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gigabyte-flare · 12 days

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The Devil is Real (Part 2)

Part 1

Summary: You sense there's something not right about Los Iluminados and you're determined to get to the bottom of it.

Word Count: 3.5k

Pairing: plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: drug abuse mention, abusive household mention, religious cult, religious trauma, body horror, noncon, dubcon, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral (m and f receiving), masturbation, kidnapping, yandere tendencies, somno, extreme violence and gore, human sacrifice, murder, blood play/kink, breeding kink, pregnancy, pet names, stockholm syndrome, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future parts]

Your eyes slowly open to find the sun pouring into the window over by the head of the stairs. You let out a loud yawn as you sit up, stretching your arms over your head before swinging your feet over the side of the bed. Heading downstairs, you find Vince already up and making breakfast. You walk up and stand next to him.

“Anything I can help with?” you ask, leaning in to see what he’s making.

“Nah I’m good,” he replies, playfully shoving you away, “you must have been exhausted. You were already asleep when I got back to the house.”

“The jet lag finally caught up to me as soon as my head hit the pillow,” you explain as you sit at the table, “you spoke to Father Méndez I take it?”

“I did. Hopefully it helps. I don’t want you to feel unwelcome here. I know Leon is just doing his job but… you’re my sister. Making sure you’re comfortable here is my top priority.”

Vince finishes making breakfast, once again bringing two plates to the table before sitting across from me.

You speak up once more while you’re eating, “so, what’s on the agenda today?”

“I have to help out on the farm, that’s usually what I do most days. You’re more than welcome to join me, but if you don’t, I understand.”

You nod, thinking back to your time spent living with your grandparents. They had lived on a large farm and your grandfather made the two of you do almost all the upkeep. Your brother would take care of the livestock and farm maintenance while you would tend to the garden, it was brutal work for children. Regardless of the unpleasant memories, you weren’t about to sit back and let your brother do all the work.

“Sure, I’ll help out, just let me know what needs to be done.”

Within the hour, the two of you had made your way to the farm. It is a ways away from the village, requiring another short hike to get there. Once getting there, Vince is tasked with repairing some of the farm equipment while you helped feed and groom some of the livestock. You’re in the middle of wrangling up the pigs to feed them when out of the corner of your eye, you see someone approach your brother. You recognize the cargo pants and the tight fitting black athletic t-shirt immediately and that can only mean one thing:

It’s Leon.

You avert your eyes, bringing your focus back to pouring the feed into the trough, however, you steal quick glances at Leon and your brother as they speak to each other. Leon has short blonde hair and obviously takes very good care of himself; even you could see the way the sleeve of his t-shirt forms over his biceps.

“Hey Sis, come ‘ere!” Vince calls, beckoning you to join him with a motion of his hand.

You put down the bag of feed, silently cursing to yourself before walking over, standing close to your brother when you approach. Now that Leon isn’t wearing that black cloak he had on yesterday, you’re able to get a better look at him and, holy hell, were you not prepared. Leon is incredibly handsome, easily the most handsome man you have ever laid eyes on. You found yourself unconsciously squeezing your thighs together as your eyes rake over him; taking in the way the straps of his gun harness and various belts hug his thighs, how his pectoral muscles strain against that tight shirt. And, of course, those gorgeous blue eyes.

Oh no… you think to yourself, he’s hot…

“I apologize if I made you uncomfortable yesterday,” Leon begins as he holds out his gloved hand; you don’t hesitate to shake it, “I’m Leon Kennedy; I’m in charge of making sure the community is a safe place for everyone.”

His voice is as smooth as whiskey, causing your heart to race in your chest as you tell him your name, “it’s very nice to meet you Leon.”

Leon gives you a half smile which makes your heart swoon; this man is way too attractive for his own good. He must realize it because he gives you a playful wink which, thankfully, your brother missed.

“Likewise,” Leon continues, giving your hand one more squeeze before letting go and looking to your brother “I also came over because Manuel just came in with a haul of fish from the lake, he needs help unloading the boat.”

“Of course, I’ll be right over,” Vince replies, setting down his tools.

“Is it alright if I come along?” you ask, shoving your hands in your pockets as you shift on your feet.

“Yeah of course,” Vince replies, “the dock isn’t far from here; I’d love for you to come see the lake.”

Just as your brother walks away to go to the dock, Leon gives you a pat on the side of your shoulder, giving you another playful wink as he whispers, “I’ll see you around, little bird.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as you watch Leon walk away. The nickname he had given you goes straight to your core, causing you to clench your hands as your fingers tingle.

“Sis, are you coming or not?” Vince calls out to you some ways away from the archway leading out of the farm.

“Sorry Vince! I’m coming!” you shout as you jog over to your brother, joining him as you both make your way to the lake.

By the time you two get to the dock, several other men from the village are also there helping Manuel unload the haul from his fishing trip. Vince quickly joins them as you stand at the head of the dock. As your eyes scan over the vast lake, the sights, sounds and smells once again take you back to your childhood. To the times when you and your brother would go down to a small pond that was on your grandparents’ property to have some semblance of fun. The sound of a door opening behind you causes you to draw your attention away from the lake.

You watch two men come out of what you can only assume is Manuel’s house carrying what appears to be a very large sack. Your gaze tracks them as they walk across the property, stopping at a cave opening that’s blocked off by a large gate. They stop at the gate as one of them goes to unlock the gate. You quickly realize that the large sack is moving violently. Once they get the gate open, they carry the sack inside, shutting and locking it behind them before disappearing into the darkness of the cave. You swallow hard as you draw your attention back to the lake, an uneasy feeling settling in your stomach.

Something is very wrong about this place and you feel whatever it is, it’s behind that gate.

“Will you be ok here at the house tonight?” Vince asks over dinner.

“Yeah, why?” you ask as you take a bite out of your meal.

“We have a community gathering tonight. It will likely go well into the night. I just want to make sure you’ll be ok here by yourself.”

You look up at Vince, raising an eyebrow, “I can’t come with you?”

Vince shakes his head, “not this time. This is for members of the Los Iluminados community only.”

This only serves to unsettle you even more, especially after seeing that large sack get brought into that cave earlier that day. Not wanting to upset your brother, however, you simply swallow hard and shrug it off.

“No problem, I’ll be fine, Vince.”

“Good, thank you Sis.”

Your brother leaves the house after cleaning up, leaving you alone in the house. You take that opportunity to go up to the bedroom, settling yourself onto the bed. As you lay there, your mind wanders back to Leon and you find yourself quickly becoming hot and bothered. Taking off your jeans so that you’re just in your shirt and underwear, your hand slips under the hem of your panties, your fingers gently rubbing your clit as you lay your head back against the pillow, closing your eyes. You picture Leon perfectly, imagining it is his fingers rubbing your clit, imagining his hot breath on your ear as he leans over you.

“That’s it, little bird. Doesn’t that feel good?”

A soft whimper escapes your lips as you hear the words your mind has conjured; who would have thought a silly nickname would get you so riled up. You pick up the pace of your fingers, your hips bucking up into your hand as you chase your release. You softly moan his name over and over as your pussy walls clench around nothing, secretly wishing he was buried inside you. You then move your fingers in a circular motion rapidly and within minutes you come undone, practically screaming Leon’s name as your body convulses. In the heat of the moment, your elbow crashes into the small bedside table, causing it to tip over, causing the contents of a small drawer to spill all over the floor.

The abrupt crash immediately snaps you out of your fantasy. You sit up in the bed and stand up, picking up the items that had fallen out of the bedside table. A crudely made leather bound book catches your attention; you sit down onto the side of the bed and open it. The text inside is handwritten and you quickly realize once you start reading it that it’s your brother’s journal. You know you shouldn’t be reading it, but a part of you is hoping that it reveals what exactly is going on in this community.

March? 2006

I’ve completely lost track of time since Josh and I were brought here. I found this notebook inside the building they brought us in, so I figured I’d use it to chronicle what’s been going on in case someone else finds it. It was Josh’s idea to go backpacking across Europe. I regret not telling my sister where I was going; she must be worried sick!

This group, called Los Iluminados, promised us a paradise on Earth. A place for us to disconnect from the world and detox and it doesn’t take a genius to know I definitely need that. They didn’t seem very bothered by the fact that Josh is my boyfriend despite being a religious group, so that was refreshing.

