holding onto the door frame for balance. From where you laid you could see how her eyes were almost as puffy as yours. They were rimmed with a bright red, the same shade that was splotched all over her cheeks and nose. Mansaku stood beside her, holding onto his hat.
You could physically feel the relief washing over Shinichiro the moment he saw his whole family entering the room. He laid lighter next to you, with a brighter smile decorating his lips. It was like his body had melted from hard concrete right into a puddle, your previous conversation seemingly forgotten as a twinkle of warmth returned to his pretty eyes.
Careful not to let Manjiro fall in the dent you were leaving as you stood up, you beckoned Emma over. She cuddled up to Shinichiro, clinging onto him while her soft sniffles filled the silent room, and you swore you had almost started tearing up again at the sight.
Mansaku placed a hand on your shoulder, making you flinch in surprise as he acknowledged your presence. Like a wordless thank you, he nodded at you before stepping closer towards the bed, letting his hand rest on Shinichiro’s, and gently squeezed as if making sure his grandson was truly there. 
In no way shape or form was it the perfect family meetup—a perfect one wouldn’t entail the eldest-grandson-slash-parental-figure stuck in a hospital bed. But by the way they huddled together, Shinichiro pinching Manjiro’s cheeks, the latter not even fighting him off like he usually would, and patting Emma’s head in reassurance, with Mansaku displaying the ghost of a smile as he stood next to his grandchildren, the four of them gave off the feeling of everything being okay.
The familiar warmth between them left you to watch the scene like an outsider in a third-person point of view. It made you feel like you were intruding, messily glued to one of those fancy family portraits. 
In spite of both your families spending the majority of their lives around one another, you weren’t a Sano. No matter how close Keisuke and Manjiro were, no matter how much Shinichiro and you acted like a married couple with at least five children, you were never going to be one. You knew this from the start, but even so, the knowledge didn’t stop the churning of a deeply seeded loneliness inside your stomach. 
You didn’t bother with your goodbyes. Even if you had promised Shinichiro you’d spend the rest of the day together—pretending to be bothered and reluctant when you sealed it with a ‘pinky promise’ to hide the fact you’d willingly play nurse whenever he needed it—something from within told you it was your time to leave, you weren’t that important after all.
The question swirled inside your skull, bitter as it scratched your bones, as you leaned against the walls outside the hospital. At first, you intended to camp out in a waiting room, maybe join them after you had finally calmed down, but instead your legs had taken you right outside, landing you in a secluded area between the building and the many trees surrounding it so you could confidently retrieve the crushed package from your back pocket without disturbing anyone
Your thumb burned as you attempted to roll the sparkwheel of your zippo lighter, the metal forming uncomfortable crevices against your skin. You had to hold back the urge to bite down on the cigarette you had clumsily stuck between your teeth instead of your lips, frustration welling up and threatening to burst from the seams that clumsily held you together. 
Waiting for the uncomfortable itch to burn at your throat, you traced the outline of the red koi fish at the corner of the lighter, eroded after thumbing at it like a nervous tick over the years. Every time you felt your eyes water you made sure to compulsively take another drag, as if the smoke could cloud your thoughts, mixing them up with the familiar nostalgia.
Anyone would think that after incinerating your taste buds with each stick you burn, you’d get used to the taste. Whoever said it gets easier the more you do it was a liar. They were as disgusting as ever, flavour the exact same as those you had tried when you were younger, fooling around with your friends. It first started when Shinichiro and Takeomi brought a couple of cigarettes they had stolen from his grandfather to one of your hang outs. It prompted the three of you to continuously choke and make fun of each other for doing so until there were only mustard coloured butts squished on the floor. 
Neither Takeomi nor you had really enjoyed the experience, but for some reason, Shinichiro was quick to grow fond of the taste. He made sure to carry around a twelve-pack wherever he went, lighting up cigarette after cigarette in strategic places so the smell wouldn’t stick to his hair or clothes. Not soon after, the rather unhealthy habit had extended to the remaining two of you, who couldn’t help but carry your own packs to satisfy your newly birthed cravings. 
Looking back, you’re sure younger-you did that to be a little more like Shinichiro, just like Takeomi, and for other even more childish reasons like appearing more mature and attractive in his eyes; you clearly remember him having a thing for older women for a while. Sure, the two of you were the same age but still, you felt like he didn’t see you like you wanted him to, and the only way for you to change that would be to gain some more common ground with him right? 
So yeah, just like Takeomi, you wanted to be more like Shinchiro, but unlike Takeomi—as far as you know—you had started buying cigarette packets mainly to share back and forth with your best friend in, what you would call, a weak attempt at flirting. 
At least the cringe memory managed to rip you out from the insecurity whirlpool you were being sucked into, making you groan while softly hitting your head against the concrete wall. Thank god Wakasa existed to berate you into stopping the unhealthily embarrassing habit. Back then you were just a kid, but were you being for real? Were you seriously intending to build your whole life around a man to the point you’d indulge in one of the most common and deadliest habits in the world for a slim chance at a high-school romance? Fuck, was younger-you so painfully stupid to even think–
“One of you is already in the hospital, we don't need you to auto-hospitalise.”
The old man’s voice made you jump, fumbling with the cigarette until it fell to the floor. You tried to hide the coughing fit to the best of your ability while frantically stomping on the lit stick laying on the ground. It didn’t matter that you were an adult, you were still terrified of getting caught smoking by the man.
“Would you mind sharing one with me?” He asked, ignoring the way your face morphed into a confused frown. With nimble fingers, you opened your cigarette pack once again, handing him your lighter when he was unable to fetch his from his pockets.
“You still smoke?” You questioned, adding a hasty ‘sir’ once you noticed how informal you had sounded. 
He chuckled in response, taking another puff. “I only stopped doing it in front of the children.”
This time it was your turn to chuckle, playing with the gravel underneath your feet to avoid looking at the man at your slip-up. Still, even with your gaze fixated on the ground you could tell he was looking at you in curiosity. 
“I didn’t mean to laugh it’s just,” clearing your throat, you stumbled with your words, debating in your head whether you should come up with one of your horrid cover ups or tell the truth. “You always smoked around us when we were little, like you didn’t care.”
You thought he would’ve left you alone after that, knowing you were purposely disrespectful towards him. It would’ve been better that way. Then you would’ve been left to wallow in your own self-pity in peace, with no one to stop you from finishing the seven remaining cigarettes. But he didn’t, taking you aback as he stayed rooted right by your side. 
Had you been anyone else, he would’ve called them out. To cover up his own embarrassment or to make up for the disrespect? Not even he could be sure. But he had seen you grow up next to his own grandchildren, sharing your love and caring nature with them along with your mild irascibility and your talent for keeping Shinichiro on a tight leash. He couldn’t help but grow fond of you, even if most of your one-on-one interactions had consisted of you running away from him before he managed to scold you. 
He had only stopped smoking once Manjiro was born, self-awareness finally sinking into his thick skull as he watched his two grandsons play together. No one had questioned him back then, letting him sit on the couch undisturbed while he read the morning paper. It was only after Sakurako had passed away, that he had started to notice the many areas he was lacking, watching both Shinichiro and you fill the gaps in each other’s broken homes while he alienated himself from the responsibility of taking care of his family. The two of you worked so in sync, he would be of no help—or at least that was what he had told himself.
“I wasn’t the best grandfather.”
“You think?”
“I know.” He smiled at your attitude; snappy as always, the only difference was the way you now recoiled in embarrassment at your slip ups. Using his fingers to get rid of the ash, he tapped on the back of the cigarette before taking another drag. “Thank you for taking care of them when I couldn’t.”
Not even a noise of acknowledgement, your vocal chords had closed themselves shut at the man’s sudden mild vulnerability. Out of all the things you expected him to ever say to you, a ‘thank you’ was never on the list. He was always sporting his characteristic cartoonish frown, speaking to everyone in a clipped tone with pointed words.
“You’re more important to us than you think.” He stepped on the cigarette butt. “That is one of the reasons why I can’t let you believe what happened to my grandson was in any way your fault.”
“‘Sorry?” You mumbled in confusion, his words pulling yet another frown onto your face; did you miss any pivotal points in the conversation? How had the conversation switched from his apparent familial issues to you? 
“I know you feel guilty for what happened, even if you weren’t involved.” He sighed, not bothering to look you in the eye before continuing his speech. “You’re not responsible for your brother’s doing.”
“Yeah,” you scoffed in mild amusement, as if that wasn’t something you’ve been trying to tell yourself; all Bajis share their fuckups. But then again, of course he wouldn’t understand. “Easier said than done.”
This time you didn’t try to make up for the way had snapped at him. And bless the man for being able to read the room, because he didn’t push the conversation further. Deep down he knew you needed the outlet; you may have already cried, but all your anger was still pent up inside of you. And after everything you had done for him and his family, it was the least he could do for you. 
“It doesn’t matter what we believe, we’re always responsible for everyone’s mess.” You scoff in dismay. “It’s like we were born for our families to have a provisional caretaker. 
“So thank you for trying to tell me I didn’t break into Shinchiro’s shop, I know I didn’t, but it's still my mess to fix.” The aftertaste of the words laid heavy in your mouth, trickling down your throat like bitter bile tearing through the tissue. You didn’t like how they sounded; they were too impersonal, too selfish. You took a deep breath, holding yourself upright in spite of the pang in your chest. “Not that i wouldn’t have taken care of Shin if someone else had been responsible for what happened, I lo– I– I care too much about him to just leave him be but its just—”
You cleared your throat, “If I had made sure I knew where Keisuke was going or, or if I had actually tried to listen to him when he told me he didn’t know what to give Manjiro for his birthday then maybe– just…” 
You trailed off, unable to finish your sentence without breaking down the walls of the dam you thought you had finally managed to piece back together. You didn’t want the responsibility of rebuilding them back up, you don’t think you’d be able to do it as quickly as you’d want to. But you weren’t venting your sorrows to the wind. Mansaku Sano was still standing next to you, hands locked behind his back as he waited for you to continue, and though he was well aware of the times in which he had to remain quiet, he also knew when it was time to speak up. 
“Then what?”
“Then,” you swallow, “then none of this would’ve happened, and he would’ve been okay.”
Your body itched for another cigarette, pawing at your skull for you to smother down the tears spouting from your eyes, even if the smoke would make your eyes teary once again. But with Mansaku Sano standing next to you, you didn’t dare touch a single one; it didn’t matter that you had just finished spilling your pent up emotions, you drew the line at smoking with Shinichiro’s grandfather. The thought sprouted a melancholic smile on your lips; Shinichiro would have a field day when he finds out what just went down.
The only thing left you had to ground yourself was the cold metal of your lighter, already starting to heat up at the warmth of your skin. You ran your thumb over it once again, the pattern already engraved in your mind. The habit had probably developed out of your need to be comforted by familiarity—of course the lighter was the right candidate, from its colour and texture, size and temperature, you had everything about it memorised like the back of your hand. 
“It’s a really nice lighter.” You hadn't realised you were playing with it until he spoke up; twirling it between your fingers over and over again, flipping it open and close, lighting it up before shutting the lid and extinguishing the flame. 
“Thanks,” you sniffled, and right after you finished speaking, your voice hoarse and tired, you regretted ever doing so. You felt like a child once again; like when your mom tried to comfort you after you had scraped your knee, or when a couple of older middle-schoolers had beaten your friends up. A child like when the day was finally over and you had to go back home from a play-date, or when your favourite toy had fallen inside the river while walking over a bridge. You regretted speaking the minute you had discovered your voice sounded as weak as you felt, and yet, at the mention of your beloved trinket, you felt the warm giddiness wash over your body forcing you to speak. And so, once again like a child, you did. “I got it at a summer festival, Shin got it for me.”
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“I thought you said you wanted to come visit him.”
For a minute Keisuke didn’t speak. He looked straight at the ground, feet planted on the floors like roots had grown out of him as he held your hand.
Earlier this morning he had clung onto your waist while angry tears rolled down his cheeks. The moment he caught sight of you putting your shoes on the genkan he had broken into a run, letting his body smash against yours, and almost making you lose your balance. Both you and your mom had tried your hardest to calm him down for what felt like hours but to no avail. He persisted, begging for you to let him accompany you to the hospital. 
Outside of Shinichiro’s room, it was a whole other story. All of a sudden he had decided he didn’t want to see him eye to eye. His reaction made you internally groan in frustration. Had you listened to your own gut feeling telling you Keisuke wasn’t ready to come with you, it would’ve saved him the stress of making a choice for himself. Instead, you were too weak to his puppy dog eyes and wobbly pleas, and now his eyes had started to water as he tried to hold back his own hiccups. 
“I promise Shin-nii isn’t angry at you,” you cooed, kneeling down to the floor and looking up at him. When had he gotten this tall? When had he grown this much? Were your efforts enough to shape him into a decent person? “and if you truly don't feel comfortable we can go home, I promise I won’t get angry.”
He rubbed at his teary eyes with his free hand before nodding at you, trailing behind you as you stood up and knocked on the door.
“Hey!” you poked your head into the room with a smile, one that faltered as you tried to keep your mouth from falling open in awe once you noticed how the sunlight streaming from the window kissed every inch of Shinichiro’s skin as he quietly read the book you had given him as a joke. He looked up at you, pearly whites all up for display, and mumbled a soft mumbled a soft ‘hey’ right back at you; he looked so pretty he could be mistaken for an angel. “I brought Keisuke with me, ‘that okay?”
He hummed in response, marking the page he was reading before setting it aside. Even after the events that took place at the shop, you knew he wouldn’t mind your brother visiting—he had a soft spot for him after all. The verbal confirmation was more for Keisuke’s sake, who prompted by it, let go of your hand and walked into the room, a tinge of fear staining each step he took. 
Shinichiro grinned, gently waving his way. And though the both of you had always found some sense of comfort in the warmth of his smile, it took less than a second for Keisuke to burst into tears. Sobs wracked his body as he stood frozen in the middle of the room, frantically drying out his cheeks with his forearms in vain. Tears kept pouring from his caramel eyes down to his cheeks until they stained his striped shirt.
At the sight of his distress, Shinichiro tried standing up as quickly as possible, almost ripping off his tangled IV. Thankfully, you managed to stop him before he could; the moment your brother had started crying you were already by his side wrapping your arms around his fragile figure.
Much like you had done the past few days, you combed his hair with your fingers while shushing his cries. It had become almost like a habit, Keisuke running to you in the middle of the day, hugging you close while you dried his tears for him. You’d think he’d ran out of tears by now, but something you didn’t take into account was how similar the two of you were, always feeling everything too much, all at once.
“You’re okay,” you whispered into his hair, “you’re okay, and Shin-nii’s okay, see?” you asked him, holding his tear streaked cheeks and motioning his face to meet your gaze, waiting for his breathing to even out before you coaxed him into looking at Shinichiro. “We’ve got you, the two of us, we've got you.”
He smiled at him once again, though you could see a twinkle of sadness in his eyes, as extended one of his hands for him to take. Warily, he warmed up to the invitation, wiping the remaining tears from his face before dragging his feet to the edge of the bed, asking if he could sit with him in a very un-Keisuke nature; it was unusual for him to ask before acting on his impulses.
Shinichiro softened once he felt Keisuke nuzzling his cheek against his chest. He ran his fingers through his dark locks, and as he did so you couldn’t help but think how his hair kept getting longer and longer with each day; hopefully no one from the school office would call you letting you know it was time to chop it off once classes were back in session.
In between hushed whispers, they talked amongst each other for a while. At first, Baji kept giving one word responses, still insecure in spite of your reassurance, but it wasn’t long before he started to loosen up, giggling between sniffles at Shinichiro’s questions and mocking his ‘honorary-brother’ back with teary jabs.
It was a solid dynamic they had been able to build after years of trust and consistent interaction; your two favourite boys extending their love to each other like they were flesh and blood. In that way, the two of them were similar, fiercely loyal and willing to give themselves up for those they loved. You were grateful that Shinichiro was there for Keisuke as he grew up, unknowingly making up for everything you lacked.
The mumble of your name caught your attention, popping your nostalgia blown bubble. Keisuke and Shinichiro alike were beckoning you over, the latter extending his arm as the two of them scooted over and patted the free space next to him.
He held your hand like you were a princess stepping onto a carriage, gingerly helping you keep your balance as you toed-off your shoes. You let out a sigh once you plopped yourself on the bed, letting his arm curl around your shoulders while he kept your hands interlocked, rubbing the skin with his thumb. In spite of the giddiness warming your stomach, you forced yourself to roll your eyes in response when he teasingly asked if you were comfortable, pretending to be bothered by his apparent clinginess 
“‘Your sister made you try the jell-o cups already?” he asked Keisuke, the younger boy looking up at him through puffy eyes and wet lashes, and once he shook his head in response he whistled, turning towards you as if disappointed. “You haven’t made him try ‘em yet?” 
“‘Came straight to see you.” You brushed off, pretending you didn’t feel his body tense beside you and smiling to yourself in subtle victory when he gulped.
“You should’ve gone to the cafeteria first.” He scolded jokingly, clicking his tongue as if that would help him hide his blushing cheeks that hurt from his own shy affection. Soon after, he switched his attention to your brother, ruffling his hair before speaking, “Remember those jell-o cups you used to share with Manjiro and Haruchiyo? The ones they sold at the konbini?”
“Yeah, but they don't have ‘em anymore,” Keisuke pouted, brows furrowed in thought. His sharp canines poked at his bottom lip, tilting his head up at Shinichiro and grinning. “Mikey almost fought the cashier guy when we found out they stopped selling them!”
“Yeah, I remembered that.” He chuckled, recalling the time he had heard the employee complain about Manjiro’s sudden aggression on one of his morning milk runs. “But guess what?” he sat on his forearms, dragging out the silence to build anticipation. He waited for the two of you to raise your heads from his chest, sharing an evident impatience as you urged him to continue. He took a deep breath before grinning once again. “They still sell ‘em over here.”
“No way! Really?!” The boy stood up in less than a second, forcing you to grab onto the neck of his t-shirt to prevent him from falling flat on his ass while he cried in glee, tears seemingly forgotten. Those jell-o cups in particular had been a staple of everyone’s childhood; you had been eating those snacks for years and years. You can clearly remember the clear disappointment in his face when he told you they had been discontinued, his somberness rubbing off on you.
“Yeah!” Shinichiro exclaimed back, scooting closer to your brother and placing one of his hands on the bed railing behind your brother, aiding you in your task of preventing Keisuke from falling to the ground. The memory had suddenly made its wake into his consciousness after mulling over ways to comfort your brother and coming up empty handed, until he had suddenly turned to his bedside table where an empty plastic cup sat with a flimsy disposable spoon. “Manjiro and Emma got a bunch from the cafeteria to take home, you could do the same.”
You were almost taken aback by the speed he used to turn his face towards you, surprised he didn’t give himself whiplash before he asked you with as much excitement he could muster, “Can we?! Please, please!?”
His pleading words made his bronze eyes sparkle under the fluorescent lights and though you know you shouldn’t, you can’t find it in yourself to say no. You smiled and nodded without a shadow of a doubt that you’d do anything in your power to keep the toothy grin you missed on his lips.
“Does that mean I can go get one now?” He pleaded, tilting his head and yet again putting on display the best puppy-dog eyes he could muster. “Please? I haven't had one in years, I wanna know if they’re the same as I remember.”
“Knock yourself out.” Shinichiro said before you could respond, ruffling Keisuke’s hair before the latter jumped down, ignoring the fact you didn’t give him a proper response before running off to the cafeteria.
You sighed unimpressed, turning towards the man beside you and letting yourself slump against his figure. His chuckle only made you roll your eyes.
“What? Were you planning to say no to him?” 
He knew you too well for your own good.
“Shut up.” With a gentle push you force him back down on the bed, elbowing him lightly in the process and pressing your head back against his chest. You almost hum in satisfaction when he let himself fall back down without resistance, caving in under your touch. “I could’ve said no.”
“Yeah, right.” This time, he was the one rolling his eyes, mocking your mannerisms and chuckling when you smiled, hoping the apparent ‘nonchalance’ would mask his now increased heart rate, and the faster beating coming from the vital sign monitor.
“I could’ve!” You tried to sit up in retaliation, pretending to be annoyed, yet you didn’t resist when he pulled you back down. He held down his own giggling once he felt you cuddling up closer to his side, tracing random patterns on his dotted hospital gown and realising too late how close both your hands were. The proximity made you nervous; even if the two of you were practically laying one on top of the other, holding hands felt like a foreign act of intimacy. 
Subtly enough, you tried reaching out for the tip of his fingers, moving what seemed like less than a millimetre per minute. Soon enough, he took notice of your plan; hesitantly, he moved his own towards you, letting your fingertips rest against each other for a couple of seconds, like he was asking for your permission, before interlocking his fingers with yours.
“You really can’t stay away from me, can you?” he teased, gaze focused on your entwined hands through his lashes as he felt too shy to look anywhere near your face. It seemed that hiding the pink-ish blush staining his cheek had become his number one priority; you were so close, so everywhere, he wouldn’t want it any other way, even if the closest he’d get to you would be through friendly teasing, bordering the line of ‘definitely, a 100% and unmistakably platonic’ flirting. 
In your mind, you were desperately scavenging for any semblance of a comeback, preferably witty and with the same energy he was giving you.Instead, all you did was sigh.
“Yeah, you’re right.”
You blamed the gusty confession on a moment of weakness, likely born out of your depleting energy mixed with the way his hand fit against yours like two perfectly carved puzzle pieces. You weren’t sure why you had said what you did, the way you did; voice softening as the longing you had suppressed your whole life coated every syllable that rolled down your tongue. 
