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#just imagine what that looks like to the other party members though
tiny-chubby-bird · 7 months
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took me way too embarrassingly long to realize that i dont HAVE to get a successful survival check to dig out treasure. if i can guess or if i know the location of it, i can just select the shovel and start digging it up anyway.
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stillmonsterz · 2 months
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brave it together
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pairing: jay x reader, jake x reader genre: smut, angst, slight humor summary: ever since you started your first year at sadame university three months ago, jay has been bothering you. you try to keep your head bowed down, but you're finding it harder and harder to keep to yourself. an approaching storm, a party, and your job at the university's library inadvertently lead to you being entangled in the clandestine world of the karma club. you're starting to discover that there's more to jay, and more to yourself, than you could have imagined. contains: unprotected sex, rape, noncon, drug usage, alcohol mention, manipulation, suicide, murder, death threats, infidelity, exhibitionism, physical violence, piss. word count: 24.6k
taglist: @moon7jay @ui11iane @belowbun
Sometimes you wished you could be someone else. You wished you could have been like the other girls at your university, the ones that crowd in groups, that go to the bathroom together to make sure that they’re all safe. Girls that talk about everything with each other, who share common interests and talk to each other about their own interests. Friends who would listen.
You wished that you could know what to say. You wished that you knew the right way to act, to speak, the right way to think to make people care. You wished you didn’t repel others.
You only wished for this sometimes. 
You’re stocking the shelves of the university’s library. It’s an easy campus job, one that pays decently. You’re here on a partial scholarship, so you tried to save money however you could. The library was one of the reasons why you applied here in the first place; it was well-stocked, had vaulted ceilings in the main room, and, to your delight, had physical copies of rare books. 
 All you wished for right now was for the day to end so you could go home, watch an awful 60s giallo with vibrant paint for blood and eye candy to ogle, and avoid an encounter from Jay. You weren’t in the mood today.
Isa, a girl two years above yours, pushed the metal cart replete with books and occasionally pointed out where they should go. She had been doing this since last year, so she had a far better idea of you about the layout of the library.
You crouched down to the carpeted floor, scouring the bottom-most shelf for the appropriate spot.  “Next to the copy of ‘Neuroscience for Dummies’,” Isa said idly, pointing with a well-manicured finger. Isa was red-headed and gorgeous, and had an impeccable sense of fashion; she was wearing a white cashmere sweater with a thick, plaid skirt, knee-high black socks, and leather shoes. On top of that, she was intelligent, friendly, and incredibly personable. You wondered why she wouldn’t go somewhere else and leave the library to losers such as yourself. 
“Thanks,” you muttered, placing the book in its proper place.
“You know,” Isa began. You lifted your head up to meet her eyes, which were sparkling with a mischievous glint. “You’d look pretty with some makeup.”
You blinked, uncertain of how to respond. “I’m not pretty right now?”
Isa waved her hands contritely and shook her head. “No, no, not at all. I mean, you are pretty, it’s just…you’d look even better with makeup.”
“Oh…” Grasping for another book, you avoided Isa’s gaze. Not only did you not believe her, but you wondered why she was telling you this. She was probably just messing with you. Even a saint would take one look at you and tell you to kill yourself. For whatever reason, people seemed to dislike you, as though you emitted a repelling odor. “Look better?”
“Yeah,” Isa said cheerfully. “If you look better, you’ll feel better, too.” 
“Maybe,” you said, shoving another book onto the shelf. 
“Seriously,” Isa continued, and you wished she would just drop it. “You could probably pull a Karma Club member if you tried.”
Now she was definitely just fucking with you. She of all people should know that guys like that would have very little interest in you; Isa was popular, and you had seen her and her friends hanging around some of the KC members. Whenever you saw her and Jay in the same place, you’d walk the other way. Thankfully, Jay tended to spare you the humiliation of being mocked in front of others. He preferred to do it when no one was looking. “I’d rather not,” you replied, feeling around for another book from the cart. Isa handed you one, and you shuffled away to shelve it.
“Aw, why not?”
“They’re…weird,” you said simply. 
“They’re not all bad,” Isa said, and you slowly turned your head to glance up at her. Isa’s face was sheepish, and she was toying with her bracelet. Jesus. She liked one of them? Having a crush on a Karma Club member was practically a form of hybristophilia. You wondered which one she liked. Probably Jake, the nice one. 
Isa started to speak again, but some male student came up to her. “The printer’s busted again,” he said with an eye roll. 
“Annoying,” Isa muttered. “I’ll be back. Try not to have too much fun without me.” You gave her a curt nod and she gave you a thumbs-up before scampering off to save the day. You watched her retreating figure, then looked down at your hands. 
You reached up to grab another book from the cart, but someone’s hand rested on yours. First, your eyes traced the shoes (balenciaga sneakers) then up to his jeans (Levi’s, black, distressed), his Joy Division t-shirt, and finally, reluctantly, they settled on his face. Penetrating dark eyes framed by thick eyebrows, one of which was adorned by a silver eyebrow piercing looked down at you. His lips were fixed into their habitual crooked smirk. The heady scent of Tom Ford wafted from his body. 
“Yeah, you could be really pretty,” Jay said, batting his eyelashes. He grabbed your hand and jerked you upright, your chest hitting the metal cart as you staggered to your feet. “You could be a model, honestly.”
As always, you just stared at Jay blankly. What else could you do? The idea of begging him to stop or making some quippy little remark just made you cringe at yourself. Jay dropped your arm and walked behind you, rubbing your shoulders with a strong grip. You managed to avoid flinching, something you considered a small victory.
“Don’t know why Isa lied to you,” Jay whispered into your ear. “If you put lipstick on a pig, it’s still a pig. If you put some makeup on a prude, it’s still a frigid little bitch, wouldn’t you say?”
Clenched teeth, pursed lips, fixed gaze. That was how you dealt with Jay. You stared at the books directly in front of you, rearranging them in your head by height. 
Jay made a low noise at the back of his throat. “You know,” he began, and his thumbs dug into your shoulder blades, “I’m getting really sick of this mute shit. I know you can talk, prude. Say it. Say that you’re a bitch.” 
The Secret History of the Moon Landing is the tallest, from your direct line of sight. You could put it with Mars and its Mysteries: The Red Planet Uncovered, and then Pluto as a Planet. 
Jay’s fingers clenched around your shoulders painfully. “I told you to talk. Come on.”
You and Jay were obscured by the tall bookshelf in front of you, so when Isa’s sleek oxfords came into view, Jay slid his arms around your neck in what could be mistaken for an embrace. “Hey, Isa,” Jay said amicably, his chin resting on your shoulder. You finally looked away from the shelf.
“Hi, Jay,” Isa said, stopping just beside the book cart. Her gaze flicked from you to Jay to Jay’s arms around you. “I didn’t know you two knew each other.”
“Nah, her and I go way back,” Jay said, and you didn’t have to look at him to know that he had a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. “Been taking care of her since she got to Sad.” The school’s name was Sadame University, but everyone just called it Sad U or just Sad. 
Isa’s eyes kept flashing between you and Jay, and the genuine smile she normally wore had been replaced by a far less sanguine expression. “Oh, wow,” she said softly, fiddling with her charm bracelet again. 
Jay nodded, his black hair tickling your chin. “Mhm. I was just inviting her to come to the KC party with me, but she doesn’t want to come.” He tilted your chin towards him, so that you were forced to look at him. “You should go out more,” he said lightly, but his eyes betrayed him. 
You didn’t say a word. 
His hand dropped back down to your shoulder. “Doesn’t go out and doesn’t talk. How do you put up with her?” Jay’s voice was jovial, almost like you were really friends. 
Isa laughed, almost too enthusiastically. “I know, right? These are the best years of our life, you know? Can’t waste ‘em inside all the time.” Does she seriously believe that shit? 
“Yeah, you should listen to your cute friend more often,” Jay said, shaking you once before clapping you on the back and letting go of you. He nodded at Isa, who was preening in front of Jay. “You should come to the party, Isa. The storm party on Friday, at Yeonjun’s. You know where his place is?”
“No, I don’t,” Isa said, tilting her head. Her glossy lips were pursed, and she admittedly looked really cute. If you didn’t know what kind of person Jay really was, you would think that they would make a good couple based on looks alone. Studious and playful Isa with pierced, crude Jay.  A bunny with a wolf. 
“I’ll take you,” Jay said, striding towards her. “You got my number?” 
“I have your Snap, I think.”
They exchanged numbers. You went back to stocking books. 
After a lengthy conversation that you had tuned out, you felt Jay ruffle your hair. “See you around, prude,” he whispered before walking away. His hands were shoved in his pockets. 
Isa stared after him before turning to you and biting her lip. “I didn’t know you knew Jay,” Isa said, her tone playfully accusatory. “You sly vixen.”
“You know him?”
Isa paused. “You could say that. He’s cute.”
“I didn’t know he was your type,” you said simply. “I thought you’d be into, uh, Jake.”
Isa snorted. “Nah, didn’t you hear?”
“No, what?”
Isa giggled before leaning in, as though she was telling a trade secret. “I heard that Jake is kind of a dick.”
– 
You had become disillusioned with the Karma Club mere hours into your first day at Sadame University. During an idle walk around the campus after your first class, you had ended up near a warehouse next to the facility where the sporting equipment was kept. There, you had seen a tanned, lean man standing in front of an equally tall person who was caged against the wall of the warehouse. You lingered in the parking lot facing the warehouse, hiding yourself behind one of the staff’s pick-up trucks. 
The tanned one, clad in all black, was goading the other one. A third person, an almost eerily-pale man wearing a brown blazer with a turtleneck and black slacks, was watching from a safe distance. 
“Go on,” the one in all black said. “Hit me. Unless you’re too pussy.”
Finally, the one pressed against the wall landed a feeble punch on his assailant’s cheek. The two other men looked at each other before bursting out into laughter. 
“At least pretend to be hurt, Jay,” the pale one had said, clapping his friend on the back. “You’re making him look bad.”
“You’re right,” Jay had said, clearing his throat. He pretended to be blown backwards, and his friend laughed even harder. Jay righted himself. You couldn’t see his face from this angle, but his body language seemed so tense, reminiscent of a dog with raised hackles. The guy who had thrown the punch at Jay looked confused and embarrassed, almost meek.
“Hey. You hit me first,” Jay had said. “Didn’t he, Sunghoon?”
“He did,” Sunghoon had said, nodding sagely. “He…I think he bruised you, Jay.”
“Bruised me,” Jay said, cracking his knuckles. “So this is a fight now.” With that, Jay had released an onslaught of punches onto the guy’s body. You were a fair distance away from the fight, if you could call it that, but you could still hear the thump of skin on skin. As Jay continued to wail on him, the guy slowly crumpled to his feet and shielded himself from the hits, covering his face with his arms. Sunghoon just watched, still laughing to himself. 
Jay had spit on the dirt. He had said something you couldn’t hear before digging his hands into his pockets. As he surveyed the school grounds, maybe for witnesses, his eyes landed directly on you. You stared back at him, your stomach dropping. You really hadn’t wanted to be involved in whatever hazing ritual this was. You hid yourself behind the truck again, to no avail. Jay stalked towards you, putting his hand up so that Sunghoon wouldn’t follow. 
You leaned against the trunk of the pick-up truck, and Jay stood in front of you. He assessed you for a nearly unbearably long time, taking in your appearance from your toes to your head. He crossed his arms and caught your gaze. An unexpected smile graced his lips, revealing a deep dimple on his cheek. He was unmistakably handsome. 
“Hey. No need to be scared. That was just something between friends,” Jay had said, his voice devoid of the haughtiness you’d heard earlier.  “We were just playing.”
You nodded, your hands clutching the straps of your backpack. Like you were a kid. 
Jay had frowned, scratching the back of his head. Then he stuck his hand out, regaining his smile. “I’m Jay, Jay Park. I’m a business major. Third year.”
You could see where his knuckles had split because of how hard he had hit that guy, and you were so captured by the sight that you didn’t shake his hand or talk. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. Sometimes you just forgot to talk. 
“Hey,” Jay said, and your eyes flickered back up to his face. HIs smile had completely disappeared, and you wondered if it had been very difficult for him to maintain a veneer of civility. “Don’t be rude. What’s your name?” 
You told him your name, withholding your major. 
“Never heard of you,” he had said with a sniff, withdrawing his hand. “Are you new?”
You nodded again. 
“Jesus.” Jay stepped closer to you, and somehow the frustration dripping from his voice and painted on his face was familiar. “Do you talk?”
“If I know someone,” you said.
Jay had laughed mirthlessly. “Aren’t you special? ‘I’m too good to talk to other people, I’m so mysterious, look at me!’ Anyone ever tell you that that shit isn’t cute?”
Plenty of times, you had thought. Instead of saying that, you just shrugged. 
“Fucking weirdo,” Jay had muttered. “Look, don’t say anything to anyone about this, okay? Or else I’ll…”
“Or else what?”
Jay scoffed and slammed one hand next to your head, his rings scraping the exterior truck. His face had craned towards your own, and his eyes flickered with a cold, sadistic gleam. “Or else…” Jay had leaned in towards your ear, whispering, “Or else I’ll do something really, really bad.”
With that, he hit the truck once more for good measure and strode away. His friend Sunghoon had followed behind him, casting a withering glance at you as he crossed the parking lot. 
You didn’t look back at the person Jay had beat up. You just walked to your next lecture hall, sat down, and tried to focus.
You hadn’t known it then, but that had been your first encounter with two of the members of the Karma Club. Through sheer social osmosis over the past three months, you had learnt about them - more than you had ever wanted to, really. The Karma Club was an exclusive society that had been founded at Sadame some time in the 60s. The idea was to round up the richest, most powerful students -or, alternatively, the students who wanted to have a “lot of fucking fun”- and give them carte blanche to do whatever they wanted.
 Students is a broad term for them. There’s never been a female member of Karma Club to date. The closest a woman could get to being punched is to date one of the members, although you don’t see why anyone would want that. They’re attractive, sure, but between the stories you’ve heard, the things you’ve seen, and what you’ve experienced, you’d rather toss yourself off of the roof than date a member of that stupid fucking club. 
There were seven members: Heeseung Lee, Sunghoon Park, Jake Sim, Sunoo Kim, Jungwon Yang, Nishimura Riki, and Jay Park. Generally, people either tried to avoid the members, or they did everything they could to get their attention. Apparently last year Sunoo had gotten pissed off at the Sad U cheerleading team and put laxatives in their pre-game protein shakes, but they all showed up to his birthday party the following month anyways. There was another rumour, that Heeseung had vandalized the interior of an upscale restaurant in the city because his girlfriend didn’t like the hors d’oeuvres. 
You figured that Jay Park fit squarely into the “richest and most powerful” student category, because you had never witnessed him have fun, at least in the traditional sense. When he smiled, it was generally because someone else was in pain. The only smile you’d seen him wear was that self-satisfied smirk.
At any rate, there it was. Your first introduction to the Karma Club, your first meeting with Jay, and the last time a man had voluntarily spoken to you at school. Go figure.
– 
After your unfortunate encounter with Jay in the library, you needed a pick-me-up, and fast. You made a beeline for the smoothie shop in the Stopkewich dorms. Your university had four colleges: Stopkewich, where the liberal arts majors tended to stay, Fawcett, where most of the dorm parties took place, Nakashima, the unofficial home of the STEM majors, and Stoker college, where the most affluent students lived. It was there that the Karma Club resided, in a tall, red brick building surrounded by oak trees marked by a large, multi-tiered fountain. 
Stopkewich was more conservative, a simple light brick college with a stone path leading into one of the entrances. Groups of people milled about under copses of trees or rested on the plush, well-maintained grass. It was a dreary day, but the weather was mild. As you walked through the door, you wished that you had chosen this college instead. You had decided to be practical and chose the college whose classes were closest to your own dorm, so you had chosen Fawcett. Without any knowledge of the intricate culture behind the colleges, you had ended up in the loudest one. Worse yet, you couldn’t switch out of it. 
Every college had their own restaurants. Stopkewich’s smoothie shop was situated right next to their vegan and gluten-free place, staffed by two enthusiastic, perky goths. To your delight, your favourite worker was there, refilling the bucket of biodegradable straws. 
“Hi, Lily,” you said, walking to the counter. A girl with pink hair, large eyes, and a wide smile turned to look at you.
“Hey,” she said brightly. “You want to try my newest concoction?”
“Sure, what is it?”
“It’s going to be passionfruit, mango, strawberry…”
You shrugged. “Sounds standard so far.”
“And maca root,” she added, holding up a tuberous plant with a wicked grin.
“Isn’t that…doesn’t that boost fertility?” you asked suspiciously.
Lily pulled out a bamboo cutting board and started chopping the root into tiny pieces. “No clue. I bought it because it sounded like macaroon. They never should have let my goofy ass buy the ingredients.”
“I see.”
Lily tossed the root into the blender and started heaping fruits inside of it. “Have you heard about that storm that’s coming?”
You sat down on one of the bright red stools while you waited. “No.”
“It’s supposed to be bad,” she said, turning on the blender. She raised her voice so she could be heard over the noise. “They’re saying we might lose power.”
“When?” you yelled.
“This Friday.” Lily turned off the blender and poured the smoothie into a glass jar. If you brought ten glass jars to the smoothie shop, they’d give you a free smoothie. You were gunning for a free smoothie by the end of the week. 
You paid for the drink with your campus card and took a sip. “Well?” she asked expectantly, leaning over the counter. 
“It’s good,” you said, staring down at the vibrantly-coloured smoothie. “Can’t even taste the fertility.”
“Another win for me,” she said, wiping down the counter. 
“Thanks, Lily.”
Lily shot a finger gun at you and winked. “That’s what I’m here for.”
You continued to drink your smoothie, swinging your feet as you sat on the colourful stool. Normally, you didn’t like to linger in public spaces, but Jay never came to Stopkewich. Lily was so calm and friendly, and she didn’t pressure you to talk, so you weren’t in a rush to leave.
“You know, you’re my favourite customer,” Lily said. 
You smiled softly. “Really?”
“Mhm. The other day, one of those stupid Kum Club members came here and asked for something that wasn’t on the menu. I said I don’t do remix smoothies, and he got so mad.”
You didn’t have trouble picturing which one that could be. 
“Those guys are freaks,” Lily said, wiping her hands on her apron. “I swear I remember hearing that they tried to straight up murder someone in the bathroom over something silly.”
“That sounds a little far-fetched.” Jay was a dick, but you couldn’t imagine him killing someone in cold blood.
Lily pointed at you. “You’ve only been here for a few months, so you don’t know. The Karma Club is far-fetched. That’s how they get away with it.”
It was always a bit bittersweet, leaving Stopkewich. Here, you almost blended in. There were quite a few moody girls who dressed in long skirts and baggy sweaters, who kept their heads low and wore bulky over-ear headphones. They milled about, smoking joints wrapped with rose petals and sage, sitting in corners drawing. 
The short trek to Fawcett gave way to girls wearing trendy, cute crop tops with curve-fitting jeans and guys wearing the ugliest fucking outfits imaginable. You wondered what the point of being cute was when all you had to show for it were idiots wearing Nike techs? 
Navigating the halls of your college was always a task. Somehow, there was always a throng of people cluttering the halls. Isa lived in this college too, and would wave every time she saw you. Thankfully, you didn’t see her today, so you could safely slip inside of your dorm room. 
You threw yourself onto your bed and sighed deeply, allowing yourself to decompress. Soon, you would do your homework, blasting music to drown out the noises of young adult debauchery. Then, like every other night when the weather was good, you would sneak over to the library, use the entrance to the roof located on the third floor, and sit on the roof and smoke. It was one of your few acts of rebellion, although you doubted that willingly poisoning yourself could be considered an act of rebellion against anything besides good health. 
For now, you rested. 
The next day was more of the same. Long, tiresome classes, stint at the library, brief reprieve with Lily, then to your dorm room. Strangely enough, Jay hadn’t spoken to you. Over the past three months, you had grown accustomed to at least a “prude bitch” being tossed at you, or even more.
He had been getting worse. Lately, just like yesterday, he’s been touching you. You don’t know how you feel about it, nor do you know why his behavior has been escalating. 
When you walked into Fawcett again and headed left to get to your dorm room, you saw Jay and Jake Sim hovering near a bulletin-board. You’d be lying if you didn’t find Jake a little cute, despite the unsavoury things you had heard about him. He had tousled, dark brown hair and a wide smile. He was wearing the navy blue Sad U sweatshirt with a baggy pair of grey sweatpants. Seeing Jay standing next to him with a scowl on his face ruined the picture, however. 
“He’s always fucking late,” you heard Jay mutter. You figured that he was talking about Anton, one of the only Karma Club affiliates you knew that didn’t live in Stoker. He was rich enough, popular enough, and snarky enough, but maybe being around the Karma Club that often would drive you insane. Jay had accosted you a few times while he was waiting for Anton, but he had never had Jake in tow. In fact, you rarely saw Jake and Jay hang out. 
This didn’t concern you. You were about to turn on your heels and head back outside when you heard Jay call your name mockingly. When you looked up, he was beckoning you with his fingers lazily. 
That little motion pissed you off, so you decided to leave, clutching your little glass jar. As soon as you opened the heavy wooden doors, you felt hands grab you back. Jay was sneering at you. “Mute and blind, huh?” His grip on your sweater tightened. “You’re like a less fuckable Helen Keller.”
“Jesus.” Jake had sidled over to Jay and was looking at him with annoyance. “Leave her alone, Jay. Hasn’t it gotten old by now?”
Jay let go of your sweater, but his eyes still smoldered. “Didn’t see you wearing a cape.”
Jake crossed his arms. “Huh?”
“Look,” Jay said, shoving his bejeweled hands into his pockets, “I just didn’t know you still liked to stick your dick in crazy. That’s cool. I actually have a few exes you could hit u-,”
“I don’t have to want to fuck a girl to know when you’re being shitty to her for no reason,” Jake said, and his eyes rested on your face. You hated how gentle his gaze was. You couldn’t trust it. 
Jay developed a sly little smirk. “So you don’t want to fuck her?”
“No way,” Jake said hastily.  His gaze snapped to your face and he laughed nervously, scratching the nape of his neck. “I mean, you know, not in like, a bad way, just that, like…”
You’d rather have Jay call you a frigid whore for ten hours than hear anymore of this. When you tried to push past Jay to go to your dorm room, he grabbed your shoulders so harshly that the glass jar in your hand went flying. It shattered on the floor in the middle of the hallway, and bright red splatters of smoothie splattered onto the walls like a crude Jackson Pollock painting. 
You heard laughter behind you, and you pulled yourself away from Jay. He let you go, surprisingly. Sinking to your knees, you used your bare hands to pluck the worst shards of glass from the linoleum. “Leave it,” a voice whispered, and when you turned you saw Jake shaking his head. “Someone else will clean it up. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Someone might step on the glass,” you said quietly, still crouched on the floor. 
“Oh, boo-hoo, someone might step on the glass,” Jay said derisively. 
“Fuck’s sake, shut up,” Jake muttered. He gently pulled the glass out of your hands and set it on the floor. “I’ll go get a janitor, okay?”
“What do you want?” you whispered.
Jake scrunched his nose in confusion. “What?”
You shook your head. “Never mind.” 
“Hey,” Jake said softly. Belatedly, you realized that he had crouched to your level. “Tomorrow, Jay said he’s gonna visit Isa at the library. Do you want me to come along, to be kind of a buffer? I know he’s a dick to you.”
“Do whatever you want.” 
Jake just chuckled. “You’re not the friendliest, are you?”
You shrugged.
“I probably deserve it,” Jake said with a smile so good-natured, you almost smiled too. Thankfully, you caught a hold of yourself and stood upright. This wasn’t the first time that Jake had extended a modicum of kindness towards you. Two weeks ago, when Jay had “accidentally” spilled his energy drink all over your sweater, Jake had fished money out of his pocket and tucked it into your hand before catching up to Jay. Since then, Jake had been hanging around Jay more than Sunghoon did. You figured that Sunghoon was busy, or maybe they didn’t like each other anymore. Who knew? Who cared?
Jay sniffed. “So what?” he said, looking you up and down. “You only pull the selective mutism shit with me? I’m really hurt.”
You fought the urge to roll your eyes and walked away with your head bent, so you didn’t have to see the people who were invariably staring at you. Normally, Jay didn’t bother you in front of other people, just in crowded hallways, when he caught you going in-between classes, or in the library. 
As you were doing your schoolwork, a question began to form in your head, making itself wide, unavoidable, and encompassing. Why didn’t Jay just meet Isa in her dorm tomorrow? Why go to the library when she’ll be busy? He couldn’t even harass you in front of her, or at least as overtly as he normally did, so what was the point? 
That was always the question with Jay: what was the point?
After your classes on Wednesday was your job at the library. As you walked over to the main desk to check your tasks for the day, you spotted Jake, Jay, and Isa all talking. So Jake had shown up anyways. They were huddled by the desk, as though they were all co-conspirators. You noticed that Isa was wearing a black pleated skirt with a baggy t-shirt, a stark difference from her usual, more preppy style. As you approached, Isa turned to you and smiled.
“Hey,” she said, waving you towards her. You walked over to the desk, where she made a space for you to stand. You awkwardly positioned yourself between Isa and Jake, trying to avoid Jay’s eyes. “Let’s see. Today, we’re on shelving duty, we have to catalogue the newest shipment of books-,” Isa nodded at a sizable stack of pristine books, “and we have to load them into the online filing system.”
You nodded your understanding and grabbed the book list from the top of the book pile. 
“Hey,” Jake said. He grinned at you, his shaggy hair getting in his eyes. He flicked it out with the casual, unselfconscious ease of a surfer who had spent all morning riding waves. 
“Hi,” you said quietly. Jay was being unusually quiet, his arm slung around Isa’s shoulders. He looked directly at her, ignoring you for once. How lovely.
“So, uh…” Jake scratched the nape of his neck again. “ Yesterday, I noticed you had that smoothie…looked pretty good.”
“It was,” you replied, and Jake laughed a little. 
“Where’d you get it from? There aren’t any smoothie places on campus.”
“There is,” you said, pointing west. “Stopkewich has one.”
“Oh, damn. I had no clue. I don’t really go to Stopkewich that much.”
“You should go sometime,” Jay piped up, his voice as arrogant and snarky as usual. “There’s plenty of girls with daddy issues who’d let you do all sorts of weird, depraved shit to them.”
“You would know,” Jake retorted, and you couldn’t help but smile. 
Isa gasped. “Oh, wow. Jake, she’s actually smiling.” When the grin dropped off of your face, Isa pouted. “Aw, no. Your smile was actually so pretty. Wasn’t it, Jay?”
Jay looked at you and pursed his lips. “Yours is prettier, Isa,” he said, staring directly at you. You felt something stir in you, some foreign emotion, but you weren’t entirely sure what it was.
Isa smacked Jay playfully on his chest. “Don’t pit us girls against each other,” she said, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “I’m a girl’s girl, you know.”
You turned away from them and started to go around the desk. “I’ll start loading these into the computer now,” you said quietly. 
Jake reached out and grabbed your wrist. “Hey, wait,” he said, lowering his voice. “Did you want an invite to the party on Friday? The one at Yeonjun’s?”
You stared at his hand. “Why would I want one?”
Jake hesitated before letting go of you, shoving his hand into his pocket.  “I dunno. So you can go and maybe have fun?”
“She doesn’t have fun,” Jay said. So much venom leaked into his voice that even Isa looked caught off guard. His eyes were still trained on you. “She just sits inside all the time, doing her homework, knitting scarves, listening to fucking Mazzy Star.”
“What’s wrong with Mazzy Star?” Isa asked.
“Whiny, plebeian indie shit,” Jay said disdainfully, picking up one of the books on the desk with his spare hand before setting it down.
Isa pouted again. “I like Mazzy Star.”
Jay didn’t even look at her. “Great.”
Jake turned back to look at you. “Just think about it, okay? I can give you a formal invite. I know you aren’t the party type. I’m not really, either. Haven’t been for a while.”
You hesitated before saying, “I’ll think about it.” You turned your back to them and set about cataloging the new books, hefting the pile in your arms. You didn’t have to look behind you to know that Jay’s gaze was burning a hole in your back.
Later that night, you received a text from Isa as you lounged in bed knitting. Normally, you two only corresponded to discuss your job, so this was a surprise. You set down your needle and yarn and unlocked your phone. 
“could u come to the library rq?” she had texted. It reeked. What could possibly be happening there that would require your presence. As you were putting your phone back down, you got another text. 
“it’s jay” followed by “he’s acting really weird rn…”
Right. Isa thought that you and Jay were somehow friends, and she was probably too shy to ask Jake for help. So her boyfriend finally reared his ugly head, and now she was calling on you for help. Clearly, she couldn’t be in that much trouble if she could text you.
You shrugged a jacket over your nightgown, tugged your shoes on, pocketed a Swiss Army knife, and headed outside. You had no intentions of hurting anyone, but it made you feel sort of cool.
It was raining heavily, a prelude to the oncoming storm. You ran across campus with your hood up and headed to the library. It was its own building, nearly as big as one of the dorm buildings, which is why stocking the shelves was a two-person job. You pulled your keys from your pocket, opened the doors, and stepped inside.
Your shoes squelched on the welcome mat, so you took them off along with your wet socks. Isa hadn’t said what part of the library she was in. It was a tall, distinguished three story building - one floor for non-fiction books, one floor for fiction, and one floor with a little student-run cafe and a sprawling arrangement of tables and computers. You didn’t text her, in case she had covertly sent the message. She might actually be in trouble, and then where would you be? 
