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#anyway i just wasted the last ten minutes of my study time so now it's break time!!
boomerang109 · 6 months
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I'm supposed to still be doing homework but I wanted to pause really quickly because I really think I might be getting better
I hit a wall last week (and hella actually really helped me, but I had to ignore her advice for a few days to see it) where I just kind of realized I don't actually do much to make myself feel better? And like. I want to be so specific that like. I'm feeling physically better these days so it's so much easier (not easy, mind you--I'm still in pain AND mental health is still making it hard, but it's easier)
But like I just had like three days in a row where I just tried to do homework in bed and instead I did NOTHING and I basically talked to no one and I was just making myself miserable and I was like. It's the end of the semester and at this point it's my fault I have so much work. So I need to make a different choice and do it. So I have?
And I spent HOURS doing work yesterday. And it wasn't perfect--I meant to go to an aquaintance's show and I didn't make it, but I did a bunch of work and got some late assignments turned in. And I'm still working today and it's fucking slow going. I thought I was gonna get through two modules (I don't call them that, god hella you've infected my brain) but I still have ten pages left of enlightened sexism (but my focus is a little shot at this point in the day. BECAUSE I SUDDENLY HAVE ENERGY?? like i'm gonna go put my laundry in and like. idk maybe even walk around a bit because i have energy. like not a lot. but for nearly 8pm at night? It's crazy.)
I just. I hope this is the iron and the medication change. Because I've been having such a rough go of it. But I think some of it has been me. I think I got really good at being sick and treating myself like I was sick and I'm not anymore.
Cause like when I was sick I let myself get away with all sorts of bullshit cause 'oh I can't, I don't feel well.'
But I'm getting better. So that means putting on my big person pants and doing shit. Even when it's hard.
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thefanficmonster · 2 months
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please please please write something for Mickey altieri I love him sm
You know I love Mr. Altieri and I'm always happy to write for him 😉 Hope you enjoy this set of headcanons darling 💕
~ Lots of love, Vy 💌
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Mickey Altieri having a crush on you in college would include:
You told yourself you wouldn't date in college - for many reasons
Obviously, piles of schoolwork and many hours of studying awaited you and you couldn't imagine yourself forfeiting your future and neglecting all that work for a significant other
But also the upcoming four years are exactly the years meant for being wild and you couldn't afford missing out on any of that due to a commitment to another person
But at this point life had rudely taught you that things rarely go as you hope and plan them to
One of the variables you didn't factor into your planning was Mickey fucking Altieri
The sleek bastard
You'd caught his eye from day one - orientation day, to be exact
He was very fond to see you in his film class and with a bit of asking around he found out you too are a film major
He wasted no time pulling out every flirting trick he can ever remember working on you
All to be dismissed and rejected each and every time
But he's a persistent man, well aware of his charm and charisma
"I'm not your type, I get it. How about we start over? Friends?"
"In your dreams, Altieri." You roll your eyes at his poorly disguised attempt at poking through your guard
"How come you know my last name?"
Your eyes widen before you can stop them
You've just exposed your own snooping agenda
You'd be lying if you said you didn't conduct your own research on this man
Sure, he's attractive, fun to be around, charismatic - magnetic, almost
And, contrary to his claim, just your type
But you refuse to give in
That is until you realize that giving him a chance doesn't automatically mean establishing a relationship
Rather a dynamic
One with the potential to be quite fun and exciting at best
Interesting and eventful at worst
So, when he tries one more time, offering you nothing more than his company to a sorority party
You shock him by agreeing, retorting with a time at which you required him to pick you up from your dorm building
And pick you up he does
You roll your eyes at the corny gesture of a bouquet - or the sorry excuse for one he'd picked up on his way across campus
Still, you can't help but find it endearing
"I knew you'd like me eventually" he is getting cocky, reaching even, but as long as he's able to get a laugh out of you he's satisfied
"Don't hold your breath. I just wanted to go to a party."
"Yeah but you could've gone with anyone else. Just admit you like me, hell won't freeze over."
You narrow your eyes at him a part of you regretting the decision to accept his offer while another corner of your brain is looking forward to the evening the two of you are about to have
"Over my dead body"
Little do you know, he could easily get that arranged
But he'd never do that, not to you anyway
"Ten bucks says they disappear to make out an hour into the party." Hallie says, peering over at Sidney as the two observe their friend meet up for something they adamantly claimed wasn't a date
"You're on." Sid agrees, both girls giggling as they get back to getting ready for the party
A party you and Mickey disappear from about forty-five minutes in, earning Hallie ten dollars
The rest is history - history filled with Mickey poking fun at how quickly your resolve crumbled
Because now, four months later, you're celebrating three months of officially dating
This is one of those rare occasions when life works out a lot better than you'd originally planned it
Some things are better off unplanned
The best things in life come as a surprise, after all
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anzynai · 1 month
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Study Break!
Riddle & Ace & Chenya (TWST)
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a/n: WOOOO another twst fic done! and its lee riddle!! surprisingly enough, i actually got a lot of lee riddle requests (which i dont blame u nom nom) so im planning to write those requests in the future. still, here i combined two of them so i hope u dont mind! this was actually meant to be posted much sooner but well.. got sidetracked. plus, i wanted to write another fic before i posted this one. (that did not happen) ANYWAY, enjoy!
summary: when ace is forced to study with riddle, he finds that things may not be so bad after-all when a friend of riddle’s comes to visit!
word count: 1.5k
——
“Urghhh..” Ace groaned to himself. “This sucks..” Slouching over his papers, he wanted nothing more than to just go back to his room and sleep for ten years.
See, it was his fault, wasn’t it? That he had to waste three hours of his day on schoolwork instead of doing literally anything else. It’s true that he did get a.. well, less than favorable score on his test, but no! What he blamed himself on was the fact he had accidentally let Riddle see it!
And now, he was here, in the Heartslabyul Lounge, textbooks as far as the eye can see (or really, only covering the table) and Riddle drilling lesson after lesson into his brain. He was sure that if he stayed there a second longer, his brain would quite literally melt.
He hated that Riddle was actually a really good tutor. This wasn’t Ace’s first time getting a tutoring session with the Housewarden, despite the other’s busy schedule. But.. he had to be in the mood to study, you know?
“Do you get it, Ace? This is important,” Riddle asked, causing another groan to pass through the freshman’s lips.
“Yes… but..” He said, knowing full well that he hadn't been listening to Riddle for the past five minutes. “Can’t we just take a small break?”
“Not when you haven’t been listening to me at all. Do you really think you’re deserving of a break?” Riddle narrowed his eyes, his arms crossed. Ace, on the other hand, averted his eyes after getting through his initial shock.
“So you noticed..”
“Of course I did.”
“I just can’t focus! It’s just one test. I’ll do better on the next one.” Ace shrugged, looking out the window. He could be doing other things right now. Should he just.. say he needs to go to the bathroom and just leave? No, it’s Riddle. He would wait until Ace got back and punish him. And no one wanted to be on the receiving end of Riddle’s punishments.
“But you didn’t do well on this one. Tell me, what will you do if this material shows up on the final exam?” Riddle questioned, doubtful.
“Eh..”
“Hehe, playing teacher?” A voice suddenly cut out, startling the two. Ace jerked his head over towards the source to see.. a floating head?!
“Ah! It’s you!” What was his name? Arte… Pinky..? Huh???
“Chenya,” Riddle sighed, then looked up, a glare directed at him, rather than Ace. “Stop using your signature spell to scare others.”
“Hehe.” Chenya winked, then the rest of his body appeared.
“Freaky…” Ace mumbled to himself, still recovering from his heart attack earlier. How did he get in here anyway? When did he get here?
“What are you doing here?” Riddle asked the RSA student.
“Can’t I just visit my friends~?” Chenya put his hands behind his head, casually.
Riddle pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m assuming you’ve already met with Trey then?”
“Nope,” Chenya started, popping the p. “I actually thought I was gonna see you two together. You two used to be like, attached at the hip.”
“We were not.” Riddle looked away.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatcha doing?” He said, half-walking, half-skipping over to the table. Sevens, him and Floyd would get along swimmingly— no pun intended.
“As you can see, I’m tutoring one of my freshmen. He got an unacceptable grade on his last test and I am going to ensure that doesn’t happen again,” Riddle explains, gesturing at the textbooks sprawled about on the table.
“Way to put all my business out there, Housewarden..” Ace muttered under his breath. Riddle pointedly ignored him.
“Looks like he’s been working hard. I heard him ask for a break! Why not give the little freshie one?”
“Little freshie?!” Ace can hardly be grateful for Chenya trying to convince the housewarden to give Ace a break when he’s called that! Still.. a break would be nice.
Riddle looks between the two, a hopeful glint in each of their eyes.
Then, he sighed. “Fine. I will permit silent reading for ten minutes,” He responded, at last, handing him an alchemy textbook.
“Eh?! That’s not a break at all!” Ace exclaimed, before he could help it. He withdrew slightly at the glare that Riddle sent him.
“Yeah. I mean, like, something away from studying. Come on, the Chenya is visiting, do you think I’d wanna watch you two studying?” Chenya whined, throwing his arms out. He seemed very.. mischievous. Clearly, this was not his first rodeo.
“And what do you suggest?” Riddle raised a brow.
“I know!” Chenya declared, like he had been waiting for it, then he set his sights on Ace. Ace startled when Chenya started walking towards him, getting closer and cupping his ear to whisper into it.
Ace lit up while Riddle grimaced. Ace looked at the housewarden, newfound fervor in his demeanor. Ace had a mission and he could tell Riddle was not looking forward to finding out what it was.
“What are you two scheming over there?” Riddle demanded and Chenya shook, like he forgot the other was there. Then, the same fervor was in his eyes.
“Get him!” Chenya shouted, suddenly, as if Ace were a soldier or a knight or… something. Still, Ace obliged, running to pounce Riddle. Riddle didn’t seem to stop him, even though he very well could have, so the freshman could tell that he was curious about where this was going to go.
Then, Ace wiggled his fingers on Riddle’s sides and Chenya joined in, tickling Riddle’s ribs and armpits.
“H-huh?! Unhahand me!”
“No way! You were right, he is ticklish!” Ace exclaimed, almost incredulously.
“Hehe, isn’t he?” Chenya giggled. And that’s when it seemed to click in Riddle’s mind that that’s what they were whispering about. Riddle bit his lip, trying to resist but it was all over before he even began.
“Lehehehet gohoho!” Riddle laughed, an unwilling blush rising to his cheeks. Ignoring all that Riddle was, he looked so.. cute and innocent here.
“Nuh uh! This is how I want to spend my break!” Ace started poking his fingers in between Riddle’s ribs, loudly and obnoxiously singing some classical music, like Riddle was a piano. He knew he would probably die later, but… it was worth it.
When he hit a particular sensitive spot on his ribs, Riddle actually snorted. Yep. Definitely worth it.
Chenya was squeezing Riddle’s thighs, lightly grazing the tops of his knees all the while.
“You twohohoho, stahahap!” Riddle cried, squirming and trying to grab his magic pen from his pocket. That is, until Ace started scratching at Riddle’s waist, grazing his sides just barely, but enough to drive him mad.
“No way! Not when I found out my housewarden is,” Ace started, teasingly. “…this ticklish~” He enunciated his words with a poke to his side, laughing at how Riddle jolted each time.
“Teehee, he is just as ticklish as he was when he was little! So cuteee!” Chenya cooed, his slender fingers exploring Riddle’s tummy and bellybutton.
“Shuhuhut uhuhup!” Riddle screeched, his face bright red and Ace wasn’t really sure whether it was from embarrassment or anger. Maybe both. Maybe this shouldn’t go on much longer, he thought, thinking back about the times Riddle had used his unique magic on him. Riddle was better about it now, but he definitely still had his limits.
“Seems like you’re having fun?” A voice called out of seemingly nowhere. All three heads jerked towards the sound, spotting Trey in the doorway.
“Trehehehey! Mahahahake theheheem stohop!” Riddle giggled, finally giving up on trying to break free as he looked at Trey who chuckled in response.
“Alright, don’t you guys think he’s had enough?” Trey asked, walking closer to them but never actually stopping. Ace looked at his house warden and backed away. Chenya got in a few more pokes in before he stopped, as well, deciding to jog over to Trey.
“Trey! Your best friend is here!” He exclaimed, pointing at himself and winking. A fond smile made its way onto Trey’s face and Ace offhandedly wonders about the history between the three.
It is almost silent for a few moments, save for Riddle exhaling slowly and deeply.
“I hope that made for a sufficient break.” Riddle glared at the two, but especially Ace. Likely for giving into Chenya’s whims, which.. fair, but shouldn’t he be more angry at Chenya who suggested tickling him in the first place?!
“It definitely did, Housewarden!” Ace admitted, pushing any fear of retaliation that he might’ve had, recalling the moments just now. If Riddle hadn’t collared him, he must be safe, right? And well, it’s Riddle. Riddle would never do something so petty like tickle him back.
“Whatever. Let’s just get back to learning. And there will be no breaks until we are finished,” The Housewarden declares, sitting up to pick up one of the textbooks on the table. However, he scooted closer towards Ace, so that they were more diagonal than across.
Ace decided not to think about it too much. That is, until Riddle began poking him in the side every time he lost focus or got an answer wrong.
He supposed that this was what he deserved, so he didn't say anything. At least pokes in the side were all it was…
He shivered at the thought of Riddle finding out about how embarrassingly ticklish he was, but he’ll save that for another day! Now, he just has to get through this tutoring session… Ughhhh…
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boygiwrites · 9 months
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Harley D. Dixon 8
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An amazing edit inspired by this story! (Cred to Cora_Line99) Harley D. Dixon's Pinterest Board! Harley D. Dixon's Playlist!
📖Chapter List.
Author's Note. PSA!! I re-worked the last scene in the previous chapter! (It's just different dialogue and a lot of it was cut to fix the pacing.)
Anyway. Very excited to share this chapter! :)
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We spend all day scavenging.
Apparently some people want to start heading to Fort Benning, but Rick wants to stock up before we even think about it. We can't really drive across half the state when we don't even got toilet paper, after all; let alone food or gas.
He leads us from town to town, stopping at random shops, houses, and doctor's offices along the way, in search of supplies. Everybody stays behind in the cars, keeping watch, while the men drag themselves into building after building, coming back more empty-handed each time. I can tell it's starting to weigh on Rick. The last thing anyone ate was that potato salad, and our water bottles are all pretty much empty. We're hungry, tired; miserable — A group made up of growling stomachs and parched mouths.
Ahead of us on the road, Rick honks once and sticks his arm out the driver's window, pointing to a small supermarket he wants to loot.
He takes a left turn, and we all follow him into the parking lot, ready to rinse and repeat.
Everybody parks in front of the store.
My Dad shuts the engine off.
"I'll be back in a bit." He gruffly tells me, pocketing the keys. "Be good. Don't go nowhere unless it's with Dale."
"Okay, Dad."
"And if a walker comes up to the truck, what're you gonna do?"
I sigh. "Scream real loud."
We've been having this exact exchange all day, every time he leaves. We don't talk about nothin' else.
We're not really on good terms, but we're not really arguing, neither.
I think we're at a truce.
That's what happens when two people really want to fight but are deciding not to.
He slowly nods.
Then he grabs his crossbow, hops out, and slams the door behind him.
I watch him re-group with the other men, and they walk off together for the fifteenth time today. It's a pretty dismal routine.
I pass the time waiting for them to come back by reading my book. Dad found it for me back at the book shop. I've been reading it all day. It's about a scruffy cartoon dog named Hairy Maclary, and back home, I used to have almost the entire collection. I think it's why he picked this one. Reading it gives me a familiar comfort that he can't give me right now. It even makes me forget about how hungry I am after a while.
Beside me on the middle seat, there's a pile of other things my Dad's scavenged so far.
On the bottom is an ocean-themed blanket, two pillows, and an armful of clothes that he found in a stranger's house. When we sifted through them, I found a pair of socks that fit me. I slipped them on underneath my new boots. I also found some black jean-shorts and a big, green shirt with a purple frog on it. Frogs are pretty cool. I shimmied them both on to replace my pyjamas. Dad found himself a new pair of steel-toe boots, grey jeans, and a button-up that he ripped the sleeves off. We kept the rest of the clothes as spares.
There's also a half-empty box of bullets, a hammer, craft scissors, and one battery, which took him all morning to accumulate.
My tummy gurgles as I turn the page.
Nobody's found any food yet.
If we could eat batteries or bullets, we wouldn't be so hungry right now, but that's not how it works.
Sighing, I continue re-reading Hairy Maclary for the fifth time today, savouring it by painstakingly studying each picture.
It wastes about ten minutes.
"Whatchu readin'?"
I jump.
Whipping my head to the right, I see Shane walking toward the truck. Oh, God. He just might be the last person I wanna talk to right now.
He reaches the open window and casually crosses his arms over it, but his cheerful demeanour doesn't rub off on me. I try to scoot backward, but the pile of clothes quickly gets in the way. He's standing way too close to me. If he leaned forward just a little, the brim of his cap would touch the side of my head. I don't like that. His military dog tag twinkles innocently in the sunlight. Walsh, it winks at me.
Randomly, I become aware of the fact that there's nobody else around. Something about that isn't right.
"What are you doin'?" I ask.
Don't he know my Dad will shoot him for talkin' to me?
"Oh, you know." He shrugs, smiling. "Thought I'd clock out for a bit, maybe take a lil' break. Nothin' crazy."
Uh... sure.
I don't think Rick would let anybody take a quick break. Not in the sorry state we're in right now. No way. I think he's out here in secret.
He nods toward my book. "So? Whatchu readin'?"
Silence.
"Looks good." He jokes. "I'm a lil' jealous, actually. Maybe once you're done, I'll have to borrow it off ya, huh?"
More silence.
I fold the book in my lap, shielding it from his eyes. I wish I could do the same to my entire body. I don't wanna be doin' this right now. It's like being in the CDC again, that awkward stand-off cloaked in darkness — Only this time, we're in broad daylight.
He clears his throat.
"Your, uh—? Your Dad find that for you?"
"I—"
This is makin' me mad, now. Don't he remember how angry my Dad got before? Does he wanna get shot?
He might be acting stupid, but I won't make the same mistake twice.
Shane is not my friend. Shane is a bastard cop, and I hate him, 'cause I hate bastard cops. I really, really hate bastard cops. Looking at him makes me angry. It makes me even angrier than lookin' at Rick made me, and Rick killed my Uncle Merle, but Shane — Shane ruined everything. He's the reason the car rides are silent now. He's the reason my Dad doesn't feel like the same person no more. He's the reason I couldn't just get belted and be done with it. He just had to walk in. Bastard cop.
He's supposed to save people, but I don't feel very saved.
I just feel angry.
"I ain't talkin' to you." I muster up the dirtiest, nastiest glare I got. "You're a cop. A bastard cop."
His eyes widen.
He wasn't expecting that.
"I'm—" His brows shoot up, and he lifts one hand in surrender. "Harley, I'm just a friend. I'm just here talkin' to you as a friend, okay?"
"You ain't my friend."
"Well, I like to think that you're my friend. And... friends worry 'bout each other, don't they?"
He's worried about me?
I see where this is going.
I don't wanna talk about what happened at the CDC.
"You ain't," I sneer, "My friend. How many times I gotta tell ya?"
I pretend to go back to reading my book, 'cause I want him to go away — just like I wanted him to go away when we were in the CDC. When he talks to me like this, Shane makes me feel like a wobbly tower of cards, ready to fall. He makes me feel like everything I ever knew was just a fairytale, or a straight up lie, like Santa Claus and the Easter bunny. He makes me feel like I'm someone worth feeling sorry for; someone who needs saving.
Well, I don't need saving. He's just gonna have to go save someone else if he wants to do it so bad.
I've been staring at the same word for a whole minute, puffing angrily out my nostrils. I hold the book so tightly that the pages start to crinkle under my thumbs, stretching thin, thin, thin, until they're about to rip under the pressure.
Leave me alone, I wanna scream in his face.
"Can I ask you a question, Harley?" 
I take a deep breath, glowering up at him through my bangs.
He glowers right back.
"Is your Daddy your friend?"
"Wh—?"
The page rips.
"'Cause I can tell you what friends don't do." He raises his brows, leaning closer. "I can tell you that friends don't pin ya down 'till you're crying, Harley. I can tell you friends don't shout; don't make ya feel scared. They don't whip ya with belts, Harley. Is that what you think friends do?"
I struggle to speak. I feel like I'm being accused of somethin' I didn't even do.
"I don't kn—"
"Yes, you do. Lemme ask you again." Shane cuts me off. "Your Dad. Is he your friend?"
Yes, is my immediate thought, and I'm— I'm angry again, 'cause this is exactly what I'm talkin' about when I say Shane makes me feel like everything is a confusing trick. I don't like this question. I don't like that he's even asking it. Yes, my Dad is my friend.
I'm overwhelmed with the sudden urge to defend everything he's ever done.
I open my mouth to answ—
"No." He answers for me — Sharp, like a scolding. "No, Harley. He is not your friend."
"Yeah, he is." I'm shocked. "He is my friend."
I love him. If Shane thinks he can just walk over here and start bad-mouthing my Dad, then he's wrong, 'cause it's not gonna work.
"No. He's not." Shane scolds again, but I refuse to listen to him. I'm reminded of my old teachers again. Whenever I was flunking a simple math question, they'd get angry at me, but they couldn't show it 'cause that's not very nice, so they'd settle for sighing and speaking to me very slowly, instead. That's what Shane does. "I know you think he's your friend. I know you think you love him. I'm not saying you don't, sweetheart, okay? I'm not saying that. I'm saying sometimes friends hurt us, Harley, and we need to have a good, hard think about whether or not we want 'em to keep hurtin' us."
"Well—? I—?"
I realize I don't have anything to say. I have a good, hard think about what he means, instead. A friend? A friend hurting me? I think he means my Dad. Yeah. My Dad's my friend and he hurts me, sometimes. It not that hard to understand. At least it wasn't, not until Shane came along and started lookin' at my Dad like he was some type of monster. The dead people, they're monsters, but not my Dad. I swear it's that simple.
"I don't wanna talk about this." I grumble, glaring down at Hairy Maclary as he chases a butterfly.
"Well, I think we gotta, Harley." Shane insists. "This is important. I'm tryna to help you here."
"I don't need your help."
"Why's that?" He asks patiently.
"Because I don't care 'bout any of that stuff." I'm hating all of this. "I ain't scared'a him."
"You see, I don't believe that." He squints. "I don't think you believe that, either."
I am not afraid. I just have to believe this.
"Yeah, I do." I argue.
"Harley—"
"Yeah, I do."
He gets frustrated, gripping the windowsill.
"'Dad, I'm scared'." He quotes. "That's what you said. That's what you said to him, Harley."
Oh. He heard that. Of course he heard that.
"Well, y-yeah, 'cause I was scared of the dark." I dismiss. "It didn't mean anything. Who cares?"
"You're scared—? You're scared of the dark? You're scared of the dark. Okay. Okay." He takes a step back, rubbing his hands down his face, collecting himself. He laughs but he's not finding anything about this funny. He grabs the window again, harder this time. "You really think I don't remember how you ran off in'a them woods and we all had to high-tail it after you, that night camp got over-run? How it was pitch-black, and you didn't even hesitate? You're not scared of the dark, Harley. Don't lie to me. I don't want my friends to lie to me."
"You're ain't my friend." I groan. "Sophia is my friend. Glenn is my friend. My Dad is my friend. Not you."
"You know what?" Shane gives the door a shake. "Why is that, I wonder? Why am I not your friend, but he is?"
Finally, a question that isn't confusing.
"Because he's my Dad, that's why."
I expect Shane to answer straight away, but he doesn't. He just stands there, raising his brows higher and higher with each second that passes. I frown at him, waiting for him to do something. Eventually, he just shrugs. "That's it?" He sasses me. "That's all you got?"
Well... Yeah.
He's my Dad. Is that not enough?
"He protects me." I'm quick to add. "He makes sure I'm safe. He cares about me. He does up my buttons."
"Anybody can do that." He scoffs. "I can do that."
"No. No, you can't."
"Gimme one good reason why."
"'Cause you're a—"
"And don't gimme any more of that bastard cop nonsense, 'cause I don't wanna hear it. Gimme something real." He makes a fist and beats his knuckles against his breast pocket. "Somethin' from in here. Somethin' from the heart, Harley. Somethin' you haven't heard anybody else say first."
Stumped for words, I try wracking my brain. He's a bastard cop. No, I can't say that.
"Come on." Shane pressures me. "Somethin'. Gimme somethin'."
I go through all the reasons I shouldn't want Shane as a friend.
He's mean? No, Shane isn't mean. I had fun catching frogs with him, and he was even gonna build me a tyre swing before we got forced out of the quarry. He constantly puts himself in danger to provide for the group. He looked after Carl and Lori when Rick couldn't. No. He's not mean, but my Dad doesn't want me to be friends with him. My Dad's word is law. That's a good reason. Yeah. I'll say that.
"It's not allowed." I tell him. "That's why."
"What does that mean?" Shane scoffs. "Do you even know, or is this just him speaking again?"
Oh. It is. I'm just recycling things I've heard before.
Why am I doin' that?
Whatever. I'll think of something else.
"Uh—" I struggle. "You-? You're—?"
I can't come up with anything.
Shane shrugs. "You don't have anythin' else for me?"
"You're—"
A bastard cop.
It all comes down to those three same words.
"You're-You're-You're—" Shane mocks me. "Come on, girl. Think."
I give up.
"I can't, okay?" I finally snap, and in one big huff of anger, I throw my book at his chest. He was right. I can't think of any reason why I should hate him. Not even one. All my thoughts are my Dad's thoughts, and when I try to create new ones, it's just a twisted mess of words and ideas that have never even come outta my own mouth before, only in through my ears. It's just a trick. It's impossible. "You win, okay? There's no reason for me to hate you. S'that what you wanna hear?"
"Finally." He chuckles, picking my book up off the ground. "Good. Good girl. That's what I'm talkin' about."
He holds it out to me.
I snatch it off him.
"I don't hate you." I grouch. "Never did. You win."
"Nah, I think you won." Shane rests his hip against the door with his arms crossed. "You learnt somethin' new just now."
"What?"
He looks like he's proud of me when he says, "How to think for yourself."
How to think for yourself.
What does that mean?
My Dad never taught me how to do that, I don't think. He's taught me everything else I know, like how to skin fish, use a compass, and do up my laces, but he hasn't taught me this. Shane taught me this. I guess I've graduated from learning how to catch frogs. This is a little trickier, but I think I understand. Thinking for myself is like a game — Say something Dad has never told me to say. I don't think I'm very good at it.
I must look a little unsure, 'cause he reassures me, "This is good. This is the first step of somethin' really good for you, okay?"
"Really?" I ask.
Shane seems to know a lot about this.
"Really." He smiles. "Now does this mean you're gonna drop that whole I-hate-your-guts act?"
"Oh. Um..."
I really want to hate Shane. It makes everything so much easier. If we're not friends, then that means I don't have to listen to him talk about what happened at the CDC, and I never wanna talk about that again. But I said it myself, just now. There is no good reason to hate him. He ain't mean, he ain't bad at protecting people, and he definitely doesn't hate me back. He wants to be my friend.
If I don't accept, I'll just be making myself look like an idiot.
I guess he tricked me into becoming friends. I don't know how he did that, but it worked.
"Fine. I'll be your friend." I give in, smiling lightly. It feels a little like admitting defeat, but also like breaking free of something I was stuck in. I don't like hating people. If Dad didn't do it first, I don't think would have ever hated Shane. "But on one condition."
I hold up a finger, putting on a serious face.
Shane smiles, "Shoot."
He's looking at me like no matter what I say right now, he's already gotten what he wants.
"My Dad can't know."
This is very important. I might not hate Shane, even if I am still annoyed with him, but my Dad hates him. He also hated Ronnie, and Ronnie ended up in a grassy ditch in the woods behind our house, with his face beaten to a lumpy, sticky pulp. I don't want that to happen to Shane.
"You know, you're a very smart girl, Harley." Shane lowers his voice. "That's right. Your Dad can't know."
I nervously pick at the skin on my lip. "I've never kept a secret from my Dad before."
"That's alright." Shane soothes. "That's good. That means you're a good person. I'm a good person, too. But this here is our secret now, okay?"
"So, we're friends now? You promise not to tell?"
"That's right." He says. "I promise. You know why?"
"Why?"
"'Cause I won't ever do anythin' to put you in danger, Harley. I want you to remember that."
He puts his hand on my shoulder.
I won't let anything happen to you.
That's somethin' Dads say to kids. That's something my Dad's said to me. But Shane's not my Dad. He's not anybody's Dad.
When we first arrived at the quarry, I remember thinking that Shane and Lori were Carl's parents. Whenever the other kids wanted to play with Carl, they would always go ask permission from them, just like they'd ask permission from Carol if they wanted to play with Sophia. They'd also hover around him all day, making sure he wasn't getting into trouble, and put him in time-out when he was.
Only parents are allowed to do those things. 
I think Shane also thought he was Carl's Dad, 'cause when Rick returned and he wasn't allowed to do those things anymore, he seemed sad.
"Like... how you protected Carl?" I guess.
He gives me a squeeze before letting go.
"Yeah. A little like that."
"But why? Why do you wanna be friends so bad?"
He thinks about it for a minute.
Eventually, he settles on an answer.
"Because we both know it wasn't the dark you were afraid of, sweetheart." He tells me, sighing. "That's why."
I look down at my boots, embarrassed.
It wasn't the dark I was scared of. It was my Dad.
I guess Shane figured it out faster than I thought he would.
I hate that I can't lie to Shane like I can lie to myself. He must've been real good at interrogating people.
"Earlier, you asked me why I'm out here — Why I'm talking to you." Shane says now. I look up at him. "I'm doing it because no one else will. Not Rick. Not Lori. Not Glenn. Not Sophia. Not even your Dad. None of your other friends can help you the way I can, Harley, because they didn't see what happened in that room. They don't know, but I do. And that's very special to me, okay? It's special to me because it means I can help you. And I needed to make sure you were my friend before that can happen."
I start to frown. I do not want his help. That wasn't part of the deal.
Shane gives me a serious look, like he can tell what I want to say. "I know you don't want my help. I know you're angry. You're confused, and I get that. That's okay. But you need to understand that as your friend, I want what's best for you. And what's best for you, right now, is for you to realize that there is someone here who knows what you're going through. Someone who... just wants to help. Someone who's on your side."
I don't know how he plans on helping me. I don't wanna know, either. Cops puts people in jail. There's no jail anymore, but there is rope, and there are places to tie people up — Like shopping cart bays. Jim. I remember how he thrashed. I remember his screaming. I don't want Shane to get beaten, but I also don't want my Dad to get left. I have to choose one. I'm sick of choosing, but I have to. I know who I'm gonna pick.
"Shane, I know we're friends now, but my Dad is my number one friend." I really hope he understands. "Please don't do nothin'. Please don't help."
This makes Shane angry.
He licks his teeth; works his jaw.
I can tell he's already tryna puzzle out how he's gonna trick me into agreeing to this next.
"Please." I ask nicely. "We can still be friends. We can color together. I don't have my crayons no more, but I think Rick found some pencils, before. We can use those. I'll let you do my hair, too, if you want. We can even play tag. Just please don't take my Dad away."
When my Dad got taken away for killing Ronnie, I was sad almost every single day until he came back.
"I need him." I tell Shane. "I love him. Please don't help."
He just keeps giving me that angry look.
I recognize this look, I realize.
It's the look he gave my Dad at the CDC.
Blood-lust.
I realize I'm begging for the wrong thing.
Shane's not gonna take my Dad away.
He's gonna kill him, just like I thought. That's how he thinks he's gonna help.
"Wait." I frown. "I didn't mea—"
"What is going on here?"
I snap my mouth shut.
I look out the window. It's Dale, near the RV. He quirks one hairy eyebrow at us. I glance at Shane. I watch as he slowly re-directs that murderous look onto Dale, and I worry that something bad is going to happen. His veins pop out from his forearms as he grips the window.
"Just what do you think you're doing?" Dale asks, disgusted. "Don't you realize what Daryl would do to you if he saw this?"
Shane's jaw muscle ticks.
"It's okay." I quickly intervene, holding up my book. "He was just askin' about my book."
It's true, he was.
At least, he was at first.
Dale ignores me.
"I'm sure he won't appreciate you sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, I can tell you that much for free."
Wow. He's pretty brave for sticking up to Shane like that.
"Welp. I wasn't askin', Dale." Shane laughs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He shakes his head. He seems to think Dale's nothing more than a pesky little bug that he doesn't wanna deal with. He drops his hand. "You know what? I ain't doin' this. I got more important places to be."
He pushes himself off the truck.
"Nice shirt, kiddo." He mutters.
We watch him walk all the way back to the supermarket, one hand on his gun.
That didn't go so well.
As soon as Shane is back inside, Dale turns his suspicious eye on me. "What did he say to you?"
He wants to kill my Dad because he cares about me.
"Um. Nothin'."
"Are you sure?"
Aw, man. I don't like lying to Dale. He's so nice.
"Yeah. I'm sure."
"Okay," He lilts. "As long as it's not anything me or your Dad should know about."
Oh, God.
"Nope."
I put on my most convincing smile, like I'm posing for a picture.
He eyeballs me for what feels like forever, trying to decide if he believes me or not. I don't think he does. I know I should tell him the truth, but I can't. If Dale tells my Dad that Shane wants to kill him, he's gonna ask how he knows. He's gonna have to tell him that I was talking to Shane, and that just means I'm gonna get belted again. I'm tryna forget all about that, not have it happen all over again.
Besides, Dad already knows Shane wants to kill him, and he's not gonna do anything to put our new friendship at risk, anyway.
It's fine for now.
After a while, Dale gets sick of studying me, and he nods.
"Well, how about you come read your book in the RV? It's getting pretty hot out here."
He's not wrong. It's hot today.
"Oh, did you got that fan working?" I ask hopefully.
Like I said, we've found just about everything except for food — Even a new table fan, thanks to T-Dog.
"Sure did." Dale smiles. "It's working like a charm. Come check it out."
I hop out of the truck and into the soupy, summer heat.
"Can you read my book to me?"
He ruffles my hair. "Sure thing."
"You gotta do a funny voice for Scarface Claw. He's the evil cat."
He laughs.
Dale's a little different than Shane.
He doesn't have to ask to be my friend.
An hour later, the RV door opens.
I lift my head, the cool breeze from the fan fluttering across my face. I watch Rick stumble inside. He's drenched in so much sweat that it looks like he just took a long, hot bath in his clothes. He steals a rag from the drying rack and smothers his face in it. The little fan whirrs politely.
"Any luck out there?" Dale shakes out his newspaper, peering at Rick over his spectacles.
Rick tweaks the faucet on, shoves his head underneath it, and licks up the five little drips that come trickling out, moaning.
Gross.
"Doesn't look like you struck gold in the water department." Dale deadpans. "Any food, at least?"
Rick slides onto the floor, panting heavily.
When he peeks one eye open to glance at me, I belatedly turn the fan towards him, and he sighs in bliss.
"I just need a minute."
I'm literally fanning Rick off. I'm not sure if that's funny or not.
The RV door opens again.
My Dad walks in with Morales, both of them glistening like cuts of oily pork. Dad dumps his crossbow against the wall and crouches in front of the table. He turns his face this way and that against the breeze of the fan, ruffling out his wet hair. He gives my knee two pat, pats, to thank me. I smile just the littlest bit. Morales slumps on the kitchen, huffing and puffing.
Dale laughs at this weirdly entertaining sight. "So? Talk to me, here. What'd we find?"
Rick nudges my Dad out the way to feel the fan better.
"Scoured everythin'," He gulps, wiping his dripping brow. "Top to bottom, left to right. Hell, we even broke open the damn registers, but nothin'. Not even a chocolate coin. Cans were busted all over the floor. Rats were shittin' in the rice. Glenn almost got bit. Shane disappeared for a while; said he got cornered in the break room. Full-scale disaster, is what I'm tryna say."
Shane disappeared, alright, I think, glancing at Dale to try gauge his thoughts.
He just shakes his head.
"I take it we're not considering rat-casserole, yet?" He asks.
"Nah. Trust me, we would'a." My Dad scoffs. "But the dead ones were already chewin' on 'em."
Ew.
I think I'd rather eat frog legs.
Morales gestures My turn now, so I pivot the fan onto him next.
"I don't see how we're gonna make it to Fort Benning the way things are," Rick says. "But we can't keep doin' this."
"What's the plan, then?"
"We do what Shane suggested." He shrugs, looking around for objections. There aren't any, so he makes a cutting gesture with his open palm. "We power our way through to Fort Benning — Straight shot. We wipe our assess with leaves. We eat whatever game Daryl can find. We boil river water. We sleep in the cars. I'on care. I'm not risking our lives for this anymore. It's not worth it."
"Fan's pretty worth it." Morales sighs wistfully.
Dad side-eyes him, as if to say, You serious?
"And when we run out of gas?" Dale chimes in again. "RV's only gonna make it three more days, tops. And I don't even want to look at the radiator hose. It's hanging on by a thread, and barely, at that."
"We siphon." Rick simply says. "We drive and we don't stop unless it's to siphon or sleep. That's how it's gotta be from now on."
Drive, siphon, sleep.
Drive, siphon, sleep.
It don't sound fun or nothin', but it sure beats scavenge, scavenge, die.
"As for the hose," Rick rubs his sweaty, stubbly chin, before pointing at my Dad. "You're sittin' next to a mechanic. Daryl can do check-ups every few miles, and if somethin' really goes side-ways, we can just pull one from another car. There's a solution to every problem. Problems, I can handle. Full-scale disasters — Not so much. That's why I'm choosin' this. I believe we can do it."
This group is strong. It's like a glue that won't let up.
"As long as we don't gotta make more jerky." I mumble.
One by one, they all chuckle.
It's been a long day.
"Alright... Let's get a move on, then." Rick shakes his head tiredly as he stands back up again, against all odds, his smile a beacon.
The sun clips through the window like a golden floodlight, slowly sinking; slowly burning.
"We're runnin' outta daylight."
The fan continues to whirr like a happy kitten.
Author's Note.
Shane... the master manipulator!
That was one jam-packed conversation I had to get down, ahaha.
And Rick... I just love clowning on him every now and then. He's so corny and fun. The last scene in this chapter might be my favorite in the entire story so far, it's just so random and simple.
Please let me know what you thought about this chapter!!!
Sending love! :)
23 notes · View notes
sunspray-peak · 9 months
Text
Ch. 50: Spirit's Eve Pt. 3
CW: Domestic abuse, suicidal ideation
Black. Absolute pitch black. 
Or perhaps his eyes were closed. It was difficult to tell. Every inch of him was numb, except for an antsy prickle at the base of his skull. 
“Alex?” Achilles called into the darkness. 
“Right here.”
He stumbled towards the voice, only to stop—was it Alex? This voice seemed… huskier. Lower than Alex’s usual baritone. 
Achilles found himself reaching for a sword that wasn’t there. What’s going on—
“Right here, Ash.” 
Something clambered at his face, and Achilles leapt back, ready to swing. “Ow, that’s my nose, fuck—”
A blinding burst of light. Red-orange, and scorching hot from even a foot away.
It took a few seconds to adjust to the sudden flames, but after blinking away a few tears, Achilles could discern Alex’s face from the shadows. 
But was it Alex? Seeing his face, Achilles was still not convinced—it looked like him, sure. Same loose curls, same freckles, same stellar jawline… (stop it!) but something was off. There was a renewed focus in his eyes, a vigor in his stance that hadn’t been there only five minutes ago. 
Another orange flare bloomed in the darkness. Alex offered him a second torch. 
“You ready for this? Looks like it’s just you and me, bro. Must’ve gotten split from Elliott and Leah…”
Fuck! It sounded like Alex, looked like Alex and yet… it wasn’t Alex, no, something was surely off. Why else would his head be prickling like this, why else were the ants in his mind reawakening. 
They were in the Astral Plane now. Someone was playing tricks, someone was out to get him—
Even so, Achilles took the offered torch, but he also took a step back. “Who are you?” 