You stop reading for a moment, absorbing the information you just learned. Your brother is gay. It came as a complete shock to you, however upon looking back, it’s a wonder you hadn’t realized it sooner. It certainly explains why your grandfather was especially hard on Vince. Why didn’t he tell you? You can’t help but feel hurt by the fact your brother wasn’t comfortable enough telling you. You set aside these emotions for the time being and continue to read.

They injected both of us with something, said it would help us with the detox process. And then they brought us into the basement of one of the houses. It’s almost pitch black down here, the only indication of time passing is from the faint streaks of light coming down from the floorboards. It’s a miracle I can even see what I’m writing. I feel ok, but Josh on the other hand isn’t looking good at all. He’s broken out into a rash and he won’t stop sweating. He keeps saying everything hurts. What the fuck did they inject us with?

March… Maybe April? 2006

It’s been a few days since they first locked us into this basement. I keep coughing up blood and having weird dreams, but otherwise I don’t feel too bad. Josh on the other hand isn’t doing well at all, he’s been violently convulsing and hacking up way more blood than I have. I don’t think he’s going to make it.

April 2006

They came down into the basement and took Josh, he had gotten worse from when I had written earlier. They came back later and examined my eyes, saying my blood had accepted the gift, whatever that means. They led me out of the basement and gave me one of the houses. They say I’m part of the community now. I don’t know what happened to Josh.

There are no new entries in the journal after that. You’re completely overwhelmed with emotions, both from what you learned about your brother and the implications of what happened to his boyfriend Josh. All of this just further cemented the fact that you had to find out what lies beyond that gate you saw them bring that sack into.

After picking up the mess and tucking the journal safely back inside the bedside table, you go to bed where your mind enters the realm of dreams which have been invaded by thoughts of Leon.

The next morning, your brother informs you that the two of you will be going over to Father Méndez’s house to have dinner. The house itself is grandiose, we’re immediately greeted with the large dining room table already laid out with food and drinks. The dinner itself is largely uneventful, Father Méndez asks you a lot of questions about living in the United States and how you’re liking your stay with the community. As the dinner wears on, you realize that this is a golden opportunity to try to find some answers.

You abruptly stand up, “sorry I need to excuse myself for a moment. Where’s the bathroom, Father?”

Father Méndez motions to the archway over to the left, “through there, sweetheart.”

You smile at him and nod in acknowledgement, “thank you Father, if you excuse me…”

You walk through the archway, finding a set of stairs going up to the second floor of the house. You look over at the dinner table, waiting until Father Méndez is completely focused on your brother before silently ascending the stairs. At the top is another hallway. You carefully walk to the end of it, finding what you guess is the master bedroom, a large four poster bed immediately to your right, a dresser to the left and a small desk next to the window ahead of you.

You slowly walk up to the desk, which is covered in various papers that have words written in Spanish on them. You then open up one of the drawers and you suck in a breath at what you find. It’s an ornate key, embellished with the same weird cross symbol that you saw back at the church and, now that you think about it, the gate by the dock also had this same symbol. This key has to go to that gate, you’re sure of it. You softly close the drawer, tucking the key into your pocket.

“What are you doing in here?” you hear Father Méndez ask.

You jump as you turn around, placing your hand over your racing heart, “Father I’m so sorry! I got lost looking for the bathroom.”

He raises an eyebrow at you, but then smiles at you warmly, “that’s quite alright, I wasn’t clear in my direction. It’s downstairs, the door on the right just before the back door, follow me and I can show you.”

You allow Father Méndez to lead you to the bathroom, which is quite literally a hole in a raised part of the floor. The smell coming out of it almost knocks you out. Despite this, you spend a couple minutes in there to make it convincing before you return to the dinner table, all the while fiddling with the key in your pocket.

You and your brother finish up dinner with Father Méndez, getting back home just before it gets dark. You excuse yourself and go to bed early, claiming to be exhausted from socializing. You sit on the side of the bed, twirling the key you found in your fingers as you examine it as you listen for confirmation that your brother is asleep. It takes a couple hours, but you hear the telltale signs of your brother’s snoring. Getting up from the bed, you walk over to the window over by the stairs, carefully opening it and climbing out. It leads you outside on some crude scaffolding, you quickly find a ladder to climb down.

The waxing moon casts a gentle glow throughout the village, which you use to your advantage as you make your way to the dock area. You walk crouched, trying to use the environment to mask your movements, hoping to not draw anyone’s attention. You eventually make it to the gate, looking around before digging the key out of your pocket, putting it into the keyhole and turning. As you suspected, the key unlocks the gate with ease and you push on it gently, the gate letting out a soft squeak as it swings open. You shut the gate behind you, making your way inside the cave.

Once you get to the back of the cave, you come across another gate, pushing it open to find a furnished room filled with various root vegetables and supplies. Upon stepping in, you’re overwhelmed by the smell of decay, bringing your shirt up over your nose to mask the smell. It doesn’t take long for you to find the source. To your right, there is a person on their knees, held up by their wrists on a rope. You hesitantly approach, finding that it’s a young woman, her skin pitch black in decay and that weird cross symbol painted on her face with blood. You fight back the bile building up in your mouth.

“I fucking knew it,” you say to yourself, “this is a fucking cult.”

You take another look around, spotting a ladder leading upwards through the floor in the back. You hesitantly approach it and begin climbing up. As you ascend to the top, you are greeted by another horror; an altar with another young woman laid onto it, her blood completely covering it. You see her hands are tied behind her back. You walk around the altar to face her. She has that same symbol painted onto her face. Her skin still has color to it, suggesting that she hasn’t been dead for very long. You begin to suspect that this woman was in that sack that you saw carried into the cave.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you hear Father Méndez’s voice boom from behind you.

You spin around and face him, he’s standing straight with his hands neatly folded in front of him.

“What the hell kind of operation do you have here?!” you shout, balling your fists, “I knew something wasn’t right about this place. I’m taking my brother, we’re leaving and reporting you to the authorities!”

A low chuckle comes out of Father Méndez, “her blood did not accept the gift. You, however, may have better luck.”

Méndez brings one hand up, snapping his fingers. Suddenly, two men that had been standing behind you grab you by your arms, twisting them behind your back as you struggle as hard as you can. You watch as Father Méndez reaches into his coat pocket, producing a large hypodermic needle. As you struggle, Father Méndez begins to approach you. Your gaze shifts to the figure standing just behind him, seeing that Leon is standing there, watching, back to wearing that large black cloak, the hood mostly obscuring his face. All you can see is a menacing smirk that is on his lips.

“Sis calm down, it’s going to be ok!” you hear your brother, quickly realizing he is one of the men that is restraining you, “my blood accepted the gift, I’m certain yours will, too.”

“Vince!” you cry out, turning to him, “do you hear yourself? This is insane!”

Father Méndez looms in front of you, grabbing the side of your head and pushing it to expose your neck, wasting no time inserting the needle into your skin, injecting the strange liquid into your body. Whatever it is, it burns. You feel it spread across your neck as you continue to struggle, tears now flowing down your face.

“Bring her to the holding area,” Father Méndez commands.

Without any hesitation, your brother and the man helping to restrain you bring you back down through the hole you had come up out of, carrying you out of the cave as you kick and scream. They bring you to Manuel’s house, carrying you inside. In the back of the house, there is a trap door. The other man retraining you kicks the trap door open before he and your brother gently lower you inside. Once on the ground, you scramble to your feet and stare up at the opening, seeing your brother stare down at you, only, there’s something very off about him. Black veins cover his skin and his eyes are glowing red.

“Vince, you can’t do this! You need to get me out of here!”

“I’m sorry, Sis,” he says softly before slamming the trap door shut.