Your Swiss Army knife burnt a hole into your pocket as you walked around the dark library. The rain drummed on the windows, making it difficult to hear anything. The only light came from the moonlight streaming through the skylight and the lamps affixed to every wall that turned on automatically after 8 pm. 
Soon, you heard a strange noise coming from one of the aisles. Straining over the pitter-patter echoing from outside, you followed the noise to the back of the library.
You shoved your hand into your pocket and approached cautiously, moving lightly so as not to alert Jay. When you approached the aisle from whence the noise originated, you only peeked your head. You were promptly greeted with the sight of Isa and Jay, but not in any way you could have imagined.
Isa was on her knees, her head in between Jay’s legs. His pants pooled around his ankles, and his long, thin fingers were threaded through her red hair. The silver rings adorning his hands caught the moonlight and reflected it, so it looked like glittering teardrops through her long locks. Jay lazily bobbed her head back and forth, controlling the pace. The moonlight created a chiaroscuro effect on them both, painting Jay in darkness. 
He stared straight at you with an unreadable expression. His teeth were gritted, and his lips were parted slightly.  He made Isa go agonizingly slow, and she made an awful choking sound at the back of her throat as she took him in her mouth. 
You knew you should walk away, but something about it was so absurd that it was hard to look away. You had come here, partially expecting a crude prank from Jay, partially expecting Isa to surprise you with a makeover, and partially expecting Isa to join Jay in tormenting you, but not this. 
Jay’s eyes were cold and sharp as he parted his lips, licked them, then said, “Fuck, that’s so good.” He jerked her head forward onto his length, tugging at her hair roughly, and she choked again. You winced at the violent sound.
Why wouldn’t he look away? It was like he expected something from you, and you didn’t want to know what it was.
You left without another word, rubbing your eyes as you stepped away from the garish scene. He didn’t move, and Isa didn’t hear you. You shoved your socks and shoes back on and ran back out of the library, back into the spray. 
As you sprinted through the cold chill, the water seeping into your skin, you wondered why you had even shown up. How uncharacteristic of you, to get involved in the affairs of others. Why didn’t you just tell Isa that you would help her the next day? Why had you come? 
And why had Isa, or Jay, known that you would come?
When you got into bed, you tried to sleep, but the image of Isa on her knees and Jay’s eyes boring into your own wouldn’t leave your head. You tossed and turned, and that same unfamiliar feeling began to eat at your viscera. Gastric acid spilling out of your stomach, scorching your skin. 
Heat licking you in your most sensitive area.
– 
When you came into the library the next afternoon, Isa looked at you and smiled as usual. “Hey,” she said brightly. “Didn’t get much sleep last night?” 
You shook your head and sat down beside her; on Thursdays, you went through the list of those with late fees and sent them emails through the computer on the library’s main desk. “You?”
Isa gave you a mischievous look. “Mm…you could say someone kept me up last night. But I don’t kiss and tell.”
So she really had no clue. Meaning that either Jay had texted you through her phone so you could witness her giving him a blowjob, or you had made the entire thing up. 
“Um, Isa,” you said awkwardly. “Is it true that on iPhones, if you text someone Congratulations, your screen lights up with confetti? I have an Android, so…”
Isa nodded. “Yeah, it’s so cool!”
“Can you send me a text? I wanna see it.”
She pulled out her phone and quickly tapped out a text. Her screen showed that she hadn’t sent a text message to you since last week. You chose to interpret this as proof of the events of last night being completely fabricated, the result of an overactive imagination, a lack of social interaction, and sexual frustration.
“So cute,” you said as the confetti popped up on the screen. You figured you should say something.
“Isn’t it?” Isa said, sending more words. “There’s one for birthdays, and New Year’s Eve…”
As she spoke, you saw Jake and Jay walking towards you. Jay’s lips were screwed into a self-satisfied smirk, and Jake trailed him. Jay’s neck was littered with red and purple bruises, so you figured that that was why Isa was wearing a white turtleneck today. 
Isa blushed as soon as she saw Jay, and she leaned across the counter to give him a kiss. Jay’s smirk faltered as she did so, and he glanced between you and Isa. 
“You didn’t say anything?” he blurted out.
Isa frowned. “Say what?”
Jay gaped at you.  “Crazy fucking freak,” he muttered, and Isa lurched back as though she had been the one insulted. 
“Don’t be so mean,” she chided, and you felt a sudden warmth in your heart towards Isa. 
“Quit taking your shit out on her,” Jake added.
Jay looked at Jake and Isa, his head whipping around. He laughed once before stalking out of the library, creating a path through all of the students who jumped out of the way to avoid him. 
“I’m worried about him,” Isa said worriedly. “He’s been acting so strangely…”
Jake sighed and rested his hands on the desk. “Don’t know. He’s going through some stuff with his parents, so he’s been acting weirdly. He’s like this at the dorm, too. Him and Riki got into it the other night and now Riki is sleeping at Fawcett with some friend of his. It’s such a mess.”
“Sounds like a mess,” Isa said, folding her hands together and resting her head on them. “Poor Jay. I wish he would just talk to me. He must be hurting a lot.”
Christ.
After your shift at the library, you decided to eat at the Fawcett restaurant. Why not? The weather was disgusting, and you needed something substantial, something warm. You ordered something, some rice dish, and you listlessly ate  alone at one of the heavy oaken tables in the dining hall. As you ate, someone you don’t recognize slid into the seat in front of you. He had a shaved eyebrow, calculating eyes, and short black hair with blond highlights. 
“You’re her, right?” He said your name the same snide way that Jay always says it. You nodded. “I’m Riki. Riki Nishimura,” he said, holding out his hand. Unlike Jay, his hand was free from any jewelry. You stared at it, unsure of what his game was. He was the only freshman in the Karma Club, meaning that his hazing must have been particularly brutal. Even though he was young, in the same year as you, he was a Karma Club member just like the rest. 
Riki pulled his hand away and smiled at you wryly. “Jay was right about you. You really are cold.”
Jay talked about you? You didn’t think you existed to anyone outside of your direct interactions with them. How odd.
“Look,” Riki continued, zipping his sweater up as he spoke, “I just wanted to warn you.”
“About?”
Riki glanced around furtively, then stared at you. He craned his head towards you, so you leaned in as well. “He’s gotten worse recently,” Riki said in a low voice. “So they tell me, anyways. I’m a new punch, so I never got to see him ‘normal’.” He made quotation marks in the air when he said normal. “They say he was bad, but never this bad, and he won’t talk to anyone. Not even Heeseung, and they’ve been friends since they were kids.” Riki had developed eyebags, his hair was messy, and he played with his fingers as he spoke. 
“Why are you telling me this?”
Riki sighed, looking away from you. “I figure I owe it to you, I don’t know. For whatever reason, Jay hates you. No one can even understand why he dislikes you so much, but…he just keeps talking about you, saying weird shit, so I really think he might do something just…stupid, and dumb, and I don’t want that on my conscience. If he does do something… bad.”
He already has, but judging by Riki’s expression, you figured that he meant something much worse. “What should I do?”
Riki shrugged. “Don’t know. Watch out, I guess?”
“Thanks,” you said, shoveling in another bite of food. 
Riki watched you eat for a few seconds before he spoke again. “Don’t swing first.”
“What?”
“No matter what you do,” Riki said, getting out of his seat with surprising grace, “don’t buy into his bullshit. You never do anyways, and I think that that’s why he hates you so much. Everyone else indulges his dumbass ‘I’m so hard’ act…even we do, but you don’t.”
You took in his words carefully. “Thanks,” you said again, but you meant it that time.
“No problem,” Riki said. “One last thing.”
You took another bite of food and looked into his eyes. 
“If you want to come to Yeonjun’s party this Friday,” Riki said, leaning in once more (did all the Karma Club members have such little regard for personal space?), “the password is ‘fate’ to get in. It’s like an unofficial KC party. I’ll be there, so will Jake.”
Fate. What an interesting concept. “Party during a storm?”
“No school,” Riki said simply. “And, you know, it’ll be cool. I’m just gonna head there earlier with Sunghoon, but Jake is planning some stupid way to get there.”
“I’ll bet.”
Riki snorted. “You really should come. Maybe things will get interesting.”
“I hope not.”
He leaned away from you and fixed his hair. “I don’t think you’ll get a choice.”
After you did your homework, you took a nap and dreamt about the scarf. 
When you had been naive enough to linger outside, when Jay hadn’t yet made harassing you a daily habit, you had liked to knit outside. It was still September, and the weather was mild. You sat on the bleachers after your shift at the library and brought your yarn out with you. 
As you knitted, you heard footsteps behind you, crunching on the grass. Now, you could recognize those sure, solid footsteps from a mile away, but at the time you hadn’t. Generally, people didn’t approach you, so it hadn’t registered that someone was coming towards you.
“What’s that you’ve got there?” Jay hadn’t waited for an answer, plucking the scarf out of your hands just as you had finished another row.  The skein of yarn tumbled to the grass and rolled at his feet. “Is it for someone?”
You didn’t reply, your lips pursed into a thin line. “Right,” Jay had said, examining the scarf, “no one wants you, that’s right. No one wants a buzzkill that sits around, doing fuckall. Have you tried actually living? Experiencing things? Anything except wasting fucking oxygen?”
You had looked all over for that specific colour, and now he was sullying your scarf with his filthy touch. 
In real life, he had used your scissors and cut the scarf free from the yarn and walked away, laughing. But in your dream, the yarn tumbled away from you both. Winding itself around the trees, yarn strewn along the branches, choking the leaves.
You woke up covered in sweat to the sound of knocking on your door. Your bedside clock said that it was 11:00 pm. Some fucking nap.
You opened your door just a crack, trying to see what lunatic it could be. Jay stood in the hallway, grimacing at you. His eyes were ringed with dark circles, and his skin was beginning to take on a sickly pallor. The stark overhead lighting did him no favours, only highlighting his worsening appearance. 
 He grabbed you by your sweater’s sleeve and pulled you out so quickly you barely registered it. “Come along,” he said, dragging you down the hallway. “We’re going to take a little trip, you and me.”
Fighting him was futile, so you allowed yourself to be pulled away. As usual, everyone in Facwett was hanging out in someone else’s dorm, so no one saw you and Jay. He pushed the door open with one hand, the other holding onto your arm. 
Jay plunged the two of you into the rain. The deluge chilled you to the bone, and the sky was clotted with menacing nimbostratus clouds. Despite the darkness, you knew where he was taking you. It was a path you had trodden many times, the way to the Sad U library.
“Why didn’t you do anything?” Jay asked, his voice carrying over the steady rainfall. “When you saw me and Isa?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t fucking know. You could have asked questions? You could have had an actual reaction? Why’d you just stare like a freak?”
“Why’d you do it?” That was the closest you had ever come to defying him in any way, and it even surprised you. 
“Don’t fucking worry about why I did it,” he replied. Lightning flashed, and for a brief moment you could see Jay clearly. His eyebrow piercing glinted, and his eyes were completely black. “What are you looking at?” Without waiting for an answer, he continued tugging you along the grass. 
Jay hauled you up the stone steps and into the library. You didn’t know how he had gotten the doors open without a set of spare keys, until you remembered that he could have easily filched them from Isa. Maybe she gave them to him. Once you were inside, he let go of you. The two of you left large, wet puddles everywhere you stepped.  “Upstairs,” he barked, pointing at the glass staircase. “We’re going to the roof.”
Treading lightly, for your shoes were wet, you walked up all three floors. The entrance to the roof was located in a small supply closet on the leftmost side of the area. You obediently walked towards the closet, flicking the light on to find the hatch. With shaking hands, you pulled down the hatch, which unfurled the ladder leading up to the roof. “Ladies first,” Jay said, so you hiked your skirt up with one hand and climbed with the other. 
Once you got onto the roof,  you lingered by the entrance, underneath the small awning. Jay crawled up, shut the door, and jerked you into the open. You hadn’t noticed the intensity of the rain, so shocked you had been by Jay’s intrusion, but it was terrible. It beat at your face with the intensity of hail, and from just a few seconds you were already soaked. If you had brought your phone outside, it would have been destroyed, 
Jay’s hands were on you again, pulling you close to him. His eyes were wild- even in the darkness, they flashed with a primal ferocity. “We’re going to play a game,” he said, his voice loud and raggedy. The rain drowned out noise, so he leaned even closer to your ear.
“What’s the game?”
“The game,” he said, and his fingers dug into your arms, “is very simple. You give me reasons why I shouldn’t push your prude ass off the roof, and I’ll decide if they’re good enough.”
You pulled away from him to assess his expression, to see if he was joking. Nothing on his grim face suggested humour. “You’ll go to jail,” you said. 
“Jail? I can’t go to jail,” Jay said, his breath unbearably hot on your ear. “None of us can. So come on, give it a shot.”
Lily’s words rang in your head: “They straight up tried to murder a girl in the bathroom.” The library was three stories off of the ground. If he threw you off the roof, it was unlikely that you would die from the impact. It was more probable that you would be grievously injured. Paralyzed, brain damage, a slow death from your wounds, a slow death either way. Jay was the only person stopping you from reaching an infinite unknown. He held your life in his hands. 
You felt your lip tremble before you spoke. “No.”
“What?”
“No,” you said, raising your voice for the first time in ages. “I won’t beg you for anything.”
Your life flashed before your eyes in a dismal montage. Your childhood, lonely and miserable, high school a near mirror image. A life marred by solitude, harshness, and alienation, with the promise of more of the same to come. 
Jay snapped you out of your reverie with another hard shake. “What are you, fucking suicidal? You’re really ruining any potential enjoyment I could be getting out of this, you know.”
The only friends you had ever had, a group of girls in middle school, had teased you and mocked you behind your back, then to your face. Thrift shop clothes, a shy demeanor, and an inability to read the room had marked you as other long ago. An other, someone unlovable, someone born wrong, a bird with a supernumerary wing. Even if you ducked your head down, didn’t provoke anyone, the scent clung to you.
“Try. Come on. Convince me. Try!” Jay yelled now, his voice carrying over the torrent. 
Getting picked last, asked out as a joke, your only “date” having been cutting worms apart with a kid back in the second grade. You were a complete virgin. Hell, you had never even had your first kiss.
“Do something!”
Your sleeves hung from how much water they had soaked up, and your hands were slippery. You cupped Jay’s cheeks, leaned in, and kissed him gently on the lips. It was just a peck, but in your books it counted. Your hands fell away from his face, lingering at your sides.
When you pulled away, Jay was staring at you with the same unreadable expression he had had yesterday night. “I’ve never had my first kiss,” you explained, “So…” Feeling embarrassed, you looked towards the edge of the roof. From here, you could see the four separate dorms and the main campus buildings, as well as the bustling city that housed Sad U. You hadn’t explored it much, and now you never would. Tumble to the bottom, hope for death on impact. 
Jay’s voice was incredulous. “So you kissed me?”
Still averting your gaze, you shrugged. “You didn’t give me a wealth of options.”
Silence hung between the two of you like a noose. The rain poured ceaselessly, completely penetrating your clothes.
“Look at me,” Jay whispered, but you were still gazing at the city below. Cars glittered on the streets, even this late at night. Where were they going? 
“I said look at me,” he said, and his hand grabbed your chin and jerked it towards his face. “And don’t look away.”
You stared into his dark eyes; you were so close now that you could smell his breath. It smelled like bourbon and cigarettes. 
“I hate you,” he said, his thumb and index finger still holding your chin in place. “It’s beyond hatred sometimes.”
“I know,” you said.
“I think you’re pathetic. I think you’re weak.”
“I know.”
“So stop making it hard for me,” Jay said, his breathing growing uneven and erratic. 
“Making what hard for you?”
“Oh, don’t fucking play dumb,” he snapped. “You’re always doing it. You’re doing it right now.”
“I don’t do anything,” you said.
“That’s your problem,” Jay said, “you never do anything. You’re always so fucking calm, and passive, and it pisses me off. You just can’t let anything get to you, right? Nothing ever matters to you. Nothing can ever hurt you, right?” He swallowed audibly.
Your eyes drifted to the entrance to the roof. Thankfully, Jay had closed it after he had followed you up. You would have hated it if water had gotten inside.
“I said, look at me,” Jay growled, so you did.
Then he jerked your chin upwards and kissed you harshly. His arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly against him, your chest flush against his own. Two wet bodies pressed together.
You didn’t know what to do, or how to kiss back. You tried to mimic his actions, but it was impossible to keep up with him. Jay kissed you like he was punishing you for daring to touch him. Jay’s tongue worked its way into your mouth and swirled around your own tongue, dragged itself along your teeth, shoved itself down your throat. His hands gripped you as if he thought you would tumble off of the roof on your own accord if he didn’t hold onto you. One clutched your upper back, the other hand wound its way to your waist.
Jay pulled away briefly, sucking in rapid breaths, before pressing his lips firmly against yours again. He forced you down to the ground, so that you both sank to the floor of the roof. Rain had slipped into your mouths as you had caught your breath. Saliva and rainwater dribbled out of your mouths, onto your chins. You were on your knees, being consumed by Jay. One of his hands pressed against the back of your head, holding you in place. 
Thunder crashed, but Jay was relentless. You wondered if he kissed everyone like this. You wondered if he kissed Isa like this. 
Once more, he broke the kiss, panting heavily. His arms slid away from your body, leaving you with a phantom weight. Jay shakily stood up, rainwater dripping off of him as though he were one of storm clouds hovering above you. “Congratulations,” he said, “I don’t feel like killing you today.”
He left you there, looking back at him, soaked in the torrential downpour. When you touched your lips, you found that they were already starting to swell.
On Friday, classes were canceled because of the weather. It was for the best. You stared at the ceiling listlessly, your hands folded over your stomach. You hadn’t remembered going to the communal showers, or getting dressed in a nightgown, but you had done it. Your throat was sore and you were sneezing on and off. 
The sound of an incoming text broke the silence, and you reached over to your nightstand to read it. It was Isa, asking you to come over to her dorm room. You weren’t in the mood, so you texted her that you were sick. It wasn’t a lie either; pressure was building behind your skull, and you just wanted to sleep. 
Unfortunately, no one at Sad U knew how to take a hint. Ten minutes later, you heard timid rapping at your door. You groaned, shuffled to your feet, and opened the door. 
Isa was standing outside, wearing a worn Judas Priest t-shirt with purple and pink bear pajama pants. Her face was free from makeup, and her fiery hair was tugged into a loose bun. “You look bad,” she said, then winced. “Sorry.”
“I’m sick.”
“I thought you were lying just to get rid of me,” she said sheepishly. “I’ll come back some other time.”
You shook your head and beckoned her inside. All of a sudden, you didn’t want to be alone right now.  You figured you might as well get this over with now, anyways. You sat down on your bed and patted the space next to you.
Isa sat down and looked around your room, trying to find something to compliment. “It’s very…cozy in here. It’s very you,” she said finally, turning to face you.
“Thank you,” you said, stretching out your neck. “What’s up?”
Isa sighed and tugged at the hem of Jay’s shirt. “It’s Jay,” she said finally. Of course. It was always Jay. “No one’s seen him since last night.”
“Maybe he’s on campus somewhere, like Ri-,”
“No, no one has seen him.” Isa screwed her face up in frustration. “He just disappeared.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” Isa said bitterly. “Oh. So, I was wondering…if you had, I dunno, seen him? I know that you guys…know each other, so I was wondering if maybe he had said something.”
“No,” you said immediately. “No, he didn’t.” What could you say? Yeah, your pseudo-boyfriend threatened to kill me, we made out on the rooftop, and then he disappeared?
“Oh, okay,” Isa said, her voice faltering. She sniffled, but before you could make a feeble attempt at comforting her, she smiled. “Gosh. It’s such an ugly day, and all my friends are over at Stoker right now with their boyfriends. I’d go over there, but the rain is so bad…”
It was clear that Isa wanted someone to hang around, so maybe you could help each other. Just once. “I saved some movies on my laptop before the storm, if you wanted to, you know…”
Isa wiped her eyes. “What? You want to watch a movie with me?”
What were you doing? “If you want.”
 “Yeah. Yeah, sure, what movies?”
“Uh, Oldboy and Lady Vengeance…”
Isa brightened and clapped her hands. “Oh, no way. I loved Lady Vengeance. I haven’t seen Oldboy, though.”
You smiled slowly. “I haven’t seen either of them. Which should we watch first?”
“Oldboy came out first, I think,” Isa said, taking her hair out of her bun and fluffing it out. “So we should watch that…then Lady Vengeance.”
Watching a movie with someone had seemed tedious to you, an unneeded distraction. Why would you want to hear someone else talk while you were trying to focus? But for some reason, Isa pointing at your small laptop screen, making idle comments, and at one point going on a snack run and coming back with a small bounty of treats was actually enjoyable. The storm wailed outside, pounding at your window.
At one point, halfway through Lady Vengeance, Isa put her head on your shoulder. Awkwardly, you patted her smooth hair and she nuzzled into you. 
So this was what it was like to have a friend. 
“Hey,” you said quietly, “are you going to the party at Yeonjun’s?”
Isa nodded, her cheek rubbing against your shoulder. “I think I might, yeah. Yeah, my friends have been trying to get invited, but it’s pretty hard. And apparently there’s like a list of invitees, so you can’t just…go. Jay was supposed to take me, but…” her voice trailed off.
“I got invited. Formally,” you said, “so maybe we could go together?”
Isa lifted her cheek off of your shoulder so she could look at you directly, a smile slowly spreading across her pretty face. “Really?” 
“Yeah, and…” you swallowed thickly. “You could maybe…help me get ready?”
The sheer ferocity of the squeal that Isa had emitted could have powered the school in case the bad weather wrecked the back-up generators. “I’ll call Jake so he can pick us up,” Isa said, pulling her phone out. “He’s staying behind, so we can meet him in a few hours…”
“He’ll drive us?”
Isa looked at you slyly. “Not quite.”
“It’s perfectly safe,” Jake reassured you. He was behind the wheel of a golf cart, his teeth gleaming in the dark. had parked outside of Fawcett, positioned under a large tree to evade the worst of the rain. 
“Won’t the rain wreck the cart?” you asked. At Isa’s behest, you were wearing a plastic poncho that covered you from head to toe, speaking through a small mouth flap. She had bought them in anticipation for the awful weather, and she would not have you wreck the makeup she had meticulously painted on your face. The dress you were wearing was one she had chosen from your closet. She had wanted to do raw hem the dress to make it look “grunge”, but Jake had pounded on your door, yelling for you guys to get out. So she had hurried you out, and you hadn’t even had the chance to grab your phone. Strange how eager she was to please him, even though they seemed to be on equal footing. 
Jake waved away your concerns. “It’ll make it to Yeonjun’s. Probably.” He could scarcely be heard amidst the thunder crashing in the distance. 
“How come you didn’t leave earlier? I heard the others went to Yeonjun’s a few hours earlier,” Isa said, adjusting her own poncho.
Jake hesitated, then whispered, “I thought Jay would come back. Wanted to be at Stoker in case he showed.”
Isa’s face crumpled for a few seconds, before she took a deep breath and steeled herself. “Come on,” she yelled, grabbing your hand and leading you into the golf cart. “Aw, man, my ass is wet.”
“That’s a hurricane party for you,” Jake said. With a whoop, he started the golf cart and sped away from Fawcett.
The main entrance to Sad U was closed off by a large, ostentatious black gate, but there were other ways to get off campus. Namely, there was a winding path that led from the warehouse into the woods surrounding the university that led outside. Jake maneuvered the golf cart through the powerful winds, hollering as he did so. 
“You drive like shit,” Isa screamed, clinging to you. 
“You try driving a golf cart through a hurricane,” Jake yelled, entering the forest. There was a brief reprieve from the winds, but branches, twigs, and pebbles still whipped around your head. You had to dodge constantly to avoid a barrage of debris. 
Somehow, Jake had wheeled the golf cart onto a side road. “Do you know where you’re going?” Isa asked warily.
“Yeah,” Jake said, “obviously. I’ve been to Yeonjun’s a bunch of times.”
“Are you sure?” The golf cart squeaked miserably as it rumbled down the concrete. 
“Yes, I’m sure! Get off my ass!”
“We’re in a golf cart in a Category 5 hurricane, someone needs to be on your ass.”
“This isn’t even a Category 2 hurricane. This is nothing. You know what we get in Australia? We get willy-willies. You wouldn’t know shit about that, would you?”
You started laughing. You couldn’t remember the last time you had done so, but it felt amazing. Clutching your stomach, you rested your head on Isa’s shoulder. Isa looked at you, then glanced at Jake, and they joined in too. A merry band of lunatics, cackling in the middle of a storm.
“We’re so fucked, Wednesday Addams is laughing,” Jake said, letting out a wheezing laugh. 
“It’s a good omen,” Isa suggested, “like a black cat walking under ladders.”
“13 mirrors in a funhouse breaking,” you said, unable to stop giggling. Maybe you were delirious. 
Jake snickered and continued driving. The storm hadn’t let up, but he managed to navigate the golf cart onto the sidewalk of a residential area - quite the upscale neighborhood at that. The houses looked more like dorm buildings with how large and decadent they were. 
“I thought it’d be a gated community,” Isa said, still holding onto you. 
“Yeonjun’s going through this weird Twitter socialist phase,” Jake said, “so he’s like, ‘gated communities are for the bourgeoise’, but he owns a shit ton of Rick.”
You glanced at Isa. “Rick?”
“Rick Owens,” she explained.
Just then, you heard a distinct gurgling noise coming from the back of the golf cart. “You guys hear that?” 
“I can’t hear anything in this weather,” Isa said, and as the words left her mouth the golf cart made a loud hissing noise. 
“Get out!” Jake yelled. “The battery is waterlogged!” Isa helped to pull you out of the cart, and the three of you watched the golf cart smoke before the rain snuffed any remaining heat. 
“Jake,” Isa began, her words punctuated by a thunder-clap, “why would you even take a golf cart to Yeonjun’s in the middle of a storm?”
Jake spread his arms angrily, but all he could offer was a meager, “The vibes?”
“The vibes,” she said, exasperated. “The vibes.” 
“How far is Yeonjun’s?” you asked, still wired from the strange euphoria you had felt earlier.
Jake shrugged, running his hands through his wet locks. “Like…five minutes away?”
“We should run,” you suggested. “What else can we do?” 
Jake opened his mouth, but with another loud thunderclap, he turned on his heel and started sprinting. Expletives spilled out of his mouth as quickly as he moved. Isa took your hand and you ran in a madcap sprint to Yeonjun’s house. It was almost surreal; every minute, there was a bright flash of lightning, and you could see everything in complete clarity. 
Your lower half was completely wet, you were holding hands with the “girlfriend” of the guy who had tormented you for months, and you were running towards a party with some of the most obnoxious people at your university, including his best friend. 
“Fate,” you murmured.
“What?” Isa yelled, pulling her poncho tightly around herself. 
“Fate,” you said, a little louder.
“Yeah, that’s the password,” Jake said, running a little ahead of you and Isa. “Who told you?”
“Riki.”
Isa let out a slight laugh. “You know Riki, too? You don’t tell me anything.”
You laughed, too. A few minutes later, you were in front of Yeonjun’s sprawling mansion. From what you could tell, it was around three stories. Lights shone from all of the windows besides the ones on the highest floor.  No cars in the driveway, but the ten car garage probably fit all of them neatly. The wind could batter this fortress all it wanted, but the brick and stucco building would probably hold up in a flood. You didn’t want to know how someone who had graduated university not two years prior had been able to afford such a nice place. He was an ex-Karma Club member- the president, in fact - so Lord knows what he was capable of. 
You could hear loud trap music with rapid 808s playing from inside, accompanied by frenzied screams. The yard, which was currently being pummeled by a torrent of water, was understandably empty as well. Jake walked up to the door and rapped three quick knocks using the brass knocker. Someone opened it, a young man with a cat-like smile. He looked at Jake, then at you and Isa.
“Password?” 
Jake groaned. “Jungwon, you little shit. Don’t be annoying.”
“That’s crazy,” Jungwon said, shoving his hands into the front pocket of his bright orange hoodie. “None of those words sounded like the password.”
Jake groaned again, leaned in, and whispered the password into Jungwon’s ear. 
“Enter,” Jungwon said, gesturing Jake inside with a flourish. Jake gave Jungwon the finger and walked inside, calling, “I’ll be in the living room” behind his shoulder. 
Isa walked up next. She gave Jungwon a little kiss on the cheek and said the password. She turned towards you and pointed at the right, presumably at the living room. Then she disappeared inside as well, already taking off her poncho. 
Jungwon looked at you expectantly, so you walked down the stone path, up the steps, and stood in the doorway. “Fate,” you said. 
Jungwon nodded at you, jutting his bottom lip out slightly. “Nice to finally meet you,” he said appreciatively. “We’ve heard so much about you.”
“Anything good?”
You both stared at each other blankly. “You’d better get inside,” Jungwon said, gesturing you in. “In, in. It’s raining cats and dogs and Jakes. Get it? Because he’s an animal.”
“Shut the fuck up,” you heard Jake call from up the stairs and Jungwon wandered over to him, still laughing. Your eyes adjusted to the sudden light.