“What?” 
“Get back!” He clumsily brandished the wooden handle, much heavier than the swords he’d been used. The torch felt strange in his hands. Were they even his hands? Was he even… him? Who even was “him” anyway? 
Alex sighed, studying Achilles’ wild, widened eyes. “Didn’t drink enough did you? We did warn you…
“The magic sobers you up for some reason. Well, maybe ‘sobers’ isn’t the right word, I don’t know. But it, like, can really put you on edge. Make you extra sensitive to what’s around you. 
“But someone like ten years ago realized that if you get wasted enough ahead of time, it’d cancel out the effect, or at least, like, weaken it so that you’d feel just kind of… normal. Well, it turned into a bit of a tradition, all that drinking, and… here we are. Lewis tried to stomp it out a couple years back, but that didn’t really go well. It is why the maze is so early in the night, though. So people don’t spend the whole festival drunk.” 
That was the most ridiculous thing Achilles had ever heard, and in a few choice, and slightly more vulgar, words, he made his thoughts known to Alex. Or whoever this Alex-like figure was.  
But he only sighed again, as if to say See? Paranoid. And, patient as ever, Alex proceeded to clasp Achilles’ shoulder and said, “What do I need to do to prove to you I’m telling the truth?” 
“Nothing.” Achilles tossed Alex’s hand aside and retreated to the safety of a hedge. He felt slightly more secure with the thick foliage against his back. “I know how you spirits work, you’re in my fucking head, you already fucking know everything there is to know about me. I’m staying here until this is over.” 
“Oh brother…” Alex looked down at Achilles huddled against the ground. “Well, the feeling should mostly fade in a few minutes… I guess we can just wait it out.” After a last pitying glance, Alex took a seat a few feet away—far enough to no longer be an immediate threat, close enough that Achilles could still watch him with distrustful eyes. 
Alex moved to glance at his watch, only to realize that it was still on Achilles’ wrist where he himself had clasped it two day ago. “Man… there go my dreams of breaking the Spirit’s Eve Haunted Maze record…” 
*****
Who is he?
Why are you here? 
Who are you?
*****
“A few minutes” had been conservative. It took nearly fifteen for Achilles to slowly pull himself from paranoia’s grasp. And even then, while he had finally accepted Alex to indeed be Alex, there still remained a tense dread that refused to fully relinquish his mind, a dull anxiety tapping at the base of his skull. 
Relax. 
But Achilles’ nose was twitching. “This is hazing,” he hissed, standing up from the damp grass.  
“What is?” 
“Purposefully failing to disclose why everyone except me was getting drunk, I would’ve partaken too, had I known—”
“I’m surprised you didn’t find out about it by accident with all that research and reading you like to do, it’s like the main thing in all the news articles about being Zuzu’s #1 Spirit’s Eve—” 
“—oh, I’m sorry, I was too busy being stuck in a mine—”
“You’re right, you’re right.” Alex held his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry.” 
Great job relaxing. 
Achilles sighed and pinched his nose. “Right… so outside of all the… magic… is it just a normal maze?” He knelt to pick up his torch from where he had set it in the grass. The intense heat was reassuring, for the temperature was still frigid. Frost from the grass had even seeped through his pants. 
“Yes!” Alex bounded quickly over, cape flowing behind him. “At least, I think so.” 
“Are we just dropped somewhere randomly in the middle of it?” 
“I think so.”
“Is it just us? I haven’t heard anyone else…” 
“Yeah, I think so. Part of the magic, I guess, though we should’ve been with Elliott and Leah, I guess they crossed the barrier without us—” 
“Alex, is there anything you’re sure about—”
“Well it’s definitely… scary.” 
“Is it really?” Achilles began to investigate the hedge, torch held aloft as he examined corners and attempted to peer through the thick tangle of vine-like branches. “Never been one to scare too easily myself, though I suppose you can hold my hand if it becomes to much for you. Although you should really be protecting me, shouldn’t you?”
“Um, I thought we decided I was the squire and you were the knight—“
“I meant since you’re Nimbus—”
“Oh yeah…”  
“So are there… monsters hidden along the path or something? Axe murders? Ghosts?” He could deal with those. Spirits on the other hand… well, he could deal with those, too. He’d dealt with them two days ago, no reason he couldn’t do it again… 
“No… well… maybe.” 
“Alex.” 
“Well I mean, it’s magic, yeah? You heard Rasmodius earlier, didn’t you? It’s stuff that you’re scared of. Like, you specifically. And me.” 
Oh.
Fuck. 
“So. You ready now? You any good at these things?” 
They began to make their way down the only available path before them. Achilles held his broken hand lightly against the right wall of the maze, his cast protecting him from the sharp, spiky leaves of the hedge. “No better than most, I suppose… is there a way we can mark what paths we’ve followed?” 
“Yes! Well…” Alex grimaced. “I think so. If nothing’s changed, there should be beacons we can light outside all the… what are they called? Like when you have to paths to chose from? Like the forks in the roads or whatever.” 
“Fabulous. Well, if that’s the case, I think we should be good then. We’ll just brute force it.” 
“See, looks at us.” Alex smacked him lightly on the back of the head. “Where would I be without your big brain?” 
*****
It was silent in the maze, other than the soft tread of their footsteps crunching the frost. Visibility was poor, even with the torches, though there likely wasn’t much to see. But if something did come striking out from the shadows… well, he was ready, as tense and jittery his muscles were.
But between the lack of sound and lack of sight, Achilles felt suffocated in his restlessness. 
 Had he known this would be the maze… dammit, why didn’t anyone say it was going to take place on the fucking Astral Plane? Textbook definition of hazing. He would’ve stayed with Haley—and how was he supposed to know it was some special, personalized affair? Absolutely ridiculous… 
And the disquieting unease… it still hadn’t fully left him. 
On they trudged, straight forward—not much of a maze, this was—until Alex nearly collided into a pair of dark metal sconces riveted straight into the hedge before them. 
They had reached their first crossroads. At the sight of the two paths, both gaping black maws stretching endlessly into darkness, whispers began to stir in his mind… But were they spirits or his own mind? 
Why are you here? 
“So.” Alex held his torch aloft, ready to ignite one of the two beacons. “You prepared to face your fears, weather boy? Right or left?” 
*****
One step to the rightmost path, and they were no longer standing in the dark, but instead somewhere very, very bright between a golden sun and a thick spread of cumulus clouds. 
Fuck. 
Fuck fuck fuck. 
The Shadow King. Where they had met—this had to be it—Achilles didn’t think he had too many fears, but this—fuck, he had sworn never to return here ever again—leave it to this fucking, fucking maze—
His eyes began to burn, no, he couldn’t do this. Not again—
Why are you here? Why the fuck didn’t you just stay behind—
“Are you scared of heights? Because it’s not me.” 
Achilles opened his eyes. He hadn’t even realized he’d closed them in his panic. Alex had wandered to the very edge of whatever platform they were standing atop and was peering down. 
“H-heights?” 
“Yeah. Or, at least, I assume so. Unless you’re scared of clouds? Or birds? Look—” Alex pointed at a enormous flock of geese heading towards them. “Oh, whoops, or maybe don’t look, if you don’t like them… but no, you don’t mind birds, right? I’ve seen you with Shane’s chickens.” 
Geese… 
So this wasn’t where he’d met the Shadow King. There wouldn’t be geese there. And besides, it was much too warm. The sun here was radiant, more orange than sickly yellow. 
Relax. You’re fine. You’re fine!
And though he was scared of heights, Achilles felt almost giddy as his body came to the realization that the Shadow King was nowhere to be found. 
“It’s me. It’s heights,” he said, with a rather crazed grin on his face. “Yes, I’m scared of heights. Heights!” 
“Oh no… you all right there?” Alex moved towards him, hand outstretched. “Man, what’s wrong with you?” For Achilles had dissolved into a wild fit of laughter, collapsing first to his knees, and then onto his back, attempting to form snow angels in thin air. 
“You look good,” Achilles grinned, gazing lazily up at Alex who was now hovering over him in concern. 
“What?” 
Achilles pointed a broken finger at Alex’s cape, which was indeed flowing rather heroically behind him in the billowing, high-altitude wind. “You look good. Like a real superhero. Wish I had a camera.” 
“You’re crazy.”
“I’m just happy.” 
But are you though? 
And just like that, unease once again began to seep through his veins.  
Alex, however, having had returned to the rim of their translucent platform with his hands on his hips, toed the edge. “I think we might have to jump.” 
“Oh, like hell we do.” 
“No, I really think we’re supposed to jump. Not sure what else we’d do, it’s not like we can turn back.” 
Achilles spared a quick glance at their surroundings as he clambered slowly back to his feet. Ooh, a mistake. Now that his relief had subsided, he was forced to face the actual fear with which this maze was presenting him. Lightheaded, he made to grip Alex’s offered forearm for support as he dizzyingly considered their predicament. 
Alex was right. They were trapped, thousands of feet in the air, on a titchy 10x10 feet platform. 
“I should’ve had more to drink…” 
“I told you so, you noob.” 
Alarm bells had accompanied the tingling swoop currently swishing in his stomach. “You’ve done more of these mazes than me. You really think we’re supposed to jump?” 
“Yeah.” 
“You promise you’ll catch me?” 
“And how am I supposed to do that with us both up here—”
“You were supposed to just lie. Some superhero you are.” 
Alex rolled his eyes at Achilles’ weakly delivered joke and pulled his arm away, offering instead his hand. Achilles took it. 
“You promise we don’t die?” 
“Cross my heart. Remember. None of this is real.” 
Alex gave him a reassuring smile and lightly squeezed the cast of his broken hand. The wind was blowing harder now, tousling Alex’s hair.   
“You know, I really do wish I had a camera.” 
A small laugh. “Count of three?” 
“Fine.” 
“1…”
They bent their knees.
“2…”
“You know, nope—fuck, you’re just going to have to push me—“
And then he was falling. Falling and falling, harder and faster than he thought possible, the wind shrieking so loud he couldn’t hear his own screams. 
And then he was on firm ground. Back in the dark. Surrounded by hedge. 
“Fuuuuuuck…” 
“You okay?”
“Just… catching my breath…” Achilles was squatting—gross, when had he decided to squat?—palm of his left hand digging into his eyes. “Fuck, let me tell you… that was no fun at all…”
“#1 Spirit’s Eve Carnival ten years in a row according to the Zuzu Times, baby. Would be 14 years, but we were ranked #2 back in XXXX. Lewis blames it on the journalist, of course—says it was her own fault it took her 4 hours to get out of the maze.”
Perhaps it was Alex’s offhand use of the word “baby,” or simply the possibility of being stuck in here for 4 hours, but Achilles jolted to his feet and followed Alex down the path they had chosen. 
“So. What the fuck scares you? I feel like I should preemptively prepare myself…” 
“Spiders. I get that every year in the maze. It’s not a phobia or anything, I just don’t like them… earthquakes? Werewolves. The plague. Nothing crazy. Ooh, last year, we got this gnarly room of axe murderers… not sure if that was for me though, I mean, does anyone actually like axe murderers…”
“Werewolves? Really?”
“I don’t know, man, I was a big vampire kid growing up…” 
*****
They had agreed to turn right at every fork until it was clear they had been led astray, either encountering a dead end or an already lit beacon. 
And at perhaps 65% of the crossroads (“Rasmodius likes to keep you guessing”), they were transported to some new land and forced to confront some new fear of theirs. Though “fear,” Achilles felt, was an overly generous term. No, Achilles wouldn’t say he feared worms. But had they filled him with an overwhelming sense of disgust when the two had been forced to sprint down a narrow corridor carved deep through the earth? Perhaps. But who wouldn’t have wanted to hurl at the sight of thousands and thousands of slimy, pink worms wriggling their slimy, pink wormy heads out from the surrounding thirty some foot walls of moist soil? 
After the worms came the spiders. Ranging from the size of Achilles’ pinkie nail to that of his farm’s greenhouse, the devils had given the pair a harrowing chase through a thicket of bramble. 
But overall, both had been easy enough to complete. It had only been a matter of running, really, and given their levels of fitness (and despite the fragility of Achilles’ still sore limbs), it hadn’t taken too long to escape either encounter. 
“I can still feel them crawling all over my skin,” Alex spat, furiously rubbing his arms as they stopped to catch their breaths. 
“What skin?” Achilles shoved his torch forward to illuminate Alex’s torso. “That costume’s pretty much vacuum sealed to your body, those spiders got no opening. Me on the other hand…” He gave his leg as hard a stomp as it could tolerate. “If I find spiders in my underwear tonight, I’m suing.” 
*****
There was some typical haunted house fare mixed in with the personally curated scenes—no axe murders this time, but they did face zombies (“These bastards are fake, right? I can punch them and not hurt anyone?”), killer clowns (“You know, I see what Haley meant earlier about Emily now.”), and moaning mummies (“Hot. Just kidding, you all need to shut the fuck up—fuck! Shut up! Agh!”) in their search for the exit. 
Strobe lights, plumes of smoke, and twisty passageways made it harder to simply dart through, and jump scares slowed their progress even more, having left Alex painstakingly cautious after sending him screaming for mercy more than once (Achilles, as an avid horror fan, found himself mercifully less susceptible).  
*****
Not satisfied with your run of the mill, magical labyrinthine frights, Rasmodius had somehow managed to integrate brain teasers of sorts into the mix as well. 
“Couldn’t just be an earthquake, huh?” Achilles bellowed as the two of them clung to the jerking legs of a heavy office desk where they had just managed to retrieve a heavy brass key. “One maze just wasn’t enough, let’s give them another. Really make them think.” 
Another earth crumbling rattle. Framed photographs and books clattered to the floor.
A fire began to break out by the window. 
“Good thing I have you and your big brain, then,” Alex managed to say through chattering teeth as they slipped and scampered down what turned out to be a second dead end staircase. He threw up his cape to shield them from shards of glass falling from the skylight above. “Now can you—can you just get us out of this house, please?” 
“I’m trying, I’m trying. It’s a lot harder to estimate the floor plan when the room you’re trying to measure won’t fucking stay still…” 
*****
“Ya know, I’m surprised we haven’t come across a piece of mail yet, seeing as that’s probably your biggest fear—”
“And I’m surprised you didn’t piss your pants back there with the dinosaur egg puzzle, bitch—” 
“You really expect me to be able to read when we’re being chased by a Tyrannosaurus Rex — ”
“A T. Rex? That dinosaur had four legs, did you not have a dinosaur phase when you were a kid— ”
“I don’t care, Achilles, it was a big freaking dinosaur and it wanted to eat us—”
“Well as you yourself keep saying, it wasn’t real—”
“And neither was the airplane we were trapped in, didn’t stop you from screaming your head off—”
Achilles broke into laughter as Alex lit the beacon of the path they had just exited. Even if none of the dangers were actuallyreal, the rush of relief that came after still very much was. And a good laugh was exactly what he needed, really, to distract the still lingering bits of paranoia and dread from seizing total control again. 
“How long’s it been?” Alex nodded towards Achilles’ wrist. “We started at 9.” 
“It’s—oh, shit. I’m sorry, I never gave this back, did I—”
“No, no.” Alex bounded over to stop him from unclasping the watch, placing his hand atop Achilles’. “Keep it for now. Matches your costume a lot better than it does mine.” 
“Well… all right then.” With a tiny grimace, Achilles politely retracted his hand, under pretense of adjusting the collar of his shirt. “10:15.” 
“Huh. Not bad, especially given we spent the first 80 million minutes waiting for you to remember who the heck you were—”
“All right—”
“Shame, the record’s 45 minutes, but maybe we can still beat the average. Onwards and upwards! Or… northwards? Can you tell directions from the moon or is that just like a sun thing?” 
*****
It was freezing. And very, very, white. 
The Shadow King in the Astral Plane. The thought struck like lightning, shattering his head in a sizzling bolt of pain. What else could be so white? And so cold. 
But no. 
Listen.
There was music… holiday music? 
“Is this… Winter Star?” 
Achilles could see his shivering breath. 
Relax… 
They had been transported to a small town. Not anywhere in the Valley, that was clear enough, if not from the sub zero temperatures, then from the dozen cookie cutter, pastel houses lining a freshly shoveled road. Strings of gold and silver lights hung alongside evergreen wreaths from roofs and windowsills and trees, and more than one set of white reindeer had found a lawn to call home.
Picture perfect suburbia. 
“This definitely isn’t for me.” Achilles flipped up his hood just as the wind began to pick up and shoved his fingers into his windbreaker’s pockets . It didn’t help. “Unless we’re talking freezing to death, I do hate the cold. Have you got something against candy canes? Scared of Santa Clause?” 
Despite the cold, a number of houses had thrown their windows open—that must’ve been where the music was coming from. And the mouthwatering scent of sugar cookies.  
Alex continued to study the neighborhood with a furrowed brow over hardened green eyes. The cold seemed to have had little effect on him despite his lack of layers, and his cape, thick as it was, was blowing away from him. Achilles subtly moved to seek cover behind it just as Alex began to walk briskly down the street. 
“It’s not a fear.” Alex dipped behind a massive snowdrift to get to the sidewalk. “It’s a memory.”
Achilles followed him, socks quickly soaked, feet chilled to the bone, despite his careful attempt to step only in Alex’s booted footsteps. Entirely engrossed in avoiding the wet, unshoveled snow, he walked straight into a cape-clad shoulder, and slipped. 
“Ah, fuck!—fuck…” But mercifully, his left arm (as well as the thick snow) had broken his fall. Though of course, now everything was wet. And cold… He staggered up with Alex’s help, his legs numbing rapidly as the snow stain spread along his left pant leg. Thank Yoba for the waterproof windbreaker… 
“Yeesh.” Alex unclasped his cape and wrapped it tightly around a now practically vibrating Achilles, the rate his teeth were chattering… Chill, you fool. Or, maybe don’t chill… ha. Ugh, shut up…
“You didn’t get much snow in Hyacinthia, did you? Definitely none in Monstera…” He readjusted Achilles’ hood, which had fallen in his stumble, and gave the strings a hearty tug. 
“I grew up here in Saxifrage, so I don’t really mind the cold. This was my house.” He pointed at the two story he had stopped abruptly before. Pale blue siding, with a little white picket fence caging a little white snowman and a little white porch, where fluorescent plastic icicles shared real estate with real ones, now dripping in the bright overhead sun. 
“I-icy,” Achilles managed to squeak. 
“Ha. You could say that. Come on, let’s get out of here before you get pneumonia again, although I guess you can’t actually get pneumonia in here, can you…” 
Alex led the way up the driveway to the porch. It was only half shoveled, and clumsily so, for there was still a thin layer of slush streaking the cement. Would likely freeze overnight.
The jolly carols and hymns of Winter Star began to fade as they neared the front door, to be replaced by a raised voice. Muffled, but still discernible through the locked windows.
Without even the slightest beat of hesitation, Alex turned the handle and waltzed in. Achilles, however, remained behind on the porch. 
Even still, through the crack in the door Alex had left behind, he could now hear more vividly what he had been dreading since Alex’s reveal that this was a memory—more shouts. The high-pitched shatter of glass. A dull thud of slammed fists. 
“Are you coming?” Alex had peaked his head from around the side of the door. “It’s a lot warmer in here.” 
“I… I don’t want to intrude…” 
“Oh. I see.” Alex made a little hop back out onto the porch. “I’m sorry. I—I know it’s probably uncomfy. Or awkward, I dunno, but… well, I don’t actually think I can go on without you.” 
Go on without him? 
Ah. 
The maze. 
Well, if that was the case… the sooner he followed, the sooner they’d be out. And he was more than eager to leave this place. Not only this memory of Alex’s, but the whole damn Astral Plane… 
“If it makes you feel better, maybe, you’re not intruding.” Alex let Achilles pass into the rather plain foyer. Nothing here but a key holder along the wall and a wooden shoe rack. Fresh snow had tracked its way through the front door, culminating in a small pool around a tiny pair of blue and green polka dotted rain boots. 
“I’m not embarrassed,” he said. But even at his normal, chipper volume, he was barely audible above the screaming coming from what seemed to be the kitchen up ahead that Achilles was determined now to ignore. “Or ashamed. Oh, maybe I should be, I don’t know. At least, don’t you feel weird on my behalf. ” 
Alex first turned the knob fully before carefully shutting the front door. 
But the noise, soft as it was, seemed to have alerted the figures in the kitchen. The shouting had stopped, but lowered volume alone wasn’t enough to hide the rage still simmering beneath poison-laced whispers. But before anyone approached them, Alex jumped to climb a carpeted staircase to their right. 
“I was five. Watching from right about here.”
 At the top, Alex stopped, making room for Achilles as they squatted to peer through the waist high wooden railing. “I was a lot smaller then,” he added with a little laugh, and then pointed through the bars to the hallway below where two figures had emerged. 
One was clearly Alex’s mother. Though she didn’t look much like her son, Achilles recognized her instantly from the photo on Alex’s bedroom desk. Blue eyes, red rimmed but widened in fiery defiance, above thin lips now curled in disgust. Frizzy, light brown hair was tied back with a blue ribbon, the ponytail bouncing against her pink sweater as she pointed her finger at the man who could only be Alex’s father. 
Like Alex, he was handsome—or, perhaps, had been once. Any traces of resemblance were now mostly hidden behind an aggressive bloat not unlike Shane’s from the early Summer. An uneven shave and greasy hair accompanied a stained shirt, but even with a significant slouch and tottering step, he towered over Alex’s mother. 
It happened fast. She had turned her back to return to the kitchen, but in the blink of an eye, he reached for her arms, twisting them behind her and wrenching her back amidst a pained cry. 
Achilles gasped—and Alex’s father turned.
He said nothing at first. Only released Alex’s mother, who, biting back tears, made for the stairs. Ignoring her, he continued to gaze menacingly up at the two of them behind the railing before mouthing 
Worthless. 
Never had anyone, especially his own father—a man who’d never even raised his voice to Achilles—looked at him with such hatred and disdain. The chill instantly returned, a stabbing cold that sent goosebumps down his arms. The man’s eyes were green like his son’s, it was unnerving—how could a sight that’d always been so comforting now look so… mean? 
He couldn’t do it. Achilles looked away and retreated into the shadows, against the wall just as Alex’s mother raced past to the room at the end of the hall, shutting the door behind her. 
Alex, however, continued to stare back at his father with almost clinical coolness. “I think this was the first time I realized my dad wasn’t a good man,” he said, watching, with startling impassivity, the man stalk back to the kitchen. Even Alex’s tone was nonchalant. “Time to go, I think.” 
“Do you want to…” Achilles glanced towards the door at the end of the hall. “I don’t know. Go in? Talk to her? 
“Talk to her?” With a laugh—a laugh!—Alex stood and said, “This isn’t real, Ash.” 
“I— I know that, but I don’t know, if you maybe wanted… I don’t know… closure?” 
But Alex only smiled and led him through the second door on the right. 
“I appreciate that.” He gingerly closed the door of his childhood bedroom behind them. Pictures of dinosaurs had been pasted on the walls. Wrinkled crayon drawings. Toy trucks and action figures were neatly organized in plastic bins of various shades of blue, and in the corner on the floor was a small helmet sitting sandwiched between a grid ball and a soccer ball. 
“I don’t need to go in there and see my mom cry. I mean, I don’t know… closure? What am I supposed to say? Tell her he sucks and that I hated him too?” Alex chuckled as he picked up one of the two balls and spun it in his hands. “Or tell her that it’s going to get better? That I’m going to end up ok? That I love her? That I miss her? 
“Who would I be doing it for, Ash? For her? Like I said, it’s not real. She’s not real. This is just a memory, and I’ve so many other ones of her. Better ones. When I want to talk to her, it won’t be like this.” 
He set the ball back down on the floor. In the brief silence, Achilles could just barely hear the trace of a stifled sob through the thin walls. 
“Now to do it for me? Oh. I guess that’s what you were you probably actually getting at, huh… I’m stupid. But I don’t know. I mean, I do know—like I said, I know it got better, and I hope it’ll keep getting better. 
“I’ve made peace with my past, Achilles. Maybe I should still be angry at him. But I’m not. I don’t forgive him, but I don’t feel angry anymore. No, really, I’m not, not anymore. And maybe that’s not right, maybe that’s not healthy—hey, I never went to therapy, remember?” Again, Alex laughed. “But I just… maybe it’s because I’m lazy, but I think it’s just so much effort to hold on to the past like that. It happened. I can’t change it. It is what it is. So why live in it? What makes this time in my life so much more important that I should let it control how I feel now?
“I guess I’ve come to realize and sorta accept that all the good that’s happened in my life since is just as real as everything that happened here in this house. I mean, don’t get me wrong. It took a lot of time to figure that out. But I did. So I guess I’ve already given myself… what’d you say? Closure.” 
Alex smiled softly and moved to take a seat on the twin bed in the corner, gently pushing a small, plush stegosaurus to the side. 
“Now. Let’s get out of here.” 
Ah yes. The maze. Achilles had nearly forgotten.  
“Ah. Right. How do we get out?” 
“Oh, we usually just follow the memory until it ends. They’re never long.” Alex patted the space next to him. “After all that, I just went to bed.” 
Achilles sat. For a split second, his hand brushed Alex’s where he had left it on the blue comforter. 
But then there was black. And then they were gone. 
*****
The autumn breeze felt almost warm after their sojourn to Alex’s hometown of Saxifrage, but the chill had yet to leave Achilles. 
“I’m… sorry.” 
“Don’t be.” Alex had already started walking down their chosen path, having lit the beacon. “What’ve you got to be sorry for, huh?” 
Achilles squirmed, but quickly followed. “I don’t know… for just… being there. It seems awfully…  wrong to make people live through their worst memories in, well… public.” 
“Ya know, actually, it’s funny you say that, I was just thinking how weird that was. It’s normally not so bad. The memories are usually more like the ‘remember that time your 10th grade girlfriend roasted you in front of everyone in the middle of the hallway in high school’ level of trauma. Penny had to witness that last year, that was not fun…
“But like I said earlier, I’m not embarrassed. I mean, sure, that definitely wouldn’t have been my first choice of a memory to revisit, but as I said, I’ve… come to terms with it. And as for the ‘public’ of it all though… well, if it had to be with someone, I’m glad it was with you.” 
*****
They were in a boat. 
No. 
Just past midnight here in Memory Land, Achilles knew. It was dark, though not too far in the distance, one could make out a multicolored array of lights flashing to a steady, reverberating beat. The moon was currently hidden by a cloud, but Achilles knew that it was full.
The waters were unusually rough for this lake. This, Achilles also knew. 
He sank into the white leather of the seats, though under the neon beam of the overhanging light, they shone an eye-watering blue. 
“Gotta say, I was kinda waiting for this one—surprised boats and swimming didn’t come up sooner. Dang, why’s the water so cold, though?” Alex, who had been leaning far over the side to dip his hand into the frigid waves, shook out his numb fingers in the much warmer air before eagerly wrapping them tight in his cape. “Couldn’t have been the Gem Sea, huh… but hey. We got this. Swimming’s easy peasy for you now.”
With his dry hand, he rapped the lacquered wood of the steering wheel, ran his hand along the smooth leather of the armrests behind it before taking a seat. “Man, this is a hella nice boat.”
Get up. Get the fuck up. 
Achilles stiffly stood.
Now get out.
He made his way haltingly across the polished deck. A half forgotten dread was reawakening in his bones, and panic surged with every step across the increasingly familiar fiberglass floor. 
What’s the matter with you? This isn’t real. 
With gritted teeth, he leaned over Alex’s shoulder and pressed a button on the dashboard. With a small thrum, the boat came to life, and began to cut quietly through the lapping water towards the center of the lake. 
“You feeling okay? I feel like the water’s pretty much an old hat to you now…” But Alex trailed off as he took in Achilles’ silence and turned back. “Oh. This is your memory, isn’t it? Cold water… this is Monstera isn’t it? Somewhere on the east coast?” 
Achilles had sunk to his knees during Alex’s realization, and was now opening a storage compartment built into the side benches with a more determined focus than the simple task required. “Yes.” 
“Is it… bad? The memory?”  
“Well.” Unlike Alex previously, Achilles had to force himself to laugh. A hollow bark that rang along the dark, open water. “It’s not good.” 
“Oh. Do you want to—”
“Let’s just get out of here.” He shut the door sharply and rose, forcing himself to lean over the railing, catch his breath in the dry breeze as the boat continued to churn ahead. 
Yoba, why was it so damn warm in Monstera… it was cold air he needed to clear his head… something biting to resharpen his senses… 
The water was cold. But he wouldn’t touch that. No, not until he had to. 
Just follow the memory until it ends… that’s what Alex had said earlier.
But who determined what the ending was? 
Continuing to avoid Alex’s bemused gaze, Achilles flung on the life jacket he had dug out from the bench, though he neglected to buckle it, and retreated to the back of the boat. 
You’ve lived through this before. 
His good hand was pressing down hard on his knee, fighting the tremors currently threatening to tap a hole straight through the fiberglass floors. 
Why are you so scared? There is nothing to be afraid of. This isn’t real. It’s fine. 
Breathe in. Breathe out. 
Even so, he could feel the sweat beading down his back. 
My name is Achilles Oleander Robinson… I’m 28 years old today… 
The words came to him without thinking. Something simple to cling to. To steady him as he closed his eyes, hung his head beneath his knees.  
With a small sputter, the motor suddenly gave out, and even though Achilles was expecting it, he slid forward with the boat’s lurch, tumbling into a wicker chair that had been set out by a small dining table.  
“Ow, fuck…” 
Should’ve seen that coming… 
“Ash?” Alex’s voice, followed by footsteps. “Is that supposed to happen?” 
“Yeah.” Achilles slowly stood, waving aside Alex’s offered hand, and made for the side of the boat, but not before catching glimpse of strobing red and blue lights coming closer from behind them. “I was… kinda drunk. Didn’t refill the tank when I took it out, and it died on me.”
Get going. 
“So what should we do next?”
Achilles clambered onto the edge of the boat, the toes of his shoes hanging off the side. Was it his imagination, or had the air actually turned colder? And had the waves been just as loud six years ago? Just as rough? It was getting hard to remember… 
Focus. It’s like crossing off your To-Do List. Check, check, check. 
“Achilles? What happened next?” 
He could just make out a single blare of a siren now, and from the corner of his eye, he saw Alex glance back at the approaching red and blur lights. But he turned back to the waves, and he addressed his words to the waters before them. 
“Well. I went into the water.” 
Nothing to fear. You can do this. You’ve already done this… 
“You went into the water? I thought you didn’t know how to swim before you came to Stardew.” 
“No, you’re right. I didn’t.”
He could feel through the vibrations in his feet as Alex clambered up next to him, but he remained focused on the depths below.
“But I’m wearing a life jacket, aren’t I? Come on, let’s get out of here.” 
Just be done with it, for once and for all. 
And he jumped. 
*****
The water was rough. He knew it would be. And freezing. He knew that, too. 
The life jacket he had failed to buckle—a purposeful action this time, though it was unclear what his intentions had been exactly six years ago, even to himself—buoyed him just long enough for Alex to have joined him in the water. But a particularly large wave set it free from his torso, and it sailed away, and he was on his own to float. Or not float. 
It was strange, knowing how to swim this time around—he wondered if it’d affect them getting out of the memory. Would he have to pretend to drown? 
He didn’t remember much of what happened after he had jumped—he remembered the cold. The emptiness. But not much else, until the next morning, when he had woken up in the hospital with his parents beside him. 
But how long he had been in the water for before the rescue boat his friends had called had found him, he wasn’t sure. It couldn’t have been long—he could see the lights, now. So close… 
He closed his eyes as water surged up his nose, rushing down his throat. Eyes blurry, blinking back the waves as his head was tossed to and fro, his body like a rag doll as his recently developed instincts fought to stay loose. 
But even in the water’s violence, he found that peace had somehow overtaken his mind. A black calm, easing into the edges of his vision. But surely that meant now, now, this would be over, they would be back in the maze. When he opened his eyes, they’d be back in Stardew… 
Something grabbed his foot. 
He jerked upright. 
“Al—Alex?” 
But the other man was nowhere to be found. 
Had he stayed on the boat? 
A well-placed wave sent him sprawling back towards it, almost slamming him into the hull, but no—Alex wasn’t there. 
Somewhere in the water then, surely—but there was no one but him in the neon blue radius of the light.
“Alex?” 
 His hands reached for the slippery sides of the boat. It was hard treading water with one good arm. And was the water getting even rougher? All this jostling; even with his recently acquired swimming skills, he found it more difficult than he remembered to catch his breath.
Suddenly, he felt once again something tug him sharply down by the foot. And this time, it didn’t let go. 
Water once again rushed his mouth as he fought to keep his head above the waves. Feet kicking, arms flailing, his broken hand slamming into boat in desperation for something to cling to as the water rose higher and higher; every breath came with a choking swallow of lake water, and it was cold, so, so, cold—
Fuck. 
This wasn’t right. Clearly, you fucking idiot this isn’t right— 
“Help!” he managed to shout in the half a second he was able to keep his ahead above water. “Please!” 
Fuck, this isn’t real, who the hell is going to help you—
It isn’t real. 
It isn’t real. 
Perhaps he ought to… go along with it. Whatever it was. 
Another tug on his foot. 
This time, he didn’t fight back. Let himself be dragged under the water, down down into the depths below. 
*****
Cold. Blue. Suffocating blue. 
And yet, strangely enough, he could breathe. Or perhaps it wasn’t strange after all, given, again, none of this is real. 
His screams were lost in the water as whatever invisible force continued to drag him deeper into the inky, empty oblivion below. Darker and darker it became, claustrophobic in its vast, unknown emptiness, until he couldn’t see a damn thing either above or below. 
And then a small thud. The lakebed. Sandy and soft beneath his feet. He took a second to gather himself and found that he could stand. 
Then a small glow. A few feet ahead, though not nearly bright enough to permeate the surrounding darkness. Neon blue it was, like the light of the boat that must’ve still been drifting above. 
He bounded slowly across the silt towards it. Half-buried in the sand was a glass bottle—or, was it glass? 
Better not be radioactive, he couldn’t help but think, as he gently slid the glowing glass from the lakebed. 
Oh. 
Strange.
He knew this bottle… and it wasn’t glass. What had Maru called it? Some sort of… polycarbonate? Some special polymer? Something like that… 
For it was the bottle from the Summer Luau event, from Demetrius and Maru’s study of the Gem Sea currents. He uncorked it. Yes, there it was. The little notecard detailing the experiment, the postcard for folks to mail where they had found the bottles wash up. And the letter he had written. 
Man, that seemed almost a lifetime ago…
He unfurled it, mostly out of curiosity. But it was blank. 
He flipped it over. Blank there too. 
Weird. 
He went to shove it back into the bottle. There were other, bigger, problems on hand now, like how the fuck do I get out of here, when a sickening, poisonous chill began to trickle from the top of his head, down through each and every vein. 
“You didn’t leave a note. Tell me why.”  
Achilles turned. Slowly, his hand clawing at the tight ache that had suddenly dispersed from the center of his chest. 
“What are you talking about? I wrote a note.” He fought to keep his voice steady, though he couldn’t stop his right hand from trembling as it rested atop his breast. “Just a stupid little love letter to no one. Though I suppose I can’t blame you for forgetting, it was before I had pneumonia, you parasite.” 
The Shadow King moved closer into the light of the bottle clenched tightly in Achilles’ left hand. “Ah. You’re right, of course. I apologize. It becomes difficult when you’ve lived as many lives as I have. One has a tendency to… mix things up.” 
“Why are you here?” 
“Oh, just thought I’d pay you a visit.” The Shadow King was only a foot away now, its shrouded figure seemed… lacking, up close. Wispier. Weaker than the last time they had encountered each other. Nevertheless, the cold continued to emanate from its blackness, invisible, bone-chilling tendrils through the water. “I didn’t expect to feel your presence in the Astral Plane so soon, you can’t blame me for being… curious. I told you I liked you, didn’t I? It wasn’t hard to track you down, the stench of your sorrow was simply irresistible, and it didn’t too take much magic to reweave Rasmodius’ spell just a bit, bring you here…” 
“You brought me here?” 
“To this specific memory? Oh yes. Just a little reminder to better prepare you for the days to come. Consider it a parting gift, for I don’t believe we’ll be seeing each other again in your life time… and one good gift deserves another, so for myself, I request you answer this: why didn’t you leave a note?”
Achilles crumpled the furled letter from the bottle in his hand, shoving it towards the Shadow King. “I told you—”
“I mean six years ago, Achilles. Why did you not leave a note? It’s a question that I’ve had since our time together, it seemed rather… out of character. In fact, if you’ll forgive me, the whole situation felt rather out of character.” 
Ah. 
Achilles’ arm dropped to his side, but he kept his chin up defiantly, though his eyes couldn’t help but dart away, down to the lakebed. “Why would I have written a note? I was taking the boat out for a swim—” 
“You didn’t know how to swim.” 
Achilles rolled his eyes. “It’s a turn of phrase, bitch, I had a life jacket on—” 
“Oh, but you should’ve known the water was too rough for that.” 
“It was dark. I was drunk. I didn’t know what I was doing—“ 
“No.” The Shadow King smiled and shook its head. “No, no. You knew exactly what you were doing. You chose to leave it up to chance on purpose. Like I said, quite unlike you… 
“So, so, sad you were, after Eddie Bloomsbury’s review of your novel. Pathetic. Embarrassing, really. And more than pales in comparison to what your companion tonight had to deal with growing up—oh yes, I was watching him, too, I sent you two there tonight as well—and yet, it was your pungent griefthat attracted me here. Tell me, what have you got to be so sad about, Achilles?
“Always have to be the center of attention, even in your despair. You’re insufferable. Impatient. All your years living a life others could only ever dream of, and one setback sends you and your fragile ego spiraling down, down, down… 
“You knew you what you were doing, drunk as you were. What did you want, Achilles? So obsessed with fate and destiny, and so, so naively convinced that you were worth more than what they were giving you credit for, but too much of a coward to commit to pulling the trigger yourself because a small sliver of you still believed you were someone who mattered. You just needed proof. Needed the sign off from the universe. So you left it up to chance. 
“If you survived, that had to mean there was some greater purpose awaiting you here, wasn’t there? Why else keep you around?
“And if you didn’t, well… it’s what you deserved. Clearly you weren’t worth enough to be missed.
“Lucky for you—or perhaps, not so lucky—you survived your little drunken sojourn into the water. But the world doesn’t work like that, there was no deal made, no bargain — you knew that in your heart, of course, that your survival meant nothing. But your bruised ego had somehow still convinced you it was a sign that you could still be… someone.
“Laughable. Truly, how does anyone stand you? Those people you call your friends—oh, but you know. You’re constantly thinking about them. How they see you. If they think about you. How they think about you. But they pity you, Achilles. When they’re not laughing at you, they look down upon you with the disdain you deserve…
“Six years went by and you remained… unremarkable. I mean, anyone can rise through the ranks of Corporate Ferngill if they try hard enough. You realized this, of course. Your lack of exceptionalism. But instead of accepting it, you chose to abandon that ship for a new one. Surely something… sparklier, so to say,would work out. But grandpa’s old farm was doomed from the start to sink even faster than BRLO had for you. You were drowning, refusing to let go of your pride, and weighed down by your own mediocrity. 
“It was happening again, wasn’t it? All the anxiety. The pain. The emptiness. After your busy little Spring this past year, Summer really left you out to dry… no plan, no purpose… you didn’t stand a chance. 
“You didn’t write a note back then, but you considered writing one this past Summer, did you not? At the Luau, choosing between your little love letter and, what did you call it at the time, your… letter of distress? A broken heart of sorts in both, in a way…” 
Here, Achilles, who had been stunned into silence finally found a foothold in the facts, and in turn, his voice. Through gritted teeth, he managed, “A silly little message in a bottle is hardly comparable, I think, to—”
The letter in his hand interrupted him as it began to brighten even more—instinctually, he unfurled it, and where it had once been blank was now a neatly bulleted list. But while he recognized his own jagged handwriting, he didn’t recognize the words. Or, at least, not in the context of where they sat on the page. 