You stand there in utter shock as you hear the door being locked, trapping you in the pitch black darkness.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #plagas!leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #dead dove do not eat #dead dove #gigabyte writes

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madelynraemunson · 10 months

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CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!x reader)

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI

Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series (completed)

* loosely inspired by Sara Cate’s “Salacious Players Club” series

🔥 EXTRA CONTENT HERE 🔥

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014** , 015, 016** , 017, 018, 019, 020*

* = somewhat smutty chapters , ** = smut chapters

Summary: 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐓. After getting kicked out by your brother, you have no other choice but to take off your big girl pants and add stripper to your resume. Desperate to pay the bills and support your little sister, are you willing to accept the risks that come with such a perilous profession? With the stage name ‘Shy Girl’, you take the leap of faith, weaponizing your divine femininity to steal the hearts of all the bachelors in Hawkins — including Eddie Munson’s, the owner of Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club.

warnings & disclaimers — slow burn, eventual smut (a lot of it), voyeurism, mutual pining, sexual tension, jealousy, drug/alcohol, profanities, sexual harassment, domestic violence

Welcome to Hellfire.

theme song: meet you in hell by jade lemac “Look me in my eyes. I know that you’re scared. You see yourself and you cry for help. Look me in my eyes. Tell me it’s not fair. If you taught me well, I’ll meet you in hell.”

Chapter 001: Wolves

The Hargroves are cursed. Generationally, that is. One night Billy takes it too far, costing him the only thing he had left... his sisters.

TW — abuse, domestic violence, blood, profanities, implications of infidelity, death

word count: 8.5k words

author's note: there are four different acts to this introductory chapter :) so much foundation to lay down and i spent forever on this to craft it perfectly for you guys. thank you for being as excited about this fanfic as I am releasing it. i hope you all enjoy! -madelyn

tags: @changemunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n

_______________𓆩♡𓆪_______________

"Once I ran to you. Now I run from you."

♡

Duality of man. Mom was always a firm believer in that notion. In fact, she always used to say, "Inside of you, there are two wolves: a good one and a bad one. Depending on which mouth you feed, one will triumph the other.”

It became more evident when she died.

“YOU FUCKING SLUT. GRAB YOUR SHIT AND GO.”

Once identical in every aspect, the differences between you and your brother slowly began to unravel over time.

Being ‘good wolf’ was impossible while living under the same roof as Billy. So you settled for neutral wolf instead. Meanwhile, the big, bad wolf possessed him at age 15, when he realized hitting your father back would get him to back off.

It was 2010, post-homecoming game.

Dad nearly flung Billy into another dimension when he came home. The preferred alternative would have been attempting to reason with one another, but it just wasn’t something that was normalized in the Hargrove household. Communicating with words was a daunting task; but not nearly as daunting as accountability.

“I’M DONE WITH YOU, BILLY. GRAB YOUR SHIT AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FUCKING HOUSE.”

“I’m a literal minor, you can’t do this, Dad!” Billy wailed. "PLEASE!"

Over a football game.

The Friday Night Lights were a staple of Vista Palms High School. That and all of its nacho-eating, pot-smoking, LMFAO-playing, neon-filled goodness.

"C’mon V-P, c’mon, let’s beat S-D!” For weeks Billy had been chanting that mantra. There was no clearer indication that it’s where he would be the night of the championship game. He didn’t communicate it, of course, but it was implied. But still, it didn’t cross Dad’s mind.

Any parent who thought their child was coming home on time — and sober — that night was a foolish one. Especially if their kid was a sophomore with senior status.

“You sure as hell don't act like one,” Dad spat. “Coming home, acting all grown." Little did Dad know Billy was there for community service. Billy was a good student. More than anything he wanted a full ride to a UC, mainly to get away from home. Either that or military. Maybe then, walking on eggshells and being accused of something he didn't do — like drinking and doing drugs — would be a seasonal occurence instead of daily. "ACTING LIKE YOU PAY THE BILLS. YOU DON'T. YOUR MOM AND I DO.”

Dad knew he hit a nerve. It was his signature move aside from alienating his victims to establish control. While the feeling of getting your wings clipped really did you in, reactive abuse was Billy's top trigger, especially when Mom was mentioned. After all, Billy was the one who found Her.

Through glassy eyes and gritted teeth, Billy closed up his fists before mustering up the courage to say, “I’m…not…calling Sue... the operative word.”

Dad snarled. “Like there’s anyone else physically here you’ve reserved that title for?”

Oh.

"This tainted love you've given-"

Billy took the bait, lunging forward to grab Dad. As if on cue, Dad winded up his arm, assuming his usual position. You managed to assert yourself between in hopes of stopping them. Suddenly the back of Dad's hand collided with your cheek, sprawling you onto the couch. Billy watched horrified while you fought to keep your eyes open, growing anxious when all you could hear was the room pulsating around you at the highest frequency you had ever heard in your 15 long years of life. Enough was enough.

One punch. Bridge of the nose. Game over. The control Dad had over you both had ceased.

Billy rushed to your aid while Dad took a few moments to gather himself. It was then his beat-in, throbbing eyes realized that the little boy he mercilessly pushed around was no longer there. His own little Frankenstein had taken his place.

"I gave you all a boy could give you"

"Oh my god, Sissy," Billy cried, crouching down to run a soothing hand through your hair. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," you sniff, wrapping a hand around his arm. "I'm fine, Billy. I promise."

"I'm not gonna let that son of a bitch hurt you ever again," he vowed. "I'm gonna fuck him up and anyone else who tries."

"I love you, Brother."

"I love you, Sissy." The magnitude of power that surged through Billy melted into every neuron in his body, the warmth of its adrenaline imitating a tender — long overdue — embrace. He became fully enveloped in what was like an electric current, its tide higher than any wave he's ever surfed. It became more exhilarating than cruising down the I-5 in his Camaro at 130 MPH, and more intoxicating than any keg of beer he's ever swigged at a Wanna-be Project X Party.

It was the rush Billy had been searching for his whole life.

Every high Billy ever pursued before that rapidly declined in value. He would trade in anything for the static that had encoded itself into him. He felt untouchable, a luxury your father couldn’t afford his wife and children.

"YOU PUT YOUR HANDS ON HER AGAIN, YOU'RE DEAD DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

From that day forward, feeling respected was a freedom Billy was not willing to sacrifice, ever.

"Take my tears and that's not nearly all-"

But now Billy is the abuser, something you never imagined happening given his innately soft personality.

"Oh, tainted love. Don't touch me! Please.”

Slapping. Biting. Choking each other out. Pulling each other’s hair. Calling each other names. Spitting. Throwing things. Who would’ve thought the Hargrove twins were capable of the same horrors as their parents?

Yesterday was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Billy’s voice, like nails on a chalkboard, clawed at your brain in agonizing intervals.

“That’s all Max is. A pathetic little liar.”

“She will do anything for any bit of attention…even whore herself out to all the men in Del Mar.”

“You can get out. And stay out. Since you wanna act so grown all the damn time.”

He became the very thing — or person rather — he sought to destroy. The very person who indirectly, but explicably killed your mother.

And deep down you feared that if you and your stepsister Max don’t get out of that house, you’d both suffer that same fate.

“It's fucking JULY and 90 degrees out!” your sister retaliated. “What do you want me to wear to the beach? Fucking sweats?"

Max was out with friends the night prior. They hosted a birthday bonfire for her at the beach. She broke curfew and got a ride home from a friend. A guy friend. Billy wasn’t having it.

Max always got the short end of the stick. She was an easy target for Billy’s antics. Being the literal carbon copy of the woman he hates the most didn’t make it any better, and neither did taking the bait whenever Billy dealt it to “keep the peace”. Max believes being and acting helpless would get Billy to back down. It was far from the truth. In reality, she was feeding him his supply.

And what a volatile supply it is.

Mom also had another saying: "Anger is just grief with nowhere to go".

So you watched Billy and Max go back and forth with their pickleball tournament-o-insults, shouting at one another to their lungs’ capacity, their dead, black pupils strangling each other mentally while they gathered the physical strength to do so as well. You kept an arm halfway up and torso slightly turned in case you needed to butt in.

“I do this because I love you, Maxine,” Billy insisted. “So just SHUT UP and stop being a little cunt. Okay?”

“You stop being a presumptuous asshole first,” Max fired back. “We’re fighting again — why? Because someone with a penis drove me home? And we broke curfew by 10 minutes? I don’t control traffi-”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he dismissed her. “Just say you wanted some dick and call it a night.”

Classic slut-shaming, as if Billy’s Instagram following wasn’t all models, strippers, and OnlyFans girls.

Before you could even process what was happening, the blurbs of their argument skidded to a halt when Max finally broke. Billy watched in subtle amusement as she screamed, her fist meeting the wall repeatedly out of frustration.

Reactive abuse is Billy’s favorite abuse tactic.

“Someone who’s not guilty wouldn’t react like this,” Billy quipped in a sing-song voice, eyeing the new hole in the dry wall that Max had created.