The scene was something out of a music video. To your right was a winding, wooden staircase with ornate iron balusters. Clusters of people crowded on it, passing around a tired joint or just talking. To your left, you could see a small room that had been stripped of its furniture so people could have space to dance. Directly beside it was a small bar, replete with various bottles of alcohol along with a small cooler that rested on the counter. Riki was standing near the bar, and when he caught your eyes he stalked over to you.
Riki grinned at you as you peeled off your sopping wet poncho and jacket, resting them on a nearby coat hook. “You came,” he said quietly. 
“I did,” you said.
He walked back to the bar, and after a moment’s hesitation you followed him. “Do you drink?” he asked, pawing through the open cooler. 
“Not often,” you said, leaning against the counter, careful to avoid touching an odd puddle of liquid. 
“Didn’t think so,” Riki said. He pulled a blue Calypso lemonade out of the cooler and cracked it open, handing it to you. You received it reluctantly, swirling the liquid around. “Don’t worry, I didn’t spike it. That’s more of a Sunoo thing.”
You took a small, tentative sip. “Is it?
“Nothing serious,” Riki said, gulping his own Monster and wiping his mouth. “Just know that if you ever see a group of people mysteriously getting the shits at once, it’s Sunoo.”
“Is he here?”
“Yeah. Why do you think they have me watching the drinks? When he gets bored at a party he gets antsy.”
“Hm.” You continued drinking and surveyed the area. It was almost claustrophobic, seeing so many people dancing and writhing around. Thanks to Isa, you didn’t stand out, although you wondered if anyone would have even cared. 
Riki nudged your arm with his elbow lightly. “First party?” 
You nodded, clutching your small glass bottle like a lifeline. “A lot of people.”
Riki snorted. “Nah, wait till you see upstairs.”
“Upstairs?”
“Yeah,” Riki said, jerking his thumb towards the steps. “That’s where the living room is.”
You gaped at him, glancing at the large, open space beside you two. “That isn’t the living room?”
A laugh escaped Riki’s lips and he nudged you again. “This is so fun. Come on.” Riki abandoned his post at the bar and jostled you. You got to your feet and looked at him warily. As he pushed you up the stairs, helping you wind past the dazed partygoers sitting on the steps, he said, “You’re wet.”
“Jake drove us here in a golf cart.”
Riki laughed loudly, his voice echoing over the music coming from upstairs. “He was serious about that? What the fuck? We could have driven you guys in Yeonjun’s all-terrain truck.”
You got to the top of the steps and pulled at your wet dress. “He said he did it for the-,”
“Vibes,” Riki finished, swallowing the last of his Monster. He crushed the can and tossed it on the floor, where it clattered unceremoniously. “He’s an idiot sometimes.”
“So I’m learning,” you said. 
The red LED lights blaring from the expansive living room on the far left painted Riki’s face with a devilish glow. He put his arm around your shoulder and laughed again. “We should be friends. You’re funny.”
“You’d be my first one,” you said, walking towards the party with some apprehension.
“Your first? What about Jay?” Riki asked innocently. “I thought you guys were best friends.” You glared at him and he snickered. 
“Come on, let’s dance.”
“Wait,” you said, tugging on his sleeve. 
“What?”
You looked at the throng of people dancing freely. You could see Isa’s flowing mass of red hair in the middle of the room, and Jungwon’s bright orange hoodie led you to Jake doing some trendy little dance. You could see the other members of the Karma Club interspersed throughout the room - Sunghoon and Sunoo were in a corner, half-dancing and half gossiping. You didn’t see Heeseung, or anyone who matched his description. Everyone there, regardless of what they were doing, looked like they were having fun.  They were shouting the lyrics to a song you didn’t know. 
“I can’t dance,” you said finally.
Riki stared at you. “You think any of them can dance? Look at Jake.”
“Well, I-,”
Riki put both of his hands on your shoulders and looked you in the eyes. “You need to stop thinking.”
“Stop thinking?”
“Yes. Stop thinking. Just do what feels right.”
“I won’t know any songs.”
“Doesn’t matter. Every song has a beat, you just follow it.”
“But …”
“I’m about done with this conversation,” Riki said, and he pulled you inside of the living room. Someone with lanky hair was manning a turntable, holding up his red solo cup as he fiddled with dials. Bodies were pressed together, and the room smelled like sweat and weed and perfume.
Riki started to move to the beat, so you decided to follow him, still holding your Calypso. He looked at you and laughed. “Just like that,” he said. The two of you danced at the edge of the party together, and it was comforting realizing that no one was paying attention. You closed your eyes and tried to feel the beat; the music was so loud that the floors seemed to reverberate. 
You heard someone call your name, and when you opened your eyes you saw Isa running towards you. Her smile was lopsided and she was laughing a little too hard. “I’m about to start rolling,” she said giddily. “Took like 150 mg. Come dance!”
Isa suddenly possessed the strength of an ox, because she was able to yank you into the center of the room. 
Jake yelled your name and hit a dance move you didn’t recognize. You copied him, the same way you did Riki. “Aye,” Jake said approvingly, “Wednesday’s got moves.”
“I taught her everything she knows,” Riki said. He embraced Jake in a half-hug and Jake ruffled his hair.
“I’m gonna teach her how to twerk,” Isa said, tugging your arm. “Come here…” 
You tried to pry her hand off of you. “No, no, no…”
“Teach me, Isa,” Jake said playfully, and he dropped into a squat and rattled his bones. Isa made a retching noise and looked away. 
An unfamiliar voice gasped, and you whirled your head to see who it was.“Oh, God. Who got Jake popping his pussy?” It was a girl wearing a black beanie with a cross on it, a thin tank top, and baggy camo pants. 
Isa smiled. “Gigi!”
“Gigi” and Isa kissed each other on the cheeks. “Girl,” Gigi said, rolling her eyes, “someone gave my man an edible and said that it was only 10 mg. Tell me why he’s in the bathroom right now talking about ‘they’re after me’?”
Riki’s eyes lit up. “Heeseung is vulnerable?”
“Don’t scare him too bad,” Gigi said, but Riki was already speeding away. She sighed and bit the inside of her cheek. “That boy is evil, Isa.”
“You say that like every Karma Club member isn’t insane,” Isa said, pulling her hair out of her face and whipping it backwards.
Jake finally got up and frowned, standing beside Isa. You lingered on her other side; Gigi’s sudden appearance had made you feel a bit nervous. “I’m not that bad,” Jake said with a slight pout. 
“Please.” Gigi scoffed and adjusted her beanie. “That Mina shit was pretty bad.”
For the first time since you had known him, Jake’s face was completely serious. The air had become fraught with tension, and you realized that the three of them had completely stopped dancing. 
“Oops,” she said, holding her hand up to her lips. “Did I say something?”
Isa was chewing on her bottom lip, and Jake was staring at Gigi the same way that Jay looked at other people. Like he could kill them.
“Let’s not talk about that,” Jake mumbled, looking away from Gigi. He glanced at you, then back at the ground. 
Gigi followed his gaze to you, and she gave you a clinical, detached once-over. “Who’s this?”
“This is our Wednesday,” Isa said, rubbing your shoulder. She told Gigi your name, and a hint of recognition flickered on her face. 
“Oh, that’s you,” Gigi said, nodding slowly. “I’m Giselle. Heeseung’s brought you up.”
What was there even to talk about? “Oh.”
“Based on what Heeseung said, I didn’t think you’d show up to one of these,” Gigi said coolly. 
“Jake said he’d buy me smoothies for a week if I came,” you replied drily. 
“No, I didn’t,” Jake protested, but his wide, puppy-like smile returned. “Quit lying on me.”
“No, you definitely did,” Isa said, lightly pushing him. “I heard you say it. You said you’d get me a wrap from Stoker’s caf, too.”
“Fine, fine,” Jake said, holding his hands up. “Smoothies for a week for Wednesday and a wrap for her friend Ariel.”
The song switched, some rap song you didn’t know, but Giselle shrieked, clutching Isa. “Girl, this is my song,” she screamed. “Just got some top from a stripper bitch, she from Kankakee…”
Giselle and Isa started dancing, with Giselle gesturing at Isa passionately. You looked at Jake, who moved his arms in a ridiculous, exaggerated way. You smiled and followed his movements, to his amusement. 
“You been getting close to Riki?” he asked, tousling his hair. 
“I guess,” you replied, trying to mimic a dance you had seen in a music video. “I’ve only known him for two days, though.”
Jake nodded. “He seems like he likes you.”
“He’s nice.”
“Yeah, he’s a good kid,” Jake said, and you became aware of how close he had gotten to you. When had that happened?
“You say kid like Riki and I aren’t the same age.”
Jake stopped moving momentarily, and a shy smile spread across his face. You felt a blush creep over your cheeks, and you were thankful for the cover of darkness. “Well, you don’t seem like you’re the same age as Riki,” he said softly. “You seem a lot more…mature?”
“I don’t feel mature,” you admit and you wonder why you even said it. 
“You are,” Jake said, and you saw his hand reaching out towards you, towards your face. Before he could touch you, you felt someone push you. 
“Why aren’t you dancing?” Riki said, giggling. “You guys look like losers.” He patted your back and went over to Jake, shaking him. Jake playfully wrestled Riki, and as you looked on you swayed your hips ever-so-slightly. Now that you were a little more comfortable, you were starting to have fun.
“Okay, get it,” Gigi said. You turned and she was giving you a strange smile. Isa stretched her hand towards you, and without a moment of delay, you took it. 
Even though you didn’t know the words, even though you didn’t know anyone, you still danced.  Jake was on your right, Isa was on your left, and the six of you were in a group, letting loose. Isa let her head hang back and excitedly moved her body to the beat. Riki was a surprisingly good dancer, freestyling along with every song that came on. Jake wasn’t far behind him, either. Last week, you couldn’t have imagined yourself doing this, not with these people. 
“Let’s go,” Jake yelled before a beat drop, and Riki pushed your head down so you would headbang. You smacked his arm, a gesture you had witnessed girls do to guys. It felt good to do something normal like that, to express your familiarity with someone.
You didn’t know how long you had spent in the living room, but eventually you grew tired. You tapped Jake on the shoulder. “Where’s the bathroom?”
“Shit,” Jake said apologetically. “They’re probably all occupied right now. You really need to go?”
You shook your head. “Just need to rest for a little. I’m tired.”
“Sure,” he said. “You wanna go to a bedroom?”
Resting on a soft, plush bed and nuzzling into goose-down pillows sounded like a great plan to you. You nodded your assent. As you left, Isa got a hold of your jacket’s sleeve. “You okay?”
“Not used to this many people,” you explained, and you could have sworn you heard Giselle scoff. Whatever.  Isa nodded sympathetically and gave you a long hug. You tapped her back awkwardly before pulling away. “Have fun,” you said softly. 
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Isa said, playfully hitting your arm before turning back around.
Jake winded his way out of the crowd with you in tow. He took you up another flight of spiral stairs, then down a hallway decorated with tasteful, if not somewhat generic, artwork. He knocked on a door at the end of the hall, and when he didn’t hear anything, he opened the door. Jake flicked the light on, surveying the room. It was a simple, spacious bedroom; the bed had a red and gold quilt, the floor was dark hardwood, and the curtains were drawn shut. “This place is so big,” Jake said admiringly. “If the apocalypse were to happen, I’d come here and just hide out.”
“You’d get looted,” you said, entering the bedroom. You took your shoes off at the door and walked over to the bed. Putting your calypso down on the nightstand, you laid down on top of the sheets. “Yeonjun won’t mind if I sleep in one of his beds?”
Jake scoffed and sat down on the edge of the bed, beside you. “Sleeping is probably the tamest thing people are going to do in his bedrooms,” Jake said, looking down at you. “You’re fine.”
“Oh.” With that, you crawled under the covers, which were deliciously soft. The pillows were cold and crisp, and you breathed out a contented sigh. 
“You must be tired,” Jake said. “First college party, right?”
“First party,” you replied, suddenly feeling embarrassment over your lackluster social life. 
Jake shook his head in disbelief. “You’re so chill, I don’t get why you weren’t popular in high school.”
“Ask Jay,” you deadpanned. “He could give you a few reasons.”
“Jay’s a fucking…” Jake seemed to catch himself, and he looked at the ceiling before staring back down at you. “I love him, but I don’t understand him. I don’t know why he treats you like that.” 
Why do you let him treat me like that? The words clogged in your throat. You were being unfair. Jake had been telling Jay to stop recently, had been trying to help you. It wasn’t like he could stop Jay, anyways. Jay always did what he wanted. 
You must have looked strange, because Jake bit his lip in worry. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I caught a little cold yesterday,” you said. Jake touched the back of his hand to your forehead, and you were surprised by how chilly his touch was. 
“How’d you manage that?” Jake said in a low murmur. He moved his hand to your neck, just under your chin. 
“Went outside.”
“And why did you go outside?”
You gave him a small smile. “The vibes.”
Jake chuckled. “You can be so funny,” he said. “You can be so…”
You never got to hear what else Jake thought you were, because he had leaned down and planted his plush lips onto yours, kissing you softly. A dulcet sweet kiss, as gentle as dandelion fluff. When he pulled away, his eyes lingered on your lips. “Sorry,” Jake said quietly, moving his hand from your neck. 
You didn’t say anything, and you felt as though you had reverted back to the you from Monday. 
“Sorry,” Jake said again, “I don’t know why I did that.” He hesitated, then whispered, “Do you want me to go?” 
You bobbed your head up and down, almost imperceptibly. Jake drew a sharp intake of breath, nodded, then stood up. “I hope you feel better,” he muttered before leaving the bedroom. 
You didn’t. You couldn’t even fall asleep. You laid there, listening to the sounds of the rain and the bass kicks coming from the living room. Your eyes were closed, but your mind was racing. 
Bringing your fingers to your lips, you traced the soft skin. Jake had kissed you like you were something fragile, something that needed special care. He was attractive, friendly, and treated you far better than any other man in your life ever had. 
So why were you thinking about Jay? 
It was only a seven minute drive to Yeonjun’s from Sad U, which would be a nearly two hour long walk. Even if the weather cleared up, it would be an arduous trek, and without your phone, you would probably get lost. 
There was no point in trying to rest, but you didn’t want to see Jake right now. You didn’t want to confront his feelings, your feelings, or your lack thereof. Maybe you should go downstairs, see if you could scrounge up some alcohol. Drink yourself into a stupor and black out. 
So you got out of bed, shoved your shoes on, and headed out the door. As you walked down the hallway, you bumped into Riki, who was carrying a bottle of something with two red solo cups. “Jake wants to drink all of a sudden,” he explained. “But he’s too much of a fair maiden to get it himself. Annoying. It’s a crime for me to even be touching this shit.”
“I want to leave,” you blurted out. 
Riki stared at you. “What happened?”
“Nothing. I don’t know.” 
Shifting the items in his hands, he sighed and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He checked the time, then looked at you gravely. “Weather’s supposed to clear up in 3 hours,” Riki said finally. “I can take someone’s car.”
“They wouldn’t mind?”
“If they minded, then they shouldn’t have put me on key duty,” Riki said, shaking his flannel’s pocket. You heard the sound of keys jangling together.
“You really are evil,” you said approvingly. 
“How do you think I got into the club?” Riki smiled, then sighed. “I’m gonna go take care of Jake. You gonna come dance again?”
“Don’t think so.” 
“All right,” Riki said. “Which room are you in?”
“Up the stairs…down the hall, the leftmost room.”
“I’ll meet you there in a few hours, then,” Riki said, and he prepared to leave.
“Wait.” When Riki turned to face you, crading the bottle of alcohol under his arms, you swallowed.
“Why are you so nice to me?”
Riki snorted. “Don’t say depressing, orphan ass shit like that. You piss Jay off, you don’t suck his dick, you don’t get into dumbass slapfights, and you’re funny. That’s all I need.”
“I thought Karma Club members would sort of…hate the same people.”
“Yeah, a lot of people make assumptions about us,” Riki said, irritation clear on his face. “They don’t know shit.” When you remain quiet, he heads over to the living room.
Three hours pass by, trickling like molasses. You go in and out of sleep, dreams intermingling with daydreams. You think about the scarf, about Jay, the smoothies Jake promised you, about your classes, about how five days could culminate into something like this. Lying in a stranger’s bed. You think about how, if Jay hadn’t fiercely kissed you on the rooftop, Jake would have been your first kiss. But if Jay hadn’t kissed you, would you have accepted Isa’s invitation to hang out? Would you have come to this party?
Riki knocked on your door. “It’s open,” you said, and he stepped inside.
“Jake’s acting stupid,” Riki said, gesturing for you to get up. “Fighting with Gigi because she brought up the Mina thing.” 
You shuffled over to his side, and together you descended the winding staircase. 
“I take it you don’t know what the Mina thing is?” Riki asked. 
You shook your head. 
“Jake would probably hate it if I told you,” Riki began, holding the door open for you, “so I’ll tell you.
You slipped through the door; the wind was weaker, and the rain came in a light shower instead of the downpour through which you had traversed. “What’s with you?”
Riki laughed, striding over to the massive garage. He pressed a button and it folded itself into the wall. “I like starting shit.”
“Fair.”
The two of you got into someone’s car, with heated leather seats and fuzzy dice in the mirror. “So, the Mina thing was pretty straightforward,” he began, pulling out of the driveway. “From what I understand, Jake hooked up with a girl when she was drunk. Really drunk. She said it was assault, he said that it was consensual.” 
You were surprised by the blase nature with which he relayed this information, but you figured being in the Karma Club took a lot of grit. 
“She tried to take him to court, but Jake…well, he’s rich. Really rich. She never got a rape kit, apparently didn’t know they existed, so she had no evidence. The only thing was…” Riki squinted at the road. “Fuck, I missed a turn…doesn’t matter. Anyways, the only thing was that her back was fucked up.”
“Fucked up?”
“Scratches, bruises and shit. Jake said that she liked it rough, and I never got to see it myself, but one of her old friends did. She didn’t believe that Jake raped her, but it looked ugly. Anyways, then she got known as the girl that cried rape. Everyone sort of just ran with it. Then she tried to kill herself.”
Riki said it so casually, you nearly didn’t register that he had said it. “Pardon me?”
“She tried to overdose on something, I don’t know what. It didn’t work, she got her stomach pumped. And then she left the school. It was the middle of last semester, so I have no clue how she completed her exams. Probably didn’t. No one knows where she is now. No one knew about the attempt, except for the KC members at the time.”
“How is that possible?”
“Well,” Riki said, turning onto Decelis Street, where Sadame University was located. “She had lost all of her friends, so it’s not like they would have cared. Sorry if that sounds like a dick thing to say, but it’s true. And the people who did find her, well…they weren’t going to tell anyone.”
“Why? Who found her?”
Riki was silent as he pulled up in front of the tall, imposing gate. “You can get in, right? There’s a few entrances that lead inside, or you could climb over.”
“Yeah,” you said, unbuckling your seatbelt. “I should be fine.”
“Good.”
“Thanks for driving me.”
“It was Jay,” he said quietly. “Jay found her. She was from Fawcett, and he found her in the girls’ bathroom.”
Staggering through the halls of Fawcett, which were eerily quiet (quite a few students had gone home for the weekend, anticipating the storm. The rest were probably in Stoker, enjoying the proximity to the KC without stirring their ire. 
It was too much to think about, too much to figure out. Jake had either committed a crime, or he was being unfairly framed. Either way, the girl had tried to kill herself, and Jay had found her. Why would he be in the Fawcett bathroom? None of it made sense, and you were so worn out, you could hardly bring yourself to think about it.
You jammed your key into the lock, but you realized that the door was already open. That’s right. Isa had rushed you outside, so you hadn’t had the chance to lock your door. When you cracked the door ajar, you saw someone lying on your bed, reading one of your books. 
Jay.
This was the longest Friday night of your life. 
The door made a creaking noise as you pushed it all the way open, and he turned to you and smiled. It was a Duchenne smile, devoid of any joy. His hair, which was normally styled, fell limply into his eyes.  He set the book down on your nightstand, got to his feet, and pulled you inside lightly. As he let you go, he closed the door and locked it with an unpropitious click. 
“Where were you?” Jay asked, leaning against the door. He crossed his arms over his loose black button-up and tilted his head.
“Yeonjun’s,” you said.  You still felt weak from the last 6 hours, so you rested your hand on your nightstand for support as you stood in front of him. 
“Oh, Yeonjun’s,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “How was it? Fun?”
The benign nature of his questioning only made you feel more perturbed. “It was okay,” you said. “Loud. Not as many people as I thought.”
“You know how it is,” Jay continued. “KC parties are always exclusive.” His voice didn’t have its usual arrogant, loud tone, the one that commanded attention. Now he spoke in a slow, borderline sensual drawl.
“Why didn’t you go?”
Jay shrugged and kicked himself off of the door, standing upright. He shoved his hands into his pockets. “You may not know this because you don’t have any friends, but hanging around the same people for so long gets boring. I got sick of it, all their bullshit. Besides, KC parties are all the same. You go there, you listen to the shittiest house music, you smoke cat piss because it’s Heeseung’s favourite, you grind on some sluts, you fuck one or two of them, you have to kick their drunk asses out, you go home, then you fight the urge to kill yourself, pen in your jugular.”
“Sounds like a great time.”
Jay laughed humourlessly. “I didn’t know you could make jokes. You’re just full of surprises. Going to parties - KC parties, no less! - wearing makeup…you fuck anyone?”
Your eyes widened. “What?”
“Did you fuck anyone? Seems like you were looking to get fucked tonight.” Jay took a small step towards you.
“No,” you said, thinking about the kiss. Both of them.
“Really?” Jay stepped even closer. “Not even Jake? He has a weird thing for you, you know. Probably thinks he can dick the mute out of you. I’m surprised he didn’t try anything. But then, he’s always been kind of a pussy, though.”
You stayed silent, backing up. He wasn’t wearing his usual cologne today, so his natural scent wafted into your nose. It was woodsy and a little spicy. 
“Back to the silent treatment? You’re killing me.”
Your hand brushed against the book he had been reading. “Why are you here, Jay?” 
“I missed you,” Jay said sarcastically. “I just had to come see you. Why, you didn’t want to see me? Are you scared of me now?”
You shook your head, stepping back again. Your calves hit the cool wrought iron frame of your bed, and you realize that there’s nowhere left to go. 
Jay advanced upon you, until he was hovering over you like a specter. “Of course you aren’t. Nothing I can do can frighten you, right?”
“No.”
Anger contorted his features into a vicious snarl, and he pushed you onto the bed. Yourlegs hit the edge of the bed, and you winced from the impact. Furious hands groped all over the front of your body, as if he were attempting to touch every part of you at once. Jay’s lips pressed onto yours, his teeth clashing against yours. This kiss lacked the desperation and  hopelessness of last time. Now, his kisses were vicious attacks, wet and hot. His hips rutted against your crotch, like he was trying to fuck you through the layers of clothing.
Jay pulled away, gasping. His lips were covered in his own slick saliva. “Why aren’t you fighting back? Why do you let me do whatever I want to you?”
He’s pinned your arms against your sides, so all you can do is look into his eyes. Your voice came out more strongly than you had intended. “You’ll do it if I fight back or not. You always do whatever you want. I’m not strong enough to stop you, so why bother?”
Jay growled with indignation. “You’re pathetic. You’re weak.” He kissed you again, as if trying to devour you. One of his rough hands slid up your dress, the other kneading your breasts through the thin fabric. 
You didn’t kiss him back. You didn’t squirm. You laid there, pressed into your bed. Jay forced his tongue into your mouth and let you choke on it. The hand had disappeared up your dress was now sliding your panties down, down your legs. Pushing your dress up to reveal your naked pussy, Jay broke the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips. He looked into your eyes. 
“You’re mine,” he said, unbuckling his belt. “You know that?” 
The words sent a flurry of goosebumps across your body. “What?”
“I said, you’re mine.” Jay held his belt in his hands and glanced at your wrists, then your face. He tossed the belt to the side and pushed your dress even further up your body, giving him access to your tummy. He spread his hand across it, rubbing it in a circular motion.
“You hate me.”
“I despise you.”
“Why would you want to have someone you hate? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“It doesn’t have to,” Jay said before spitting into his right hand. His other hand yanked his zipper down and took his cock out. It was almost scary to look at: long and angry with a reddened tip and a slight curve. He pushed your legs apart harshly. As if it were a chore, Jay stroked his cock a few times as he lined himself up with your pussy. 
With a grunt, he plunged himself inside of you, piercing through your thin membrane ruthlessly. You bit your lip to stop yourself from crying out, but it was painful. It was a searing heat that licked at your walls, down to your core. Jay didn’t bottom out, thankfully, but he was already lingering dangerously close to your cervix. He was already panting, his hands gripping your hips as he tried to catch himself. His silver cross necklace dangled in your face, so close you could twirl it around your finger. 
Just as soon as you were getting used to the strange feeling of having a cock jammed in your cunt, you heard Jay’s husky voice. “Fight back,” he whispered before pulling out and slamming back inside of you. Your eyes were trained on Jay’s, and he captured and held your gaze. He thrusted again, harshly, and the slick noise made you realize that you were wet. “You’re just letting me do this,” Jay continued, starting to develop a deep, irregular pace. Quarter notes of hard snaps of his hips, allegrisimo sixteenth-notes of incessant pounding. “Letting me take this pussy. Come on, struggle or I’ll think you want it.”
Jay continued slamming into you, leaving little half moons on your hips from his fingernails. His head dipped down to your neck, and he bit and sucked on a small spot near its base. A hickey. Jay licked a stripe up to the right of your neck and marked you there as well.
You felt wildly conflicted. You didn’t want this, you didn’t ask for this, and it felt odd. Yet at the same time, you felt so full. Every time he drove his cock into you, you felt like you would tear apart. Pain and pleasure coalesced into something you couldn’t comprehend.
Jay’s words devolved into grunting as he thrusted faster and faster. Somehow, the look on his face didn’t seem to display pleasure, or even schadenfreude. He stared at you through darkened eyes and his nose was scrunched.
“You’d let me do anything to you,” Jay said, almost accusingly. “Anything.” With another thrust, you feel something hot and fluid fill your womb, and soon the acrid smell of urine floats into your nostrils. 
Jay stares into your face, waiting for a reaction, searching your face for any weakness. When he finds none, he lets out a strangled groan of frustration and begins slamming into you wildly. He lifts your legs up, gripping them by your thighs, and takes your pussy with the aggression of an animal. “I made you a piss-whore, a dirty fucking piss whore. Aren’t you mad? Aren’t you angry? Are you a fucking robot?” He punctuated his insults with angry thrusts; you could hear the sticky amalgamation of piss and your own cum making squelching noises. You reach for the sheets beneath your hands and search for any purchase. 
Jay let out one final, irate grunt and spilled inside of you, shooting his cum all the way to your cervix. He dropped your legs back onto the bed and rested on top of you, your head between his arms. You had seen a lot of expressions on Jay’s face: anger, frustration, pride, sadistic glee, but this was something else. Something you couldn’t read. You made eye contact with him again, and he pulled out of you, staggering to his feet. He shoved his cock into his boxers and started to dress again. 
Jay opened your door, but before he did he cast one last lingering look at you as you laid on your bed. You looked a sight:forehead shining with sweat, two bright, stinging hickeys on your neck, and a pool of piss, cum, and blood oozing from your pussy onto your bed. Hurriedly, as if someone had ordered him to do so, Jay pulled out his wallet and tossed a flurry of bills on your nightstand. “Get something to eat,” he muttered before leaving, slamming your door.
Your fingers crawled down your stomach and dipped your fingers into your vaginal entrance, mimicking the stretch that Jay had given you.
As you rested there, staring at the ceiling, you decided to determine what had happened. The simple answer was that you had been raped. Could you enjoy rape? You didn’t feel like a victim. You didn’t feel like something horrible had happened to you. If you were being honest, this had been the most interesting thing that had occurred in your life. No one had ever felt so strongly about you in any capacity, and it thrilled you. Jay’s hatred invigorated you, made you feel warm.
It filled you.
You plunged your fingers into your vacant pussy and allowed yourself to moan. 
-
You woke up with a heavy body and a foggy mind. For some reason, you thought that you had woken up at Yeonjun’s party, surrounded by a pile of bodies. Instead, you woke up alone, wearing a clean nightgown. A nightgown? Hadn’t you been covered in bodily fluids last night, dressed in an outfit that Isa had picked for you? And your sheets, they were pristine. You smoothed them down as if trying to find remnants of the night before. Had you made all of that up? And if so, from where? It all sounded unreal. Riding a golf cart in the middle of a storm, partying with the Karma Club, and losing your virginity to Jay…
That’s right. You weren’t a virgin anymore. Your first kiss, your first fuck, they were both Jay’s. You glanced at your nightstand, and you the smattering of bills laying on top of your book. You picked one of the bills up, a one hundred dollar bill. You didn’t even think most stores accepted one hundred dollar bills these days. Christ. 
The next thing to do was to check your phone. A dismal sight greeted you: the time was 4:52, you had nine missed calls and 32 messages to parse through. First, the missed calls. Five from Isa, two from Jake, and one from an unknown phone number. You called that one first, and it picked up on the third ring. 
“You’re alive,” Riki said through the phone. “Jesus. Everyone thought you died.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why? You’ve been asleep for over 12 hours,” he said. “Your room door was locked. Isa’s been driving herself crazy, and Jay isn’t helping- oh, yeah, Jay is back.” 
Yeah, no shit. “That’s crazy.”
“It is crazy. Been a stupid ass night. Jay won’t tell us where he went. And Jake’s been tweaking since the party.”