He hummed in response, giddy and satisfied, before backtracking in confusion. The lack of sarcasm or annoyance lighthearted mockery caught the two of you off-guard, though it seemed to have a bigger impact on him as his body tensed up for a moment. If you were to look up at him, you’d probably see his head tilted to the side, with warm cheeks and the ghost of a frown clouding his features.
And that’s exactly why you don’t. 
Not like this; you wouldn't allow yourself to do so, wouldn’t even dare. Not when the stakes were this high, multiple worst outcomes served on a silver platter for you to choose because once you look up at him he would notice the way you see him, like he hung up each individual constellation up in the sky on his own and then all of it would be over for you.
For the both of you. 
“Do you, uh,” the slight shake in his voice made you gulp, like you had an inkling of a very possible question he could ask. Maybe this would finally be the end of your friendship which, to your own dismay, could be very easily broken by other things that weren’t death itself, “do you know if Keisuke has talked to Manjiro yet?”
You cleared your throat, holding back the sigh of relief, and shook your head. “I don’t think he knows how.”
“He’s scared?” 
“I think so,” you pondered, “they’ve been friends since forever, I think he’s scared of losing…him.”
Knowing that both you and your brother’s situation overlapped in so many ways felt weird; both Baji siblings were scared to lose their respective Sano brothers. It sounded funny, almost cute, like both Bajis and Sanos were meant to stick together generation after generation. You would’ve giggled at the thought, explain the parallels between the two relationships to Shinichiro and laugh at the silliness of it, yet the fear that had taken possession of your body the last couple of days lingered at the thought. 
Scared of losing him.
You almost choked on the words sitting heavy in your mouth, like you had confessed to a crime. Had you been alone, maybe they would’ve urged you to cry.
“Hey, ‘you okay?” You hadn’t realised that the worry had bled onto your face, dripping down your cheeks and coating your eyelashes with sorrow until he spoke up, tearing you away from your trance. But you couldn’t help it, the lingering torture you endured at the hands of your brain replaying past events, from the bailing your brother out of jail as he sobbed to having Wakasa answer the call for you, Kazutora crying in your arms and Shinichiro blaming himself for his own accident, the more you felt like losing yourself in his embrace, tightening your hold on his hand. “You left me there for a second I thought–”
“No.”
“What?”
“No, I’m–” you stuttered, “I don’t think I’m okay, I–”
Rejection after rejection, you’ve seen what felt like an infinite amount of his confessions go sideways, and yet he handled each and every one of them with grace. You’d attribute his resilience to the amount of first hand experience he’s had with it, and though at first it had taken a big toll on him. By now, rejection was nothing to him. He could make a fool of himself in front of anyone and he really wouldn’t care; he has told you so himself. 
But you were not Shinichiro, and you could never be him.
You were resentful and impulsive, oftentimes reacting way before you think. You were impatient and whiny, though you tried your best to suppress that particular trait to no avail. You were a selfish, self-destructive being that somehow managed to keep the insecure neediness brewing inside on the down low. 
And you could go on. You could go on because you were stubborn, volatile, melodramatic and a part of your brain really does think you were just setting yourself up for failure listing every single negative character trait that comes to mind. But it didn’t matter because that just further proves you're not Shinichiro Sano, that you were never going to be Shinichiro Sano because you were weak.
Too weak to answer the call, too weak not to try and escape uncomfortable situations, too weak to hold back the urge for a smoke, too weak to forgive Kazutora, too weak to confess your feelings for your best friend even after bawling your eyes out at the thought of a life without him.
Too weak, too weak, too weak. 
Being weak is all you’ve ever known. 
The thoughts poured and they wouldn’t stop, crashing against each other like the same bumper carts you rode along with Shinichiro at the funfair with your siblings. Back then, you were all smiles and laughter, and right now you wondered if the two of you would’ve held hands if it wasn’t for Emma sitting in the middle of you both.
And he was so warm next to you, not pressuring you to clarify whatever word-vomit you just spewed instead of a proper comeback. So sweet as he squeezed your hand to let you know he was there to help in whichever way he could to lull your worries to sleep. So kind as he took care of you when you should be the one taking care of him. Always so him.
You had no right to be a coward, at least not in front of one of the strongest and bravest people you’ve ever met. It wasn’t fair. Listing your flaws from the top of your head would never justify your body preventing itself from spilling the truth just so you could try and grasp at the fragile strings of self-pity to sew yourself back together as unspoken words necrotize your tongue. 
The same way you wouldn’t dare look at him, you wouldn’t dare stay away from him. It’d kill you just to try. So fuck every martyrish thought in your head, fuck the burned cigarette butts stained with indirect kisses, fuck the many nights the two of you spent stargazing in his garden, the infinite amount of chocolates you bought him for valentine’s day to make up for the emptiness of his locker; and the countless times he had dropped everything he was doing for the chance to spend just a couple of minutes with you. Fuck the worn out red koi fish engraved on your lighter and the possibility of breaking the promise you two made of never straying away from each other.
“I can’t stay away from you,” you took a deep breath, “I think I’d rather die than live a life without you,
“The sole idea of losing you almost sent me over the edge, and even after you were out of surgery I was a mess,” you stopped yourself again, giving yourself the chance to swallow down the knot in your throat; it didn’t work. “I was going insane without being able to talk your ear off because even when I talk about something you couldn’t give a shit about you still give a shit, you give so many shits when it comes to me, too many,
“You’re loyal and gentle and charming and you’re always smiling, and it's like, it's like you're absolutely everything good and even then you genuinely have no idea how wrapped around your finger I truly am, 
“And I don't think I’ve ever properly thanked you for existing because I don't think I’d be the same person I am right now if it wasn't for you, and even if I'm not perfect, I- I wouldn't trade myself for a better version if that meant you wouldn’t be in my life.
“So, yeah, I guess you’re right, I don’t think I can,” you let your shoulders sag, like the confession finally burned years upon years of cover-ups and excuses and fake scenarios you had come up with before bed stored in the darkest depth of your brain. “Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to stay away from you.”
Pensive, he melted further against the pillows, letting his muscles melt at the sound of his own sighing. Even if you weren’t directly looking at him, you hear his smile reverberating throughout his body, and the sole idea of him possibly reciprocating your feelings made you impossibly giddy; a little too giddy. It was easy, after all, to get your hopes up once you lose yourself in him, his warmth and comfort. And for less than a second, you can see your hypothetical future with him pass right in front of your eyes, forcing you to accept a premature victory. But as the silence between the two of you started to drag itself out, you couldn't help but reluctantly welcome the acrid heartbreak tearing through your skin.
“I’m sorry,” you tensed up, “I shouldn’t have–”
“No, no, it's–,” he blurted out tongue tied as if your words had snapped him out of a trance, mirroring the same giddiness you had displayed with the same hint of hesitancy, “no one has talked about me like that, I guess it just caught me off-guard.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, I don’t– don’t think I'd be able to stay away from you either– not that I want to, of course it's just– sorry give me a minute.” Looking off to the side, he tried to collect himself, clearing his throat and pinching his cheeks, the skin already stained with all sorts of shades of pink. For him, it was inevitable not to become all shy and flustered, the least he could do was bite his tongue so as not to break into a fit of giggles, prevent himself from swinging his legs and twirling his short strands of hair like a lovesick middle schooler. All because of you. “Just, um, just to be clear before I look like an absolute fool, not that I don't look like an absolute fool on a daily basis, but this is a confession, right?” 
You raised your head up in confusion, tilting your head and furrowing your brows. Had you not been so baffled by his self-explanatory question you would’ve fawned over this version of him, giddy and soft and in love with you because just by looking at his eyes you could tell he was looking at you like you hung the moon up in the sky—it was easy to decipher; after staring at him the exact same way countless times, you were bound to familiarise yourself with such display of devotion. And had he not looked this adorable, you would’ve teased him for being so painfully and hopelessly dense, but you didn’t have it in you to do so, only managing to nod in response.
“So you like like me?” He continued, waiting for your reassurance, either a nod or a smile, or any signal that he was right. “So you are in love with me?”
“I mean, I wouldn't say I'm in love but if that's what makes you sleep at night.” The more you stared at his face, the dimples on his cheeks, the creasing of his eyes at your words and the giggle he couldn’t help but contain, the wider the smile creeping at his lips became.
“Will you say it then?” He prodded, moving closer to you, now unable to hide the twinge of pink that grew what seemed like a thousand shades per second.
“I don’t know,” your legs innocently dangled from the side of the bed, trying to win back control of the situation by cutting down on your proximity, and sitting up properly from your half-lying position, “will I?”
“Please?” he begged, cupping one of your cheeks with the palm of his hand and pulling you closer until you could feel each other's breaths. His skin was warm against yours, the roughness of his palm from working non-stop at the shop offset by the tenderness he carried around for you. 
And though you wanted to drag this on, enjoying the back and forth, you were so whipped for this man that you couldn’t stop your nonchalant act from crumbling as soon as you heard him once again let out a shy giggle after he nudged your nose with his.
“I love you.” 
Voice dreamy and saccharine sweet, like confessing to your lifelong desire, you whispered, and just before your lips touched, through lidded eyes and uneven breath he whispered back ‘and I love you’. 
After his own confession, you were unable to pay attention to anything that wasn’t him. All your senses were muted as his soft lips gilded against yours. The taste of the honey chapstick you applied almost compulsively melted against his tongue, and he wondered if like him, you could still faintly taste the strawberry chapstick you had gifted him a while ago; the same one he hadn’t stopped using since, going as far as asking the hospital staff to retrieve it from the pockets of the jeans he was wearing the day of the accident for him.
He bit back a whimper when he felt you bite down gently on his bottom lip, unable to ignore the way you smirk against the kiss once your hand makes its way up to the side of his neck to rest on his pulse point, in the perfect position to feel his heart doing somersaults underneath your touch. It made him want to melt right against you; the more you wandered down his body, the bigger the urge to hold you grew.
His calloused yet delicate fingers traced your skin, running from the apples of your cheeks down to your chin, coaxing you to fully give into him as he traced the tip of his tongue against your lips. He could feel himself grow hard once you gave him permission to enter, basking on the hidden whine you let out at the feeling of the warm muscle enveloping your whole body, drool pooling at the corner of both your lips.
Away from your face, he trails his hands slowly down your torso confidently ghosting the skin before the facade is broken the moment he almost freezes up once he gets to your chest. The blush on his cheeks deepened as you took notice of his apparent nervousness, laughing it off before he continued his path down to your hips, 
He was sure he was ready to die right here in your arms the moment you softly suck on his tongue, his eyes almost rolling towards the back of his skull as you hands grazed his clothed dick. The teasing touch made him groan, the vibrations against your lips feeding the urge to get closer to him. And almost like he had read your mind, you shivered at the tight grip of his hips guiding you over lap until you were resting flush against him.
“‘Want you so bad.” He panted in between giggles, nudging your noses together and pecking your lips over and over again. You barely managed to catch your breath between his kisses; when he leaned away you pulled him in, and when you did so he tried to follow the path of your lips until they were once again interlocked with his. The two of you ignored the satisfying burn of your lungs like the feeling of your bodies close against each other was good enough of a replacement for oxygen itself. “–Waited so long for this.”
He pulled you down a little harder against him, bucking his hips against your. Mewling into the kiss, you wrapped both your arms around his shoulders, perhaps taking too much enjoyment in the minimal friction against your core. The sensation of him rutting desperately against you forced you to meet his attempts for more with an equal amount of want.
“You feel so good.” you cooed, whimpering as he sucked at the skin behind your ear. “Shin, Fuck, you’re so good at this.”
Before he could stop himself, he was groaning at the praise, peppering kisses along your jaw and neck and refusing to come back up to meet your lips to hide the raging blush tinting his skin, spreading from his cheeks up to his ears.
“You like that? Like it when I say you're doing a good job?”
He hummed, though it sounded more like a whimper, and waited no time to pull your face back against his, connecting your lips again in a messy kiss, to, presumably, stop you from teasing him. He took the opportunity to indulge himself, once again tracing the outline of your lower lip with his tongue and nipping at the supple skin in retaliation.
In spite of your own reluctance, you broke the kiss first, finding the way he tried to chase your lips with his eyes half-lidded in pleasure, indescribably cute. You took a minute to fully take in this version of him, his breath uneven and with a thin sheen of sweat making some of his black locks stick to his forehead. His lips were puffy, glistening with saliva as they part involuntarily in an enrapturing appetite. 
He looked so pretty like this, you didn’t think you’d have it in you to control yourself. 
Once you had lowered the sheets covering his legs, one of your thumbs proceeded to draw circular patterns on his exposed thigh, chuckling at the way he flinched before relaxing against you. Gently ghosting your fingernails over his skin, you hiked up his hospital gown until you had full access to the band of his boxers, toying with the elastic but doing nothing aside from that.
“You want to do this here?” He pulled back, eyes wide and dazed with need yet frazzled at your sudden boldness, as if nearly dry humping in a hospital wasn’t bold enough. His hands played with the hem of your shirt, sending shivers down your spine every time his fingers grazed your skin. He looked like a deer caught in headlines, a way cuter version of Bambi, and you couldn’t help but nuzzle your nose against his cheek before kissing him gently, once, twice, thrice.
“Only if you want to.” 
“I do,” he swallowed, clearing his throat to keep himself lucid as he felt the tips of your fingers breaching the hem of his underwear, cold against the warmth of the covered skin. “Fuck, I really do, I need you s’bad I–”
“You fucking disgust me.” 
Like a pair of surprised kittens, the sudden interruption had the two of you jumping away from each other, almost falling off the bed while desperately trying to pull the sheets back into place. In turn Shinichiro tried helping you regain your balance, grabbing your arm before you crashed against the floor, nearly pulling down one of the hospital monitors in the process. 
“Don't you know how to knock?” You bit back, taking his comment more personally that you should’ve. 
“Didn’t think it’d be necessary.” Wakasa crossed his arms in front of his chest, shifting the lollipop in his mouth from one side of his cheek to the other. Standing beside, Benkei held a teddy bear and a lavender flower arrangement, mixed along with baby’s breaths and eucalyptus. If anyone had to guess, the bewildered expression he sported only meant he’d rather have his friend die than see whatever blasphemous activities you were performing. But then again, he probably expected to see his friend bedridden and weak instead of the free front row tickets to your ‘dry humping a post-concussed Shinichiro’ expectale. “‘Thought the worst thing we’d come across was him sleeping.”
“Why did you think coming across me sleeping d’be the worst case scenario!?” Shinichiro butted in lightheartedly, though you wouldn’t rule out the possibility of him actually being serious. “Are you saying I look ugly when I sleep?”
“No, you dumbass,” Wakasa deadpanned; even with his usual unbothered facade you could tell he was grateful for the ordinary banter, questioning his stupidity with a hidden smile. “How’re we gonna talk to you if you’re asleep.”
“Wait, what happened? I didn't see,” Takeomi joined in, panting as he held a couple of balloons that had ‘it's a boy!’ written all over them. “These two assholes left me while I was getting something to eat.”
The two of you groaned at the sound of his voice, pressing the heels of your hands against while Shinichiro hid his eyes behind his forearm. Even if you wanted to be lowkey about the whole situation, sweep it under the rug to avoid facing the embarrassment over again, you knew you wouldn't be able to hide it from anyone, not even Takeomi, and he wasn’t the brightest. 
Shinichiro’s hair was a tousled mess and his skin was dusted pink. Both of your lips were puffy, glistening under the fluorescent lights, and your breathing was uneven still. No matter how much the two of you tried to regulate it back to normal, it seemed to follow the rapid rhythm of each other’s heart beat.
“Nothing happened.” You grumbled, willing to attempt a lousy cover up in spite of your friend’s, including Shinichiro, giggling. Once he found out, it would be impossible for him to let it go. But even so, it took a lot of effort not to join in your friends’ laughter; it was funny to fuck with him—not literally—his puzzled frown as he borderline begged for someone to let him only feeding in your teasing. Still, once he found out. “We were just talking.”
“Yeah, talking about fuck–”
“Wakasa!” “Dude!” 
The two of you exclaimed as the blond tilted his head to the side, making his earring jingle. A teasing smile stretched on his lips as the four of you waited for Takeomi to process what was just mentioned. Knowing the speed in which the neurons within his brain transported information, it’d take a little while.
To everyone’s surprise, it only took him a couple of seconds to do so. You could visibly see it in his expression, morphing into one of amazement the minute realisation hit him straight in the face
“Did’ya– No way, you finally fucked?” And though his lack of decorum made the two men beside him laugh louder and the two of you groan as if to muffle his voice, he paid your reaction no mind other than using it as an affirmative response to his question. “No way, congrats dude! Who would’ve thought you needed to almost die just to lose your virginity.”
“I hate you so much.” Shinichiro playfully complained, a stupid grin threatening to make its way onto his lips disproving his claim. Seeing his four best friends standing around him right after waking up from what could’ve been a tragic accident made him feel all sorts of things he found himself unable to explain. It almost made him want to cry once again—happy tears this time.
“Anyway, now that you’ve got someone to stay with,” you changed the topic, interrupting yourself to fix the stray hairs sitting on top of Shinichiro’s head before caressing his cheek with your thumb, “I’ll go check whatever Keisuke’s doing, I‘ll be back in a sec.”
“Wait no, don’t go…” You had to resist the urge to give him another quick peck at the way he dragged out the ‘go’, and instead, grabbed your phone from his bedside table to respond to the missed messages coming from your mom. “Don’t leave me with these people.”
“Very funny Shitty-chiro.” Takeomi fake laughed, letting himself fall on one of the chairs nearby, stretching his arms before fully slumping against the backrest and looking at you. “But’s fine, I left Haruchiyo in charge, Senju’s with them as well.”
“Well that doesn't make things any better, does it.” At your snapping voice, he raised his hands up in surrender, as if the idea of letting a 13 year-old in charge of two 12 year-olds didn't have multiple flaws. Doing a 180° turn, you turned towards Shinichiro, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze. “I’ll be quick, promise.”
“Wait, before you go,” Wakasa interrupted, stopping you from slinging your bag over your shoulder. He took the bright red candy out of his mouth with a pop, using it as a little wand to emphasise his speech, before he continued. “Who confessed first?”
“Yeah!” Takeomi sat at the end of his seat, gaze switching from Shinichiro to you and vice versa. “How did Shinichiro confess to ya’?”
Again, faster than the usual processing speed of his cognitive skills, he managed to string the hints together, gasping at the silence that settled between the two of you as you tried to silently decide who should say what. Shinichiro opened his mouth like a fish, as if trying to come up with something to appease his friend’s reaction before giving up and averting his eyes, pointing at you with his thumb.
Wakasa’s smirk only grew the more Takeomi seemed to sink back into the chair in dejection. “‘gotta pay up Omi-omi.”
The ruffling of bills and the complaints birthed out of the apparent loser’s mouth distracted you momentarily. You were about to laugh at the scene in front of you, two of them waiting with their hands stretched out as Takeomi reluctantly placed the wrong amount in his palm, grunting when Wakasa noticed it wasn’t the amount they had agreed on, before it clicked in your head.
“Pay up,” you mumbled to yourself, “Pay up, pay up? Wait, did you three bet on us?”
“Kinda,” Benkei sent you a reassuring smile, counting the hundred yen bills that were handed to him once again; when it came to money matters, Takeomi wasn’t someone you could trust. “We bet on who’d confess first.”
“And you didn’t bet on me?!” Shinchiro exclaimed, a little louder than he intended.
“Sorry man, ‘didn't have faith in you,” Wakasa folded the five crinkled bills in half before stashing them in his back pocket. “After your failed attempt I kinda accepted you weren’t going to win, Benkei was always betting against you, though.”
“But ‘ya admit it!” Takeomi jumped from his seat, waving his now empty wallet in the air like he was fencing with the worn out leather rectangle. “He did confess first!”
“Hell no, it only counts if it was a successful confession.”
“So the bet wouldn’t count if one of them got rejected? What's the point then!”
Wakasa groaned, pressing his temples with his thumb and middle finger, “It only counts if the two of them understand whatever was done was a confession.”
“But the lighter was him confessing!”
“Takeomi, that was the vaguest confession to ever be seen by the entirety of mankind.”
“What confession are you talking about…?” You interrupted the animated discourse with a question. In spite of enjoying the banter between your friends, you remained in the dark. Shinichiro had never confessed to you, or even remotely tried to do so. You were a hundred percent certain, after all, had he done so you were sure you’d be dating by now. 
“The lighter you always carry around,” Takeomi responded, “the fish one.”
Instinctively, you patted the pocket where your zippo lighter sat, carefully trailing your thumb lightly over the red imprints as you pulled it out. It looked almost exactly the same way as it did during the summer festival. The only difference, aside from the way the metal reflected the cold hospital lights instead of fireworks and paper lanterns, were the couple of dents on the metal and the previously well-defined engraving softening over the years.
“S‘not just a fish,” Shinichiro chuckled, letting himself fall back on the bed while hiding his flustered state behind a seemingly lame explanation. At this rate, he was sure his skin could be permanently stained a pinkish-red. “It's a red koi fish.”
“Wait,” you snapped your head from the lighter to him, letting your mouth fall open in surprise, “you, you meant that?”
“What do you…mean?” Shinichiro poked, voice twisting and forcing the ‘mean’ to come out strained. Watching your shoulders tense up and, somehow, simultaneously relaxed made him wary of the whole situation, like the universe itself was playing a prank on him. And though unlikely, he wasn't ruling out the possibility of random cameras popping up from behind the door or through the window or maybe from underneath his bed with a huge poster reading ‘you’ve been pranked!’.