There was no sense in backtracking if Billy already got what he wanted. Max just needed the last word. Before any of you could process it, an acrylic storage box soared through the air, hitting Billy right in the groin. He roared in agony while Max attempted to collect herself off to the side. She still saw red.

That’s when the knife came out.

One slice to the brow and it was over. To ensure the last word was his to keep, Billy ended up chucking a knife at your sister.

“OHMYGOD!” Max shrieked repeatedly, entering the ‘freeze’ stage of her shock. “OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD, I’M BLEEDING! I’M BLEEDING, THERE’S BLOOD!”

It was then you realized, the little boy you vowed to protect and refused to leave behind was long gone. Dad’s essence had taken his place now.

“You just don’t know when to FUCKING STOP, do you?” you exclaimed, putting pressure on Max’s eyebrow with a washcloth as she wailed. Suddenly it was Dad you were talking to. They had the same apathetic, dead look in their eyes. “I don’t care who said or did what, throwing a fucking KNIFE?”

“Me?” Billy tutted. “You wanna call me crazy, who did that?” He was referring to the hole in the wall. “And who was the one to throw shit first? EXACTLY. EXACTLY.”

While Billy was technically correct, he would never admit to what he did to provoke you two.

“So you can both get out if you’d like. Be my fucking guests.”

You and Max exchanged one look. The look. It was time. You both were ready and now had the green light. Now was the chance to bolt without immediate consequences.

So you and your sister spent several minutes rummaging through your pre-packed belongings while Billy continued to shit-talk aimlessly around the rental you shared. The place soon reeked of cheap bud and gas station gin. Trash bags were soon filled with your favorite clothes and you shoved them into as many of your childhood suitcases as possible. Struggling to see past your tear-coated eyes, you reached for your books, the ones you've hollowed out 300 pages deep to pocket all the tips from your waitressing job, and shoved the loose bills into your crossbody. You’d sort through them later. Lastly, you popped the cap off the bottom of your salt lamp. There was a pre-paid Visa you bought several months beforehand waiting for you. With trembling hands, you grasped it and whispered a gratitude to the Universe before tucking it neatly into the back pocket of your Levi’s.

When it was all said and done and everything was loaded into your car, you focus on the hole in the dry wall one last time.

Never again.

Billy was complacent throughout the entirety of the event. You glared at him while he continued to soothe himself with drugs and alcohol, refusing to own up to the irreversible damage he caused your little family.

“SIS,” Max boomed from outside. “LET’S GO!”

A part of you used to pity Billy, but now his destructive behavior took away any ounce of guilt you felt for leaving him.

You never fought back until you had no other choice. Similarly, and tragically, Billy shared that very sentiment.

Who the villain is in the narrative relied solely on whose lens you are looking through.

It took you by surprise all the time. How could identical twins, who grew up in the same environment, end up so different from one another?

“I love you, though you hurt me so. Now I’m gonna pack my things and go." - Tainted Love by Soft Cell

There are two wolves inside of everyone.

——————————𓇼——————--------

"Are the pieces of you in the pieces of me? I'm just so scared you're who I'll be. When I erupt just like you do, they look at me like I look at you" - DNA by Lia Marie Johnson

The heart-wrenching ballad by Lia Marie Johnson dissolves as you crank the dial to the left. Music is always depressing when Max has the aux chord.

"Did you hear what I said?" you question her.

Max abruptly sits up and reorients herself, attempting to shrug off the trance “DNA” had put her in for a few minutes.

"No, sorry. What'd you say again?"

"Do you need a bathroom break?"

"I'll go at the airport.”

"Okay, but if you change your mind and decide to take a leak one last time, I'll be happy to oblige.”

Swami’s is also an exit away and you’re just fixing for a hot meal before takeoff. But you don’t directly say that. Besides, Max loses her appetite when she’s upset and may only have room for shitty airplane food.

“I’ll just eat on the plane.”

Stale pretzels and flat soda it is.

Despite the decrease in appetite, Max is holding up well. As well as anyone-who-was-nearly-stabbed-by-her-brother-and-is-now-moving-states-away-from-everything-she’s-ever-known-with-her-sister could be.

It wasn’t your first choice to leave California. In fact, you did everything you could to avoid it. But nonetheless, anyone with a conscious and only $4,000 to their name would make the wise decision to move away to somewhere more affordable.

Enter your online friend, Robin.

Working ungodly hours six days a week to pay the bills took up so much of your time that you had no friends in San Diego — albeit high school friends who would have never guessed how you and Billy turned out. Those friends had happy families anyway. They couldn’t hold space for you. Your online friend Robin, who you met on an art forum, however knew your family dynamic and was there for everything. But she lived in Indiana with her partner and was never able to offer you any physical comfort.

You entertained Robin’s idea of moving to where she lives, a small town in Indiana called Hawkins just 20 minutes southeast of the city. Living under the radar to get your ducks in a row seemed like such a perfect plan, but you didn’t want to do so at the expense of Max losing her only support system she had outside of you.

Moving would’ve also meant pulling her out of school, which wouldn’t be possible because Billy was her legal guardian. Now that she’s graduated high school, and today is her 18th birthday, the game has changed completely.

“Donovan texted me happy birthday,” Max reports, finally disclosing a fragment of her inner conscience. “Thought it was sweet.”

You can’t help but smile. "You thought he wouldn’t?”

She refrains from rolling her eyes and shifts them towards the rocky beach cliffs outside her window.

“You know,” you add. “I really think you two could make long distance work. I’ve never seen so much chemistry between two people before.”

Max scoffs. "Yeah right. Long distance with a guy going to Santa Barbara for college?” She fiddles with the strings of the knit poncho resting atop her lap. “I'd be breaking my own heart."

You bite your lip to stop the waterworks. Max doesn’t deserve any of this. She deserves to enjoy bonfires with her skater friends, surf all the tubular waves, and go on all the nature hikes without worrying about her stepbrother’s codependent-fits-of-rage waiting for her when she comes home. She deserves to eat fried funnel cake at the county fair and share a kiss with the boy of her dreams atop a Ferris wheel on the 4th of July. She deserves a San Diego summer, not a summer spent in hiding from her abuser in the middle of buttfuck nowhere.

Max decides to change the subject.

“So what’s Robin like? Your online friend.”

“She’s very sweet,” you breathe. “Been, uh, telling her about Billy for a long time now. Her arms have been open since day one.”

“And her girlfriend?”

“Vicky’s the best,” you insist. “A match made in heaven for sure. It’s like they’re the same person, just different font.”

You get a giggle out of Max. Her laughter during such a turbulent time is like music to your ears. The non-depressing kind.

“I’m really sorry I couldn’t get you a gift this year.”

She side eyes you.

“What are you talking about? You quite literally gave me the best gift of all.”

“Did I? What did I give you?”

“You gave me safety.”

And with that, you give yourself a mental pat on the back, confident you made the right choice despite how foreign everything currently felt. The conversation dies down while you and Max ride on, driving further and further away from the Park and Ride you spent the night at, off Coast Highway, and onto the I-5 one last time.

Boarding the plane is a swift process. Your plane is a two-seater, so Max gets the window and you get the aisle. After receiving your snacks and drinks, you decide to play white noise and dissociate for the next five hours. It’s safe to do so, anyways. Liminal spaces were not something you took for granted.

Meanwhile, Max looks out the window, watching as the world she has come to know her whole life shrinks right before her eyes, before disappearing underneath a quilt of soft white cumulus clouds.

“This is 18.”

Goodbye, San Diego.

—————— ✈︎ ———————

Hello, Hawkins.

“Please, make yourself at home,” Robin incites, trudging through the miscellaneous projects that sit at her feet. “As if we weren’t DIY freaks enough, the pandemic really just amplified that.”

The pandemic was a hard time for everyone. You lost your fine dining gig and abruptly switched to UberEats to adjust to the flow of takeout. Billy couldn’t go to the gym, his happy place, and it took a toll on him mentally. Max broke quarantine multiple times to see Donovan, which didn’t sit well with your brother. He of course lashed out on her and also proclaimed that people like her were the reason why America hadn’t opened up yet.

“And I get no time at the gym!” Billy screamed. “So now I have to do this—”

You learned that a decent lamp costed $70 that night.