“Jake?”
Riki heaved a sigh. “Yup. He’s been pacing around and he has the temper of a chihuahua right now. He’s in Won’s room right now losing his shit. Swear to God, it almost isn’t worth it being KC sometimes.”
“Stressful night,” you commented blithely.
“Isn’t it? I’m on my way to the Stoker caf right now. I’m gonna fuck up a samosa."
“Enjoy it.”
“Oh, I shall.”
You hung up on Riki and groaned. With a degree of annoyance, you flicked through your texts. 
The ones from Isa were about what you had expected. Concerned “where are you” messages that made up the bulk of the 32 texts. Clearly, she got antsy when she was on molly. It was nice to have someone care, though. You didn’t text her back yet, lest she try to come see you. If you saw anyone right now, you thought that you’d explode. 
The texts you were truly apprehensive about opening were the ones from an unknown number. The message started with “hey, it’s jake”, which boded poorly. You steeled yourself and clicked on the text. 
hey, it’s jake. wanted to let you know that i had a lot of fun partying with you last night :) we gotta get you to the club sometime soon. you me isa and riki so isa won’t be third-wheeling
i hope i didn’t make things weird last night. i didn’t mean to rush you or anything.  i tend to think with my heart first instead of my brain, which makes me do stupid shit
not that kissing you was stupid
it was actually really nice
but i know that there’s been this longstanding situation between you and jay, and you probably don’t have the best opinion of us. i can’t blame you for that. and i know i probably haven’t done a very good job of expressing it, but i’m starting to have genuine feelings for you. been that way for a while, but it’s only now that i’ve gotten the chance to show it
so i got carried away
maybe it’s too soon idk but there’s something about you that’s different. i wanna get closer to you, and even if you don’t wanna pursue anything, i’d like to remain your friend
Hastily, you texted him: Let’s talk in person, later.
Not five minutes had passed before Jake texted you: sure, whenever you want. are you okay?
You: Yeah, you?
Jake: been better. did you just get up?
You: Yeah.
Jake: you sleep like a rock
You: It’s been a long night.
You surveyed the damage Jay had done to you in your full-length mirror. Two red hickeys staining your neck, fingerprint-shaped bruises on your stomach, a bruise on your hips, and scars like crescent moons littering your arm near your elbow from his nails digging into you. You found it pretty. 
Shrugging your nightgown on, you glanced at the money that was still on the nightstand. You hadn’t actually eaten anything since you had snacked with Isa. When you left your room, a hoodie covering your nightgown, you checked to see if the Fawcett restaurant was open. It was, but to your dismay Isa was sitting with a group of her friends. She looked exhausted. You remembered that you hadn’t spoken to her or responded to her texts, and you just couldn’t bear to face her right now.
You took the back exit out of the Fawcett building. Hazily, you remembered that Riki had talked about getting a samosa. You called him, and he picked up, making loud chewing noises. 
“Hey.”
“I’m coming to get a samosa. Is the coast clear?”
“Do you mean, is Jay in the cafeteria?”
“...Yeah.”
“Nah.”
“On my way.”
You hung up the phone and, for the first time, walked towards the Stoker dorms. To get there, you had to pass the library, and you made a note to get on the roof and smoke there. It had been nearly a week since the last time you had been able to puff away on a cigarette while you brooded. 
Upon entering, its opulence in comparison to the more modest dormitories was apparent. Why did a college dorm need marble tiles, a chandelier in the dining hall, and a plus red carpet lining the hallway? Unlike the other dorms, which were two story buildings, Stoker had three stories. This was despite being the dorm with the least amount of residents. The foyer faced a staircase that split into two, ultimately leading to the same area. To your right were the glass doors that led to the restaurant. 
As you walked towards the dining area, you looked for Riki. He should have been easy to find, considering his uncommon hairstyle and large stature, but you didn’t see him. 
The dining area was, thankfully, fairly sparse. You shuffled towards the short line for their restaurant, which was a sleek, modern eatery that sold a wide variety of dishes. As you scoured the menu, you heard thudding footsteps behind you. You didn’t bother turning around. 
“Riki tricked me,” you muttered, fingering the bills you had shoved into your hoodie’s pocket. 
“It’s what he’s best at,” Jay said, his breath tickling your neck. “Getting something to eat?”
You would have thought that such close proximity to him would have made you anxious. Instead, smelling his cologne brought a sense of familiarity. Jay teased you, you were the victim. The nature of the universe. “Yeah.”
“With my money?”
“Yeah.”
Jay chuckled. “Well, look at this. I fucked you, you’re using my money…it’s like you’re my girlfriend.”
You turned to look at Jay. He retained his cocksure attitude, but something was different about him. “Don’t you already have a girlfriend?”
He frowned, crossing his arms. “Who?”
Was he an amnesiac? “Isa.”
“Isa?” he asked incredulously. 
“Yeah?”
“Isa,” Jay repeated with a scoff. “No. No, I’m not dating Isa.”
“Tell her that,” you replied.
“I should. Bitch stole my Jane’s Addiction t-shirt,” he muttered. 
“So take it back.” One of the people working beyond the counter politely told you to order, so you turned around and ordered a vegetable samosa, just like Riki. 
“I’ll have what she’s having,” Jay said, flashing his card and tapping it onto the reader.
Things were too amicable. You looked at the card reader, then at Jay, who was grinning at you wickedly. “What, no one’s ever bought you food before?”
“No.”
“Jesus fuck, you really are pathetic,” Jay said, his grin faltering. You walked over to the waiting area, next to the straws and condiments, and Jay followed you over. For a while, you fiddled with a packet of ketchup while Jay stood by, hands in his pockets. You had a million questions you wanted to ask him, but none of them felt suitable for a spot like this, out in the open. 
“Did you tell Riki?” you asked finally.
“Tell him what?” You stared at him pointedly. “What, that we fucked? No. Haven’t told anyone. Wasn’t planning on it.”
“Not even Isa?”
Jay sighed, resting his head on the wall. “No, I’m not going to tell Isa.”
You nodded, feeling a sudden chill. In hindsight, you should have worn a jacket, but you weren’t thinking straight at all. 
“You cold?”
“A little,” you said.
“It’s November, you should have worn a jacket,” Jay said, shaking his head. “Pathetic and dumb…”
When your samosas were ready, Jay got them from the counter. He handed yours to you without a word, so you accepted it quietly. You walked over to an empty table. Like everything else in Stoker, it was needlessly ostentatious. White tablecloths for a college dorm cafeteria? 
Jay sat next to you without prompting. You didn’t know why he was acting so chummy, but you decided to take advantage of it. You decided to ask him one more question. 
“Why’d you do it?” you asked quietly.
Jay waited until he had finished his bite of food before speaking. “Jesus, you’re talkative today,” he grumbled. “I almost miss when you were mute.” 
You sat there and ate your samosa, flicking the crumbs off of the tablecloth. 
“Because I wanted to,” Jay said. He opened his mouth to continue speaking, but a shadow hovered over both of you. When you turned to look at the source of the obstruction, you saw Jake, dressed in his Sad U sweatshirt. His hair was messy, as usual, and he looked exhausted. You chewed your samosa and stared at him.
“Hey,” Jake said, mustering a small smile. “Riki said you were over here.”
Of course he did. “Yeah, Fawcett’s caf is closed,” you said. 
Jake nodded, his hair bouncing. “Wanted to what, Jay?”
Jay looked at Jake inquisitively. “What?”
“You said ‘because you wanted to’,” Jake said, and he began pressing his knuckles against the table. “Wanted to what?”
“Oh, that,” Jay said jovially. “I was talking about last night. I fucked her until she bled and she liked it. Didn’t you, sweetie?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Jake said; his knuckles turned white and his voice was low.
“She was so wet,” Jay continued, putting his samosa on a paper towel. “And she purred like a kitten. The only problem was that she was tight as a bitch. I couldn’t even get my dick out of her.”
Jake slammed his hand on the table. “Fucking stop!”
Jay turned to you, his voice becoming polite. “See, Jakey here is having flashbacks. He hasn’t gotten laid in a long time. The last time he fucked a girl, was, well…”
Jay’s head snapped back as Jake landed a punch squarely on his cheek. You caught the smile burgeoning on Jay’s face before he stood up.
“Look at Jakey, trying to be a real man in front of a girl,” Jay said, dodging Jake’s wild punches. “You weren’t so brave last year.” 
Jake lunged for Jay’s throat and they tumbled to the ground. This was fun and all, but you didn’t really sign up for this. “Jake, stop,” you said, mainly because you felt like you had to.
“He’s always saying vile shit about you,” Jake said, holding Jay’s arms above his head. “This isn’t the first time he’s said gross, fucked up shit like that.”
Jay kneed Jake in the ribs with a gleeful smile, causing Jake to momentarily let go of Jay’s hands. The thought of getting in there and trying to pry them apart seemed funny, but it also repulsed you greatly. You got to your feet, took your samosa, and walked away from the dining hall. Whatever history Jay and Jake had, it went beyond you. You felt like you were a pawn in someone else’s game. 
When you got to the doors of the dining hall, Riki was posed in front of them, recording the fight with his phone. He smiled at you, shut his phone off, and pocketed it. “Pretty cool, right?”
“You tricked me,” you said, pointing at him with your samosa. 
Riki took a bite out of your meal. “I told you,” he said through a garbled mouthful, “I love starting shit.”
You couldn’t deny that he was an honest liar. You tucked yourself into a corner and watched Jay and Jak attempt to maul each other. 
You ate your samosa while Riki spoke. “You didn’t try to break up the fight?”
“Why bother?”
Riki craned his head towards your pastry again, so you held it up to him. “They say that indifference is the greatest form of contempt.”
“Thanks for the life lesson, Girl Meets World,” you deadpanned.
He snorted and wiped crumbs from his mouth. “I think I’m starting to understand why Jay is so obsessed with you.”
“Yeah? Why?”
Riki looked down at you and gave you an odd, almost solemn smile. “I think you’re the only person who cares less about life than him.”
You needed a smoke. Badly. Ideally, you’d like to be put into a 3-day medically induced coma, but a smoke would suffice for now. 
Unfortunately, life wouldn’t award you that kindness. As you sat in your room, debating on just opening the window and having a sneaky cigarette inside, you heard a knock on the door. A groan slipped from your lips before you opened it.
There stood a battered Jake. Split lip, one puffy, red cheek, and an eye that was swelling. “Jay looks worse,” Jake said with a small laugh. You knew that wasn’t true. “Can I come in?”
You nodded and gestured for him to sit down. He sat on the edge of the bed, resting his hands on his jeans as he gathered his thoughts. You locked the door and sat next to him. 
“I wanted to apologize,” Jake said, licking the fresh wound on his lip. “I acted…I wasn’t acting like myself. I was just so angry that he said those things about you, and it just…”
“It’s fine,” you said, looking down at your hands. 
“Thanks,” he said, sounding relieved. Then he frowned again as he glanced around your room. “Listen, uh…you heard Giselle talk about the Mina thing, right?”
“Yeah,” you said carefully. “I don’t know what it is, though.” 
“Wow. Riki kept his mouth shut for once? Impressive. Well…I figure, if we’re going to be friends, I should be honest with you. This is gonna be kind of heavy, so you know, we can save this for another time, or something…”
“I’ll be fine,” you said. “Go ahead.”
Jake cleared his throat and stared at the ceiling. “Well, last year I had a thing with this girl, Mina. She was…she was really shy. Cute. Artsy. She sort of reminds me of you, in some ways, but she wasn’t as mature as you are. Mina was kind of flighty, you know? She always did whatever she wanted.
“We had the same philosophy class, which is how we met. We sat next to each other, and we would talk during class. So we started hooking up, and you could say that we got pretty close. So, earlier this year, in April, I took her to this KC party. Mina wasn’t the biggest party girl, but she liked to take dabs and chill. The others didn’t mind me taking her, so she came with me.” Jake swallowed and glanced at you before returning his attention to the ceiling.
“We had both had a bit too much to drink, so I took her upstairs to my dorm room. And then…I suggested that we fool around a little. And, well, I got a little…I’m pretty rough. It’s not anything bad, it’s just how I like it. She liked it too. It was one of the reasons why we got along so well back then. So I was rough that night, but she liked it. She was definitely acting like she liked it. I don’t know what happened. The morning after, she was freaking out. She was pointing at all the bruises and calling me…she said that I…” Jake rubbed his chin harshly. “It was all bullshit. I don’t know why she didn’t just break up with me instead of trying to ruin my life like that. She spread that shit over the school, she tried…she tried to sue me. All because I wanted to have fun with my girlfriend.”
You waited for him to mention the suicide attempt, but he never did. Instead, Jake let the silence linger, and it was suffocating. 
“Thank you for telling me,” you said, and to drive your point home, you gently touched his arm. Jake looked down at your hand and smiled. 
“I thought you should know,” he said softly. “I wanted you to know.” Jake leaned back on his hands and sighed. “Feels so great to get that off my chest.”
You nodded, rubbing his arm gently, mentally reviewing all of the information you knew. 
“You know what I love about you?” Jake said. “You’re such a good listener. I feel like I can talk to you about anything.”
“I’m glad,” you said.
“Hey.” Jake grasped the hand on his arm and squeezed it tightly. “I meant it, you know. I do like you, but I’m willing to wait, or even just be your friend. It’s all up to you.”
Jesus. How did regular people deal with this? You looked at your conjoined hands as you tried to come up with something to say. “I’ve never even had a friend,” you said slowly, “so this will take a while.”
“I’ll wait,” Jake said earnestly, his eyes glittering. 
“I’ll need those free smoothies first.”
He laughed. “Yeah, of course. Of course, I’ll hook you up. Let’s head to Stopkewich on Monday, yeah? After the library?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Jake reluctantly let go of your hand and stood up. “I’m gonna go to the health clinic,” he said, jerking his thumb at his eye. “Can’t have this ruining the masterpiece.”
“Be careful,” you said, walking him the short distance to the door. 
“Will do,” Jake said with a wide grin. “See you, Wednesday.” 
As soon as he left, you pulled out your phone and texted Riki.
You: I need Jay’s number.
Riki: why lol
You: It’ll be interesting. I might plant more seeds of strife between your two friends.
Riki: be careful w that
Riki: there’s a delicate balance to shit-stirring
Riki: u can’t do too much of KC will be ruined 
Riki: *or
Riki: like u can’t tell jay some shit that’ll make him hate jake 
Riki: they should hate each other but ntm yk?
You: You’re full of sage advice.
Riki: ikr 
Riki gave you Jay’s number, and you texted him: We need to talk.
Fifteen minutes later, he responded.
Jay: ask nicely.
You didn’t know why you bothered.
You: Never mind. 
Jay: you need to learn how to swallow your pride sometime, you know that?
Jay: thought you would have gotten humbled last night.
You: It wasn’t nearly that transformative an experience.
Jay: god, you’re a cunt. 
Jay: i hope you aren’t getting clingy on me 
Jay: hate it when girls do that
You: You don’t have to talk to me again after this.
Jay: now you’re being dramatic 
Jay: where did you want to meet? your room again? 
You: Rooftop of the library at 11.
Jay: you text like a hitman
Jay: see you then
You were on the rooftop at 10:50, finally enjoying your cigarette. You breathed in the smoke, enjoying the subtle burn, and sighed. The rooftop was damp, so you bunched your coat under your butt and sat on it. The air was chilly, but you didn’t mind. You were focused on getting answers.
Shortly after you had finished your first cigarette, Jay sat down next to you, under the awning of the rooftop. It was hard to see his face in the darkness, the only light source being the full, luminous moon. Judging from the little you could see, you could tell that Jay had gotten the upper hand in the fight. “I didn’t know you smoked,” Jay said. 
You stubbed your cigarette out on the roof and shrugged. 
“I could use a smoke,” Jay said. “What do you smoke?”
You pulled another cigarette out of the pack and placed it between your lips. “Marlboro Lights.”
“You smoke lights? You’re as pussy as your boyfriend,” he said, holding his hand out. “What are you staring at? Give me one.”
You handed him a cigarette and lit your own. Jay leaned towards you, cigarette hanging from his lips, so you lit his own as well. 
The both of you sat there, taking long, peaceful drags. You closed your eyes as you smoked, relishing in the quiet. Jay’s presence didn’t bother you, either.
“I take it you didn’t bring me here to smoke with you,” he said after a while. 
“No,” you said. “I want to know about Mina.”
Jay coughed before barking out a sarcastic laugh. “Mina?”
“Giselle mentioned her at the party last night,” you said, taking another drag. “Jake got weird when Giselle said her name…”
“Giselle has such a big mouth,” Jay said. “Don’t know why Heeseung keeps her around.” He took another hit from his cigarette and looked out at the skyline. “You wanna know what happened with Mina? I’ll tell you what happened with Mina.
“Jake doesn’t know how to pick a decent girl to fuck, that’s his problem. He’s obsessed with finding some girl with mental problems and rehabilitating her using the healing power of his 2 incher. So if you thought he liked you for your stunning personality, then I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news. He likes you because he thinks you’re weak. Mina was even worse, though. She thought she was special because she liked listening to indie music and smoking weed and having crystals and taking Seroquel. Jake loved that shit, though.
“So we had this party in Sunoo’s room. His room is on the top floor, so everyone kind of just spreads out anyways, out into the halls…you don’t care about any of this. Anyways, it was a small party and Jake brought Mina. They fucked in his room and the next day she was saying that Jake raped her.”
“Did he?”
Jay scoffed. “Who knows? The point is that he freaked out at her. Jakey is really conscious about his image. He likes being ‘the nice one’, so he’s always pretending like he’s not as fucked as the rest of us. So he lost his shit, started spreading rumours, dragging her name through the mud. It was pretty funny, but like I said, she was already fucked in the head. 
“So she called Jake one night, like a month after the party, and she’s hollering, saying all kinds of crazy shit. She said…” Jay took a long drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out. “That she was in the bathroom at her dorm, Fawcett. That she was going to take a shit ton of pills and kill herself and put him in her note, yada yada. I thought it was the usual borderline personality ‘please give me attention’ routine, so I was laughing about it, but Jake was tearing himself up. He was too pussy to go over there, so I had to do it.
“You ever seen someone overdose? Mina’s body was twitching and she was literally foaming at the mouth. I had to make sure that she didn’t knock her head against a sink and crack her skull open. I had to sit there and wait while Jake sat in his room with his thumbs stuck up his ass. She stopped breathing at one point, so I had to give her CPR. After that, she left the school.” 
You looked down at your hands. “What’d she overdose on?” 
Jay stared at you. “What, why does that matter? A girl almost died in front of me. Fuck, I was there when they had to give her naloxone. She probably overdosed on her stupid antipsychotics, who gives a shit?” He sighed and rubbed his eyes. 
“Were you scared?”
“Scared? No, I wasn’t scared. I was just…pissed. Pissed that Jake sent me to clean up after his problem.”
You let out a long trail of smoke, and the two of you fell silent again. The air felt thick now, heavy with tension. 
“You know, I didn’t even like it,” Jay said after a while. 
“Like what?” You stubbed out your own cigarette and pulled another one out of your pack. You didn’t normally smoke this much, but you felt as though you were making up for the nights you had missed. 
“Pass me another cig?” Jay opened your mouth, so you put the cigarette in and lit it for him. “I didn’t like fucking you.” He let out a long trail of smoke and leaned his head against the wall. “Physically, it felt good, but I didn’t get what I wanted from it.”
“What did you want?”
Jay chuckled. “What did I want? What I wanted…I wanted to feel something different, besides the way I feel every single day.”
You blew smoke out of the corner of your mouth. “And how do you feel?”
“Nothing. I don’t feel a damn thing.”
“Maybe,” you began drolly, “you should try having sex with someone you like.”
“Won’t happen,” he said. “I don’t like anyone.”
“So what about Is-,”
Jake groaned and pointed his cigarette at you. “Isa, Isa, Isa. You know what her problem is? She thinks she can change me. I don’t get it. She gets with me, and then she’s like, ‘Jay, hold my hand in public!’ ‘Jay, can you text me good morning?’ ‘Jay, can you take me to Nobu?’ I hate that. All those bullshit romantic gestures. They’re not me, and I don’t know why she thinks I would change for her. I can’t change, and I won’t change for anyone.”
You didn’t speak, so Jay continued talking. “I don’t think people can change, you know. I think whatever you show is who you are. When people ‘change’ because they get a little money, that’s just them expressing what they couldn’t before. It’s not that rich guys are all pedophiles. Every poor family has an uncle that likes touching kids. It’s already in you, and it’s just a matter of whether or not you have the means to express it.”
“I don’t think so,” you said quietly. 
“No? Please, enlighten me with your personal philosophy, Ms. ‘I’ll Let My Boyfriend Get beat Up Cause I’m So Aloof.’”
You sucked in a breath of smoke and blew it out slowly, watching the delicate tendrils evaporate into the night air. “I think if a person no longer believes a fundamental truth, then they change. If a child no longer thinks that they’re safe in their house, then they’ll change their behavior.”
“Yeah,” Jay said, “but they still have the capacity to do so. It’s still in their ability to change.”
“Well, change is a conscious decision. You’re saying that people can’t change, I think they can.”
“Quite an optimistic take from the gloomiest bitch in Sad.”
You shrugged. “I never said people always changed for the better.”
“I guess not.” Jay smoked his cigarette quietly for a minute before saying, “You think your boyfriend changed, or do you think he always had it in him to drive a woman to suicide?”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you said. 
“Ooh,” Jay said mockingly, “what are you going to do if I call him your boyfriend?”
You held your cigarette up, grinning. “I’ll put this out on you.”
Only the faintest of Jay’s features were visible in the darkness, but you could see his lips contort into a slight smile. “I dare you.” He took his jacket off, tossing it to the side, and rolled up his thin long-sleeve. “Do it.”
“It’s too dark,” you said.
 In response, Jay took your hand and pressed it on a spot near his elbow. “Right here,” he whispered. “Right here.”
When had you ever denied Jay of a request? You took your dying cigarette from your mouth and ground it into his arm. At first, you did it slowly, but as he hissed, you twisted the cigarette in. If you listened closely, you could hear the flesh searing. A quiet moan escaped Jay’s lips, a sound that made you feel a familiar warmth. When the cigarette was all but ash, you flicked the remaining butt away. 
“My turn,” Jay whispered. Cigarette clamped between his lips, he reached out and zipped your jacket all the way down. You pulled it off yourself, placing it near his own. Jay gently pushed you onto the roof, so that you were staring up into the sky. With warm hands, he pulled your sweater up, exposing a strip of your bare, tender skin.  You lifted your head up so you could see his movements. One hand held your stomach, his thumb idly swiping at it. The other hand was lowering the cigarette onto your flesh. 
It stung and burnt. You felt no shame in letting out a yelp of pain, but Jay kept going. Good. You wanted him to burn you completely, to leave a scar. You felt that heat grow within you, spreading from your core to your heart to your neck. Jay dug the cigarette into your skin the same way you had done to him. He tossed the butt aside. Then he licked the wound, his cool tongue acting as a balm against the searing pain. Jay swirled his tongue around the circular scar, and you whimpered. 
“You like that?” Jay whispered, both hands running up and down the side of your body.
You hated to lie. “Yeah.”
“Then get to work.” He sat up, so that he was on his knees. You lifted yourself off of the ground as well. Your lips met his expectant mouth, and he tasted like ashes. Jay’s hands remained on your waist, stroking you lightly. It was the first real kiss you had ever initiated, and you weren’t entirely sure where to put your hands. Jay picked up on your apprehension and guided your hands down to his belt.
It was difficult, getting his belt off in the darkness, but you managed to figure it out. “Touch me,” Jay said. 
“How?” 
“Just…” Jay sighed. He placed one of his hands over yours and showed you how to rub him over his pants. “Like that. You don’t have to touch it directly right now.” With that, he resumed kissing you, leaving you to palm his crotch. It was fascinating, feeling his cock harden under your hand like that. You applied a little more pressure, and Jay groaned into your mouth. “Yeah, like that.”
You felt his fingers dance over your knees, along your thighs, and pause by your panties. “No one’s ever touched you here, right?” he asked, whispering against your ear. “Like this?”
“Just me,” you said quietly. 
“I didn’t think you fucked yourself,” Jay said quietly. “How often?”
“Depends…” As you talked, Jay had started to rub your engorged clit through your underwear. 
“Mm. What do you think about?”
“I don’t know,” you said. Your head felt like it was filled with cotton. 
“Keep rubbing me,” Jay whispered. “Don’t slack off, now. Tell me what you think about when you’re cumming your pretty little head off.”
“I read…erotica,” you admitted quietly.
Jay laughed, but it didn’t sound as cruel as it usually did. “Of course you do. You read those bodice-rippers where the innocent little maiden gets pounded by some asshole while she cries, ‘No, no!’, right?”
You bit your lip, and he stroked your clit faster. “Don’t get shy on me now,” Jay said, “we were really getting somewhere. So you fuck yourself to books like that? Do you imagine yourself as the innocent little maiden, is that it? Hoping someone will just push your legs apart and fuck you? Is that what the prude thinks about?”
You didn’t speak, so Jay removed his fingers. “Tell me,” he muttered. “Tell me and I’ll let you cum. Tell me the truth.”
Rationality had left you long ago. You used to look down upon people who would throw away their lives and relationships for quick pleasure, but now all you wanted was for Jay to drive you to the edge, make you cum. “If you’re really good,” Jay whispered, “I’ll fuck you slow this time. I’ll be real gentle.”
“I do,” you said, wincing at your own weakness. “I do imagine myself as her. I want someone to…”
Jay kissed your lips once, twice, three times. “Say it,” he said, two of his fingers stroking your clit at an excruciatingly close pace. 
“I want someone to fuck me,” you said finally. 
“Of course you do,” Jay said, still teasing you. “You liked it when I fucked you, right? You liked that I took what I wanted from you. Admit it.”
If Jay was right regarding his fatalistic theory about humanity’s inability to change, then you were fucked. You hated to believe that this simpering desperation had been inside of you the entire time. “I liked it,” you said, head bowed.”
Jay removed his fingers again, and you looked at him with wide, confused eyes. “You said you’d let me cum.”
“Yeah,” Jay said, lowering his jeans, “you’re going to cum on my dick, and you’ll like it. You loved it last time.”
You tugged your panties down, wincing at the wet, shlicking noise they made. “Just let me do everything,” he said. His voice was uncharacteristically soft. 
Once more, your back hit the cool cement of the rooftop. Jay pulled your panties off completely, tossed them aside, and parted your legs. “Close your eyes,” he whispered. 
His cock teased your entrance before he plunged himself inside. Jay fucked your pussy shallowly this time, allowing himself to enjoy it. “Fuck, fuck, that’s good.” It was so much better now that you were wet. Instead of a harsh intrusion, it was more like a pleasant, warm fullness. You ached for him to go deeper. 
“More,” you murmured, and you heard Jay laugh. 
“More? You don’t want me to be gentle? You don’t want me to treat you with kid gloves?” Jay pulled his dick out of you completely, and you shook your head. 
“No, no, I want more, I want it…please.”
“Please,” Jay said, like it was the first time he’d ever heard the word. “Please. You’re killing me.” 
Jay slammed his cock inside of you, hitting you at an angle that made you see stars.  He gathered your wrists in one hand and held them above your head; the other hand braced itself beside you. Every thrust made you gasp with pleasure.
“Jake would fucking…kill himself…if he saw this shit,” Jay grunted, rutting his hips against yours. He was rough, just like the first time. He could hardly talk, speaking through gritted teeth. “If he saw his little crush in a fucking, fucking mating press…fuck…” 
Your gasps had turned into moans as he thrusted inside of you. You wished you could cover your mouth, but Jay still had your wrists pressed against the concrete. You bit your lip instead, trembling as you felt Jay tease the hard muscle of your cervix. You had never managed to get a good look at his cock, but you figured it had to be big. From the way he made Isa choke, to the way he was close to bottoming out. 
Jay used his other hand to squeeze your face. “No, you don’t,” he heaved. “You’re gonna moan for me. Moan like…like a whore. Like a good fucking whore.” 
The second you opened your mouth, you let out another desperate cry. “You love this,” Jay said, under your sweater. He groped your tits painfully, squeezing them like they were inanimate objects. “You love being treated like this, don’t you?”
“I do,” you gasped out. “I like it, Jay.”
“You love it.” He let go of your wrists, grabbed your hips, and moved you up and down his cock himself. With your free hands, you braced yourself on the ground. You could barely take it, but you loved the feeling of being pushed to the edge. 
“Close,” you panted out.
“Fuck,” Jay said. “Come with me.”
“Where?”
Jay paused, ever so briefly, before laughing. It was the first time you had ever heard him genuinely laugh; he tossed his head back and let loose as he held your hips. “You goofy bitch,” he said, pulling out of you. “Nearly made me lose my orgasm.” You let out a nervous laugh, unsure of what to do next. 
He sank deeply inside of you again, but he couldn’t stop giggling. “Where,” Jay muttered. You couldn’t bear to have him tease you anymore, so you kissed him. He reciprocated, slipping his tongue into your mouth. Soon, Jay had built up the same speed, and his kisses moved to your neck. 
“Gonna cum,” he warned, “where do you want it?”
“Inside,” you said, reaching down to play with your clit. 
“Right answer,” Jay said. He drove his cock to the hilt, frantically chasing his orgasm. You weren’t far behind, chills dancing all over your body. “Fuck, fuck, yes, fuck, yes, yes, fuck!”