He had given you that lighter seven years ago, the engravings were probably faded by now, there was no way…
“Red koi fish mean romantic love, don’t they?” 
It took him a couple of seconds to properly run your words through his brain, before his eyes widened in amusement mixed with the mild disappointment his seventeen year-old-self had forced himself to ignore after his confession had gone wrong. “You knew!?” 
“Uh…yeah? We learned that in literature class.” You shrugged with a sheepish smile in an attempt to tame down the laughter that had started bubbling in your throat at his mortified reaction. He groaned at your response, throwing one of his arms over his eyes, the sound mixing with a cry as the movement pulled on the IV digging into his arm.
He licked his lips a couple of times and rubbed the skin above the needle in an attempt to soothe the ache. Stalling, he was trying to buy time before he asked anything that could potentially hurt him. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Aside from flustered and pouty, slightly amused at his own failed attempt, he appeared to be a little sullen, perhaps even sad. It was obvious to you, though you didn’t know why; maybe he was blaming himself for losing the opportunity to get in a relationship with you way earlier. Or, maybe he blamed himself for putting any sort of pressure on you; back then, he wasn’t a hundred percent sure how you felt about him, so maybe you had purposely ignored his advances because you didn't want him. But that couldn’t be it, could it? Less than a couple of minutes ago the two of you were confessing your love for each other, so if that were to be the case, when did your feelings for him start to change? “Did, uh, did you not like me back then?”
Looking at his hopeful yet gloomy expectant features, he appeared so small and vulnerable in front of you, you wanted to give him a hug. The question had visibly caught you off-guard, your brows furrowing as soon as he was done talking. Who would’ve thought that a seemingly innocuous event from your past would come back transformed into an apparent irrational insecurity. It prompted yet another silence upon the two of you. And though it felt eternal, it lasted only a couple of milliseconds, interrupted by both your annoyance and Takeomi munching on the chips he bought at an inflated price on one of the hospital’s vending machines. 
“Do you mind?” You turned towards the obnoxious mistake you had chosen as a friend, snickering as he shrugged in questionable indifference, mumbling a muffled ‘go on’ before motioning you two to continue with a shake of his hand. But at the lack of positive feedback from anyone in the room he stopped himself to explain.
“What? It’s like watching a live romcom,” he shoved more chips into his mouth, “The ones we watch every friday, ‘ya know what I mean?”
“Okay,” Benkei clapped both his hands together, gathering everyone’s attention before he pulled Takeomi into a standing position and pushed both him and an amused Wakasa towards the door. “Seems like all of us are hungry, we’re heading to the cafeteria real quick, we’ll send Baji back up when we’re done, sounds good?”
“Sounds good, thanks, Benkei.” You smiled at him, watching the three of them leave and sighing in satisfaction when you saw the way the gentle-giant punched Takeomi’s arm once they were far enough for his complaints to appear silent. “But to answer your question,” you turned towards Shinichiro once again, sitting at the edge of the bed and resting your hand on top of his. You could see the way he visibly relaxed against your touch, the warmth of your skin coaxing his insecurities away little by little. “I did like you very much back then, too much for it to be considered healthy, I'm pretty sure…”
“Why didn’t you say anything then?”
“Well, I, you know,” you stumbled over your words, suddenly feeling the embarrassment for your younger self was all over you. Why didn’t you say anything? Well, in hindsight, you didn’t think Shinchiro had it in him to use a literary reference as a means of confession. Not because he was stupid, that was Takeomi's role, but because it was very un-Shinichiro. You had been witness to the countless failed confession attempts and nothing included anything as subtle and detailed as the lighter he had gifted you. Back then, he professed his brimming infatuation with an honest smile, the well-rehearsed question ‘would you go out with me?’ and absolutely nothing else. And though the ‘courting’ period included him acting all whipped and soft, he was usually very blunt when it came to asking people out, gentle but direct. 
Although, thinking about it a little bit more in depth, he had always been very romantic, sometimes cringy with the shitty pick up lines, but during movie nights he had always chosen movies with clear romantic subplots, and you can recall that one romance poetry book he kept borrowing from the library, unable to finish it before returning it—at least that’s what you thought, by the amount of times he had taken it home.
When you were both in middle school and high school, he would watch couples holding hands with a gentle smile, sometimes going as far as spacing out and letting a dreamy sigh fall from his lips—he always brushed off the person asking the reason behind his sighing, but you were paying attention to him more often than not, so of course you knew—and of course, you couldn’t forget the many times he had shared hypothetical scenarios with the four of you, most of them consisting of him fantasising out loud the sort of dates he’d like to have with his hypothetical s/o or what he would do for them before being relentlessly teased by all of you.
So, in retrospect, him trying to confess through a pretty much evident symbol extracted from one of your favourite books was a very un-Shinichiro, Shinichiro thing to do, if that made any sense. 
“I think…I might’ve gaslit myself into believing it was a coincidence, didn't wanna get my hopes up.”
“I thought, I– I thought it was pretty obvious that I liked you.” He chuckled, scooting to the side in order to make more space for you to lay, next to him, the same you had done most of the days you had spent here. “Everybody knew I did.”
“Wait, really? I thought you were being friendly!” You let out a laugh, watching him soften up even more at your obliviousness and simultaneously hold back laughter of his own. “Don’t laugh at me! You were flirtier with Wakasa than with me!”
“You can’t blame me!” He finally laughed along with you, interlocking your fingers together and pulling you close until you were squished next to him, and waited for you to get comfortable before continuing his spiel. “Waka’s my best friend, we’ve always been like that, and you know it.” He nuzzled his cheek against your head, muttering the words in the quietest way possible, like he didn’t want to be heard by anyone but you. “Plus I couldn't flirt with you, I'd blush and cry afterwards.”
“Yeah, I’d’ve cried if you flirted with me as well.”
“Hey!”
“I mean it in a good way! Happy tears or whatever.” You sighed with a giddy grin, caressing his cheeks with the back of your hand before smushing them together, forcing a pout and giving him a quick peck on the lips. “I promise I’ll forever be in love with you.”
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theladybarnes · 2 months
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CRIMSON AND CLOVER: CHAPTER SIX
"Got me stressed out. It's not even my girlfriend.”
▸ summary: it’s a mental game to get out of woods, and you need help bringing yourself back to earth. ▸ characters: steve harrington, eddie munson,dustin henderson, ft. robin buckley & max mayfield ▸ word count: 12.6k ▸ warnings: angst, semi-fluff, SMUT (MINORS DNI +18), mentions of death ▸ series masterlist
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“Flay this, you ugly piece of shit!”
 Your surroundings blurred as you stumbled against the railing in front of you. The air was thick with bitter smoke, and the distant cracking of fireworks reverberated through the air.  You’ve been here before. This was Starcourt Mall. 
 The night you all faced the Mind Flayer.
 In disbelief, you watched as your friends frantically threw fireworks at the colossal creature on the ground floor. Their faces etched with determination and words filled with anger. The Mind Flayer writhed and snarled from below. Whipping its gaze at all the directions the attacks were coming from.
 A surge of confusion swept over you. How the hell were you back here? Was this a dream? It had to be. The mall, the flayer– it all felt too surreal to be real. Yet, the vividness of the moment, the heat of the fireworks, and the urgency in your friends' voices made it impossible to dismiss as just imagination.
 There was a lull in the attack that you were able to hear your name being called out.
 The voice was unmistakable. Billy. 
 His desperate cries echoed through the chaos, adding to the overwhelming sense of dread. Slowly, you approached the edge of the railing to peer down below. 
 "Help me! Babydoll, please!” His desperate pleas cut through the chaos. “Don't let it get me!" 
 Your gaze locked onto the unfolding horror below as one of the Mind Flayer's tendril arms snaked around Billy, pulling him helplessly toward its gaping mouth. Billy's terrified screams resonated through the air, pleading for salvation. Your heart pounded in your chest, urging you to move quickly. But an invisible force seemed to paralyze you, rendering you powerless to intervene.
 As the monstrous entity snarled at Billy, the scene descended into a nightmarish mess. Walls turning dark red with the light slowly fading to the center of the room. Unable to witness his gruesome fate again, you fell backward in fear, the world around spiraling into darkness.
 However, the horror didn't end there. 
 Your friends, done with their attack to the flayer, all slowly crowded towards you. Surrounding you in a circle of their judgmental gazes before they pointed down to you. Shouting out their accusing cries. "WHY WON’T YOU SAVE HIM?" they demanded in a chorus of eerie, distorted voices. The weight of their accusations pressed upon you, suffocating you with guilt and terror that kept you on the floor. It gave them a better chance to close in on you as they shouted out more claims.
 “HE LOVED YOU!”
 “HE WANTED YOU!” 
 HE DIED BECAUSE OF YOU!”
 Your jaw slacked at their words. Confusion in the mix of your fear as you tried to reach out to them. Hands shaking as you pleaded for them to realize the truth. “I didn’t want him to die! I don’t want anyone to die!” 
 Surely your friends would never think that about you. They had to know!
 Amidst the continuing cries, was one familiar voice shouting at you. Steve, who was silent until now, emerged from the nightmarish crowd, his face contorted with anguish as he kneeled down beside you. 
 "Why won't you save us?" He asked desperately, hands cupping around your shoulders. “You’re leaving us to die!” 
 When you didn’t say anything back he began to glare at you, words coming out in a spit as he gripped hard against you. “WHY WON’T YOU SAVE US?” His final yell echoed across the whole mall and in a final surge of terror, the world around you collapsed. 
 You jolted awake, gasping for breath as you forward. The world around me blurred as you slapped down against the dashboard. It took you a second to realize that you weren’t just sitting on the mall floor but in a moving car. 
 “Thank God!” 
 Eddie, who looked as sick as you felt, was behind the wheel, driving erratically as if the police were hot on your heels. Chrissy's contorted body flashed in your thoughts, reminding you of the horror you had just witnessed in the trailer.
 "Jesus Christ, slow down, Eddie!" you croaked out, voice tinged with a mix of fear and anger. "What the hell happened? Where are we?"
 Eddie's eyes darted toward you for a moment, his hands white as he held on the steering wheel tightly. "We didn’t have a choice, okay? We needed to get out of there before whatever killed Chrissy came for us too!”
 “B-but she’s back there!” you cried out, heart torn between the urgency of escape and the idea of abandoning Chrissy alone. “We can't just leave her there alone like that!"
 "We can't get caught up in this," Eddie insisted, frustration etched across his face. "You think anyone will believe I didn't have anything to do with it? Freak of the town, ring a bell?!"
 The reality of the situation hit you like a punch to the gut. But that was slowly pushed back when you realize just how far out of the main part of town you guys are at. You reached out to Eddie’s arm, tugging at it quickly. 
 “Eddie, tell me you’re not leaving town.”
 “All right, I’m not leaving town.” he said sarcastically, pressing down harder onto the pedal. The road began to blur and you could feel the anxiety grow in the pit of your stomach. 
 “We cannot leave town, Eddie! Turn back!” you urged. 
 His gaze shifted away, guilt and fear written all over his face. "Look, I know it’s bad. But I–we can’t risk it. Not when we don’t even know what the hell happened!”
 “It doesn’t matter! Turn back now!” The two of you are so busy glaring at each other that you both failed to notice the van veering off the road. "Shit, watch out!" you shouted as you finally registered what was about to happen.
 Eddie tried his best to press down on the brake and slow down the speed of the van, but to your horror, it only skidded over the long grass of Hawkin’s massive forest. Panic surged through you as the van rushed towards a tree, and you braced for impact.
 The world blurred as the van crashed through the underbrush, the sound of crunching metal and snapping branches deafening. In the midst of the chaos, you clung to your seat, desperate for it to stop. It wasn’t until one final forward thrust that the van finally stopped. Leaving you gasping for air again.
 The scene felt oddly familiar to your own car accident years ago. But there’s no flashing lights, and your father wasn’t on his way to help you. The only thing waiting for you was the looming dark forest that swallowed up the lights from the headlights. 
 "Shit," Eddie's voice trembled with fear as he finally released his tight grip from the wheel. "Someone’s gonna see this. Come on, we can't stay here."
 He threw open the door, while you stumbled out. The world spun wildly and it took you a minute to control the overstimulating thoughts and memories flooding your brain to register that Eddie was in front of you now. “I-I can’t..” you whimpered, hands reaching out to him. 
 You closed your eyes, feeling his hands cup around the sides of your face as he waited for you to calm down. It was only a second later that you opened them again to see the look of concern on his face. “I’m sorry,” he breathed, shaking his head. “We still have to go.”
 Reaching down for your hands, he made sure to lace them together before he led the two of you away from the van towards the trees. “Wait, shouldn’t we go back on the road?” you asked, trying to keep up with his pace. The uneven forest floor beneath your feet felt foreign and slippery. Making it hard to try and keep up with your friend who had now moved on to mumbling to himself.
 "Eddie, slow down! I don't know these woods!" you cried out, breath catching in your throat.
 He didn't hear you, or maybe he didn't care. Eddie was on a mission, leading the two of you deeper into the wilderness. "I know a safe place, just keep up!"
 But the dense foliage and the unfamiliar terrain took on your already unsteady balance. You stumbled over a protruding root, hands reaching out to break the fall. The grass was moist beneath your fingers and you took a second to close your eyes to stop the world from spinning again. Eddie continued on without noticing, his footsteps fading in the distance while you struggled to regain footing.
 "Eddie! Wait!" you called out. The only response was the eerie silence of the woods. Taking a few long strides in, you called out for your friend again, hoping your voice was loud enough to break through the trees. 
 “EDDIE!”
 It’s only a matter of seconds before you’re lost, alone, and terrified. Still, you picked yourself up, desperately searching through the thicket for any sign of your friend. The trees loomed like shadows, and panic clung to you like a suffocating shroud. He couldn’t have just left you behind right? But the more you walked, the louder you called out, the more you were hit with the realization.
 You were stranded in a place you didn’t know, alone without your friend, and cold from the night sky. But the worst part of all, was the light echoes of a ticking clock in the distance.
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 Exhausted and disoriented, you stumbled into the main street of town as the evening sun began to break through the trees. Your clothes were damp, feet sore from your terrible choice in shoes, and body shivering from the cold night in the woods. 
 It’s not like you had any choice. With the road being too dangerous at that time of night to hitchhike, your only other safe solution was to tough the walk through the woods and hope you’d find the outskirts of town soon enough. 
 You’re embarrassed to say that despite your usual sense of direction, you managed to circle around the woods a few times. Making your arrival into town at a much later time than you’d have preferred. But at least you were back. Better than another night trying to ignore the various noises and whispers the woods had to offer to you.
 It wasn’t like you had any help at all considering that at no point in the night did Eddie try and find you. 
 Still, you pulled through and despite the sleepiness, the hunger, and the aches, you were determined to get yourself home. But that plan seemed to come with a few complications.
 With every store you passed, every street corner, the townspeople of Hawkins seemed to be highly aware of how out of place you looked right now. One glance at the hardware store window and you were shocked to find just how disheveled and weary you looked, confirming your guesses to their curious gazes.
 You had to get home. You needed to get Dustin and figure out what to do about this mess.
 So without wasting time, you made your way towards the bus stop that stopped nearest to your house. But just as you were about to ask around for some possible bus fare, there was a loud honk that caught your attention.
 “Honey!?”
 You turned on your heel, scanning through the small group of passengers to try to find the familiar voice calling out to you. Around the corner of the block stood Steve. Your eyes met and you could see that along with the worrisome look on his face was a bit of shock. Possibly from your appearance. 
 The two of you don’t waste a second to make your way to each other. Steve even went as far to run over to you before he stood before you.
 "What the hell happened to you? Dustin told me he hasn’t seen you since yesterday. Are you okay?" His eyes scanned over your figure, possibly trying to find an injury that matched with your current state of appearance. Without waiting for an answer, he pulled you into his arms, letting his hand cradle the back of your head as he pressed your face into his chest.
 You couldn’t help it as you allowed yourself to hug him back. Seeking comfort in his arms after the night you had. The scent of his cologne and heat from his chest felt amazing against your cold skin and it wasn't until he pulled back that you realized you were shaking from the weather. 
 He quickly shed off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, providing a better warmth over your shivering arms. He was still waiting for you to answer, only raising a brow to you as he cupped the side of your cheek gently. 
 There’s a weak attempt at trying to smile. To let him know that you were okay. But you weren’t. At least mentally you weren’t. Not when you couldn’t stop replaying the events that happened just last night. It only felt even more overwhelming now that you had Steve of all people worried over you again.  “I’m sorry.” you croaked, unable to stop the guilt from coming through. “We got in an accident and then we–I got lost in the woods."
 Steve's eyes widened in disbelief. "Accident? Lost in the woods? What were you doing out there? Are you hurt?" He glanced around, noticing that there were a few people eavesdropping into the conversation. He carefully pulled you away from the bus stop towards the other direction. “Did he do this? Did Eddie do this?”
 "No,” you answered right away, not needing for that vine to tangle up in this mess. “I can't explain everything right now. It's complicated," you replied, voice shaky from exhaustion. "Please..I just need to get home.."
 For a moment he looked even more worried if possible, but instead of pressing on, he merely rubbed his thumb against the apple of your cheek before nodding his head.
 "Alright, Honey.” Steve said more softly now, gesturing towards his car. “Let’s get you home." His concern was genuine, and despite the awkwardness that should be between the two of you, the only thing you could feel from Steve now was comfort.
 And that was all you’d focus on right now.
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 It didn’t take long for Steve to get you home. In fact, you’re pretty sure he broke the speed limit a couple of times on the road. Not that you’d press him about it right now. All you wanted was to get inside your house. Where you could hopefully recollect yourself into a person again.
 Despite being in the comforts of being around Steve, you were still finding it hard to come back down from the overwhelming anxiety that still ached inside of you. It was almost like you were stuck on autopilot as you exited the car.
 Steve was quick to return to your side. Gentle like before as he wrapped an arm to lead you towards the front door. A glance up and you can see him sporting his frustrated frown despite the kind voice he used with you.  
 A step to the front door and you could hear the phone ringing inside, blaring loudly into the empty home “My key.” you whispered softly to yourself, trying to check over the pockets of your dirty dress. But all your things were gone. You’re not even sure when or where you’ve managed to lose everything. 
 “It’s okay.” Steve reassured you, carefully letting go to walk over to the potted plants your Aunt had placed this past summer. “The spare’s right here.” 
 You watched quietly as Steve moved over a ceramic frog to reveal the hidden key. It was just a couple of months ago, before the end of Summer, that you had revealed its secret spot to him. Telling him he was more than welcomed to use it any time he needed to.
 He had joked that you might get tired of his surprise visits if he had a way in every time. You happily told him that it’d be impossible, but if he really wanted to surprise you, there was always your bedroom window.
 “Come on,” he said, pulling you out of the memory. “Let’s get you warmed up.” 
 As the two of you entered the home, you glanced around with uncertainty. Unsure of where you should even start on your previous night considering the heavy load it came with. But before either of you could even touch on the subject, the shrill ring of the phone interrupted the silence again.
 Steve held a hand up, quietly offering to take the call as he picked up the phone from the small table.
 He muttered out a half greeting before sighing deeply. “Yeah, she’s here.” he said calmly to the receiver. "Yeah, I found her near Main… No, she's not hurt, I think, just shaken up… I don't know what happened, man. She hasn’t had a second to really explain..”
 You could hear the muffled voice of Dustin on the other end, bombarding Steve with questions you’re sure he doesn't have many answers to. Steve glanced over his shoulder, noting you quietly observing him before he motioned for you to go clean up. “Go ahead, I’ll be here when you get out.” he whispered.
 With that reassurance, you gave him a quick nod, grateful for his patience, and headed towards the bathroom. Once you closed the door and undressed yourself, you finally got the chance to really check over your appearance. The mirror reflected a face unfamiliar to you. One that wasn’t its usual confident self, but of someone who was scared.
 You didn’t like looking at that face. 
 Shielding your gaze away from the mirror, you quickly stepped in started up the shower.
 The hot water felt good as it cascaded over you. Washing away any dirt and grime that clung to your skin from the long night in the woods. That and the loofah you were scrubbing hard against your skin. Every swipe of sudsy soap would reveal a red burning skin that let you know it was fresh and clean.
 “Chrissy! Wake up! CHRISSY!”
 You nearly dropped the bottle of body wash from your hands as your mind flashed over the haunting images from before. The harsh, supernatural force that took Chrissy’s body so effortlessly as she hung in the air like a puppet. The sounds of her bones breaking echoed above the noisy shower. 
 Eddie’s screams came into your mind, almost like speakers pressed against your ears and you dropped everything to cover them up. Muttering for them to just go away. But it won’t stop. Every attempt to focus was met with the flashbacks that persisted. Each replay was more vivid than the last. The flash image of Chrissy's contorted body, the way her eyes sunk into her head, it all made you feel trapped in a nightmare from which there was no escaping. 
 You gotta get out. 
 You have to leave.
 You need to RUN.
 “Honey?”
 The clear sound of Steve’s voice brought everything to halt. Your eyes snapped open to watch as a hand reached past the shower curtain to turn off the water, cutting off the remaining sound in the room. Hesitantly you pulled back the plastic curtain a bit to peek out. 
 Steve was standing there, concern etched on his face again, but this time with his eyes cast down to avoid your naked form while he held up a towel.
 "Are you okay?" he asked softly. There’s a vulnerability in his voice that was unexpected, and you nodded as you reached out for the towel to wrap around yourself. 