That wasn’t your first rodeo though. You and Billy grew up replacing furniture all the time. You two would gather up your money and spend it on replacing whatever needed replacing for Mom’s birthday. She always wanted to make your house feel like a home. Feel lived in. You and Billy thought you were heroes doing it, but it dawns on you now that you two were just babies.

“Oh!” Vicky interrupts. “Before we forget…”

You and Max watch her as she scrambles around, looking for something that she seemed ecstatic about.

“Happy birthday, Max!”

“No way, Kate Bush!” Max exclaims as she accepts the gift, an original Kate Bush vinyl record of her album Hounds of Love.

"Wow," you beam, rubbing your sister’s back. “Way to fuel her 80's hyperfixation, huh?"

“We found this at the thrift store,” Vicky boasted. “Knew we had to get it for ya.”

“It’s the real deal too," Robin adds. "Look, printed 1985.”

“It’s perfect,” Max gushes. “Can’t wait to play it on my Crosley.”

She thanks them both and hugs them before running back to the living room to get the rest of your belongings. You listen as she hums some of Kate Bush’s discography along the way.

You then observe Max as she unpacks her things one by one, slightly peppered with remnants of the California sand and the snobby fee it took to ship it all here via cargo. She then proceeds to sit on the new bed to check the springing quality, testing its bounce factor and comparing it to that of her old bed.

You let out a bittersweet sigh.

Suddenly you're eight years old, doing the same thing at the local motel Mom managed to snag a couple nights from when Dad trashed the house.

You turn to look in the mirror atop your new dresser.

Suddenly, you're Mom. Quite literally. You both have the same wavy blonde hair, scattered freckles across your nose that Billy used to call “stardust”, and the same tsunami blue eyes. It makes it no wonder why you and Dad never got along. You are Mom’s spitting image — and Billy is Dad’s.

Funny how life turns out.

You graze the crows feet at the outer corner of your eyes, realizing now how many years have silently passed you by, and then take note of the stress-defined scars in the form of eye baggage from all the sleepless nights that came as a souvenir.

You’ve put up with so much. For so long. The trauma is starting to manifest itself physically.

Robin snaps you back into present day. "So I was thinking we go to Applebee's for dinner, walk around Old Town, get you guys settled and unpacked when we return, Jenga at night, and then-"

She stops when she sees the horrified expression on your face.

“Hey…” the pitch in her comforting, raspy voice heightens. “What’s the matter?”

Your voice breaks. “It’s…” you manage. “It’s been a lot.”

Robin pats your back. “I know. I’m so sorry.”

Without looking, Robin snags a few tissues from a box laying around and gives them to you. You blot the tears away, careful not to mess up the makeup you had on with the intention to make you look less…dead.

“Sue didn’t even call and wish her happy birthday. Her own mother.”

“I’m so sorry,” Robin repeats.

“Every day I watch Max store her trauma in the box... and just shove it into the corner where it gathers dust,” you continue. “If she doesn't unpack it..."

You didn’t even want to think of the collateral damage you and your brother caused her. A part of you wants to think Maxine has remained untouched from that side of you, but the dry blood on her outer brow was a reminder that it was far too late to shelter her from that.

"You see yourself in her."

"And my mom in myself,” you admit. “Now more than ever.”

You rub your eyes.

“I’m rambling, I know. It’s just… SO aggravating. Max deserves better.”

“She’s handling it really well.”

“We don’t know that. I know Max. She’s a pro at hiding her feelings.”

“She’s being strong for you, like you are for her. It’s very endearing, whether you both admit it to each other or not.”

She rubs your arm.

“For as long as Vicky and I are here, you and Maxine have a soft place to land. We are here for you. Y’all are safe.”

You two glance over at Max, who is now unpacking your Zen Basics Himalayan salt lamp. She sets it on top your new bedside table, a reupholstered one whose old wood was painted over by an earthy olive green, the old hardware replaced by eccentric shaped, neutral-toned knobs. Her Crosley sits on your floor, now playing a track off Kate Bush's vinyl while she stares out the window. Your new view for the foreseeable future.

Can't you see where memories are kept bright?

Tripping on the water like a laughing girl

Time in her eyes is spawning past life

One with the ocean and the woman unfurled

Holding all the love that waits for you here

Catch us now for I am your future

A kiss on the wind and we'll make the land.

Dinnertime comes fast, but you blame it on the time zone difference. You call shotgun and ride with Robin in the passenger seat, catching up with your best friend while Vicky and Max watch YouTube shorts in the backseat.

Robin gives you a backstory of everything you pass on the way to Applebees, from the schools to churches to family-owned gas stations. She and Vicky seem to know everyone by a first-name basis, naming random people off and knowing exactly who that is every so often. You try to stay engaged, but the only thing on your mind is where you’re going to apply for a job.

Robin drives into a plaza next.

"This used to be a mall, but now it's completely empty," Robin continues pointing to an empty building with remnants of a star symbol etched on it. "E-commerce really turned this strip into a ghost town."

"So basically, if I wanted a job, it would have to be any of these food places, an office of sorts, or an off-brand Blockbuster store?"

"Family Video is closing too," Vicky chimes in. "It's sad. But I guess Hawkins needs yet another overpriced coffee shop."

"You could always work at the gentlemen's club," Max jokes, pointing off to the side.

You turn to where she’s pointing and take note of the matte black rectangular building by the Sizzler’s. It didn’t seem out of place, but the silhouette of an exotic dancer with devil horns gave the sinister establishment away. You couldn’t read the name of the club, but a part of you tries to.

Robin slightly turns and nods in that direction. "Oh yeah. I heard the girls there make bank in tips."

“I made bank in La Jolla doing fine dining,” you point out. “Maybe I can do the same thing here. But at a similar establishment.”

“Fanciest restaurant you’ll get here is Benny’s,” Vicky says. “You’re gonna have to go to the city for fine dining. I don’t think the commute is worth.”

“Guess stripper is your best option,” Max nudges you.

You shoot a glare her way. “Very funny.”

"I know, I was joking," she scoffs. "Billy would kill you anyways."

Billy would literally go insane if you dared to work at a strip club. The slut-shaming would never end. Not that he never slut-shamed you anyway. There was always something for him to be misogynistic and hypocritical about.

Then it hits you. Billy isn't here. And you really need the money since in this day and age, $4,000 meant nothing. You peer over at the gentlemen's club one last time as it shrinks out of view the further Robin drives.

HELLFIRE.

-----------𓆩♡𓆪------------

Dungeons & Dragons.

Of course one of the very few strip clubs in Hawkins has to be the dorkiest.

But you understand the vision. Beyond the cobblestone entrance, the veil between real life and fantasy thins.

As you near the club with nothing but a purse and car keys in hand, you notice that there’s already security by the door. You’re surprised to see a leaner guy, tall and slender with soft blonde hair and a soft grin to match. He catches sight of you and greets you with a nod.

“Good afternoon,” he says. “How are you today?”

“I’m good,” you nod. You reach for your wallet and give him your ID. Typical screening process. “Yourself?”

“Not too shabby,” he replies.

He examines your ID card. You notice his surprise when his eyes slightly widen before retracting shortly after. You guess that he was wondering why you are here out of all places. You peer over at his name tag while he concludes his screening. Henry.

Upon verification of your identity, the friendly security guard returns your card to you.

“Let me give you a wrist band.”

He motions for you to hold an arm out. You extend your right arm to him and watch as he gracefully pulls a paper wristband out of his pocket, clasping it into place with the side that read “21+” facing upwards.

You take the time to admire the gentleness of this man. The softness of his face. His dreamy gaze.

“Any weapons on you?”

“Uh…” you stammer. “Just pepper spray?”

A laugh escapes from his nostrils. “That’s fine, my dear.”

“I hope I don’t have to use it.”

“Don’t worry, darling. Under my watch, you won’t.”

Henry gently strokes your hand before motioning you inside.

“Enjoy the show.”

“Thanks,” you smile politely.

It’s a slow afternoon, but granted no one goes to a strip club at 2 PM. The Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club was comprehensively laced with playful innuendos. The accent wall by the entrance showcases an array of chains and handcuffs. Kukris, nun-chucks, and flails all of different variants and sizes are displayed on the walls, the point of balance being a vintage pulp print of a metal puppeteer. On the print, "OBEY YOUR MASTER" is written in edgy bubble letters.

Kinky.