You came mere seconds after he did, your pussy gripping him tightly. Your back arched as you let out a series of moans. They echoed into the night sky; everyone in Stoker could probably hear you.  You shuddered as you felt yourself clench around his girth over and over again. His hot cum painted your walls, and when you opened your eyes you saw Jay jerking himself off inside you, draining his balls. 
Jay rolled away from you, gasping. “Jesus fuck. I haven’t had a nut like that in…months.”
You crawled over to your jacket and collapsed on top of it. Jay joined you soon after, lying down on his own coat. If you spoke, you felt like you would make everything real. You shivered, both from the lingering aftershocks and from the chill outside. You realized that you had spent the last 4 nights running around storms and hurricanes. It was a wonder you hadn’t come down with hypothermia. 
“Cold?” Jay asked. You nodded, and Jay put his arm around you loosely. He rubbed your arm noncommittally before simply resting his hand on your skin.  
You stared at the night sky; Sadame wasn’t in the country, but it was far enough from the major cities that you could see a decent amount of stars. 
“There’s the North Star,” Jay said, pointing. “And that’s the big Dipper.”
You shifted to look at him. “You like stargazing?”
“Used to,” he said, facing you. “When my parents would fight, I would leave the house….head to the park near my house and lie on a hill. I’d lie on the grass there and just stare at the stars for hours.”
“You never got scared?”
“Nah,” Jay said. “They were scarier than whatever was out there.”
“When my parents fought, I would just read books,” you said. “I got good at blocking them out.”
“Hm. Where are your cigs?”
“One second.” You rummaged through your jacket’s pocket and procured your cigarettes and lighter. Jay took a cigarette, put one in his mouth and one in yours. He took your lighter and gestured for you to lean in. Jay lit both of your cigarettes at once and tossed you the lighter. 
Jay took a long drag and blew the smoke into the air. “What kinds of books did you read?”
You didn't have to think. “Mm…I liked fantasy books. Sci-fi. Anything different from reality. I liked Animorphs, too, actually.”
Jay chuckled. “Really? Those books with the covers of the kids turning into antelopes and shit?”
“Yeah,” you said. “They were pretty good. I was so envious of them, especially Rachel. Imagine how cathartic it would be to be able to turn into an elephant and stomp around.”
“Was that a very common power fantasy for you?”
“It was.” You imitated the sound of an elephant, and Jay snorted.
“You’re doing it again,” he said quietly. 
The smile dropped off of your face. “Doing what?”
“Quit playing dumb,” Jay said. As if he had been shocked, Jay rose to his feet and hurriedly put his coat on. You couldn’t help the wave of disappointment that washed over you. So he was going to leave you alone again, even after that.
“It’s cold as hell out here,” he said in an irritated voice. “Put your coat on. Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“My room,” Jay said, jerking his head in the direction of Stoker. “I have a bottle of jack in there, if you aren’t tired.” He held his hand out, waving it impatiently. “Hurry up.”
Tomorrow, you would have to text Isa back. Tomorrow, you’d have to talk to Jake. Maybe you’d see Lily, get a smoothie. You’d go do your homework. 
Tomorrow, you’d have to reconcile with Mina’s story and how that would affect your burgeoning friendship with Jake. You'd have to figure out if Riki could be trusted in any capacity. You’d have to figure out what you were to Jay, and who Jay was to you. If you should be something to each other at all.
For today, you simply took Jay’s hand.
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corollaservant · 1 month
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Night in the Net // Shigaraki x f! reader (18+)
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Synopsis: You find yourself stranded in one hell of a sexist environment: the small town's internet café. Shigaraki's on the night shift. (3.6k)
Warnings: sex with Shiggy basically, mild degradation and misogyny from our fav incel, dom!Shiggy with a twist (no quirk obviously), use of “dollface” (i like it)
A/N: No dark themes here, peace n luv. Also.. yeah he is always linked to some gaming/electronic business ik!! but I like the trope/hc/almost canon.
You'd never imagine this was how your night would end.
Why are you there again? Right, your friends wanted to go to that after party, as if the club wasn't enough. What was supposed to be a night out ended up with you in the local internet café (the only after hours spot) while your friends decided to go to a house party with loud techno music, which definitely wasn’t your vibe. You and your friends lived close and would often call a taxi on your way home, money wasn’t enough for you to ride solo today though—you prayed in times like these that you at least had a job; you wouldn’t have to rely on anyone then. 
You knew pretty much everyone there, it’s not like the town had more than ten thousand residents and considering the age group and schools you’d all gone to, the internet café only had a few unknown members. On today’s shift was none other than Tomura of course, that guy was taking up as many shifts as his body would allow him to, apparently there was this rumor a family member was in crucial condition and they were in need. Tomura Shigaraki was one of these people you had branded as incel. Though hardworking (he kept a house of his own, cleaning and doing all chores by himself while providing for whomever he had), you still considered the guy as one. Now—you know the term is heavy, matter of fact, quite offending and serious as an allegation but it’s not like there weren’t rumors. Rumors he’d bash women and call them prostitutes, try to sleep with girls and trash them to his friends a day later, hating them for anything they did and claiming true love didn’t exist nowadays because “all women are sluts, who need money and validation.” Plus, he worked at the local internet café (should be enough reason), engaging in heated conversations with his friends and fellow streamers. God, one look in their chats and you'd get as violent as possible— (not much, you'd discovered it the hard way). Thus, it was no surprise that when you enter the place, you hear whispers and scoffs.
‘’The hell are you doing here?’’ A voice was heard from within, the café had the computer screens up front, a bar and a couch with TV in the back. Tomura was occupied in the designated bar the place had (you often wondered what kind of needs these people had—all they ever consumed was energy drinks and pre-packaged meals, takeouts were for reasons of competitive market prohibited).
‘’Just dropping by for a couple of hours, will leave soon.’’ You sigh as you take a seat on the couch, not bothering to talk to anyone, it wasn’t like they cared anyway. Loud noise and laughter can be heard all around, a couple of guys swearing and some younger boys excitedly standing above their screens. The store had a 16+ policy, but of course, no one ever checked so kids could practically stare unattended. Tomura also encouraged younger boys to play, such a piece of shit, you think, getting them to learn young. 
‘’Oh my fucking God, a slut just joined!’’ You hear some guy swear, presumably because a girl joined their online server. These guys were so disgusting, you cringe, it was no wonder they were celibate without wanting it. You stand up, you need to kill some time and you're feeling bored, you think about starting a fight with Tomura, how else could you have a little bit of fun?
You weren’t ever necessarily afraid of the guy, even though you had to admit, he looked intimidating. Quite tall with a pale complexion, ashy, dull hair and scars across his face; no one actually knew much about him and whether he was troubled, it’s not like he ever showed to work beaten up or high and usually kept a low profile. The only frightening thing this man had was his smile, it terrified you sometimes as it looked downright evil. 
‘’Getting them to learn young, huh?’’ You ask him, he’s washing up some cups from the previous round of gross gaming guys, who have now left.
‘’What?’’ He responds, not bothering to look up. 
‘’How to not get women, I mean.’’ You sigh as he huffs in annoyance.
‘’You should be grateful I let a female in my store in the first place.’’ He retorts, but doesn’t seem very angry, just ironic. Usual.
My store (you decide to skip over 'female') sounds funny but you choose not to comment on it. 
‘’So how long until you guys close?’’ You don't bother with the vocabulary—it’s routine at this point. It also never ends well and you had a great night so far, why ruin it now?
‘’Two hours.’’ 
‘’Mind if I sit on the couch? I’ll be quiet I promise’’ You ask—technically beg, as you see no other options.
‘’Ugh.. yeah I mind. There’s some guys wanting to use it, I have a group for GTA on the PS5.’’
‘’Seriously? People still play that?’’ You whine but force yourself to continue.
 ‘’Can I sit with you then?’’ It takes strength—but you say it regardless. You came to terms with the fact he was your last resort minutes ago.
‘’Sure. But you need to make yourself useful. Here, take this.’’ He hands you a wet sponge, ‘’Wash these up... carefully, while I go clean the floors.’’ He orders, as if you’re part of the staff (and new on the job apparently.)
‘’Do you actually want me to wash freaking dishes? I just came here to chill, I don’t even bother anyone!’’ You start feeling annoyed with the chores, you aren’t 16 and he isn’t your mom.
‘’You can always leave.’’ The running tap stops and he turns to you, practically shoving the wet gloves on your chest. 
‘’Or...you can stop being a brat and be of use during your stay, I have two hours left.’’ He smiles, that same smile that makes your skin crawl and blood boil as he moves away.
‘’Fuck! My dress, you asshole!’’ A wet patch now covers the too short dress as you glance at the time on your phone. 
Two hours. Two hours until your friends leave and he closes up anyway.
-
Tomura was at least true to his words. Within two insufferable hours of having to listen to appalling conversations between men (hardly to be considered as such), plate washing and the toilet being constantly occupied, the last customers get up to leave. 
You dry your hands and plop down the couch exhausted.
‘’Finally.’’ You exhale checking your phone, your friends hadn’t given you any life signs in the meantime, so you decide to patiently wait, they’d message eventually. Tomura is done sweeping the nasty floors from crumbs and dried Monster remnants, which he still has to mop (for the fourth time, you note and you've only been there some hours). You notice how restless he seems—the guy has been running the whole night after ignorant customers, who had not once shown basic respect for the order of the place yet never complained. Truly a shame he has such a misogynistic mindset, you think. He could get women, if he wanted to. 
It’s around 6:30 AM, when he presses a button to close the store's roll-up shutters halfway. Small light outside makes its way in but the place is still relatively dark, as he places the mop near the wall and takes a seat next to you.
‘’Fuuck, I’m so tired.’’ He sighs, making sure to spread his legs on the couch as much as he can, not caring (of course) about you also sitting on it. 
You always branded Tomura as an incel, that you knew about. But despite that, you now can’t help but feel for him, not knowing much about him at the same time. Sure, he technically isn’t the nicest guy but a look around would show you that he tries enough for a job kicking his ass. You find yourself sympathizing with a man, whose ideals you hate and try to brush these thoughts off.
‘’And why the fuck am I an incel anyway?’’ He asks, his head rests on the couch and his eyes are closed, he is scrunching severely—almost threatening to fall down. And he manspreads. A lot.
‘’W-well– I..’’ You never thought he’d caught on to that, stammering to stand your ground as you continue. ‘’Well, there have been rumors about you.’’ You say, but it doesn’t come off as confident as you’d hoped for. You also realize, it sounds kind of stupid.
‘’Reaaally? And you made sure to believe them, right?’’ His tone’s laced with irony but the way he talks like he whispers in a raspy voice doesn't annoy you anymore. It makes you more... uncomfortable? On the edge? Excited?...what?
‘’It’s not like you don’t claim it yourself.’’ You retort, finally finding some courage. You notice him looking at you as you awkwardly shuffle in your seat.
‘’All I’ve ever said was that I think women are good for nothing. And I still believe that, but I wouldn’t waste more of my time on that.’’ The statement makes you roll your eyes.
‘’How can you generalize a whole group of people, who are literally in no way inferior to you, you can’t tell me you’ve tried—’’ 
‘’Listen dollface, unless you want to change my mind there’s no reason to fuss that much, my opinion won’t change.’’
Unless you want to change my mind?
‘’I-I don’t.’’ You stammer, because the answer and pet name (dollface??) takes you by surprise and he laughs.
‘’Relax, you branded me an incel.’’ He jokes, ‘’don’t want the rape allegations on me too.’’ 
The more he talks, the more your mind races and you curse yourself. He seems..funny? He has a mole under his lips—fuck, it looks cute...He also looks good so (stupid as it is, yes!) you silently want his attention. Why can’t he just look you in the eyes more?
This is so wrong. He must've noticed your lost gaze as he speaks up.
‘’Wanna watch a movie?’’ He proposes and you nod, anything is better than the silence hanging in the air. Silence you caused. For thinking... things about him. 
Of course Tomura ends up choosing the most depressing film anyone can possibly watch in an internet café at 6 AM, Fallen Angels, and the dramatic cuts make it hard for you to concentrate. He at a certain point leans closer to you but you justify it, how else would he be able to see?
During this one scene, the woman pleasured herself with her legs closed, rubbing together and that’s when you feel a soft hand touch on your thigh. The dress you wore rode up, because your legs rested on the table ahead so it gave him the space he needed. The movement made you tingle and your core involuntarily contracted. The smooth fingers teasingly trailed up and down your leg, from your knees to your inner thighs. You didn’t want to look at him—he was too close and the scene seemed endless. But…he went on about it as if nothing was happening. 
Without saying a word, he carried on. A pad of his finger tip dangerously close to your now heated entrance, the images flashing before your eyes lewd, his hand tempting and threatening to reach your already soaked cunt—all this while the two of you hadn’t even shared a kiss. But he doesn't stop, looking ahead and acting like everything’s fine, until he touches your lower lips and you hiss, his finger traces the wet spot over your underwear while you try to move and speak up. 
‘’W–what are y—’’
‘’Shh..’’ is all he says. 
You want to tell him no. But no to what? You like the feeling of his two fingers against your folds. His palm moves your panties to the side and he stuffs them inside—they dampen from the fluids. How is he that quick? You can’t form a response but you’re about to ask him why—
‘’All that and I haven’t even kissed you.’’ He murmurs, gaze still fixated on the television ahead as you moan, when he slowly pumps them within your walls. Fuck, are you turned on by this?
‘’P-please..’’ You whisper, turning to look at him and for the first time, his eyes are removed from the stupid TV, a sly smile on his features as he tears away his hand.
‘’What is it? Want the incel to kiss you? Maybe even fuck you to prove a point?’’ He says and you frown.
‘’I—no, I have to go.’’ You get up, fixing (lowering) your dress—you have nowhere to go but you’ll figure it out eventually. You think staying longer only plays into his cruel intentions and whilst you can’t deny the pleasure he could give you, your pride’s in the way.
‘’You’re not going anywhere.’’ A wet hand clasps around your wrist and brings you on his lap, as he grins; you seem confused at the sensation. You are hiding the TV screen but he couldn't care less, he never paid attention to the movie.
‘’Feel the stain you left, too?’’ He says as he brings your face closer with the sticky palm grabbing you by the hair. You softly moan, noticing the small mole up close and feeling a bulge poke where your bodies meet. You sway your hips in a silent effort to have him initiate a kiss, you feel desperate and curse yourself again internally. He can only smile.
(You were so clueless, walking around in that slutty dress earlier—making him hard like that, did you even know it?)
He’s quick to kiss you, eager for more already, as mouths clash, teeth collide, the need you both have exceeds proper manners. You sloppily grind against him, the friction from a long outline beneath you makes it hard to think.
‘’I’m guessing, you’re really fucking the incel then.’’ He half smirks as he grabs you and repositions you to sit on his now fully hard cock that throbs in his pants; he lifts your dress above your ass and guides your hips sluggishly back and forth— he’s tormenting you and he enjoys it to the fullest.
‘’T-tomura..p-please.’’ You whine, the urge to have him inside you makes you blabber.
‘’Please what?’’ He slides a hand behind your waist, lowering it to find your slit from behind, his fingers pet your cunt and you moan. Loudly. He is tugging at your panties, the fabric annoys him and he wants full access and the words. The words to prove his point.
‘’P–please.. fuck me already!’’ You breathe out and he groans to the sound of your voice. 
The ironic remark he’d prepared evaporates as he quickly pushes you back, just enough to not fall off his lap and quickly unzips his pants, thanking god for not wearing a belt. 
His pants and underwear are sloppily moved down his knees, as his cock jumps with a pop on his lower abdomen, stiff with a weeping tip. Pretty veins throb around it as your eyes widen.
Shit, he’s big, can you take him?
‘’I’d ask for a nice blowjob, dollface, but wouldn’t want the feminists after me.’’ He says as he brings you close, kissing you yet again, a string of spit runs down your jaw, as your hands roam his tangled, uncombed hair. 
He positions you on his cock, one hand snakes around your waist while the other one clings to the back of your scalp and you’re swiftly lifted by the head and pushed down on him, as you let out a scream.
‘’Shut the fuck up.’’ He hisses, quickly looking around, the sensation from almost his whole length makes you tremble, he feels too full, too painful..too good.
‘’Shit, c’mon now you got this.’’ He encourages as you hesitantly move up and down his cock, gripping his shoulders and looking at him—he seems more concentrated on the sensation than your body, staring at you while you wrap around his length.
‘’Fuck..dollface, this too much for ya?’’ He tries not to grunt and you give your best not to cry, each moment that goes by turning the initial pain to pleasure—your cunt adjusts slowly and bit by bit to his girth. 
‘’T-tomura.. y-yes..it’s too much!’’ You whine, sweat forms in your forehead as his hands find your swollen clit and circle it while your nails dig deeper in his shirt.
‘’You can take it.’’ He says, he feels you squeezing him in, you bounce with dedication on his legs, making the couch squeak as if on some sex tape—you want to bring yourself even closer. So nasty, aren't you? Acting righteous, only to fuck yourself on his cock like a desperate whore.
‘’I-ugh-p-please..’’ You try to speak but he secures his hand around your torso and sinks (lower than before) down the couch. Two strong hands force you to stay still in the air while he drills himself into you at a steady pace—kind of sloppily too. Both of you moan, the position gives equal pleasure, your clit bumps on his groin and his cock reaches your g-spot with ease.
‘’S–Shit, you’re squeezing way too much, haven’t you been fucked like this before?’’ He sounds annoyed but the stammer in his voice betrays him.
Not like this, you want to say but can’t really speak the words. Your weight falls entirely on him, he doesn’t mind one bit—he loves it actually, this skin on skin contact as he guides you on his cock, it feels surreal. He hits soft and spongy spots inside while you slowly fall apart. 
‘’T-Tomura right there..I ugh—I'm close!’’ The sensation overwhelms you, his eyes are still fixated on your face, yeah I can tell, he thinks. He gets off on your desperation, mouth parted all for him? Your eyes threaten to spill by the way he tears apart your cunt and morals bit by bit.. it’s—
‘’Tomura, aren't you closing yet?’’ Someone asks from outside, interrupting the moment. The shutters only show a pair of shoes. 
‘’Yeah, I’m on it.’’ Shigaraki stops composed, cockwarming you in a funny way, while a hand, his hand covers your mouth. Your eyes widen as slick trickles down his thighs in silence.
‘’Alright, see you then.’’ The man leaves and he cusses him out. (''Cunt.'')
‘’We’re not done.’’ He turns his attention back to you and seizes your face, bringing your mouth closer.
‘’Open up.’’ He orders and you do, clenching around him in anticipation.
He spits in it and closes the gap with his index finger. 
‘’Swallow or I won’t continue.’’ You quickly gulp down.
‘’So obedient all of a sudden, aren't you?’’ Sarcasm evident as he gives your ass a solid hit, before starting to get back on his pace, only more rough this time, he longs for your release on him. You’re moving up and down his length, trying to grab anything accessible really, his hair, the back of the couch, under his shirt and you feel your orgasm resurface stronger; the delay highlighted all of your senses.
‘’T-Tomura—’’ You shudder, as his cock hits your g-spot expertly–fuck, this guy wasn't some incel–and your swollen clit has to brush one last time past his groin before you feel an overwhelming orgasm take over. You clamp down his length and moan embarrassingly. (Fuck Tomura! I–I'm.. too good!) This time.. he lets you, he needs to hear this.
‘’Fuuck—agh– look at you dollface.’’ He hums, a feminist creaming herself on my cock, he wants to add but it’s too many words and you just came so he wastes no time. He brings your neck close to his mouth and bites on it, teeth sink into your flesh and hands force you all the way down. He cums inside, groaning and trying to stifle his moans by biting down the sensitive skin even harder. 
And fuck if that isn’t hot.
He keeps you on him, arms fastening your waist, cum dripping on his lowered pants but neither of you bother to care, ragged breaths and the sounds of the film still playing as more light enters through the rolled shutters.
God must’ve been on your side that day because a message appears on your screen moments after you both wordlessly got up and cleaned yourselves in the bathroom. Tomura would have to clean again, you think, as the message on your phone signals your time to leave.
You turn to look at him, he has removed his shirt and small nail scratches decorate his pale back and you..smile. What the hell? Was this..? Oh no—You try to find an appropriate goodbye.
See you soon? Thanks for the mind blowing dick? You aren’t the incel I thought you were? Everything seems embarrassing at present time. 
‘’I-I’ll be seeing you soon.’’ You opt for that, stupid as it is, you still look at him in anticipation. He turns to you, hands on the mop cleaning near the couch and nods. 
Great, you think, that was a disaster. You defeatedly walk (actually stoop to get past the almost closed door) feeling like a hooker after a client, miserable and kind of used. This is always the worst part. 
You feel an arm touch your shoulder, you’ve only taken a few steps in the daylight.
‘’Take this in case you revoke your incel statement.’’
Tomura hands you a piece of paper and quickly disappears behind the store’s shadows.
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Text
“What’s the deal with you and Harrington?”
Robin Buckley glanced up toward the question asker, her brows slightly furrowed as she cast an inquisitive look toward Eddie Munson. He’s leant up on one of his elbows, chin cradled in the palm of his hand. His eyes are on her, large and curious, instead of the usual half-lidded expression he wears during the “adult” hangouts.
They’d all started hanging out ever since Vecna was destroyed, taking time away from the younger members of The Party to spend time all together. Herself, Eddie, Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle. Sometimes, every once in a while, it led them all to feel normal. As if they hadn’t all been dealing with more Upside Down crap just a few months prior.
“What do you mean?” Robin instead asked, her eyes moving from Eddie’s to dart out toward the Harrington’s pool. Steve is sitting on the edge of it with Jonathan, the two boys heads bent together as Argyle watched on- a dopey almost lovesick expression curled on his mouth. A spliff dangled from Jonathan’s fingertips, rolled by Eddie but the weed supplied by Jonathan.
“You’re… not together.” Eddie’s voice is soft, and barely spoken above a murmur. Robin nodded slowly, and turned her head towards him to try and indicate him to continue. “Nancy and the kids all repeat platonic with a capital P, but I just… how did you and Harrington even happen?”
“Scoops A’hoy,” Robin grinned wide, barely able to stifle the laugh that’s on the backend of her words. She was able to catch the widened look that Eddie threw her way, before his eyes darted out to look towards Steve, before his eyes moved back to her own. “He and I worked there back when the mall was open.”
“And… what? You instantly became best friends?”
“No, actually.” Robin shook her head with another soft laugh, before she paused so she could rub her palms together. She allowed herself to twist one of her rings around her finger, brows pinched for a moment. “I actually thought he was like the worst, y’know?” Robin scoffed to herself, before she sent Eddie a look. She knew what she must look like, her eyes wet with tears and her gaze all permanently soft.
“You know how he was in school, King Steve and all that.” Robin continued on, and she flicked her tongue out of her mouth to wet the corner of her lips for a second. “And when my manager told me that I’d be working with a Steve, well… there was only one Steve in Hawkins I could think of.”
“So how did your opinion of him change then, Buckley?” Eddie cocked his head again, one of his hands coming up to twirl a strand of hair around his pointer finger. His brows were furrowed taut, creating a worry line in between them. “The kids told me about the Russians-”
“It was sort of before then,” Robin admitted with a small shrug, and she twisted the corner of her lip into a shy smile. “He raved to me, y’know? About uh, these kids. These five kids he’d babysit and shit, and it was so… soft?” Robin watched as Eddie mouthed out names to himself as he ticked his fingers, before he cast a look to her. “But he always talked about this one, Ellie, who he’d call his little sister.”
Eddie drew in a sharp breath, eyes wide as Robin let out a soft hum.
“Yeah, and I don’t know if you submitted yourself to Harrington family lore-” Robin gestured behind her toward the Harrington house with a flick of her hand, before she continued. “But I knew that Dick and Helen Harrington didn’t have more than one kid.”
“Supergirl?” Eddie asked softly, and Robin let out a soft confirming hum as she watched Eddie’s eyes dart toward Steve. Steve was still talking to Jonathan, though Argyle had shifted forward so he was able to join in the conversation.
“And then imagine my surprise when one day our stupid sailor ice cream shop is visited by none other than the Chief.” Robin shook her head with a small laugh, before she continued on. “And he was so excited to see Steve, Eddie. Like genuinely excited to see him, ordered a couple tubs of ice cream togo and then said he’d see him at home.”
“Fuck.” Eddie breathed out, and Robin let out another sigh of a laugh.
“And I asked Steve why the Chief of the Hawkins police force was visiting him at work, and Steve just…” Robin shrugged slowly, shaking her head to clear her thoughts before she continued. “He just gave me this look, like… like he didn’t actually know either.”
“Then later, he told me why he watched all of the kids. He told me that he would’ve given anything for someone to just… to just care about him when he was their age. That all he wanted was for just a person to give a shit about his wellbeing.” Robin shook her head again, before she carded a hand through her still chlorine sticky hair. “And after that my opinion just… it just changed about him.”
“Then the Russians?” Eddie asked softly, and Robin hummed as she dipped her chin in a curt nod.
“Then the Russians, and he didn’t… he didn’t even hesitate to take the attention onto himself when they started questioning us.” Robin shook her head again, sniffling. “And after I asked him why he would do that, and he told me it was because he knew I had a family waiting on me to come back home.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah, and then afterwards when we were getting seen by the EMTs? He didn’t have anyone to call Eddie. Because Hopper? Hopper was just… just presumed dead.” Robin let out a soft bitter laugh, and she twisted a strand of her hair around her finger. “My parents decided to take us both home after, and he stayed with us for a couple of days- until his concussion was okay enough for him to sleep through the night.”
“And that’s when you became best friends?”
“That’s when I decided that, Steve? He deserved way more from people than he seemed to ever fucking get.” Robin shrugged, before she cast a soft smile toward Eddie. Eddie’s eyes were glassy, wet with tears and Robin just patted her hand soft against his forearm. “That’s when I decided that he was my best friend.”
“Platonic with a capital P?”
Robin cast a look toward Steve, where the older teen already had his eyes on her. He had a hand extended, fingers wiggling toward her in a small way to beckon her toward his side. Robin stood without responding to Eddie, and she left her towel on the lounge chair she’d commandeered as her own. She took a moment though, cast a softer look toward Eddie- even as the corner of her lip twitched into a nervous smile.
“He’s not exactly my type, y’know?” Robin kept her admission soft, even when Eddie’s eyes were quick to flood with confusion. She instead cast a look toward the sunbathing Nancy Wheeler, who had one of her arms strewn over her face across the backyard where she laid in the grass.
When Robin let her eyes move to meet Eddie’s again, he has a look of pure understanding on his face.
“I think I get what you mean.” Eddie murmured and Robin simply flashed Eddie Munson a shy smile.
Eddie Munson watched as Robin Buckley walked away from him, quick to tuck herself into Steve’s side once she reached him. Steve threw his arm around Robin’s shoulders, tucking her further into his grasp- though the flow of conversation that he was having with Argyle and Jonathan didn’t even pause.
It’s in that moment when Eddie Munson realizes something extraordinarily fucking crucial.
He’s in love with Steve fucking Harrington.
---
this is gonna become a multipart fic i think btw! it will probably be on here / ao3, haven’t fully decided yet but hope you enjoyed nonetheless!
now with a part two! click here
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macabre-mangled · 10 months
Text
More To Grab
Astarion x Curvy/Thick!Reader
Warnings: canon typical violence, blood sucking, mostly fluff, talk about body insecurities
A/N: this doesn’t take place in a specific time in the game but you can assume it’s after that confession scene
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gif not mine ^^^
You could feel his eyes on you. There was something undetectable in them. It was hard to place but it almost seemed as though it was admiration. But that couldn’t be! He never said anything about his feelings about you. Surely you think you’re imagining it. It felt strange. His eyes not being blown with lust. But instead blown with something akin to affection. His scarlet eyes were focused, he hasn’t noticed that you know he’s looking at you. You follow his gaze to the love handles and extra pudge at your hips that is exposed by your father racey top. Ahhh. So it was lust. At least that’s what you thought.
“Astarion?”
“Hmm? Oh! Hello darling! Don’t mind me, just staring at your lovely and full body.”
You could see the blush decorating his cheeks but his confidence never faltered. However the lingering looks from the closed minded villagers dimmed your own. Their judge mental stares were enough for you to feel yourself shrinking. The other party members took notice quickly. Shadowheart enters your vision and whisks you away before you could dwell on it longer. You were all sat by the fire. On the outskirts of the village. You were listening to Wyll tell a story, well you were half listening. You were still thinking about the events of earlier today and it didn’t go unnoticed by a certain companion of yours. His saccharine eyes were filled with concern as he stared. He knows that you’re going to continue thinking about it all night. And he knows you shouldn’t.
“Come Darling, let’s have a little chat.”
Astarion whispers in your ear and placed a hand on the small of your back, gently pushing you towards his tent. He leans forward to look you in the eyes. His own filled with that same look that you couldn’t decipher. As you look closer you can see that he has some blood left on his lips and teeth. Presumably from his last meal. He quickly noticed your gaze on his mouth and chuckles. It’s deep and throaty. Sending shivers through your body. Warming you from the inside. His eyes glowing in the moonlight. Reminding you of a cat’s or perhaps an owlbear. It looks predatory to those who don’t know how to read his expressions. But to you it’s simply one of interest and curiosity. Before you can think any further you feel his hands squeeze your stomach. Softly kneading as if you were dough. His face lights up at the feeling and he pulls you closer. His hands wander and squeeze throughout your entire body. Hands kneading anything he can reach.