A cursory glance was enough to confirm he’d never put them to paper. Achilles tore his eyes away, holding the letter up now to the Shadow King. “This is wrong. It isn’t what I wrote last Summer, I told you, I didn’t choose this.” 
“No. As you said before, you ultimately chose your heart over your mind with that silly love note of yours—he doesn’t care for for you, by the way, though I’m sure you know that—but even so… you couldn’t escape those unpenned thoughts, could you? We’ll call it… the note not taken.” Here, the Shadow King laughed lightly. “Those words have always been with you, and they will always continue to be.”
He couldn’t help it. Achilles unfolded the parchment.
The Shadow King was right. He may never have put the words to paper, but had they not been engraved on every inch of his brain for the past six years? And now, here they were, in tangible form glowing blue on a piece of parchment under a lake. 
Who do you think you are? 
Why are you here? 
What do you want? 
Worthless. Pathetic. Disappointing. 
As his eyes glazed over, frozen in fury and shame, the Shadow King spoke again. 
“Why, why, why is it so difficult for you to accept that you are simply not one destined for greatness? When will you realize that you simply don’t deserve anything more? 
“Oh, but like I said before, though, I tried to help you… tried to show you something new, something better. But it wasn’t enough, and instead of being grateful, you sided with that Wizard and that girl and you turned against me. Disappointing. Always disappointing… what do you want, Achilles? What. Do. You. Want?” 
The Shadow King began to loom larger, dimming the light in Achilles’ hands until he could no longer read the letter. The neon blue had turned to an inky midnight, and Achilles now felt, rather than saw, the spirit move closer until it was but a hair’s breadth away from his ear. Its voice, still sweet and smooth as silk, softened seamlessly as the surrounding current began to swell. 
“Nothing? No answers for me? No matter. I will tell you what I want.
“I want you to suffer. Like how my people and I will have to suffer for the next hundred years because of you and that girl. I hope the heroic part you finally were able to play in the unweaving of my world brings you peace. Though… was it heroic? It was really Abigail that did most of the work, was it not…
“I want you to remember those feelings from this night six years ago as you continue to drown again in your hopelessness and your despair and your loneliness and your shame. You are worthless. You are nothing. And you will never be content.” 
A pause. The shadow brute seemed to retract, and with it, the water began to warm to its previous temperature. 
“If you decide to try again, well… I do hope you won’t leave it up to chance this time, Achilles. I don’t want you missing out again on what it is you deserve. You can’t leave matters of life and death to luck.” A low chuckle. “Remember, you have to really commit to get what you want—isn’t that what you always say, anyway?” 
And with those words, the Shadow King melted into the darkness. 
*****
“Achilles? Achilles—”
He opened his eyes, but everything was blurry as he gazed groggily up at the moonlit sky above. He was stretched out on hard, solid ground.
Grass. His hands were touching grass. He was out, he was free, what had happened—
A flash of violet appeared above him, and with that, a jumble of memories from the past week came flooding back to him and in a sudden, adrenaline-fueled nimbleness, he jumped to his feet and, in one sweeping motion, wrenched the collar of the violet figure before him. 
“What the fuck was that?” With his good hand, Achilles slammed the unsuspecting Wizard into the nearest hedge as onlookers gasped. “Does that get you off? Exploiting the worst shit in people’s lives—”
“Achilles—”
The pleading voice was coming from behind him, for Rasmodius had stayed silent. The Wizard likely could’ve hurled him off with a twirl of his fingers and lavender smoke, but he hadn’t moved a muscle to defend himself, instead staring intently into Achilles’ half-mad eyes that were currently burning with fury. 
“—doing your dirty work down in the mines when you were too fucking—”
“—Achilles—”
“—told me it was my fucking destiny, when it was all a fucking lie because you were too much of a coward to do it yourself—”
“Achilles—” 
Arms enveloped him from behind, pulling him back from Rasmodius who remained pinned against the hedge. A whiff of oranges, and a warm breath behind his ear. 
Achilles’ protest died in his mouth. And with it, his energy, which plummeted as quickly as it had come after he had woken. His knees were threatening to crumple as exhaustion instantly replaced this sudden exertion, and it took Alex’s tight grip beneath his arms to keep him standing.  
The small crowd of onlookers watched him curiously, but he was too weary to hit them back with a glare. He could see Mayor Lewis in the corner, his mustache bristling with rage. No doubt he’d get a lecture tomorrow… 
“Come on, Ash.” Alex’s voice was a murmur in his ear. 
He gave a jerky nod and stumbled for the exit, his arm now swung over Alex’s shoulders. The festival was still in full swing, the town square illuminated even more brightly than before by candles and lanterns. Children were running amok with caramel apples and bags of candy. Folks were lining up for the costume contest, laughing and exchanging carnival prizes as they waited. 
Achilles wanted none of it. 
*****
He collapsed onto his porch steps with a heavy thump. Alex took a gentler approach, but followed suit, stretching his legs out in front of them. 
“What happened in there?” he whispered, though it was only just the two of them for a mile in all directions. “I got back to the maze as soon as I hit the water, but you… you were like, knocked out, or something, man. I couldn’t wake you up, had to carry you out of there…” 
“I just… I don’t know…” Achilles’ nose was beginning to twitch, but he ignored it to bury his head between his knees instead, hands clasped atop his hair. “Fuck. You had to carry me out?”
“Don’t worry, most people are still in the maze, there weren’t many witnesses.” Alex’s seemed to be working to smother a small smile. He scooted closer, bumping Achilles’ hip with his own. “You know, we actually made really good time. Didn’t break a record, but, still, top 10—“
Perhaps it was Alex’s assumption that Achilles would care about witnesses that triggered it. Or perhaps it was Achilles’ realization of how obvious—how pathetically obvious and ridiculous—it was that he did,actually, care. 
Whichever it was, his body must’ve been two steps ahead, instinctually leaning into Alex’s shoulder just as a strangled cry burst from his chest. 
“Oh— oh, shit—fuck— Achilles—” 
He almost wanted to laugh as Alex, clearly caught off guard, scrambled to lift his cape to make room. He drew Achilles in closer, somewhat hesitatingly at first; but perhaps encouraged by Achilles’ lack of resistance, he tightened his embrace and began to rub the back of his head, his trembling back and shoulders. 
For what felt like hours, Achilles traded off rasping gasps and sobs into Alex’s chest, his shaking fist clenching the folds of the cape as snot and uncurbed tears—tears that had been dammed up by denial for months, perhaps even years at this point, he couldn’t remember the last time he had cried—streamed down his face. It was damp, and raw, and loud, and above all else, he couldn’t help but think, gross, but for perhaps the first time in Achilles’ life, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He could barely even think— sorrow like this brought with it its own special sort of absentmindedness, and in his nebulous search to find reason, he struggled to pierce through the thick and syrupy clouds of his mind. 
Was it anger? Frustration? Sorrow? Perhaps simply overdue exhaustion finally catching up to him.
Yoba, what was wrong with him? What was he even grieving? What was there even to grieve? 
*****
He woke with his head nestled in Alex’s lap. 
“Fuck.” He jumped up, sending the cape Alex must’ve lain on him to the ground. But a breaking wave of dizziness sent him crashing into the railing, the post nailing him right in the gut. “Ow, fuck—I’m so sorry—I didn’t realize—”
“Achilles, it’s fine—”
“I must’ve fallen asleep—the festival—”
“Achilles—”
“I’m so sorry—I kept you—you should head back—”
“Ash, it’s ok. It was only a few minutes.” Alex picked up his cape and stood, leaning against the railing on the opposite side of the stairs. “Listen. You can still hear it.” 
He was right. Even from this distance, he could make out the music of the merry go round. A simmering white noise of chatter. The occasional scream, yes, but always followed by peals of bright laughter.
Yoba, he felt like he’d never laugh again.
“Do you… want to talk about it?” Alex asked softly, taking a small step towards him. 
What even was “it?” 
A five minute nap hadn’t been enough to quell the pain and crippling exhaustion that seemed to have taken up permanent residence deep in the marrow Achilles’ bones. He re-widened the gap between them and sat back down, this time in one of the rocking chairs, and wiped his swollen, sticky face with the salty palms of his hands. “I… no. Not now. I’m… tired. Sorry.” 
“Don’t apologize, that’s okay.” 
“I should just…” Achilles sighed and stood again. Fuck, just make up your mind, bitch. “I think I should go to bed.” 
“Oh. Yeah, of course.”  
With a curt nod, Achilles made for the door, but Alex spoke again.
“Ash…” So soft. Achilles wasn’t quite sure Alex had actually even spoken his name.
“Hmm?” He turned to see Alex still on the porch watching him, biting his lip as he slowly reclasped the cape he had detached earlier to drape over Achilles. 
“Would you… like me to stay the night? It doesn’t feel right to… leave you alone.” 
Oh Yoba… Tears began to well again in his eyes, but Achilles blinked them rapidly away, grateful for the screen door’s warped shadow on his face. What a ridiculous thought, like Alex hadn’t just watched him sob his brains out for half an hour…
Of course he wanted Alex to spend the night. He wanted his comfort and his warmth and to feel his heart beat against his chest. He wanted Alex to hold him and to tell him how he learned to make peace with his past. 
But Achilles shook his head. 
Another night, perhaps, Alex’s offer would’ve sent him into a rosy-hazed tailspin. But tonight, the words had only elicited the barest tingle of a drumbeat in that dull, hollow ache in Achilles’ chest. He needed to be alone. To sit with himself and untangle the vicious knots in his head for once and for all. 
Alex’s steady gaze became too much. There was an intimacy in his eyes—different from the nervous, bright-eyed glances and half touches that had been mystifying Achilles throughout the day’s events, and far from romantic—and Achilles, seized with sudden, overwhelming gratitude for his friend, had to look away. 
“I’m fine.” The words caught in his throat. “Really. I promise.” 
Then he paused, his hand resting on the doorknob for several seconds before he turned back to Alex. 
“I had a good time, you know. Tonight. Today. Really. Besides the maze, everything else was… great. Top tier birthday. Thank you.” 
“Ash…” 
“I’m serious. I mean, let’s take a step back, look at the wider picture.” Achilles shoved his hands in his pockets, forced a toothy grin amidst still-puffy cheeks. “Apparently, I’m not allowed to have good birthdays in Stardew Valley. Got blackout drunk at Emily’s, got pneumonia at yours… Something really had to get fucked up tonight, right? Only tradition.” 
Alex laughed lightly, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Are you sure?” 
He moved closer, but Achilles turned back to address the door. 
“Yes. I just… really want to be alone, I think. For a bit. But I appreciate it.” 
“Well… all right… I’ll get back then, grandpa’s probably… wondering where I’ve been. But you can call me, you know. Anytime. If you want something. Food. To chat. To watch TV. Anything, I don’t know…”
Achilles managed another smile—this one small, but genuine—and turned the knob. A little meow and Voltaire’s bushy tail greeted him, and he turned to wave. 
“Happy birthday, Achilles.” 
Alex lingered on the porch for a minute more before finally flashing a soft smile of his own and jogging away, cape fluttering behind him. 
2 notes · View notes
starlightxsvt · 3 years
Text
3 dates | c.sc
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pairing ➳ badboy!Seungcheol x female!reader
genre ➳ badboy au, romance, some fluff, angst, bad attempt at humour, gets spicy at the end.
word count ➳ 12.4k+ (i have NO idea how this became so long so strap in for a ride)
warnings ➳ cursing, mentions of killing, mentions criminal activities, slight violence(non explicit), smoking, ma man Seungcheol ain't your typical badboy, self doubt, blackmailing, reader does all sorts of risky things cuz she's a SIMP, blood(nothing explicit), kissing, marking, some breast worshipping, grinding, reader is horny lol. (Please lemme know if I forgot anything.)
synopsis ➳ after one fateful encounter with him you cannot get him out of your head. so you opt to do some crazy things to catch his attention and even snag a few dates with him. only trouble is he isn't the type to stay after the whole disposition is over.
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Swirling the third drink in your hand you heave yet another depressed sigh. You are so tired that you feel like you can just slump on the counter and pass out. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to stop for a drink, you alcohol riddled brain thinks.
The plans you had with Katelyn was cancelled last moment; she called to tell you that her thesis submission date was moved forward and so she couldn't hang out with you tonight. You're in the middle of an existential crisis quite literally, the too many part time jobs yet still lack of money and copious amounts of study getting to you. Staring hard at your drink you contemplate if it is worth giving up on college and your dream of becoming an arts major. It sure feels tempting right now, the long hours at the diner and not enough sleep at night proving to be the worst nuisance.
Sighing you put down your drink. It's still early, you should go home and try to catch up on the much needed sleep. You really had no intention of grabbing a drink tonight; you have morning classes tomorrow but you made a last moment decision to stop for a drink on your way back home. You didn't take your usual route to home today, and while trudging through the streets tiredly you came across this bar called Seventeen's. You've heard stories about this place, how it is the home to local gangs and how it's bad people's turf and what not. Your curiosity, probably too much of that made you get inside for a drink even though all the bones in your body ached. The inside is what you expected, nowhere near fancy but dingy, just decent enough. The people inside didn't look friendly and if the chains and tattoos on them gave any indication you'd say the rumours are true; this is the turf of gangs. The drinks taste decent, not the best but not the worst and from the overall look of this place you don't really have a reason to come back.
You're about to stand up from your stool when a large, clammy hand grabs your wrist out of nowhere, making you jump. "Hey sexy, sit down. Let me buy you a drink," the owner of the hand, a large, tattooed middle aged man slurs making your nose scrunch out of disgust. You're wearing nothing that can be called sexy; a plain cardigan and jeans and the way he looks you up and down makes you want to poke his eyes out.
You really shouldn't have come here. Clenching your jaw, you meet his eyes, "What makes you think I'm interested to have a drink with you?"
"Oh come on, why would you be here then, lookin' all nice? Just sit down," the man drawls, an ugly smile on his face. He still hasn't let go of your wrist and it's making you impatient. Looks like you're gonna have to kick his balls tonight. Maybe the self defense classes didn't completely go to waste.
"Get your disgusting hands off me while I'm being nice, sleazeball," you hiss at him, trying to get his hand off. The man stands up growling, "What did you say you bitch?" You're preparing to break his nose when out of nowhere a punch lands on his face that sends him tumbling to the ground. The attacker gets on top of him and twists his arm and you can literally hear a bone snap.
Shit.
"I think she said she is not interested," the man hisses, landing yet another another hit on his face before kicking his groin and getting up. When he turns around and his eyes meet yours, your heart skips a few beats and you almost The man is drop dead gorgeous, someone you would not expect to see here but probably on the cover of a high end magazine. His blond hair is long, crossing the nape of his neck as well as some covering his forehead. What takes your breath away the most is his eyes, the most beautiful pair you've ever seen. They seem to have their own galaxies in them, so deep and mesmerising and decorated with lashes long enough to make you jealous. His dress up, black jacket and jeans, immediately tells you what he is; a gang member.
"You should get home, lady," He speaks in a no nonsense tone, his face cold as ice. But you're offended. "Excuse me? Who are you calling lady? You make it sound like I'm old." You puff your cheeks and cross your arms, trying to appear intimidating. "Besides I had the situation under control, you didn't need to butt in." The man keeps looking at you with that no nonsense look, his features displaying annoyance if you are right and he's clearly not intimidated. The dude on the floor grunts and makes an effort to get up, only to be kicked by your saviour once more. "Hey Mingyu, get him out of here. What was this piece of trash doing here anyway?" The man orders to someone before turning to look at you, "Do you live far?"
"Uh- no, a ten minutes walk from here maybe," you reply unsurely, surprised at his question. The blond haired man nods before grabbing your wrist, "I'll walk you home. Hurry up, lady." You have a feeling he's purposely calling you that and though you start following him out of the bar, you make grunts of protest.
"Oh yeah, why? Trying to find out my address? So you can come later and hurt me like that guy?" You would not be this brazen if it wasn't for the alcohol in your system, after all the man next you isn't a friendly one if the rumours are true. The man raises a brow at you, "Did you do something that requires me to beat you up?" You hiccup at his serious tone. Does he not get a joke? He lets go of your hand now that you're at a safe distance from the bar but still stays close enough to you as your steps are rather stumbling and messy. You aren't fully drunk but your body is tired and feels like will shut down any second.
You really need some sleep.
"You know I'm not that drunk. You don't have to walk me home." You complain. "I'm walking you home because this isn't a nice place you should be alone at night. What happened earlier could happen again." He says not looking at you. "Mhmm," you keep on trudging behind him, "Thank you so much for your kind gesture, sir." You mock him but he doesn't reply, staring straight ahead, completely ignoring you as he walks quietly. In silence you two walk the rest of the path, before finally stopping as your apartment comes into view. At this point it feels like your bones will break and you will plop down on the concrete any second, but you manage to keep standing. "Well, thanks for walking me home." You shift your weight from one foot to another. "And for helping me back there." He shrugs coolly, a bored expression on his face. He's turning to walk away when you call, "Hey- I didn't get your name."
"What do you need it for?" He side glances at you. You shrug, "I don't know. You helped me so I thought it'd be nice to know your name." "You don't need to. Go inside, lady." He says, his tone final and starts marching away. You wait a couple moments before yelling, "Asshole!" and quickly rushing inside your building, partly afraid he's gonna come back.
You won't be surprised if you get killed tonight.
-
"So you are telling me Choi Seungcheol walked you home?" Katelyn screams in your ear, jolting up from her seat, earning glares from other people at the library in the process. "That's his name?" You whisper-yell, grabbing her hand to pull her back down. "I'm guessing from the blond hair you said," Katelyn shrugs. "Uh huh." You mean back in your chair, "He was hot though."
"Is that seriously all you have to say?" Katelyn whines exasperatedly. "No, I mean, if it wasn't for the way he dresses or talks I would have thought he's a model or something." You murmur.
"Are you sure he didn't hurt you?" Katelyn questions. "Hell no!" You frown. "He saved me from that creepy old dude. I was surprised too. I wish I didn't drink so much, I could have gotten a better look at his face," you sigh. "Seriously?" Katelyn raises a brow at you.
"Girl, you should have seen him. His aura and the way he carried himself was...so hot." You grin to yourself. Katelyn watches you like you've grown two heads. "Are you trying to tell me you have a crush on that gangster?" You smile sheepishly, "Maybe, I mean it's harmless. He was broody yet charming and I'm a girl so.... Also, it's not like he likes me too and is gonna come running whenever I ask him to bang me." You mutter.
"Oh he's gonna break your bones and bang your skull against a wall. That's what he's gonna do."
"Come on! Maybe he isn't so bad. Maybe the rumours are just rumours. Maybe he just looks intimidating and dresses up like that and people thinks he's a gangster." "Really? His name is on every bad thing that happens around here. From illegal racing to murders. Do you know that people say he has killed too?" "Like I said, rumours," you shrug being your stubborn self. Katelyn holds her hands up in surrender, "You know what? It doesn't matter. I'm glad you're alive so let's just put this behind us, shall we?" You don't reply but wiggle your brows at her, a conspirational look on your face. "Oh no, don't look at me like that," Katelyn warns. "Let's go to that bar tonight. Please?" You give her your best puppy eyes. "What are you? Fucking crazy? You wanna get killed?" She whisper-yells, scowling at you. "No. I just wanna take another look at him. Without the alcohol in my system you know. Besides, the place isn't that bad." You reply.
"Well then get killed by yourself. I'm not coming with you."
"I'll help you with your papers for the rest of the semester."
"Shit."
-
"Well, looks like your wish won't be coming true," Katelyn muses chugging down her fourth glass as you keep playing with your first one. It's nearing an hour since you've come to the bar and there has been no sign of the man you desperately seek. The place is exactly like it was the other day, filled with people who you wouldn't want to mess with.
Yet here you are.
"Let's call it a night," Katelyn sighs. "We're just wasting our time." You know that too but you don't want to leave; not just yet. You are well aware that this is just pathetic but you've this crazy urge to see that man once again. You don't know why you feel this way; you never felt like this before. Why are thinking yourself to death about a complete stranger? Has some kind of spell been casted on you?
"Yeah, let's get going," you murmur half heartedly. You help your friend stand up as she's a little wobbly on her feet and together you make your way through the door. "Should we call a cab?" You ask Katelyn. She shakes her head no and you nod, you arms wrapped around hers to support her in case she looses her balance. You start stepping away from the bar and towards the road to her place until a noise from behind makes you stop in your tracks.
"Did you hear that?" You ask, whipping your head behind. There's no one around and the street is mostly dark other than the light flashing from the name of the bar. You hear the sound once again and this time you can locate where it's coming from. There's an abandoned playground at the back of the bar and you've a feeling that's the source.
Katelyn hisses as she sees you step towards there. "What are you doing!"
"Didn't you hear that?"
"Yes I did. That's why I say we leave!" You ignore her and cautiously keep on stepping forward, mentally cursing yourself for wearing heels. Katelyn follows behind you murmuring all kinds of warnings. "You know curiosity killed the cat, right?" She whispers.
You roll your eyes, "Well I'm not a cat. Just- be quiet. It can be nothing." You both move past the bar gingerly and towards the playground at the back. There are old gallons of oil and abandoned materials just around the corner and you two quickly hide among them. It takes you a while to get adjusted to the low light after you poke your head up from the hiding spot.
You're eyes fix on him immediately. His blond hair makes him easily recognisable amid the darkness. There is a few more people around him, all kicking something in the ground. Not something, but someone. The man lying on the ground groans in pain and you realize this is what you both heard. "Shit," You hear Katelyn curse from beside you. "We need to get going." Instead of replying, you keep your eyes trained on the scene unfolding, holding your breath. You're tranced. Seungcheol lands continuous punched on the guy laying below him and after a moment his writhing frame seems to stop moving as it falls limp.
Fuck.
"You know in movies this is the part where people get caught." Katelyn whispers, her voice hoarse and her hand clutching yours in a tugging motion. "Uh-huh. But I can't seem to move. I wonder if he's... really dead." You whisper back. "Are you fucking crazy!" She hisses. "You wanna witness murder?"
Before you can reply you hear a sound that echoes through the empty field and it takes a second for you two to realise that it came from any one of you two. You don't have the time to figure out who made it as you both are crawling away from the playground without looking back, head crouched low to avoid being seen. You don't know if they heard that or if they're coming behind you, you both just keep scrambling, moving until you're past the corner. As soon as possible you both get on your feet and run like the grim reaper is chasing you, stopping only when you are far enough from the bar.
"I am never listening to you again!" Katelyn yells.
-
It's been a good few days since your near death experience and you somehow find yourself in front of that bar once again. You and Katelyn have not brought up that incident after that night. You made yourself believe that it was over and came to a conclusion that it is better to forget that man and leave all of it behind, no matter how much your heart disagreed. But it's easier said than done; you may not mention him out loud but in the back of your mind you think of him. He's like a ghost, haunting you all the time, plagueing your thoughts when you go to bed at night. It felt like he was ever existent and there was an itch in your heart that drove you insane.
Maybe that's why your subconscious brought you here, in front of Seventeen's, once again. You were on your way back home from library and you thought you took your usual route, until you realized you were standing in front of that place. But what is even terrifying is that the man haunting your mind stands in front of the entrance of the bar and you blink a few times to make sure you are not hallucinating. He's leaned against the entrance door, cigarette between his lips and from his pocket he fetches a lighter to light the poison in his mouth.
Damn, lighting up a cigarette never looked this sexy.
He hasn't seen you yet and you contemplate running the other way. That's the sensible thing to do but you, not being a sensible person, start walking towards him. Your footsteps make him look up and notice you and like the last time, there is no expression on his face. It's the same bored yet handsome face except now in daylight you can take a better look at him and this time, you notice a little mole on the left of his face, by his nose. Realising he's gonna stay silent you decide to speak, "Hi... It's me... Do you remember me?" Wow. That's such an intelligent thing to ask.
With the monotoned yet serious expression on his face, he goes, "Why won't I? I don't have Alzheimer's."
So he can joke.
You laugh, an awkward, probably exaggerated laugh. "What are you doing here? Did you not learn your lesson last time?" He cuts to the chase, his voice brassy and deep, almost threatening. You want to roll your eyes. "Who are you to say? I can be wherever I want whenever I want, thank you very much." "Well then, have fun getting in trouble like last time." He's nonchalant as he blows a smoke right past you and stands up straight, turning away. "Wait!" You almost grab his hand, desperate to stop him.
What is wrong with you? Your subconscious slaps her forehead. What are you holding him back for? To say 'hello sir, I think you're hot, can you please put your dick inside me'? Seungcheol turns his head back, his eyebrow cocked up.
Why do you find everything about him so attractive?
"Um...I know your name, Seungcheol." You speak, trying to sound intimidating, like knowing his name gives you some power over him. There's something definitely wrong with you which is why you don't want him to leave just yet and which is why you're stalling time. But it seems to have done the job as he pulls the cigarette out of his mouth and turns towards you, an annoyed look on his face. "How do you know that?" The timbre of his tone is deep and it rakes shivers down your spine. "Well, you've built quite a reputation for yourself so it isn't hard to get your name." You shrug coolly. "Well, if you know so much about my reputation, you should know what I'm capable of." His lone is low, almost threating as he starts to take slow steps towards you making you step back out of reflex.
Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Maybe you will also end up like the curious cat.
"Oh yes, I know. People have got a lot to say about you," you try to sound unfazed, not meeting his eyes that you feel are burning holes on your face. "What are you doing here, lady?" he asks slowly, pausing between each word and glaring at you as he continues to step forward. You can feel his patience thinning.
"I swear to God if you call me that-"
"What are you doing here?" This time his tone is scary, too scary. It makes you lose the ability to speak for a second as his dark gaze bores into you. He has backed you up against the wall behind you and you swallow. Right, what are you doing here? It probably has something to do with a very hot individual and his insanely attractive aura. Scratch that you are a hundred percent sure it has something to do with the blond haired, enticing man in front of you. He's driving you mad and you need to get your fill of him.
"Go out with me," you state and you are sure you've never spoken words more stupid than that. Internally, you cringe and pray that the ground below you would open and take you straight to the fiery pits.
This is the first time you see some sort of expression come across his face; surprise. He looks utterly shocked and somewhat confused. His mouth opens just a little and he squints at you, "What?"
There's no going back now.
"Go out with me. Let's go on three dates." you say once more, looking him in the eye. He seems to appear even more surprised, a dumbstruck look sitting on his face. He observes you quietly for a while and you can feel the gears in his head shifting. You wonder what he's gonna say next. Or maybe he won't say anything but bang your head on the wall and leave you to die alone. "I'm sorry I'm not following," he looks genuinely perplexed. "I want to go on three dates with you. They say after three dates you can figure out whether you like that person or not and I think I like you so..."
I think I like you.
The biggest understatement of the year.
Seungcheol tilts his head, an amused expression on his face as he studies you, those sharp eyes of his settling on yours, "What is your deal, sweetheart?" He crosses his arms, a brow raised. Sweetheart? That's new. And definitely better than lady. You can't deny how hearing him call you that makes your insides melt. "Nothing. I just want to date you," you shrug, trying to keep your wits together. His proximity is driving you wild; you can sniff a faint smell of cologne and cigarette, him being inches away from you. This time he laughs loudly, a mocking laugh you'd say. "Who sent you?"
Oh my god.
You roll your eyes. "Nobody sent me! Do I look like I'm a gang member or something?" "Then I don't see a reason why you'd want to date me," He states, throwing a challenging look at you.
"What if I said I have a thing for bad boys?"
He snorts. "You don't look the type to date bad boys," he mocks. "Who are you to say that?" You cross your arms. "I want to date you because I think you're hot, okay?" You can not believe you just said that. Looks like you don't have control over your mouth anymore. Warmth spreads throughout your face like a forest fire.
Seungcheol narrows his eyes on you, his tongue poking his cheek as he stands in front of you as if trying to read your mind. After a beat he sighs before looking at you, his eyes becoming darker than usual and his gaze unforgiving. "Hey. Does it look like I'm playing house here? Do you have any idea about the shit I do? The dirty work I do? I don't care if you have a fucking fetish or whatever but this is the last time I'm warning you. I don't want to see you around again. If I see you here once more, you're in fucking trouble," he spits and starts stomping away. His tone is serious and you know very well he is not joking, which is why you use your last resort. You're embarrassed at yourself for being so desperate but at the same time you feel shameless. It has almost turned into a game at this point, you want to make him surrender. That's right, you want him to give in. "You shouldn't be like that with me. I saw you, a few days ago. That night, when you and your friends were beating up that guy...in the playground," you casually stroll to come stand right behind him.
You can't believe you are blackmailing a gangster. Your death must be near.
Seungcheol whips his head back, his eyes glaring at you and you can almost see fire in them. Finally, you got his attention.
"My friend also saw it, we both did. You killed him, didn't you? Me and my friend witnessed a murder. What do you say? Should we go to the station?" You can see his jaw clench and you can't hold back a victorious smirk. Moments pass by as your words hang in the air and the tension between you gets thicker. Yet once more he surprises you, breaking the silence with a chuckle, "Well I killed one person, what makes you think I can't take care of another?"
You swallow.
"Well, my friend already knows so if I go missing you can be sure that the cops will come to you first." You throw back at him.
When did you get so wreckless?
Seungcheol stares at you for a few more seconds before shrugging and moving his hand dismissively, "Well then go tell the cops. I don't give a shit." He starts walking back to the bar leaving you starstruck. He stops and turns towards you before opening the door, "Also, I meant it. I hope I don't see you around. Otherwise I may just have to hurt that pretty face."
-
You don't show up after that.
Mostly because you are embarasssed.
It's been a good while after your last encounter with Seungcheol and you didn't go to the police, obviously. Because you don't have evidence and from what you've heard Seungcheol is pretty influential around here and you don't need to go to an extent to get on his bad side. You're definitely gonna end up dead if you do so, which you don't want just yet.
Classes have just finished and you and Katelyn step out of the classroom together, walking through the hallways and into the main campus. She rambles on about some bad sushi she ate yesterday while your mind remains preoccupied. Maybe you need to get laid. Maybe that'll make you forget about Seungcheol. You just need good dick that's probably why you were so desperate for him.
That's just a stupid lie.
You don't realise Katelyn is calling you until she shakes you by the shoulder and you snap back into reality. You notice her face is as pale as a ghost and following her line of sight your eyes stop on him.
Him. Seungcheol.
What?
You double take, blinking furiously to confirm your vision. He's standing there, in the parking area of your uni, leaned against a convertible Ferrari, a cigarette between his lips. He looks relaxed, like he does this regularly. Students whisper in each others ear while gawking at him curiously. "What did you do!" Katelyn yells. "Nothing!" You hiss back.
"Then why is he here!"
"I don't know!"
Your eyes meet with Seungcheol's and a smirk spreads across his face making you shiver. He stands up straight and tilts his head, an indication for you to come closer to him. "Fuck, he's here for me," you mumble. "Of course he's here for you, dumbass," Katelyn snaps. "Well, if I don't return, you know who killed me." You sigh starting to walk towards him. "Wait- you're going with him?" She asks incredulously.
"Don't worry. I'll keep my phone on. I don't think he's gonna murder me, I mean there are so many witnesses." You inhale deeply, leaving behind a lost looking Katelyn.
Seungcheol says nothing as you stand right in front of him raising an inquisitive brow but he only holds open the door for you to get in. Deciding to follow him you enter the car quietly and a wave of gasps go through the crowd.
There's gonna be talk about this tomorrow.
Seungcheol, still smirking victoriously for some reason rounds the car and gets inside and within seconds you're hitting the road. There's a thick silence for a while, which feels like ages to you. You're overwhelmed, bewildered to say anything; your poor brain still processing what is happening. You're nervous, jittery as you fiddle with you bag and look out on your side, for some reason scared to look at him.
What if he really kills you? He wouldn't, right?
"You're awfully quiet," Seungcheol says matter of factly as he spares you a glance while driving.
"I'm... processing."
"What are you, a robot?"
"Why are you doing this?" You question instead.
"Doing what?"
"Okay, you know very well what I mean. Why are you picking me up from uni all of a sudden? How do you even know I'm a student there?" "I have resources and...you didn't protest at all. You came along nicely," Seungcheol raised a brow at you, a cocky smile on his lips. You don't answer but continue to stare at him, trying to pin him down with your gaze. He finally sighs and pulls the car to a stop by the side of the road, the sudden brake making you slightly jerk in your seat. "I've decided to give you those 3 dates. That's why," He is calm, unreadable and you wonder if this is a prank. Then again, he has no reason to prank you, does he? "Really?" Your voice comes out breathy. "Yes. I thought I'd give you a taste of how it feels to be with someone like me. I can scare people without physically hurting them you know," He says in a menacing tone.
"So what? You're taking me to an underground fight or something?" You question. "Nah, we're keeping it simple today." He smirks as he starts the car again and turns on the radio, an indication that he doesn't want to converse anymore.
Shamelessly you take a good look at Seungcheol; he's dressed in another jacket today paired with a black tee underneath. Today, you notice he has upped his accessory game, his fingers full of rings and chains dangling from his neck. But what catches your attention is a tattoo, something like a dragon and words written in a language you don't understand, peeking from underneath his sleeve. You almost ask about it but decide it'll probably be too much and he wouldn't answer you anyway.
As you do so, in the back of your mind you think you should have dressed better, something cuter, more appropriate for a date rather than a plain blouse and jeans. But then again who knew Choi Seungcheol was gonna show up out of the blue. You're gnawing at your lower lip, lost in your thoughts when the car is pulled to a halt and you realize your ride is over. You're parked in front of a diner called Lacy's and from the vibe that the place is giving, you can tell that this is place where people like him hang out. You raise a questioning brow at Seungcheol who says, "I know it doesn't look fancy but trust me I has some of the best food I've ever eaten." Taking his words for now you quickly type out a text to Katelyn letting her know you're in one piece and get out of the car.
Once you're seated you look around the place which is relatively empty except some men playing pool at the far end. You watch Seungcheol who has gone to the reception booth to place your orders; his posture relaxed as he leans against the counter and talks to the girl standing there. They seem to know each other because their chat takes longer than it should and the girl has a shy, almost flirty smile on her face.
He probably fucks her.
You shake the thought off your head as the gangster comes back and sits in front of you. There's silence for a second as you wonder if you should just ask the questions that run free around your mind. "Are the rumours true?" You blurt out. He's raises a brow.
"About you. You know..."
"Do you want them to be true?" He asks back. "I don't...know," you reply. "Well, I think it depends on each person. If you want it to be true it is true, if you don't it isn't," he shrugs, leaning back in his chair. "Why don't you just give me a straight answer?" you snap. He smirks as if he's having fun but doesn't reply, watching you with his arms crossed. You roll your your eyes, blowing out an exasperated breath. "You know, I haven't seen one like you. Willingly hanging out with dangerous people, going to dangerous places. You say you saw me kill someone yet you're here. You're almost desperate to get in trouble," he observes. "I'm not desperate to get in trouble. I just...I'm just- attracted to you alright?" This is so embarrassing. You need to shut your mouth. "You've been on my mind ever since that night. I wanna see exactly how deep I'm into you." You bite your lip.
That's enough. You will boost his ego through the roof like this.
Seungcheol studies you for a bit before grinning cockily, "Well, if you didn't know, I am trouble baby. Just you being with me might end you up in a mess." Before you can reply, your food is served, that same girl from the booth setting down your plates and looking at Seungcheol for a bit too long with that same stupid smile which he returns. You don't know why but you feel jealous, jealous of whatever these two share, whatever she has with him.
You've lost your mind at this point. You're on a high that is Seungcheol. He has made you forget your morals, made you completely lose your mind. Or maybe you've been too good all your life and seeing him brought out that crazy, thrill seeking part of yourself.
Silently you dig into your food and as Seungcheol said, the food is really good. This is one of the best meatloaf you've ever had and you can't help but moan. Seungcheol watches you with an amused smile before popping a fry in his mouth.
"What's your major?" Seungcheol asks out of the blue.
"Uh- sociology."
"Mmhmm."
You're about to ask him what he studied in college but you assume he probably never went to one so you seal your lips. You wonder what his background is and who his parents are but you don't want to get too personal on the first day. So you ask something else, "How old are you?" He laughs out loud before he deadpans, "Thirty five." "What!" You almost choke.
There's no way he's-
"Why? What did you expect?"
"I... I don't know! A few years older than me? You're kidding right? You don't look thirty five." He has to be bluffing. "And how old would you be?" "You shouldn't ask a woman her age," you try to make a point. "Don't you have any manners?" He smirks,"I don't, sweetheart. To answer your question, I'm twenty eight."
Uh huh.
"Well, I'm twenty one," you mutter under your breath. You don't know if he hears it because he doesn't give any reaction, busy twirling a fry in sauce. The rest of your meal is full of silence as you wonder if your date will end like this; dry and boring. He's awfully silent and seems to be lost in thoughts as he doesn't engage in a conversation. You're about to take your last bite when the silence is broken by him.
"What did you see that night?" He leans over, his elbows resting on the table as he suddenly regards you with a sombre look, his earlier cockiness vanished. His eyes have once again gone dark and his demeanor says he's not being superficial right now. You're caught off guard as you cough loudly, reaching for your glass to take a sip of water. "What?"
"You heard me. What did you see that night? Exactly how much did you see?" He repeats. You're confused. You thought he didn't care about it. He said it didn't matter. So why is he bringing it up now? You've worked hard to push that night in the deepest part of your brain, pretending it didn't happen.
And then suddenly it clicks.
"You!" You point an accusatory finger at him as you catch on to his plan. "You've agreed to go out with me so that you can find out what I saw that night!" Seungcheol groans, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Ugh, just fucking tell me!" He snaps, annoyed that you've found out his little scheme. You scoff, "I thought you said you didn't care? Besides it's not like I'm going to tell the police." He rolls his eyes and leans back into the couch. "Just tell me and let me go."
You're baffled. His actions didn't make any sense and you actually thought he had no other intentions behind dating you but holy shit this sneaky bastard. "You sly little asshole!" You hiss at him. "Call me that once more and you'll regret it." He threatens. You roll your eyes sagging back into your seat, "Whatever." Then an idea hits you. "You know what, I'll tell you exactly how much I saw that night." You have Seungcheol's full attention now as he stares intensely at you, waiting for your next words. "On our third date. When this whole deal is over, I'll tell you. But in return you'll have to keep your promise and take me out on two more dates."
"Oh fucking hell," he groans rubbing his face in frustration. His state makes you smirk and you feel accomplished.
Choi Seungcheol is stressed because of you.
What a day to be alive.
You murmur, "Besides this isn't even a proper date. This was more like an interrogation. But I'll go easy on you and won't make you redo this date." You give him a sweet smile and he sees red. You can literally see fury blaze in his eyes. "Whatever!" He yells and abruptly stands up. "I don't have time for this. Your stupid play date is over. I'm dropping you home."
Before you can reply, he's marching towards the door. You've to admit this wasn't the best date but at least you've trapped Choi Seungcheol.
-
It has been a good week after your so called date at the diner and you haven't heard from him. You expected him to call or text you since he was gracious enough to ask for your number but he didn't. You now realize it was a mistake to not get his number; you had asked him for his when he took yours but being the prick he is he denied to hand over his number to you. You should have forced him to, you sigh. As you sit in the library the ping of your mobile distracts you from your racing thoughts as you realize you have a message. Picking the device up you tap on the notification. Even though it was from an unknown number, you have no trouble figuring out who it is from. A smile graces your lips as you read the words over again.
I'll pick you up from your house tomorrow evening at six.
That's all it says and that is good enough to send a thrum of excitement throughout your body.
-
You have not held back in dressing up today and you realize it's been a long time since you've dolled up yourself. A long before the clock strikes 6 you are ready; dressed in a cute pastel top and a matching skirt. You've also went ahead and applied makeup, not too much but just enough to maybe catch his eye. Maybe.
You wonder what he has planned for today.
A text from Seungcheol saying he's here has you flying out of your apartment as fast as your feet can carry your desperate self to see him. He stands in front of your apartment with his convertible, dressed in a white jacket that matched his pants. You take a deep breath before walking towards him, trying to calm all your nerves down.