And there’s a bonus of this themed club: the ladies are dressed in cloaks. You watch as beautiful women from all walks of life strut around the joint, leaving the clients with only their imagination to guess what’s underneath the tantalizing, medieval velvet.

There are LED signs that lit up corners of the space, indicating what they were for. KAS’ KORNER: GRAB A BITE, DRAGON'S BREATH: HOOKAH LOUNGE, and POTIONS — the bar.

You catch a glimpse of the private show rooms, or at least what you think are the private show rooms.

The LED sign to those rooms read, "I PUT A SPELL ON YOU AND NOW YOU'RE MINE."

The general seating area for the main event reads VECNA’S LAIR.

The Dungeon Master of this joint thought of every possible detail he could and ironed it into perfection.

Surely, someone who truly plays would adore every aspect of all the details, but it was evident that everyone came here for the same reason:

Girls, girls, girls.

You walk over to the bar to see two men conversing behind it.

One looked to be in his late 20s, with scruffy chestnut brown hair, some tired eyes, peach fuzz, and a patterned shirt decorated in a kaleidoscope of colors — a shirt meticulously calculated by quite possibly a girlfriend.

The other looked like he had another year left before being allowed to be behind that counter... of course judging by the “Hawkins High School class of 2021” on his insulated water bottle in his hand, a cracked iPhone in the other, and Beats with a small basketball sticker on it.

When you appear in their periphery, the conversation between the two gradually comes to a stop.

“Whoa,” the younger man hums. “New face. Welcome.”

“Hi. What do you recommend?”

“In terms of what?” the younger man questions slyly. There’s a timidness to the young man’s spirit, making his flirtatious demeanor somewhat dorky. The age appropriate bartender nudges him.

“Drinks, hotshot,” you refrain from chuckling. “Drinks.”

“Depends what you’re into,” the younger man replies, the slyness continuing. “If you’re into light liquors, Jonathan can make you a mean Cîroc with pineapple juice. But if you’re more into the dark stuff…”

He gestures up and down on himself.

“Then look no further.”

“That was very painful to listen to,” the older one who you assume is Jonathan cringes. “Can you get anymore corny?”

“Ta-ha!” the younger one tsks. “He said could I get any more corny. Can you get any more bitchless?”

“I have a girlfriend, Lucas.”

“Emphasis on the singular sense.”

“Nance is all I need.”

"Nancy is all you can pull," Lucas chuckles. "With that goofy ass shirt, man. Stop playing with me."

So you weren’t the only one who thought the shirt was absolutely ridiculous. It had "Bad Bitch Repellant" written all over it.

Jonathan whacks Lucas with the cloth that was sitting atop his shoulder. You request a double Tito’s straight on the rocks from Jonathan to which he automatically starts to make. Lucas continues to interrogate you.

“As you heard, my name is Lucas. Lucas Sinclair.” He extends his hands to you. “But my favorite ladies call me 'Dark Chocolate'. You can call me, 'The Man of Your Dreams' though.”

You take the youngster’s hand in yours and shake it. His heavy locker room cologne makes your nose swell, an uneven mix of what you believe is Axe and — is that Dior?

You tell Lucas your name then hit him with a, “But you can call me ‘When You’re Thirty’.”

Lucas laughs at your joke, beaming up at you as he does so. Then he nods to communicate a gracious fair enough. The flirting, you could sense, was in good nature, playful.

“It was worth a shot,” he shrugs. “Do you have a younger sister by any chance?”

“Oh in your dreams, mister.”

Jonathan chuckles and rubs Lucas’s back.

"That’s enough man, can you go buss that table over there?"

Lucas gives a thumbs up before putting his Beats on and walking away. You divert your attention back to Jonathan who is now done with making your drink.

“Alright… I got a Tito’s double shot — straight — on the rocks,” Jonathan announces as he slides your vice on over. He studies you as you take the drink and request to keep the tab open. “I’m inclined to ask. Are you okay?”

When you’re not around Billy, you wear your heart on your sleeve. It wouldn’t hurt to trauma dump on a stranger. Especially one who asked.

“Pretty far from okay,” you answer before chugging it. “Can’t you tell? It’s 2PM and I’m consoling…” You slosh the drink around in your hand. “…my man Tito.”

“I see that.”

“It’s been a long day,” you continue. “It’s my second day in Hawkins so I thought I’d scope this place out. Dilly dally for a bit.”

“Second day?” Jonathan questions. “As in…ever?”

“Yeah, just moved here.”

The bartender looks around as if he’s missed something. “But…why?”

It’s a fair reaction. If the welcome sign is correct, Hawkins only has a population of 1,314 people. 1,316 now including you and Maxine.

“My friend lives here and convinced me to make the move,” is what you explain, though it only seems to make Jonathan more confused. “Couldn’t take the heat Cali was dishing out. Hawkins seemed like the perfect place to slow down.”

“Oh man,” Jonathan mutters. “California to here, what a change.”

“You lived here long?”

“Lived here my whole life,” he answers as a matter of factly.

“What made you get a job at Hellfire?”

Jonathan didn’t have to think. “I love booze.”

You laugh together, raising your half-empty class to clink his invisible one.

“I hate 9-5s,” Jonathan draws on. “Working from home ‘bout damn near drove me insane, don’t know how my mom does it with such ease. My boss here smokes me out on occasion and my friends make me nachos.” He smiles. “Can’t think of anything better.”

“There we go.”

"I’ve also just been looking out for women my whole life," he adds. "Bout time I get some financial compensation for it, no?"

“Amen to that,” You chug the last of your drink. “Thanks for your service.”

"Pleasure is mine. Anything else I can do for ya?"

You think. "Hm, probably not you, but maybe the hiring manager can do something for me."

"You're looking to work here?" he clarifies as you nod. "Oh sweet, you're going to wanna talk to Eddie. He's the owner."

"And a dweeb," says a significantly younger looking fellow as he slides into the conversation.

“Here we go.”

In front of you now is a gentleman around Lucas’s age with wild curly brown hair. You watch as he helps himself to a club soda, dunking three large wedges of lemon into his cup as well.

The guy offers you a playful, pearly white grin. “Eddie may own a nice club with some smokin' hot babes, but he's got no game whatsoever."

“Hey Dustin.”

“Sup, man.”

“You think so?" you challenge him.

"I know so,” the boy who you now know as Dustin insists. “Can't talk up a chick to save his life."

"Yeah," Jonathan says, half-jokingly. "He's the bitchless one."

Dustin glances between you both, slightly puzzled.

You shake your head. "No way."

"I wouldn't say he's that bad," Dustin says. "I actually think he's seeing someone casually. But in general, dude's got zero rizz."

"Projecting are we?" Jonathan nudges him.

“HELL. NO.” Dustin booms. You attempt to refrain from laughing. “My game is what got me the baddest gal at science camp. Eddie? Clumsy as hell, stutters on his words, he's got the anxiety level of someone who drinks cold brew on an empty stomach… Now that I say it out loud, I think he does drink cold brew on an empty stomach. Some chicks dig it though, which is good for him.”

Curly was fun to observe. Once he’s done talking down on the club owner, Dustin politely walks over and shakes your hand, bowing to you like you’re a princess of sorts. You later find it that like Lucas, Dustin works as a bus boy and server, and his girlfriend makes sure that he remains in Kas’ Korner at all times. Dustin has about two years left before legally being permitted behind the POTIONS bar, but that doesn’t stop him from using it as his own storage shed.

You watch as he grabs some deodorant and hair pomade from an old shoe box under the counter.

“Anyways, later,” Dustin holds up a peace sign, starting towards the door. “I'm not on today, I'm just hitting the gym with Steve."

“Later, man!” Jonathan calls after him.

“Deuces. Say hello to Dark Chocolate for me.”

Before he could get any further, the loud swinging of a door closeby causes him to halt in place.

“ALRIGHT!” a loud, gruff voice booms from that direction. “Which one of you shitheads forgot to take inventory on the 10th?!”

You can’t help but turn your body towards the ruckus. And to your own pleasant surprise, you don’t regret it. Emerging from the door comes the possible shift lead, a tall and broad man with medium length wavy brown hair, chocolate-colored, youthful doe eyes that contradicted the deep lines on his face, bleach white Chuck Taylor’s, ripped black jeans, and a Hellfire Club baseball tee with the logo smack-dab in the middle.