“When I said I love your body love, I meant it. You’re like a deity to me.”
“Really? But I’m-
He cuts you off before you can finish that sentence.
“Chubby? Yes I know darling. But there’s nothing wrong with that. In fact I adore it. I love feeling your body against mine and I especially love the way it looks when you’re naked.”
You scoff at his words but he continues nonetheless.
“And I love it because it’s you. I’d love you no matter what body you have. But I do adore your body. There’s more to grab. And to hold at night.”
You felt his arms tighten around you as he pulls you closer. His hands rubbing circles against your back. Humming softly. You’d probably have the same fear again but you knew he’d squash it.
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7ndipity · 9 months
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"Fuck it"
Yoongi x Reader
Summary: You and Yoongi are friends, but if he wants more than that?
Warnings: swearing, very suggestive, not proofread
A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! Tbh, I wrote this after a couple glasses of wine and got a little carried away(sorry, not sorry?) I hope you like it tho!
Masterlist
Requests are open
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“Would you just scoot over?!”
“Nope.”
“There’s no more room to sit!”
“Not my problem.”
“Yoongi!”
Yoongi might have been your best friend, but god was he a pain in the ass sometimes.
You stood staring down at him as he sat, or rather sprawled, across the tiny wicker bench. You’d both decided to duck out onto the balcony of the release party for one of his members, intending for a few minutes of peace to catch your breath, but as usual, you just ended up bickering.
“If you don’t move, I will sit on you.” You warned him.
“Fine.” He replied, calling your bluff.
Without breaking eye contact, you plopped yourself down on his lap, making sure he felt every bit of your weight.
“Comfy?” You asked, hearing him grunt from the impact.
“Mhm.” He said, unbothered as he hooked his arms around you back so you wouldn’t fall off balance.
In truth, this wasn’t that out of the ordinary for the two of you, much to the surprise of all your other friends. For someone who claimed not to care much for physical contact or skinship, Yoongi always seemed to be willing to grant you an exception, hanging onto your hand in crowded places or sharing seats with you, like now.
You were always the exception for him, though, able to convince him to do things that he can’t say he would do for anyone else.
Over the course of your friendship, you’d come to be each other’s centerpoints in the universe. He’d been your rock when you needed him, coming over when you’d text him late at night, just to sit with you while you cried over some asshole that never even deserved you in the first place. You’d looked after him when he overworked and didn’t take care of himself as much as he should.
You’d toed the line between friends and something more for a while now, but had never pressed further, content with the way things were.
He loved you, though he hadn't said it in quite so many words, and that was enough.
Until it wasn’t, like now as you sat so teasingly close, able to feel your warmth against him, smell your perfume, hear the faint stutter in your breath.
“Your hair’s nice like this.” You mused, toying with dark ends of his overgrown locks, seemingly oblivious to the thoughts circling round in his head as he leaned further into your touch.
It was comfortable, too comfortable, one of his hands having come to rest on your thigh, fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake as they traced back and forth. Every cell in his body was screaming at him to do something, anything, that this was the opportunity he'd been waiting for.
“I can’t do this.” He groaned, pulling away from you suddenly and sitting back.
“What’s wrong?” You looked up at him, eyes wide with confusion.
“I can’t keep sitting here pretending that this is okay, and that I’m…”
He couldn’t look away from you as you stared back at him. And maybe it was the alcohol from earlier clouding his judgement, but he didn’t care anymore, it was now or never.
“Fuck it.”
He leaned in and quickly pressed a kiss to your lips, and then another, and another.
Everything seemed to slow as he pulled back, cautiously gauging your reaction, only to be met by your eyes as clouded over with want as his.
“Why’d you stop?” You whispered.
For half a second, he froze as he stared at you, trying to make sure he heard you correctly and that he wasn’t imagining things. The next second though, he was back on you, connecting his lips to yours with such bruising intensity that you felt like you might actually break.
Your hands scrambled for something to hold onto, finding purchase in his hair again and earning a low noise from him that almost sounded like a purr but shifted into a growl when you giggled against his mouth, causing you to separate.
“What are we doing?” You finally had the clarity of thought to ask.
“I don’t know,” He said, breathing ragged, dragging his hands up your sides. “I just know I can’t stand not having you anymore.”
“Then have me.” You whispered, shivering under his touch as you pressed yourself closer to him.
“Fuck,” He gulped. “Let’s get out of here.”
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writtenfangirl · 1 year
Text
Dancing
A short one this time! I just wanted to write a really fluffy piece without drama although, yes there is a very small conflict if you squint hard enough. I wanted to write another fic that made me feel good just cause life's been extra hard lately.
Although I have a ton of ideas for this one so a sequel if people really enjoy this. I briefly wondered making Y/N be Lady Whistledown and pairing her up with my favorite Bridgerton brother to see what would happen.
TW: People being mean. Gossiping mamas. Cressida Cowper mention.
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The ball, as most balls tended to be as the night waned, had grown stale and boring. The dancing had ceased despite the wonderful string quartet that played their music and people had broken off to their own parties. As the guests become accustomed to the taste of alcohol, words began to flow with reckless abandon. 
“Did you hear? Viscount Dotsfield has a bastard with a scullery maid!”
“The Earl of Blackfield is said to engage in… relationships with Sir Lockling.”
“There are rumors going around that one of the Colton daughters has a French paramour whose name is Ravilli. An ambassador of sorts…”
Gossip is what fueled the ton, the very lifeblood that had men and women of varying ages coming to these balls in the first place. No one in the ton wanted to be caught unaware and one could never be too careful of the rumors that could be fabricated about you. According to Y/N’s mama, the only people who didn’t come to balls and to the gatherings hosted by members of the ton were those of them whose reputations were in ruins. You were either gossiping or you were the one being gossiped about. 
So she came and endured even if she was bored out of her mind. 
It wasn’t anything she wasn’t use to anyway. She was a woman and women were seen and not heard. Not only that, but she was a wallflower. Wallflowers were hardly seen at all.
“Lady Y/L/N.”
She knew that familiar voice, smooth and deep yet somehow still bright. If sunsets could speak, Y/N imagined they would have his voice.
“Mister Bridgerton,” Y/N said as she spun around, hiding her smile behind her bejeweled fan. “I half expected you to have taken your leave by now.”
“Under usual circumstances, I might have. But I have yet to dance with the most beautiful girl in the room.” Benedict said with a crooked smile. “And my mother has always told me that dancing is one of men’s greatest assets to encourage affection.”
“There’s hardly anyone dancing,” Y/N said bashfully.
“All the better reason to do so.”
Y/N wasn’t naive. She knew Benedict was only speaking to her because his mother asked him too. She’d always rather liked Lady Bridgerton and she had a penchant for forcing her sons to dance with the wallflowers. At every ball Y/N attends, her dance card, though usually empty, always had three names: Anthony Bridgerton. Benedict Bridgerton. Colin Bridgerton. 
And there was no man who made he heart beat faster than Benedict Bridgerton himself. Because it was Benedict who offered to fill up all of the other spaces in her dance cards even though he didn’t have to.
All the Bridgerton brothers were kind to her but Benedict was more than that. Anthony and Colin were polite but Benedict laughed with her and conversation flowed between them like water from a fountain. And though she knew Benedict was unlikely to return her feelings, she occasionally let her delusions run wild. She often spent her days imagining what their future would look like. Would their children have his eyes or hers? Their hair would probably be different too. And their noses—
“Y/N?”
Blast! What a bloody idiot! She shouldn’t have let her mind wander like that! And now Benedict was looking at her expectantly with those luminous blue eyes and she couldn’t focus her mind to remember what it is he’d asked of her.
“Yes?” She asked, fighting to stop herself from sounding so breathy.
“Excellent,” Benedict grinned with an outstretched hand. 
The dance. She’d forgotten about the dance!
She briefly wondered if she could find a way out of it. Getting on that dance floor would shift everyone’s focus on to them and she already knew what people would say. 
“The Bridgerton charity case.”
“Of all of the young ladies, he chose her?”
“He deserves better.”
She glanced around nervously. Everyone else was too engrossed in their own conversations to pay them any heed but those conversations would instantly stop the moment she and Benedict stepped on the dance floor alone. 
And she knew that if she were to reject Benedict’s advances, her mother would kill her. Though Anthony was but a Viscount, his fortune was considerable large. His father before him had managed their estate well and Anthony was known to make cunning investments that grew their already large fortune, a fortune that would also provide cushy lives for the rest of his brothers. Perhaps not the large estate of a Duke but certainly nothing to scoff at. And Y/N didn’t doubt for one second that the rest of the Bridgerton brothers weren’t as smart as Anthony was when it came to their finances. 
It’s why Y/N had constantly heard her mother’s say, “you will marry a Duke or a Bridgerton. Anything less is unacceptable.”
Luckily for Y/N, her mother wasn’t around to see her reject Benedict. 
Still, with the way Benedict looked at her, it was hard to say no. 
“Just one dance,” Y/N ceded with a sigh, slipping her gloved hand onto his. 
His smile widened considerably. “You mustn’t be nervous.”
“Easy for you to say,” Y/N huffed. “You look perfect everywhere you go.”
“Oh?”
Damn. Damn damn damn. Damn the world. Damn herself. And damn Benedict Bridgerton. 
“You think I look perfect?” He asked, cocking a brow in question. 
“U-uh, I m-mean, that is to say, I don’t—“
“You truly must calm your nerves, my lady,” Benedict said with a chuckle as he pulled her to her feet and led her to the dance floor. “I am only teasing.” 
Y/N could hear the stream of gossip stop as members of the ton watched them. There was a pregnant pause and then the chatter began once again. She couldn’t hear the full conversations but she heard enough. 
“…fat…”
“…ugly…undeserving…”
“…he is too kind…”
It made Y/N want to curl up into a ball so that the earth may open up and swallow her whole. 
“Pay them no heed,” Benedict muttered as he pulled her close, his hand resting on the small of her back as his other hand found hers. “Focus only on us. And tonight, you look beautiful.”
“Only tonight?” Y/N joked in a bid to ease the coil of tension tightening around her core. 
“Every night.” Benedict’s tone was too serious to be called teasing. 
Soon the new music started, washing away the ton’s horrible words. She could still feel their watchful eyes on her skin, felt the way they judged her. 
“Focus on me,” Benedict muttered before he began their dance by swaying them back and fort.
She let the music fill her, weaving through the muscles in her body. Their dance was a complicated one and though she wasn’t an accomplished dancer by any sense of the word, with Benedict leading it was hard to fail. 
In and out, push and pull, with complicated lifts and turns yet somehow always finding their way back to each other. It was as if their bodies were magnetized, attracted only to the other. As the music swelled, she forgot all about the gossiping ton and their prying eyes. Instead she only felt Benedict’s body heat, the hard chords of muscles hidden beneath his jacket, his hands steady around her waist. 
His gaze on her felt soft, like staring at the afterglow of of dusk. She was never much of a drinker but Benedict always had the ability to make her feel drunk, as though each of her inhibitions left her the moment his luminous blue eyes landed on her. 
When the last notes of the song echoed between them and Y/N and Benedict detached from each other to curtsy and bow at one another, the entire ballroom erupted into applause. 
A soft gasp left Y/N’s lips. She’d completely forgotten about the ton watching them with Benedict commanding all of her attention. 
She raised her head, meeting Benedict’s eyes once more. 
“You were marvelous,” Benedict muttered with a grin as he took her hand and placed a chaste kiss against it before leading her out of dance floor. The ton’s eyes had grown less hostile and more appreciative on and, for the first time in a long time, Y/N felt exhilarated. 
“I would like to call on you tomorrow, Ms. Y/L/N.” Benedict said, letting his voice be carried throughout the ballroom. His words brought on another wave of whispers. “If you would let me?”
Y/N was absolutely sure she would be the center of gossip tomorrow. Perhaps until the end of the season if Benedict’s intentions are what she thought them to be. 
To call on her would mean Benedict would like to get to know her better, to suss out if she would make a good wife or not. And with him a Bridgerton and her a lowly Y/L/N, they would make waves with the ton. She could practically feel Cressida Cowper glaring daggers at her back.
But she didn’t care about that right now. She was still riding the high of their beautiful dance. She was no great beauty, that much was true. But with Benedict, she felt beautiful. And his opinion mattered to her more than the Queen’s and the whole ton’s combined.
“Of course you may call on me, Mr. Bridgerton,” she said graciously, ignoring her fast beating heart. “I’ll have the cook prepare that raspberry marmalade you enjoy so much.”
Benedict grinned. “I am much obliged. I shall see you tomorrow. I hope you have a good evening.” He took her hand again, placing another gentle kiss on her knuckles before he straightened and walked away.
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createdbytragedy · 3 months
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LOVE CHANGES
A/N: This is like the continuation of my previous post Love and So... There's this girl. But it can be read without reading them too. Though I'd like you to check it out and tell me how I do.
Pairing: Lee Minho x reader
Genre: Fluff, crack
Warning: Reader is a well known fashion designer, Han being extremely dramatic,
Synopsis: Its been 6 months since you and Minho dated which means 6 months since Minho has been acting 'suspicious'
It has been too long. Too long since Minho started acting really, really suspicious.
Han occasionally peeked at Minho who sat across from him at the dance studio, smiling at his phone.
Why is he smiling?
Minho had been acting so, so, so weird lately. And Jisung had noticed it since the beginning. He was acting really suspicious.
How?
Well, since when did Minho start to randomly smile at his phone while texting? Since when did he start to wear bracelets? That too, that had a sparkly sun in it. It looked like something he would wear but when Han asked if he could burrow it, he was met with a stern glare and a cold 'no'.
Minho's been too excited to go home these days too. Like, he had something better to do than just lay on his bed and dream about his cats. Whenever the gang decides to eat a takeout and just go home together, Minho would deny and say he had to go home now.
Go home to do what?!
Now, Jisung watched as Minho once again smiled at his phone then started typing. He stood up from his seat and strided towards Minho.
"Who are you texting?" Minho immediately pulled the phone on his chest, like hiding it from him.
"No one. " He answered, the smile he saw just now long gone and he had this serious poker resting bitch face.
"You were smiling." Han stated, eying him suspiciously. Minho raised his brow at his friend's odd behaviour.
"I was?"
"Yes, you were. "
A silence followed after with both party in different reason. Han looked at Minho like he was a puzzle he was trying to solve and Minho looked at Han like he just lost his marbles.
"What's up with you?" Minho asked, trying to fake a laugh to lighten the awkward situation.
Jisung scoffed," What's wrong with me? No. What's wrong with you? "
His tone raised and attracted the attention of the other hyung line present in the room. They gave each other a knowing look and continued minding their own business while keeping their ears wide open.
"You're acting weird. " Han told him.
"How?"
"You're smiling randomly at your phone and you never wear bracelets especially the ones with sparkly sun draped around it!" He looked so serious it almost looked like a couple bickering.
"Can I not just smile at my phone and change my interest?" Minho asked back, getting up to meet Han's eyes. He found all these so ridiculous and amusing.
"No," Jisung shook his head ," you can't. Not you. "
"What are you trying to imply by that, hm?"
"That YOU ARE CHEATING ON ME WITH A REALLY PRETTY WOMAN!!" He screamed, sobbing onto the floor.
Minho's eyes widened at the accusations or rather the fact as all his members looked at them. Eyes wide, jaw dropped. Hyunjin let out a dramatic gasp and he could see Seungmin smirk from the corner of his eyes.
"Lee know, you are what?" Hyunjin asked, clenching his heart. Minho rolled his eyes but shot them wide open when even his hyung joined.
"You're cheating on Hannie with a woman?" Bang Chan asked, eyes wide.
"Why are you emphasizing the woman so much?"
"That means you are dating a woman!!" Felix screeched, pointing an accusing finger to Minho.
And before he knew it, all his members had surrounded him, sitting in a circle and asking him numerous questions.
"Who's the girl? Come on, tell us!" Changbin pleaded, taking Minho's arm and squeezing it like a little girl.
"Is she an idol? Is she pretty? Wait, do we know her?" Felix seemed just as excited as a teenage girl.
"You cheater!" Han scoffed, "is she prettier than me?"
"I can't really imagine you dating a girl or doing anything romantic." Jeongin stated, chuckling dryly. Seungmin agreed, scrunching up his nose while looking at Minho.
"Aish! You guys are so annoying!! Why are you so interested in my love life?! "Minho groaned, shaking Felix and Changbin off his arms.
"Then just tell us her name and her Instagram id and we'll ask her on our own. " Hyunjin suggests, rolling his eyes like it was an obvious thing.
Tch, as if.
"No way in hell you're getting anything of her, Hyunjin. " Minho simply stated.
"Why not??!! Come on....... Show us a picture? Is it true? Did she get you this bracelet?" Felix asked, touching the silver metal wrapped around his wrist. Minho extracted his hand quickly like Felix had a disease or something.
"I'd rather not hear it, to be honest." Seungmin muttered, like anyone was stopping him from walking out the wide open door. But he stayed seated, next to Jeongin.
"Okay, okay, guys, I think you should leave him alone." Bang Chan chimes. A few groans left their mouths. Mostly changbin, Felix and Hyunjin.
"Oh, come one. Don't be such a party pooper. Don't you wanna know who got Minho hyung's heart?" Changbin said, making a heart in his fingers and placing it in front of Minho's chest.
"If you just tell me who the girl is, I'll forgive you. " Jisung added. Minho rolled his eyes.
"I actually do want to know, though." Bang Chan agreed. Minho could only groan now as his only saviour gave him an apologetic yet teasing grin. He let out a sigh of defeat and looked around at his members who looked back at him with eagerness.
"Fine. " He groaned, " I am dating a girl. "
A teasing whistle echoed and Minho felt someone nudging his shoulder. Probably Felix. He didn't care to look. They continued to stare at him like curious kittens so he continued.
"Who is it?"
"(y/n). (Y/n) (L/n)." Minho replied simply.
"Wait, you mean the designer (y/n)?" Hyunjin asked, eyes wide. Minho simply nodded,"are you kidding me?! I'm wearing her autumn collection shirt right now!" He shrieks, pulling his shirt to show everyone the white sweatshirt he wore.
"Seriously?! You're dating her?! For how long?" Changbin asked.
"It's been 6 months, I think. " Minho said, calculating in his mind.
"You've been dating for 6 months and never mentioned her to us?!" Jisung asked, too dramatically for Minho's liking.
"I did mention her all the time. Remember the friend I went to dinner with? The park? The museum?" He rolled his eyes, trying to remind Jisung of the hints he dropped.
"You just said it was a friend . You never mentioned the friend's gender. " Jisung said defensively. Minho rolled his eyes for like the 10th time tonight.
"I can't believe (y/n) would date someone like you. " Seungmin commented, earning a glare from Minho.
"What do you mean by that?"
"Nothing. Just that, she's so...... Cheerful and loud, in a good way of course. And you're just gloomy and boring. " Seungmin nonchalantly added like it was a fact everyone knew. Minho gave him a somewhat offensive side eye.
"Yeah. I've seen her interviews, she's really cute and lively. Like a sunshine!" Felix added, which sparked a lightbulb above Jisung's head.
"Sunshine?! Is that why you have a sunshine bracelet?! Is it a couple's one? Oh my god!!" Jisung's exaggeration made a few laughs and a few rolled their eyes," which one does she have?! A star?! A moon?!"
"A moon. " Minho replied.
"Do you have a picture together?" Jeongin asked, ignoring the shocked Jisung beside him.
"I think so. " Minho said, unlocking his phone to search for a picture of both of you.
"Hate to chime in but are we allowed to date right now?" Seungmin cut in. All of them looked at him with a glare that said 'not now'. But he just shrugged.
"The dating ban is actually lifted for us. " Chan started," but the fan's reaction may not be very pleasant. Plus, she has her own fans. I heard they are quite protective."
"Who knows you might end up bald and jobless like the last guy she had dating scandal with" Seungmin added, snickering like it was the funniest joke he had ever heard.
"Shut up now Seungmin," Hyunjin said, nudging him by the shoulder," Hyung, tell us about her more. "
"Is she the reason you started drinking coffee too?" Jisung once again questioned, earning a nod from Minho.
"I think so," Minho recalled," we actually met at a coffee shop. " "So, love at first sight?" Felix asked, making a heart sign. Minho shook his head and looked straight ahead. Lost in thought. "It wasn't exactly love at first sight but something similar. The first time we spoke, I felt it. An ache, like a little electric burn. I felt my life change. " "Fate, huh. 'Cause what the heck were you doing in a coffee shop if you don't drink one?" Changbin questioned.
"I don't know. I just felt like I had to go there. Something was so alluring. " "Cringe. " Jeongin snarked. "You seem happier, though," Seungmin stated, others nodded along with him," In the last 6 months, you really changed. "
"Yeah, I haven't gotten any threats to be put in the air fryer in a while. " Hyunjin remarked, making the others laugh including Minho. "I can do that now if you want, Hyunjin. " "No, I'm good, actually." "Is no one gonna come to the fact that my husband has been cheating on me for the last 6 months?" Jisung interject. "Well, (Y/n) is actually very similar to you, Hannie. She is, in fact, just like you. She stuffs her face with food and she fall asleep anywhere. She sucks at cooking too. " Minho mentioned. "Are you saying she has all my bad qualities?" "Bad? No way, she's literally perfect. Those are cute qualities. You should've seen your faces when you're passes out on the chair." "It's to die for." Changbin added.
"So, you're not leaving me?" Jisung asked, pouting. "As long as we're in the same group, I'll have to be with you even if I don't wan to. " "So I'm still your baby?" "You were never my baby!"
"Stop it, you guys! It's disgusting," Jeongin coughed," But, we'd like to meet (y/n). " "Yeah, call her here! " Felix exclaimed after he was done listening to all of them. "Yeah, I want her autograph!" Hyunjin added earning some side eyes from others ," what? like you don't have all her summer collection too, Seungmin" "What? shut up!" Seungmin blushed having his secret revealed. "I think I'll ask her. " Minho said. "She really did changed you, huh Minho?" Bang Chan giggled, seeing Minho's cheeks turn red. "OOOOOOOOOOhhhhhhhhhhh~~~~~," Changbin sang," I see someone is blushing, huh~~~~"
The other members upon hearing that, looked at their Hyung with the same teasing smirk and started to tease him. "Minho hyung seemed a lot happier, right?" Jisung said, watching others tease Minho. "Yeah. I can't wait to meet (y/n). She must be so special. " Bang Chan agreed. "I still didn't agreed to sharing him, though. " "WhAT?"
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chaenqen · 8 months
Note
hellooo could i request something like the enhypen members meeting rikis gf for the first time? snd the reader is like a very girly girl iykwim? and the members actually expected a tomboy? thanksss 🫶🫶🫶
that’s my girl
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featuring nishimura riki and reader genre fluff warnings cursing and swearing. a/n sorry for the long wait everyone, i’m kinda busy and really stressed recently but just to let you know, i’m working on your requests from time to time !! forgive me for the inactivity:((
riki and you were together for almost a year now and for your anniversary he wanted to invite you over to the dorm to do a sleepover party with him yet what all of his members didn’t expect was that you weren’t like they imagined you to be…
“hey, i’m yn” you send heeseung and jake a sweet smile as you hold onto rikis hand shyly while the other boys giggle into themselves from the living room. heeseung motions you to come in as jake makes room for you to walk past him so you could enter the living room. “ignore the mess yn, the boys aren’t very good when it comes to keeping their stuff clean and tidy” heeseung scratches the back of his head in an embarrassed way while sunghoon whispers to sunoo and jungwon, eyeing you a few times which riki obviously noticed.
“keep your eyes to yourself sunghoon— she’s mine.” niki glares at sunghoon as warning to show him that he should be careful about how and why he looks at you since you were his pretty and adorable girlfriend after all and not sunghoons or anybody elses.
“hi sunghoon” you give him an adorable smile as you send sunghoon a wave which he returns with a kind smile before niki tugs on your hand to signal you to not do that after he had just basically checked you out. “i just said hello, niki…”
“that’s your girl?” jay looks over at niki with a raised eyebrow as the corner of his lips is raised up in an amused grin. niki sends jay a warning glare as your head lays on your boyfriends lap, peacefully slumbering.
“why, got a problem with that?” he asks with a low voice to not wake you up or disturb his sleeping beauty. the rest of the boys chuckle quietly as niki caresses your hair in a sweet manner, a blanket covering your bottom half since you were wearing a skirt that may lift up accidentally when you move.
“never expected you to be with such an innocent angel, rik” sunghoon chimes in as he puts down a plate of chips on the coffee table in front of the couch before he takes a seat beside sunoo. a smile creeps up onto your boyfriends face as he listens to his friends assumptions and ideas that they had of you, saying that they thought you might have been a tough girl but instead you were the complete opposite of what they made up.
“you two fit together though, don’t take it the wrong way,” sunghoon chuckles once again as he looks at your sleeping figure before looking back at niki.
“she seems sweet, don’t fuck it up, niki.” sunghoon adds with raised eyebrow, giving his younger friend a piece of advice on his new relationship. all niki did was roll his eyes playfully as he mumbles out a quiet “i won’t” while continuing to stroke the strands of hair that fell in front of your eyes behind your ear.
he was so in love with you and the other boys could definitely tell even from miles away. the night passed by really quickly as the boys were just chilling and talking and niki was taking care of you on his lap, making sure you don’t wake up because of the noise his members were making so he carries you to his room, lays you down on his bed and tugs you under the blanket comfortably.
“i love you, baby…”
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<33
@j-wyoung @lacieeeeee00
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dancingbirdie · 8 months
Text
Continuation of my series "The Planets Bend Between Us" where I imagine how Astarion's aversion to intimacy and physical touch lessens as his relationship with Tav progresses.
Read Part 1 here, Part 2 here, and Part 3 here!
Also find the series on Ao3 here.
Comments, reactions, and feedback always appreciated!
The Light In Us Both
Rating: Teen
Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav
Word Count: 1.7K
Warnings/Tags: Tooth-rotting fluff, vampire bites, blood drinking, non-sexual intimacy, no smut
Astarion was nearly convinced that bindings would be necessary to keep Tav still this evening. His lovely little wildling continued to fidget beneath him, giggling under her breath and squirming each time he drew close to her neck in an attempt to feed. 
They had been in the Underdark for over a week now. Viable options for “food” were scarce for him, and so Tav had graciously allowed him to drink from her each night in order to maintain his vigor. 
While she insisted she didn’t mind, that it wasn’t an encumbrance, he couldn’t help but notice the looks of disapproval and worry from other members of their party. It was difficult to ignore. They didn’t dare speak their misgivings aloud, though, for fear of Tav’s fierce rebuke that would inevitably follow. 
Astarion loved the duality of his ferocious little darling. She was hot-tempered, demanding and fiery with nearly everyone and everything she came across. Everyone else in the party treated her as the de facto leader. She had even managed to earn the respect of Lae’zel. 
But with Astarion, she was as harmless as a newborn kitten. She joked with him. Teased. Flirted. She was pliant, like clay in his hands. One knowing look from him, and he could watch as she instantly calmed. He wasn’t sure how he’d come to tame such a hellcat, but it gave him immense pleasure, and pride, to be the only person who could call forth that side of her. Him. Astarion.
But tonight, however, he was just about at his wit’s end with her. Tav could not remain still despite his insistences. He even went so far as to describe the embarrassment they’d both share if they had to wake Shadowheart up at this time of night to repair Tav’s lacerated throat because she couldn’t stop squirming. 
Nothing seemed to work. 
“You know, darling, this little exercise of ours is made much more easy when you hold still,” Astarion whispered, a little exasperated, in her ear. 
Tav giggled. His breath against the shell of her ear tickled. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. I’ll try to behave.”
“Mm, see that you do.” 
He nuzzled at her neck, inhaling her sweet scent, prolonging the temptation of her blood just a moment longer. His hand ghosted up her waist to rest against her lower ribs. He opened his mouth, lips lightly brushing her skin. His fangs were a hair’s breadth away from sinking into her when, suddenly, a fit of laughter bubbled from her between her lips. 
He pulled back to glare at her, squeezing her waist in reproach. At his expression, she broke out in peals of laughter. He made to sit up, obviously affronted, but her hand clutched his nightshirt tighter, preventing him. 
“Tsk. You daft thing,” Astarion rolled his eyes. “Honestly, have the Myconid spores gone to your head?” 
She continued to chuckle. “Astarion, I’m sorry, but I’m ticklish.” 
“I beg your pardon?”
“Your hand. On my ribs. It tickled,” she explained. “I couldn’t help it.” 
“You’ve never had this issue before,” he replied, dubious.
“Because normally you’re holding onto my arm. Or my shoulder,” she quipped, her laughter finally quieting. 
“I see,” he murmured, mulling over her words, his expression thoughtful. 
“I’ve upset you,” Tav responded soberly, finally taking stock of the fact that Astarion hadn’t found the situation nearly as humorous as she had. “I really am sorry. I’ll keep still this time. Promise. Just maybe don’t touch me around the ribs.”
He observed her quietly a moment more. Tav couldn’t decipher what thoughts were percolating behind his expression. But then his lips curved into a sly smile. 
“So, to be clear, what you’re saying is, that if I touch you here,” he began casually, his hand tracing light swirls across her ribs. The skin of her arms and neck immediately broke out into gooseflesh. She mashed her lips together to keep from giggling once more, squirming slightly under Astarion’s touch.