"You know I expected to hear from you earlier. I've been waiting all week," you voice makes his head turn around to meet your eyes as you are skipping towards him with a teasing smile in your face. "I've been busy," he shrugs coolly, his eyes going over your whole body, from your legs to your face. He doesn't hide that he's taking a good look at you, in fact does it unashamedly.
You wonder if he likes what he sees.
Someone dressed up today," he comments. "Too bad we aren't going to a place where you can show off your pretty clothes." You frown, "Where are we going?" Seungcheol holds open the door, a mischievous smile on his face. "I've decided to grant your wish." With a confused face you get inside the car, the gears in your head running. What does he mean?
"I'm taking you to an underground fighting ring," he says with smirk as he reaches for something behind his seat. He pulls out a large hoodie and tosses it towards you, "Put this on. Otherwise you are going to attract a lot of attention and you don't want that." You gulp, taking the hoodie and putting it on you. You're slightly embarrassed. You were so excited to try this outfit but it's not like you knew he was taking you to a fight club. Hell you would have dressed like a guy if you knew. You shrug on the hoodie and it falls almost to your knees but it's huge and comfy and most importantly it smells like him. There's a hint of cologne, nothing too strong; a subtle, expensive scent that makes you want to take a deeper sniff. You wonder if you can keep this with you.
Stop it, pervert.
Seungcheol's voice pulls you out of your haze, "You can take it off later. Just wear it until we're out of there," he says and brings the engine to life.
Then you actually think about it. Underground fighting ring? Holy shit. You were only kidding when you mentioned it. Admittedly, you're shocked, somewhat horrified. Everyone knows it isn't the best place to be at especially for someone like you who never had such an experience. Seungcheol must have seen your expression because the smile on his face gets bigger, "Why? You not up for it?" His voice is teasing.
He's challenging you.
Oh well.
"Of course I'm up for it," you square your shoulders, keeping your voice cool. "Bring it on."
-
Seungcheol leads you into a bar and then through a door at the back that leads down to a lot of stairs, reaching a place similar to an underground parking lot. Quietly you follow Seungcheol, staying as close to him as possible, your bodies occasionally touching. He leads you to a pair of double doors and from the other side you can hear men shouting and chanting.
This is it, I guess.
Seungcheol throws one more smile at you before pushing open the doors as you scramble to follow him closely. The sight that greets you something you only see in movies. There's a boxing ring where two people are throwing punches at each other and surrounding them from all sides is a wild, loud and excited crowd. They continue to cheer loudly as the two men in the ring continue to box and you hear their grunts and groans.
Holy shit.
Swallowing your eyes meet Seungcheol's who is regarding you with curiosity. "What do you think?" He has to speak loudly for you to hear over the screaming throng. "Uh... It's loud," you say dumbly as you try to think of a reply. But it's too loud for you to even think properly as you take in your unfamiliar surroundings. You see a tall man approaching towards you and out of reflex you shuffle closer to Seungcheol until you realize it's his friend. The guy from the first night. He and Seungcheol grin at each other, patting their backs as they talk close to each others ears. You gawk at them curiously and realize they must be talking about you because his friend takes curious glances at you occasionally. His friend is tall, really tall and well built but unlike his body his face is sweet and puppy like, almost cute. When he grins his canines pop up just like a puppy and you wonder if all his friends are good looking.
After he's done chatting with his friend Seungcheol pulls you close and says, "This is my friend. Mingyu. Always stay near him, you hear me? Don't stray away unless you wanna get hurt." His eyes are stern as he pins you down with his stare but you have other thoughts running in your head.
"What do you mean? Where are you going?" You yell over the noise.
He just smirks at you and starts taking his jacket off. "About time you see how we do it around here." His tone is cocky as he hands his jacket to you, "Hold this for me. And stay close to him."
Giving a look at Mingyu Seungcheol starts walking away towards a door that you're guessing is the changing room.
He's gonna fight.
"Wait- but-" Mingyu stops you with a hand on your shoulder and offers you a kind smile. "It's fine. Just stay with me." He then ushers you towards the crowd, spotting a place where you can get a good look at the ring. "Do you guys do this often?" You look up at Mingyu. He smiles sheepishly, "Not me. I tried a few times and I always end up beaten to a pulp. But hyung does this often, he's really good."
"Uh huh, I'm sure he is," you smile dryly. "This is your first time watching a fight, no?" "Definitely." He grins, "Watch carefully then. It's really fun."
You have your doubts on how watching people beat each other up can be fun but you don't comment anything, instead chew on your lip anxiously. Seungcheol really didn't have to go this far? What if he gets hurt badly? Is he trying to impress you?
Don't flatter yourself, your subconscious rolls her eyes.
As the loud cheering that had died down ensues again, your train of thoughts are halted as you see Seungcheol in shorts and his hands covered in boxing gloves, step into the ring. You can't help but ogle at his naked torso, his finely defined and chiseled muscles. He has the perfect body, not too bulky, not too lean just the right amount that gives you a hard time taking your eyes off him. He seems to have noticed your gaze because the second your eyes meet, he throws a haughty, knowing smirk at you. Embarrassed you avert your gaze elsewhere.
His opponent is a muscular man who's growling and banging his chest with his fists, a gesture of intimidation, you suppose. You are definitely intimidated and you wonder if Seungcheol can actually win against him.
The fight starts with a whistle and in mere seconds they are on to each other, throwing punches left and right. Your eyes have a hard time keeping up with them and their fast reflexes and your hands fly to your mouth as a punch lands on Seungcheol's face, followed by repeated blows as Seungcheol falls back. There's a moment of silence as he wipes his bottom lip and you realize there's a cut.
He tilts his neck, popping the bones and glaring at the other man before launching himself on top of his opponent. The next moments are a blurry mess, Seungcheol beating the guy repeatedly until he ends up on the floor but he doesn't stop there. Seungcheol ends it with a sharp jab to his spine and you have no doubt the other man has broken bones with the ways he howls in pain. The match comes to an end like that as the people cheer wildly while Seungcheol steps down from the stage. Mingyu grins at you happily as if what you witnessed was just a regular occurrence, something you should be cheerful about. Shaking your head at the situation, you let out a deflated sigh.
Their life is really so different than yours.
-
Seungcheol seems to be in a very good mood after the fight as he buys you both some sandwiches and drinks from a deli after you both step out of the bar. You both sit down at a park nearby to eat and watch the night sky. "You know, I thought you were gonna lose," you speak after taking a few bites of the sandwich. Seungcheol scoffs, "You underestimate me, sweetheart. I've been doing this for a long time."
"Do you enjoy it?" You ask quietly, focused on peeling the wrapper from your food. You feel Seungcheol's stare on you. "Yes. Why? Are you scared already?"
"No. I was just... curious. Your definition and my definition of fun is totally different." You murmur. "Of course. What did you think? I go to the mall and shop and watch movies with my friends when I'm bored?" His tone is sarcastic. You bite your lip. "No I didn't. It's just...I feels different now that I have experienced it first hand." Seungcheol offers nothing more, taking a sip of his coke and leaning back into the bench. A silence stretches between the both of except the rustling of the wrapper of your food. "How long have you been doing this?" You blurt out. He frowns at you and you don't expect him to answer but he surprises you.
"For a long time."
He doesn't offer anymore and you don't have the heart to prod him for an actual answer. "And how long do you plan on doing this?"
"What?"
"I mean... don't you have any other plans. Like...do you wanna keep doing what you are doing for the rest of your life? Don't you wanna like... settle down maybe?" Your voice is soft as if you are talking to a child. Seungcheol looks annoyed. He doesn't speak for a while as he stares at the ground, a frown etched to his face. You're about to take back your question when he replies, "I really don't think you understand. I've been trying to tell you that my life is completely disparate to yours. So I don't think like you. I don't have plans like you but neither am I expected to follow a certain pattern like you. I can do whatever the fuck I want, ___. So don't look at me like you pity me. I'm the last person here that should be pitied. " His tone is sharp and it makes you feel bad, like a sensation of needles pricking your heart. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry," You whisper, feeling timid as you look down at your lap. He mutters, "Don't go poking your nose in other people's business. Specially people like me."
He's right. You shouldn't have asked that. You are not close enough to ask things like that. After that there is a silence, this time, an awkward one. There's palpable tension in the air and you feel jittery. Should you just ask him to take you home?
It's still early and truth be told, you don't want to leave him just yet. You only have one more date to go and judging by his reaction, he is in no way interested in a relationship. You heave out a long sigh. You knew very well what you were getting into, yet you couldn't stop yourself. Seungcheol is like a poison, the sweetest one, the one that has you addicted and unable to let go, no matter how much it hurts.
This is a fucking mess.
"Let's get going. I have plans," Seungcheol announces, standing up. You want to protest but you feel like you have ruined the mood, so you follow him mutely to his car.
The drive to your house is awfully quiet, to the point you want to scream out of frustration. Seungcheol seems to be lost in his head as he makes no move to talk. It's like you are alone, but you're not and it's worse, the air full of tension. Soon you have reached your house and he stops the car but keeps the engine rolling, indicating his rush. He keeps still and stares ahead while gripping the steering wheel as you step out of the car in silence. "Thanks for dropping me home," you say lamely, your voice meek. You turn around to walk away but his voice stops you in your tracks.
"I promised you three dates and I will keep my word. I expect you to keep yours, ___. I hope you will tell me what I want to hear when we meet next time." His tone is sharp with an edge of threat and you barely get to nod before he drives away.
It's not until you're inside your apartment that you realize you still have his hoodie on. Quickly fishing out your phone you type out a text.
I'm sorry, I forgot to return your hoodie.
After a while, his reply comes.
Keep it.
-
You watch Katelyn as she fills her lunch tray with food before walking over and taking a seat opposite to you. She looks extra radiant today, which probably has something to do with the way she's dressed; a bright colourful outfit which undoubtedly she put a lot of time into considering. She has a date, with a guy she has been talking to for the last few weeks. It reminds you of your pitiful situation and you sigh, trying to shrug off those thoughts.
It has been a good couple weeks since you last saw Seungcheol and you have not exchanged a word after that night. In the back of your mind you wonder if he is even alive. You want to message him, you really want to because you are going crazy but after how your last date ended, you can't bring yourself to. You are scared, exactly of what, you can't put your finger into.
The entire situation you have put yourself into is fucking scary. They say you become sure of your feelings after three dates but it did not take that much for you. You already are very certain about your feelings for him and how deep they run exactly and you also know that in the end you will be left scarred. He would never be yours. He has probably forgotten about you or decided that it is not worth another date to figure out what you saw that night.
You let a desperate, pitiable sigh.
"I know you are hiding things from me but I understand that you are not ready to talk yet. But I want you to know I am here for you okay?" Katelyn's voice makes you blink your way out of your thoughts. She squeezes your hand tightly and gives you a reassuring smile and you're left feeling guilty.
"I ...I will tell you. Soon. Just give me a bit more time," you whisper. She nods in understanding. A grateful smile touches your lips as her words make you emotional. Then there's a ping from your phone letting you know there's a message. Without giving it much thought you open the device and your eyes go wide.
I'll take you out for dinner tomorrow night. Wear something formal.
-
You wait outside your apartment for Seungcheol. Your day has passed by in a flurry of excitement and nerves as you carefully picked your outfit and did your hair and makeup. A soft baby pink dress that stopped just above you knees adorns you as your hair rests just above your neck in a loose bun.
You are fiddling with your fingers as you think about how this night is gonna end and wether you will ever see him again when a car screech that grabs your attention.
Seungcheol's convertible has taken a stop in front of you and you see the man getting out the vehicle and take big steps towards you.
You're mesmerized.
Perhaps there is not enough word in this world to describe his looks or perhaps you've simple lost the ability to speak; either way, you just stand and stare, drinking the godly man that stands in front of you. He looks delectable, completely flawless and agonizingly gorgeous in his sharp black suit and pants, with a silk black shirt underneath, the top couple buttons undone that reveals a beautiful porcelain skin. His hairstyle completes the look, parted to one side in a sleek way and showing his forehead and oh god is it sexy. You realize you have a forehead kink, if there is anything as such.
If you weren't in love with him before you are now.
He looks ravishing, and you wonder why it isn't illegal to look this good. It should be because you have completely lost control over yourself. Nothing exists in your world except for him and you feel paralyzed, unable to do anything but drink him in. You wonder if you are even worthy to stand beside him.
"____?" Seungcheol calls you, snapping his fingers in front of your eyes. He must have been calling you while you were eye fucking him. "Oh! Um, hi." You're flustered. "You- you look really, really nice." It isn't enough but it's what you can get past your lips. A knowing smirk kisses his lips before he teases, "Well, you look really, really nice too." Motioning you to his car he says, "Shall we? We'll be late for our reservation."
"Yeah, of course," you say, hurrying over to his car, embarasssed at your foolery. Seungcheol must have noticed you ogling him like that. But you don't really care when he looks like that. It is his fault for looking so devilishly handsome and idly you wonder if he did that on purpose. If he's deliberately teasing with, trying to make you the most miserable before letting you go with a slap of reality to your face. Pushing away those plagueing thoughts, you sit up straight and clear your throat as Seungcheol comes to sit beside you and brings the engine to life.
A decently long and quiet (except for the music from the radio) but not quite uncomfortable car ride later, Seungcheol stops in front of a really fancy and expensive looking restaurant just by the sea. You did not except him to take you to a high end restaurant, otherwise you would have put some more effort in your looks.
Feeling slightly out of place you quietly follow Seungcheol into the beautiful European styled building after he hands his keys to a valet. The interior is dripping with polished furnitures and extravagant chandeliers and marble floors as guests dressed elegantly have their dinner. As you look around the place in awe Seungcheol talks to the receptionist who then guides you towards a staircase that leads to a pair of large double doors decorated with gold which then, opens to a large balcony. In the middle of it sits a table with two chairs and an unceremonious gasp escapes your mouth as you realize this is where you will be having dinner.
The man from earlier takes his leave as Seungcheol helps you sit down before taking a seat for himself while you take in everything, overwhelmed with all your surroundings. Why did he put so much effort for a lousy and fake date?
"What do you think?" He asks with a smirk as he rests one of his elbows on the table.
"I'm overwhelmed," you reply quietly, honestly. He chuckles, "Well this place has really good food and a fantastic view so I thought it wouldn't bad for our last date."
Last date.
"It's really beautiful. I don't know why you did this but thank you, really," you murmur, eyes on the satin table cloth with intricate golden lining. Everything about this place is so pretty.
"Well, I decided it would be beneficial for me to extract words from you if you are wooed," his words have a teasing tone to it and his demeanor is completely different from last time, giving you a whiplash but you are not sure if he's fully joking. Before you can say that you are definitely wooed, a waiter appears to take your order and you leave the duty of ordering to Seungcheol since he seems to frequent this place. Prior to his leave, the waiter pours you Seungcheol's champagne of choice and then, you two are alone once more.
Reaching for the flute, you quickly gulp down the champagne to soothe your dry throat and to calm all your nerves.
Over dinner you talk about your uni and your parents back home and the farm they own. While Seungcheol mostly keeps quiet he doesn't ignore you but listens carefully, occasionally passing glances your way or commenting. He does not offer anything about him, which you expected and you don't ask any questions about him either. Instead you try your best to keep his interest in your words despite the lack of it from his side.
After a hearty meal of poached lobsters and wagyu beefs and creamy soups comes dessert; a chocolate orange mousse with spiced fruits and yogurt sorbet. You start eating your dessert in silence, the occasional crashing of waves filling the complete lack of sounds.
This location is truly magnificent and breathtaking, almost having a feel like you're in a fancy resort in a luxurious tropical island. It is undoubtedly the most beautiful place you have ever been, let alone have dinner at and you wonder if you would ever have the chance to visit some place like this had you not met Seungcheol. The man in question, continues eating quietly, seemingly lost in his thoughts. He looks lovely as always, if not more and you try to burn this image in your mind for you to look back at later. You want to ask him so many question, you want to tell him so many things but you're scared. Sacred if you do so this moment will break, scared it will annoy him and end your final date all too early. So you bite your tongue and finish your food as he does and after your plates are cleared away, you are served another expensive champagne as an end to your luxurious dinner.
Even though Seungcheol doesn't say anything, you assume it is time to spill the beans, to say what he has been wanting to hear from the beginning. You have teased him enough and it is time you give him what he deserves. Taking a deep breath, you open your mouth. "Me and Katelyn heard noises from the playground that night so we decided to check. It was pretty dark and we were tipsy but I recognized you and you were... beating someone up. We stayed there and watched until one of us accidentally made some noise. We were scared that you heard us so we ran. That's all that happened."
You have Seungcheol's full attention now as he listens cautiously, his sharp eyes trained on you. Gulping, you clench your hands together underneath the table, waiting for his reaction. There seems to be an eternity of silence as Seungcheol simply stares at you as if he's debating whether your words are true or not. It's torturous, awfully agonizing and when you can't bear it anymore you're about to speak but he beats you to it.
"I didn't kill him." His voice is quiet. You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Somewhere in the back of your mind you believed it, you believed he wouldn't be cruel enough to kill someone just like that and as soon as he speaks those words you believe him, without a doubt, without a second of delay.
"I believe you." You whisper, holding his gaze. "That asshole deserved what he got. He shouldn't even be alive but I let him go. He's in a hospital now, if you are wondering." You nod quietly. It's scary how much you believe him, how much you trust him even though he is pretty much a stranger.
There's a moment of silence as you bask in his presence before he speaks, "____, men like me, we aren't the nicest people. But we are needed, the cops need us around. People like me do the dirty works for people like you so y'all don't face troubles. We do things in an unconventional way but that's just who we are. We aren't as bad as the rumours say but we definitely aren't someone you should be with." You open your mouth to protest but his sharp gaze makes you stop. "If you have not understood it yet, let me say it out loud. I am trouble. People like me is always bad news. Whatever we did until now, I hope you forget. That's the best, ____ trust me. I think we both got what we wanted so let's call it a night." Just like that, he stands up, not waiting for your reply.
You gawk at him, baffled as he pays the bill and starts walking away. Tears burn the back of your eyes and you bite your lip to hold them back. The ending that you had expected has taken place but you are having a hard time accepting it. Your subconscious reminds you that you deliberately got yourself into this even though you saw this coming. So there is no one to blame for it but you. Grabbing your purse, you stomp your way out of the restaurant and towards Seungcheol's car.
Seungcheol barely acknowledges you as you both get in the car and he presses the key to the ignition. You are fuming in your seat, his words and the way he dismissed you cutting you deep. His words come to you, I think we both got what we wanted. You want to laugh. How can he possibly think that? Is he really so stupid or is he deliberately ignoring your interest in him? You want to smack his perfect face, curse and scream at him but all you can do is sit still with your arms crossed as steam comes out of your head. Is he really not curious about your feelings? Does he possess none for you? Does these few days with you mean nothing to him? You have so many unanswered questions. Leaning back into your seat, you close your eyes and let out a frustrated sigh.
It feels like in the blink of an eye the drive to your place is over as Seungcheol halts his car in front of your apartment. He does not utter a single word, doesn't even spare a glance at you while patiently waiting for you to get out of the car.
Asshole.
You inhale deeply, trying your best to gather yourself together as you take off your seatbelt and turn towards him.
"Seungcheol?" Few seconds pass before he looks at you. Words are stuck in your throat. When your eyes meet his, you become mute, overwhelmed with emotions as your words die in your tongue. He keeps staring at you, not opening his mouth but waiting for you to speak. "Is this goodbye?" Your voice breaks.
"I believe we don't have any reason to see each other. We both got what we wanted," He says without batting an eye. You're left bemused, one step away from landing a slap on his face. How dare he say that?
"Do you really believe that?" Your words come out as an accusation. "I wanted to go out with you because I thought I have feelings for you! And I do! And my feelings have only increased since I first saw you. I want to see you again, Seungcheol. You may have gotten what you wanted but I didn't." Your fades into a whisper as tears burn the back of your eyes.
Seungcheol stays quiet, staring ahead, his brows knitted as if he's annoyed. "I promised you three dates, ____. And I gave you that. It's over. Your feelings? You'll get over them. It's better to be in pain for a while that be with someone like me."
"You can't say that! I get to decide for myself!"
"____," he sighs, rubbing his temples. "I'm a bad man. You should leave while you still have a good image of me. You'll get hurt because of me and I've caused enough pain to enough people. Just...go. Just forget me." You stare at him as frustrated tears roll down your cheeks. He doesn't meet your gaze but turns his head the other way. You are angry, infuriated and heart broken all at a time. Clenching your fists you inhale a shaky breath before reaching for him.
Before you can chicken out, you tilt his face towards you and quickly press your lips against his. Seungcheol seems to be shocked as a small gasp leaves his mouth but you don't let him push you away. Instead one of your hands come to rest on his thigh as he other cups his face to keep his mouth against yours. You kiss him with all you have left, pouring in every bit of passion and love for him as your tongues intertwine. By the time you are both breathless, Seungcheol gently pushes you back and peers into your eyes. "That's all I can give you, ____." He says, his voice the softest you have heard. You are broken into a million pieces and as much as your heart wants to cling to him, you suddenly feel tired, deflated like a popped balloon. Your emotions have drained you out and left nothing and right now, breathing almost seems too painful for you. Taciturnly, you grab your purse and step out the convertible. You hear another door shut behind you but you don't look back as your heavy steps carry you to the entrance of your building. When you are about to enter your apartment, you accumulate all your strength and courage to spare one final glance at him.
Turning around you see Seungcheol standing by his car, hands in his pockets, simply watching you. Even though your eyes are locked on each other, you don't see any emotion in them. He looks like the same expressionless, mysterious man you saw the first day. The man you fell in love with. Taking in his gorgeous features one last time, you bite your lip and turn away, forcing yourself to walk inside your apartment building.
Your chapter with Seungcheol ends here.
Epilogue
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A/N : Okay so idk why this fucking app is being like this but it says I reached the maximum of 250 blocks but I thought tum1r didn't have a word limit?? Anyway so I've decided to break it up and put the rest of the fic in another post. Please click epilogue to read that.
Taglist: @koo-18 @shiningstar-byulxx @pcisonedhaos @happyvitamin @yoongischeeksluv @haluim17 @nayam14 @horanghae-gumanhae @cottonsthings @hotcheetosnorter99 @peekabooseoksoon @acapellaanna @amixoferrthang
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shorkbrian · 3 years
Note
How about some barbarian bakugo noncon?
Prelude - One time I came home from a walk and smelled this scent so freaking thick that I could taste it, and I almost threw up cause it smelled like skinning a deer but like, ten times worse?? and I was like lol that’s kinda weird and it turns out the neighbor had caught a skunk in a catch-and-release trap (which we gave him cause we didn’t want him catching a skunk in a trap that’d kill it) and apparently decided to kill it right then and there, and just let it by the edge of his property, right by my car. That was fun. 
Anyways, Katsuki makes a big deal about reader looking different in this. You can take that any way you’d like. Personally, I was feeling insecure about my freckles (I have so many that my skin almost looks even-toned because they almost all touch rip) and my hair color/odd face so I wrote him liking that reader looked different. It’s not super deep lol
Pairing - Bakugou Katsuki X Reader X slight Izuku Midoriya
Warnings - NSFW, dubcon, noncon, voyerisum, exhibistionism, blood mention lol. Idk groping?
Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/4FeWr4OsidcJClBjUEBHWI?si=OPHwLWXrTsiNQ42SlMKLEg
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There is a point where you stop screaming.
A point when you realize that no one is coming to save you, that you’re wasting your breath, that it’s fruitless. Does nothing more than raw your throat and grate against your own ears.
It’s no use. The Barbarian King seems unaffected, perhaps even spurred on by your ear-splitting screams. There’s no reason to scream anymore - it’d be impossible to scream forever.
——
Village in flames, corpses littering the streets. You’d heard about the stench of death from books, from traveling warriors who stop in your village for a night, regaling the people with tales of heroics and strength. It smelled quite different from what you had imagined though.
Metallic, yes, but tangy, thick enough for you to taste the iron seeping into the ground. Raw, like the scent of the butcher’s shop, heavy and suffocating - you hadn’t been able to breathe.
Everything had happened so fast, too fast. People were dead, people were dying, people were killing and being killed. You had been running, trying to escape the stifling aroma of your village being drained, the barbarians running amok through the streets leeching out it’s lifeblood.
Then you had been falling, tripped up by a loose limb on the ground, a body still warm and rattling with it’s last breaths. Shocked by the vivid image of the gore underneath you, a man reaching for his severed arm, you hadn’t been able to catch yourself as you fell, a cry leaving your lips.
Darkness.
And then light as you slowly blinked to awareness, slumped on the ground. A line of prisoners, prizes from the raid. You were one of them, hands bound to your neck, ankles tied to the people on either side of you. Two men had come by after a while, a green haired man in dress similar to your own - perhaps a captured man from the village?
The other man was bare chested, as many of the barbarians were, gold and red paint swirled across his skin in intricate, sharp patterns. He looked fearsome, and he barked at the green haired man accompanying him who scribbled furiously onto paper at each utterance of the fearsome blonde man.
They seemed to be going down the lengthy line of prisoners, assigning them? Selecting them for something? You didn’t know, couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You were numb, sealed off from the horrific event you had just experienced, safe within your cocoon of forced apathy.
And then the two men were in front of you, the blonde man silent as he stared you down, the green haired man with his pen poised, though he studied you also.
But they quickly moved on, the barbarian barking something at his companion, before striding to the next prisoner.
You had been untied from your fellow captives, led through the barbarian camp. Red tents, warm fires and laughter filled the space, bare-chested warriors of both genders celebrating their recent victory.
The large red tent you had been led to was warm, a fire crackling in the deep pit in the center, silky furs softening the harshness of the ground. There was a table in front of the fire, a large basin filled with water nearby, close to the fire. A desk in the corner, near the tent flap, and a folding screen hiding the back of the tent from view.
Promptly tied to the leg of a table, you were left alone, the woman who had dragged you here leaving before you could ask what was happening.
Shortly, green hair popped through the tent flap, quickly followed by the rest of the man from earlier, the one dressed like your people.
“Izuku Midoriya!” He had introduced himself, giving a little flourish as he bowed, before being pushed aside as the fearsome blonde from before entered the tent.
Still tied to the leg of the table, numb to the world, you merely stared at the ground when the two men approached.
“What’s your name?” The green haired man - Izuku - asked.
He was met with a blank stare.
The blonde man growled at your lack of answer, spitting something in his native tongue, words you didn’t understand. Izuku seemed to shrink, before turning to address you again.
“Please tell us your name. Kacchan is not the most patient man.”
The fearsome man beside him bared his teeth towards you, and you shrank back. He did not seem the type of person who tolerated being left waiting.
“(Y/N)….” You whispered, eyes falling to the ground.
“(Y/N), ah! Such an interesting name, the first part means-“ Izuku was cut off from his ramble with a shove from the blond man - Kacchan - who crouched down in front of you, rolling your name around his tongue.
Turning, he spoke to Izuku in the same jumbled language, who listened, then addressed you as Kacchan turned back to study you again.
“Kacchan would like to know uhm, uuh.....” Izuku trailed off, uncertain eyes flickering between you and the blonde.
Kacchan scoffed, listening to Izuku’s hesitancy with disdain, saying something directed at the younger man, yet Kacchan’s eyes were fixed on you the entire time. It was intimidating.
“He uh, wants to know ifyou’reavirgin.”
Oh god.
Even though the man’s words were rushed, you understood, limbs beginning to shake. You were going to be violated.
A finger poking your calf made you jump, the blonde man leering at you, head cocked to the side, eyebrow raised as if to say “Well?”
You shook your head - lovers had existed in your life, not many, but you still cherished each one deeply, thought back on the experiences you shared fondly.
When relayed this information, the blonde man seemed to grin even wider, rising to his feet. “This will be easier then, no need to go slow.”
With a gasp, you lifted your gaze, wide eyes taking in the man hovering above you. His words were completely forgotten as you took in the shock of understanding his words. He spoke your tongue? Wasn’t he using an interpreter? Why-?
The confusion must be apparent on your face, because Kacchan scoffed, turning to stride to the table, taking a seat facing the fire.
“It pays to play dumb.”
“Loose lipped locals give information more freely when they assume that Kacchan can’t understand them.” Izuku beamed, crouching down in the Barbarian’s previous place to begin untying the rope binding your hands and feet to the table leg.
“Stand up for me please.”
You did as Izuku asked, shakily rising to your feet with a helping hand from Izuku on your arm. He began leading you towards the basin nearby, Kacchan watching the two of you with sharp eyes.
“Do you need help with the fastenings?” Giving Izuku a confused look, your eyes fell to the basin, to the fire, to Kacchan seated at the table. Were they going…. Were they going to boil you alive? Eat you?
Trembling even harder now, it was only Izuku’s surprisingly strong grip on your arm that kept you upright, knees giving out beneath you.
“Help her out, she’s damn near useless.” Kacchan’s strong voice cut through the air, the air that seemed too thick, the air that was choking you, throat closing up.
What does one even do in this situation? Do you beg for your life? Scream for help? Who would come? Accept your inevitable fate?
There was no time to make a decision, however, because Izuku’s nimble fingers were pulling at the fastening of your dress, quickly unlacing it.
You were numb again, fingers leaden, legs heavy, mind fuzzy and listless. Izuku peeled down the top of your dress, and you barely thought to cover yourself - you’d be dead in minutes anyways, what did it matter?
Still, your hands rose to your breasts, shielding them from view involuntarily. Kacchan snorted from his sweat, but said nothing.
When you were completely bare, an arm over your chest, a hand over your sex, Izuku ushered you towards the basin, prompting you to step into it.
This was it, you were going to die.
One last shot of fear raced up your spine, and you turned to the green haired man by your side, his hand falling away from the small of your back. “Please, please don’t kill me, I don’t know what I did but please spare my life. Please, I’m sorry.”  Tears were burning your vision, throat choked up with thickness.
Kacchan burst into laughter. “I’m not gonna kill you, the fuck?! Goddamn, your people call us barbarians yet you’re afraid of a bath, fucking hypocrites.” There was a mirthful glint in his eyes when you looked at him, the man leaning back in his chair, arms resting behind his head as he relaxed.
Izuku chuckled also, putting his hand on your lower back again, gently pushing you towards the basin. “You’ll be okay, it’s just some warm water. It’s close to the fire because we don’t want you to catch a chill. You know, the human body actually operates best when it’s within the temperatures of-“
“Deku, shut your trap before I come kick your ass, just get the girl into the water, you dumb fuck.”
The water was warm, and it felt pleasant against your skin, just on the right side of too warm, hot enough to have you relaxing your shoulders as you sank down lower, the liquid covering you up to your neck.
Izuku-Deku? Held your hair out of the way, quickly using a scoop to wet down the strands before rubbing some kind of herbal scrub through your scalp, cleaning out the dirt and debris that had gathered during the raid. You were certain you were absolutely filthy, covered in mud and small scraps, half of your side crusted with dried blood and muck from falling in the bloody street.
For a moment, you felt embarrassed at your earlier panic, silly and like a stupid child, thinking that they were going to boil and eat you. It was clear now what their intent had been, but riddled with fear your thoughts had been clouded and slow.
Fear was still present, rolling through your brain in waves, goosebumps rising from your flesh as you tried to hypothesize what was going to happen to you. From their earlier questioning, you had a faint idea, but you couldn’t bear to think about that outcome, didn’t know if you could tolerate it.
Instead, you let the warm water soothe your body, washing away the grime and dust. Izuku’s hands were gentle in your hair, as he massaged your scalp, as he rinsed out the soap. You tried to ignore how his breath hitched whenever you shifted - you couldn’t keep all of your body covered, no matter how you positioned yourself.
His hands disappeared from your hair, instead prompting your to sit up straight so he could scrub at your body with a cloth smelling of the herbal soap.
It felt weird, and goosebumps arose on your skin as strange hands touched your body. You closed your eyes and endured, for there was nothing else that could be done.
Running would be a bad idea - a naked woman sprinting through the barbarian camp would surely be caught and violated, or brought back to this tent for some twisted punishment. And you could only run if you managed to get past the two men, who ere watching you like hawks, and much, much stronger than you.
Izuku’s hands paused briefly at your chest, eyes flickering over to the blonde man, who nodded in permission. Then Izuku’s hand were running the cloth across your breasts, washing them in gentle circular motions, taking care to not scrub too hard or push too deep.
You bit your tongue as you waited for it to be over.
And it was soon, at least that part. Then the green haired man was instructing you up on your knees, facing him. Telling you to grab onto his shoulder (the man was also kneeling) and spread your legs apart.
Trembling limbs obeyed, face flushing bright red as you followed his commands, eyes squeezing shut so you wouldn’t have to look at his own flushed face.
He ran the cloth down your back, over your ass, then slipped it between your legs to wash your sex with easy swipes of the cloth. The man’s breathing picked up subtly, and you could tell, leaning up against him as you were. His hands wandered, the cloth moving slower and slower upon your cunt, almost stroking at your folds, his fingers pressing through the cloth.
“Oi, Deku! Keep your shitty hands to yourself, you’re supposed to be washing her up, not feeling her up, shitbrain.” Kacchan barked, slamming his fist down against the table to get Izuku’s attention.
Both you and the man in front of you jumped, Izuku immediately blushing the deepest red you’d ever seen, flashing the blonde an apologetic look and you a nervous smile, before he seemed to gather himself, continuing to dutifully cleanse your nether regions.
It was awkward for the both of you, feeling his hands run over your private areas, over your sex, through your ass cheeks. But then he was down, rinsing you off with scoops of warm water before fetching a large towel, ushering you out of the basin, holding out the towel to wrap around your body when you stepped out.
Then you were ushered closer to the fire, sat upon a small stool as you huddled close to the warmth, clutching the towel tightly around you. The air was quite warmer than outside, but was still cold to your wet skin.
Izuku began running his fingers through your hair, parting knots, patting sections dry with a corner of the towel. By the time he was finished, you felt warm again, face rosy from the heat of the fire.
The heat felt pleasant, like the feeling of a full belly after a long day.
You were tired, exhausted from the emotional weight you had endured. Village burned, tripping over corpses and disembodied limbs, taken captive, forced away from your fellow villagers.  Stripped down and fondled - at this point, you just wanted to sleep.
To sleep and sleep, wake up and have this all be a bad dream. Some twisted nightmare your mind conjured up while in the warmth and safety of your own home.
A large hand upon your shoulder roused you from your half-asleep state, lulled by the warmth of the fire and the quietness of the tent. You jumped, turning to find Kacchan towering over you and Izuku both.
Kacchan crouched, his hand sliding from your shoulder to your hair, then onto your cheek. “You look so fuckin’ weird.”
Izuku sputtered. “Oh my god, what he means to say, is that we’ve never seen anyone like you before. You’re… quite unique, and very um, attractive.”
You leaned away from the hand on your cheek, and Kacchan let you, red eyes blinking slowly as they scanned your features.  He was an odd man, as was Izuku. There was an obvious dynamic of power, Izuku submitting to Kacchan willingly.
“Alright, you’re dry enough, get up.” You blinked at Kacchan, processing his words, before he huffed out a breath, rising to his own feet. “C’mon, let’s go, are you stupid? Get the fuck up.”
You scrambled to your feet, towel still wrapped tightly around your body, preserving your modesty.
Kacchan’s hand shot out, gripping the back of your neck, pulling you along with him as he strode towards the back of the tent, towards the sectioned screen acting as a wall.
“Deku, make your ass useful and dump out the bathwater, will ya?”
You weren’t able to see Izuku move due to the hand forcing your head forward, but you could hear his footsteps as he hurried to do what Kacchan instructed.
Rounding the screen, it was clear to see that this was where the Barbarian King slept, a pile of cozy-looking furs strewn in a pile on the ground.
You were promptly shoved towards them, stumbling down to your knees as you lost your balance. The furs provided cushion though, soft and inviting.
But you were scared again.
It was happening, it was going to happen, you were going to raped by the King.
Turning back towards the man, you began to plead, hands securing the towel around your shoulders like a safety blanket. “Sir, please, don’t do this, why me? You can have anyone, not me, please not me.”
He ignored you in favor of beginning to strip, unfastening his cloak, removing his weapons. You decided to try and appeal using a more personal approach.
“Kacchan-“
Suddenly the man was in your face, his own visage twisted into a growl.
“Don’t you ever fucking call me that. Stupid ass Deku made that shit up when we were kids, I’m not some brat anymore. I’m Katsuki-“ He backed away from you, leaving you trembling. “-Barbarian King.”
The man resumed removing his clothes, dropping his belt to the ground, grumbling as he began to undo his pants. “Should beat his fuckin’ ass for calling me that, so goddamn disrespectful. Fuck him, stupid little ass wipe twerp-“
You tuned him out, frozen. What could you do? Another impasse where your options were none.
A strong hand gripped your shoulder, or more accurately, your towel, tugging it forcefully away from you.
“No!” You cried, trying to pull it back, to cover yourself, but the man was stronger, ripping it away before you could utter another word.
“No! Stop, please!” You tried again, finally taking in Kacc-Katsuki before you. He was naked now, aside from the paint decorating his skin. His cock was quickly hardening, plumping up with each step he took towards you as you scrambled backwards.
“Katsuk-Katsuki, I’m begging you, please don’t do this. I’ll do anything! Please just have someone else!” You sobbed, back finally meeting the wall of the tent.
Katsuki smirked, crouching down just out of your reach. “You’ll do anything? You’ll let my horde use you as a toy then?”
Dread flowed through your already fear-filled body, and you gulped thickly, eyes closing.
“No?”
Shaking your head, you started to cry silently, tears slipping down your cheeks.
“You’re already doing fucking anything.” Katsuki growled, hand shooting out to grab your ankle, dragging you down and towards him.
A high-pitched cry left you as he pulled you under him, until he was hovering over you, grinning. “Cry all you want, ain’t gonna change a damn thing. In fact-“ He surged down, until his forehead touched your own, red eyes blazing “-It just turns me on more.”
The man pulled away, a hand falling heavily around your throat, giving a compulsory squeeze before hie started moving his hand downwards, fingers skimming across your flesh.
Immediately, your own hands caught his own, trying to still their journey as they neared your breasts. Katsuki paused, a sound akin to a growl falling from his throat as his eyes flickered away from your body and up to your own eyes.
There was a threat there, a warning. Let him touch, or else. Trembling, you removed your hands, instead grabbing at the furs you rested upon. Katsuki made a gruff sound of approval, before resuming his exploration of your body.
“You’re like nothing I’vs ever seen before, know that? Like some fuckin’ alien or something, but damn, you’re gorgeous. Didn’t even know someone could look like this.” He mused, entranced as he watched his hands splay over your body, pinching at your skin, caressing your breasts, slipping over your stomach and down between your legs.
“Oh god, pleaseee-“ You sobbed out, cringing as a finger trailed down your slit.
Katsuki stilled, quirking a brow as he smiled meanly. “Please what? You wanna cum?”
“Please stop…” You whispered, eyes clenching shut again as he found your clit, giving it a few quick rubs.
The man scoffed, before quickly teasing one of his fingers into your tight hole. “Tough shit, I’ve never had whatever the fuck you are, I ain’t stopping”
His finger burned, dry and too large, and you struggled to keep from clenching down upon it in discomfort, trying to force out the intrusion. This would go easier if you relaxed, if you let him have his way. You knew that, rationally, but it was hard to make you body obey.
Katsuki prepped you quickly, fingering you open until he deemed you ready, withdrawing his fingers and crudely wiping them off upon your thigh. You twitched away at the wetness, at your own slick being cleaned off  on your skin, but Katsuki ignored you.
“Why do you look like this anyway? What the fuck happened?” Katsuki asked coarsely, shuffling off of your thighs, moving to lounge by your side, studying you.
The man seemed to be taking a break, more interested in your looks than fucking you, but you were glad for the reprieve, trying to wipe tears from your face as you struggled to think of a response.
“I-I don’t know?” You finally spoke, genuinely at a loss for how to explain your appearance.
Katsuki studied you with sharp eyes, a hand reaching down to his cock, beginning to absent-mildly pump himself while he looked you over.
“I’ve traveled through every shitty little village in the north, met with the damn piss-baby tribes of the east, I’ve ransacked the towns of spoiled nobles, and I’ve never seen anyone who looks like you.”