The man looked to be in his mid to late 20s, with an assertiveness in his stride. His lips, a perfectly formed bow with a smirk-like undertone. The cool rings that rest upon his fingers look icy as they sway at his side, shining in contrast to his dark clothing.

The man is too tunnel-visioned to see where he was going. But that doesn’t stop Dustin from looking absolutely mortified.

“The 10th and the 11th,” the man clarifies. “So for all we know, we might need new kegs and ground chili, which is one more thing I have to d-”

Finally he looks up, with you being the first thing he sees. Proximity taking him aback, he snaps out of his stress-induced trance and softens up at the sight of you. You meet his eyes, big and beautiful with long wispy lashes and you can’t help but mimic the flutter in your heart in the form of a smile.

“Whoa.” He says, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Whoa, indeed.

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s Eddie’s first day back, he tends to get a little in the zone,” Dustin explains.

Eddie.

Does that mean…

“Are you the hiring manager?”

You didn’t know who you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the man in front of you. He must be proud of himself, having such a successful business so early in the game.

Eddie gathers himself quickly.

“Dungeon Master, hiring manager, manager, owner, sanitations, re-stocker,” Mr. Jack-of-all-trades confirms. “I do it all.” He grimaces at Dustin. "Since you know, some people don't wanna work."

"You said I can have off!" Dustin exclaims defensively. "I worked for you before the weekend already and I wasn’t even on the 10th and 11th, fuck outta here."

All it takes is a scowl his way from the boss and Dustin is radio silent. The look on Eddie's face definitely said "Watch your tone". Eyes are all on you once more soon after.

Eddie’s gaze softens when he looks at you.

“Were you…looking to apply?”

“Yeah,” you reply sheepishly. “As a dancer. I’d like to perform here.”

“You don’t sound too confident.”

“Some guys like shy girls,” you shrug.

He laughs, a dark honey kind of laugh that just oozed from the back of his throat. “That they do.” His voice deepens drastically. Eddie studies you. “Any dancing experience?”

“Dancing, yes.”

“Stripping experience?”

“None.”

“Hm,” Eddie says. “What do you have experience in?”

“I danced for a bit…I have good core strength,” you explain vaguely. “And I’ve worked in the restaurant industry so I’d say customer service is my superpower.”

Eddie soaks in the information.

“I know how to talk to people,” you continue. “I know the right things to say. Favorite pass time is upselling drinks. And dessert…”

You wait for Eddie to take the low hanging fruit. He doesn’t.

"Any experience with the pole?”

Your cheeks grow hot. You decide to lie.

"No.”

“Kinda essential for this profession, sweetheart.”

"I know," you respond humbly. "I wouldn’t doubt it for a second..." you scan the room. “So uh, do I need a permit to perform here?”

“Nah, Hawkins is a lawless wasteland pretty much,” he sighs placing his hands on his hips. “And my club does things a little different anyways. The ladies also don’t pay to perform, we pay them to.”

Shit. Strippers pay to perform at venues?

“The dining experience is what brings the base revenue in,” Lucas explains, returning from wherever he had been. “The ladies are a luxury.”

“And should be treated as such,” Jonathan chimes in.

“I take it you don’t work at any other clubs?” Eddie questions judging by your wide eyes attempting to take in every bit of information that has been dumped on you. The man sees right through your mask.

“No, but I-”

“I personally like to give everyone a chance,” Eddie says. “So don’t worry babe, you’re good. Even though you don’t have any experience, your energy tells me that you have potential. Wanna show us what you can do?”

Your heart sinks. The handsome club owner called you babe. And you’re also being asked to perform with the little experience you have — in front of girls who had tons of experience.

“Here? Now?”

Eddie nods.

You weren’t prepared to dance today. But with your sister and the mountain of debt on your mind, you are willing to do anything. So you walk over to Jonathan and tell him what song you feel most comfortable performing to and stretch as he takes the time to find it. When all is said and done, you make your way to the icy pillar made of chrome steel that was calling for your attention.

You exhale deeply.

Back to the old stomping grounds. The last time you worked with a pole you were wearing Heeley’s and light up sneakers. Of course in place of the horny spectators there were playground supervisors, and the only “bars” there were monkey bars. Oh, and you were 8, not 28.

The slut-shaming still existed, though. One time a boy told you that you were acting like a ‘hoe’ for trying to do a trick upside down. To Billy’s retaliation though. Before you knew it, the same boy was being shoved down and dragged across the wood chips, acquiring a series of splinters along the way. Admin phoned home. You and Billy got spanked. But, of course, Billy had no regrets. While you both cooled off together, you remember him grazing your hand, telling you he’d beat that kid up “a gajillion times over”.

He kept that promise. Except as you two grew older, it was you he was doing it to. A gajillion times over.

You laugh at the bittersweet nostalgia.

“Whenever you’re ready, babe,” Eddie says.

You give Jonathan a thumbs up to play your song selection. Soon, Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club is filled with the catchy, seductive tune that is Layla by Eric Clapton.

You start with a small stroll around the pole. Then a dramatic dip to flaunt your bouncy golden locks. Soon, the women of Hellfire gather around with the men following soon after to watch you work your magic in Vecna’s crowded Lair.

If muscle memory is in your favor, they are in for a good show.

What will you do when you get lonely

No one waiting by your side?

You've been running, hiding much too long

You know it's just your foolish pride

Eddie claims a seat at a throne directly in front of the pole. He studies your technique, your movements, your facial expressions. You aren’t sure if reality is projecting onto you or if you’re dizzy from all the spinning, but you almost see a slight smile spread across the club owner’s face. It prompts you to keep going.

Layla, got me on my knees

Layla, begging, darling, please Layla

Darling, won't you ease my worried mind?

It’s a lot harder, your techniques and tricks. Most likely since you weigh more than 50 pounds now and had to exert more energy to keep yourself balanced an aligned. But nonetheless, you persist.

Tried to give you consolation

Your old man had let you down

Like a fool, I fell in love with you

You turned my whole world upside down

You buck your hips upward from you back arch to go into an upside down position. It earns you some hooting and cheering from the crowd.

“You better work, mamas!” a dancer cheers.

“I KNOW THAT’S RIGHT!”

“YOU GO GIRL!”

“YAAAS!”

Layla, got me on my knees

Layla, I'm begging, darling, please Layla

Darling, won't you ease my worried mind?

Eddie watches intently, leaning backwards with his hands clasped forward. You feel his eyes burn through you, from the top of your head down to your toes. You feel as if he’s mentally scoring you like you’re at a competition, but the sisterhood that cheers you on makes you feel slightly less intimidated.

“SHE’S SO GOOD!” comes a high-pitched voice in the crowd. “I FREAKING LOVE HER!”

You turn to look at your own personal cheerleader, a bright-eyed cute little redhead with pigtails with an outfit that looks like an ode to Britney Spears’ “Hit Me Baby One More Time”. She has cherry hair ties that hold her two pigtails at the bottom.

You watch her clap and jump up and down, cheering you on with a beam in her eyes that made you feel like your souls have been friends for decades.

Motivated to attempt more risqué moves, you jump into the splits before kicking your legs around to end on your knees.

Clapping and whistling erupts from the lair. Once it dies down, Eddie stands up, offering you a delighted series of slow claps as he makes his way towards you.

"That was really good, Shy Girl. I like how you finished your set."

“Aw, thanks Eddie.”

He walks around you.

"Go like this?" Eddie does a stretching motion, lifting his hand up.

You imitate him and reach up.

"Okay, and... turn like this? Then pop your ass out a bit more."

The word rolled off the club owner's tongue like it was nothing. It was done in a way that was professional, a hint of respect in his tone with no sort of ulterior motive.

You swallow hard, attempting to internally tame the goosebumps on rising upon your skin. He’s just giving feedback, he’s just giving feedback. This is a professional line of work.

You do as he says as he circles around you, fingers grazing on the cool floor of the stage just inches away from your thighs. He taps them in thought.

"For a beginner you’re pretty damn good,” he says.

“Yeah?” you look up at him and smile.

“Yeah,” his voice deepens. “You’re a natural. All that shyness just went away.”

Well, it’s about to return, you think to yourself.

“Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”

“Not in this specific setting.”

There’s a slight shift in his eyes as his imagination wanders. The dimples at the side of his mouth concave slightly.

“I gotcha.”