“...it’s especially ticklish for you?” he finished, looking up at her in mock innocence. 
Tav could sense a game was afoot. And she hated losing. Clenching her teeth together, willing herself to keep still, she managed a slight nod. 
“I see,” Astarion said seriously. “And what about if I do this?” he asked before leaning down to blow lightly against the shell of her delicately pointed ear. 
Tav squeezed her eyes shut, trying to focus on anything else besides the urge to laugh and sidle away from him. 
“Oh my,” he intoned. “Seems like that’s dangerous territory as well.”
Tav opened her eyes, taking in the full devilish grin that graced Astarion’s mouth. He was enjoying this. She glared at him.
“All right, all right,” he placated. “But purely for my own edification,” he continued. “Is this off limits as well?” 
And before she could jerk away, he began tickling her outright. Swinging a leg over her hips to pin her down, his hands were everywhere across her ribs, her soft stomach, and under her arms. 
Tav shrieked with laughter, too distracted by Astarion’s onslaught to keep her voice down. Her hands chased his, attempting to grab them, but he was far too quick. She switched tactics then, bucking her hips in an effort to knock him off of her. But, try as she might, he stayed firmly situated atop her. Above the din of her own noise, she made out his own peals of laughter. 
He sounded utterly carefree. Playful. Filled with joy. 
“I give! I give!” she squealed finally. 
“COULD YOU TWO PLEASE KEEP IT DOWN?!” they heard Shadowheart suddenly shout from across the camp. “SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO REST.”
Grumbles of assent from around the camp floated up after her. 
“SORRY,” Tav shouted with equal fervor, grinning like mad at Astarion. “I’LL TRY SUFFERING IN SILENCE IN THE FUTURE.”
“MUCH APPRECIATED,” Shadowheart returned. 
Astarion rolled his eyes and sighed. “Killjoys, all of them.”
Tav chuckled. Still smiling up at him, she raised her hands in mock surrender. 
“You win, Astarion,” she whispered.
He huffed a laugh as he clasped her hands between his. He bent over to kiss the tops of her fingers lovingly before lifting off of her and lying back down at her side. 
“And what should be my reward, for winning so spectacularly?” he returned quietly, resting a palm against her cheek.
Tav turned her face to kiss his palm before arching her neck, giving him a meaningful smile. 
“I promise to hold still this time,” she teased. 
Astarion chuckled, slipping his hand down her cheek, her jaw, her collarbone. He stopped at her shoulder, clutching it lightly. He lifted himself up so that he could position his mouth precisely against the column of her neck. 
But before he bit down, he pressed a kiss against her neck. It was reverent. Worshipful almost. Tav fought back a shiver, holding good on her promise to remain still. 
When his fangs finally sank into her skin, it was with a gentleness far greater than Astarion had ever shown before. Tav felt only the slightest prick of pain before the icy numbness began to spread under her skin. For the first time since she’d agreed to let him feed on her, the act felt like something other than a means to satiate him. It felt akin to the intimacy she had felt when they had been together that first time, in the moonlit forest following their victory party with the tieflings. They were joined together, even if it wasn’t in the same way as then. 
She hummed contentedly as he continued to drink her in. One hand against his scalp, she combed her fingers through his hair with the devotion of a supplicant. Her other arm lifted to wrap around his waist, rubbing his lower back in slow, measured strokes. 
He groaned softly at the feeling of her embrace. Whether she had meant it to be or not, her caresses were a subtle reminder to withdraw before he took too much of her. Extracting his fangs from her neck, Astarion licked softly at the blood welling from the two puncture marks he’d left in her skin. 
Taking her blood was the nearest thing to a religious experience he had ever had. She tasted holy. As if one drop alone could absolve him of all his past sins. 
“Finished already?” she asked. Her vocal cords vibrated against his lips. A delightful thrum. 
“Mm, I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop if I go any longer,” he murmured against her skin. 
She hummed again in acknowledgement. 
“You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever known,” he whispered, planting one last kiss on her neck before rolling off of her. 
“Only for you,” she replied, turning onto her side to face him. She placed her hand gently over his heart. “My star.”
He stilled in surprise. “Wh-what did you call me?”
“My star,” she intoned. Her lips curved into a gentle smile. “That’s what your name means, you know. Star.”
Astarion just stared at her, too shocked to speak. Her words had shaken something loose in the back of his mind. Something from long ago. A memory perhaps. Or a memory of a memory. It was so dusty, it was hard to tell. 
Someone else had called him “my star” once. Her face was blurry in his mind’s eye, but she seemed beautiful. Regal, even. And her voice - it was a faint echo, but it sounded so sincere. 
“I’m sorry.” 
He heard Tav’s voice drawing him back from the recesses of his mind. He blinked once, twice, before refocusing on the woman in his arms. 
“Are you okay?” she asked. “I didn’t mean to upset you by calling you that.”
“No… you didn’t. Not at all,” he assured. “I… I think you caused me to remember something… My… my mother used to call me ‘my star,’ I think.” 
“You remembered your mother?” Tav asked, hopeful.
“Barely. It was like peering through fog. But yes… I think I did,” he paused, reflecting. 
Tav remained silent, giving him time to process what he had recalled. 
Finally after a few moments, he squeezed her waist and grinned. Her breath caught in her throat at his expression. 
It was open. Boyish. Happy. 
Quick as a flash, he leaned forward to press a light kiss against her lips. It was chaste. The kind of kiss a man would give the woman he was courting. It was over before she knew it, but still, it felt wonderful. Like another wall had fallen down around his heart. She felt honored to witness it. 
“Thank you,” he said quietly, clutching her close to him as they settled down to sleep. “Thank you.”
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florencemtrash · 6 months
Text
Wedding Invitations
Miguel O'Hara x Reader
Summary: Y/n and Miguel take the day to distribute wedding invitations to the Spider-Gang. But in the midst of all the congratulations they forget to tell a very important member of the wedding party...
Warnings: Fluff, Spider-Gang family dynamics, Miguel's got a touch of baby fever
Author's Note: I FINALLY got around to writing this Miguel x Reader oneshot that's been in my WIP dump for ages. This can be read on its own, or as a continuation of my Hummingbird series.
Masterlist of Masterlists
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________________________
You blinked around Spidey-HQ, buzzing with excitement and armed with a stack of cream-colored envelopes. The cards within had the following words printed in lacy gold lettering:  
Miguel O’Hara and Y/n L/n Invite you to join their wedding celebration on Saturday, October 15,  2105 at 4:30pm St. Javier’s Cathedral 115 Hammond St
You’d visited Pavitr first, finding him tucked away in an alcove on the top floors where he went about carefully oiling his hair. 
“FINALLY!” He squealed, sprinting away to wash his hands before gingerly accepting the invitation like you’d just handed him a million dollars. “You’re getting married!” He snatched one hand, then the other, splaying your fingers and searching for the ring, “Where is it? Where is it? I want to see it.”
You chuckled, “Calm down, Gollum.” You reached into your shirt, pulling out the chain where you’d been hiding the ring for the past eight months. “I don’t wear it very often. Art teacher and superhero - remember?” 
It was a shame. It was a beautiful, vintage ring originally belonging to Miguel’s mother. He’d since updated it, replacing two of the missing stones with small burgundy gems that matched the color of his eyes. Even if you couldn’t wear it often, you kept it with you at all times, resting against your heart. 
Pavitr began to vibrate with excitement, bouncing on his feet. “Can I-Can I tell-?”
“Yes, you can tell people.” 
“Really?!” He brightened up.
“Yes. Miguel’s probably already sent out a general announcement by now.”
As if on cue both your watches beeped, a red notification popping up.
Announcement:  Y/n and I are getting married. Don’t get upset if you're not invited to the ceremony. There are literally thousands of you. Reception will be at Spidey HQ atrium Saturday, October 15, 2105 at 7pm. All are welcome.
“Perfect timing.” You said, smiling at the words Y/n and I are getting married. You still couldn’t believe it, even though you’d been sitting on the knowledge in silence for the past six months.
“Oh and Pavitr. Miguel will probably ask you this again later but… would you like to be a groomsman in the wedding?” 
Pavitr’s lips trembled, then broke into the widest smile imaginable, brown eyes crinkling. He surged forward, wrapping his lanky arms around you and spinning you around.
“YES! YES! A million times yes!” He gasped. You may as well have gotten on your knees and asked for his hand in marriage. “Oh my goodness this is all I've ever wanted. What are the wedding colors? I need to get a new sherwani.” He finally let you down, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you desperately, “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME ABOUT THIS SOONER?!” 
You gripped his hands, your cheeks aching from how hard you were smiling. Pavitr's energy was unmatched and you could feel his joy rubbing off on you.
“It’s really going to be a simple ceremony. And we didn’t want to pressure any of you with the typical wedding prep stuff.” 
He looked incredulous, “So no bachelorette party? No-no manicure days or spa days or...” 
You shook your head no and his jaw dropped.
“WRONG!” He shouted, touching the tip of your nose with his finger, “Are you free next Saturday night? Yes? Good.” He shook his finger at you, “No wedding prep stuff? Really? Pah!” He threw his hands in the air, muttering as he walked away and started dialing up Gwen and Miles.
“You told Pavitr before you told me?!” Gwen asked, mouth agape. She pushed her lunch tray to the side, the excitement chasing away her appetite for the time being.
“Fuck that. You told Pavitr before you told me?!” Miles slammed the milk carton on the table, spilling a few drops, “I thought I was your favorite.” 
“Piss off, Miles.” Gwen teased, ruffling his curls. "I'm her favorite."
“One semester abroad with Hobie and you’re already sounding like a Brit.” He teased back, never moving far enough apart from her that they weren’t touching. 
She’d recently gone for a shag haircut. The tips of her dyed hair fading into a pale bubblegum blue. The new nose piercing completed the look and Miles was smitten.
You wrung your hands together. “Well I’m telling you now! And! I’m asking you to be part of the wedding party. So what do you say? Wanna be a groomsman and a bridesmaid?”
They didn’t even look at each other before saying, “Absolutely!” In perfect unison.
The rest of the day went similarly, full of excited squeals and hugs and twirls. Everyone at Spidey-HQ - minus some of the newcomers - knew who you were and didn’t hesitate to shout their joy, whooping and calling out across the atrium.
“CONGRATS, TEACH!” 
“LET’S GO! SPIDER-WEDDING!” 
“CONGRATULATIONS!” 
Hobie leaned against the window, hands shoved into the pockets of his patchwork leather jacket and flashing every color of the rainbow. 
He stuck his hand out without a word, a crooked smile on his face, “I don’t believe in state-sanctioned marriage, you know. You and Miguel are already married - have been for ages in my book.”
“You rummaged around in your bag for the last of the invitations, finally locating the envelope that had slipped into one of the inner pockets and out of sight. 
You hesitated, trying to hide your disappointment, “... so does that mean you’re not coming then?”
Hobie quickly snatched the invitation out of your hands, slinging his arm around your shoulder and rubbing the top of your head with his knuckles. You laughed, shoving him away and fixing the tangles he’d made in your hair. 
“Pffft, of course I’m coming. It’s important to you.” He shoved the cream-colored paper into his pockets alongside a couple posters he hadn’t found a proper place to plaster them on yet. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He smirked, “But I hope you’re not expecting me to show up in a suit.” 
“Wear whatever you feel comfortable in.”
“And are you going to ask me to be a groomsman or something? Make a toast at dinner?” There was no contempt in his voice… If anything he seemed expectant. Happy. 
“Actually, Miguel and I were hoping you could be the flower girl with May and Benjy.” 
He brightened up, flashing a sunflower yellow and shooting off curls of newspaper print like fireworks. 
“HA! I like it. I like it.” He pulled his hands out of his pockets, opening his arms wide and sighing like he was giving up on an age-old war, “Alright, get in here, girl. I wanna hug you.” 
You giggled, scrunching up your nose in satisfied glee as Hobie finally gave into his softness. He liked to pretend he was cooler than everyone else in the room - and he usually was - but that didn’t stop him from also being the softest person you’d ever met. 
“Congratulations.” He said, propping his head up on top of your head and mussing up your hair once again.
“Thanks, Hobie.” 
You weren’t alone in spreading the news - Miguel was making his own rounds. Margo was the first one he’d told, by virtue of the fact that she was nearest to his office. 
“Hey, Margo.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. He held out the envelope, Margo’s headpiece peeling away from her sleek cornrows. Her eyes glittered purple, wide open and staring.
“Really?” She asked hesitantly, reaching out for the paper. 
“Of course, Margo. You’re family. We want you there.” 
Her eyes softened and she read through the invitation quietly.
“Y/n was also hoping you’d be a bridesmaid.” He tapped the additional paper sealed in her envelope. “Nothing fancy, but we wanted you at the front with everyone else. Miles, Gwen, Peter B, LEGO P-oof.” 
Miguel huffed as Margo all but rammed into his chest, the edges of her flickering. Who knew virtual reality bodies were so durable and dense.
“Thanks.” She mumbled, trying to keep any emotion out of her voice.
Margo didn’t like to talk about home, preferring the VR life she led with the Spider-Society. They were her real family now… she just liked the confirmation. 
“Anytime, kid.” 
She cleared her throat, pushing him away as quickly as she’d hugged him. “Alright, get out of here. I’m sure everyone wants to see you right now.” She turned around, wiping at her eyes in real life. Her VR body did the same. 
Miguel chuckled, rubbing his neck again. He wasn’t used to the kind of attention he’d been receiving since meeting you and learning to open up again. It was almost as if he was likable when he wasn’t acting like a complete asshole.
He was chased by compliments and congratulations all day, Spider-people stopping him to clap him on the back or to bump shoulders like they knew just how absolutely whipped he was.
Something about announcing your engagement to the world made the whole thing feel more real, like he could taste it as physically as he could taste your lips whenever he kissed you. He didn’t wear his engagement ring very often for the same reasons as you, but he slipped it on his finger halfway through the day, standing a little straighter, and looking a little prouder after doing so. 
LEGO Peter was next and he’d practically swooned when Miguel had handed him his invitation between his thumb and pointer finger. He’d printed an extra-small version for him. Then he’d fainted when Miguel asked him to be a groomsman, his brick body going rigid and toppling back with the same rattle as a teacup saucer.
“I’m taking that as a yes!” Miguel called out, slipping his head back out of the portal into his own universe.
He needed to make a home visit for Jessica, but she had a champagne bottle ready to burst when Miguel appeared into her home in a crackle of color and brushstrokes.
“AHH! HA!” She tossed her head back with glee. Her mane of pitch black hair smelled like coconut and citrus. “CONGRATULATIONS! Malcolm! Malcolm, get your ass in here. Miguel’s arrived.” 
Her husband slid across the living room entrance, a chubby three-year-old boy balanced on his hip and grabbing at his locs. 
“Miguel!” 
“Hey, Malcolm.”
“Mig!” 
“Heyyyy, Jefferson.” Miguel laughed when the little boy grabbed at him, latching onto a strand of brown hair and tugging. 
Jessica clicked her tongue, “Jeff, what have we talked about.”
“Sorry.” The boy apologized, patting Miguel’s head and slapping him in the face in the process. 
“It’s alright, kid.” 
“OOooooh. Get in here, Migs.” Jessica was grinning brighter than the sun, radiating warmth as she wound her arms around his ribs and used her strength to lift him off his feet and shake him like a rag doll.
“Careful, Jess. Can’t break the groom before his wedding.” 
“Pfffft, Miguel’s not made of glass, honey.” 
That much was obvious enough. Miguel had to keep his body crooked to avoid banging his head against the hanging ceiling lights. 
“Congratulations, man.” Malcolm hugged him next, being notably gentler than his wife. He still slapped Miguel’s back hard enough to rattle his shoulders though. 
Miguel stayed for a long while, until him and Jess had made their way through three bottles of champagne just because they could. Their bodies burned through alcohol way too quickly to get drunk - a fact that had disappointed Miles when he went off to college for the first time last year. 
Jess and Malcolm leaned towards one another like sunflowers to light, with little Jefferson splashed across both their knees and struggling to stay awake as the sun pressed against the windows and turned their pale yellow walls golden. 
That would be him someday, with you and your son.
The thought shook him to his core. First, because it was a secret hope that he’d never dared to even dream about and second, because it was now possible. Wonderfully, beautifully possible. 
His heart began to flutter, the absence of you by his side suddenly feeling like a gaping hole instead of a subtle ache. 
Jess seemed to understand that, making a show of looking at the clock and then down at her son’s open mouth drooling against Malcolm’s arm. 
“We should get this little guy to bed.” 
“On it.” 
“I’ll head out then. Thanks for everything, Jess.”
She made a noise with her tongue, brushing off his thanks with a graceful wave of her hand. “Get out of here you big sap. And tell Y/n I said congratulations too! Actually, scratch that. I’m coming in tomorrow so I’ll tell her in person.” 
Miguel chuckled, “Alright then.” 
He gave a final hug to Malcolm and Jessica. Jefferson stirred in his mother’s arms just long enough to babble something that sounded adorably close to, “I’m not… I’m not sleepy. I-” before his eyes rolled back and he slumped onto Jessica’s shoulder. 
You sat curled up in Miguel’s office chair, legs thrown over one of the armrests as you flipped through the pages of your book on the life of Aubrey Vincent Beardsley. Occasionally your eyes would flicker to the array of monitors, watching the careful web of universes as they flickered and morphed. Fluid, but stable, and in a perfect balance of chaos and order. 
Miguel drifted into the room behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and peppering the curve of your neck with kisses.
“Mi amor,” He murmured. You hummed happily, tilting your head further to give him better access. “How is everything going on with you?”
“Better now that you’re here.”
“That’s a pretty great answer.” He chuckled, finishing with a quick kiss to your lips. He came around, lifting you up with ease before sitting down in his chair and placing you in his lap, “And how are things in the Spider-Verse?”  
You made a self-satisfied hmph sound. Thank god he’d finally stopped calling it the Arachno-Humanoid Poly-Multiverse. What a mouthful. 
“Holding strong and steady.” You flicked your fingers to the side, pulling up the latest day report that you’d already handed two hours ago, “B76’s Black Cat and 1805’s Venom were the only anomalies. Done and dusted with no issue. Reports are on file under Project Catalyst.”
“Perfect.” 
Miguel stretched comfortably, curling in on you and resting his head on your chest like the world’s most luxurious cat.
You snorted, blinking your book away with a snap of your fingers and running your fingers through his hair just the way he liked. He groaned softly when you lightly dragged your fingernails against his scalp. 
“Right there, babe.” He encouraged, sighing with contentment. 
You stayed like that for a long while, one of Miguel’s arms wrapped around your waist and his other hand snaking up your stomach to rub circles against your smooth skin. Unbeknownst to you, he was quietly thinking about what it might be like if you ever decided to have kids. If one day he’d be so lucky to lay like this against you and quietly talk to the little child growing in your stomach. 
He shook his head, he was getting ahead of himself.
“Everything ok, Migs?” You curled your finger beneath his chin, gently tilting his face up to look at you. His eyes softened.
“Yeah. Everything’s perfect.” 
You couldn’t help it, you blushed under the softness of his gaze. It was strange how you could get into hundreds of fist-fights, get knocked on your ass dozens of times over, and yet crumble at the sight of his auburn eyes. You didn’t mind the vulnerability though - you knew Miguel felt the same. 
You looked down at his hands, noticing the flash of silver on his finger.
"You wore it today?"
He smiled when you took his hand in yours, kissing his palm, "Felt appropriate."
You tugged the necklace out from under your shirt, carefully slipping the ring off the chain. Miguel took it wordlessly from you, gently kissing your hand before sliding the ring onto your finger. It was warm to the touch after hours pressed against your heart and Miguel felt a surge of love flood his chest seeing you wear it.
“Busy day, huh?” You asked when he settled back down, holding your hand tightly in his.
He groaned, “You could say that. I don’t think I’ve ever had so many people talk to me in my life.” 
You prodded him in the side, “That’s not saying very much.”
“Ouch.” He grinned, kissing your chest. 
“Did everyone say yes to joining the wedding party?”
“Yes. You?”
“Yup.” Your lips popped on the end of the word.
Miguel grinned wide and unabashedly leaning closer to you, “Then we got ourselves a wedding,” he said, smiling against your lips. He tasted like coffee and cinnamon. 
You chuckled, “Maybe we shouldn’t have sprung this on them so soon.”
Miguel shrugged, “We needed to tell them at some point, cariño. And it’s not like we’re doing all the extra stuff. They just need to show up to the church at this point.” 
“I know that. But Pavitr seemed to disagree. Apparently I'm going to have a bachelorette party next weekend.” 
He pouted, “No party for me?! I’m hurt.” 
“Peter didn’t bring it up with you? I thought he'd be over the moon about being Best Man.”
Miguel’s head shot up, thick brows furrowing in confusion beneath a bed of ruffled curls, “I thought you were going to tell Peter.”
You tipped your head to the side, “I thought you were going to tell to Peter?” 
“Yeah, LEGO Peter.” 
Silence, thick and full of horror fell over both of you. 
“Did… did neither of us tell Peter and MJ?” You whispered. 
Miguel closed his eyes, his face plummeting into the soft skin of your chest, “Fuuuuuuuuuck.”
The double doors to Miguel’s office slid open with a groan of disappointment. Peter stood there with his legs splayed, carving out a disgruntled shape in his signature pink bathrobe that he never took off, especially with the new addition to his family. 
Mayday clung to her father’s chest, her brother’s chestnut mop poking out from behind Peter’s shoulder. Benjy’s grin was gummy and wide and he wore matching noise-canceling headphones with his sister.
“Fuck.” You repeated, your face falling flat. 
MJ leaned against the doorway and rubbed her temples with one hand, shoulders shaking with repressed laughter as Peter stalked forward, absolutely livid. 
“You MOTHERFUCK—
*cut scene*
*Alexa, play 'Blitzkrieg Bop' by The Ramones*
____________________
Author's note (again!):
Just some funny gifs I thought were appropriate for the characters:
Peter storming into the room because his best friends forgot to tell him about their engagement:
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Pavitr learning he's going to be part of the wedding party:
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LEGO Peter learning he's going to be part of the wedding party:
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Hope you guys enjoyed!
Love,
Florence B.
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the-snail-that-reads · 4 months
Note
Please ramble about the Au I’m so curious
Well, since you asked so nicely~
(This isn't proof read. Forgive the incoherence)
I've just been calling this Traveling Companions Au. So basically, Odile meets Siffrin way before the events of the story, not long after the whole Island thing. So, when they're about eleven-ish and she's in her 30s.
And now Odile has this child on her hands who
Can barely communicate. (Going off the assumption that Siffrin was already taught some Vaugardian when he was young since the countries were so close)
Remembers nothing about where their from.
And seemingly just showed up out of the mist.
At this point, Odile has already begun traveling the world. So even if she was in the mood to take a random child in (which, she very much isn't) she isn't in any position to give them a stable home. So, she leaves them at the first orphanage she finds and that's that, isn't it?
Of course not. Because Siffrin just. Keeps. Finding her, having latched onto her like a duckling to the first thing it sees. And eventually she just kind of caves and stops trying to get rid of them. She understands what it's like to feel like you don't belong anywhere, after all.
She's not their mother, never tries to be their mother. She probably just calls them her ward until their old enough to reasonably be called a travel companion. Obviously she cares about him. She just. Never tells him how much she cares about him. In direct words.
And yes, while cute kid Siffrin stuff is all well and good. What I really wanna explore with this AU is how it affects the main story.
Sif grows up with a drier sense of humor. Though puns are still a thing. Odile will never be free from the puns.
Siffrin probably? Learns about her whole Familytale quest, but never pries into the context until the Friendship quests arc.
Self-esteem issues are still a thing, just in a different flavor.
He's definitely a lot more comfortable with making fun of Odile than he is in canon. Though it goes both ways. They've got over a decades worth of dirt on each other.
And if Odile was perceptive before, imagine how much easier to read Siffrin is going to be now? She's known them for like 2/3s of their life she's definitely going to notice somethings going on in most of their loops.
Mirabelle and Isabeau get two party members for the price of one in this AU! And with the way Odile and Siffrin behave around each other they assume they've been traveling together for a while.
One day, Mirabelle actually thinks to ask how long they've known each other. And when Odile casually replies, "oh... fourteen years? Fifteen?" She and Isabeau are baffled because ??? Siffrin's in his mid-20s????
At one point, Mirabelle or Isabeau mentions that Odile must be like a mother to Siffrin, and the absolutely disconcerted look Siffrin gives them in response is enough to make them never bring it up ever again.
So yeahhhhhh those are my rambles. Maybe I'll write a fic about this. Maybe I'll just release this into the wild and let people do what they want with it. Who knows?
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dollfacedsl1ut · 8 months
Note
Thoughts about ghostface aespa with sprinkles of g!p ?
!ghostface g!p! Aespa let’s talk about it….. this is the !nice fem popular reader version you can ask for the other one and I’d post it maybe..
a/n : ik there’s gonna be some type of typos AND IM SORRRRY SPARE ME PLEASE
content : murder (shocker), panty stealing, yandere themes, smut, mentions of a fivesome, the jock leaves reader for a rando.., unconsenual recording, reader gets leaked to the jock, groping, sexual corruption??, overall idk what this is you don’t either so yeah..
All members of aespa are in college and had their fair share of people they hated and wanted dead it didn’t matter who you were If you did something that angered them you were on the hit list which rounds up to 95% of the school especially the popular kids (they hated them so much) expect you, to them you were a actual person who didn’t care about luxury brands and cars or about drama / who was fucking who’s boyfriend while they were away to them you had a pure and innocent mind which made this attraction to you grow
It started off with stalking and obsessions to breaking in your dorm whilst you’re in classes maybe if they’re lucky enough you’ll be sleeping they stole various of things from miniature accessories you owned to clothing such as panties and bras..yeah you noticed stuff going missing but you just though you misplaced them or they got lost whilst you took trips to the communal laundry mat…
But one day there was a Halloween college party at a cabin in the woods, everyone was invited so everyone was there, the aespa girls took this as a good opportunity to start their killing spree.. the kill started off good they got rid of the people who would be missed by a minimal amount of people they enjoyed hearing their cries and their begs for forgiveness it just drove them too kill more that night but once you arrived it was like a switch flipped in their brains instead of their murderous mood they were more hyper and eager..
Their eyes scanned over your body looking at the way your costume hugged your curves the coils even see the out line of your panties, if they looked close enough they could tell you weren’t wearing a bra. The happy mood they once had flipped again once they seen who you brung, the jock that had the worse attitude and bullied people who didn’t have the latest car model needless to say they were pissed that you brung him out of everyone else on campus he was the worse guy you could’ve picked and they weren’t happy with you they were gonna make sure you never bring someone who isn’t them to another party..
They watched you and the jock the whole time, every single time you giggled, and felt uncomfortable by his sick jokes, but when he dismissed himself to “piss” they knew it was the perfect time for his death as well, the funny thing was he didn’t have too piss he was fucking another girl in the outdoor bathroom although they wanted to kill him there they wanted to make him feel overwhelmed with emotions so that’s when they finally approached you, you were scrolling on your phone drinking out of a red cup, the conversation was the best one you’ve had in years y’all had so much in common which turned you on although they haven’t showed their faces yet it was a turn on to have things in common it was Giselles idea to go to the bedroom to further explore this attraction..
Once y’all reached the bedroom it just felt like your panties were soaked right that minute the way their hands wondered on your body, the soft touches on your plush thighs, although you’ve never had a fivesome before you wanted to make this work the, sensations of them stretching you out felt so good you’ve never came this fast when you had sex but the way their cock filled you up so nicely you overall had the best experience besides the sounds of camera clicks you weren’t sure if that was your imagination or not you were too horny to be bothered with it, your body was sore and tired after it was finished you just wanted to take a quick nap, Karina and winter being the ones to wash you down and Giselle and ningning getting ready to send the videos and pictures of your sexual encounter with them to the jock,..
After you were sleeping soundly they knew it was time to start their next kill The Jock, after the recordings were sent to the jock they left kisses on your face Giselle might’ve left a slap on your ass and Karina might’ve groped your tits but it’s not like you would care much, the burner phone they used to send the pictures to the jock was ringing with messages angry to ones pleading for you to meet up with him so they did just that, He was pacing around in the back yard with his phone in his hand replaying the video just to hear your soft moans ring in his ears, they could tell he just finished fucking yet another girl and it seemed like you were the next, his pants were unzipped as his cock poked from between the hole in his boxers, They stood in the shadows until they eventually pounced on him ningning pinned his hands to ground as Giselle held down his legs, Karina replayed the sex tape over and over as the jock cried he knew they were the ones that fucked you and slutted you out the video replaying in his head even if the phone was no longer in his vision he couldn’t help it but feel blood rush to his dick watching you get fucked by 4 people at once wishing it was him and his friends fucking you instead, abusing your tight holes then leaving you alone crying and sore but he knew he wouldn’t be able to do that anymore to anyone he felt his body going numb as Karina cut into his chest blood gushing on the grass it just made them smile seeing yet another pathetic person being humbled but he wasn’t the first one they needed this to happened too and he certainly wasn’t gonna be the last..
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staymaniacvillians · 1 month
Text
•°✦Dress✦°•
↬ɴᴀᴋᴀʜᴀʀᴀ ᴄʜᴜᴜʏᴀ // bungo stray dogs
↬𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒔
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"Please come with me" you pleaded
You were asking your boyfriend to accompany you to shop for a dress. The port mafia was organizing a function and you urgently needed a dress for the function by tomorrow. Your friend was unavailable so you had no other choice than to ask your boyfriend, chuuya to accompany you. He didn’t seem too thrilled about it but agreed nonetheless and the two of you left your apartment.