You sat up, subtly shuffling away from the Barbarian King while you shrugged, at a loss.
Your appearance wasn’t anything superiorly unusual, but apparently it piqued Katsuki’s interest. Yes, your skin was perhaps a bit different, but it’s not like you were inhuman.
Katuski seemed to get tired of talking though, settling further back into the furs, getting himself comfortable as he jerked himself off. You refused to look between his legs.
“Alright, whatever. Get up here.”
Pausing, you looked at him incredulously. Did he mean on his lap? His chest? You didn’t want to be anywhere near him - wouldn’t he find more pleasure with someone who was willing?
“Are you fucking deaf? C’mon, up.” He growled, patting his thigh, urging you over.
A gulp before you started moving, limbs heavy and hesitant, unwilling as you slowly crawled forward, towards the intimidating, impatient blonde.
You straddled his thighs unsteadily, swinging your leg over, trying to avoid touching his cock.
Unfortunately, despite your best efforts, you caught sight of it, the red tip, the precum making his length shine, the wrinkly, darker skin of his balls, his blond pubes.
You cringed, distaste evident upon your face, and you heard Katsuki chuckle darkly before his hands grabbed your hips, dragging you forward.
“What, don’t fucking like what you see? Am I not to your taste? I’ve fucked whorebag princesses less fussy than you. Get over yourself.” He spat, before taking a hand off your hip, reaching underneath you to line himself up as his other hand kept you lifted.
You trembled in his hold, twitching and swaying to the side, but this was unavoidable.
A gasp left your lips as he entered you, tip slipping through your folds, teasing into your wet hole, stretching you out.
Katsuki let out a groan, slowly dropping you down until he could remove his hand from his cock, returning it to your hip, guiding you to push further down. You felt disgusting, his cock sliding against your velvety insides, dirtying your walls with leaking precum.
When your sit bones rested against his upper thighs, his cock resting fully inside you, it felt impossible to breathe, your chest rising to draw in air but failing, the distress you felt upon being speared open seemingly too much for your body to handle.
“Fucking hell, you’re so tight. You got a dirty little cunt, don’t you? Feels fucking amazing.” Katsuki groaned, moving his hips minutely, relishing the grip your inside had on his cock, how warm you were around him.
“Ride me, will you? I’m getting bored down here.” He snapped after a moment, delivering a harsh slap to your rear to emphasize his words, spurring you into tentative action.
Problem is, you didn’t want to.
Your palms rested against his heated chest, eyes raising to the ceiling as your cheeks burned. This was embarrassing, you couldn’t do this. You couldn’t be an active participant in your violation. What would that make you?
“Oi, princess - I don’t got all night.“ Katsuki growled, landing a significantly more-jarring hit to rear, hard enough to make you squeak and jump, hips twitching at the sensation of his cock moving around your pussy at the movement.
Afraid of more forceful repercussions, you started to move, slowly sliding up, then down, creeping along, hoping it’d be enough to satisfy the man.
It wasn’t.
Katsuki grumbled something under his breath, before tightening his hold on your hips, planting his feet in the furs, then plunging into you with force. The sudden movement jostled you, and you fell forward with a cry, head bouncing onto Katsuki’s chest by your hands, the man groaning as he found a satisfactory rhythm.
“There we go, that’s fuckin’ nice.”
You cried into his chest, hands clutched into fists as you were bounced up and down, the led slap of skin too loud and jarring in the tent. The paint on Katsuki’s body was beginning to smear, sweat dampening his skin and letting the paint drip onto the ground, transfer to your own skin.
It was starting to feel good, make your stomach tighten, limbs tremble with pleasure instead of fear, and you hated it.
Slick sounds reached your ears, out of rhythm with Katsuki’s quick prods. It was wet, pulsing, as if someone-
Gasping breaths reached your ears, not from the man grunting beneath you.
Another round of cold fear dampened your arousal as you honed in on the sound, realizing it was coming from the other side of the screen.
Someone was on the other side of the screen, listening in to the Barbarian King taking you against your will.
A stuttered cry left you when Katsuki pushed too hard, hitting your sweet spot, making you clench and shudder, forgetting about the other person for a second.
But they were so loud, little gasps and moans, and the shlick, shlick, shlick, was getting faster and faster, it was impossible to ignore.
Should you try to tell Katsuki? Would he stop? Would he be mad? It was so disturbing, knowing someone was sitting on the other side of the screen,  jerking themselves off so obviously .
“Katsuki-Katsuki wait, oh-“ You started, quickly cut off by a series of battering thrusts against your sweet spot.
But you had to try again. “Wait, sto-o-op, wa-unh, unh, Katsuki pl-mmh!”
“Shut up, I don’t fucking care.” The man snapped, out of breath.
“But there’s-oh…. Katsuki there’s someo-“
“I don’t /fucking care/.” Katsuki reiterated, gritting his teeth. He shut you up with another perfectly placed push against your sweet spot, and a cruel spank against your already-stinging ass.
“Ow!” You yelped, clenching up.  It was clear now, that Katsuki was aware of the listener, he just didn’t mind. Maybe he got off on it, knowing someone was listening to him take apart his latest conquest.
Clenching up was the wrong response, because the Barbarian King swore, before his hips sped up, bouncing you so violently on his lap that you found it hard to breath, barely able to hang on for the ride.
“Oh…. (Y/N)….” The voice behind the screen moaned lowly, almost whispering.
It was Izuku.
You shivered, at the sound, feeling creeped out with the knowledge that the gentle, timid “interpreter” was listening. He must have returned at some point from dumping out the basin. You were feeling revolted by this entire situation, disgusted with Katsuki, Izuku, and most importantly with yourself.
Pleasure was building quickly in your stomach, zapping up into your chest, making you tingle and shake with the sensations assaulting your body.
“Sit back, fucking sit back-“ Katsuki panted, pushing at one of your shoulders to push you up, so he could see you as he fucked up into you, watch your body move, your face contorting in pleasure.
You felt like you couldn’t help it, your eyes closing, mouth falling open to let out girlish, high-pitched moans.
Your breasts were being jostled, jiggling up and down with the movement of your body, and it hurt. Hands moved to hold them, stopping their bouncing, but Katsuki appreciated the view apparently, because he groaned, pushing his head back while still trying to watch you.
“Fuck, that’s so hot. Keep touching yourself princess, keep moaning like a little slut. Let Deku know how fucking good I’m making you feel.”
Your body didn’t give you a choice, noises being pushed from your throat involuntarily as Katsuki pounded into you, red eyes trained on your frame, intense and unwavering.
An orgasm ripped through you, seemingly out of nowhere despite the steady buildup of it the past few minutes. You gasped, breathing catching in your throat, hips furiously grinding down against Katsuki’s as you rode it out, trying to stimulate your clit to intensify the feeling.
The noises leaving you were perverted; wet gasps, little squeaks and long moans as you fucked yourself onto Katsuki’s cock, previous hesitance forgotten in preference of chasing your pleasure.
Katsuki swore underneath you again, rabbiting his hips up into you in response, breathing raggedly as he neared his own release.
You were so lost in feeling the sensations in your own body, you didn’t register the stuttered groans on the other side of the screen, the speedy clicking of Izuku jerking himself through his own orgasm, the almost-silent spatter of his cum hitting the screen.
Katsuki swore once more, a vehement “Shit, shit!” before he pulled out quickly, orgasm apparently catching him by surprise, the first few warm strings of cum shooting into your warm cunt, adding to the wet mess of your own orgasm.
The rest was aimed onto the puffy lips of your slit, one of Katsuki’s hands leaving your hips to pump his cock as he gasped, hips twitching upward at the sudden temperature change from your burning heat to the air of the tent.
Then there was just the sound of three people breathing heavily, completely spent, sweaty and dirtied from sex.
Katsuki pulled you down onto his chest, chuckling breathlessly as he brought his clean hand to your head, ruffling your hair tiredly.
“Well, you’re a goddamn catch, pussy’s like a fuckin’ vice.” The crude comment made your cheeks color, but as exhausted as you were, you couldn’t find the energy to offer a rebuttal.
“I think you’re gonna stick around for a while.” Katsuki mused, and you felt your heart drop. “Yeah, you’re a keeper. Maybe if fuckface over there-“ The blond slapped at the screen “-can stop being a pervert, we could actually fuck without feeling creeped out.”  He growled, although the blonde didn’t sound irritated in the least.
A small “Sorry Kacchan” was whispered from the other side of the screen, and Katsuki laughed dryly.
“Tell you what bastard, maybe I’ll let you touch her a bit.” Katsuki said, a hand creeping down to knead at your ass. “Then you don’t have to act like a little freak. Who knows, maybe I’ll even let you fuck her if you do good translating those maps we found. Got it, you little shitnugget?”
“Mm, alright Kacchan.” Came the tired response.
You were barely awake, already drifting off on Katsuki’s warm chest, too preoccupied with the red and gold paint no doubt smearing against your cheek than with the conversation going on around you.
You could panic about that later.
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ghoultramp · 3 years
Text
study buddies [sukuna x reader] {req}
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▷       jjk
↳ pairing: sukuna x f!reader
↳ content: { request fic } - dom!sukuna, subby!reader, curvy&soft!reader, college!au, dubcon, choking, spitting, marking (biting, scratching), dacryphilia, degradation (?), breath play (?),  a sprinkle of praise (as a treat), nicknames for reader (princess, babygirl)
↳ words: 4.7k
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⇢ summary: sukuna’s a little fed up of yuji having you all the fun with you, so when yuji suggests you should take a break from studying, sukuna decides it’s the perfect opportunity to have a taste of yuji’s little princess.
also available on ao3
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⇢ note: request for nemi; i’m so sorry it took so long to get around to this but i hope this makes up for the wait! a huge thank you for being my partner in crime on this and for some of the fantastic ideas you shared.
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Yuji had been grumbling at his textbook for the better part of ten minutes before you peered over the top of yours. While he lay chest down on the floor, your legs were lazily propped over the small of his back. Your own back was supported by a pillow against your bed frame, comfortable enough, but you were starting to ache. Yuji wittered beneath his breath, he looked sweet when he tried to concentrate; his eyebrows furrowed and his nose wrinkled, but it was the way his tongue poked over his top lip that made you giggle.
“Stop,” he groaned, “this is hard.”
You cleared your throat as you closed your book, placing it on your lap.
“Which question is it now?” you asked, lifting your legs off him.
He grumbled incoherently, flipping the same page back and forth. You shook your head and shuffled next to him, straightening out your skirt as you brought your knees together to retain some modicum of decency. You leaned your weight against your left hand and softly patted Yuji’s head with the other.
“Uhm,” he mumbled, “still on the first one…?”
“Yuji-Kun,” you sighed, “have you been listening to a word I’ve said?”
He looked at you through his peripheral vision while his mouth fought against a nervous smirk. You playfully tapped him against the side of the head. Yuji feigned injury, holding his head and rolling onto his back; you were trying so hard not to laugh as he rolled about, wailing dramatically.
“You’re such a baby,” you told him, throwing the textbook to the side.
You watched as he stopped and spread his limbs out like a starfish, he turned his head in your direction.
“Says the little Princess,” he retorted, he flashed a grin when your cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink.
He loved rendering your speechless with the utterance of a single word. To everyone on the outside, you and Yuji were this cute, Hallmark-movie, high-school sweetheart-type couple, barely even kissed, blushing at the sweet whispers you exchanged; how wrong they were.
Those sweet whispers that made you blush wildly were due to Yuji sharing with you his demands for you that evening—because you would always be his good Babygirl, his good little Princess. They would never see him grope you beneath the lecture hall desks, purposefully dragging you to the back. He’d ignore you as you cried into the sleeve of your sweater while his fingers fiddled with your sensitive little bud behind your underwear.
He rolled onto his side to prop his head up with his hand, you brought your hands up to cover your flushed cheeks.
“Hey,” he was trying not to laugh, finding your bashfulness absurdly loveable, “why don’t we take a break?”
A squeak escaped through the fingers of the hand that covered your mouth. Yuji awkwardly shifted onto his hands and knees, crawling toward you. When he sat up next to you, he swung his legs around to place them on either side of you; trapping you between him and the bed frame.
“Now who’s the baby?” he cooed, teasing you more by poking your hands playfully.
He laughed at your attempt to look annoyed, it was wasted. You resigned, watching as he began to lean into you, his hand pressed against the back of your head and his lips brushed against your ear.
“Or should I say,” his whisper was a low growl, “Babygirl?”
 “Yuuuuuji,” you were whining as you squirmed between his legs, “you’re doing this on purpose.”
The warm breath expelled by his chuckle brushed against your neck. You felt the grip he held on the back of your head fall to your wrists, you didn’t fight him as he pulled your hands from your face. You knew he got off on how bashful you always were, and maybe you played into that a little, he felt the hot flush of your cheeks radiate against him.
He could devour you so easily.
You felt a thumb press hard against your chin, pushing your head right back. A pitiful laboured noise escaped your mouth, now pushing his palm against your throat. It wasn’t quite enough pressure to stop you from breathing, but enough to cause you discomfort. Enough to satisfy him. For the moment, at least.
“…ji,” you were fortunate enough to be able to squeeze the last syllable of his name.
Using his free hand, he kneaded at the delicious pudge of skin that poked out above your slightly-too-tight thigh-high socks. They were just a part of one of your many little uniforms reserved only for Yuji, and today was one of his favourites; a just-tight-enough shirt opened enough for your delicate, frilly lingerie—of his choosing, of course—to peek out, paired with a simple, pleated skirt.
You were ever so grateful when he lightened the pressure on your larynx, allowing you to urgently drag in a deep breath. But it was mere seconds before you were gasping and panting, succumbing to his will as his fingers pressed gently against the damp cotton of your panties.
“Finally,” you heard him say, the lowered tone of his voice triggered your flight response.
“Yu-Yuji?” you whimpered.
“Yuji’s not home right now, Princess,” he declared, “it’s not fair that he gets to have all the fun anyway.”
“Su-Sukuna, please,” you whined, tilting your pelvis back in an attempt to escape his roaming fingers, he only pressed against you harder.
“Why don’t you let me take you for a ride, babygirl,” as he said it, he dragged his finger downward, following your sweet, little slit beneath your underwear.
“You p-promised you wouldn’t,” if it wasn’t for the fact that Sukuna was so close to you, he never would have heard your feeble pleas.
“We all promise things we don’t really mean,” he groaned, removing his hand on your throat.
Sukuna smirked all the while you gasped for air—once again—and then whimpered, the focus in your sight made everything soft, your head felt full of cotton wool. Sukuna sniggered, the dumb, heavy-lidded look on your pretty, little face was nothing less than perfection. He pressed his fingers a slightly bit harder against your clit, inhaling sharply when he pulled strangled little mewls from behind your slightly parted lips.
Sukuna was more than a little fond of Yuji’s choice of mate, he’d been waiting far too long for this opportunity and he wasn’t going to squander it.
He was going to savour every moment.
“Let’s see,” Sukuna contemplated, relieving your clit of his fingers. He’d want you to beg for it, prove just how much of a needy little whore you really were; he’d have you screaming his name soon enough.
You whined at him as his hands crept along the outsides of your thighs, under your skirt, grabbing hold of your shapely hips. He ignored your cries while he pulled you toward him, your skirt now ruched above your waist.
“C’mere,” he grunted, jostling you with some force when you didn’t move quick enough for him.
From your position—your head now propped where your back had been, Sukuna suspending your arse with his large hands—you could almost pretend that it was still Yuji. It was still his body after all, right? Your eyes passed over the dark lines that only Sukuna had—you always thought they looked like tattoos—and the closed, second set of eyes. Those eyes unnerved you, scared you. You dropped your gaze.
You didn’t ever think you’d have to face this situation, Yuji had reassured you time and time again that he had control of Sukuna, that he wouldn’t be able to take over when things got hot and heavy between the both of you. Now, you supposed Sukuna had lied about being compliant the entire time.
Sukuna continued, “I demand a taste of this—“ he yanked your underwear down your thighs, pulling a little too hard on the waistband, “—sweet fucking cunny.”
Dumbfounded, you were only able to watch him with curious, wide eyes as he moved your legs to benefit him while he struggled to remove your underwear. He was clearly getting impatient, throwing your soaked underwear over his head and across the other side of the room.
Sukuna let out a long, deep moan, as he shuffled himself back. He brought your legs down, pressing his muscular upper-arms against the back of your thighs; this was his way of stabilising you while having both of his hands free.
With his biceps pushing into your thighs, you yelped as your neck was forced into an uncomfortable position. The top of your head pressed against the base of the bed while your ear squashed into your shoulder; you scrambled to hoist yourself up, pushing your palms against the floor.
“Ah-ah,” he growled, yanking you down by the hips.
Sukuna mumbled something, you may not have been able to hear it, but your widely spread cunt certainly felt him say something. He brought the index finger of his right hand up to hover just out of reach of your presenting hole; raising his gaze to catch you looking at him--your chest heaving with your gulping breaths, your eyes almost entirely closed, with your tongue gently lolled out over your bottom lip--he certainly hadn’t expected you to submit to him like this so easily.
“I can see why Yuji likes you,” Sukuna mused, you gasped loudly when his thick finger penetrated you for the first time, “a needy little bitch in heat, like you?”
He let out a satisfied groan as you convulsed against him, nowhere for you to go as he twisted his finger, left to right and back again, fucking you with little care as his thrusts became almost violent. You cried out when he began to hit his palm quite forcefully against your clit with each thrust of his finger; Sukuna’s dark eyes glared up at you, his thick brows pulling together in the middle of his brow while he snarled at you.
You really were trapped.
“I happen to know you like it rough,” he was smirking, the loud, wet sound that came from between your legs as he removed his finger with a yank make you shrink beneath him.
“But, let’s get one thing straight,” he continued, moaning while he sucked at your sweet juices that soaked his finger, “your little Yuji-Kun won’t ever compare to a demon,” Sukuna watched the panic set in your eyes, felt your thighs shaking against his arms as he angled you up.
“It’ll be so delightful and easy, making you teeter on that edge,” he snarled, “between pain and pleasure until I see fit.”
You yelped uncomfortably when the pad of his heavy thumb pressed into your clit; you heard him chuckle above your cries, pressing against it harder. Sukuna pursed his lips against your inner thigh. You felt his smirk against your skin when his thumb quickly shifted from your clit to your hole; it was without warning, your slick allowing him to pull in and out with ease. But the intrusion made you shudder, followed closely by an uncontainable wail.
“Oh, Princess,” he cooed, talking into your thigh, “you’re going to make over-stimming you so much fucking fun.”
“Wh-what do you mean?” it was a pitiful attempt at finding your voice.
Sukuna either couldn’t hear you or at the very least, he didn’t want to hear you. He dragged his tongue along your delicate skin, playfully nipping at you every few inches.
Oh, how it amused him when you squirmed, afraid of his real bite, perhaps? The thought excited him.
You continued to whimper while Sukuna roamed your thighs, but when he flicked the tip of his tongue across your clit—fucking you with his thumb, his fingernails digging into the flesh of your arsecheeks—you brought your hand to your face, biting down on the flesh of your wrist.
Sukuna ignored you, giving attention to your throbbing clit, using his free hand to spread your lips just a bit more, enough for him to sink his lips down and around you. He loved when you made those whiny, little bleats—so pathetic, so fucking easy.
But, no, this wasn’t enough for Sukuna. He jerked his thumb out—your walls quivered around the empty space—and replaced it with his tongue; he groaned loudly as he sloppily lapped at your dripping, wet cunt.
Crying into your hand, still biting down on your already raw flesh, you felt the pull of your hips, ready to spasm with the release that was building up within your core. Sukuna masterfully worked his way around your insides, tensing the tip of his tongue to satisfy that sweet spot within you.
“Cum for me, Princess,” his deep voice was cast even lower as he growled as he spoke those words, commanding you; you felt a pressure within your pelvis vibrate and coil.
A pretty, choked sob found its way behind your lips as you relaxed your head to the side. The arm you had been using to silence yourself came down on Sukuna’s head so hard he scratched at your outer thigh; that would surely leave a mark. Whether you were willing to admit it or not, the thought excited you, you wanted him to hurt you.
Sukuna seemed frustrated when you didn’t obey his demand.
“I said fucking cum for me, Princess,” he snarled, firmly placing his hands on either side of your arse. You gasped, feeling the sting of him driving the points of his nails into your flesh. “I won’t hesitate to hurt you, y’know,” he continued in between tending to your soft, little cunt, “but I get the feeling you’d—“ he huffed, driving his nails into you, eliciting a strangled, wailing moan from your lips, “—like it.”
A whimpering, twitching mess was all you were beneath Sukuna’s grip. You heard the sloppy, wet noises combining with his hungry moans, tasting as much of you as he possibly could. Leaning back onto his knees, Sukuna noticed the bright flush in your cheeks.
“Sweet, little thing,” he laughed, “look, she’s embarrassed.”
Sukuna delighted in having you as his play-thing, but he wasn’t quite done with you yet. While he stared at you with his impossibly dark eyes, you heard the distinct jostling of a belt being undone; you heard it land with a thud when he discarded it to the side, triggering your body to shudder once more.
He wasn’t impressed with you when you lowered your gaze away.
“No, no, no,” he chuckled, “you will return the favour, Babygirl.”
Your heart beat wildly against your chest, your breathing was nothing but desperate, clamouring gasps as he hoisted you by your hair. Your protesting cries meant nothing to him as he effortlessly pulled you to your knees and the sight of your eyes brimming with tears amused him all the more.
“You’d do it for him, wouldn’t you?” he gave an inflection to his voice, trying to mimic Yuji’s, “It’s still his body, right?”
Sukuna’s grip on your hair tightened while he fiddled with the zip of his trousers, you felt helpless, watching as he relieved his thick, hard cock from its clothed prison. It was Yuji’s body, but like this—when Sukuna felt the need to barge his way in—it was his, not Yuji’s.
“Isn’t it?” he spat, pushing you down toward his crotch, cock in hand.
You may have been too shocked to form words, disjoined syllables tumbling from your lips, but not shocked enough to resist him. You didn’t recoil when your lips pressed against the swollen, wet head of his cock, as he brushed his pre-cum across your lips. In fact, you were eager, Sukuna laughed when you parted your lips, ready to receive him.
“See, it’s not that bad, is it?” he mused as he tugged your head back to look up at him.
You heard him stifle a low growl, looking up at him with your pretty, glassy eyes and your puffy, pink lips.
Whining at him as you placed your hands on either side of his muscular thighs, you were a desperate little pet eager for master’s attention. You didn’t care that he held your weight by your hair, it didn’t matter that it hurt. You didn’t care how aggressive he was; it didn’t matter when it felt this good.
“That’s it,” his smile was devilish, allowing you to lower your head into his lap on your own terms.
When you moved Sukuna’s hand away from his cock, he let out a chortle that made your heart flutter. He was gentle while you teased the aching head of his cock. You were ever so pleased with yourself when you pulled guttural, feral moans from his lips; it was your turn to tease Sukuna. For however long he might allow it, that was.
Which wasn’t long at all, it would seem.
Sukuna was impatient and you were taking far too long, he wanted his dick rammed as far down your throat as he could, and he would. He wasn’t being gentle now, not when he pushed your head down onto him. When you let out a surprised yelp, he took the opportunity to take advantage.
“Fuck,” he hissed while you gagged on the intrusion of his length.
Your throat felt raw, there was no niceness about him now as he held you down. You were sure he would be smirking as you convulsed within his grip, feebly attempting to push against his tensed thighs with very little effect. Yuji might be rough with you, but Sukuna was on a different level, and you quickly understood just how utterly useless any and all attempts to save yourself would be.
It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt, and you knew—for certain—that someone was going to be you.
You closed your eyes and held onto his thighs so tight your knuckles turned white; it was the only thing you could do to distract yourself at that moment. The tears he’d forced from your eyes dripped onto your chest with your clumsy movements. You let out a wail of relief when he pulled you away, even just for a moment, it was welcomed.
"There's a good girl," he grunted, admiring the spit that dribbled down your chin, "there's my good little Princess."
Your moan at his words was cut off by a cruel shove of his hand; you gagged under the duress of him ramming into the back of your throat. He didn't care that you choked and spluttered beneath him, in fact, you knew it excited him; the way his cock twitched with each uncomfortable noise you made told you everything.
Every bone in your body screamed at you to submit to him, you would hope it would be less humiliating than this. Sukuna was surprised when you fell limp within his grasp and jerked you back once more.
“I wasn’t sure I’d break you so easily,” he chuckled, raising his free hand to your tear-stricken face.
You shuddered when his thumb stroked away at your wet cheek. You kept your eyes closed as his hand snaked its way across your face and down to your mouth. He tightened his grip on your hair as he held down hard with his other hand.
Your eyes darted open, Sukuna was a God looking down upon a mere mortal.
He hissed, you felt a heavy pressure against your lips as he used his hand to push you back against the pillow still propped against the bed. He was quick, untangling his hand from your hair to rest it on your inner thigh. He was laughing as his fingers tightened around your thigh, claws pinching at your flesh.
“Open wide, Babygirl,” baring his teeth at you, he looked maniacal, his hulking shape looming over you.
You sobbed helplessly as the mouth on his palm opened up, summoning a tongue that successfully infiltrated your mouth with very little effort. He laughed as your pretty, flushed face twisted, breathing frantically through your nose.
You were unable to make out the words he growled while he dragged his claws along the tender flesh of your inner thigh. The games he’d played with your throat, and consequently your oxygen, had dulled your senses—all except the ones that mattered, of course.
The bottom of his palm hit hard against your abused clit and your eyes widened with realisation. Sukuna smirked, both hands pressing so impossibly hard against both sets of your lips as he leaned into you.
“Just a little more,” he growled, “and then you’ll be ready for me.”
There was no time to think before the hand at your mouth pushed your head back, the finger and thumb on either side of your nostrils were dangerously close to completely restricting your airflow. Another tongue infiltrated your aching hole, he laughed at you as you convulsed beneath him. He allowed you to shake your head from side to side but nothing more, he found your efforts at yet another struggle tempting.
Your hips bucked defiantly beneath his hand as he bore against you. You whimpered against the tongue at your mouth as the one inside your twitching hole tickled against your most sensitive spot. Sukuna brought his face down impossibly close to yours, now gently grinding his palm against your clit; the only thing you felt were tight shocks that battered away within your core.
Sukuna gripped your face with his fingers, careless as his claws almost scratched at your face. When your head was brought up to meet him, your noses touched. It was unnerving.
You felt Sukuna’s tongues retreat. You were conflicted when you felt the gnawing ache of emptiness that was left behind. Formulating thoughts seemed impossible, coherency was nowhere to be found. With heavy-lidded eyes, you lazily watched as Sukuna knelt back.
It was cute, the way you opened your legs even wider for him. It wasn’t enough for Sukuna, nothing ever seemed enough for Sukuna. You felt his clawed hands grip the underside of your tender thighs; your breath shuddered, feeling the wet head of his cock bump against your widened hole.
“Good girl,” he breathed, “open wide.”
There was no other warning than his words as he shunted his hips forward, you moaned low in your throat—a strangled, feral noise—as your dripping wet cunt enveloped his throbbing length with very little ease.
“See,” he grunted, tightening his grip on your thighs, “I can be kind—“ he pulled his entire length, your hole quivered at the empty space, “—when I want to be.”
You wailed as he bottomed out against you, digging his claws into your flesh hard enough to draw blood as he frantically thrust. He’d been patient long enough but, while you’d been a good girl and indulged him, playtime was over.
Your head whirled and your limbs were numb. The only nerves that you felt any connection to were the ones in your pussy, the ones that made it possible to feel every protruding vein of his achingly hard cock The nerves that made it possible to feel every twitch it made as Sukuna put all his weight into you. He grunted, pushing back on your thighs, you yelped when he folded them against your stomach.
Sukuna delighted in hearing the moan you gave him after yet another deep, unrelenting thrust, his pelvis grinding roughly against your clit. You found yourself unraveling beneath him, you no longer felt within your own body.
“Yuji,” you mewled.
It was an easy mistake to make, a mistake that Sukuna did not appreciate. He laughed down at you as he picked up his pace. An unrelenting pace that shunted your body with each and every thrust. A pace that made you see stars.
“Silly little bitch,” he growled, spitting on your cheek, he was surprised when you let out a gasp of arousal, “say my name.”
He watched you convulse beneath him, felt you writhe and twist in his arms. It was delicious. The way your cunt clamped on his cock, tighter and tighter, and harder and harder until your cervix felt bruised.
“You’re mine right now, Princess,” he told you breathlessly, “Say it.”
You felt his spit hit your face again and your pelvis tightened. Things like that were supposed to feel this good, and for a brief moment, an internal struggle between arousal and embarrassment took place. Your arousal when Sukuna spoke.
“Say my fucking name,” was his final demand, but you could only cry out nonsense, “Say it!”
“Su-Sukuna!” you cried, obliged to obey him.
You were rewarded with the relief of Sukuna removing one of his hands from your thighs, too fucked-out to move—or care—your leg still rested against your stomach. He bared his teeth and brought his hand back; you were astonished that he never lost his momentum. 
He grunted as he breathed.
“That’s right,” his voice began to waver, close to his own climax, “good girl.”
You could almost believe you weren’t just a piece of meat to him, the way his tongue wrapped around the words he used could make anyone feel special. But you were rudely reminded this was Sukuna, not Yuji, when his swung-back hand collided with your thigh.
The Earth itself could have shattered at that very moment, and all you’d feel would be him; you thought yourself lucky enough to remember your name.
“Good—“ he grunted against your arching hips, begging for more you couldn’t possibly take, “—girl.”
Sukuna juddered on top of you, within you, while his claws made their final assault on your skin, while he buried himself as deep within you as possible. You writhed and mewled beneath him, your hands grasped at the carpet, desperate to hold onto something while the pressure of his hot cum filling your battered cunt overwhelmed you.
There was a faint sting that broke through the pleasure as he continued to roll his hips against you, gently for the time being, now that he was spent.
It astonished you how quickly his breathing returned to normal while you struggled to draw any breaths that felt satisfying, still recoiling and twitching. You could speak only broken gibberish.
Sukuna lowered your legs, you wished he’d more gentle; you winced as your hip joints creaked having been forced into such an uncompromising position. You felt the weight of his chest press against yours and his nose nuzzled gently against the crook of your neck.
There was a tense moment as you lay under him as your senses regained consciousness.
“Yu-Yuji?” you whimpered, tears threatened the edges of your eyes.
The pretty pink man who lay on top of you let out an angered growl, the hands that tightened around your wrists no longer had claws; there was care in the grip.
“I’ll kill him,” you heard him growl, his grip tightening.
“Yuji I’m—“ he didn’t leave you room to finish as he lifted his head, gazing down at you with furrowed eyebrows and bold, dark eyes.
“But first,” he told you, looking down at the mess between where your bodies connected, “it looks like I have to punish you first.”
He looked back to you—was he enjoying this?—and cast a dirty smirk at you.
“Because despite what Sukuna may think or say,” he continued, looming closer to you, his cock twitching with every word, “you haven’t been a good girl, have you, Princess?”
Your lips may have been moving but your voice was inaudible.
“You can thank Sukuna for one thing though, Princess,” he growled, nipping at your neck.
His voice broke when he deliberately moaned in your ear, a sound that made you squirm with delight.
“There’s no more holding back,” was the last thing he said before raising your arms above your head and locking his teeth to your neck.
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Note
Hi I noticed the recent post about you wanting some short writing ideas to work on. Hopefully it’s ok if I give one or two. Maybe a very short vore scene with beel from obey me? Or maybe some g/t hide and seek with whatever characters you like.
(I’m already working on a second part to the last story, so I’m definitely still in an Obey Me! Mood! I imagine there will be several sort of hijinks in general now that the brothers have ‘unlocked’ new ways to interact with MC. Obviously, I just substituted my own persona’s name in here, but here’s a mix of hide and seek and Beelzebub!
Also, I'm always happy to have asks and requests, so feel free to make as many suggestions as you want! I need the psuedo‐social interaction anyways, haha)
“Beel, no,” I said sternly.
“Please, Kat? I’m not hungry when I eat you,” Beel pleaded, trying to give me puppy dog eyes as his stomach growled loudly. An ambient and familiar noise that felt more like a threat hanging over my head ever since the whole animal incident.
“Probably because of the whole not being able to digest me thing,” I replied, continuing to thumb through my textbook. This whole schooling after graduation thing sucked, but demons lived hundreds of years and they didn’t care about Associate’s degrees. Hell, they’d probably have forced a person with a Doctorate to still do homework… Did Solomon have a Doctorate?
Beel flopping on my bed distracted me from the random thought, the demon acting like a dog begging for treats as he practically whined, “Pleeease, Kat. We can play Hide and Seek? If I win, I get to eat you, and if I lose, I’ll leave you alone!”
“You’ll just win cause your senses are better,” I huffed and rolled my eyes. But, I sighed and closed my textbook, shutting my eyes for a moment as I steeled myself. I knew there wasn’t much point arguing with the hungry demon, and if he sat there begging for too long then he’d go into a hungry rage and eat me anyways. I opened my eyes and looked down at him, able to see the eager anticipation in his eyes.
He knew I was pretty easy to crack.
“Fine. But, since I know you’re going to win, you can’t eat me for a week after, got it,” I crossed my arms over my chest after putting the textbook down, gaze firm as I set my rule. “If I fall behind on my studies because you keep eating me, both of us are going to be bitched at by Lucifer.”
“YES,” Beel exclaimed, sitting up excitedly. I could already tell he was drooling, mostly because he lifted a hand to sort of cover his mouth for a moment so he could swallow the excess saliva. “Thank you, Kat!”
And that’s what led to me being shrunk down and given ten minutes to try and hide. We chose the kitchen because it was the only place in the mansion that would actually give me a chance of winning, all the smells of other food acting as a distraction for his senses. An additional rule was added that he couldn’t eat anything else other than me, otherwise he could eat the whole kitchen to find my hiding spot. Which would not only be unfair, but it was also terrifying to see things digest in front of you even when you were invulnerable to acid.
Hiding behind the flour on one of the counters (I couldn’t exactly open the cabinets at this size), I heard Beel announce the start of the game before the sound of his shoes on the floor was apparent. It was a good three, maybe four, minutes of hearing him rummage around the kitchen before the sack of flour was brushed to the side and I found myself scooped up with a yelp.
“Found you,” he purred proudly, even though it had probably been decently easy.
“Y-Yes, yes you did,” I shifted a little in his hold instinctively, looking up at him and adding, “And don’t forget the protection spell!”
“Right, right,” the demon nodded distractedly, probably holding himself back from just popping me into his mouth immediately already. He did recite the incantation, though he didn’t waste any time opening his jaws almost immediately after.
The sight still sent a shiver of nervousness down my spine, seeing the teeth larger than my head, a tongue almost as large as a mattress, and the darkness at the back of his mouth that led to his throat. There was already a pool of drool on his tongue and strings of saliva broke when he opened his maw, further proof of his anticipation. 
I was carefully maneuvered into his jaws slowly enough that I was given the chance to shout in protest if I felt too overwhelmed. I doubted he’d be able to stop himself at this point, but the care was an appreciated thought. The humid warmth of his breathing became more intense and my clothes were immediately soaked when I was placed on his tongue, his jaws closing and leaving me in the humid darkness. Almost immediately my surroundings vibrated a little as a pleased hum rumbled from his chest at my taste.
Normally, he’d usually spend at least several seconds rolling me around his mouth to ‘get the most’ of my flavor, but he must’ve been hungrier than he always was because he barely waited a moment before nudging me towards the back of his throat.
All it took was a strong swallow and I descended down his throat, past his collarbone towards his bottomless pit of a stomach. Well, it wasn’t actually bottomless, since I slid into an actual organ and not a dimensional void. After being eaten a fair amount of times at this point, I wasn’t as scared anymore, the heartbeat and sound of breathing less overbearing now. A low, loud growl made the stomach’s already moving walls ripple and press against me, able to feel Beel gently place a hand against his stomach.
“Thanks again,” the demon purred, rubbing a small circle over his stomach for a moment.
“Just don’t forget to let me out before your morning jog,” I reminded him. While he could wake up early and workout before school, I didn’t exactly feel like being jostled awake before breakfast. At least if I was let out before his run, I could doze for another hour or so before getting up. 
There was a muffled sound of running footsteps that caught my attention, and Beel’s based on how he stiffened a little before relaxing again. Much to my amusement, Belphie exclaimed, “How come you get to eat Kat today?!”
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filterjeons · 4 years
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private show | jjk
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✦ pairing: jeon jungkook x reader
✦ summary: throughout your relationship, you never thought jungkook would ask a certain type of action from you. however, you take it into consideration...without the intention of him nearly catching you
✦ rating: M, not suitable for minors
✦ genre: smut
✦ word count: 7.4k
✦ warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, tsundere!reader, rough & unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it!!), dirty talk, degradation bc im a whore for that, masterbation, voyeurism, oral (f receiving), fingering, orgasm denial
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Honestly, you didn’t know what you did in your past life to earn a man like Jungkook but you weren’t complaining one bit anyways. By just one look at you, people assumed you weren’t the type to have a boyfriend and you would spend the rest of your life alone. Luckily, you managed to prove them all wrong by being with someone who loved you for the way you were instead of your money. 
It was a blessing and a curse to be born into a rich family of doctors who expected you to be the heir of the family hospital. Despite having your future already planned for you, you fell in love with playing the violin after being introduced to it when you were young. The feeling of holding the violin against your jaw as the bow ran across the strings to produce a classical melody that you’ve familiarized yourself with throughout the years. 
You would much rather be at a violin recital in a beautiful dress playing one of Bach’s sonatas than being cooped up in your room studying biology. However, your parents didn’t feel the same way. 
When you were about 6, you ranked second at a competition against tons of kids who were in their later-preteens but that wasn’t enough to prove to your parents how much you loved music. They took it as a sign of failure because “it’s not being first” and always used that argument against you to emphasize on how you have to be at the top of your class. 
“Mommy! Guess what, I got second place! Second out of a bunch of bigger kids! I didn’t expect-” you squealed, kicking the back of the limo’s glass partition. Instead of candy, you were buzzing with excitement due to how well you placed in your county’s music recital. But what you didn’t know was that even a place close to first was never enough. “Why didn’t you get first?” 
As those words ran through your ears, you felt your blood run cold and the eyes that were dancing of excitement and joy started to dull. You clutched your certificate tightly, tears starting to swell up. 
“That’s because there was a sixth grader who was better than me and she was really good, she can play the piano-” “You see, if you can’t get first then you shouldn’t pursue a career in music. It’s too hard and competitive for you anyways. How about you focus on your studies, especially since you’re going to take over the hospital when you’re older.” 
Up until last year which was your freshman year of college, you obeyed them by devoting your time to studying and only treating music as just a hobby while you hide your feelings along the way. Now that you think about it, you barely had friends during high school since every break period, you were always alone in the music room and you were too stubborn to go up to people. The only reason why you would talk to someone is to work on a group project but it ended up being that you would do all of the work while they slack off. 
Everyday felt dull and uninteresting, especially since you’re being put in a fate that you don’t even want. But like some stupid cliche, it all changed ever since you met him. 
You didn’t even intend to meet him, hell you barely knew he existed. But the night of your chemistry midterm, the apartment next to you decided to have a party which most of the school is invited to and blast loud music that could be heard from the next town over. 
It couldn’t get any worse as you were already stressed from college and your parent’s crazy expectations and you were definitely not failing otherwise you’re dead meat. Normally, you would just try to sleep it out with earplugs but since you barely ate anything but coffee and granola bars and you were tired from the 24 hour studying, that was your last straw. So you did the thing a person would do in your situation: marching over to the party in your purple star-printed nightgown to give them a piece of your mind. 
Already at the door, you could feel people’s stares burn into you, due to why you came to the party when you didn’t bother interacting with people and why you were in your pajamas. Maybe people were going to talk about you on Instagram but you didn’t care, you just wanted to ensure that you have enough sleep so you could at least pass. 