 Finally he glanced back at you, giving you a once over as his hand extended out for you while carefully helping you exit the shower. With a small gesture towards the door, he helped usher you over to your bedroom. 
 The amount of patience and kindness that Steve was giving you today had your emotions turning erratic again. The mixture of your previous fear along with the current gratitude and embarrassment that came from having him see you like this.
 Once in the room, he let go of you, almost turning to leave before he sighed and returned back before you. Having had enough of the uneasy silence. 
 "I need to know what’s going on, Trouble. I know you were there in the trailer. What happened?”
 His eyes searched at yours for answers. But you found yourself hesitating, unsure of how to put it into words. Despite Steve being completely aware of things such as the upside down, hell, even your past, this was the one time it felt..unreal.
 "I don’t know if you’ll believe me, Steve. It’s..unlike anything we’ve seen.” you stammered, voice barely above a whisper. His concern deepened, and he urged you to continue with a light nod.
 "Chrissy... she..." You struggled to find the right words, your mind still clouded with only flashes of what you had witnessed. "She was taken by this force, this... I don't even know how to describe it. It just pulled her in the air..it twisted her, Steve. It was so fast..in mere seconds she was gone and crumpled to the ground. I've never been so terrified in my life."
 You didn’t even realize you were crying until Steve had stepped over to wipe at your cheeks. His face was even more grave than before as he looked down at you. He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours, and said, "You’re safe now. You’re not there anymore.”
 “But safe from what, Steve? We don’t even know how or why it happened!” you whispered, feeling your throat choke up as the emotions you had been holding finally poured out. “One minute she’s just there inside with Eddie, and the next I hear screaming and she’s not talking! She was here but gone at the same time.” 
 Steve moved to wrap his arms around you, pulling you back into his chest to stop from shaking. “Did he say anything?..Do you know if he?..”
 “No, Eddie didn’t do this, Steve!” you pulled back from the hug to look up. “He was just as terrified as I was..it wasn’t him. I-I swear!”
 “I believe you, it’s okay.” he said quickly, noticing your sudden panic. But it's too late and you’re feeling the air around you turn thick, unable to get it in your lungs.
 “I can’t breathe, Steve!” You gasped, moving your hands to grip tightly at his arms. His presence alone was keeping you grounded before, but everything seemed to be crashing down at this moment. Your attempts to breathe mixing with crying only made things worse.
 “Breathe with me.” He shushed, pushing his forehead to press against yours. The palms of his warm hands wrapped around your shoulders and he tugged you closer to keep you from getting any colder. 
 But the fear persisted, and your sobs grew louder. It was then that Steve cupped at your face and planted a soft but deep kiss to your lips. Catching you off guard enough that your mind frazzled into focusing only on the touch of his skin to yours before he pulled back.
 "Why did you..." you began to ask, voice trailing off.
 "I just needed to help bring you back down to me," Steve whispered, his eyes searching yours. Almost as if he were afraid he had crossed a line. The two of you silently shared a moment of silence before you gave a quick nod.
 "Right," you managed to say, still grateful despite the unconventional method. 
 Steve remained close to you. "Are you?" he asked calmly.
 “Am I what?”
 “Here with me?”
 When you don’t answer, he sighed softly, enveloping you in his arms. The natural heat of his body called out to you and you reached out to hold onto him desperately. Seeking all the familiar comforts that came with Steve. The scent of his cologne, the warmth of his skin, the cotton of his shirt. It was impossible for you not to inhale all of it.
 He rested his chin against the side of your head, holding you tightly as his arms traced soothing patterns across the bare skin that peeked on the top of the towel. Something inside you is sparked and any sane conscious thought is out the window.
 You don’t want to feel this fear anymore. You just want to feel like yourself again. 
 Even if just for a moment. 
 Pulling away, you reached up, brought his face close and kissed him. 
 It was nothing like the shared kiss you had moments before. It was intense. Needy. All the emotions that the two of you seemed to share as you both clung onto one another. 
 His hands trailed down from your back to rest at your hips. The tip of his fingers dug lightly as he attempted to control whatever urge he had. Your own hands had the same problem as they crawled up to tangle in the ends of his soft hair. Tugging hard enough that caused him to groan against your lips. He broke the kiss apart to pull back. 
 “We’re being stupid right now, aren’t we?” he asked, hot breath fanning over you.
 “Yeah,” you breathed, eyes flicking down to his pink lips. “Incredibly stupid.”
 Reaching down between your bodies, you pulled the towel off from your skin, giving him a full view of yourself.
 He sucked in a sharp breath at the sight, eyes scanning down your body that had you flushed. Nodding his head to himself, he reached and grabbed your face with both hands and kissed you again. 
 Frantically, his own desperation kicked in and he doesn’t even give himself a second to properly shed off his own clothing. Making you have to be the one to pull back and help strip him down. Once he was down to nothing, he resumed pressing his lips against yours. Using one of his hands to cradle the back of your head and the other to press your body against his.
 The contrast of your cold body to his hot one had you both shivering as you stumbled backwards towards the bed. It wasn’t until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed that he carefully pushed you to lay down. 
 Your back met with the comforter of your bed quickly and you gazed up to watch as Steve slowly came onto the bed, kneeling just before your legs. Though you’re both naked and practically panting with want, there’s a small flicker of concern on his face again.
 “Say it,” he begged, voice slightly cracked from being out of breath and from the hurt that lingered in his tone. “Say that you want this too.”
 “I want this.” you nodded, spreading your legs open for him. His eyes widened at the sight of you. His hand instantly reached out to rub down the expanse of your bare thigh. Your heart began to beat rapidly at the dark desire that flickered in his gaze. “I want you, Steve.”
 He groaned at that, leaning down so that he could lay on top of you. His lips were back onto yours once again, tracing his tongue at your lips until you parted yours and allowed him the chance to swirl it against yours. The sensation had you feeling lightheaded. Your hands wrapped around his shoulders, fingers digging lightly into his bare skin. 
 The light graze of his hardened cock brushing lightly against your inner thigh had you jumping back in surprise. Pulling back from his kiss, you looked down between the two of you, reaching down and taking hold of his member in your hands. 
 “Fuck, honey.” Steve whimpered, “It’s been so long.”
 The tip of his cock was already red, aching to be touched and dripping with excitement. The pad of your thumb swirled over the glaze of precum. You used its slickness to help glide your hand over the base of his member. Jerking it up and down lightly while you watched Steve’s face for his reaction.
 He emitted a sweet moan that had you biting down on your lip to keep from joining him. His hips jerked with every tug you gave and you knew it wouldn’t be long for him to take control again. So you enjoyed your time, leaning down his neck to kiss at his hot skin while you worked him to a full erection. 
 “I’ve missed this.” you muttered softly, kissing up the line of freckles and moles that adorned his neck. 
 “Me too.” he gritted, hands now gripped at your hips to control himself from thrusting into your fingers. “But I’ve missed something else even more.”
 One of his hands pulled away from your side so that he could release himself from your hold and slide down until they reached your aching core. The slick glaze of your arousal spread quickly over his fingers, giving him the chance to swirl around your folds.
 “Steve,” you whimpered, feeling already so sensitive and desperate for release. Any more of the simple touches and you were embarrassed to say you’d come undone easily. “I need you.” 
 “You have me.” he promised, as. he brought the tips of his fingers up to his mouth, sucking any bit of you that was left on them. “All of me.”
 With that he reached between you and easily guided his aching erection to glide against your slick folds. Teasing not only himself but you in the process as he worked you two up. You leaned up on your elbow to pull him down again, pressing your lips together as your hips instinctively thrust upward to him.
 He didn’t break the kiss, but he did stop his hips in time to finally press the tip of his cock at your entrance and slowly thrust in. The walls of your pussy reacted instantly to his member again. Tightening around his long thick size until he was fully sheathed inside of you. 
 Shocked, you gasped and looked up at him, eyes clouded with a familiar desire. It had been quite some time since you’ve felt this full and with every small nudge, Steve managed to bottom his way in. “God, you’re so tight,” he shuddered, bucking his hips for a moment before he wrapped an arm around the side of your waist. “So hot and tight for me.”
 “Steve,” you whimpered, hips rolling on their own accord before you forced your body to relax. “I need, fuck, I need–” you begged, practically desperate for him to make any movement now. 
 “Need what, honey?” he said, moving his hands to place down at your hips, a small thrust to get you moving a little. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”
 “Move.” you said finally, nails digging into his shoulders now. 
 That was all he needed to hear before he began to move again. He slid out- and back in, with more force this time, causing you to shudder beneath him. The pleasure was strong this time, possibly with how desperate you’ve become since entering the room. You leaned up, clinging around his arms to hold him close. 
 Every part of his warm body felt like a cover from the world. A cover from the dread that wanted to eat at you that only he seemed to be able to pull you out of. It was all you wanted to focus on, all you could focus on. 
 Steve dropped his face into your neck, murmuring something against your skin before he kissed at the flesh gently. “Yours.” he said eventually, another thrust back. He picked his head back up to look down at you. One arm had you pressed close to his body, making you feel every part of him while the other leaned on his elbow to give him a chance to look down at you. “I’m yours.”
 You gazed up into his eyes, one hand letting go of his shoulders to cup at his cheek. “Mine.” you agreed, pressing your lips to his. 
 His pace quickened up at that, goading him into another set of emotions. 
 You wrapped legs around his waist. Keeping yourself from moving away from him as his quick thrusts that pushed you higher up in the bed. His name fell past your lips in a long moan, unable to think of any other words. It was like all you could do was think and speak his name. 
 Whether it be from your shifting feelings, or the fact that Steve was going at such a fast pace, the two of you seemed to be closer to your release than expected. He dropped his head down, pressing a few loving kisses to the apex of your breasts. He groaned your name against the pebble of your breast, nipping at the sensitive bud before he returned back to your face. Kissing your lips and cheeks over and over until he had to pull back to breathe again.
 “I can’t hold on much longer, baby.” you warned, leaning up to press a kiss to his shoulder.
 “Me either.” he nodded, taking a quick pause to look down at you. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but settled with dropping down to meld your lips once again. One of his hands let go of your waist to slip between the two of you, and you soon felt the familiar pad of Steve’s thumb press against your clit. 
 Without a wasted second, he began to roll the sensitive bud in a circular motion while thrusting into you at a more brutal pace. 
 The whole world is gone and all you could feel now was the intense orgasm as it washed over your body. Back arching up to him as you cried out in ecstasy against his lips. Your palms clasped his back, pressing yourself even more if possible to meet up with his final thrusts.
 He whimpered into your lips, pulling back to allow his face to fall against your neck and catch his breath while he shot his cum into your core. The thrusts slowed down and soon enough you only rolled your hips lightly against him to ride out the rest of the euphoria with him. 
 It was only a second that the two of you said nothing. Both of you seemingly unsure how to process the intensity that the sex brought. 
 His head lifted back up, looking down at you intently before gently pulling himself out of you. The sudden pressure change had you let out a small whimper and Steve returned to leaning back on his knees. His gaze was locked over your figure and you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed to look so wrecked. 
 But Steve doesn’t seem to think the same thing as he gently reached down, caressing the skin of your thighs. “You’re beautiful.” he said aloud, “So damn beautiful.” 
 Something sparked inside of you. Maybe the sincerity of his words, or the selfish need to be taken out of that deep sinking feeling that had its grip on you lately. Or maybe it was just because you wanted Steve and to ignore the reality that was outside the doors. 
 “Steve?” you asked softly, leaning up on your elbows.
 “Yeah?” he whispered back, looking at you with a small bit of concern again.
 “I’m still not here..”
 A small smile tugged at his lips before he nodded his head at you, crawling back up to climb over your body again. One of his hands crawled up this time to cup around your breast, kneading the muscle gently. 
 “Okay, honey. Let me try again.”
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 It’s embarrassing to say you two go for it another two times before you’re both satisfied. The sun was set even more into the evening and you glanced at the clock in time to see you’ve been here for over an hour.
 You collapsed forward, sagging into his arms. Your chest nearly heaving as you struggled to catch your breath after all the vigorous movements you two just did. He pressed his lips to your cheek, and it burned. Like a reminder of his presence there being nothing but a burning comfort to you. 
 Holding your heavy breath, you stopped moving around. Allowing his arms to wrap around your body and give you the chance to savor the moment for your memory. To use it when you needed a reminder of a time you felt this content. 
 Eventually he helped lift your tired body up enough that he was able to pull himself out of you, hissing a bit at the cold air before he laid you to return to resting on top of him. Grabbing your bare leg, he draped over his hips and kept you close to his side so that he could use your warm skin as a cover. You gently placed your head against his chest, hand up so that you could gently run your fingers through the curls that covered his pecs. The sound of his heart beat, your favorite sound, thumped lightly in your ears.
 “Talk to me.” he said before he kissed the smooth skin between your brows. 
 You lifted your head up to watch him. Not answering right away to gauge his reaction. He’s pretty calm considering what you two were just finished doing. Not hurt like you almost expected for him to be after having just used him. In fact, he was just looking down at you patiently, bringing a hand up to caress the side of your face while he waited. 
  Resting your chin on his chest, you sighed softly, not sure what to say next. 
 “I’m sorry.” you said hesitantly. “I know you were trying to calm me down. But I didn’t mean to just use you to make myself feel better. It was shitty of–”
 “I wanted it.” he interrupted you, a firmness in his voice. You glanced back to his gaze, noting the calm was replaced with a serious look. As if he were about to lose it if you went further on with your sentence.  “I needed it, actually.”
 This was all so overwhelming.
 The very idea that after pushing Steve away, practically forcing him and yourself to move on with others, the two of you still relied on each other to feel good in the end. You’ve never had this feeling with anyone before. It was scary. It was too real. 
 You opened your mouth, ready to set him up with another disappointing apology when he sprung forward to kiss you. Ceasing any words from making it past your lips as he captured the moment. Again you don’t fight against it. At this point you don’t think you can.
 Down the hall, the phone sprung to life again, pulling you both back to reality. The kiss had you breathless, staring up at Steve with wide eyes because he was doing it again. He was making you question every choice you’ve ever made.
 “It doesn’t have to mean anything. This whole thing could be nothing..” he said, looking at you with such fondness. “It’s just us helping each other. That’s it.”
 “But it isn’t nothing.” you whispered back, unable to hide the truth. “It never is with us.”
 He doesn’t say anything. Only taking a glance down the hall at the phone that’s still ringing. Reaching up, you cupped at the side of his face and made him look back at you, but all that does is create a pained look on his face. Like he was torn about something.
 “It’s probably Dustin.” he said eventually, reaching up to pull your hand away. “We’ve been here longer than expected. They’re probably waiting for us.”
 “They?” you asked, releasing him fully from his hold so that he could climb out of the bed to gather up his scattered clothes from the floor.
 “Robin, Max, and Dustin were trying to figure out where Eddie could be hiding before I left.” he said, watching you while he dressed himself. “Max saw Eddie running to his van last night in a panic. We’re gonna try and figure this out. Get his side of the story.”
 The mention of Eddie brought a sad dip to your stomach. It’s been hours since the two of you had lost each other and you weren’t sure if he was okay or not. Not to mention it had been hours and he didn’t exactly seek out to find you either..
 A glance up and you watched as Steve quickly fixed himself enough to look presentable. This time the guilt rolled in when you thought of the idea of Steve wasting precious time he could have been using to help with Eddie just to go out and try and find you. 
 “Right,” you nodded, climbing out of the bed. “We should probably go.”
 He didn’t say anything at first as you began to dress yourself, pulling on underwear and a bra. But it isn’t until you’re about to reach for a shirt that he stepped over and reached out to gently grab your hand. 
 “No one would be upset if you wanted to sit this one out, Trouble.” he said softly, turning you to face him again. “After everything you saw and been through..we can figure something out by ourselves”
 “Are you trying to say you don’t want my help?” you ask a little guarded. In all this time you two had been dealing with the kids and the upside down, Steve has never once been the one to push you out of things. Even last summer with the Russian’s invasion, he was insisting on you joining. What was different now?
 “I always want you and your help.” he said as matter of fact. “But I’m not gonna be selfish and force you to come out and join us when I know there’s something going on with you.”
 Just like the night before, Steve’s intuitive mind was working double time on you. But there isn’t much time left in the day to dive into that discussion and you’re worried about wasting more time by having Steve stand around and be concerned about you.
 “I wanna come.” you explained calmly, trying to sound more confident than you felt. “I need to help figure this out too.”
 Steve’s eyes watched you carefully, almost like he was waiting for you to crack. But when you continued to hold your gaze, he must have sensed you wouldn’t be cracking down any time. “I’ll wait in the car.” he said eventually, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek.
 After that, he left you to finish getting dressed and also give you a moment to collect yourself in preparation for facing the others. 
 If Steve was worried enough to venture out for you, and Dustin enough to be calling the house this much, then surely the others would be just the same. And while a part of you wanted to allow them in, even just a little, there were other important things now. 
 Like finding where Eddie was, and figuring out just what killed Chrissy.
 So with that determination, you quickly finished dressing and locked up the house on your way out. The air was chilly again and you shivered a bit as you made your way over to Steve’s car. He was adjusting the radio when you entered inside. Fiddling out with the knobs for a station that he liked.
 Thankfully the heater was already on. Helping thaw out your cold bones as you buckled in. Right away your eyes caught sight of something you didn’t seem to notice before in your dazed out mind. 
 Wrapped around the left side of the driver’s visor, was the gold necklace. The ‘S’ dangled just enough to shine in the bit of light that was left outside. You couldn’t help but watch it quietly, not sure what to think about him still having it. Steve didn’t seem to notice where your attention was as he turned to face you.
 “Ready to go?” he asked, settling on a soft rock station. You nodded your head slowly, forcing your eyes to look out towards the window.
 “As I’ll ever be.”
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 There is no real reunion when you finally get to picking up the others. Mostly, it was Robin taking control of the line of questioning. Which you were a little bit troubled with answering right away. Mostly because you needed to hear Eddie’s half to put all the pieces together.
 The rest of the car ride was spent being spooked by the empty lot that led over to Rick Lipton’s house. You recognized some of the area from the road. Recalling coming to part of town the past summer with Steve so he could show you lover’s lake.
 It was bizarre to think you were supposedly near this house just last night and wound up walking all the way back into town. It added to the bitter feeling inside of you when you remembered the events again. 
 But there were questions that needed answers and pouting about being left behind would have to be done later. 
 The car was parked in the dark driveway of the Lipton house and flashlights were slowly passed around before you all made an exit of the car. Steve was quick to make his way to your door, opening it up for you and extending a hand out to help pull you out.
 The moment is sweet and you squeeze his hand lightly in a silent thank you. Over his shoulder, you spot a gawking Robin who didn’t even bother to conceal the small shock on her face.
 Nodding for Steve to go ahead, you hang back a moment to let Robin make her way over to you.
 “So,” she chirped, “that was a pretty nice moment I saw there.”
 “Yes,” you agreed, looking at her from the side of your eyes. “Steve’s been really nice to me since he found me.”
 She hummed playfully, giving you a small wink. “I see. And I’m guessing he was really nice to you when you guys were at your house for over an hour.”
 You hoped that your poker face didn’t crack over Robin’s comment. On top of everything going on, you didn’t need to have her teasing either one of you for what may have happened in your house. Even if she was on the right track.
 “I think it was mostly me needing a minute to process everything.” you said slowly, thankful that you were able to be truthful. “Steve’s just kind enough not to rush.”
 Her eyes glanced over the guy, watching as he held the flash light over towards the side of the house, inspecting the area before he sensed the pair of eyes watching his back. Turning, he glanced between the two of you. Eyes shifting worriedly before he settled with putting an awkwardly forced smile on his face.
 “Dingus is something else, that’s for sure.” Robin muttered with a head shake. “Sorry if I’m pushy. Just looked like something might be sparking between you guys again.”
 Guilt spread over yourself at the idea of giving another person in your life false hope over something you weren’t sure of yet. Especially Robin, who most likely just wanted her close friends to get back together again. 
 “We’re always gonna be close.” you tried, hoping not to sound like your feelings were swinging in any kind of way. “I’m thankful that he’s always willing to help me, even when I don’t think he should.”
 “He cares about you.” She said calmly, like a reminder. 
 Your lips pursed and you dropped your gaze to the flashlight in your hands. “He cares about all of us, Robs.”
 “Yeah, but we know it’s different with you.” she shrugged, “Enough so that he’s willing to just drop everything he's doing to leave work and find you.”
 Dustin called out to the two of you to hurry up, leaving you without a chance to give out a proper response. Quickly, you both followed up behind the others to the door. All holding up a flashlight to brighten up the area.
 The first ring of the doorbell was met with an awkward silence. Then the second, then the third, then fourth, and finally fifth.
 You couldn't help but think that neither Rick nor Eddie would be the type of person who would happily open the door that was being rung this late at night. But, you figured vocalizing that might not help with Dustin’s current frustrations. Steve on the other hand..
 “Okay. Well, that’s settled. I guess he’s not here.”
 Like you expected, Steve’s skepticism only frustrated your cousin further. Causing him to change the ringing into banging. Yelling out for Eddie in hopes that his friend would come out to a friendlier voice.  
 “Look, we just wanna talk, okay? No cops, I swear! We just wanna help!”
 To your left, you watched as Max and Robin began to scale the side of the house. Trying their best to peer into the windows of the closed off home. 
 “EDDIE!” Dustin continued to yell, mixing his knocking with ringing again. “RICK!...REEFER RICK!”
 “Don’t scream that!” Steve chided, making you slightly amused before you moved closer to try and look through the window. The house from what you could see looked completely abandoned. Eddie considered this place to be a shelter from all the mess that had happened. So why did it seem like the place had been abandoned for a while now? 