.
.
.
"chuuya, do you like this or this?" you asked while showing him two dresses.
One dress was a wine-coloured, sleeveless dress and the other was a short blue bodycon dress. Chuuya looked up at you from his phone. He thought for a moment before responding, "the wine coloured one"
"okay I'll go try it on"
You walked towards the dressing rooms and pulled Chuuya with you even though he was protesting. The shop was pretty much empty since it was morning. There was no one near the changing rooms so you told Chuuya to wait in front of one of the rooms.
After you put the dress on you turned around to look at yourself in the mirror. The dress looked really good against your skin tone and the wine-coloured dress hugged your curves perfectly. You were still nervous because it's been a while since you last wore a dress like this. It was a little revealing for you.
So you decided to ask Chuuya what he thought about this dress. You peeked outside the room, looking for Chuuya. He seemed busy on a call. Probably one of the mafia members called him.
"chuuya please can you see if this dress is okay?" You called out to him.
He mouthed 'one minute' as he was on a call but you pulled him inside the changing room anyway.
"I told you-" he was about to tell you off but paused when he saw you in the dress. His eyes widened and you could almost swear that there was a hint of blush forming on his face. He was mesmerized.
.
.
.
"chuuya sir are you there?" the voice on the other end asked.
"y-yes uh I'll call you back" he said before quickly hanging up the call.
"Is this fine? do I look bad?" you asked him as he wasn't saying anything. He was just staring at you.
Chuuya was speechless. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times, seemingly lost for words. He took a step towards you and grabbed both of your shoulders tightly.
"you look so fucking beautiful" he finally said and you knew that he meant every single word.
You couldn‘t help but smile widely.
Chuuya stared into your eyes for longer than usual before finally letting go of you.
"Isn't it too revealing?" you ask nervously
"not at all..you look so pretty darling," he said softly and placed a kiss on your forehead.
.
.
.
"chuuya I'm ready let's go" you said stepping into the living room.
Chuuya was drinking some wine while waiting for you. He placed the wine on the counter and walked over towards you.
"you look so stunning" he commented while spinning you around, making you blush.
"aww thanks chuuya, you look handsome too," you told him while admiring your boyfriend's outfit.
He was wearing a white button-down shirt, black blazer, his choker and of course his pretty hat with chain. It suited his sharp personality, his whole outfit made him look very confident and sophisticated. He looked absolutely handsome.
.
.
.
After you reached the venue, you and Chuuya went to your respective group of friends for some time. Chuuya was talking to Lippmann (let's just imagine that the flags are alive) and you were talking to Gin. A few minutes into the party you heard a huge crash coming from behind you. It sounded like someone was flung across the room.
You turned around to see some new mafia member on the floor and Chuuya was standing in front of him. Chuuya held his collar and picked him up. He struggled to free himself and was trying to kick Chuuya away.
"Not again.." you sighed and ran forward and tried to calm Chuuya down.
"stop," you told him but he shook off your grip and hit the guy again.
"Chuuya I said stop!" you yelled at him and he threw the guy back down on the group.
Now everyone's attention was on the three of you. Some people whispered things to each other while others were staring intently. You could feel the tension rising.
You pulled Chuuya outside before he could say anything else. You gave Gin and his other friends an apologetic look. Gin just gave you a small nod and the others simply smiled at you reassuringly.
.
.
You walked outside with Chuuya in silence. The night air felt nice on your warm skin. You breathed deeply to clear your mind before turning to Chuuya. You were a little upset at him.
"Chuuya what the hell was that? You have to learn how to control your temper" You raised your voice a little
"Please shut up," he said frustratedly and kicked a stone on the sidewalk.
His anger wasn't directed at you, but at himself for getting so worked up again.
"chuuya-" he began but he cut you off
"Just shut up" he yelled at you angrily.
This was probably the first time that you’ve heard him shout at you like this. Although he was short-tempered, it was rare that he ever got angry at you. However, he soon regretted yelling at you when he saw your face. He realised he messed up. He wanted to apologize but didn't know what exactly to say. You're mad and rightfully so. You weren't wrong in calling him out like that.
"I'm going home," you said coldly after a long silence.
.
.
.
You were going to leave with gin but Chuuya didn't let you. He felt guilty for yelling at you but didn't know what to say. You weren't talking to him at least not for now. The ride back home was extremely silent with you being more silent than usual. After reaching home you walked to the kitchen counter to get a glass of water. Chuuya followed you inside, locking the main door.
Suddenly you felt two pairs of hands around your waist. It was Chuuya's. He turned you around to face him and pushed you against the counter, his body pressing against yours. You were frozen in place. Your heart was beating so fast. He leaned close to your ear to whisper "Sorry"
Your lips parted slightly and your breath hitched in your throat as Chuuya kissed your neck gently. Your head was spinning and your knees felt weak.
"Sorry," he kept repeating again and again while leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck.
You felt his tongue grazing over your sensitive skin. Your breathing became ragged and you gripped onto his shirt tightly.
"chuuya.." you managed to get out.
He stopped kissing you and moved closer, brushing his nose against yours. His breath mingled with yours and you inhaled sharply in response. You were about to speak again but he silenced you. He pressed his lips firmly against yours and pulled you against him. Your heart started beating faster again, this time it wasn't because of his soft kisses.
His hands went down to your dress as he started pushing it upwards slowly. You could feel his hands sliding underneath the dress and running along your thighs. His hands clenched around your flesh a little tighter. You whimpered quietly at the sudden feeling of his hands on your exposed skin, it sent a shiver through your whole body.
"c-chuuya I'm s-still m-mad at you" you said in between the kisses
"I'm sorry" he pulled away and you stared into his eyes. You could see the regret in his eyes.
"I don’t want you to be upset with me...I promise I will try to control my temper... please...darling I love you so much.." he begged you to forgive him.
"fine.." you smiled and kissed him on the lips.
He lifted you and placed you on the counter. The items on the counter fell onto the ground but you didn't care, you just wanted to feel his warmth on your skin right now. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he pushed your dress up even further.
"you look so pretty princess... but I bet you'll look even prettier with it off" he smirked playfully as he looked at you.
"no, I don't" You felt a blush creep up your cheeks and you buried your head in the crook of his neck. You could feel his chuckle reverberate through his chest.
"hmm..then let me prove it to you," he said and held your chin, making you look at him.
His lips met yours passionately once again. He slowly pulled the straps of your dress down while kissing you. You shivered a bit when the cool air hit your bare skin as you weren't wearing a bra. This type of dress didn't require one. He began trailing kisses down your neck to your chest while saying how much he loved everything about you. You felt so comfortable with him that you forgot everything that happened earlier.
His touch sent waves of pleasure throughout your entire body and you felt yourself melt under him. Your arms had found their way under his shirt, grazing across his abs making him suck in a sharp breath. His hands were resting on your hips as he continued trailing kisses down your chest.
"so pretty" he whispered in your ears while you blushed.
He laid you gently on the counter and kissed you again. Chuuya was lying on top of you and continued to press soft kisses all over your body. His touch was gentle, he seemed to know exactly where to kiss and what to do. Your heart beat rapidly when he kissed your lower abdomen. He continued making his way down your stomach and slowly slid the dress off, letting it drop down to the floor.
He traced his fingers over your thigh lightly. His touches were so soft and loving that your body was shaking from pleasure. Chuuya's hand slowly inched its way up and he started kissing the inside of your thighs. Your whole body was trembling from ecstasy.
"c-chuuya i-i..." you moaned, unable to form any words.
"Shhh..just relax princess" he whispered against your skin.
You closed your eyes as he took the last of the garment. His kisses had grown gentler now and his fingertips grazed your sensitive spot. You couldn't keep your hands still anymore, you were gripping onto the kitchen counter for dear life.
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fourmoony · 6 months
Note
I had an idea that is a little specific and it's okay if you don't want to write it. English is not my first language and I come from a big family that likes to talk loudly/likes to party, but I am introverted. I imagined what it would be like for the reader to date James and they are going to spend time with her family, and he sees the reader in her comfort zone (speaking in her first language and with her family) and just discussing silly things (like rules of some game) and it's all very loud and funny. He sees how you make people laugh and even though he doesn't understand anything he has a smile on his face and admires you for getting to know this new side of you even though you’ve been dating for a while
I love your writing and your work is amazing ❤️
thank you for requesting lovely! and thank you so much for your kind words <3
james x f!reader | 720 | masterlist
You're in your element, James thinks.
He's seen you at your happiest, sure. He's seen you necking pints with Sirius and discussing books with Remus, he's seen the aftermath of girl's night with Lily, Marlene, Mary, and Dorcas. He's seen you laugh until your ribs hurt, commandeer your friends into playing your silly drinking games, dancing on tables, singing your heart out. You're a bubbly person, so obviously he's seen a handful of your happiest moments. But James doesn't think he's ever seen you in your element, at your most comfortable, your safest.
There's no hesitation in the way you speak to the group of your family members who are placed haphazardly around your mother's small kitchen. Even though he doesn't understand a lot of what you're saying, James can tell there's humour and wit, love and chagrin, and a little bit of sass to whatever it is you're saying. The conversation is moving too fast for him to pick up anything, because he's been learning small phrases here and there - it's important to him, and it makes you go all soft and gooey when he surprises you with a new phrase or loving comment. You're standing in the middle of the room, pointing at an older cousin of yours, an accusing look in your eye, but you're trying not to laugh.
It doesn't help that there seems to be eight other conversations happening at once, and James wonders how on earth your family ever get anything accomplished. You've been trying to organise a game of drunk UNO for the last fifteen minutes, but from what James has picked up on, no one can agree on house rules or game rules.
Your mother seems to be talking at you, fast and filled with love and humour and you're listening, but you're still talking at your older cousin, pointing at various people as you go, none of whom are listening, but are involved in their own, loud conversations.
If you weren't in the centre of all this, James would feel overwhelmed. Your family is loud and big and they don't seem to know what inside voices are. But it makes the final puzzle piece of you make sense. James understands, now, why you're always so willing to spend time with his overly large friend group, why you never hesitated or got nervous when you met him. You were born into this, and you handle it well.
He thinks you're beautiful every day, but right now you're ethereal. You're happy and comfortable and loud and obnoxious and James is pretty sure he's in love with you. The way you hold yourself, the way your words come from your mouth, fast and practiced and so fucking hot, it's all too much for James. He feels entranced by you, like you're some sort of sorcerer.
You return a few moments later, to his side, a happy smile on your face as everyone also collectively joins the table. James smiles bright when you press your lips to his cheek, rubbing your lipstick with your thumb. For a family who pick up on everything, James is surprised no one comments on your affection.
"Sorry," You murmur as you deal James his hand of UNO cards, "They can be a lot sometimes."
Your aunt - James thinks it's your aunt, anyway - yells at your youngest cousin, pointing here and there but he really cannot make out what he might be getting into trouble for. Eight conversations are happening around James as you deal the rest of the cards, there's people everywhere, but James wouldn't want to be anywhere else.
"Not at all," He assures you, a gentle hand on your thigh, "Seeing you in your comfort zone, so happy - I think? You were yelling a lot - makes me happy."
You huff a laugh, "He wouldn't admit that he cheats at UNO."
You give a disdainful look to your older cousin, who gives you a finger in return. You share a laugh with him after.
"You cheat at UNO." James reminds you, and while he wasn't aware the entire table was capable of having their own conversations and listening to his at the same time, he shouldn't be surprised.
Everyone erupts into chaos, and James knows he's in for it when he gets home.
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petit-etoile · 7 months
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open  up  your  heart  (stay  soft)
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pairing: astarion/tav wordcount: 3,626 content warnings: an extremely complicated look at astarion & a dark urge!tav. there are dom/sub undertones, s&m undertones, astarion doesn't want to be touched but he doesn't mind touching, and probably undernegotiated kink. this is self-indulgent in all honestly, i'm so sorry. originally intended to be part of basorexia. other tags: canon compliant, porn without plot, pwp, established relationship, dom/sub undertones, light masochism, frottage, blood drinking, codependency, gender neutral tav inspired by: this post. archiveofourown: here.
tag list: @azrielshadows1nger, @pandimoostuff, @faevi, @microskies, @foreverthemaraudersera, @queenofthespacesquids, @claryvoyantfray, @6doodlaang14, @anne-isnotokay, @itshimbotime, @yeeteth-the-raven, @sessils,@8-opossums, @worryknotdear, @abirdaboxandachippedcup, @ghosts-and-ink, @b4um3pfl4um3, @gunslingerorchid, @hypopxia,  @m0ssytrees, @erysione, @odette-attackattack, @catching-fire-in-the-wind, @ashrio20, @wills-mental-illness be added to the taglist here
summary:  ‘Astarion. Do you want a drink?’  /  ‘More than anything,’ he whispers.
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‘Please…’
Astarion is on his hands and knees, cerise gaze wild, one hand clutching his chest as though he’s afraid his heart will escape through his ribs. His other hand is reaching for you. It makes you wonder about the power he has given to you to hold over him. You’re afraid to ask what it means. If you’re his favorite, or if you are close and near and he is desperate.
The anguish Astarion wears on his face is mesmerizing. You reach out your hand and cradle his tense face in your palm, smoothing your thumb over the sharp curve of his cheekbone. Astarion leans his face into your touch. He scents the curve of your wrist and bites back a sharp moan. His pink tongue darts out between his teeth.
It’s easy to pretend not to understand what type of situation you’ve gotten yourself into. It’s a moment of shared vulnerability between the two of you. A play in two parts: Act I follows a concerned vampire as he worries endlessly about corrupting a pure soul, and Act II follows the mad descent he leads the soul on until the very depths of the hells are explored. Act III is when the depravity is embraced. Astarion likes to pretend otherwise, but he adores worrying over you. It’s a habit that he can’t shake now that he’s picked it up. He watches you and holds his breath, lips parted.
You see: It’s a game. A very careful, very orchestrated game.
Part of this is very healing for Astarion. In the same way it gives you power, it also gives him power  —  Cazador would have never given him the blood that he so desperately craves, but you will. You hold your hand out and Astarion places his chin into your palm, eyes fluttering shut at the tender touch. Your heart threatens to break.
What a beautiful man he is now on his hands and knees for you, and unlike those who came before you, you have no desire to hurt him. No, you think. You join him in the dirt on your knees and brush your fingers beneath his chin akin to how one would pet a cat. Astarion purrs and offers you his pout in exchange for a kiss.
Instead of indulging him, you take the hand he once offered you and place his fingers against your pulse as it jumps beneath your skin. Astarion’s pupils tighten. His mouth presses into a firm line. It might be your imagination, but his skin pinkens prettily for you.
‘Do you want a drink?’ you ask softly.
‘Please,’ he whimpers. ‘Just a taste. Only a drop.’
‘Only a little?’ you hum.
It’s the hour of the wolf and Astarion’s favorite time to prowl. You can pretend to be in control as much as you like, but you know the truth. All it would take is one mistake, and Astarion could easily devour you and drain you dry without another thought. He’s dangerous despite how you hate to admit it.
But that’s where the other’s usually forget. All your warnings, all your revelations, and the other members of your party see you as naught but who you claim to be. They are willfully ignorant of your dark nature. Astarion compliments it.
In some macabre way, tonight is a test. Will you kill Astarion, or will he kill you? If you were prone to betting, you would say that you would win. Your skill as the Blood of Baldur’s Gate is not to be taken lightly, but a vampire spawn who is hungry could easily overtake you.
If you wanted him to.
You swallow very carefully. You do want him to. It’s no romanticized obsession, but a simple longing that won’t go away no matter how hard you try. You think about it absentmindedly sometimes when you’ve done nothing but walk for miles upon miles.
Would your eyes turn red? Would the color be drained from your skin as your ichor was stolen? Would you look pretty as a vampire, carefully playing the part of a damsel at night? It would be a good disguise…but you don’t want it to be a disguise. You want it to be a reality, and that terrifies you.
You want Astarion. You need Astarion like air, like water. He’s the only thing keeping you grounded in this mess. He’s witty, cruel, rude  —  but you find that it helps you focus more than anyone else’s steadfast desire to be cured.  Like Astarion, you don’t want to be cured. The tadpole is the one thing holding that murderous urge at bay even as unsuccessful as it seems.
You watch Astarion’s mouth. You study the way his lips tremble, how the muscle beneath his bottom lip tenses as he struggles to contain himself. Still, he does his best to make sure his expressions don’t betray his intentions. He doesn’t want you to know that he’s wondering the same thing. He eyes your throat hungrily. His nails drag across your pulse like a threat. He shakes.
Astarion won’t hurt you. You’re almost certain of it. Even as the nail of his thumb digs into your pulse, you know that he is pretending to struggle for your sake. His perceived lack of control excites you.
It entices you. His bravado is exhilarating. You like that he is playing it up for your sake. It reminds you of the night he first bit you and every night after that, but this is a ceremony unprecedented by the nights before. With the slightest pressure, Astarion tilts your chin back and watches.
You repeat yourself. ‘Astarion. Do you want a drink?’
‘More than anything,’ he whispers.
Astarion caters towards a façade he knows you enjoy. He’s petulant, pouty, and his eyebrows are drawn so tightly together that he reminds you of a stray beast. You look at his mouth again. He’s unable to hide the way his mouth waters. He moves his tongue behind his teeth almost as if they pain him, as if his teeth themselves are swollen. Drool catches on his plump lip.
‘Astarion  —  ’
‘Please,’ he says, voice low. He caves to your whims. ‘Like before, a taste, a sip, a drink. I’ve been good, I promise.’ He licks his lip. ‘I’m always good, now.’
‘You have,’ you say. ‘You’ve been very good.’
‘So I should get to drink,’ Astarion suggests.
You close your eyes and pretend to consider it. The thought of Cazador denying Astarion anything sickens you, and you try your best not to grind your teeth. This is a show, you have to remind yourself. A play. This is not about you, but about Astarion. You’ll acquiesce but you would be lying if you said you weren’t interested in seeing how far Astarion would allow you to push him.
‘I don’t believe you,’ you laugh. He squeezes your neck involuntarily.
‘I’m on my best behavior,’ Astarion insists. ‘I’ll show you, in exchange for a taste.’
‘A small taste,’ you allow. ‘A drop.’
Without thinking, Astarion pets your neck. He uses both hands to trace elegant lines along your throat. He scratches his nails across the line of your jaw without drawing blood. You want to kiss him, or to bite him, or to seek pleasure but now is not the time. Astarion is letting you in. He’s allowing you ever so politely to heal him.
If you call it healing, Astarion will bare his fangs and dismiss you. He wants to call it exploration. He finds your weaknesses, and you destroy his. It’s a good enough deal in your eyes. You kiss, you laugh, you dance together, and in the dark beneath a full moon, you search for answers.
You pull Astarion to you, your fingers fisted into the curls of his hair. You lead his mouth to the pulse in your neck and squeeze your thighs together, trying to ignore how unsteady you feel. Even though it’s pretend, Astarion’s weakness makes you warm at the core.
‘Thank you,’ Astarion whispers. He swallows hard.
He kisses your pulse wetly. He sinks his teeth into your neck with ease, and you play up the way you twist and shiver, groaning softly as if the sting of his fangs isn’t a familiar, welcome pain. He drinks a single drop as promised and leans back.
There is a thinness to the control Astarion shows you. He doesn’t have the confidence to pull too far away from you, and his eyes don’t leave the puncture wounds at your jaw. He wraps an arm around your waist and swallows sharply, turning his cheek the other way as if ashamed of how debauched you make him.
‘Good,’ you whisper. ‘You really are being good.’
‘So I can have more?’ Astarion asks.
‘What do you say when you want something?’
‘Please,’ Astarion says hoarsely.
Very carefully, you guide Astarion’s mouth back to the puncture wounds. This is something entirely new for him. A control that is both welcome and curious. He laps at your neck carefully, huffing out little noises against your skin as he collects droplets of your blood on the tip of his tongue. He takes his time in tasting you, in becoming mesmerized by the taste your life’s blood has to offer. Now Astarion knows that when he asks for something, you have very little ability to tell him no.
Not when he’s like this. Not when he’s being good.
Astarion being “good” almost sounds like a conundrum. Earlier today he was advocating for avoiding duties that could be seen as kindness. Now, you’re almost certain you could ask him for his help in anything and he would oblige. Not only has he found the freedom to feed whenever, he’s found the freedom in asking you. He had hesitated before, choosing to feast upon bad men. But even the good deserve their sins.
Not that it genuinely takes much to get you to agree to anything Astarion asks. As much sway as you hold over him, he holds over you. That’s why when he overstays and takes more blood than you wanted to let him, you say nothing.
You close your eyes. You shouldn’t, but something about Astarion’s bite always causes your mind to fog up until you can’t think of anything else. There’s no more draw to do something unseemly to one of your other companions. You don’t think you smell blood on your hands. You’re allowed to exist outside that ravenous bloodlust.
‘Enough,’ you tell Astarion.
He whines against your neck.
You can already imagine the excuses. I’m sorry, I lost focus, I was so thirsty, you really do have to forgive me, and if it were any other day, you’d swallow up his apologies as though they were lyrics to a song. You have to remind yourself: Today is not about you. Astarion asked you for this. You hum disappointedly and Astarion slinks away from your neck guiltily.
Except he doesn’t feel that guilty about it. His eyes are twinkling like they haven’t in hours. The more Astarion feeds on your blood, the more color that pools into his cheekbones and the tips of his ears. There is drool and blood mixed on his chin, and he doesn’t wipe it off. He offers you his chin and you take it, and carefully, you clean his face for him and wipe it on your camp clothes. The mess is a problem for another day. Astarion shamelessly stares at your neck instead of your eyes.
As if he’s practiced being pathetic for you, Astarion whines. He leans forward without permission and tries to sip at your neck again, but you catch him just in time. The refusal causes him to fuss and toss around on the dirt, crawling to you because he can’t help himself. He catches your fingers and pulls the mess you couldn’t clean to his lips, lapping at the spaces between your fingers for another taste of you.
‘If you want something,’ you say breathlessly, ‘how do we ask for it?’
‘I want your blood,’ Astarion says bluntly, eyes burning in the moonlight. ‘Please  —  Please let me have it. I could drink yours for hours.’
Gods be good. You steel yourself against his pretty words and shake your head. If you were to speak, your voice would betray how disgustingly turned on you are. Astarion knows it too. He always does. Behind the desire for your blood in his eyes is his desire to take you in fully. Your whims interest him because he’s never experienced them. Once, he said most fled once the fangs were in, but you kept coming back for more.
Your interests. His interests. Tonight is not an exchange of blood for sex or sex for blood. Astarion takes charge of his destiny, and you follow in his footsteps. Tonight is an exchange for power and safety. Only when he’s ready will you acknowledge your own hunger.
And thank the gods he does not make you wait for long. Astarion slips a hand between your thighs and presses his palm against where you’re the most tense with such confidence and precision your positions are almost flipped. Astarion has heard you beg many times. It’s almost his favorite pastime beyond hunting. You won’t do it tonight.
‘Drink,’ you command him.
His pout vanishes immediately. There is no careful, organized action behind how he pounces on you this time. He knocks you into the grass and bites you on the opposite side of where he bit you before as if to prove a point. His arms snake around you, one hand cradling your head to keep it from thrashing against the ground, and the other around your waist so you’re forced to arch your back for him.
Astarion drinks as though he’s never tasted blood before. It’s not the first time you’ve thought about it. Every time he presses his mouth to your skin, it’s like a sinner turning to prayer. You are not a saint nor an idol of perfect disposition. You are what the gods fear most. Yet when Astarion feeds from you so voraciously but holds you so tenderly, you feel like a delicate treasure.
He eats you. Mind, body, soul. He takes away your bad blood and casts it out like a venom. You shiver despite your best attempts to maintain a rigid figure. Astarion moans against your neck. When you least expect it, he presses a thigh between your legs and grunts encouragingly. He won’t use his words. Not when there’s drink to be wasted. With the last of your conscious thoughts, you push your fingers through his curls.
Astarion tempers your masochistic streak by being the one person in the world who can truly sate it. A vampire’s bite is never comfortable, and the chill of his body is never enough to dull the pain. Sometimes you’re able to sleep through it, when he’s being as gentle, as careful as he can.
He is rough with you this evening because it’s what you need. You choke out a weak cry as you begin rutting against his leg, and although your cheeks burn with shame, it’s the best thing you’ve done all week besides sleep in a real bed. Astarion feeds from you and you grind against him, drunk on the balance of interests.
This is what you were missing in Baldur’s Gate.
Astarion is free to ask for the things he wants without fear of penalty.
You can chase punishment.
Astarion rolls his hips against yours to help distract you from the power of his bite. It’s hard to focus when you can feel his tongue lapping at your pulse and your core feels so tight and hot that you can barely think beyond how much you want him. You try to look for the stars to ground yourself, but the only stars you can see are the stars dancing in your vision.
‘Astarion,’ you whisper.
He growls in response. The sound is begrudging. He wants to do good and pull away, to show you that he knows how to be good, but it’s another one of his tests. The first night, you almost succumbed to him because you were too distracted by blood loss to be of any use. Astarion wants you to know your limits as well. You gasp and turn your cheek. It’s so hard to focus…
‘Astarion,’ you hear yourself say, ‘that’s enough. You’ve had your fill.’
Finally, he pulls away from your neck. He’s ravishing. Astarion carries a pride to himself, an assurance, that you might not have seen from him if you weren’t so intent on helping him stand up on his own two feet. He licks your blood from his lips and slowly cleans the mess left on lips and cheeks, funneling what’s left into his mouth so that he can taste you for the rest of the evening. Your eyes flutter shut at the sight and that’s when you lose focus.
Astarion’s thigh is soft between your legs. You shamelessly grind against him. You feel weak, and you know you’re pallid and sweaty and boneless, and Astarion only makes it worse. Once he’s finished licking clean his fingers, he grabs you by the hips and helps you ride out your intent on his thigh. He leans over you.
‘Watch,’ you whisper.
‘Is that a command?’
‘Yes.’
Astarion smiles wickedly. ‘And what am I watching, my darling?’
‘I want you to watch as I cum,’ you say unashamedly.
You notice it again. How your words affect him. Astarion’s pupils tighten a bit more and he truly devotes his attention to you, watching as you writhe your hips against his leg, back arched off the dirt and sticks and rock. You must be an absolute sight to behold as you bleed and chase your pleasure, but all you can think about is his face right now as he watches like you told him to.
You cry wordlessly and try not to twist away out of habit.
It’s so hard to focus, to breathe. You feel like you’re running out of time with how dizzy you’re becoming, and Astarion helps you through it so that you can fuck yourself until you find relief. You can feel a knot forming in your lower back, Your thighs and calves are burning, and your throat is so hot and warm you can’t stop from moaning.
When you do find it, that senseless pleasure so deep in your core, you’re almost certain you pass out for a few minutes. You cut off the sound of your own orgasm by clenching your teeth together and stiffening, but Astarion is there to murmur encouraging things as you navigate whatever is left of your consciousness. It’s so hard to think, to be, to exist. But it’s worth it when you open your eyes and you’re met with the softest look Astarion has ever given you.
‘You did amazing,’ you say breathlessly.
Astarion laughs, not meanly or cruelly, but a sound full of reverence. ‘I did amazing?’ he asks. ‘Look at you, my love.’
Whatever it was that Astarion wanted to work through, he seems to have managed it. He rubs your sides soothingly as you try to cool down and warm up at the same time. Your hair is beginning to curl against your skin from how much you’ve sweated and how much blood you’ve lost. Even though it’s not as much as you would in battle, you still can’t help but curl up on your side and press a hand against your forehead, desperate for some clarity.
‘There you are, my precious little love,’ Astarion soothes sweetly. He kisses your temple.
‘Did I help you?’ you ask sleepily.
He doesn’t respond at first, and you don’t have the strength to look over your shoulder to try and see what he’s thinking about. He rubs a circle into your lower back. Your stomach begins to feel a little funny, like it’s filled to the brim with butterflies.
You welcome the silence. You doze off for a few minutes, comforted by the weight of his hand against your back. Your mind has never felt so empty before. There’s always a dull roar, and now… You press your fingers to your lips to hide your smile.
‘Once again,’ Astarion begins delicately, ‘I feel like you’ve given me something I can never fully thank you for. I am not so afraid now as I was before. That’s because of you.’
‘And because of yourself,’ you mumble. ‘You ought to give yourself credit. This was but a small test, and you passed.’
Astarion’s mouth pops open like he’s contemplating arguing, but he decides against it. You feel him lie down next to you, his chest to your back, his hips to your hips, his knees against your knees. Normally, you hold him like this —  It’s a comfortable way to sleep, and you like being able to smell his skin.
‘How do you feel?’ Astarion asks you quietly.
Now it’s your turn to contemplate the severity of things. You don’t know how to address it, not when he’s sucked your brains through your skin and helped you fuck the rest of them out of your system. You rub an eye tiredly.
‘My mind is empty,’ you admit, ‘for the first time since I woke up aboard the ship.’Astarion hums like he’s conquered the world and peppers the nape of your neck in a thousand little kisses. You help him, he helps you. It isn’t a perfect system, but it’s your system. I love you dances on the tip of your tongue, and you’re almost to a dream when you hear Astarion say it back.
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