Unfortunately for you, you must’ve looked extremely stupid because you were wandering around the same area like a drunk man. Random people did offer to get you a drink but you declined; after all it was a school night. Eventually you gave up trying to even bother talking after seeing the host, local frat boy Jackson Wang, surrounded by the rest of the partygoers in a beer pong game. 
Frustrated and exhausted, you hauled yourself up to a seemingly empty room and collapsed onto the bed. Not only did you enter a college party in your pajamas but you wasted precious time studying over something idiotic like this. With all of these negative emotions inside of you, screaming inside a pillow was the first thing that came into your mind. And unfortunately, someone had to be the witness of your near mental breakdown. 
“Woah, is everything okay?” a velvety voice chuckled, patting your back slightly. Well, another reason why your night is absolute shit. You turned your face up to chew off the mysterious person but for some reason, your voice was all caught up in your throat. 
He was different, different from all of the boys that ever interacted with you. Despite you being a complete loner, the guys in your high school tried to hook up with you but you were never interested. They stunk of axe and the only reason why they’re “popular” is because they were on a sports team. Besides, you were too busy in your academics to even think about dating. 
You couldn’t really see him but the guy who’s in the room with you looks better than every single guy in your high school combined: his long dark hair in a mini-ponytail contrasting with his cute bunny-like face. 
“Wh-who are you?” “Jeon Jungkook. I’m a member of the boxing team and my family owns a records shop downtown. What about you?” 
“I-i-” “Aren’t you Y/N, the smart girl who doesn’t talk to anybody and spends her time either studying or in the music room with her violin?” Thank god the room is dark because your face was burning up badly. Barely anyone knew you and if they did, they had bad things to say about you because you were so quiet and boring. However, what he said was a fact and you shouldn’t blame him for having an impression on you due to what other people said. It hurted nonetheless though, especially since he was a part of a sports team. 
“Yeah, that’s me. What do you want? If it’s homework answers, then fine!” you snapped, immediately standing up and walking away. You were absolutely done with this night, all you wanted to do is sleep so you have some sanity tomorrow. 
“You sure are feisty. It’s cute,” he said with a cocky grin stuck on his face. Oh, how you wanted to slap it off. 
“If you’re asking me out, I’m not interested!” you fought back. Although you were one step out of the door, something about him made you want to stay. Like you wanted to talk to him. 
“I didn’t say anything about that but if you want it that way-”
“No! I-I’m sorry for acting all rude, I’m just having a really bad night and I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone,” you mumbled, turning on the light. Oh how it was a bad idea..
Now that you could really see his face clearly, your heart felt like it was about to explode. He was dressed in a simple all-black T-shirt and jeans with combat boots to match. What really captivated you were the tattoos on his hand and up to his elbow, each symbol and design etched out beautifully which must’ve taken hours. 
Although you were at least wearing clothes, you felt exposed due to the stupid pajamas you have on. He somehow sensed your embarrassment and gave you a small smirk which made it ten times worse. 
“Well, do you want to explain why you were screaming in a pillow earlier?” Normal you definitely wouldn’t spill her feelings to a hot guy she just met five minutes ago but with him, you felt safe. Like for one night, all your worries and feelings are immediately gone and it’s just you and him. 
Was this the stupid shit they call “love at first sight”? 
“My midterm is tomorrow and I can’t sleep from all of the noise so I came here to yell at the host of the party. Jackson Wang, fuck you and your decision to host a party today,” you sighed, settling yourself next to him. You would expect him to immediately laugh and make fun of you since it was something a lot of people did to you whenever you cared about your grades. Instead, he looked at you with understandment and listened to what you had to say. 
“Honestly, I don’t even know why I went to this stupid party in the first place,” he replied, making you snort out a laugh. As you were trying to collect yourself from his statement, Jungkook’s mouth turned up into a small smile. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t expect that. Anyways, I guess I should get going since I have a big day ahead of me,” you smiled, feeling a small weight being lifted off of your shoulders. As you trudge out the door, Jungkook’s arm stops yours for a second. 
“Do you think I can have your phone number? Not for dating but you sound like a really cool person to be around and no offense but you seem lonely.” “Thanks for the compliment. But here you go,” you said sarcastically, scribbling down your phone number on a random piece of stationary in the drawer next to the bed. Maybe this is all a fever dream, maybe you’re hallucinating due to how little sleep you’ve gotten during midterm week. 
“I’ll see you soon…” he waved you goodbye as you gave a final look at the door. He was interesting but now isn’t the time to be distracted! You’re pretty sure that if you pinch yourself, you’ll be back in your dorm since this is just a dream? “Also, d-don’t take it the wrong way! It’s not like I like you or anything! I just wrote down my number because you asked nicely! We’re never going to date!” Not only did you pass your midterm but your last line to Jungkook in the stuffy college party would become your famous last words. 
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It’s been years since you and Jungkook met at that party and a lot has changed then. You started to grow feelings and date him a few weeks after your midterm, eventually making the relationship official in a month. After a few months into dating, he introduced his parents to you first. They were a sweet family with amazing home cooked meals which you were dying to recreate and luckily, they accepted you with open arms. 
However, him meeting your parents wasn’t that smooth. Now that you look back on that day, not only were you permanently deciding to be with the one that you love but it also felt like you were breaking free out of the shell that your parents trapped you in because you didn’t want to go down the path they set for you. 
You shook your head to yourself, not wanting to be reminded of the painful past. Now, you were a violinist playing in recitals and companies and Jungkook was running his parent’s record shop. You were happy and you didn’t care about what your stupid parents think. They can simply ask someone else to run the hospital and it’ll still be fine. 
As soon as the practice track ended, you turned off the metronome and packed your violin away. The apartment that you and Jungkook shared was average-sized, a notable difference from the mansion you used to live in but it was better. You were with the person you love and that’s all you could ever need. It may sound corny but a simple life with him was all you ever wanted. 
After you pack away your violin, you impatiently wait alongside the door for Jungkook to get home. Right now, he has boxing practice for a match next week and he wanted to stay with his teammate Taehyung to be the best that he can but he’s stopping by for a day. You’re not into boxing but like the good girlfriend you were, you attend most of his matches (some conflicted with your performances) and cheer him on. 
Although you miss having him by your side, you’re also aware of how much boxing means to him as it was a break from the hectic life of owning a music store. Another positive in your new life was the amount of music there was, a good break from the science and math that filled your childhood. 
You heard some jiggling among the door locks and surely enough, Jungkook’s handsome face was in your view. He was wearing a black sleeveless shirt and some blue jeans, a very simple outfit after spending most of his time at the boxing gym. 
“Hey baby,” he cooed, giving you a hug and a kiss on the forehead. 
“Hi. I’m so happy you’re back, I was starting to worry that you forgot about me,” you joked, carrying his boxing bag to your shared bedroom with him tagging behind. 
“You know I would never forget about you,” he muttered, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing the back of your neck. Instead of wriggling away like you normally do, you allow yourself to relish in his affection since he wasn’t a person who did it often. 
“I missed you..” you mumbled, turning around and kissing him. He returned the kiss more passionately, slipping his tongue inside your mouth. The sudden action made you forget about everything, focusing only on him. Unfortunately, with your senses locked on him, it caused you to fall onto the bed, your head nearly hanging off of the edge. Jungkook used your weakness to have more control over the kiss and you, carefully grabbing the back of your head to deepen the kiss. Even though he always controls kissing you, his lips are also full of love and longing due to him being gone for too long. 
“God I missed this,” he mumbled, breaking away to remove the buttons of your blouse and kissing the side of your neck. You whined from his touch, feeling a bit embarrassed due to how much time it’s been since the two of you were together. 
“What is it baby girl, are you nervous? Come on, we’ve known each other for years and I know you can take anything I give you.” It was true of course but for some reason, it felt like the first time you had sex with him. 
After your shirt has been taken off, you unconsciously cover your chest with your arms. You didn’t know why you’re acting so self-conscious, especially since you’ve been a challenger to him in bed. 
“Hey, are you okay? We can stop if you don’t want to-” Jungkook asked softly, reaching over to take your hand. 
What’s there to be nervous about? It’s just Jungkook and like he said, you’ve known him for too long. Besides, don’t you have too much pride to act this way? You swallowed the lump in your throat and looked back at him with a seductive smile. 
“You were taking too long to take off my shirt. How boring,” you said coyly, tapping his nose playfully. He returned your gaze, his eyes darkened with lust and desire. 
“Well then baby girl, how about you take off the rest of your clothes since you seem like you want to do it,” he muttered, sitting up with his attention completely on your chest. One thing you were infamous in your relationship for is being a brat, a mix of you being submissive but not backing down completely. Even though you liked being a good girl sometimes, the rest is just you on the receiving end. After all, you won’t back down to a challenge, nonetheless if your challenger’s your significant other. 
If a person only based off of what they saw, they would think that you were the one taking absolute control due to the aura you give off and your harsh personality. However, at least between you and him since you were one to keep your private life a secret, he is the one with the reins and you were completely fine with it. 
You unclipped your bra, throwing it at some random place in the room and revealed your exposed breasts. He ogled at your body up and down, his familiar lustful gaze running through his eyes. 
“Hey, what are you staring at?” you barked, slowly starting to feel awkward. Unlike you, Jungkook had no shame when it came to your bedroom activities and there were times when he would just stare at you while you’re completely bare. How embarrassing...but it’s no big deal. 
“Watch your mouth you little brat. Do I have to punish you on my day back?” he said darkly, his tone immediately making the back of your hairs stand up. Your face softened, heat forming in your cheeks as you twirled a random piece of your hair, a random habit that you’ve done since elementary school.
“I-I’m sorry.” “Sorry what, baby girl? You’re smarter than that.” “Sorry..sir.” After that word was uttered in your soft and obedient tone, Jungkook could feel his dick growing harder by the second. Hearing you give up all of your confidence and letting him control you never failed to turn him on. 
“Now take off the rest of your clothes, sweetie. Or are you going to continue being a dumb little girl and keep playing with me,” he growled softly, leaning back on the bed frame. You felt like acting up some more but he truly was scary when he’s upset and you didn’t want to make his visit back bad because of your behavior so you simply did what he said. Even though you wouldn’t admit it to the world, you also love obeying Jungkook. 
You quickly unzippered your jeans, pulling them off along with your panties and kicking them out of the bed. The warmth from the clothes were immediately replaced by the chilly air from the air conditioner, your nipples standing up and goosebumps filling your body. It was humiliating, especially since Jungkook can see you so clearly. 
“My precious sweetheart,” he cooed, leaning over you and you could feel his hardened member alongside the roughness of his jeans as he slowly grinded into you. 
“Ahh…” You didn’t know what to say, except you knew you wanted more. Jungkook’s mouth was latched onto your nipples, sucking them harshly while his other hand was massaging and flicking on them repeatedly. You felt your eyes roll back to your head and your pussy dampening, even though he wasn’t doing anything yet. 
“You like this baby?” he asked gruffly, tugging on your nipple teasingly as it sends sparks of pleasure inside you. You only let out a whine in response as he broke apart from your chest and slowly made his way down your body. 
All of a sudden, he inserted one of his long fingers inside of your core, sending vibrations throughout your body. You squealed from the intrusion as your body tried to familiarize itself with his finger, your walls clenching around his digit. 
“Damn, have you gotten tighter since last time?” He started to thrust his finger in and out of you at a moderate pace, trying to get you used to the feeling. As if one isn’t enough for you, he suddenly inserted a second one to stretch you out. 
Your mind was a haze, not paying attention to anything that was happening around you and focusing on the pleasure that Jungkook was giving you. His fingers attempted to reach the spongy section of your g-spot, the place that absolutely had you in hysterics. Surely enough, his fingertips grazed over it and you could nearly come undone at any second. 
While he added an additional finger and completely filled you up, you could feel his smooth tongue on your clit, flicking and sucking on it feverishly. High-pitched moans and mewls were coming out of your mouth embarrassingly as you tugged on Jungkook’s long locks in order to steady yourself of the pleasure. 
You could feel him curl his fingers and touch your g-spot, sending sparks within you. At this point, you were barely in a stable mindset due to how good he was making you feel. You felt a knot building up in your stomach, your orgasm coming close to you. 
“Are you gonna cum now baby girl? Do you want to cum for Sir? Yeah, I know you do, I could feel it coming,” he said tauntingly, his fingers and tongue abusing your cunt and the vibrations among it made the sensation feel even better. 
“Y-yeah, I’m gonna-” you whimpered pathetically but to your dismay, he completely stopped by sliding his fingers out and removing his face. With your release dismissed like it was nothing, you felt annoyance build up on you as your body shook from the denial. 
“What the hell? Why did you stop?” you groaned, your eyes shooting sharp daggers at Jungkook. If looks could kill, he would surely be dead within two seconds. But all that’s on his face were your liquids and a cocky smirk that you want to wipe off instantly. 
“Because I want you to cum on my dick first. It’s been so long since I’ve been inside you, y’know?” he said casually, pulling off his shirt like it was nothing and revealing his impressive 6-pack. One thing that you were always in awe of was his figure. Jungkook was a really athletic person, always finding time out of his day to work out and maintain his muscular body. You didn’t mind if he didn’t have abs but it neutralized his cute face that could easily kill anyone. 
“It’s been a while, yeah? You ready kitten?” Jungkook kicked off his jeans and his boxer that covers his massive bulge was immediately in your vision. You could feel your thighs rubbing together as you were craving him inside you. 
“You’re calling me kitten now?” you mumbled shyly as he sat on the edge of the bed, palming his hardened member. 
“Yeah because you’re my cute kitty, aren’t you? Do you want to take off my boxers for me?” he smirked, knowing how excited you are to see him like this again. Like there was no tomorrow, you yanked it off impatiently and his dick sprang out, hitting his abs before standing up instantly. 
“You’re excited, aren’t you? Don’t deny it,” Jungkook teased, stroking his member teasingly before setting you down on your back and hovering above you. 
“I want it,” you mumbled impatiently, getting excited with the thought of him fucking you until you can’t walk again. He chuckled at your reaction, slowly slipping himself inside you. You shrieked from the sudden movement and tried to make yourself comfortable even though this wasn’t new to you. 
“Alright baby, let’s go,” he said gruffly, slowly pulling out and slamming it back inside within the next five seconds. You let out a scream as he picked up the pace into the all-too familiar rough and fast one. 
“Damn, you’ve gotten way tighter since the last time I’ve fucked your brains out. Feels so good for Sir,” he groaned, his dick completely filling you warm and deep to the point where it could nearly reach your guts. “Does my baby like that? Like getting dicked down where I can feel her in your stomach?” “Ahh, oh my god!” You could only moan and whine in response, pathetic noises coming out of your mouth as Jungkook’s dick hit every surface of your pussy. His veins already made it even more pleasurable and you could feel the tip grazing upon your g-spot, making you even more sensitive. 
It hasn’t been long but embarrassingly, you could feel your orgasm arrive once again due to how good his dick was thrusting into you. As he continued to drill your abused cunt, you could feel your legs tremble at the sensitive feeling and the impending sensation of your orgasm starting to grow in your core. 
“S-sir, oh my god-” you mewled as Jungkook used his force to flip you on your stomach, your face covered in the pillows. You couldn’t feel him inside you for a second but suddenly, he slammed inside you with no remorse and continued fucking you at that fast pace. 
Your cunt throbs as you prepare yourself to cum all over his dick. Jungkook could sense it too by the way your walls started to tighten around him, making it even more pleasurable than the last time you two had sex due to how tight you were. You were praying that he doesn’t deny your orgasm again but there were times where he was that cruel. But you’ve behaved enough to not warrant that type of treatment. 
“Is my baby gonna cum now? Go on, come for me, I want to see you come undone on my dick,” he chanted lowly, his pace fastening due to his orgasm coming in soon. Like his words set off a reaction inside you, you screamed out his name and squirted on his dick and stomach. Using that as fuel to keep going, Jungkook thrusts even faster than before to catch his own high as you try to calm yourself down from your own orgasm. 
“Ahh, Jungkook-” you whined from the sensitivity but you kept holding on so he could cum too. The way his sweat dripped off of his forehead and complimenting with his dark locks nearly made you want to cum again. 
“Fuck, I’m cumming, oh shit,” he moaned out, his thrusts slowing down and surely enough, you could feel his dick spurt out his seed inside you. He started to pull out and stroke himself, spurts of his cum filling up your pussy to not waste a drop. 
You and him started to breathe heavily from the intense fuck as you gingerly pulled up the sheets to cover your body. It’s not like you were embarrassed of him seeing your body, it was a habit you did after you have sex with him.
“Did you miss me?” he smiled, lying down next to you and covering an arm around your waist. You nodded, snuggling up next to him on the neck of his crook. There weren't any words spoken from the both of you for a while, instead you were just enjoying the presence of him next to you because after today, he’ll be gone again. 
If you had it your way, you didn’t want him to go but he really wanted to participate in his boxing match and what kind of girlfriend were you if you didn’t support him? Still, you loved every moment with him and he was the one thing you absolutely loved in your life. 
After a moment of silence, Jungkook broke the silence by facing towards you with seriousness in his eyes. You were worried that something may have happened, so you braced yourself with the worst that could happen. But surprisingly, his words were a bigger shock than any other disaster you could think of. 
“Y/N, do you mind if I ask something of you? I hope you don’t find it uncomfortable or invasive.” “Sure, what is it?” You should’ve known from the cheeky smirk he gave you that he was going to request this type of stuff. 
“I want to see you touch yourself. I think you’ll look so hot fucking yourself with your fingers while all I’m doing is just watching you.” “What the hell?!” 
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You were lying if you said you didn’t think about it a lot, especially since Jungkook left the house today this afternoon. Now that he wasn’t there, the apartment felt lonely again and you automatically missed him. 
However, the thought of him also brings you back to the conversation you had after you two had sex after a while. 
“You’ve never touched yourself? I figured that something like that would come easy to you!” “Well- you know I have dignity right! It’s already embarrassing enough that I’m your submissive!” 
“You’re right, it’s already hot seeing you act all whiny and needy for my touch.” “Shut up! Stop making fun of me!”
You shook your head, trying to get rid of Jungkook’s words. With the intent to clean your room to take some stuff out of your mind, you walked to the shared bedroom and started to rearrange random knick-knacks that were placed in peculiar locations. 
While you were wandering around, your eye caught sight of a black duffel bag that was in a hidden corner of your bed. With curiosity, you approached it to check to see what was inside. It was heavy and filled with boxing gloves and other equipment, meaning that it was Jungkook’s. 
He must’ve forgotten it when he left today, you mused, holding the glove to your chest. A normal person would immediately contact him and give it back but it was like a living piece of him, having its name and scent. You can’t believe you already miss him that much to hold onto his boxing gloves for some comfort. How pathetic. 
The smell of him already reminded you of yesterday, when he touched you and made you feel so good. You groaned to yourself as you feel your panties dampening just from the thought of Jungkook giving you pleasure. 
“Y’know what, it wouldn’t hurt to try, right? Alright Jungkook, I’ll do it,” you muttered to yourself as you slowly grazed your fingers to your lower region. You could already feel the slick coming out of your panties, signalling how wet you were. 
You were a smart person but frankly, you were confused on how to touch yourself especially since this was your first time. Memories of the way Jungkook inserted and thrusted his fingers inside you flashed through your mind, giving you an idea on how to start. 
You slide your panties off to your ankles and slowly insert your index finger inside of your core, letting yourself get familiar to your own fingers inside of you. It sure felt different than when Jungkook did it, it wasn’t enough to completely make you feel undone. You pumped another finger inside, giving you something inside at least but it was no better than Jungkook’s touch.
“Ahh, Jungkook,” you moaned softly, flicking your own clit with your fingers which makes the pleasure at least a bit better. You would rather have him with you but it was enough to fill up a small part of his absence. Remembering every time he fucked you harshly was enough to quicken your pace with your fingers, your walls clenching around them and your orgasm closely approaching. 
Your other hand groped your breasts, flicking your nipple and massaging them while the other was thrusting in and out of your needy cunt. You were completely in your own euphoria, the world completely fading away from you. Unfortunately for you, that euphoria is only short-lived. 
An annoying sound ran throughout your room, the culprit being your cell phone. You groaned with disappointment as you attempted to pry your fingers out of your pussy and your orgasm fading away with every time the ringtone chimed. 
With your slick-covered hands, you read the text and your blood started to run cold from the words that were displayed on the screen. 
[Jungkook ♡]
- Hi babe, I’m coming home bc I forgot my boxing bag.
- Sorry that this was sudden
- Actually, I’m outside the apartment rn
You’re fucked. Absolutely fucked. But lucky, you still had a minute to spare to make it seem like you weren’t doing anything. You put his boxing glove back in the bag and wobbled downstairs to the front door. The door locks started to jingle and you immediately opened them just for him to take his bag and go. You love him with all of your heart but now’s not the time to chat with him. 
“Hey Y/N, do you have my bag?” he asked across from you, looking as good as ever. You forced a smile and shoved his bag in front of your face.
“Yeah, it’s this one right? So, here it is so you can get going now! Goodbye!” you grinned, sweat dripping down your face. 
Jungkook looked puzzled on why you were acting that way but decided to go along with it. “O-okay, thanks.” 
“Of course! Now, you should get going now! Your boxing rehearsal isn’t going to wait forever, is it?” you chuckled, trying to push him out of the door but he didn’t budge. After taking a quick glance at you (more specifically your legs and the amount of slick dripping down), he decided to stay. 
“Woah, woah, there’s something going on. Let me in,” he said stubbornly, pushing against you to get inside the apartment.  
“What are you talking about? There’s literally nothing going on! You should go back to the boxing place!” you argued but he wouldn’t listen. Jungkook grabbed your hand and pulled you upstairs into the bedroom and set you down, looking straight into your eyes. You immediately blushed as his eyes held such confusion and hunger inside. 
“Don’t lie to me, only bad girls lie. So tell me baby, what exactly is going on?”
Surely he didn’t know right? You still have some time to lie because there’s no way he knows. 
“I was taking a nap before you texted me.” 
“Without your panties on and a shit ton of slick dripping down your thighs?” he asked with confusion, pulling up your skirt and revealing your soaking pussy, throbbing due to the atmosphere. At this point, you were absolutely stuck in a corner as Jungkook stared at the way you’re completely aroused. 
“Ahh, um..” “Are you cheating on me, Y/N?” His eyes were now full of sadness and hurt and you could immediately feel your heart start to break. 
“N-no! Of course not! I would never cheat on you, you’re the one who I love! It’s just because..” you tried to get the idea out of his head, holding his hands tightly. Jungkook’s face brightened up a bit before being replaced with suspicion.
“So, what’s up? What were you doing while I left?” There was absolutely no talking yourself out of this because Jungkook would find out either way at this point. But at least it’s better than making up a stupid lie, right? “I..um..remember how you said you wanted to see me touch myself yesterday?” “Of course.” “Well...I was doing that..” you mumbled with embarrassment, avoiding his eye contact. Jungkook’s ears picked up what you said and his face lit up with excitement and desire. 
“Say that again for me?” he smirked, loving how soft and shy you were now.   
“I..was touching myself while I was thinking of you,” you said a bit loudly but it was still so embarrassing. You had no idea why he was all so happy right now but it made you happy nonetheless.
“Do you think you can show me?” he grinned, staring up into your eyes. 
“What?! N-no! It’s private right? You see, it’s private for a reason! Now you got your bag and figured out why I was acting weird so you can go now!” you snapped, heat automatically filling up your body. 
“It’s okay, I can skip practice today. This is important, why didn’t you tell me?” “It’s not something I should tell you.” “Anyways, you’ve been a bad girl today. Touching yourself while thinking of me, you’re so naughty. So your punishment is to reenact what you did before I came back and I’m not leaving until I see you touch yourself. But don’t worry, if you need help then I’m always here,” Jungkook purred, his dominant persona on. You gulped down a lump down your throat but you weren’t ready to back down to him yet. 
“No I’m not! I’m not giving up my dignity just yet!” “Come on, little girl. I know you were fucking yourself like a little whore while you were gone. Did your tiny little fingers fill you up completely, better than my cock? I know you didn’t because even though you’re a whore, you’re still such a slut for my dick.” His dirty words made you even more turned on than normal with even more slick running down your thighs. You knew it was better to obey, especially since he’s talking like this. With that being said, you scooted yourself with the back of your head hitting the bed frame. After a minute of hesitation, you lifted up your skirt which revealed your whole pussy to him. Jungkook stared intently, noticing every little twitch that it made as it’s longing for something to be inside it and how wet it has become. His lips were curled into a smirk as your fingers started to graze over your folds. 
Taking a deep breath, you inserted two of your fingers to aid the throbbing in your core. It felt  different than when you did it before, maybe due to Jungkook staring at every little movement you made.
Despite your initial refusal, having him watch over you turned you on even more and the throbbing only continued to get worse after you slowly started to move your fingers. You didn’t know how much it turned you and him on, judging from his erection in his pants. 
“Ahh, oh my god,” you moaned, adding an additional finger and groping your boobs with your other hand.
Jungkook’s mouth was in shock, shocked at how you can look so sexy touching yourself even though it was your first time. His dick was begging to be released in his now tight sweatpants but just watching you like this was more than enough.
He’s never admitted it directly to you but surprisingly, he’s such a voyeur and seeing you wrecked with only your fingers or even a toy could make him cum as hard as him actually fucking you.
“J-Jungkook, please…” you mewled, rocking your hips against your small hands in an attempt to hit your g-spot, where only your boyfriend knows. 
By now, you’ve inserted your whole hand inside of your core and it still wasn’t as satisfying as Jungkook’s long fingers inside you. You should’ve been embarrassed that his vision was at you masterbating but frankly, you didn’t care anymore.
“Shit baby girl, just like that, fucking ruin yourself,” he grunted, slightly stroking his hardened member through his sweatpants. 
“I want your mouth on me,” you cried, slowly starting to feel the same ecstatic feeling of your release. The way his eyes were set on you alone brings you closer to your high as you’re practically grinding on your hand. 
Luckily, Jungkook heard your wish and immediately brought his face down to your core, taking your fingers out and licking your clit like there was no tomorrow. His face was completely buried with the goal of eating you out and getting your cum out of you. It wasn’t a thought that ever crossed your mind but you never realized how much better Jungkook made you feel and how the throbbing seemed to go away after he was with you. His face was absolutely covered in your juices and adding to his warm mouth were his long fingers. 
“You like that don’t you, you slutty little girl?” he hummed, the vibrations of his mouth making you even more closer to the edge. You gripped onto his arm tightly, your fingernails dragging along his muscles due to how much he was giving you. 
You felt his fingers curl against you, hitting your g-spot and bringing you closer to your climax. It felt too good and you were craving to be ruined by him. Jungkook stared at the way you were shoving his hand amongst your tight little cunt, grinding on it as you try to reach your high and the squelching sounds it made. 
Within seconds, you were close to your orgasm and you were trying to chase after it feverishly. His tongue and his fingers were too much for you, even though you received them last night. They made you feel so satisfied and full, always filling you up to the edge and the way he was hitting every spot nearly made you cream all over his fingers. 
Unfortunately for you, he immediately pulled his fingers and mouth away, completely denying you of releasing. The hot feeling and intensity disappeared instantly and was replaced by the familiar throbbing as you let out a groan of disappointment. This was the second time you’ve lost your orgasm and you just wanted to release on him once more. 
“Why did you stop? I was going to-” you growled, your face heating up due to the increased temperature inside. 
“You’re not going to cum when I’m away. Is that a rule you can follow?” he said sharply, licking every remain of your juices off his face and wiping the excess with a tissue. 
“W-why?” “Instead, I want you to send me a video touching yourself but not cumming until my match. Is that an order my little girl can do?” 
You absolutely hated the fact that you won’t be releasing for a while but you didn’t want to get him mad. All you can do is just accept your fate and nod. 
“There you go, don’t worry, I’m going to make you feel so good once I win,” he grinned, kissing you passionately. You could immediately taste yourself on his lips and felt his hardened member upon you. There were more things that the two of you would’ve done but he wouldn’t allow that to happen. 
“Well then, I’ll be off. You’ll behave, right?” he parted cheerily, grabbing his bag and leaving the apartment like he didn’t just completely ate you out and denied your orgasm for the second time. As you heard the door lock, you’re left with your skirt drenched from your juices and the aching feeling between your legs. 
Oh the things that Jungkook does to you. But what would happen if you gave him a little surprise during his boxing match. Surely, you weren’t that submissive and besides, it would be fun to tease him..
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“You did great man!” Taehyung cheered, high-fiving Jungkook as soon as his match ended. He shared the same with a bunny-like smile and went inside the locker room to clean up to see you. Not only did he win but he’s going to be staying with you for a while now. 
With a bright spirit, he unlocked his locker and opened his phone to a text message from you. There was an attachment with a seemingly innocent message but once he opened the video, it only fueled his desire. 
[Y/N ♡]
- I miss you so much 
Inside of the video was you fucking yourself with your fingers, high-pitched and incoherent whimpers coming out of you and from the looks of it, it was like you’re about to reach your climax. 
Within the last few seconds, it cuts to you creaming all over the bed and licking your juices off of your fingers seductively with a cute wink at the end. All of that just to rile and tease him. 
Shit, the things that this girl does to me, Jungkook sighs, feeling his member starting to grow inside of his pants again. They were simple instructions yet you can’t obey properly. Maybe it was due to you being a brat and wanting to be put in your place again. 
Well, if there’s one thing that you and Jungkook know, is that you’ll certainly not walk the next day.
a/n: honestly, i’m not too proud of this but i hope you liked it regardless! let me know what you think and have a great day <3
919 notes · View notes
thefanficmonster · 3 years
Text
Casual
Ranboo x Reader (Female)
Warnings: None, unless talking about the future counts
Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: Following the arrival of the dreadful invitation to his cousin’s wedding Ranboo turns to the only cover-up he can think of to keep his still-single status hidden from his family.
Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! I’m so glad you sent your idea to me and I’m so glad you were my first official Ranboo request. I’m really sorry it’s taken me so long to write it but I still hope you’ll come across it and read it! Love, Vy ❤
“Heyyy, so Y/N, I have a favor to ask you...um yeah, call me back, it’s awkward sending it via voicemail. Bye“
Huh - that’s the first thought that goes through my head when I listen to the voicemail left after a missed call from my best friend Ranboo. The favors he usually asks for consist of requesting assistance for his videos in which I also appear with a mask and sunglasses to keep the brand running. I genuinely have nothing against my face being shown but when I think about it, I’m honestly a bit glad people can’t identify me.
Anyways, back to the favors, Ranboo is no stranger to asking me for them but they’ve never been considered too awkward for a voicemail which is why I’m no slightly concerned. I’ve been swamped with work for school and studies for the graduation finals for the past two weeks and it seems like I’ll never get on top of it and I know Ranboo’s been in a similar situation too, so maybe he needs help with that? He’s not used to asking help for school stuff, he sometimes even has a hard time accepting it when I openly offer it to him.
I eventually sigh, decide that playing this guessing game will not get me anywhere and settle on giving him a call as I make my way home from the gym with my legs barely putting up with the task of carrying me around.
He picks up on the second ring.
“Hey! Wh-...“
“Would you pretend to be my girlfriend for my cousin’s wedding next weekend?!“
My legs take that opportunity to stop moving in the middle of the sidewalk which is luckily void of any people at the moment. It’s not my fault my body’s first reaction was to freeze up at the question that came flying at me like an out-of-control jet, almost as though he’s been dying to say it and get it over with.
“Um...run that by me again please, I think I misunderstood.“ I say, blinking blankly as though awoken from a fever dream. No, actually as though I’m IN a fever dream right now.
“Ok, now that the cat’s out of the bag, wanna grab some coffee and talk about it face-to-face. I need to see your facial expressions to gauge what response to expect.“ He says, the previous nervousness gone and his voice calm as regularly once again.
I’m this close to face-palming but I squeeze my eyes tightly shut and bring myself to utter a reply, “Our usual spot. Be there in ten minutes.”
                                                             *  *  *
“No freaking way.“ I shake my head, folding my arms over my chest as I lean back in my seat in the booth we picked when we arrived. Good thing I got an iced coffee cause even a hot one would’ve gone cold by now considering I haven’t yet taken the time to have even a sip of it. I’ve been too busy listening to the long and short of the explanation and begging speech Ranboo probably made last night to try and convince me to agree to this nonsense. “Dude, we’ve been friends since middle school-...“
“Exactly! Who else was I gonna ask?“ He cuts me off, pleading gaze meeting my unimpressed one.
I huff before continuing my previous statement, “We’ve been friends since middle school so you know my opinion on weddings.” I put extra emphasis on the word ‘opinion’, giving him the clear hint at the distaste I’ve expressed on the topic multiple times before.
“And you know we’re on the same page there but there’s no way I can avoid going unless someone kidnaps me.“ He too now gets in the same stance as me, his coffee forgotten too.
I can’t help but snort out a little laugh, “I’d be more than happy to kidnap you considering the other option is far less appealing to me.“
He, of course, rolls his eyes at me as though he didn’t offer to do the same thing so I could avoid an exam but anyways. “So you’re gonna choose to fake a kidnapping that has the potential of landing you in jail over coming to eat some great food and maybe even have some fun at a wedding with your best friend? I’m hurt.“ He says, frowning to cover up the smile that’s fighting its way onto his face.
Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes, “I’d be kidnapping you, dummy...” I cut myself off to let out a long sigh and calm down before I go off at him. His smirk isn’t helping me much with the task either. I’ve known Ranboo long enough to know he’ll eventually convince me and he’s known me long enough to know how to do that exactly. With that in mind, there’s really no point in getting so worked up and wasting my energy. And so, despite my own rationality, I cave. “Fine, but I’m not staying the whole wedding.“
His eyes immediately light up and almost makes me feel the compromise was worth it. Almost. I mean, when you’ve been best friends with someone for so long, seeing them happy is worth more to you than your own comfort sometimes.
And he knows it too. Which is exactly why he outstretches his hand for me to shake and says: “Just one dance and you’re free to go. Deal?”
I take his hand without hesitations. That’s a better offer than I could’ve ever imagined. “Damn straight it’s a deal.“
                                                            *  *  *
“How long until you kick the heels off?“ Ranboo asks, bringing me a non-alcoholic cocktail and sitting down next to me.
I take a sip and giggle, “You kidding? I already kicked them off and replaced them with flats. I need mobility if we dance. They also lower the risk of me severing off a toe of yours if I step on you on accident.”
He laughs, clinking his glass against mine before he gets a bit more serious, “By the way, thanks for handling my family’s attack so well. I know it might’ve been a bit much but you handled it like a pro. Still, I’m sorry on their behalf.”
I shake my head and wave my hand dismissively, “Don’t mention it. I’d probably react the same way if my brother or cousin brought a date to an important family event like this.” I instinctively turn to look in the direction of where the majority of his family has gathered around, chatting with guests, smiling brightly. It’s hard not to immediately take a liking towards these people. They’ve been a second family to me ever since Ranboo and I started hanging out so I completely understand why they were so shocked to see me in the role of his ‘girlfriend’.
“I’ll tell my parents the truth later, our extended family is the ones I wanted to fool to be perfectly honest.“ He looks around as do I and we catch more than a few pairs of eyes fixated on us that turn away when they realize they’ve been spotted, “Mission accomplished by the looks of it.“
I chuckle. I’ve never felt so comfortable at a wedding before. I don’t feel stressed nor anxious despite knowing that there’s quite the number of eyes on me and there are whispers going around about my ‘relationship’ with Ranboo. It’s oddly calming and relaxing to be surrounded by some familiar and some unfamiliar faces. This cocktail is pretty great too.
Speaking of which, if it had any alcohol in it I’d blame it for the decision I’m about to make but this one’s entirely on me: I tap Ranboo with one hand while taking out my phone with the other. “If we’re already the talk of the wedding, let’s give them something to talk about.“ I say as I put up my phone, pretending to be taking a selfie leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek.
When I pull away I can clearly see that he’s still processing what just happened. I can’t help but burst out in a fit of laughter as I reach out to wipe the lipstick stain I left on his cheek. He looks like a lost, clueless puppy with the question: ‘what on Earth just happened???’ replaying in his head and it’s so freaking cute!
Wait....what was that? Since when do I use the adjective cute to describe Ranboo? Didn’t I think he looks handsome in a suit earlier too? The hell is with me today?
Then it hits me - the feeling isn’t foreign. Like, I know I’ve felt it before but I never analyzed it or even bothered to acknowledge it. But now that I do, I’m afraid of what it might be.
“There!“ I say, desperately trying to push the thoughts away along with this little firework show in my stomach, “Now you have pinker cheeks. Well, cheek, singular.“
As if snapping out of his state of confusion, he returns to Earth with a smirk, “Kiss the other to even it?”
Alright, his blush might not be even but mine now is and it’s ten times as intense and very much apparent but I don’t let the feeling shine through anything else as I proceed to actually kiss his other cheek too, wiping the lipstick stain.
“Thanks. You’re the best.” And just like that, as though it’s no big deal, he kisses my forehead.
See, that’s the thing, it shouldn’t be a big deal! It’s never been! This is far from the first time I’ve kissed him on the cheek or the first time he’s given me a forehead kiss. These are regular occurrences after years of this lovely friendship we have. Why do they feel so different now?
Then, much to my relief, the music starts and the lights turn off leaving only one spotlight for the groom and bride to have their first dance. They look absolutely astonishing and I can certainly say I’ve never before stopped to think that about any newly weds of the weddings I’ve preciously been to. I don’t know if it has something to do with the company I have for this particular wedding or it’s maybe the fact that my mindset’s changed over the years without me realizing.
Then I automatically look at Ranboo who just so happens to be looking at me too and all I can say is: my mindset hasn’t changed.
A loud applause takes over when the couple finish their dance, officially opening the dancefloor for any other pairs who’d like to occupy it and I’m happy to see how many people are eager to rush up with their partner.
 Ranboo gets up, putting the glass down and offers me his hand, “So, wanna dance? Don’t take this as a sign to leave though, we said one dance and you CAN leave, not SHOULD.” He says, giving me a warning look.
I roll my eyes and am about to give him some sass right back but he takes my hand and picks me up from my seat, leading me to the dancefloor.  And I gotta admit maybe it’s a good thing he did. If he left it to me I would’ve probably said no to the dance and ran the hell away. Why? - Cause I’m freaking terrified of this new mindset and point of view and these intense emotions I never used to pay any mind to before in regards to my best friend.
Friends don’t feel that way about friends. Friends don’t look at friends that way. What’s happening to me?
When I gotta look him in the eyes like this, not for the first time might I add, I can finally understand how the friends-to-lovers trope works: it’s all meaningless until it starts to mean so much to you. It’s all platonic until it reminds you of a romantic movie moment. It ‘best friends’ until it’s ‘I wish we were more than that’. It’s all casual, until it’s not.
And, unfortunately, it’s irreversible.
Damn do I wish I ran away now...
441 notes · View notes
kuroopaisen · 3 years
Text
after hours || kuroo tetsurou
➵ a late night study session might just end with kuroo having a heart attack over how stupidly cute you are. 
wc: 3.1k
warnings: f!reader, i guess it’s implied she’s short?, kuroo’s Dumb, i can’t stop thinking about the in-between someone get my own story out of my head please
a/n: hi i wrote this on a whim and for some reason it’s 3k i’m gonna yartz,,, kuroo brainrot let’s go! but thank you ren for beta’ing it yet again :( 
the in-between m.list
“But I’m tired,” you whine, plopping your face cheek-first onto your textbook.
“We’re all tired,” Kuroo goads, shaking his head. “Come on. The more we do now, the less we have to worry about later.”
“I know,” you whine. “You don’t need to keep reminding me.”
“I wouldn’t have to remind you if you just did your work,” he grins. “We know for a fact that leaving things to the last minute makes you really stressed.”
“Maybe I work best under pressure,” you mumble. “Ever considered that?”
“I have,” he smiles. “Now you tell me: is it worth the nervous breakdown?”
“You’re cruel and I hate you.”
“We both know that’s not true.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth,” you mutter.
“I think someone’s trying to procrastinate,” he chuckles, reaching over to ruffle your hair.
“It’s late,” you groan. “I’m tired.”
“You’ve made that very clear,” he grins.