 “Hey guys?” Max called out, bringing the group to leave the house and follow to where she stood. 
 Down her line of vision was a boat house. Eerily the only thing in the area other than the street lights to have a light on. Something in the back of your mind warned you about its creepy appearance, but considering that everything lately was getting to you, it’d be something you’d have to ignore.
 So down the hill the rest of you went. Lights flashing at the dingy building as you all approached its doors slowly. 
 Robin took the lead this time, pushing at the door slowly as she peeked her head in. “Hello?” she called out, not fully yet stepping in. “Is anyone home?”
 One by one the rest of you filed in after her. Lights aiming in different directions to showcase the inside of the place. It smelled like rusted metal, wet wood, and something else you couldn’t decipher. Forcing you to tuck your nose into the collar of your jacket to breathe in your perfume.
 “What a dump.” Steve called out, a light disdain in his tone. 
 “Did you really expect pristine conditions from a guy called Reefer Rick?” you asked, giving him a small look. He huffed amusedly before turning around to reach over for an ore on the wall. You’re about to ask what he was planning on doing with that when he suddenly began to stab the ore into the tarp covered boat. Making you and Dustin jump a bit from the rapid movement. 
 “What are you doing?” Dustin gaped.
 “He might be in here.” Steve answered simply, continuing with his jabbing.
 “And you plan on turning him into a skewer?” you frowned, taking a step back to observe from a safe distance. 
 Dustin shook his head, pointing over to the boat with his hand. “Take the tarp off!”
 “If you’re so brave, you take the tarp off.” Steve countered, still poking around the edges. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at their cowardice. 
 “Don’t you think he’d have popped out by now if he was hiding in there? You’ve practically poked a hole in the tarp.” you said, crossing your arms. 
 “Hey, look over here.” you heard Max call out. From the other side you watched Robin and her approach a table. Fiddling with some that had been thrown on top. “Someone was here.” she continued. 
 “Maybe he heard us. Got spooked and ran.” Robin suggested.
 “Don’t worry,” Dustin cut in. “Steve will get him with his oar.” 
 You chuckled at that, finding the whole thing ridiculous while Steve went on with his work. 
 “I know you think you’re being funny, Henderson, but considering the fact that everyone in this room has nearly died about a hundred times, personally, I don’t find it funny in the slight–”
 As if he were waiting for the right moment, Eddie suddenly popped out from beneath the tarp, causing everyone in the group to jump back in fear. He shot himself forward and grabbed onto a shocked Steve and pushed them backwards until the two of them were pressed against the wall. 
 All of you are too shocked to react right away. It wasn’t until Dustin was pleading out to Eddie to stop that you noticed he was holding up a broken glass bottle to Steve’s neck. A flashback of Steve’s bloodied face after dealing with the Russian’s came into your mind and you found yourself panicking over his safety. 
 Without even a second thought you picked up one of the other oars and gripped on it tightly, sizing up behind an unknowing Eddie. Dustin called out to you next, holding a hand up as he tried to take control of the situation.
 “Eddie! Eddie! It’s me! It’s Dustin!” he called out, gaining the attention of the boy. “This is Steve. He’s not gonna hurt you, right, Steve?”
 You glanced over Eddie’s shoulder to watch as Steve nervously tried to respond. “Right, yeah.” he whispered, almost afraid to speak up. 
 “Steve, why don't you drop the oar?”
 Right away he let go of the wooden piece, causing a small clanging noise to fill up the tense room. Eddie is slightly triggered by that, pinching the glass a little more against Steve’s neck and causing him to groan out. You glared at the back of Eddie’s head, ready to swing against your own friend when Dustin held a hand out to you again.
 “He’s cool! He’s cool!”
 “I’m cool, man. I’m cool.” he agreed in a whisper to Eddie. His eyes flickered behind the guy towards you, widening as he barely realized your attacking stance.
 “What are you doing here?” Eddie grunted, never looking away from Steve.
 “We’re looking for you.” Dustin answered, trying again to gain his friend’s attention. 
 “We’re here to help.” Robin joined in, trying to calm the tension that had risen. Eddie glanced back, probably just realizing the two girls behind Dustin now. 
 “Eddie, these are my friends.” he pleaded, “You know Robin, from band.” he said, gesturing to the girl behind him. Robin, while awkward, imitated the sound of her trumpet playfully. He turned to his other side and pointed over to Max. “This is my friend Max. The one who never wants to play D&D.” Max offered up her best wave, despite the nervousness that appeared on her face. 
 Dustin nodded over towards your direction, gulping a bit when he noticed you still were ready for the attack. “And you already know my lovely cousin,” he said, clearing his throat. 
 Eddie barely now registered your presence, glancing over his shoulder finally to meet your eyes. He’s shocked at your position, but still unwilling to let go of Steve right away. You made it a point to take a step closer, glaring at him as you finally spoke up. “Hiya, Ed. Remember me?”
 “Eddie,” Dustin cut in, trying to bring the calmness back. “We’re on your side.” There was a flicker of hesitation on his face, making you and Dustin turn slightly more desperate the longer he held onto Steve. 
 “I swear on my Mother! Right guys?”
 The other three shootout similar answers while you remained silent. Ready for anything.
 A long heartbeat passed before he pushed away from Steve, letting him fall back against the wall with a small grunt. You tossed aside the oar and made your way to check on him when Eddie gripped at your hand.
 The two of you hold eye contact and you’re unsure how to react to him calmly.
 His eyes alone showed there was a lingering fear. Hell, you just saw the same eyes in your own mirror hours ago. But the mixed emotions that were going through when it came to Eddie, made it a little hard to figure out how you wanted to react.
 “You’re.. okay.” he whispered, almost like he was afraid to speak aloud. 
 “Yeah, I’m okay.” you nodded, a frown still hard on your face. “No thanks to you.” 
 Tugging your hand out from his grip, you finally stepped away, ignoring the hurt look on his face as you joined Steve at his side. He was hunched over, hand rubbing lightly at his neck. You leaned down, getting close enough to inspect his neck yourself. The skin was red with a slight little nip against the spot under his jawline.
 Steve smiled slightly, reaching out to place his hand on top of yours. “I’m okay.” he reassured. 
 “Eddie..” you heard Dustin behind you. “We just want to talk.” The two of you turned your heads to watch as Dustin lowered down to squat before Eddie. He was closing himself off to the rest of you, hand still clutching onto the bottle as he kept his gaze away. 
 You couldn’t help but feel guilty knowing that Eddie was probably beyond freaked out about all this. There was still such anger and hurt flowing through you. But deep down you knew you felt for Eddie too. He was still the guy who had been your friend this whole time. 
 Dustin tried to reach out for Eddie’s hand to take the bottle, causing him to flinch and grip onto it tighter. Robin slowly approached next, trying Dustin’s docile method as she lowered down to his eye level.
 “We want to know what happened.” she said calmly. “To the both of you.”
 Max glanced over at you, worry still flickered over her pale face before she glanced back to Eddie with the same expression. Steve reached out to place a hand on your back, soothingly as he nodded at you to go forward. “Tell ‘em.” he said softly to you. 
 Eddie sniffled a bit. “You won’t believe me.” he said, voice cracking a bit. His gaze turned to look up now and you let out a shudder at the sight of his teary eyes. 
 Max stood closer, giving him a light shrug as she calmly said a simple “Try us.”
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  Eddie was the first one to go up and recall the events of the night before. The pain, evident in his voice as he tried to describe everything in detail. Immediately your mind is plagued with the images you had seen with your own eyes. Following each part of the story that Eddie cleared out. 
 “..Things only got worse when I looked over to see Henderson passed out on the ground.” he said, pulling you out of your thoughts. “I..I didn’t know what to do, so I grabbed her and just..ran. I ran away. We left her– I left her there.”
 Your face contorted at the painful reminder. The memory of leaving her behind still brought a heavy guilt on you that ached in your chest. Tears pinched in your eyes and you turned away from everyone to control yourself.
 “But what happened to you?” Max asked when she noticed your sudden change. “How did you get separated? Steve said he found you in town by yourself.”
 “I was lost all night.” you clarified, wiping the tears out from your eyes to face them. “I came to in the van when we were nearly out of town.”  Eddie looked down in his hands ashamed, not meeting your gaze. “I had begged Eddie to turn back. To go someplace where we could call for help. I tried to remind him how things would be worse if he made a break for out of the state.. But that’s when we crashed.”
 “Crashed?” Dustin interjected, his eyes were wide as he looked over your appearance for any scars he must have missed out on before. Steve shifted slightly beside you, eyes turning dark as he took in the new information.
 “We made a break for the clearing,” you went on, anger still focused on Eddie. “I could barely grasp what had just happened, let alone follow Eddie, so it didn’t take long for me to lose him in the trees.”
 “I’m sorry,” he started, hands clasped together as he shook his head. “I thought you were behind me the whole time–”
 “You weren’t thinking about anything but getting yourself to safety.” you accused him, pointing a finger in his direction as you stepped forward. “I told you I didn’t know those woods at all and you just kept going!”
 Eddie lifted his head up to meet your fiery gaze. “I-I didn’t mean to..I was just–”
 “You were afraid?” you asked curtly, “Well so was I! I don’t have any idea what the hell killed Chrissy and the next thing I know is my friend just ditched me without even looking back!” You shook your head, feeling tears gradually make their return. “Did you even look for me?”
 The room was filled with a painful silence and you had to turn your face away from Eddie before you took out more anger on him. You nearly left the room entirely, needing to get some fresh air, when you felt a hand slip into yours, stopping yourself from leaving. 
 “Don’t go.” Steve said gently to you. “Just take a breath.”
 It felt easier said than done. But all Steve did was give you a knowing look and you settled with leaning against his side. Eyes cast down to the ground while you sucked in a sharp breath. His presence was a little calming, but you were still struggling internally. 
 During that bit, you could hear Eddie scoff in frustration. “Look, I can’t explain everything that I did, okay? All I can say is what I saw..it was something freaky, man.” There’s a beat of silence that had Eddie recoiling away from the group again. “You all think I’m crazy, right?”
 “No. We don’t think you’re crazy at all.” Dustin reassured gently. 
 “Don’t bullshit me, man! I know how this sounds.” Eddie cried out, voice cracking in frustration.
 Max leaned forward, keeping her voice calm and steady. “We’re not bullshitting you.”
 “We believe you just like how we believe her.” Robin added, pointing a finger over at you. But it does little to relieve Eddie’s shaken state. Finally, Dustin took the lead on explaining everything.
 “Look, what I’m about to tell you might be a little..difficult to take.” he started. 
 “..okay.” 
 “You know how people say Hawkins is..cursed? They’re not way off. There’s another world. A world hidden beneath Hawkins. Sometimes it bleeds into ours.” 
 “Like ghosts and shit?” Eddie asked.
 “There are some things worse than ghosts.” Max followed, trying to help pin it together for him.
 “These monsters from his other world, we thought they were gone. But they’ve come back before and that’s why we needed to find you.”
 Max nodded her head, glancing back at you briefly before she looked back at Eddie. “If they’re back again, we need to know.” 
 Dustin’s words brought a painful reminder of all the times the group has faced different monsters these past few years. From the Byers’ demogorgon, Dart and his pack of demodogs, and recently the Mind Flayer. All things that came when all of you were finally trying to get life back to normal. It wasn’t fair. 
 “That night, did you guys see anything?” Robin asked.
 “Dark particles, maybe?” 
 You tried to think back, recalling the only odd rememberable thing to be the flickering lights. But just like that night, you never saw the familiar monster that broke through walls, or the growling noise of the creatures that surrounded the house, or even the thuds of a monster in the distance. It was like nothing was there and yet it killed Chrissy. 
 “It would almost look like dust, swirling dust.” said Dustin to Eddie, hopeful for his memory to be better than yours. But all his friend did was shake his head. 
 “No, man, there was nothing you could see or, uh, or touch.” he explained, looking up at you. “It was just us in there.”
 You sighed frustratedly, finally giving Eddie a sparing glance. “He’s right..aside from the lights flickering it was like..she was pulled up in the air like a puppet. As if by magic.”
 “We tried to wake her, man. She couldn’t move.” he added after you. “It was like she..she was in a trance or something.”
 “Or under a spell.” Dustin countered. 
 Some sort of realization flickered over Eddie’s face. “A curse.” he said next.
 “Vecna’s curse.”
 Beside you, you could see Steve’s head tilted at the name. “Who’s Vecna?” he asked Dustin. Your cousin doesn’t look back to you guys, but from your spot you could see the sudden shift in his demeanor. 
 “An undead creature of great power.”
 “A spell caster.” Eddie added, voice soft in disbelief.
 “..a dark wizard.” Dustin finished off. 
 Suddenly, the room began to feel smaller, and the weight of this new threat pressed down on everyone. You couldn't shake the feeling that this time, it was different – that Hawkins was about to face a threat unlike anything you’ve encountered before.
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  The mood between everyone didn’t get much better after you and Eddie finished retelling everything. 
 The others took their turn in recapping all the news coverage they had been hearing throughout the day. While it was safe to say you were clear as a suspect, it didn’t mean you were out of the woods just yet. Most likely, those closest to Eddie would be next on the public’s radar. Which seemed like the easier thing to worry about considering there was this ominous Vecna to focus on.
 But since things were clear for now, the rest of the group urged Eddie to continue hiding in the boat house. Promising to return the following day. It wouldn’t be safe to move him around just yet. An unfortunate circumstance that he’d have to understand for now. The only time you saw him look a little more comfortable with the idea was when Dustin promised to provide him with food the following day. 
 Soon after you were all back in the comforts of Steve’s car.
 The two of you back in the front seat while the three in the back talked about what could be going on and where they can start tomorrow. You’d answer one of their questions now and then, but weren’t able to fully bring yourself in just yet. Considering no one wanted to be in your line of anger like in the boat house, they were very minimal in what questions they’d call out to you.
 Steve, on the other hand, was silent. Still visibly stressed from the boathouse conversations. In fact, you were pretty sure he was upset with the way his jaw would clench now and then. Ever since the mini spat with Eddie, plus the reveal of what happened, he hasn’t been the same. But even then, he set aside his emotions to still offer up a ride to the others. Making sure everyone got home safely.
 You watched him carefully, wondering what was going through his mind. 
 Today was..definitely not what he probably had planned. Especially after everything that was said the night before, then in your bedroom, and then the boat house. It wouldn’t be surprising if he didn’t crack under the pressure he seemed to be under. You wished you could help alleviate this new worry, but all you’ve done lately is add to it. 
 The only solid concentration he seemed to have at the moment though was driving and keeping hold of your hand.
 “Okay, Steve. We’ll meet up early tomorrow. I think Eddie’s gonna need a lot of food if he’s gonna hide this out. We’ll have to go to the market before we pick up everyone.” Dustin said from the back with a yawn. 
 The others were already dropped off. Mumbling out tired goodnights before Steve had finally made the return back to your driveway. The engine was off and the three of you had been quiet until Dustin broke the silence.
 “Sounds good, man.” he confirmed, speaking up for the first time in an hour. 
 With a clap to Steve’s shoulder, Dustin quickly made his leave for the car. Calling out for you to hurry up before he used his key to enter the house. Neither of you made any motion to follow through on Dustin’s warning. Only watching in silence as he entered the home. 
 It wasn’t until he saw the switch of the living room light on that Steve finally turned to look at you. His eyes scanned over the features of your face before he leaned in to push a hair away from your face. “You doing okay?” he asked softly.
 You’re almost taken back by his quick concern. How despite all that’s happened and been said, his first question is to ask about your well being. 
 “I’m here.” Was the best answer you could think of at the moment. You were still pretty upset about earlier. Especially the fact that you allowed yourself to get so angry at Eddie who was clearly unfamiliar with this type of horror. But it was hard to control anything going on with you right now. A glance down and you noted how he hasn’t dropped your hand yet. “Are you? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you be so..quiet before. Feels weird.”
 He huffed amusedly through his nose before he shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve had a lot on my mind today. And honestly..I’m tired.”
 You use your free hand to reach over and cup the side of his face. Unable to contain yourself from helping provide Steve the comfort you know he needs. 
 His eyes slipped close and he leaned forward enough to rest against the palm of your hand while you gently caressed. He looked as tired as he sounded, and you wanted to help provide him with the ease of a good night’s sleep.
 “I never thanked you.” you murmured, watching as he peeked his eyes open to look at you. “Today you..you helped me in more ways than one.”
 “I think you sort of showed me thanks already.” he countered, a little bit teasing in his tone.
 “Us having sex was not my way of showing thanks.” you scoffed, only slightly amused by his words. “I mostly meant you bringing me home..and then back in the boat house. You helped calm me down.”
 He reached up for your hand to bring them together before him, squeezing them lightly until he pulled them up to press a kiss to the front of your finger tips. Keeping his gaze at you until he settled them back into his lap. 
 “I’m always gonna be here for you, you know that right?”
 The never failing sincerity of his words had you shyly averting your gaze away from his. Unsure how to deal with your own emotions as well as the ones that Steve kept bringing back. But he didn’t seem to want to wait for you to come up with an answer as he used the grip on your hands to pull you in and meet you in the middle of the console. There’s only a small space for you to decide to pull back but you ignored that thought as you pressed your lips against his. 
 The kiss, while breathtaking, was a lot sweeter than the ones you guys had shared today. Almost like a reassuring gesture to help ease you into ending the conversation. 
 “You need to get some sleep.” he urged when he pulled back for air. His plump lips were ghosting over yours now, enticing you back in despite his words saying otherwise. “After everything we need you back in shape tomorrow.” 
 “Okay,” you agreed, not quite moving just yet. “Promise you’ll get some rest too?”
 He nodded his head, pulling himself further back so he could meet your eyes. “I’ll be here as early as I can.” Sighing heavily, you take your hands out of Steve’s grip and reach for the door handle, sparing him one last look before you exited the car. 
 The sound of his engine starting up cut through the silence as you made your way towards the front door of the house. You got the chance to watch as he pulled out of the driveway, waving to you before he fully pulled away and made his turn down the street. 
 Exhaustion covered your whole body as you turned to enter the house. You were more than ready to pass out on your bed for a couple of hours. However, there was one more person waiting to talk. 
 Sat down on the chair beside the couch, was a nervous Dustin. Looking over at you expectantly as he waited for you to finally make your way towards him. He’s barely talked to you today and while you’re sure he was still annoyed with the previous fight you guys had, you could easily tell something else, something deeper was on his mind.
 “Dustin?” you called out slowly. “Are you–”
 “A lot happened yesterday.” he blurted out. Though his words were clipped, there was the familiar hint of Dustin’s sincerity that lingered through. “We could have talked things out but..I just got annoyed and pushed you away.”
 You blinked at that, trying not to think of the day again. “It’s fine, Dustin.”
 “It’s not..I didn't know where you were all day. A girl is dead.” he stood up, moving before you. “You were with Eddie when it happened..it could’ve been..”
 The words died off from his mouth but you feel you already know what he wanted to say. Taking a step forward, you reached out to rest a hand on his shoulder. Trying not to downplay his worry while also attempting to reassure him. “It could’ve been me, but it wasn’t. Okay?”
 “I just can’t shake the feeling that all of this isn’t gonna stop with just Chrissy.” he whispered, almost afraid to speak the words out loud. “It’s never just one attack for us. Vecna..he’s powerful. I don’t know what I’ll do if it’s you or anyone else.”
 “It’s not gonna be any of us.” you reassured him. 
 “How can you be so sure?”
 “Because, we have people like you on our side.” He tried to appear confident at that, but the lingering worry still lingered on his face. He was on the verge of freaking out. “We’re gonna figure this out, okay?”
 “..I hope you’re right.” he mumbled, pulling out of your grip with a sigh. “Let’s get to bed, we have a lot of work tomorrow.”
 With that, he quickly turned to walk away. Leaving you alone in the dimly lit living room with his words echoed in your mind. The worry about this ‘evil wizard’ hung in the air, and the unsettling reality that someone you cared about could be the next target scared you down to your core. 
 Things were different this time and most of the party has been split off. All you could hope for was to hold back the fear that wanted to consume you whole. 
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A/N: Sorry it’s taken so long for another update! I was so busy and sick over these past few weeks. I really hope you guys enjoyed this update. I’m hoping to get this next chapter out sooner. Let me know what you guys think! xoxo
TAGGING LIST:
@cluz1babe , @starofavolonea , @darlingimafangirl (won’t let me tag), & @primroseluna​
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You Are My Queen Now | Part 12
Word Count: 14k
Genre: Smut, angst, fluff
Summary: Growing up as a child of a minor lord, you had it instilled in you since a young age that you needed to find yourself a rich and affluent husband that would not only provide a comfortable life for you, but would also help further your family’s position in the court. So it was of the utmost importance that you remain a virgin in order to land such a coveted husband.
The problem lies when the man you secretly love, Prince Beomgyu, suddenly and unabashedly propositions you.
Warnings: fingering, cunnilingus, overstimulation, missionary degradation, sub!gyu, dom!gyu, sub!oc, dom!oc, breeding kink, inaccurate portrayal of an old wedding, oc has a mini panic attack, knife and blood play, self harm and harming others, mentions of past rape, slapping, smothering gyu with your pussy lmao, pregnancy, extremely unhealthy relationship dynamics, manipulative characters, mentions of and justifications of rape and blaming someone for their own rape.
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It’s been about a month since Beomgyu officially declared war on Taehyun. 