You lift your head off the textbook, glare-pouting at him. Your attempts to look intimidating rarely succeed, and this is no exception. 
Kuroo can’t hold back his fond smile.
You look exhausted.
Your eyes are a little blearier than usual, shot through with red. Your hair’s a bit of a mess – not that you’ve really made an effort with it anyway – and you’ve got that dull pallor that seems to befall everyone deficient of adequate sleep.
Maybe ten forty-six in the evening was a bit late to be starting homework. And unfortunately for you, the focus for this evening is maths and chemistry.
Of course, Kuroo’s adamant that he tried to get started earlier.
(He didn’t think that the two of you would end up wasting so much of the afternoon just watching Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, but when he’d checked the time, he’d tried to move onto studying.
You, on the other hand, had other ideas.
“Just one more episode.”
“No,” he shook his head. “We’ve got work to do.”
“But we can’t stop here,” you whined. “I wanna know what happens.”
“We’ve got to study,” he’d replied, firm and strict and resolute.
But when you’d grabbed his arm and pouted up at him, saying “Please, Tetsu?”, his resolve toppled in on itself like a poorly constructed engineering assignment made of straws.)
“Hey,” he sighs, patting you on the back. “Let’s just try to get this chapter done tonight, okay? That’s all.”
“Okay,” you mumble.
He knows it’s a bit unfair; the chapter in question is a rather long one, with far more activities in it than the average. But he trusts you to understand what needs to be done – he wouldn’t be putting you through this if it wasn’t so relevant.
He wants you to succeed. He really does. And you both know just how hard he’s been working to help you get to where you need to be.
Time and time again, you apologise for taking up so much of his time, for asking so much of him. He always smiles, saying that it’s actually good practice for him, too – and, of course, you’re managing the volleyball team.
He insists it’s a two-way street.
Not that it matters. He knows that he’d still do this for you, even if he gets nothing out of it.
He finds it too hard to say no to you, after all.
Kuroo jumps as a solid three-rap knock rattles his door.
“Are you still up, Tetsu dear?” His grandmother’s voice sounds far too amused for his liking.
“Uh, yeah,” he swallows, getting out of his chair and opening the door.
His grandmother stands in front of him, dressed in her purple silk pyjamas.
(They’re a recent birthday present that you’d chipped in a bit of money for, even though Kuroo had told you it was fine – you didn’t need to.
You’d just smiled and told him that you wanted to say a little thank you for how kind she’d been to you.
He remembers that his heart skipped a little at your smile.)
“Goodness, Tetsu, I keep forgetting just how tall you are,” his grandmother chuckles, craning her neck to get a good look at his face.
“Maybe you’re just shrinking,” Kuroo grins.
“Don’t even joke about that, my boy,” she laughs, shaking her head. “That’s a very real possibility at my age.”
She pokes her head through the doorway, catching sight of you slouched in your chair.
“You look exhausted, dear,” she smiles, tilting her head at you.
“I am,” you whine, stretching your arms over the desk. “Your grandson is a tyrant.”
“Perhaps you and Kenma should stage a coup,” she suggests, eyes twinkling. “Dethrone this despot king and free yourselves from his incessant nagging.”
“I don’t nag!”
“Oh, is that so?” her smile widens. “‘Oh, don’t forget to drink this whole bottle, Obaa-chan. It’s important to keep your fluids up – especially at your age,’” she coos, dropping her voice an octave or so in her best attempt to replicate Kuroo’s tone. “‘Oh, Obaa-chan, come take a walk with me! You’ve been sitting in front of the TV too long. Let’s get those old bones moving.’”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Kuroo grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck, “we get the picture.”
“‘Obaa-chan! You shouldn’t be up this late! You don’t wanna wear yourself out!’” She continues, cracking a grin.
“Okay, okay!” Kuroo grouches, a sour look on his face. “Point taken!”
“I’m just teasing,” she grins. “Goodnight, Tetsu. And goodnight, dear! Don’t let him boss you around!”
“Yes ma’am!” You bark cheerfully.
She chuckles, shaking her head. But she says nothing more, ambling out the door.
Kuroo sighs.
If anything, he’s just glad she didn’t poke fun at him for having a girl in his room. Though he’s well-aware he should be grateful for the fact that he's trusted enough to not have his family snooping on him every five minutes.
Besides, being alone together in a room doesn’t mean anything. Even if…
He swallows roughly, forcing his mind to go blank.
No space for unsavoury thoughts here. None at all.
He shuts the door with a firm slam, turning back to you with his best poker face.
“So,” he hums, ambling back over to you and glancing at the textbook laid out on the desk. “What do you want to focus on?”
“Well, I think it’s time for us to talk about Pride’s true identity—”
Kuroo tsks, shaking his head. “We’ve had enough Brotherhood for one evening.”
You whine, slouching back in your chair. “Just one more episode?”
“No,” he laughs. “If we keep putting this off, we’re just going to have more to stress about later.”
“Fine,” you sigh, sticking your tongue out at him. “You’re no fun.”
“I’m starting to think hiring you on as manager was a mistake,” he grins.
“Excuse me?” You gasp, affronted.
“You’re supposed to be responsible,” he chuckles. “You know – able to make good choices and all that.”
“I do make good choices,” you glare at him. “I just hate any and everything to do with maths.”
Kuroo snorts. To be fair, he’s had the sneaking suspicion that you might be much better at chemistry if it didn’t involve so much mathematics.
“Besides,” you huff, crossing your arms, “the first years would riot.”
“You mean Lev would riot.”
“I’m sure Inuoka would stick up for me,” you say. “And you don’t want to make Shibayama sad, do you?”
“I didn’t say anything about kicking you out,” Kuroo grins, raising an eyebrow at you.
“I know,” you hum. “Just making sure you’re aware.”
Kuroo rolls his eyes playfully, flicking your forehead. “Whatever.”
The two of you settle down after that, returning to your blasted enemy.
You do fairly well, all things considered. Your focus is a bit off, but you make a good effort. And, like always, you manage to understand Kuroo’s layman explanations of things.
Of course, the two of you can’t help yourself – your study is punctuated by straying conversations that last a little longer than they should (Kuroo’s a big believer in the fifteen-five-fifteen study method, but sometimes there’s simply too much to say; a mere five minutes doesn’t cover it). Sometimes you simply demand to see Inu-chan, not budging until you’d given the Akita a good pat.
But tonight, even Kuroo tires quickly. He figures it’s probably because you started so late; something he promises himself he’ll never let happen again. Although, he’s not willing to bet money on it.
“Alright, I’m gonna go get a drink,” he sighs, stretching his arms above his head as he stands up. His interlaced fingers almost brush the ceiling. “Did you want anything?”
“I’m okay, thanks,” you sigh, putting your pencil down.
You’ve got that look on your face. The one you get when you’re faced with a particularly confusing equation or a concept you need a bit of time to wrap your head around. Kuroo knows it well; it’s usually soon followed by a quiet confession of worry and doubt.
“Hey,” he murmurs, reaching out a hand and ruffling your hair gently. “You’re doing better than you think you are.”
He wishes he could do more for you, wishes he could kick those awful feelings out of your brain. But there’s not much more he can do than this.  
You look up at him with wide eyes. Your features look so gentle in the light of his desk lamp, the shadows soft and diffused. You look fond.
Kuroo tries to ignore it.
“You think so?” You pout.        
“Would I lie?” He chuckles.
You peer at him closely for a moment, leaning close.
Too close.
Close enough for him to make out the intricacies of your eye colour. Close enough that he’s sure you can feel just how hot his face has become. Close enough for his mind to wander to a place it really shouldn’t.
He stands up sharply before he’s even processed what’s going on.
“I’m, uh…” He clears his throat roughly, scratching the back of his neck with one hand. “I’m gonna go get some water.”
“Okay!” You nod, smiling sweetly at him.
He doesn’t let himself linger, rushing off to the kitchen and pouring himself a tall glass of water.
He gulps the whole thing down at breakneck speed. His punishment for such hastiness is a hiccup that lurches his whole chest. Well, at least it shifted whatever weird feeling was there before.
What time is it?
He turns to the clock on the kitchen wall.
His eyes blow wide.
Twelve thirty-six. Oh, shit. He ponders, for a moment, if the clock is a few hours fast.
With a little nugget of guilt in his chest, he rushes back upstairs to his bedroom.
He opens the door slowly, not wanting to disturb the house. He slips through just as quietly, turning to say something to you.
You're lying on the desk again. But this time, your head is laid on crossed arms, your back rising and falling gently with each breath.
Kuroo’s heart feels like it might damn well shatter.
His first instinct is to pick you up and put you on his bed.
His first coherent thought is ‘what the fuck, dude?’.
He slinks towards you and places a gentle hand on your shoulder. He flushes at the contact.
What are you, twelve? He chastises himself. You’ve touched each other plenty of times before.
He immediately regrets that phrasing.
“Hey,” he murmurs, shaking your shoulder slightly. “Wake up.”
You’re motionless.
“Hey,” Kuroo whines.
“Hm?” You croak, stirring a little.
Kuroo draws back.
You lift your head and blink at him through bleary eyes.
Holy shit, he thinks. Holy fucking shit.
“It’s past midnight,” he says, ruffling your hair on instinct. Why he made the effort to yet again make physical contact with you, he doesn’t know. It’s a terrible idea, really.
“Ew,” you frown. “No.”
Kuroo shoves both his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. There’s no risk of him doing something stupid if he does that, right?
You’re staring at your phone, your eyebrows drawn together and your lips pursed.
He knows that look.
It’s the one you always pull when he (reluctantly) calls an end to whatever you’re doing before walking you home in the evening. And he doesn’t miss how you stick a little closer to him when it’s dark, or how you always seem to glance over your shoulder at each and every peculiar sound. And he certainly doesn’t miss how you ask him to text you to let you know he’s gotten home safe.  
You don’t need to tell him that you don’t want to walk all that way in the dark.
“Do you just want to stay here tonight?” He asks. He loathes himself for the weird fuzziness that churns in his gut.
You pout at him. He’s seen that face enough times to know that it means ‘please.’
“Wait here,” he smiles.
He hurries to the laundry area, rifling through his grandmother’s pile of clean clothing. There’s no way he’s going to let you sleep in your school uniform; it can’t be comfortable, and the fabric doesn’t seem breathable.
He goes through the pile once. Twice. Three times.
Nothing. There’s nothing he can lend you for the evening.
“Shit,” he mumbles, running a hand through his hair. Surely there must be—
Oh no. Oh no.
He catches sight of a plain black shirt sitting atop his pile of clean clothes. His face suddenly feels very, very hot.
It’s fine, he thinks. It’s not a big deal. My heart is not racing at the thought of her wearing one of my clothes. It’s not.
He grabs the shirt with a certain boyish carelessness, as if to prove to himself that he’s not losing his mind.
Sure, the blurry image of you wearing one of his shirts keeps trying to barge its way to the forefront of his mind, but it’s fine. It’s fine. It’s just a teenage boy thing.
He stalks back to his room with the whisper of a scowl on his face. Man, he needs to go to sleep.
As he opens the door, he catches sight of you mid-stretch. Your face is screwed up like a cat’s, nose scrunched up and eyes screwed shut.
But you’re cute. How is that cute? Why is that expression so endearing?
I’m delirious, he surmises. Probably because it’s so late.
He holds the shirt out to you with a stiff arm. “Here.”
Would you find it weird, him giving you one of his own shirts to sleep in? Would you think he’s being creepy?
You just nod as you take it from him, holding it to your chest with two hands like it’s a blanket.
Ah. So he’s overthinking it. Like an idiot.
“Did you let your family know?” He asks, trying to distract himself from his own fraying thoughts.
You nod. “I called them.”
“And they’re… fine with it?” His eyes widen slightly. Their daughter, staying over a night at a boy’s house…
“They were more angry at me for waking them up,” you pout. “But they didn’t have any problems with it.”
Kuroo’s heart swells. He’s trusted – your parents don’t mind this little arrangement. He’s not quite sure why he’s so proud, but he lets himself bask in it.
“Hey, Tetsu?”
“Hm?”
“Could I please have some water?” You mumble, rubbing one of your eyes with your knuckles.
He dashes out of the room a little quicker than he usually would – almost like his body had moved on instinct to fulfil your request.
By the time he gets back to his room, you’ve finished changing.
Kuroo’s certain he’s going to explode.
His shirt is so big on you – it’s already a bit roomy on him – grazing your lower thighs and giving him the overwhelming desire to wrap his arms around you. Your eyes are half-lidded, your cheeks puffed out a little, your hair all messy and unkempt. You look so sleepy, so cute, so—
He thrusts the glass of water towards you, cringing as the liquid sloshes dangerously close to the lip of the cup.
“Thank you,” you smile, your face lighting up as you take it from you.
Kuroo doesn’t fail to notice how your fingers brush against his as you do so.
God, he really needs to get some sleep.
“You stay in here,” he swallows, gesturing to his room.
You blink at him for a moment before realising what he means. “Wait, really?”
He nods. “I’ll just sleep on the couch.”
“No—” You’re pouting at him, misplaced guilt shining in your eyes.
“It’s fine,” Kuroo grins, ruffling your hair on reflex. He swears he zaps his fingers. “Now, you get some sleep.
“Fine,” you mumble, glare-pouting at him. “But you’ll… you’ll pay for this.”
“Will I now?” His grin broadens.
“I will,” you nod, comically resolute. “Wait, no—no, you will.”
Kuroo laughs, ruffling your hair again and reaching to—
Woah. Woah.
Where’d this sudden urge to kiss you on the forehead come from? That’s… weird.
He draws his hand back quickly. He can’t risk doing anything stupid.
“Now sleep,” he tuts, pointing you to the bed. “But don’t forget to drink your water.”
“I know,” you huff, turning around and scuttling towards the bed.
Kuroo turns around sharply, making a beeline for the door. If seeing you in his shirt was enough to make his brain go haywire, then seeing you in his bed…
He’s pretty sure he throws you a ‘good night’ before pulling the door to his room firmly shut, but he can’t be certain. He’s too busy taking a deep breath, trying to filter all the unsavoury and alarming thoughts out of his brain.
You’re his friend. He’s not supposed to want to kiss you on the forehead, to hold you in his arms. Hell, you’d probably think it was weird enough that he finds you so damn cute. And God, the thought of making you uncomfortable…
The guilt roots itself deep as he grabs himself some blankets and pillows from the laundry cupboard, dragging himself towards the couch.
He throws himself onto it face first, trying to ignore the burn running through his body. It feels like he’s on fire – and that pouty, sleepy expression of yours is scorched on the back of his eyelids.
This is normal, he reasons. He’s just a normal, hormonal teenager who likes girls. And you, a dear and beloved friend, just so happens to be a girl. This is unfortunate, but it’s fine. It doesn’t mean anything more. Right?
You’re just friends. Nothing weird going on here.
Besides, it’s not his fault. Anyone would’ve been endeared by what he’d seen tonight.
You’re just too damn cute.
Right?
687 notes · View notes
billiebeanhoward · 3 years
Text
Silence - Multi Character
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A/N: hello this has been an enormous project for me to do. Thanks for @stayevildarling for the prompt and for the help with this. Apologies, it's a long one. Tenses are a bit fucked but just go with it.
Prompt: Each character receives a mysterious invitation to visit a Hotel Cortez in LA to prove they're not alone in their struggles
TW: alcohol, mention of murder / death, cigarettes, swearing, mention of character death, hints at suicidal ideation,
Word Count: 4480
Tag list: @stayevildarling @okpaulson @mrsdeanhoward​
Working at Kineros Robotics for the vast majority of her life, nothing really fazed Wilhemina anymore. Especially with the bullshit her bosses come up with daily, but when the redhead finds a strange invitation on her desk that morning, she never thought her life could get any stranger. The invitation that was written, well, typed, on very fancy looking stationary, held coordinates to a Hotel she never wanted to visit in her existence, but when she sees there is a list of nine other women's names, she assumes they're women, anyway; It piques her curiosity regardless and later that evening takes the rest of the weekend off work so she can drive the few hours to the Hotel.
Never been one for tardiness, the redhead arrives a mere twenty minutes early, the receptionist with ridiculous glasses asking her if she had booked a room to which she banged her cane and left towards the bar without a word.  Conversation, socialising has never really been her strong suit, you can really blame her mother for that. She had been isolated from the outside world for most of her life growing up. Thinking back, she's glad for it. People are despicable. The bar isn't too shabby, not that she could complain, dark, quiet, she quite enjoys the ambience. Her cane clanks, hitting off the floor as she makes her way over to the bartender.
"And what can I get you, this fine evening?" she, she assumes, smiles politely. Nice enough.
"Anything purple?" her nose scrunched at the ridiculous request that leaves her mouth and she scolds herself silently moments before the bartender points a finger at her.
"You know what? I have just the thing," she turns around to pour the drinks, Wilhemina watching her every move, "So what brings you here?"
"Is that any of your business?"
"Oh, no, not at all." she shakes her head, "Enjoy your drink," Wilhemina eyes the mysterious neon concoction in front of her momentarily, before spotting a straw holder in the corner of her eyes and she reaches out to grab one when a hand grazes over her own.
"Oh, sorry," a British woman with a blonde pixie cut says quickly, pulling her hand away. "You look familiar, do I know you from anywhere?"
"No, I assure you, you don't."
The blonde put the green straw into her whiskey? before sipping it, "My name's Audrey, Audrey Tindall. I know what you're thinking..." Does this woman ever shut up? "I'm not related to the royal Tindalls, no."
"Did I ask?" Wilhemina cocks her head a little towards her and she quickly shies away, "Get out of my sight," The blonde scurries off to the other end of the bar while Wilhemina tries to enjoy her drink.
-
"Mom, what's this?" Ally looks over her shoulder, her arms elbow-deep in her sink as she washes up the dishes from dinner.
"Not sure, Ozzy. Can you read it for me, Sweetheart?"
"To whom it may concern, You are not alone.
34.0443° N, 118.2508° W
Ally, Audrey, Bette, Billie, Cordelia, Dot, Karen, Lana, Sally, Wilhemina. What does it mean, Mom?"
Ally empties the sink and clears away the dishes before wiping her hands on a towel, "I really don't know, does it say anything else? Give it here," she holds her hand out and he passes it to her as she studies it curiously.
-
"Karen!" The woman turns her head towards the door at her friend with a little smile on her face, "Guess who has mail?"
Her eyes widen in anticipation, "No, you're joking! Me?"
"Of course you! Open it." Mickey smiles as he passes it to her. She excitedly rips open the envelope, careful enough not to destroy the contents and unfolds the paper curiously. "Well, What does it say?"
"A bunch of numbers and names, Mick I think this is just junk,"
"No, Karen, the first mail you get in years, it can't be junk. Let me see," she passes it to him and in the dimness of the room, he looks at the letter. "They seem to be coordinates for somewhere,"
"Like for treasure?"
"Exactly, well, you never know, but could be someone who wants to murder you for all we know. But look, it says You are not alone."
"Course I'm not alone, fuck face, I have you."
-
Cordelia sets aside her paperwork for the evening, cradling a cup of hot coffee in her hands, she sighs as she takes a look at the monstrous pile of work ahead. She nudges her glasses further up her nose as the door of her office swung open. "Madison, how many times have I told you to knock?"
The younger blonde rolled her eyes as her arms crossed against her chest, "And why would I do that?"
"I could have been doing... something." the Supreme says before taking a sip from her coffee.
"When exactly was the last time you got laid, Cordy?"
This time the Supreme rolls her eyes before glaring at the younger witch, "And when was the last time you got laid, Maddy?" she snaps back, Madison slumps her shoulders, the smirk that graced her lips disappearing quickly, "What do you want?"
"I forgot to give you this when the mail came this morning," she absentmindedly threw a letter down on the desk before storming out.
Cordelia once again rolled her eyes at the girl, eyeing the mysterious envelope before picking it up.
-
Wilhemina looks down at the watch on her wrist whilst trying to figure out who exactly she's supposed to be meeting. The bar is seemingly quiet, and she stays seated at the stools near the bartender, Liz, who had told her her name, although she definitely didn't ask. Liz is a talker and a very annoying one at that, although Wilhemina is quite enjoying her company right now, or rather lack of as she attends to other women at the bar. A thought enters her mind at that moment, the name Audrey did ring bells, although not any ridiculous royal ones. She pulls the letter out of her blazer pocket and adjusts the glasses on her nose. There. The second name. Audrey. Was that her? Great. Now she does have to actually go off and talk to the chatterbox. She rolls her eyes before sighing, picking up her cane as she makes her way over to where Audrey is sitting, she seems to be sitting next to a brunette who did look quite familiar.
"Oh, hey!" Audrey greets, getting up from her place at the booth seemingly for Wilhemina to seat next to her. Wilhemina quickly turns around grabbing a chair from behind her and drags it to towards the table closer to the brunette instead, "Oh," the blonde says before pulling out a packet of cigarettes from her purse. "Do you mind?"
"I do actually, yes," Wilhemina says and the brunette turns to her.
"Are you here because of the letter as well?" Wilhemina nods and the other woman brings out her hand towards her for her to shake it, "I'm Ally, Ally Mayfair-Richards?"
"You're the one that was in that cult weren't you?" Wilhemina says. This has got to be the most interesting thing that has happened all night.
"Oh." Ally pulls her hand away looking around slightly awkwardly, "So you don't know me from my senator work? How did you know about the -"
"I saw it on this silly show I watched on the True crime channel."
"Right. So must know a lot about me then," she sips from her wine and Audrey annoyingly, despite Wilheminas dismissal, lights up a cigarette. "What's your name."
"Wilhemina Venable."
"Oh your name is Wilhemina, it's such a -"
"I'd prefer to be referred to only as Ms. Venable." Fine. Wilhemina has now made this awkward, thanks mouth. Change the subject. "Seven more women to find," she states, looking at the two, her hand gripped tightly around her cane. "Is this some sort of gangb-" Nope. "Right, I'm going to get another drink, excuse me."
"Sally that girl, what can I get you?" Liz asks a blonde that is definitely stuck in the '90s. Her hair is fully crimped, her outfit choice, however, is far more ridiculous, fishnet tights, a very short skirt, revealing shirt. Stop staring.
"The usual," she mumbles before diverting her attention back to the woman beside her. "So, are you from Tennessee? You're the only ten I see," Wilhemina almost spits her drink out as she hears the conversation between the two.
"No actually, I'm from Massachusetts." the brunette says, nodding slightly, clearly slightly uncomfortable.
"Oh, it's pretty close though, right."
"No you blonde idiot, it's a 17-hour drive," Wilhemina says and the blonde turns to look at her and this time she looks at her face.
"Did I ask you?"
"No, course not. I just like correcting idiots,"
"Well, I'm sorry we all couldn't afford to go to private schools," the blonde then storms off somewhere else, Wilhemina genuinely doesn't care. The brunette, however, slides closer over to Wilhemina.
"Thank you," she smiles.
Wilhemina's face turned to one of a fish, "What for?" The other woman continued sipping from her drink before leaning a little too close for comfort to Wilhemina before taking a deep breath.
"Is this.." she pauses, Wilhemina only furrows her brows at her, "Is this a 'girl' bar?" she asks curiously, "I'm only asking because..."
"Good question," the redhead smiles as she looks around the room, only women are seated, mainly bundled together with Ally and Audrey," Maybe this woman is one of the names on the list too. "Surely hope not," she mumbles. She doesn't want to make conversation but it seems she needs to. "What brings you here?" she continues to drink the nuclear waste that Liz calls a drink and looks at the brunette. She seems familiar too.
"I... This is going to sound really weird."
"Not as weird as that, I assure you," she points behind her and the brunette turns around to see a woman with two heads walk through the door with the frizzy blonde talking to them.
"Probably just as... How is that possible? That's fascinating." The brunette brings up her purse and pulls out a notepad."I'm a writer, you may have read my book. It's quite popular among women." She speaks but Wilhemina isn't listening. Distracted by the definition of fucking weird that just entered the room.
"You girls here for the "meeting"?" the frizzy blonde asks them and the head on the left nods. Creepy.
"Nice," she grabs a cigarette, it hanging from her mouth lazily as she spoke. Ok, so far there are Audrey, Ally, writer girl, the one Liz called Sally, the two-headed beast... Wilhemina looks around and spots another blonde speaking to Audrey and Ally. So extra blonde. And a homeless woman sitting at the back end of the bar.
"If you're here for the meeting, come over here!" extra blonde calls out over to her table and Wilhemina rolls her eyes, her cane clanking loudly as she walks over to the table. "I'm Cordelia Goode. Supreme of my coven in New Orleans."
"Ally Mayfair-Richards, I came here from Maine. Had to find a babysitter before I drove all the way here,"
"Audrey Tindall. Had to get a flight back from England."
"Lana, Lana Winters." the writer girl added.
"Wait.." three heads turn to her. "How is that possible?" Ally spoke.
Lana shrugged, an uncomfortable smile gracing her lips, "What do you mean?"
"You're... young?"
"Oh, wow, am I that old?"
"I- no of course not."
"What's that?" Wilhemina turns her head towards the left of the beast as she stares down at Sally's cellphone.
"Oh, come on I've been stuck here since the nineties and even I know what it is." she rolls her eyes.
The right one furrowed her brows. "90s?"
The two of them stared into space for a moment, their expressions changing every so often as if they're in a conversation and Wilhemina shakes her head and diverts her attention to the homeless one toddling over to the rest of the group. She looks paranoid, looking over her shoulders as if someone is following her.
"The rest of the introductions?" Audrey says, bringing the letter out and Lana handing her a pen from her purse before she ticks off the names of people here. "What's your name, sweetheart?" she asks the homeless one but she doesn't answer, peeking into the massive tote bag on her shoulder before Wilhemina hits her ankle with her cane to gain her attention.
"I'm not telling you my name. I don't even know who you are," she states
"Why are you sitting with us then?" the right one says before the homeless one gives them a look.
"I know people like you, fuck faces, huge assholes," she mutters
"I'm Dot, this is Bette, "Right one says almost headbutting the other
"I can introduce myself, Dot,"
Dot turns her head to look at her, "Well you were taking your sweet time,"
"Okay, we're only missing Billie and Karen."
Sally chuckles, her cigarette still hanging from her mouth, "That's definitely Karen," she points over to a blonde with wavy hair, pink blouse, pearl necklace and a pencil skirt and fake nails. "I actually thought you were Karen until you said your name is Audrey," she looks to Audrey and Wilhemina purses her lips trying to stifle her laugh.
Audrey looked offended as if someone ran over her mothers already dead body. Her nostrils flaring as she leans over the table towards Sally, "And what do you mean by that?"
Before anything happens and all hell breaks loose in the Hellmouth they already were in, the homeless one squeaks up. "I'm Karen."
That's it. Wilhemina laughed. "What's so funny?" Cordelia asks the redhead who continued chuckling as she tried to drink her acid.
"Nothing, continue."
Lana finally pieces the puzzle together, "That's Billie."
"Congratulations, would you like a gold star. I'm sure Mommy senator here has plenty for you." Wilhemina chuckled at her own joke because it was funny. The other women did laugh too. Billie made her way over somewhat gracefully, her hands flaring as if she's trying to pick up a watermelon. Karen probably has one hidden in that Mary Poppins bag of hers.
"Good evening, girls. I'm Billie Dean Howard, Medium to the stars." she flutters her fingers around like one of those stupid ASMR videos that Wilhemina has not ever watched before and took a seat beside Bette and Dot.
"Were you the one who sent the letters?" Bette asked, her fingers fiddling with the hem of the dress she shared? with Dot before Dot slapped her fingers away.
"No, I assume you're all here for the same thing. As am I. Unfortunately, it had to be here though,"
Cordelia sighs, shifting uncomfortably in her seat seeming to know what the hell Billie was actually talking about. "I know, it's like they're screaming in the walls."
Liz comes over handing Billie her drink while giving a pointed look towards Sally, "What? I didn't kill everyone here, y'know."
"Your reputation says otherwise." she turns to the rest of the group, "Enjoy your stay,"
"Does anyone actually know what this is about... Wait I know you, I've seen your face on the side of a bus," Audrey says excitedly
"And I know you, Ms Audrey Tindall. Making a big name for yourself I see after My Roanoke Nightmare." Billie smiles at her and Wilhemina gives a look of impressive to the two blondes.
"Oh god don't. My shrink is still drilling it into my head that it wasn't real."
"What wasn't?" Lana asks curiously, her notepad in hand as she continued to write notes.
"You haven't seen the show?"
"What show?"
Wilhemina diverts her attention towards Ally's and Cordelia's conversation although it seemed to be about cheating exs so then she focuses on what Dot, Bette and Sally were saying.
"It's 1952 where you're from?" Okay, now that is interesting. "How did you get here?" Sally points her phone in their faces.
"Can you please get that thing out of our faces! It's scary," Bette says,
"We killed our mother and you're saying that's scary." Fine. She stood up and made her way to Karen.
"Don't want to talk to you." she mumbled, seemingly comfortable slightly curled up in the seat.
"I don't want to talk to you either." Hmm, maybe the homeless one isn't too bad after all.
After a few extra drinks, everyone seems to be in a better mood, laughing, joking, much to Wilhemina's dismay, and even still trying to make conversation with her. Which she has done. Gotten to reluctantly know more about those with who she was almost forcefully made to be made acquaintances. Sally stood up on the chair, wobbling slightly as she tries to regain her balance. "Ladies, Unfortunately, Liz is closing up for the night." most women whined but Wilhemina was genuinely happy she finally got to go home. Was this it? What exactly was this about? "But... We can take this party up to my room,"
Wilhemina almost growled to herself, the thought of being at home a lot more comfortable than being in a hotel room with nine other women. All women stood up and followed Sally to the elevators. Billie and Cordelia following behind as they chatted.
Wilhemina slowed her pace a little mainly because she felt like her back couldn't handle it but also because she wants to know what the two blondes are talking about. "If the letters weren't really from you, then who was it?" Cordelia asks
"I genuinely thought it was you, dear. Seems like a 'you' thing to be bringing in people of all backgrounds, especially lonely ones at that,"
"I'm not lonely. You don't even know me." Karen pipes up defensively, still holding her bag close.
"No, not at all." Billie shakes her head, "But I do know when one is feeling lost and doesn't know how to get back up," she says before rushing off to get to the others.
Wilhemina's steps slowed as she enters the elevator, not one for taking the stairs. She opens her mouth but Cordelia is quick to speak, "I like your hair," the redhead raises an eyebrow at the blonde, a hint of a blush rising on her cheeks.
"You're drunk, Ms. Goode,"
"Oh, please. Call me Cordelia. I'm nothing like my mother." she says before her expression turns somewhat sorrowful. Her mouth opened, slightly agape seeming as she wants to speak but she doesn't. So Wilhemina decides it's humane of her to change the subject.
"You know Ms. Howard?" she looks down at the floor, the elevator dinging indicating their arrival on the floor where Sally's room is located.
"Oh yes, she's not a witch though," the blonde slightly stumbles out, almost tripping on her heels when Wilhemina rolls her eyes reaching her arm out to catch her.
"I didn't ask," she states, although she is due for another awful round of dosed up fuckery that is her medication she fights through it, tries to anyway. Liz's miracle drinks seem to be working fine as an atomic type of painkiller. She allows Cordelia to loop her arm around her shoulder, hers around the blonde's waist as they walk down the hallway towards the room Karen just strangely snuck into as if she's there on a heist.
"You know of my story then?" Lana asks seemingly gobsmacked towards the other women, "And not from my book, from my talk show? One I don't even have yet?"
"How exactly did you get here?" Audrey asks curiously as she sits down on the bed, crossed legged like an elementary school child.
"I received the letter, like the rest of you. I took the train. Fell asleep, woke up at the station and everything was different but I couldn't really explain it. Then I asked around about the coordinates and someone guided me to this hotel."
"The same thing happened to us," Bette smiled at her but Dot was quick to scold her
"Don't listen to my idiot of a sister, we've never been on a train in our lives. We woke up, found the note at the foot of our bed and started to get ready for our show."
"Show?" Billie asks before closing her eyes for a brief moment. "Does the name Eudora mean anything to you?"
"We work fo-" Bette starts
"No, absolutely not. Bette, we're leaving."
"But we've been having so much fun, Dot."
"No,"
"She says she forgives you."
Tears well up in both their eyes for a moment as they sit back down on the bed. Wilhemina slowly helps Cordelia sit down on the armchair beside them and awkwardly perches on the arm of said chair.
"She forgives you Bette for what you did but," she closes her eyes before facing Dot, "She doesn't forgive you for what you tried to do to your sister."
An awkward silence filled the room, only to be heard are the sniffles from the twins and the lighting up of cigarettes before Sally broke the silence, "You know, I would probably do anything to have a sister and you tried to kill her?" Dot looks away ashamedly.
Bette, sweet Bette, she seems so childlike, she just smiles, "I would do anything to make my Dot happy,"
"I would rather kill myself than let anyone treat me the way she treats you." Sally rolls her eyes "And I'm dead," she brings her hand to the side of her mouth as if she's revealing a huge secret.
"At least she's not alone," Ally says, sipping on more wine. "I'd do anything for my son, the way Bette clearly would for her sister."
"And let her kill herself?" Audrey remarks, "That's not love."
"Wouldn't you kill for love? Fight for others."
"I'd rather be a lover than a fighter, because all my life, I've been fighting." Lana says, "I've lost the love of my life and had been through so much I ca-" tears escape her eyes and Audrey curls up beside her, wrapping an arm around her frame.
Karen opened her mouth wanting to speak, most of them probably expecting her spewing profanities but instead, her face was calm, "I've never felt a feeling of comfort. All this time, I've been hiding. Where I'm from the stupid fuckfaces who live there..." There we go. "All they do is just think I'm some mad homeless woman -"
"Aren't you?" Wilhemina blurts out, a smirk gracing her lips and Karen glares at her.
"That's not the point, you fucking, purple, fucking, dragon bitch."
Wilhemina tilts her head, impressed with the insult. "Carry on."
"I don't want to anymore."
"I never had someone to call my own," Bette says, her usual smile now a frown as she fights back her own tears
"I'm so used to sharing." Dot mutters, looking down at her fingers. Billie reaches out to hold their hands to comfort them.
"Love only left me alone," Audrey says,
"I've found peace in the violence, can't tell me there's no point in trying," Sally says, cigarette hanging from her mouth as she speaks, mascara running down her face
Wilhemina thinks it's her turn to speak, Cordelia looking at her intently from the seat. "I'm in need of a saviour," it feels like she confessed her deepest darkest secrets. Words she would have never thought she would say out loud to anyone. She sees Billie lift her head as if to speak "But I'm not asking for favours," she says, Billie nods understandingly.
"My whole life, I've felt like a burden," Cordelia pipes up, her chin quivering as she spoke. "I think too much, and I hate it"
Ally pulls a small face, finishing her wine before she spoke, "I'm so used to being in the wrong. I'm tired of caring."
"Loving never gave me a home" Karen speaks again, probably feeling a lot more comfortable with the group now. Which is surprising as she acted as if they would kill her.
"I'll sit here in the silence," Billie says. She hadn't said anything. She gave a small smile before lighting up a cigarette. Wilhemina only groans, now her clothes probably stank worse than an ashtray at the amount the four women had smoked like a chimney. "I'm at one with myself. I've been quiet for so long."
There's silence for a few moments. Not uncomfortable at all, surprisingly. Although plenty of tears, small sobs escaping and a few hugs. This was needed. Everyone felt seen, even in the silence of the room. They felt heard. They all understood and could relate one way or another to each other and, maybe the letter was right. You are not alone.
But the one question is... who was the one who had sent it?
Maybe someone out there who cared enough for each woman individually and knew their struggles maybe even up to a personal extent. Maybe whoever sent it just wanted the women to know that they are loved and people do care.
Maybe it was you.
-
The night was slowly coming to an end, the women started to say their goodbyes when Lana had an idea, "Sally?"
Sally lifted her head from where it lay on Cordelia's shoulder as the two blondes were almost fast asleep. "Hmm?" Wilhemina stood, collecting her cane ready to leave but Cordelia's hand stopped her, grabbing onto the hem of her blazer.
"Give me your cell number, I have an idea." the brunette gave Sally the pen and paper and Sally wrote her number down, passing it back. "If I remember you'd hear from me again," then the brunette vanished. Magic tricks aside, most of the women were either too drunk or half-asleep to even react. Sally's phone began ringing loudly, Wilhemina picked it up, disgusting fluffy case in hand as Sally snatches it from her.
"Hello?"
"Sally? It's me, Lana. Put me on speaker." the familiar yet different voice said. The women looked, Wilhemina observing from the door until she noticed Bette and Dot aren't there either.
"Lana, it's you?" Audrey says, tears in her eyes, "God I've missed you." It's been less than two minutes you dramatic blonde. Wilhemina rolls her eyes as Lana chuckles down the phone.
"I've missed you too, Audrey. It's been fifty-five years since I had last heard your voice."
Wilhemina, now confused, was ready to leave. She pried the sleepy blonde away and left. On the way back to her home, she magically bumped into Billie. "What do you want?" she almost snapped.
"We're wondering if you'd like to meet back up at the hotel again next week." the blonde smiles, of course, cigarette in hand. Wilhemina sighed, as much as she hates to admit it she really did enjoy the company in comparison to her lonely nights at home in the silence.
"Okay," she says, Billie, raising an eyebrow at her expectantly.
"Okay? That was easy,"
"Don't think it'll be any easier than this, Ms. Howard, I'm a busy woman."
"Hm, I'm sure."
"If Ms. Winters is.. a woman of age now, What happened to the Tattlers?" Wilhemina asks out of curiosity, Billie purses her lips as she thinks of an answer.
"They're gone. They're at one with the silence."
"Good night, Ms. Howard." Wilhemina opens the door to her car.
"Good night, Ms. Venable," Billie says but Wilhemina can literally hear the smile that's on her lips as she says it. "Oh, Cordelia wants me to give you her cell," Billie hands the redhead her number through the crack of the window. "Then you don't have to be at one with the silence for so long. Neither of us do. We have each other now, just remember that. All thanks to Y/N."
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lewispandora · 3 years
Text
Middle of the Night | Wong Yukhei (Lucas)
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In which you and Lucas can’t be together but still do it in secret in the middle of the night. 
Pairing: idol!Lucas x fem!reader
Genre: angst, smut, fluffy (?)
Word count:  1.8k
WARNINGS ⚠️: cheating, sex
A/N: It's really important to say that this was my first smut EVER. Actually, it was the first thing I wrote that was over 200 words lol. So please, be understanding to anything that is just not it yet – I promise I’ll get better with time. Also, this was inspired by Monsta X's Middle of the Night (those who know this song will get it as soon as they start reading it tbh). Another thing: although there is smut in here, this is not supposed to be a smut-focused scenario, the focus here is the agnsty situation Lucas and y/n are in. I’ll try to write a part II for this.
Ten and Yangyang’s thin screams could be heard all over the dorm followed by an angry and very Chinese Kun shouting “It’s too late for this!” Hendery was running after Bella who had one of his shoes on her mouth and Leon jumped from the dinner table to Xiaojun’s lap, spilling the Dak Gomtang he was having all over the floor. Winwin and Lucas could hear him exclamate “Oh no! Leon, it was the last portion! That is all Ten’s fault!”, although they both remained unfazed: it was just another normal late night in the WayV dorm afterall. 
“Louis, come here, come,” Winwin called for the cat, extending his hand towards him without taking his eyes off the phone. “Good boy,” he said after feeling the fur on his hand, patting the cat’s head. “Hey Lucas, do you want to watch something? Our schedule tomorrow is late anyway-” 
“TEN TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR THE CAT!”
“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN BY THAT? LEON WAS WITH YOU!”
“YES BUT IT WAS YOU WHO TAUGHT HIM TO BE SMART!”
“CAN YOU GUYS STOP SCREAMING, DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS?”
“Why do I even live with these people?” Winwin sighed. “So, what do you say?’
Lucas was just going to say yes when his phone vibrated with your message. It was simple and short: 
“Can you come over?”
It was all he needed. 
“I can’t today, I’m going out.”