Beomgyu doesn’t tell you much about the war but from what little he’s told you and what you’ve gathered, Taehyun’s wasn’t doing good. Even though he has gathered more allies now other than Ryujin’s father, like Lord Seojin who joined up with him after that disastrous meeting and Heejin’s family who turned against Beomgyu after she got kicked out of court, as well as their various associates, but the best they can do right now is merely hold their ground. 
Beomgyu doesn’t seem concerned about the war or the loss of some of his allies. Instead, he focuses on strengthening his relations with the existing members of his court and continually gaining the public’s support. 
“You’ve gotten slimmer again.” You comment as you move your brush over his skin, noting how his back lost much of the bulk it had when you first saw him again. “And your hair got longer." 
You’re having your painting session with just him today. Lately, he’s been so busy with meetings and the like and so he’s using this as an excuse to spend more time with you. He had volunteered to let you use his body as a canvas and now he was laying on his stomach over a large sheet as you paint his back with vivid red colors. 
He cranes his head back and grins. "You said you loved your lanky idiotic best friend."
That’s true, and he’s starting to look like him too. But will you ever be able to see him in that way again? You know your love for him will never go away–it hasn’t even waned a little bit after everything he’s done and you’re sure even if he were to kill you, your heart would pump the last of its blood with love for him. But will you ever look at him the same way again? Will you ever trust him? Will he ever be your knight in shining armor? Will he ever be the innocent warmth you seek against the coldness of the world? 
He has hurt you too much, too much. But the gods have turned their backs on you long ago and only the devil would embrace you. He beckons to you with open arms, a soft smile and the promise of the whole world in your hands. 
And how can you refuse his bastardized gift–your fallen angel–when you incited his revolt against the gods? You’re as doomed to the fires of hell as he is, you rotten sinner. 
As the bloody strokes of paint take shape, Beomgyu tries to get a peek at what you’re painting. "Are those wounds?"
“Yes.” You confirm monotonously. "Ripped wings."
“Am I a fallen angel?” He frowns at that, the negative connotations hanging in the air. 
“The devil.” 
Beomgyu pauses for a minute, perturbed by your words. You don’t know why he always acts so surprised by them, as if he just expects you to get over everything he’s done and forgive him already. 
"I am not going to get upset by your sharp words anymore. You chose me. That tells me all I need to know." He says, hurt apparent in his voice despite his words. "You pouting and sulking is not going to save him and you know that very well. So you might as well drop it and start enjoying yourself."
He shuts his eyes and rests his head on his arms again, trying to give off the impression of nonchalance, but the way the sun hits his face illuminates his thick eyebrows with a golden glow that highlights the way they are pulled together in a small frown, and hanging in that beam of sunlight are the little frustrated puff of air he lets out, like a sullen little puppy who has been chastised. 
He’s right, however. Sulking won’t save Taehyun. You know what you should do and you refuse to do it. You feel it with every dig of the dagger into your skin as you move–the dagger Beomgyu let you have back, not because you asked for it but so that it would act as a constant reminder of how your words mean nothing. 
Because if they did, Beomgyu’s back would be stained with real blood instead of paint. 
______________________________________
You chew on your nails as you anxiously await the results of Wonyoung’s test. Your menses has been late for over a week now, when it has always been a punctual visitor every month. So what could be the cause of such uncharacteristic delay? Well, there was only one possibility at the forefront of all your minds. 
You tried to maintain denial at first. You did not even mention anything to Beomgyu about it, hoping your fears would be proven wrong with time. But it was no use. He knew your schedule better than you did and he was on you after only a day of absence. 
Of course, he had turned to Wonyoung then, excitedly asking her if this meant that you could be pregnant, but she had prudently advised him to wait a few days to see if it was just tardy.
And so you did. Those few days were some of the longest of your life, the hours of the day  seeming to stretch on forever as you awaited your fate. But there was one thing that made it better–Beomgyu presence. In fact, during those few days he hardly ever left your side, choosing to relegate his duties to Wonyoung so you wouldn’t have to wait alone. 
It was heaven and hell, just like everything that is Beomgyu. That week cut in time just for the two of you was utterly joyful, and you cherished the chance to spend entire days and nights with the love of your life, wrapped away in each other’s presence. But the circumstances of that week never escaped your consciousness–the possibility that you could be pregnant a looming cloud over your sunny paradise. 
And now is the moment of truth. 
“What is it, Wony?” Beomgyu asks, jumping out of his seat as Wonyoung gets back into the room.
Her unreadable expression was like an icy grip on your heart, and her revelation squeezes it into a tenderized pulp. “She’s pregnant.” 
Beomgyu lets out a shout of joy and takes you into his arms, twirling you around before Wonyoung promptly stops him. “What are you doing, idiot? You’ll hurt the baby!”
He jerks to a halt, apologizing profusely and jumbling his words. “I’m so sorry–I didn’t realize–I’m just so…” He trails off and looks at you with teary eyes. “I’m so happy. We’re going to have a family!”  
You get teary-eyed too, but for a different reason, and just nod, not trusting yourself to speak. But Beomgyu still notices your gloomy mood right away. “What’s wrong, baby?”
You didn’t want to say anything. It was no use. Beomgyu will do whatever he wants anyway, but you just can’t help it. You burst out crying, “My child is going to be a bastard!” 
“Oh, darling.” Beomgyu coos, cradling your head and pressing it to his chest. “Wony, leave us alone, please.” 
You sob into his chest as you hear Wonyoung walk to the door and get out before shutting it behind her. Then Beomgyu pulls your head back to brush your tears away and gives you a big smile. “Our child will never be a bastard. I promised you that, didn’t I?” 
“But–” You’re cut off as he gets onto his knees. “Marry me, baby. Be my queen.” 
You can hardly take in enough breath to form your next words. “How? People will know we lied.” 
Beomgyu smiles knowingly and kisses the backs of your hands. “Who will? The public? I can easily sell them a made up story about us finding comfort in each other after the betrayal of our spouses, and even if they don’t buy it, what are they going to do? I feed and protect them. You think they’d choose a warlord and a foreign king over me? And the nobles–most of them know the truth and don’t care. They only care about maintaining their power and riches and that idiot jeopardizes that.”  
“You have it all figured out, don’t you?” You ask bitterly, your tears drying up. Beomgyu has everything planned out, even this. From you testifying in the trial, to securing the letters, to impregnating you. He is always two steps ahead of you. 
“Does it matter?” His hands squeeze yours tightly. "Don't you want to finally be my wife? To be recognized in front of everyone? Don’t you want your child not to be a bastard?"
Once again, Beomgyu comes out on top. It's so disheartening to see how someone like him can so easily twist the narrative in his favor and squash the side of the truth under his iron boot.
If you had stayed with Taehyun or spoken out against Beomgyu, would it have made any difference or would he have silenced you too? Would he have called you crazy? Locked you up? He certainly wouldn't have been able to marry you. Would that have been a punishment for him or for you?
It's no use speculating on what would’ve happened. You can't change your mind again, every time you do something disastrous happens. You have a child now. You have to protect them. 
I'm so sorry, Taehyun.
“Okay.” You give in, trying to hold your tears in but they burst forward in a loud sob. “I will marry you.” 
But Beomgyu doesn’t dwell on your obvious turmoil, and through your tears, his wide smile looks distorted and monstrous. “This is just the beginning, my love. Soon, we’ll have everything we ever wanted.”
He pulls out the ring that he once offered you on that fateful night at the beach and puts it on you. This time, there was no escaping–your once hero soon to be struck down. 
_____________________________________
Back at your chambers, Beomgyu can’t keep his hands off you. He’d gotten so excited about the news of your pregnancy that he had to retire the both of you back to your chambers so he can have his way with you. 
“Look at you, baby.” Beomgyu murmurs, prompting you to stare at yourself in the mirror that he has you positioned in front of, bare and exposed in his arms. “You’re ethereal, exquisite. You were made for this, weren’t you?”
What is this? Being toyed with? Owned? Used? 
He spreads your pussy apart with his slim fingers–the treacherous thing puffy and wet for the taking, having surrendered itself to Beomgyu long ago. 
“You’re going to be even prettier all swollen up with our baby.” 
He rubs the pads of his fingers over your clit gently, getting you as worked up as he is and making you watch your hole pathetically clench around nothing. 
“You’re so wet.” His hand slides down to scoop some of your slick on his fingers, and in doing so making you jump as his fingers brush over your hole. 
“Oh? You want my fingers, baby?" He coos, hand sliding down again so the tip of his middle finger slips in and you squeak. You’re so fucking sensitive. You feel him chuckle against your back. “Hmm, you like that, don’t you? I already got you pregnant but you’re still so needy to get filled, huh?”
He sucks in a sharp breath as he eases a finger inside you. “So tight.” He groans, stuffing another one inside, making you gasp as you grab onto his arm. You can feel his hard cock poking against your back as pumps his fingers slowly in and out of you. “Am I not fucking you enough, pretty?”
He’s really not. Yes, he fucks you way more than Taehyun ever did, but he’s still somewhat mindful of how upset you are at him and while he’s not shy about taking you, you suspect he still holds back quite a bit. 
Despite your lack of response, Beomgyu reads your reaction clearly enough. “I’m sorry, baby. We’re going to have to remedy that, won’t we?” He purrs darkly, slamming his fingers into you, the palm of his hand smacking against your clit as he repeats that actions again and again. “Just have to loosen that tight pussy up a bit.” 
“Beomgyu…” You whine, clinging onto his arm as your legs automatically try to close against the sudden onslaught. 
“No.” He growls, using his other hand to shove your legs apart. "Keep your legs spread. Want to see your needy pussy swallowing up my fingers."
You whimper, your leg muscles tensing up as your arch onto your toes and give in to his rough ministrations. 
“Yeah, that’s it. Love it when you act like such a whore for me.” You can hear his own need in his voice, and you know he won’t be able to hold back much longer. “Come on, show me how much you need it. Spread your legs wider and put your feet in the air." 
"You're such a pervert." You gasp out even as you do as he says, letting him feast his hungry eyes on your lewd display. 
“Fuck—” He can only manage a few more pumps of his fingers before he rips them away and yanks the both of you up to your feet. 
Beomgyu carries you to the bed and lays on your back at the center where you immediately spread your legs and pull them up next to your body the way you know he likes. He hurriedly takes off his clothes before climbing onto the bed with you, but then he pauses, taking a moment to loom over you with his dick in his hand as his eyes rake up and down your body. 
“Fucking perfect.” He gives his cock a couple of jerks while his other hand finds your pussy and stuffs it with his fingers once again. “Can’t believe I get to have you like this. I’ve waited so long just to have my princess warm up my bed like this every night, all spread out on her back and waiting for me to fuck her full.” 
“Then what are you waiting for?” You mewl impatiently. You hate it when he makes you wait. It exposes you for the hypocrite you are. “Just fuck me already.” 
He bites his lip, a cheeky grin etching itself onto his face. “Oh, I will, but why don’t you whine a little more for me first?” 
Like hell you will. He’s been acting like a little shit for too long now, as if he won’t cry if you close your legs and decide to leave him high and dry. 
“No. Why don’t you be a good boy instead and fuck me before I get bored and just get myself off?” You raise up on your forearms to lend more credence to your threat, and Beomgyu doesn’t care to call your bluff, not when he’s so worked up because of the pregnancy.
“No!” He yelps, and you almost get whiplash from how fast he replaces his fingers with his cock, gasping out a little whine as he slides himself into you. “You’re so mean.” 
“Me? You’re the one who is teasing your pregnant fiance when you should be keeping me fucked and happy like you promised. Or were those just empty words?” You rile him up even more, knowing it will make him lose control and it does. 
“No. I can. I can.” He insists, his hips smacking into yours. Beomgyu hates when you imply that there is something he can’t give you, partly because of his fervent need to prove himself to you and partly because he’s so afraid you’ll look for it someplace else. Your escape really fucked him up more than he already is, and so you’re quick take back your voiced doubts or he’ll go off the rails. 
“Yeah, that’s a good boy. Show me how well you can fuck me.” You clutch onto the sheets below, holding onto them as your body jostles with every vigorous thrust of his hips against your. 
God, he’s so fucked in the head but it’s hard to think about that when his cock is filling you up just right and he’s fucking you this good. And the bastard knows it too. 
“You sound so good.” He groans happily, "Come on, whine louder for me, my needy girl."
You give him what he wants. “So good, puppy. Fucking me so good.” 
“Yeah, is this what you wanted?” Even though his question might sound domineering, you can easily detect the neediness and desperation for validation he always wants from you. 
“Uh-huh.” He barely lets you affirm before his lips are on yours, tongue greedily pushing into your mouth as he kisses you frantically. It’s so good, too good, and at times like this when the heat of it all sears your brain, you can’t think about how wrong it is to allow him these moments, to give into him so easily and willingly. 
You feel his hand rest on your belly, his fingers splaying to cover as much of it as he can, and he pulls back to murmur heatedly, “Once this baby is out, I’m going to knock you up again and again. Never going to let a night pass by when you’re not filled to the brim with me.”
“Beomgyu–”
“You want it, my queen?” He whimpers, his hips stuttering but he still drives his cock into you harshly, making you struggle to keep your eyes trained on his drunken expression. “Want my cum in that tight pussy?”
“Yes. Give it to me, puppy. I need it.” You moan, pushing him to the edge. 
His hand quickly moves down to your pussy, thumb flicking your clit earnestly to help you over the edge with him, and you scream at the sudden spike in pleasure, your pussy clamping down on his cock as it spurts inside of you. 
“I love you. I love you.” He whimpers, only able to grind against you now as your pussy milks him dry, the little movement still too much on your poor pussy and your body jolts with little spikes of overstimulation each time he moves. 
With a final jerk of his hips, he’s drained. He rests his forehead against yours and presses a soft kiss to your parched lips. “We’re going to have such a big, happy family, my queen.” 
You’re so fucked out that you can do nothing but hum as he lays down next to you and takes you in his arms, the heat of his body combining with the heat in the air to keep your poor brain feverish and blissful. 
And he keeps it that way too–with his cock firmly stuffed inside of you throughout the night. You awaken every few hours by the thrusts of his hips to find yourself in different positions on the bed–once on your side with one of your legs nudged up to allow him easy access to your pussy, once plopped onto your stomach as he takes you from behind, once with your body splayed on top of him as he pushes his cock up into your pussy… every time you would whine and he would shush you, telling you to just go back to sleep and let him do all the work. 
And so you do, happy to just lie there pliantly while he brings the both of you mind-searing pleasure that chases all your pesky worries away.
________________________________
“I have something to show you, baby.” Beomgyu tells you one morning, leading you to the room adjacent to yours. 
You have no idea why he’s taking you there. As far as you know, that room wasn’t of any particular note. But you find out as soon as you step inside, choking back your emotions as you realize why exactly he was showing it to you. 
The walls of the previously nondescript room were now painted in baby blues and soft yellows–an intricate but complimenting mix of you and Beomgyu’s favorite colors–the room decorated with masterfully sculpted furniture and filled with all kinds of toys and trinkets. There was a large bed to the side for resting and even a bookcase filled to the brim with what you just know are mounds of fairytales from all over the world. But the centerpiece of the room was the small crib colored with those same soothing blues and yellows and framed by a large white drape with a statue of an angel sitting on top of it. 
It’s a nursery. He has transformed the room into a nursery for your child, and it's fucking perfect. It’s everything you couldn’t have even dared to wish for as a kid and the fact that a child of yours–you, the lowly born lady everyone regards as Beomgyu’s whore–will have this room to call their own brings tears to your eyes. 
“Do you like it, my queen?” Beomgyu asks, but the grin on his face tells you that he already knows the answer. Of course, he does. He knows you so well, that’s how he knew to make this without you even asking.
God, how can he be so demented, yet so utterly perfect?
You throw your arms around him, pulling him into a heated embrace. “It’s perfect.” 
“Our children are not going to want for anything, you know that, right?” He promises you and you nod, kissing him. And you wish he would’ve left it there, let you enjoy this beautiful moment without reminding you of the horrors he built it with. 
“But this is just the material aspect of it. We have to be there for them too. Will you be there for them?” He asks somberly, demanding that you pledge yourself to him, that you won’t choose anyone else again.
“Yes.” You answer in a small voice. 
“I want to build a good life for them, my love, keep them safe from those who would wish to harm them. Which is why I must get rid of the complications you created. You understand that, right?” 
You hold your tears back, pressing your lips into a thin line so you wouldn’t sob, and nod. “Yes.” You pull your arms off him but he holds onto them. 
He wraps your arms around him again, and kisses your taut lips. “We’re going to be so happy.”
Happy. Is that what you look like to him? Why couldn’t he have just let you enjoy this moment? Why can’t he let you live in blissful oblivion for just a few more seconds? 
But he wants you to choose, and now you have to–choose between the love of your and the child he gave you, and the man who dared to stand up to him and show you another way. 
The answer is shamefully clear to you. You wish it was harder. You wish you would’ve struggled more with it, but you didn’t. You choose Beomgyu and the baby. You can’t let your child live the same wretched life you did. You’ll do anything you can to protect them and love them and spare them from this horrible world, and if it means playing along with the delusions Beomgyu is selling you, then so be it.  
You will try to be happy, for your children. You will raise them to be kinder, gentler, and hope they grow up to be the kind of people who will despise the likes of you.  
___________________
“How is the pregnancy going? Is the sickness too much to handle? Are you taking the herbs I’ve gave you?” Wonyoung asks you when you meet up with her for tea and a chat, referring to the bouts of vomiting you’ve been going through lately. 
“Some days it’s better, some days it’s worse.” You tell her, shrugging. “But your brother is always right next to me and he makes sure I’m drinking all the herbs and eating well.” 
She smiles in relief. “That’s good. We want this baby to be healthy and happy.” 
“We?” You ask, taken aback. “You want me to have this baby?”
When Wonyoung had told you that she wanted to talk to you alone about the baby, you had internally freaked out. You hadn’t really talked to her about it ever since she revealed the pregnancy to you and you worried about what she’d have to say. 
You’d gotten so much pushback from Kai when you married Taehyun despite his initial welcoming, and it was one of the most painful things you’ve ever gone through–to finally feel like you were accepted and wanted and protected, only to have it all ripped away from you when the actual family member is in jeopardy. 
You weren’t stupid. You knew Wonyoung's priority has to be her brother’s safety and wellbeing, and you being pregnant with his child threatens that. You know that. You expected it, and you told yourself that you can take whatever abuse she has to hurl at you, that this child was Beomgyu’s way of trapping you anyway so her opinion doesn’t matter. It’s not like you wanted it in the first place…
But then why the hell is your heart almost beating out of your chest? Why are you so scared of what she has to say? Why does Wonyoung’s acceptance or lack thereof matter so much to you? 
You know. It’s because you actually want this child. You want to be Beomgyu’s wife. You want to be accepted as part of his family, to not be treated as second class. You yearn to belong, and whether by good nature or by design, Beomgyu’s family gave you that and you’re so scared of having it ripped away from you again. That’s why his plan is so effective. He knows well just how much of a hypocrite you are. 
Stop pretending to care about them.
Wonyoung frowns. “Why, of course. Why wouldn’t I? It’s what you and Beomgyu want, isn’t it?”
“Yes but…” You trail off hesitantly. “Don’t you think it’s too risky? That people may catch on?”
Despite Beomgyu earlier reassurances, you still worry that the news of the pregnancy and the intended marriage will hurt him. That’s another proof of your hypocrisy. You can’t stand the idea of him getting hurt. 
“Oh sweetling, is that something you’ve been worrying yourself with?” She coos, taking you in her arms like her brother so frequently does and you nod shamefully. “It doesn’t matter what they think. You are having this baby and we will protect you. You’re part of our family, as is this child, and we will not let any harm come to either one of you. You’re one of us now, sweetling."
Maybe she’s telling you what you want to hear just like her brother does, but you can’t help feeling emotional. They want you. They want this baby, and they’re not going to leave you behind.   
“Wait,” You sniffle, confused. “If you didn’t call me here to tell me not to have the baby then what did you want to tell me?” 
She takes her hands off you and straightens herself up. “Okay so this is not an exact science and it’s not always correct,” She starts, looking a bit unsure of herself which is a first from the usually confident princess. “But I have done a further test on the urine sample you’ve given me and I may have an inkling of what the sex of your baby is going to be.” 
You gasp, straightening up too, and waiting for her to continue with bated breath. You don’t know if she pauses for a while or if your world just freezes around you, but eventually she speaks up. 
“It’s a baby boy.” She tells you at long last, and you gasp, but she puts her hand up to halt your reaction. “I haven’t told Beomgyu because it might not turn out to be true and I don’t want you to feel pressured about it but I thought you’d like to know.”
“I-I… Thank you, Wonnie.” You gush tearfully, overcome with emotion, and she takes you into her arms, embracing you heatedly. 
You did it. You’re going to give Beomgyu an heir. Your dreams really are coming true. 
_____________________________
Unlike Beomgyu’s family, the rest of the royal court isn’t as enthusiastic about your marriage news, with some even daring to voice their opinions about how it might weaken Beomgyu’s position in the war. But Beomgyu stands strong and firm, informing them that the wedding will take place, and that if they want to try their luck joining up with Taehyun, they’re more than welcome to. That shut them up fast. Of course it helped that he could afford to splurge to buy their silence, but he was also clear that if anyone even thought about standing in his way, there would be hell to pay. 
So with the entire royal family united, and the court more or less supportive, the wedding is announced to the public, and Beomgyu makes sure to spin a pretty picture about how all this came to be for his people.