“What do you mean you’re going out? It’s winter midnight, Lucas. It’s her, isn’t it?” he asked, already knowing the answer just by the head tilt Lucas gave. “Dude, for how long do you intend to keep with this? Xuxi, you can’t-”
“Just save it for another time when I am devastated and will actually be willing to listen to you, okay? We both know it won’t take too long to happen anyway.” Lucas said and left the room. 
He got the first coats and first boots he could find, knowing he couldn’t take too much or you could change your mind. He knew it quite well, it was not the first time he was in this situation. 
To be honest, you two didn’t remember when you first met and it wasn’t important. The relevant facts were that you were truly and deeply in love when the time came for him to debut. As an idol, specially a SM idol, you could not even think about staying together: any scandal evolving Lucas meant a scandal evolving all NCT members and that was something he just couldn’t do. You understood him because deep down you always knew it would happen. So you distanced yourself from him for a while, met a rich guy ten years older than you and decided to stay with him – not because he was a nice guy because he certainly wasn’t, but because it was your way to remind yourself that Lucas was actually not the bad guy, he suffered just like you did. 
You two barely talked for ten months until his birthday came and he had the audacity to invite you. That was when everything started. Lucas was just as stunning as ever, his eyes glowing by the faint mention of the new permanent subunit he was in or the members that inhered it. But it was nothing compared to the way he looked at you when you  arrived. 
Feeling as dislocated as you could feel, you stayed in the corner for most part of the party, just capturing Lucas’ moves throughout the entire party. Mark was the closest NCT member you knew so you didn’t mind when he approached you all of a sudden to say:
“Hey! Heard you got into the university you wanted, congratulations, y/n!”
“Oh, thank you Mark. Congratulations on the success you are having down there in America as well.”
“Thank you. That’s sweet of you.” He took a deep sip of his drink. “So, why don’t you try talking with him more? I bet no one is going to find it… weird. Go there, I know you want to.”
You were indecisive for a moment, switching your gaze between Lucas and Mark but, being backed by his securing look, you held your breath and stood up, going straight to the birthday boy. That was when he looked at you and directed his cute, excited and goofy smile towards you that you found out: you were not only truly and deeply in love with Lucas. You were also madly crazy for him. 
Ever since then, you started doing the most insane thing you thought you would never be able to do: everytime you missed him too much and you knew your boyfriend wouldn’t appear, you sent Lucas a message asking him to come over. It didn’t matter what you guys did, it just had to be in between four walls and kept a secret by both of you.  You didn’t care what it was nor what it meant, you just had to have him. 
Tonight was one of those nights. Tired from all the college studies and your work, you took advantage of the fact that your boyfriend was in Daegu for a business trip and decided it was the moment to call him. 
Lucas took less than thirty minutes to arrive at your studio. He didn’t even wait for the door to be properly opened before taking you on his arms and kissing your lips.
“Why did you take this long to message me?” he asked, lips still connected to yours. 
“I’m sorry, it was the end of semester. I barely had time to sleep and I wanted to have a clean schedule so I could be only for you.” Nothing more was needed to be said. He knew you meant it.
Rapidly closing the door, Lucas turned himself back to you. Caressing your cheeks, he felt his eyes water. He was just so lucky to have you, even if it wasn’t as a whole. Even if it was just for a brief moment. Even if you actually weren’t his.
“Come, I have your favourite snacks. We can eat while relaxing, watching something.”
“I only want you,” he said softly, holding your buttcheeks and squeezing them while pushing you closer to him. The kiss shared by you two started calm and romantic but swiftly got fast and very needy. You pulled Lucas' hair a little bit, trying to contain the heat growing in your lower body but soon giving up. 
“Just take me. Take me, please.”
Slowly directing his kiss to your neck, Lucas moved both of your bodies towards your bed, gently placing you on it. He grinned just by looking at your body under his. You were so vulnerable and, no matter what others said, so his. He took your pyjamas while taking his time to kiss every single part of your body, eyes not leaving yours even for one second, stopping only after having you in your lingerie. 
Now it was your turn. Moving his head up to face yours, you started taking his clothes off. Some could feel bothered by the amount of layers due to the wintry cold but it wasn’t the case for the two of you. All you wanted to do was feel and kiss each other, deep gaze at each other. And that’s what you did. After taking his coat, jumper and shirt, you found yourself lost on his soft lips again. Kissing him passionately, you stroke his hair, slightly pulling him afar so you could down your kisses to his jaw. 
Lucas sighed at almost every touch of yours on his body. He had this soft look eyeing you, had given up trying to stop smiling a while ago. You kept going down his neck, placing wet kisses and smooth bites here and there just to make him abruptly lose air. You stopped to look at him once more before moving down to where a happy trail would be. Anticipating what was to come, Lucas held strands of your hair and lifted you chin so he could kiss you. 
When your mouth watered his manhood, it was still covered by his pants. You placed kisses in the entirety of his cock while massaging his balls, not taking your eyes off his. Lucas was so beautiful in every angle but this was by far one of your favourites. Smirking to yourself, you lowered his pants, revealing a knob wet by precum. 
Just the direct contact of your mouth and his dick was enough to make Lucas groan loud. The effect you had on him was indescribable. You started taking him with your mouth and hands but slowly let him play with you while fucking your face. Even doing so, he made sure to fill his actions with suavity and passion. When he felt he was close, Lucas switched places with you, putting you under his body again. 
“Y/n,” he said as he started trailing down kisses from your neck to your venus mount “you are so beautiful, so precious, so  special. I hope you know that.” And with no previous warning, he buried his face in your pussy. 
Eating you out into oblivion while kneading your breasts, Lucas made you quiver and arch you back like no one else ever did, like only he was able to. Making you moan his name and other inaudible things, you came undone. Not wasting any time, Lucas directed himself towards you, kissing you, making you taste your own juices. 
With no previous warnings, he sank his dick inside you. One hand holding himself over you and the other holding you hand, Lucas started his thrusts slowly but quickly lost patience. Moaning your name while hearing you moan his, Lucas bit your lips, your jaw, your neck and your collarbone, trying to contain the killing amount of pleasure he was feeling – and trying to make you feel the same. Lucas was a sinner and he knew this well but he also did not care a bit: all he wanted was you, was to feel and fill you. 
With sweat covering your bodies and shameful noises leaving your mouths, Lucas started to pound into you even harder. He was going crazy, completely mad. There was not even an inch that should stay untouched by him, not a single piece of your body that shouldn’t have his traces in it. You didn’t know where your mind was for a while already, all you were able to do was mark Lucas’ back while bouncing to his pace and moan his name uncontrollably among with other sounds which meanings are to be known. Actually, you did know: amiss. A terrible one. But you couldn’t care less. 
When your bodies couldn’t take it anymore, you both gave in to the suffocating feeling and came together. You crying in pleasure, Lucas filling you with his love. That was all you two needed. You were happy again. You were complete again. 
Unfortunately, the moment was not dogged to last too long. Before the sun rose up, without people noticing his steps, before the traces of your damnable actions could be alluded, Lucas would go back to his ways in the middle of the night just to pretend nothing really happened.
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1994sunflower · 3 years
Note
Hey! First of all, I love your story SO MUCH, you’re such an amazingly talented writer! Also, I was wondering if you could dig deeper into Micheal’s soft side (never get tired of it) in which maybe Y/N is sick, like she collapses for high fever or something, and he has to take care of her
thank you so much!! and ofc, I love exploring michael's soft side. he can be such a sweetheart when he wants to be (which is like never lol).
in which you’re sick
It would have been bearable if it was just exam week. You’d done that a million times. But the fact that you were also doing grad school applications along with your extracurriculars - suddenly you felt as if there was not enough hours in the day. In a week even.
Even with the sacrifices you’d made. You’d taken to forgetting food times. When you did remember, you’d have to eat during one of your other activities, usually studying and that just led to spills and half eaten food. It had only been about a week into these habits that you had gotten sick with a cold. It wasn’t a surprise, you were overworked, exhausted - no wonder your immune system was depleted. But it made your work and concentration that much more difficult, you’d cried more than once at the circumstances.
But maybe the hardest has been forgoing seeing your beloved boyfriend. It wasn’t that he was a nuisance, it was just that he was distracting and right then, you didn’t have to time to deal with distractions. Lest he succeed in distracting you like he so often does.
It’s been nearly two weeks since the last time you saw him. Something he agreed very begrudgingly to. But he knew how important your grades were so he agreed nonetheless. You texted him nearly hourly but still it felt nothing like having his comforting presence right next to you. It might have been the reason you caved and let him come visit you after he insisted. Not that he likely would have accepted your denial. He missed you just as much and he needed to see you, especially with how worried he was starting to become.
He used the excuse of bringing you lunch and you, weak and missing him, accepted it, knowing he would probably try to stay for much longer than just that.
But you could deal with that and him firmly when it came to that. He always listened to you.
You were at your desk, crumpled papers beside you, tissues, and about ten different tabs open on your computer, with the beginnings of one of your many application essays open on your tablet. You kept alternating between the two works and by the end of it, you almost felt a hysterical scream wanting to leave you. Nothing was good enough.
When you heard the keys clinking at the door, was the only time you had snapped out of your almost unhealthy focus on your work. By the time you realized just how awful you look, it was too late. Your hair was in a ponytail, different strands already falling out of the scrunch by how much you tugged at your hair in frustration. You wore no makeup and the bags under your eyes were more prominent than ever. The sick pallor to your face was probably so much more obvious, if the sniffles and occasional cough didn’t give your sickness away. Not to mention the pajamas that still adorned your body.
But Michael had already opened the door before you could even think of last minute changes to your appearances. All you could do was turn around in your chair to face him, clearing your throat in hopes of pushing back any coughs.
Just as it’d been nearly 2 weeks without seeing him, it’d been 2 weeks of you living this mentally drained lifestyle. And you looked it. Not that it mattered. Michael had never made you feel insecure or anything but the prettiest girl he’d ever laid his eyes on. He loved you, no matter how you looked.
And that was proven when he finally took you in after 2 weeks of not seeing you. His eyes shone with the same love they always held when he looked at you, now with also a sense of relief at finally being right with you. No hint of judgement.
There was a third emotion there too. Worry. But you didn’t have time to try to dissect it because you knew it would just lead him to get you to take a break and lose time you could be spending on working.
Normally you’d be the one who greeted him first, excitedly. But you were too tired to hold that same energy and you hadn’t used your voice for anything other than frustrated groans. All you could do was smile weakly when Michael lifted the bag of food in his hands. The action made you swoon just a bit, you knew it was likely his first time being so attentive to someone, going beside himself to make sure they’re fed and bring it to them. He never would have the same detail with anyone else.
“Got your favorite.” Michael gravely voice finally hit your ears and you had to close your eyes for a second. You’d missed him, much more than you had allowed yourself to think of.
Opening them back up took more effort than you wanted to think of. It seemed that now that you weren’t hyper focused on the work in front of you, the mental tiredness you had been ignoring was finally starting to seep in.
When you stood, you had meant to say a ‘thank you’ before walking over to serve your food but the moment you got to your feet, you felt a wave of dizziness overtake you. Your body swayed for a moment, only stopping when one of your feet that had almost lost its footing, stomped down and you took a hold of the back of the chair you just left. Eyes closed tightly to try to center yourself.
When you opened your eyes, Michael was staring at you with wide eyes, intense with the worry that had been there before much more prominent. “Are you okay?”
You nodded, coughing slightly despite yourself. “Yeah, sorry. I think I might just be hungry.” You tried for a giggle to lessen the mood but Michael didn’t smile or relax at all. His eyes just raked in your figure.
“Are you sick?” That would have been bad enough but if he knew you were sick and didn’t tell him so he could have made sure you were okay, all hell might break loose.
“Sorry I didn’t have time to make myself look better today, okay?” Your tone was a lot snappier than you intended for it to be and that he expected, as evidenced by him rearing back in surprise. You were just so tense. But instead of apologizing you just made your way over to him. No wobbling, no swaying. You were fine.
You didn’t want to deal with defending how you took care of yourself (or rather how you didn’t). You didn’t have time anyway. You’d barely have time to eat what he brought you but the least you could do was eat a bit of it.
“It smells great.” You sniffled. You tried to reach for your food but Michael moved the bag back. His eyes never left you, analyzing every little move you made. It was unnerving. You couldn’t imagine how others withstood his gaze whenever he was angry at them.
“Y/N-” You made an impatient sound. Every time he said your first name, he was serious. And somehow, right then, it made you defensive. “You said you only needed a few weeks to focus on your shit and that you’d be fine without me having to check on you.”
“I am fine.” You muttered yet you couldn’t quite meet his eyes when you said it.
“Yeah? Is that why you got dizzy just from fucking standing up?” His words were harsh and loud but you knew it was because he never really figured out how to show concern any other way. He was worried.
“I told you, I’m just hungry. I didn’t have breakfast today.” But maybe it wasn’t the right thing to say because you saw his eyes flare up with even more concern and anger. But right then, after spending days multitasking and still not even making a dent on the work you needed completed before your rapidly approaching deadline, you were able to match those emotions.
“Michael, I’m really not in the mood to argue with you today, okay? I’m busy and if I’d known you came here to judge everything I’m doing I would have told you not to come. I’m doing my best! Why is that….why…”
It was getting hotter in the room. You’d felt the warmth all day - week even - but as your anger and voice rose, so did the temperature. You barely had time to register the light headedness.
Your breath was shaky by the time you finished your rant and your eyes becoming suddenly distant as you looked around, confused, before you were falling backwards. You would’ve hit the ground if Michael hadn’t moved first and caught you in his arms.
You didn’t hear the frantic calls of your name, more scared than perhaps anyone had ever heard him, the apathetic man he was, sound. You didn’t feel the way Michael’s hands gripped your body, trying not to move you too much lest he do more damage. You didn’t feel the same dropping of his heart when he saw you go down and the freezing fear in his veins. The only thing you felt was his huge, shaky, sigh of relief when you opened your eyes a handful of seconds later.
With much effort, fluttering them to try to keep them open. You couldn’t really see what was in your line of vision, everything was so blurry. Eventually, it was too much effort and you kept them closed, but you felt yourself being picked up and carried. His heartbeat was fast, you felt as he carried you with your face pressed against his chest.
The first movement you made when he finally put you down on the soft bed was furrow your eyebrows, then your hand was rubbing your face. By the time you opened your eyes, confusion set in “What…?”
You didn’t finish when you looked beside you, seeing Michale on his knees next to the bed to be on your level. He looked paler than you’d ever seen him, eyes wide and watching you like a hawk.
It was then that it hit you that you didn’t really know how it ended up that he carried you into your room. You remember getting mad at him, the warmth that slowly overtook you, then the next thing you knew, you were in his arms.
Panic struck you next. How much time had you wasted? You had a final paper due by the end of the week. You had to submit an application in two days.
But when you attempted to sit up, much too fast if your dizzying head was anything to go by, Michael pushed you back down. No longer trying to negotiate with you. His eyes shown fiercely - letting it known that there was no room for compromise.
You couldn’t stop the four coughs that escaped you as you stared at him, pleadingly.
“Don’t.”
“But I have to-”
“You just fainted, Y/N.” Michael almost sounded mad but the waver in his voice gave away his true emotions. “You’re sick and your body’s exhausted, obviously. You’re not going to do shit. You’re going to rest and I’ll��handle it. Contact your professors or whatever so…don’t worry about deadlines or anything.”
His voice made it clear there was no point in fighting against him. Even though his relationships with professors was less than friendly and he never cared enough to ask for extensions for anything before in his life.
He took your hand in his big ones, dropping his head to rest his forehead on top of your fingers. As gentle as you’d ever seen him. “Why haven’t you been taking care of yourself?”
You didn’t answer for a long time and you were grateful that he wasn’t looking at you anymore so he couldn’t see the way your eyes filled with tears and your lip wobbled. You didn’t mean to scare him, or neglect yourself. But if you took the time to do anything else, you’d be behind. You were so tired.
“I d-don’t know.” You said as a few hot tears ran down your cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
You felt his hands brush some of your hair from your face softly. “You scared me.” He admitted and somehow, you knew that for Michael, admitting that weakness was hard. But he didn’t mind being vulnerable in front of you.
His eyes bore into you, almost too intensely for you to be able to handle. Until his hand came up to your forehead and you found the excuse to close your eyes so you wouldn’t have to watch the worry in his.
“You have a fever.” He got up and you didn’t even get the chance for your sluggish brain to wonder where he went before he was already back, carrying a small bowl of water with a rectangular mini-towel on top. You weren’t sure how he knew exactly what to do for you, how he seemed so soft and tender in these actions that were so unlike him.
He put the cool, wet towel on your forehead as he sat next to your lying form on the bed. He was so close to you, leaning over you. You were scared he would get sick because of you but when you finally opened your mouth to speak again and told him so, he ignored you. As if that was the last thing he was worried about.
From the moment you collapsed, his attention had been on you and nothing else. Nothing else mattered in his mind. And that translated in every attentive action that made you feel so taken care of. This side of your brash boyfriend, the caring, delicate side at a time when you needed it most nearly brought tears in your eyes. It made it very obvious that despite what he might seem to everyone else, he was the perfect boyfriend, would make the perfect husband. For you. He made you feel supported and at home even when your body and energy seemed to be turning their backs on you.
“I’m hungry, Mikey.” You tugged at his sleeve. You weren’t sure if you were, really. You’d gotten used to the pulsing headache from the lack of food throughout the week. But judging by the heaviness of your eyelids, threatening to close and the weakness in your body, in your energy, if you didn’t eat, you might shut down again.
Your voice was croaky but he didn’t comment on it. His answer was almost automatic, “I’ll get the soup I brought you.”
You’d almost forgotten why he had been there in the first place. He’d insisted because he had missed you. And you missed him. He came to take care of you, going out of his way to do what he would never do for anyone else, just never imagining you were at your limit.
It was almost embarrassing. Being in your weakened state in front of him and having him tend to you like a child. Especially when, sitting up in your bed with a disorientation and a feeling of tiredness that seemed to be the only things you could truly feel at the moment. Plus the muted feeling of stress that never seemed to go away; it was screaming that you should be doing your work, that you’d fall behind.
But you didn’t have time to dwell on it before Michael came back with a bowl of warm soup in his hands and sat next to you again. Saving you even from your own thoughts without realizing it. He placed the soup on your nightstand and it wasn’t until he began to get a spoonful that you realized he meant to actually spoon feed you.
To think of your boyfriend doing anything so nurturing seemed almost unnatural. Yet here he was, without an ounce of hesitation or embarrassment. It was such as mismatch from his personality, his reputation and it melt your heart to think that he cared about you so much to throw all of that away for you and his worry for you.
You could only manage a feeble, “You don’t have to…”
Michael stared at you silently for a while, not a decipherable emotion seen in his face, before bringing the spoonful of soup up to your lips. “I want to.”
And while you knew Michael wasn’t a big talker, those three words dripped with sincerity. Matching the loving actions and gestures he was currently doing for you. It was clear, if it wasn’t already before, that nothing was more important than being there for you when you needed him the most.
He didn’t let you talk again until you finished the food, feeding you each sip. Until he was satisfied that you had eaten enough to compensate for your lack of nutrients the weeks he spent without you. This was just as new to him as it was for you to see, this side of him. Doing things that he never would have dreamed of doing for someone else. But it felt like second nature when he saw the woman he loved more than anything else in such a vulnerable state. He yearned to take care of you, to provide for you. To keep you happy and healthy. Especially with how often you take care of him.
“Was it good?” He asked. Though he knew you would’ve liked it. If not simply for the fact that you hadn't eaten much else then certainly for the fact that he went out of his way to go to your favorite restaurant and pick your favorite item from their menu. The one you got every time he took you there.
You nodded, “Thank you.”
You weren’t expecting it when Michael enveloped you into a hug. So tightly you couldn’t even hug him back even after you got over the shock. His face was buried in your tangled, messy hair. He breathed you in as if taking in the fact that you were okay, he mumbled into your hair, “I know how much you care about school and how hard you try because of that but….none of that shit matters compared to you.”
It was so hard for him to be without you for so long. But he did it for you, to give you the time you had asked for to focus on your work. It had never occurred to him the bad mental state the solitude could leave you in, what it would do to your physically. If he had known, he never would have let you be alone. He would’ve fought you tooth and nail if it was what it took but he would have checked up on you, been there for you. And that’s exactly what he’ll be doing from now on. He’ll be there for you.
“Get some rest,” He reluctantly let you go. “You need to sleep.”
When Michael got up, though you were objectively much too warm because of your fever, you felt a lonely cold. You didn’t want him to stay away so you could study and work anymore. You needed him and all the comfort he brought to your soul. And he didn’t want to leave you anymore either.
“Mikey!” You called to him as he switched off the light to your room. You heard him hum in answer. “Don’t leave, please.”
He didn’t answer you. But you felt him get into bed beside you, kicking off his shoes as if it wasn’t the middle of the day - as if he had nothing else he would rather do than sleep right then next to you. And by the way he put his entire day on hold the minute he saw your condition, you guessed he didn’t. You had an inkling that while you had every intention of not letting him distract you when he had first arrived, that he had already been planning on staying the entire day anyway.
You were glad he did. You wouldn’t have been able to keep going the way you were if he hadn’t forced you to confront your self-neglect and tended to you with such dedication and love.
Both of you were silent and you could feel your tired body begin to drift to sleep when your boyfriend spoke up from beside you. “Promise me you’ll start looking after yourself, no matter how stressed or how much stuff you have to do. Promise.”
You weren’t snuggled into him like you would want. But you could feel him on his side, staring at you in the dark. His voice was serious with a hint of desperation. He needed to hear you say it. To know that his loved one would never be put in such a mistreated circumstance ever again, you didn’t deserve it. Nothing deserved to have you feeling anything but cherished, healthy and confident. Not even yourself. Because he believed in you so completely.
Though he never planned on leaving your side, emotionally or physically, to have any negativity enter your thoughts or habits ever again. He was willing to carry the weight of the world if it meant you would feel the strength and happiness that had been beat out of you.
“I promise.” Your words were small but it was good enough. Michael took you in his arms then, again not caring for any risk he was running of getting sick himself.
The next time you spoke, it was mumbling against his shirt. “I’m sorry you had to see me like this. I must’ve looked so gross because I didn’t really get ready all week and I-”
“Shut up.” His words held absolutely no bite, they were whispered. “I don’t give a damn what you looked like today. You never look bad to me. I only cared about making sure you were okay. And I’ll keep being here to make sure, I’m never leaving you alone again. I promise. No matter what you say.”
Your heart felt so full at his sweet words, just for you.
Then it was back to the comfortable silence. Until you began coughing again, this time against his chest and you tried to pull away quickly, both scared for his health and embarrassed. “Michael, seriously, you’ll get sick.”
But Michael’s strong arms were like steel bracketing you to his body. Unmoving despite your protests. He only cared about finally keeping you to him, where he knew he could protect you and keep you close, especially after so long without you and having your health deteriorate because he wasn't around.
“Yeah, maybe I’ll get my own class extensions then if I do.” He said it seriously, and knowing his academic achievement, or lack thereof, you didn’t doubt he meant it.
But still, you couldn’t help but giggle at his words, knowing he was smiling right alongside you without even having to see it. It felt foreign, laughing after so long of your negative thoughts and stressed lifestyle but nice especially because of all those things. A positive, carefree spirit that filled you because of your loving boyfriend and being so cocooned in his protection right at that moment.
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ey8508 · 3 years
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Rumors and Secrets: Victor | 李泽言
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Note:
R&S for this card (CG above)
Chapter SPOILERS up to Season 2: Chapter 18-21 (read at your own risk)
Contains 5 chapters
Translation isn’t 100% accurate (or include grammar errors)
Every part for LZ’s dialogue would be in “this setting”
Do not repost to any other site (reblog is fine)
Chapter 1 Page 1 It's no exaggeration to say that the name "Li Zeyan" has run through my entire high school era.  This "evil fate" probably starts with a 31-point Chinese test paper. I'm Gao Qishan, only 17 years old at that time, but there are so many things that usually interest me. Games, animations, and football are nothing compared than reading a book in a room. But hey, it's a pity that my dad doesn't think so. "I only scored 31 points in the Chinese test, and I'm still here with a hippie smile!" In the study, the old man blew his beard, looking disappointed, "How can my son be so useless!" Page 2 "Your son is very capable. I was the MVP of the basketball game last night!" "Your PPP is useless! You are in the second year of high school, not the second grade of elementary school! You have a 31-point score and you have a face to play basketball? You don't have any shame or a competitive spirit. Do you not want to go to college anymore?!"  . I was about to reply impatiently, the old man took out a magazine from somewhere, poked his hand at the cover and yelled at me: "Look at the person. He founded the company at the age of 20. In just two years, he has been on the "Business Rising Stars" cover interview! Look at yourself again, someone who is almost 17 years old and does not have the realization of it, do you want to be in the worst generation in the future, ah?!" Page 3 I'm not happy to hear this: "What's so great about starting a company? Your son, I will start a company in minutes!” "I'm almost out of school, and I started my own company? Oh, I'm going to be better!" The old man raised his head, and the thick magazine almost hit my handsome face.  "Learn from others, and don't give me daydreaming here!" Page 4 I grabbed this "Business Rising Stars" with enthusiasm. A decent young man in a suit was looking ahead through the photo. On the cover was a striking headline: "Li Zeyan, an astounding leader in Lianyu City.” "This title is exaggerated!" Even if I was taught by Lao Gao, I was inexplicably better compared with this Li Zeyan, and I just threw the magazine under the sofa. Who wants to learn from him? Just looking at it is a tarnish to my ability! Page 5 But somehow, at night I tossed and turned and I couldn't fall asleep! The more I closed my eyes, the more uncomfortable I was, what did Li Zeyan do. When I turned over for the 100th time, I suddenly sat up. It was a task by old Gao to read the magazine anyway, so I decided to retrieve the magazine and just take a look. After sneaking into the study room, it took me a long time to find the magazine in the innermost part of the sofa. Page 6 "... Although Li Zeyan is only 22 years old, he is already the president of Huarui, an emerging medium-sized company in Lianyu City.  Starting from scratch, he started from a small office to now has hundreds of people. Every step he walks is particularly solid and decisive. Li Zeyan’s way of business is beyond ordinary. He is like a lion, born with a King's aura." All these compliments just for this, isn't it just descriptions of someone starting their own company? I just haven't paid much attention to reading.  Just relying on my ingenuity, and getting a high score on the tests, it is absolutely nothing when it comes to starting a company. Hmph, just you wait. Chapter 2 Page 1 The university in City A is not only one of the top five in the province, but also the top five in the country. It is a university that I, Gao Qishan was admitted to dignifiedly! How about that, I said I'm absolutely fine. In a blink of an eye, the freshman year has passed. In the past two years, I have also paid a little attention to Huarui. The development has been okay, it has not closed down, and the scale has doubled.  It's just normal development. Is it worth the old Gao's praise from time to time?  Every time he flipped through a financial magazine and sighed, "You are so young, so good", it sounds a bit too much. Page 2 As the saying goes, "Seeing is believing", I think this sentence is right.  Taking advantage of the summer vacation, I decided to apply for Huarui's summer internship to see in person how the company is, just not to waste my talents and financial knowledge. Soon I entered the building, but how can the interviewer in the middle feel a bit familiar, the more I look at it, the more I recognize... Wait, isn't it exactly Li Zeyan?! What's happening, is Huarui going bankrupt? Why is the president personally do the interviewing for the summer interns? Page 3 "Manager Chen has something to do, I happen to be free." Probably my shock expression was too obvious. Li Zeyan flipped through the information at hand and looked up at me blankly.  "Gao Qishan? First, briefly introduce yourself." I don't know what's going on. I was so startled by Li Zeyan that I couldn't help but straighten up.  After swallowing my throat, I mobilized all my attention, took a deep breath and said, "Hello, my name is Gao Qishan, and I am a freshman in the Department of Economics and Management of the University of City A..." Page 4 After introducing himself, Li Zeyan asked a few more related professional questions. This kind of small question is nothing to me. It seems that Huarui’s interview is nothing more than that. He occasionally knocked his fingers on the table subconsciously, and asked with a deep gaze: "Why do you want to come to Huarui for an internship?" The continuous response made me more and more relaxed. I changed my sitting position and quickly thought about how to deal with this new question. Judging from previous information, Li Zeyan is a person who likes to win at everything. He should appreciate the kind of answers that seem extraordinarily confident, right? Page 5 After carefully thinking about this, I straightened my back and raised my chin and said: Although Huarui is quite a new company, it has grown at an amazing speed, and the achievements it has made so far are obvious to all in the industry.  And although I am a freshman student, I think I have a very strong learning ability. In this regard, I have a lot of similarities with Huarui. Therefore, I think Huarui is very suitable for me and will definitely make me grow faster. Of course, I can definitely give back the same freshness and vitality for Huarui. With a confident smile, I finished my speech and waited quietly for Li Zeyan's nod. But to my surprise, a few seconds later I was greeted by a frown from Li Zeyan. Page 6 "It seems that you have confidence in yourself. To be a man and to do things really requires self-confidence, but everything must be controlled." Li Zeyan stared at me and said in a hurry, "Only by maintaining reflection and introspection can we truly make progress." I understood his words, and my face flushed. A few days later, I really received a notice from HR (Human Resources) and I didn't get hired. Page 7 Although I had a foreseeable result from Li Zeyan's remarks, when I really received a reply and recalled the interview scene, I was still very angry. After my sophomore year, I went back to the final exams and tried to fight for the first place. I'll make sure that my ambitions are not just mere words. I have written down the "new hatred and old hatred" on my notes. I will definitely use the shortest time to create my own territory, leaving Huarui far behind! Chapter 3 Page 1 Today is the first day of my "Yuanshan Group" moving to a new building.  Morning light came in from the spacious floor-to-ceiling windows, and I stood by the desk, proudly holding on to the brand-new office chair. In the next semester of the junior year, I used the dividends I participated in the project as the start-up capital, and I didn't need a penny higher than the old one, so my "distant mountain" just rose from the ground.  Isn’t it just 20-year-old to start a company from scratch? What's the difficulty?  When I founded Yuanshan, I was exactly 21, and the rounding is almost the same as Li Zeyan.  Because of this, my old man, Lao Gao stopped training me long ago, and I guess he must have praised me secretly. Page 2 In just a few years, Yuanshan has grown from a small company of eight people to a scale that now occupies a seven-story high-end office building, and the suffix has also changed from "company" to the word "group".  To be honest, my founder is very satisfied with Yuanshan's growth.  Although there is still a certain distance from Huarui, after all, they are also developing along the way, but it doesn't matter, I am still young, and sooner or later I can catch up. It didn't take long before the opportunity to "catch up" came. Page 3 I was originally interested in the land to the north of Lianyu City. When I heard that Huarui was also planning to bid on that land, I became more interested.  The Lianyu Municipal Government intends to develop the somewhat hindered northern side. At present, construction has begun to build a crossing bridge and a shopping mall, and this piece of land is nearby. "It is more than enough to build a six-star resort with 18,000 square meters and the supporting facilities can be added. Maybe Huarui made the same idea." I have paid attention to the recent developments of Huarui and have invested in four resort hotels one after another. The senior management of the company also agreed that the land is worthwhile, and if it can be won within the highest valuation of 89 million yuan, it should make a profit without losing it. Page 4 A month later, I came to the auction site with confidence.  Sitting in front of me at ten o'clock is Li Zeyan, the president of Huarui in a suit and leather shoes. After a few years of absence, I can finally compete with him. On the stage, the auctioneer gave an impassioned introduction to the land, and then said in a melodious tone: "The starting price is 35 million, and the auction will begin now!" As soon as the voice fell, several companies immediately raised their signs. But my opponent is Huarui. It is still early, so I have to wait for Huarui to make a move. Page 5 When the bidding became increasingly fierce, Li Zeyan finally raised his placard for the first time: "60 million." The opponent finally appeared, and I immediately raised the number plate: "61 million." As if he was just encountering an ordinary bidder, Li Zeyan never answered with words, but raised his placard again: "70 million." I continued to chase: "71 million!" Side to the front, Li Zeyan seemed to raise his eyebrows slightly. After a few seconds, he raised the number plate again, and said: "80 million." Page 6 "81 million!" As if finally realizing my bite, Li Zeyan glanced at me slightly sideways, then he raised the number plate, the noise was low and clear: "90 million." This figure has already exceeded the company's highest valuation, and the assistant quietly tugged on my sleeve, beckoning me to forget it. But if I really give up on this, I still feel no sigh of relief in my heart. The auctioneer has already shouted in front: "90 million twice." Page 7 "100 million!" My voice came out, at the last moment. Of course, Li Zeyan finally gave me a straight look. I watched his hand nervously, and saw that the number plate was never raised again, and the auctioneer had already shouted excitedly: "One hundred million! Yuanshan Group has come out of one hundred million! One hundred million once! Three hundred million!, make a deal!" Page 8 Finally got it!  Such a valuable piece of land I believe it will be a great help to Yuanshan, and it’s just around the corner to get rid of Huarui. I didn't even consider the cost of 100 million yuan. I just felt that my body was comfortable and exuberant, and the bright prospects were beckoning me. When Li Zeyan passed by me, my triumphant pride couldn't stop. "Thanks to Mr. Li for the bidding this time." Page 9 Li Zeyan put his suit jacket on one hand, and passed by me. I thought he would argue with me back, but Li Zeyan just raised his eyebrows uninterested, and then strode away without looking back. Okay, as the winner of the auction, I allow the loser to occasionally gaffe. Just when I was gearing up to do a big job, the Finance Department urgently sent a bad report. Due to my "passionate bidding", Yuanshan's capital chain suddenly had a problem. Chapter 4 Page 1 I urgently convened a high-level meeting, and after several discussions, the best solution at present turned out to be to invest in Huarui! Personally speaking, I have a hundred reluctances in my heart.  Not long before the auction, I took the initiative to bow to Hua Rui. Didn't that slap me in the face severely. However, the cruel reality lies in front of us. Yuanshan is not only my own person, but also the collective effort of hundreds of employees.  To let Yuanshan survive this crisis steadily, I can only and must "take the initiative to surrender" to Huarui. Forget it, "vote" just "vote"!  Although it was a mistake in my decision-making this time, Yuanshan's development prospects are so good that Li Zeyan should never not invest as long as his eyes are correct. Page 2 However, the negotiation process is still more difficult than I expected. It is not that Huarui has no intention to invest, but almost all the conditions listed are on the lowest line of the distant mountains. "If I remember correctly, the creditworthiness of Huarui's previous investment in the gaze lock company is not very high." I fought hard against the low pressure, and Yuanshan's creditworthiness has always been in the top four in the industry. "...with Yuanshan's creditworthiness Huarui's right to speak will definitely be improved. I think Mr. Li can think about it again." Page 3 "Do you think you are still eligible to negotiate terms with me?" Li Zeyan straightened his mouth, exuding deterrence, "...Huarui Investment in Yuanshan is not for charity, and has no obligation to pay for your suicidal behavior." He raised his hand and glanced at his watch, with a hint of impatience on his face: "Think carefully about it yourself." The long negotiation was finally over. Although Yuanshan and Huarui finally reached a cooperation intention, the whole process failed me. I thought I was about to be on the same line of competition with Li Zeyan, but I was beaten back to the former "interviewer" again. Page 4 By the area downstairs in Huarui, I was smoking a stuffy cigarette, and suddenly there was a faint sound of footsteps behind me. It turned out to be Li Zeyan. Although he was still expressionless, the murderous aura and arrogance from the negotiations seemed to have diminished. Li Zeyan steadily walked to my side: "Gao Qishan, I remember you once came to interview for a summer internship." I didn't expect Li Zeyan to take the initiative to speak. I was surprised. He said: "Several years have passed, and it seems that self-confidence is increasing." If it wasn't for my lose, I stood up slightly: “Although I made a mistake this time, as far as the strength of Yuanshan is concerned, I have the capital to be confident." Page 5 "Yuanshan's strength is indeed pretty good, but don't rush to eat the cakes that you can't eat for the time being. Being high is far from a long-term plan for enterprise development." Li Zeyan said lightly, and took out a card from his pocket and handed it to me, "There will be a practical business forum in Lianyu City next week. You can come and listen when you have time." A practical business forum? What do you mean, is he mocking me for being too pragmatic? The inexplicable enthusiasm and self-esteem suddenly appeared, and I blurted out: "Mr. Li, even if Yuanshan is really not as good as Huarui now, there is no need to humiliate people like this, right?" Page 6 Li Zeyan frowned: "What are you talking about?" He paused, his eyes sinking, "I thought you would be an opponent you could look forward to, but I didn't expect the vision to be just like that." Without additional explanation, Li Zeyan turned and walked away after speaking. I was stunned, looking at Li Zeyan's steadily leaving behind, I couldn't help but relive the conversation just now in my mind. Could it be that Li Zeyan meant that because he regarded me as a potential opponent and hoped that this opponent could become stronger and more competitive, did he propose to let me participate in the business forum? Page 7 That's right, it seems that only such an explanation can make sense! Thinking of this, I couldn't help blowing a whistle. After all, it was an "imaginary enemy" and pursuit of goals since the age of 17, which can be affirmed and recognized by Li Zeyan. It is simply an easter egg that comes with the negotiation, and it is worthy of the old man to praise me ten times. I was being silly and happy. Suddenly my fingers hurt, I have forgotten about my cigarette that was about to burn my fingers! Chapter 5 Page 1 With Huarui's capital injection, Yuanshan passed the crisis steadily. After more than half a year, the foundation of the resort has gradually taken shape. Just when everything seemed to be going in a good direction, early this morning, the news of "the crash of the president of Huarui" directly bombed all major platforms.  Reminiscent of the so-called "homicide list" that was suddenly leaked on the internet a few days ago, I inexplicably feel that these two things may have some connection. Who on earth wants Huarui to sink in the water? Wait a minute, which company announced the list. Could it be that their person in charge is secretly playing tricks? Page 2 Before I could find anything out of my investigation, within a few days, the news of "Which company claims that Huarui has maliciously acquired a large number of pharmaceutical companies" once again detonated all platforms! "Deliberately monopolizing the pharmaceutical market will inevitably cause the price of medicines to rise, which is obvious." "Just for profit, this behavior is very bad!" "Even Huarui's own workers and can't stand it, which shows how terrible Li Zeyan's actions are!" Page 3 Opinions on the Internet are divergent, and public grievances are boiling, and they all accuse Huarui. But I don’t believe it. Although I have only met Li Zeyan several times in person, for so many years, because I have always regarded him as an opponent and target, I have studied Huarui and Li Zeyan’s behavior more than anyone else. The nonsense on the Internet, I don't believe a word! I browsed the web quickly, staring at the almost identical title and searched viciously. Page 4 "Huarui’s reputation plummeted, Li Zeyan fell into a situation where everyone was clamoring and angry, and the heads of the company was clearly cut off from him." In the video, the host's voice kept ringing into my ears. All the signs made me firmer in my previous thoughts: It must be looking at which company is crossing the river to demolish the bridge! I immediately called the assistant to the inside line: "How much do you hire me for a large number of naval forces? How many can you hire? How many! That's right, I have to spare no effort to clarify for Huarui, and by the way, I will focus on the company. Going right now!" I know that this "bad strategy" and only a small help but I haven't beaten Li Zeyan righteously, how could Huarui have an accident in such a situation! What I want is not the taste of winning without a fight. Page 5 Probably because of anger, I couldn't help but send a message to Li Zeyan: The outside world said that Huarui's energy is exhausted. You will not be reduced to the point where you still need to borrow money from me, right?" This message was sent, and I did not expect Li Zeyan to reply to me. However, when it was almost midnight, I suddenly received an email from Huarui. ‘Huarui has always been a responsible company, and will do what it says without fear of any storms. Now everything is running normally, you don't need to worry about it.’ Signer: Li Zeyan. Page 6 Looking at this email, I couldn't help but smile in the middle of the night. Also, Huarui has always been fighting steadily, and Li Zeyan has never fought unprepared battles. Maybe he is playing a big move. Otherwise, how can I say that he is my respectable and close opponent! As for my secret match with Li Zeyan. Give me another three or four years to see who wins and who loses.
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