“I know this might come as a shock to some of you, and to some it may even seem like proof of what the traitors have been saying, but I ask you to hear me out before you cast your judgements.” He beseeches his people, once again playing the innocent role to perfection. "In these turbulent times, in which both me and her have gone through one of the worst pains one can imagine - being brutally betrayed by those we loved so dearly - we came to find solace in each other, and by keeping each other's heart close we found the strength to live. That's when I realized how precious it is to have had her loyal heart my whole life. First as a friend, then family, then as a victim of circumstance I so desperately had to save... and now, surprisingly, I realize she saved me as well. I now find in her a love I thought only existed in books. I find in her the only one that could truly understand my heart, that has always been by my side, that has always seen me for who I am and that I now know will be in my heart forever.” 
“I know that this announcement might seem sudden, maybe even too soon, to some of you. But it took me my whole life to realize that happiness has always been right beside me... I could not waste another day not letting her know how much she means to me. They may have been lying when they accused us of those vile betrayals, but the gods saw fit to make truth out of those lies, to bring forth love from the hate they spewed. And If we are to die at their hands, then at least we’ll die in each other’s arms.”
Beomgyu’s impassioned and romantic speech tugs on the heartstrings of those present, and they once again believe all the pretty lies he sells them. Can you blame them when he doesn’t even need to lie to you to get you to do what he wants anymore? 
Taehyun never stood a chance. People like Beomgyu will always come on top. 
_____________________________
Though the response to the wedding news has been mostly positive, it wasn’t entirely so, and Beomgyu does lose some of the public’s support because of it. It even put some of the nobles who supported him before on the fence. 
But it didn’t matter to Beomgyu, he was still on top and he was sure that he would win back all the people he lost when they saw that they wouldn’t be risking anything by continuing to support him. 
Most importantly however, he gets to marry you, and that’s what he really cares about. And so the wedding commences. 
It’s an extravagant and public event–probably not the wisest decision in the middle of a war, especially following Ryujin’s death and the accusations she and Taehyun have been hurling at Beomgyu and you, but Beomgyu didn’t want you to think for even one second that you’re less than Ryujin in any way and so he had to top his previous wedding in every aspect. He wasn’t going to settle for a small, private affair. The wedding had to be grand, spectacular–a visual representation of his overflowing love for you. 
Yes, it might’ve not looked good, but it felt good for everyone involved–the nobility who got extra benefits for standing by him, the common people who received a huge feast and precious little trinkets to keep and got to see their king walk amongst them, but most importantly you who got to finally belong to the love of your life in front of the whole world. 
That’s another proof of your hypocrisy. You adore every stupid, reckless detail of it all–his elaborate display of love and devotion for you. You eat it all up. 
The wedding was sunflower themed of course, just for you. Everything from the decorations to your veil to the huge gold necklace Beomgyu wears were either real sunflowers or embroidery and jewelry made to mimic sunflowers and the sun with rays coming out of it. Even your dress, which was the most magnificent piece of art you've ever seen, was embroidered throughout with sunflowers of all sizes. It all looked so gorgeous, the flair of yellow scattered throughout casting a radiant and hopeful glow on everything it touches. 
Still, you have the decency to feel shame and guilt about how much you’re enjoying this, the unwelcome feelings transforming the beautiful carriage you’re riding in on your way to the temple into a cage where you’re trapped with your self-deprecating thoughts. They gnaw at your feet and compel you with an overwhelming, irrational urge to burst open the door and run away from it all. But you know it’s futile, for there is a much bigger prison outside made up of the countless citizens flanking the road to watch the royal carriage pass by. You see them waving at you through the window, visitors coming to witness the curious caged bird their king has acquired.  
You can’t breathe. You can’t breathe. You can’t–
Suddenly, you jolt when you feel a hand on your thigh, and you look up wide-eyed at the queen next to you. “You’re shaking, child.” She observes kindly, and you blink. 
“Oh, I suppose I am.” You stare at your legs as you will them to stop jerking. Curious. You’ve never been known to do that anymore. It must’ve been a habit that you picked up from Taehyun…
No. Don’t think about him. Don’t let yourself go down that road. You’re doing this for your child. It’s over. 
You hear a sigh coming from the queen and your eyes snap back to look at her in shame. “I’m.. I’m trying.” You don’t know why you’re explaining yourself to her but you just can’t handle being a disappointment to one more person. You need support. You need acceptance. You can’t keep fighting anymore. 
But the royals know that all too well. They’re masters at reading people and giving them what they want. “It’s okay, child. It will all be okay. We’re all here for you. We’ll be with you every step of the way.” 
Yes, just like a warden guards their prisoner, the owner must keep their prized pet safe. But the door was open once… you were free once, and you still came back. So how can you protest now when they’re cutting your flight feathers away? 
So you swallow your useless feelings and let them guide you where they want you. You let her take you by the hand as you arrive at your destination and lead you out the carriage and up the vast steps of the sacred temple. 
She stops at the landing and turns the both of you around to face the crowd gathered beneath. “Wave to your subjects, dear. They’ve come to celebrate this day with you.” 
You raise your hand shakily, and the noise from the crowd surges in response to the small action, shouts of “My queen!” “You look beautiful!” “Gods bless you!” reaching your ear but not making it to your brain. 
You can’t process their words, can’t make out their meaning. You feel as if you’re a stranger in your own body, as if you’re watching through the eyes of someone else. 
Ryujin. That’s what she saw on her wedding day. This exact scene, and look where she is now, rotting in the ground.
“Can we go inside now?” You whisper urgently to the queen and she regards you for a second, no doubt taking in your frazzled state, before she nods and turns you around, walking you towards the grand door and giving your back to the chorus of disappointed shouts of “Stay!” “Look at me, my queen!” “Why are you leaving so soon?” and “The other one was nicer.”
That last one almost knocks you to the ground. They’re not done with the spectacle yet. Funny how in all your years imagining this very moment, you never knew that you’d be nothing more than a spectacle for these people. None of them really care. They’re just here for the show. 
You feel your knees buckling and your chest tightening but the queen never lets her grip on you wane, dragging you behind her firmly. You absolutely cannot collapse right now. You’re not allowed to. 
Wonyoung greets you at the doors, and her warm smile as she extends the lovely sunflower bouquet to you helps ground you for a second. 
“You got this, sweetling.” She murmurs in your ear when she bends down to kiss you. Your only answer to her is a shaky intake of breath as you walk through the threshold. 
As soon as you do, a line of dancers on each side of you start moving to the music that begins playing, elegantly leading the way down the aisle and towards Beomgyu in the distance. You can’t see him well from all the way over here, and you lean on the queen and try to focus on the delicate moves of the dancers as you move forward, little bursts of sun glimmering in your vision from your decorated veil, the light scattering further when refracted by the tears in your eyes–tears of happiness, tears of melancholy, they all mix together until you can’t distinguish between the two. 
You start to swoon as the queen leads you up the marble stairs and to the platform Beomgyu is standing on. Traditionally, your father would be the one giving you away, but Beomgyu didn’t want to put you through that. He didn’t want you to have to face your family on the day that is supposed to be the most joyful of your life, and so he spread word that your mother was sick and your father had to stay behind to attend to her, but that they both begged you to go along with the wedding and not postpone it. That way you’d all come across as wonderful, selfless people, just the image Beomgyu liked to sell. 
Beomgyu doesn’t wait until you’re all the way up the stairs. Instead, he meets you halfway, taking you from his mother and leading you the rest of the way to the chorus of ohhs and ahhs at the eagerness of the love-struck king. 
You are so close to fainting now, and as Beomgyu starts to lift your veil, your hands almost shoot out to stop him. 
But with the dazzling yellow reflections out of your sight and Beomgyu’s radiant face coming into view, your world goes back into sharp focus. Standing in front of you isn’t a strange man who doesn’t know his own heart, let alone how to let you into it. It’s Beomgyu, the only person as sure of his love as you are, adorned in his white and golden attire and holding everything you’ve ever wanted in his being, looking at you like you hold his own world in your hands. Nothing else matters. 
There is no hesitation from either of you as you relay your vows out loud, a sense of giddiness and almost urgency coloring the fanciful promises that pale in comparison to what you’ve already proven you’d do for eachother. You don’t take your eyes off one another for even a second, and as soon as the priest announces you husband and wife, you’re swept up in a kiss that you couldn’t tell which one of you initiated. 
The following celebration is held almost entirely outside as you share your joy with the whole city–Beomgyu seemingly intent on making up for all the times he had to hide you by proudly parading you around in front of everyone. 
You have your first dance in the spacious courtyard of the grand temple. The orchestra playing is large, as was required in order to allow the music to be carried out in the open area. It also had the added bonus of involving not only the royal's musicians but some of the more talented musicians from the common folk. Such involvement of the people in the wedding preparation and ceremony allowed the public to feel personally involved and attached to it, therefore strengthening their loyalty. It also led to some of them being paid handsomely for their contribution and further cemented Beomgyu's reputation as the kind and generous king. 
It’s an incredibly emotional moment for you. You don’t want to cry yet again but you can’t help yourself–standing here in the middle of the grandiose courtyard as not just the people present, but the heavens themselves look down on the first act of your long estranged souls claiming each other again. 
It somehow felt sacrilegious, and perhaps it is. 
After all, Beomgyu committed some rather grave sins in order to make your union possible. Maybe you should be hiding. Maybe you shouldn’t be parading around like this right under the noses of the scorned gods. But it still means so much to you that he’s doing all of this for you–the devil’s revolt for the sake of love–and you honestly can’t tell if the cold surge of nerves that freezes your lungs is because of the fear that you’re partaking in this horrible sin or because of the exhilaration of finally getting what you’ve always wished for.  
You try not to think about it much, pressing closer to Beomgyu to ward off the coldness as you let him guide you, starting from the movement of your feet up to the swelling of your chest as you take in your breaths. You follow his lead–taking one breath in and then out, just like he’s doing, and that’s when you discover how feverish he is too, his breathing shallow and rapid as he peers at you, cheeks flushed and irises barely visible. You wonder if he too can’t see the faces of those around you, if whatever mangled mixture of fear and ecstasy is only letting him focus on the person in front of him and nobody and nothing else in the universe. 
“You look… ethereal.” He confirms your suspicions, speaking with the little air he manages to breathe in. “The most beautiful creature the gods have ever created. And I can’t believe I finally get to call you mine.” 
He’s saying that to you? The man so beautiful you’ve doomed your everlasting soul to hell just to stay with him? 
But you don’t say anything. There is no need. You’re here, aren’t you? That’s all that needs to be said really. So you rest your cheek against his chest and let the beat of his heart overpower your weaker rhythm. 
The position greatly hampers the dance but Beomgyu refuses to separate you from himself to execute the moves and you refuse to let go of him. You don’t care. Let the dancers entertain the crowd. You need this more than them. 
After the first dance, the cake is served, and it is huge, superfluously so. It also required a ton of workers to make–just like the orchestra and the extravagant decorations adorning the city. It was made in the shape of the palace and you’re struck by how skillfully it was made and how similar it really looks to the palace. 
You’re given the first bite, another hidden affirmation by Beomgyu that he and all his wealth now belong to you. But the cake is so big, almost everyone gets to have a taste, even including a sizable portion of the common folk gathered around. 
The rest of the celebration is held outside of the temple walls and in the heart of the city itself that bears witness to the odd mingling of the nobles and the common folk in a strange dance that is the first of its kind. Both factions treat each other like strange zoo animals, with fascination yet guardedness, and maybe that’s for the best because it prevents any major instances from happening and disrupting the celebration. 
Of course, there are a multitude of guards keeping the peace, and especially protecting you and the royal family, but this kind of interaction is still unprecedented. But that’s to be expected from “the people’s king”. 
The city is abuzz with excitement, and even as the evening descends, the moon casts a soft, soothing shade of yellow on everyone present.
Aside from the celestial decorations and delicious snacks and drinks provided by the palace, there are dozens of booths manned by various common people to sell their wares to the crowd gathered, and you see the noble and rich flock to them to indulge in the odd street food here and there or buy overpriced trinkets to remind themselves of this strange day when they’re back safe and comfortable inside their gilded mansions. It’s a win-win for everyone involved. 
Beomgyu really made the best out of this possible faux pas. He turned the awkward wedding into a festival of sorts–a day where the rich and poor, the privileged and disadvantaged can come together and celebrate beside each other the union of the kind, generous king Beomgyu and his loyal damsel in distress. 
“Would you like something to eat, my queen?” One of the servants passing out food approaches you, and you try not to act too startled by someone other than Beomgyu calling you “queen”. 
You take a look at what he’s holding to see an assortment of strange looking sweets, most of which you’ve never seen before, but it’s no surprise. You know Beomgyu has enlisted the help of cooks and bakers from all over the world, asking them to make the delicacies of their people just for you, and this must be the result. 
“Oh, I don’t know what to pick.” You hesitate, stumped in front of the wide variety in front of you. 
“Here, try this, my love.” Beomgyu offers, picking up a reddish piece of confection and bringing it to your mouth. You open up, taking a bite out of it and humming in pleasure. Not just because of the food–which tasted delightful–but because for the first time, you don’t feel the need to shy away from his public displays of affection. You’re his wife now. You’re allowed to be together like this. It might even be seen as endearing to some, as you’ve been told. 
“Hmm, is that strawberry?” You ask, and he shrugs. 
“I don’t know.” He answers, bending down and kissing you, tasting the candy on your lips. He pulls back, licking his own lips cheekily. “Yes, strawberry.” 
“What was that for?” You laugh, incredulous at the sudden kiss. 
He shrugs once more, as careless as a little boy. “You asked me what the flavor was.” 
“You have the rest of it in your hand. You could’ve tasted that.” You chastise, no edge to your voice at all. 
“Yes, but it tastes much sweeter from your lips.” He grins, popping the rest of the thing in his mouth before pulling you into another kiss. “What do you think? Is it sweeter?” 
You hum in agreement, your hands finding themselves around his neck, without any input from your brain, and pulling him into yet another kiss that is broken abruptly when you hear a familiar tune reach your ear. 
You pull away and turn to the band who just started a new song, a song that you know all too well. You snap your head back to Beomgyu who is grinning at you. “No! It’s that ridiculous song you used to sing to me all the time!” Your outraged cackle is carried into the heavens by the light air. 
“It’s not a ridiculous song.” He protests, acting wounded. “It was the clumsy confession of a lovesick little prince that you so savagely crushed every time. Do you know how much it hurt that you not only didn’t notice what I was hinting at but that you would make fun of me every time I sang it to you?” 
“Oh, you poor puppy.” You pout mockingly. “Maybe if you sang it better, I would’ve received your inelegant confession a little more kindly.” 
He gasps, scandalized. “How dare you? Maybe you just can’t remember how good I sounded.” 
Beomgyu starts belting out the sappy love song along with the music, attracting the attention of the people around you. You squeak, embarrassed at his display, and you try to hide behind your hands and step away but Beomgyu is having none of it. He is relishing how flustered he’s gotten you. It’s been so long since he has last pulled something like this or even that you’ve been in the mood to receive it. It reminded you of your younger years and Beomgyu won’t let this golden opportunity pass him by. 
He drags you in front of him and dances around with you to the song, all while shouting out the lines and cackling every few words. This dance is much more fun and lively than your first one as you finally start letting go and enjoying yourself. 
And the difference in response from the crowd is palpable as they cheer you on. You and Beomgyu dance and laugh and dance and laugh. You haven’t gotten a sip of alcohol the whole day but you feel drunk. For the first time you allow yourself to forget everything that led up to this moment. For the first time, you are just a silly, lovesick girl getting married to the man she’s loved all her life. For the first time, you let yourself buy into the revelry of everyone around you, let yourself think they really are happy for you. 
But then you see him, the crack in your perfect illusion, the stone thrown at your glass house.
Before you stands the man you met the last time you headed down to the city before beomgyu's marriage. The man Beomgyu introduced you to as Ryujin, and the man who now must see through all the lies Beomgyu has weaved.  He doesn’t say anything to you but you can see the recognition and realization in his eyes.
Your house of deceit shatters around you, driving thousands of shards into your liar’s skin, the pain ripping you out of your selfish fantasy. 
Beomgyu quickly notices the change in your demeanor, and he follows your petrified gaze to see the man that’s effortlessly terrorizing your thoughts. He bends down to whisper in your ear. “Relax, my love, he’s not going to say anything. He’s not that stupid as to risk all I’ve given him. He’ll shut up and keep taking my money and my help.” 
And that’s what it really is. No one will ever stand up to Beomgyu. They all have families to tend to, lives to live, jobs to protect–no one will ever risk that for something as trivial as the truth. Who cares if Beomgyu is lying and Taehyun is in the right? They will still stand behind Beomgyu because that’s what will bring them more profit, more stability, more gain. They’re all liars. 
And that’s when you see it. They don’t actually accept you. They’re not happy for you. They just want what you have to give. They smile at you the same way they smiled for Ryujin, and they would tear you apart the same way they did to her if it meant they had something to gain from it.
A second look at the crowd gathered around you transforms their kind smiles into duplicitous smirks, their happiness for you into greed for what they could take from you, their good wishes into poisonous intentions. 
You feel sick. You don’t want to dance anymore. You don’t even want to be here anymore. Every eye that lands on you feels like tongues of flames, every hand a potential strangler, every soul a demon waiting for your downfall.
You can’t do this anymore. You want to go back to the palace, to be safe and away from the hell Beomgyu built around you to keep you in his clutches. 
“Baby, baby, breathe.” Beomgyu cries urgently, and you realize you’re hyperventilating. 
“I want to go home.”
“But the celebration isn’t over.” He tries to dissuade you but you shake your head urgently. “Please, take me home.” 
One look at the desperation in your eyes and he’s whisking you away from everything, tucking you under his wing and hastening back to the palace. 
______________________________________
Beomgyu tries to hold back. He tries to coax you into opening up and calming down, but you know he can’t help his excitement. This is the day he’s been waiting for for years.
“Baby, he will never speak a word of it to anyone.” He assures you, his lips following close behind his words, sealing the promise in. 
And you know he’s most likely right, but neither possibility makes you feel much better. On the one hand, he stays silent just like all the others and Beomgyu has his way. On the other hand, he speaks up, causing a small ruckus but ultimately no one believes him and once again Beomgyu has his way. 
That’s the way it is and always will be. 
“Let’s just focus on ourselves, okay, love?” He murmurs, slowly stripping you of your dress, his lips covering every inch the fabric leaves exposed until soon enough, he’s on his knees, kissing your stomach behind which your baby lies. “Let’s focus on our child.” 
You have to give it up to Beomgyu. He outsmarted you and everyone else at every turn, and here you are, standing there like an obedient little doll as he hikes one of your legs over his shoulder before burying his face in your cunt, moaning out loud at the taste of you. He takes his fill of you, his tongue insinuating itself between your lips as he laps up your arousal eagerly. He has you right where he wanted, and you begged him for it too–begged for his messed up love and attention, and now you have it, till death do you part. 
"You're finally mine. I can’t believe you’re finally mine.” He murmurs in awe as if he didn’t meticulously plan and scheme for this very moment, as if he hadn’t been dictating and manipulating your every move until you ended up here. 
You should be happy. Damn it, be happy, you bitch. You wanted this. You did this. You caused this war and you abandoned the one man who allowed you to be your own person. So be fucking happy, give in to the pleasure and decadence Beomgyu is offering you, give into his sweet, poisonous temptation that you allowed him to feed you and be done with it. Stop hanging on the fence. It’s not fooling anyone, not Taehyun, and certainly not Beomgyu. 
But you can’t. You can’t just let the luxurious celebration or the soothing moonlight or his soft touches and earnest eyes make you forget what he did to arrive at this moment–the pain, the lies, the betrayal… He didn’t just hurt Taehyun, or his father and brother… he hurt you too. It was on a night just like this–maybe as beautiful to Ryujin’s eyes–when he took you against your will in order to ruin you for other men. He didn’t listen to you as you begged and pleaded for him to stop. He didn’t care that he was breaking your heart. All he cared about was ensuring that you stayed by his side and he was perfectly willing to break you in order to achieve that. 
He forced himself into every aspect of your life–he forced himself on you, he forced himself into your marriage, how he's working so hard to erase any sign of the life you had without him. 
No, this isn’t perfect. This is messed up, just like the both of you. 
"My queen. You are the only thing I ever wanted and now you’re mine."
Have you ever not been his?
He gets to his feet, making you taste yourself on his tongue as he kisses you. Then he tries to nudge you towards the bed but you remain fixed to the ground where you stand, giving him pause.
“Come on, need you, baby.” He pouts, kissing you, but you won’t kiss back, which makes him grow frustrated. “Please, won’t you let me have you?” 
You can’t hold it in. You can’t lie to yourself anymore. This is not the dream you’ve always wanted, this is the ghoulish version of your wishes that the gods are taunting you with for being such a wretched sinner. 
"Now you're asking?” The illusion of the perfect night shatters on your sharp words. Your dream wasn’t for free. It was built on tears and blood, some of them your own. “You didn't ask when you forced yourself on me."
"Baby…" He's shocked by you bringing it up again on your wedding night. Did he expect it to just be brushed aside and not mentioned again? He probably did. He never really owned up to it, just blamed it on you, made excuses for why he did it, tried to make you forget it even happened. 
He must’ve counted on you being dazzled by the glamor of it all, on you being swept off your feet by his extravagant show of courtship that you’d forget about all his atrocities even if for one night. But you suppose even someone as smart as him can fall prey to wishful thinking.  
"What? You’re uncomfortable hearing what you did to me?" You mock cruelly and he winces. "I'm sorry." 
That makes you lose it and you slap him, unable to hold yourself back when faced with yet another lie spilling from his mouth. He holds his hand to his face in shock but doesn’t retaliate. 
"You're not sorry. You got what you wanted.” You sneer, anger bubbling up in your stomach and leaving a sour taste at the back of your throat. “But I want to hear you say it anyway. Show me how pretty you can lie.”
“Baby–” You slap him again, as hard as you can, and this time there are tears in his eyes as he looks back at you. “I’m sorry.” 
“On your knees.” You order him, and he obeys, slumping to his knees so hard the sound makes you cringe. But you refrain from showing him any mercy, drawing your hand back to slap him again, on both cheeks this time. 
He takes them in stride, quickly turning his face back to you following each one, apologies spilling from his tongue to attempt to assuage your wrath. 
But it’s not enough for you. “Say it more. Cry for me." You growl, hitting him again and again. 
"I'm so sorry. I’m sorry. I’m s-sorry."
You don’t know why you insist on hearing it when each time he says it, it fills you with more rage. Maybe it’s because you’re hoping to hear a genuine apology from him–hoping that one of his pathetic emulations of sorrow would sound close enough to the real thing to allow you to trick yourself into believing it. 
But your striking hand turns red and sore long before that fabled utterance leaves his mouth, and before his reddened cheeks and teary eyes beg you for a break.  
“Get up.” You scoff, dragging him up by his hair and throwing him on the bed, and he lets you throw his weight around without a fight. “Take your clothes off and lie down. Hands above your head.” 
You turn your back to him to go grab something that could be fashioned into restraints of some sort. You don’t have the luxury of having spare ropes lying around and maids paid and willing to restrain him the way he did to you, but you’ll make it work. 
You settle on a thin, long piece of cloth that you take with you back to the bed, only to find him still dressed. “What did I say?” 
Beomgyu flinches and starts taking his clothes off, mumbling, “Wanted you to look at me.” 
You scoff, glaring at him as he strips, but that’s good enough for Beomgyu. At least you’re paying attention to him. When he’s done, he lies down on the bed and you climb over him, tying his limp hands to the head of the bed and making sure he can’t get out of them. You are no expert in such things, and you may have put them on a little too tightly, but you don’t care. He deserves all the pain. 
“What are you going to do, my love?” He finally wagers to ask once you’re done. 
“What? Are you scared of what I am going to do to you?” You ask, and he shakes his head. “I know that whatever you do to me, I would’ve deserved it. But I also know that you love me and can’t be without me. So whatever you have in mind, do it. Take your revenge on me, hurt me, make me suffer, do whatever it takes to come back to me.” 
His words infuriate you more. How is it a punishment if he wants it? He can’t even give you that, can he? This is another means to an end for him, a way for him to get what he wants again. “You really don’t care, huh? As long as you get what you want, you’re willing to hurt yourself, hurt me, hurt anyone.” Your voice drips with spite. 
“It’s for the best.” He maintains and you rage, putting your hand over his mouth and nose, suffocating the words inside. “Shut. Up. Shut the fuck up.”
You keep your hand there for a while, smothering him, and yet he lies still, the only movements coming from him are the small jerks of his muscles as they try to jump into action to push you off before he prematurely aborts the action. He becomes so starved for air that the moment you release your hand, the breaths race to enter his body as he heaves them in, and yet you don’t hear a peep of protest from him. 
Whatever. You’ll find a way to make him hurt. You’ll find a way to have him begging for you to stop. If you’re going to let him win then you should at least make him suffer. Maybe then you wouldn’t feel as guilty for giving in.
“You want me, right? Did all of this just to get me?” You ask cryptically and he regards you warily as you climb up his body and position yourself over his face. “Then take your fill of me, baby.” 
You sit down on his face, smothering him before he gets the chance to regain his breath. You don’t know if Beomgyu doesn’t notice your intention or if he simply doesn’t care, because as soon as your pussy is on his mouth, he gets to work, kissing and licking at it as if he’s been waiting for you to do just that. 
Damn him to the seventh hell. 
You make sure to hold your sounds in as he all but devours you, his tongue sweeping along your slit, hungrily lapping up your juices that he so easily commands. Does holding back even make a difference when your body is always so honest with him? 
Yes, because Beomgyu is greedy. It’s not enough for him to have physical evidence of your desire and damning need for him, he also craves the spoken confessions, whether reluctant or enthusiastic he doesn’t care. He just wants you to say it. 
So you bite down on your lip until you taste blood, uncaring about how harshly you’re gripping his hair or how roughly you’re grinding yourself on his face. And Beomgyu takes it, eagerly mouthing at your pussy as his teary eyes peer up at you, pleading with you to say something. 
You hold in all the moans that struggle to get out when his lips wrap around your clit and suck, all the sighs that are trapped in your throat when he pushes his tongue inside you, all the “good boy”s that ache to burst out of you when he sticks his tongue out and lets you ride it. 
You only speak when the air in his lungs reaches a critical low and he finally starts choking under you. But you still don’t immediately get off him. 
"What's wrong? Want to breathe?" You taunt, and he whines into your pussy, arching his back and prompting you to glance backwards, your eyes landing on his leaking cock that is dripping onto his tummy. "You like this, you fucking pervert? Like choking on my pussy?"
He moans again, his body jerking under you from the lack of oxygen, and you finally rise up, letting him heave in some much needed breaths. Then the idiot uses that precious air to whine, “Tell me I’m making you feel good.” 
“What does it matter what I’m feeling when it has always been about you.” You hiss, reaching back and taking his cock in your hand, jerking it off slowly. “As long as you get your cock wet, nothing else matters.”
He shakes his head harshly. “No, that’s not true. You don’t even have to touch me. Just let me make you feel good.” He whines, sticking his tongue out for you to sit on again, perfectly fine with you suffocating him if it meant he’d continue to taste you. 
But you don’t. He’s not getting what he wants. Instead you grab his tongue between your thumb and index finger and pull on it. 
“Bastard.” You sneer, spitting in his mouth, but once again, that only makes him moan. 
“You’re fucking crazy, you know that?” You mutter, letting his tongue go and he pulls it back in his mouth and swallows, smiling. “I know. I wear it like a badge of honor. I never would have gotten you if I wasn’t a little crazy.” 
“Are you proud of what you’ve done?” You question in disbelief.
“Hurting you? No. Everything else, yes.” 
“As if you could separate the two. It all hurt me.” You shake your head. “You’re a monster.” 
“And yet you want me. You love me. What does that make you?” 
“Yes, I am a monster too.” You finally admit, and he smiles, smug. “Should I show you how much of a monster I can be? Perhaps I should celebrate this night how you celebrated your first wedding and get someone to take you against your will, make you feel what it’s like.” 
"I know what it's like." He grits. 
"Oh, please. You dare compare what she did to you to what you did to me?"
“It’s the same, you just won’t admit it. You’re only angry she took what’s yours. You don’t care about how I feel or how much it hurt me. You’re even blaming me for it.”  He growls, smirking bitterly when you don’t deny it. “It doesn’t matter anyway. You would never let anyone else touch me.”
“You’re right. You’re only mine. I can’t let anyone else have you.” You tell him absentmindedly, an idea popping into your brain, and you ignore how his smile gets wide, getting off him. 
“Where are you going?” He asks worriedly. The crazy bastard would rather get slapped and smothered than lose your attention. Well, you’ll give him all your fucking attention. 
You return to the bed, brandishing a new item as you straddle his legs. He frowns at the sight of the dagger you’re now holding, the metal of it gleaming in the candlelight. 
“What are you going to do with that?” He questions you, and you chuckle, trailing the sharp tip from his belly button all the way up to his neck. “Are you scared now?” 
“No.” He answers steadily, craning his head back to expose more of his neck for you. "Come on, kill me and save your precious murderer." He taunts carelessly, "You can't do it. You can't live without me."
“Oh, puppy, I know. And I know you know. You know me so well, as I know you.” You drawl, moving the knife slowly back down towards you. “And I know the one thing you’re scared of… losing me.” 
At that, you raise the dagger up and put it to your own neck, and just like that, his expression dramatically changes. 
“What are you doing? Careful.” He scolds, all confidence fleeing from his body. 
You cock your head at him curiously. “What? Scared I’ll hurt myself?” You taunt, moving the dagger downwards and pressing it against your chest.. 
“This isn’t funny.” Beomgyu tenses. 
“Oh, but I disagree.” You laugh, wincing a bit as you drag the knife over the skin above your left breast. 
“Stop it!” He screams, attempting to get out of his binds for the first time. His eyes follow the trail of blood slowly seeping out of the superficial wound. 
“But it just got interesting.” You mock, making another cut and causing Beomgyu to scream. “Please, I’m sorry. I’ll do anything, just stop it.” 
“What can you do?” You bark, “Go back in time and not rape me? Stop yourself from interfering in my marriage? Not start a fucking war to get me back?”
He clamps his mouth shut and you mutter dejectedly. “No. Of course not.”
You grab his cock again, stroking it. You pay close attention to his reactions as he tries to stay focused, tries not to let his brain fog up at the pleasure, but your touches are deliberate and purposeful, touching him just the way you know he likes, and before long you hear his little frustrated puffs of restrained pleasure. 
“Does that feel good, puppy?” You purr, gliding your pussy over the base of his cock while you cradle the head of his cock in your palm, your thumb swiping at the sensitive spot just under the tip. 
“Yes.” He huffs, still valiantly trying to stay alert but you can see the haziness taking over his eyes as he peers through his long lashes at where you’re touching. “You know just how to touch me to have me wrapped around your fingers. Please, just fuck me and forget about all this madness.” 
“Easy for you to say when you’ve gotten everything you ever wanted.” You circle your hand around the head of his cock and move it in a twisting motion that has his jaw slackening and whatever comeback he had die on his tongue. 
“Do you want my pussy?” You ask curiously as if you don’t know, rising up on your knees and lining his cock with your entrance before sinking down the slightest bit, letting the flushed head breach your hole before quickly taking it out. 
“Oh, please!” He mewls, his hips pushing up to chase your warmth. 
“Stay down.” You suddenly growl, all fake sweetness gone from your voice as you point the dagger back at yourself and Beomgyu immediately stills, whimpering, “Okay, okay, just put that down.” 
“Don’t fucking tell me what to do. You’re not in control here.” You spit at him, wishing that by saying it you could grow to believe it. For his part, Beomgyu nods obediently, keeping his mouth shut. 
You sink down on his tip once again, letting him enjoy the warmth for a few seconds before pulling off him. You repeat the same thing over and over again, for no reason other than to see him pant and whimper and struggle to stay still. 
“Does it hurt, puppy? Look how red your cock is. You must be dying to bury it inside my. tight. wet. pussy.” You tease him, punctuating every word by giving him a short taste of your pussy. 
“Yes, hurts so bad. Need you so much.” He sniffles. 
“Yeah.” You coo, sickeningly sweet to distract him from the coming attack, “Tell me, did it feel good when you forced me to take your cock on your wedding night?” 
Immediately, his defenses go up. “I had to–” 
You press the dagger to his abdomen and make a long shallow slice that has him sucking in a sharp intake of air as the trail of the dagger blooms red. “Don’t you dare lie to me. You came. That must mean you liked it. Or was that something that you had to do too?” 
Beomgyu chews on his lip anxiously, afraid to say anything that would push you off the edge right now when even his excuses can give rise to such an outraged response from you. 
“No, you just wanted to claim me. You couldn’t handle another man taking me when you’ve worked so hard on me.” 
He tries to reach out to you but the restraints keep him in place so he settles on whimpering, “I just loved you too much to let you go.” 
“Well, here I am.” You grab his cock, lining your pussy up with it before sinking down on it, sighing, “There you go, just what you wanted. Are you happy now?” 
“No. Want you to be happy first.” 
“Stop lying.” You hiss, making a deeper cut over where his heart lies. “This has only ever been about you.” 
Beomgyu he shakes his head in denial still, letting you marr his skin the same way he marred your soul. 
“No? So if I told you that I would be happier dead, you’d let me go?” You ask threateningly, pointing the dagger at your belly. “If I told you I don’t want this child, would you let me carve it out?” 
“You wouldn’t.” He croaks, tears filling up his widened eyes. 
“Are you sure about that?” You bottle up every icy tendril of fear trying to grip your heart as you dig the tip of the dagger into your skin. Beomgyu completely loses it, starting to yank harshly on his binds so hard it rattles the bed and almost throws you off. 
“Good job, Beomgyu. You almost made me stab myself.” You lie but he immediately ceases his struggle. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." 
"Stop saying that! You're not sorry." You shout at him, and he wails as you cut yourself again.
“Please, I’ll do anything. Just don’t hurt yourself. Don’t leave me. Please, stop this.” He cries inconsolably, large teardrops splashing down his red cheeks. “If you don’t want the child then we can get rid of it. Just don’t leave me.” 
That stops you in your tracks. “You would give up our child?” You ask incredulously and he nods. “I would do anything for us to stay together.” 
His words unsettle you deeply. So even the child you’ve both been dreaming of can be sacrificed in his relentless pursuit of you? What will he not do in order to keep you? Is anything sacred to this monster you love? 
Beomgyu grows uneasy at your silence and he calls out to you in a weak voice. “Princess…My queen, please say something.”
“There is no redemption for you, is there?” You ask, and he presses his lips together stubbornly. “I don’t want redemption. I just want you.” 
And there it is, proof that there is no redemption for you either–the tightening of your chest at his heretical proclamation of his love for you.  
“You’ve ruined me. I should hate you. I should kill you… but you’re in my blood like poison.” You mutter bitterly, clenching your pussy around him in a way that has him bucking his hips up into you. You suck in a sharp breath at the spike in pleasure as his length fills you up to the brim. 
”But none of that matters to you, does it? As long as you get to fuck me, to own me.” If it’s hypocritical for you to say that while bouncing on his cock then the irony is not lost on you, but who do you have to impress anyway? Beomgyu knows you too well for that. “You only think with this cock.” 
He shakes his head but his hips have a mind of their own and they continue to thrust up into you so you discard the dagger and press your hands against them to keep them in place. “No. Down boy. You will lie back and take what I give you. Just like you did to me.” 
He whimpers pathetically but obeys. Only when you’re sure he’s not going to move do you start moving over his cock again, bringing forth more pathetic cries from him. 
“There you go, cry louder for me, my monster.” You sneer, your nails digging into his flesh as you ride him ruthlessly. 
“Yes, anything you want.” He babbles, struggling to keep his eyes from rolling back. 
“This must be heaven for you, marrying me, knocking me up… it’s everything your twisted mind wanted.” 
He nods shamelessly. “Waited so long.” 
“How does it feel then?”
“So sweet. So–ahh–so good.” 
“You want to cum, don’t you?” You narrow your eyes at him and he nods eagerly. “Already? God, you’re pathetic.” You degrade him but Beomgyu doesn’t care, eating it all up. “Only for you.”
“I know.” You say dismissively, as if you don’t crave that validation just as much as he craves your attention. “Cum then. Spend your seed inside me.”
“Yes, my queen.” He answers with the devotion of a priest offering up a sacrifice to their god. You feel his warm seed filling you up and you slide your hips against him deliberately, milking his cock. “That’s it. Does that feel good?” 
He nods. “Y-yeah… so good. Want to make you f–fuck–feel good too.” 
“Aw, how sweet. Why don’t you then?” You coo, picking up your pace over his spent cock once more. 
Beomgyu’s look of shock only lasts a second before realization sets in. But he bites his lip, holding in his cries of overstimulation. 
“What? You’re not going to beg me to stop?” You ask mockingly and Beomgyu shakes his head. “No. You can use me however you want. I’m yours to break.” 
Your lip curls up in a sneer. Once again, he won’t give you the satisfaction of having hurt him. You’re almost tempted to grab the dagger you had discarded just to make him freak out again. 
But you’re painfully close and edging yourself while letting him cum doesn’t exactly sound like a punishment for him. So you trade your energetic bouncing on his cock for more deliberate swivels of your hips that allow you to snake your hand between your legs to rub at your clit. 
Beomgyu eyes immediately follow your action. “Untie me. I want to do that for you.” 
“Oh, you want to? So I should let you, because Beomgyu always gets whatever the fuck he wants, huh? No one else matters.” 
Beomgyu shakes his head harshly, crying pitifully, frustrated that you’re twisting his words. “No. That’s not it. Just want to make you feel good.” 
But you won't give him a break, even if he's all pussydrunk. “Want. Again, it’s all about what you want.” 
“No, no, no…” He wails, shaking his head in denial, his mind too fogged up to argue with you.
“Don’t lie, Beomgyu. You said you wanted to fill me up every night, right? So do it. Cum in me until you ruin me for everyone else, just like I know you want.” You goad him. “Claim me just like the animal you are.” 
“Yes, my queen. Anything you want. I love you so much.” He sobs as he cums a second time, not trying to deny your filthy allegations anymore. As his hips buck up, frenzied by the second orgasm, he pushes you over the edge too, the both of you shuddering in ecstasy, joined together like you are meant to. 
Orgasming together with Beomgyu always feels almost spiritual, the way the barrier between your two beings blur and for a few seconds you become one. In those few seconds of utter bliss, you feel like you might just tumble into his body and never come out again. 
It’s an intense feeling and it leaves you exhausted, the both of you, but that doesn’t mean that you’re going to give him a break. Powering through the discomfort, you keep riding him, not giving him a moment’s reprieve, and Beomgyu’s body twists and squirms under your merciless ministration. 
“No more. Please stop.” 
“What? Don’t you want me anymore? You did such disgusting, sick things for this pussy, didn’t you? Acted like a rabid dog and tore down anyone who stood between you and me but now you want to stop? No, you're going to lie there and fucking take it.” 
“Please, p-please, aghhh—no more.” Beomgyu cries, his body contorting under you but you hold him in place, your hands bruising his slender body. 
You laugh at his struggle. “Come one, Beomgyu, you don’t expect me to stop just because you’re begging me to now, don’t you? That’s not what you taught me. So come on, be a good mutt and take it.”
Your pace is brutal, the fury coursing through your body searing off your nerves until you can’t feel the overstimulation and the pain anymore, the only thing on your mind is to make him hurt for what he did to you. 
And he does, cumming and crying, crying and cumming. You don’t really know how many times he orgasmed because after a couple of times, his drained balls didn’t have any more seed to give you. But his tears never stopped, overtaking his useless pleas until nothing but garbled cries left his swollen lips. 
“Nghhh–ahhh, pl…ease…” You hear Beomgyu croak when you finally slow down, and you look at his face to see it drenched with tears and drool–his lips bitten raw, his pupils dilated, his cheeks flushed, and his whole expression fucked out. “C-can’t…” 
He manages to articulate what you can plainly see. He can’t handle any more. His body trembles beneath you, and his limbs fall uselessly against the bed. He has no fight left in him. 
You grab the dagger again and point it at him. He doesn’t react, no more wise words, no more challenges, he just stares at you and waits, entirely drained. So then you direct it at yourself and he musters up energy from thin air to beg, “Don’t… leave…me.”
Beomgyu is not afraid of death. He’s afraid of being without you. You know what that feels like all too well. Isn’t that why you haven’t killed him yet? 
You use the knife to cut off his restraints, and as soon as he’s free, he reaches out to you, weakly, powerlessly, but you let him take you into his arms, embracing you like the devil welcoming a sinner to hell. 
There are dark circles under his eyes and the both of you are covered in blood but his smile is serene as he looks at you. “We finally belong to each other.” 
“I have always belonged to you, Beomgyu.” You reply defeatedly, finally giving up. 
_____________________________
A/N: next chapter is the final chapter so be sure to let me know your predictions/wishes for the end! i love to read your theories and hear your thoughts ❤️
also here's a poll. it won't affect the ending at all, i'm just curious lol
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ddejavvu · 1 year
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meiii meii meii meii
ahh I got offered an official paying contract at the school I’m a student teacher at and I’m buzzing because admittedly I’ve been working so hard for that as we’ve discussed and ahh idk I didn’t expect much praise for it but also didn’t expect none so it’s been a weird day which led me to tiktok for like ten minutes and now I’ve got thoughts ndjd
but wait hear me out, post prison dbf!spencer stealing shy reader away from a little celebratory dinner your dad is holding to give you some love, I love my shy pretty boy but I saw an edit today of him after prison and that alone made me blush, I just know he’d do anything for that reaction while also having to do almost nothing at all because the slightest praise from that man would have me melting
today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)
YAYYY congrats baby!! i've already gushed over this with you but i just want to make sure you know how insanely proud i am of you and your achievements!!! <333333
this post is 18+ (and so are its characters) because of an age gap, minors dni.
Spencer feels weird walking into the women's bathroom. But hey, what are they going to do, arrest him? Been there, done that. He catches you by the sink, the edge of your thumbnail scraping away stray lip gloss you've just applied.
"Spencer!" You gush, eyes going wide as you see him in the mirror, "What are you doing here?"
"Getting you alone," He murmurs, lining his hips up with yours and hugging you from behind around the waist. He leans his face into your shoulder, dotting kisses down your skin, "I'm so proud of you, y'know?"
"Someone might see us," You warn, but his lips are addictive, and you don't want them parting from your skin.
""Then let's move," Spencer pulls you away from the sink by your waist, leading you into one of the stalls against the opposite wall. As soon as the door swings shut he takes your face in his hands, tilting it up so that your lips meet his.
"You're amazing," He hums, the words funneled straight into your mouth, down your throat, and to your heart. It pulses at Spencer's soft tone of voice, and you clutch the front of his jacket.
"Thanks for being here," You gush, lips brushing against his as you speak.
He leans more into the kiss as a response, tongue brushing over your lower lip before he hums, "Wouldn't miss it for the world, angel."
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