Eddie clears his throat. “So uh, when can you start?”

Today is Wednesday. You have tomorrow, Friday, and the weekend to settle you and Max in and make any last minute stops. Then the appointment with the other loan officer and DMV appointment on Monday. Tuesday afternoons are dry — everywhere so that left the earliest you can start as

"Next Tuesday? In the evening?"

A soft snort escapes from the club owner’s nose.

"Driest night of the week," he comments, looking around his club.

He turns back to you.

"But a good time for orientation. Works for me, Shy Girl. Can I call you that?”

You smirk. “So I got the job?”

He nods.

“Then you can call me what you want,” you smile shaking his hand. “In this case I’m Shy Girl Hargrove.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiles. He knows you’re flirting. Eddie accepts your hand and shakes it firmly.

“Eddie. Pleased to formally meet you. And welcome to Hellfire.”

You two exchange contact information for professional purposes before he leaves. You study Eddie as he sees himself out, planting a firm, teasing smack on Lucas’s stomach on his way and whispering something to Jonathan as well.

Your cheerleader from the crowd excitedly makes her way over.

“I know a dancer slash gymnast when I see one,” she chirps. “I’m Chrissy. Stage name is Cherry.”

You two shake hands and exchange further compliments with one another. Your heart swells when you realize you’re slowly starting to find community.

“It’s so nice to meet you.”

Others come and say hello, but you’ve tuned out all the faces because all you can think about is Eddie. His demeanor. The way he carries himself. His presence alone was something so intoxicating that it lingered around the place in his absence.

Your heart flutters.

“Oh, Hargrove!” Jonathan says. “Before you go I just wanted you to know that you don’t have to worry about the drink.”

“Oh?” you respond. “No?”

“Eddie says it’s on the house.”

You smile and Jonathan returns the favor, making sure you see him when he voids your entire tab. As you wave bye to all your spectators, you release a grateful sigh. You felt very humbled about this new, yet unexpected beginning.

The happiness soon wears off when the events that just unfolded dawn on you. Suddenly, the flutter in your heart moves to your stomach, settling in a way that feels eerie. The unknown is pestering you again. Wrong, but oh so right and necessary.

You take in the area around you. You have a place to call home. You’re a stripper now. Your boss just bought your drink. You’re going to have money coming in. Oh, and YOU’RE A STRIPPER NOW.

Then it dawns on you. You need to go shopping.

#Spotify #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things 5 #hellfire club #Eddie munson fan fiction #Eddie munson fics

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thegnomelord · 2 months

Note

Ahh I love the food thing that you got asked <3 food can have such a special place in our lives it's so precious

Ya think Hound develop concerning eating habits due to Makarov? Due to the whole stressful situation

I just want someone in the 141 to cook him a meal, filled with love and care, maybe Hound is in the kitchen watching them cook it for his own security.

I just want him to have a nice meal 😔

-🐙

I do feel like Hound would have some food hoarding habits or just distrust about eating something he didn't make himself. It wouldn't be the first time he'd gotten drugged through food...

But the 141 making food communally would be a fun idea lol so here's a quick brain fart :D :

You feel out of place. Well, you're always out of place, but you feel especially out of place sitting at the table while Soap and and Gaz busy themselves by the stove, Price humming to himself to the side as he gets the mugs to make tea. Ghost sits next to you grumbling under his breath, both of you in 'time-out' — you hadn't done anything (save for not being trusted around anything sharp), it's Ghost that had gone and microwaved beans in the can. Now Johnny swears up and down the microwave is possessed.

Your eyes flicker between Soap and Gaz, watching them cook you don't even know what. The only British 'cuisine' you know of is the cremated steaks Price would sometimes make you before. . . that. But nothing the two are making smells nearly as bad as the charred hockey pucks Price would feed you and Simon.

"Hey!" Your brought out of your thoughts in time to see Kyle swat away Price's hand with his spatula. "Don't you dare cap! I'm not about to get rained on because of your bad cooking." You hadn't considered Gaz could take charge, too soft in your eyes, but you're surprised by how tight of a ship he runs when he's by the stove.

"Alright, alright." Price huffs while Ghost lets out an amused huff. He's not quite laughing, but you can see the subtle tremor of his shoulders in silent laughter.

That gets Soap to point a spoon in Ghost's direction. "Oh yer one te fockin' giggle. Mr. 'ah cursed the damn microwave with me beans'."

"Sod off." Simon grunts, but there's no edge to his words. Soap tuts, but soon enough starts off rambling about something you're not quite able to follow along to when your eyes once again focus on where their arms are, how they move, paying especially close attention any time they rest them by their sides (even though realistically you doubt they'd try to drug the same food they'd eat).

You still tense when you feel Price's hand on your back, only now noticing that you'd started hunching your back, your shoulders raised closer to your ears. "You're alright, straighten your spine, sweetheart." His voice is calm, his hand warm as he applies gentle pressure on your back until you straighten back out. "There you go, good man." He rumbles, hand going up to ruffle your hair before he pulls away before his touch can turn into stinging pain to your skin.

You blink as a plate full of food is placed in front of you. The food smells good and doesn't look like it had been cremated, made with care you don't deserve. "I. . ." You don't know why but your throat feels clogged, like someone had poured hot tar into your mouth and forced you to swallow, the collar around your throat constricting your breathing even more.

Simon's shoulder bumps into yours, "If you don't eat that I will." The childish threat makes you breathe out a small laugh.

"Aye, the bastard's like Henry the hoover, he'll eat anything." Soap supplies as he sits down opposite of you with his own plate. Though you get the impression he's talking about himself when he stabs a sausage with a fork and almost inhales the entire thing.

"Mhm," You grunt, taking the fork. "I don't doubt it." You stab a piece of black pudding. It tastes earthy, but the small coppery tang of blood sizzles down your nerves, but fuck it tastes good.

"Look at that, is it good?" Kyle chuckles as he watches your facial features shift as you swallow the food, his own face that of pride like he already knows your answer, but you nod your head all the same.

#gnome correspondence #🐙anon #x reader #cod mw2 #male reader #trinkets from the hoard #captain john price #good dog fic #Hound-reader #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #captain john price x male reader #kyle gaz garrick x male reader #this was pretty quick and I intend to do an extended version of this when i finally get around to writing the next chapter of Good Dog

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keqism · 10 months

Text

𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐒

⌇ feat. itoshi rin

⌇ premise. your boyfriend is a liar with a sweet tooth

⌇ cw. GN reader, rin & reader are aged up (20+), profanity. not sponsored by haribo !

Orange gummy bears are the bane of your existence.

Tart with a bitter aftertaste, the revolting flavor is enough to trigger your gag reflex. Fortunately for you, they're Itoshi Rin's favorite. It's the reason I'm dating you, you joke sometimes, only to be scoffed at. But despite the cold glares, he secretly enjoys it when you hand-feed him the orange jellies.

It's a ritual between you and him that started in high school. The two of you were seatmates, to Rin's delight. You were pretty, he had always thought. Sitting next to you allowed him to sneak glances at your face, admiring the curve of your nose and the plush of your lips. But despite the close proximity, he could never muster the courage to say a word to you.

It had started off as an awful, rainy day. Rin had slept through his alarm, missed his morning bowl of ochazuke, and sprinted to catch his bus in the rain. Soaked and hungry, he opened his emergency pack of Haribo gummy bears and snuck bites of the colorful jellies during algebra class to tame the loud beast in his stomach.

He had been biting the head of an orange gummy when a piece of paper landed on his desk.

the orange ones are the worst! it read, once unfolded. Cautious teal eyes flicked up to meet your unabashed staring, and Rin felt his heart skip a beat at your teasing smile. And when the teacher turned around to face the blackboard, the paper was flicked back onto your desk.

everyone knows the white gummies are the grossest. You laughed quietly at the note, oblivious to the way his eyes lingered on your lips, before scribbling something back.

if you don't like the white ones, could i take them? they're my favorite :3

And so on a slightly less awful, rainy day, Itoshi Rin found himself sharing gummy bears with you in the back of his algebra classroom.

It was your shared sweet tooth that brought you together. The once awkward silence between classes was filled with your bright laughter and the crinkle of the cellophane gummy packet that he would always split with you. As the school days flew by, Rin realized that he wanted to share more than gummies with you. His first kiss, his body, his cold, guarded heart—he wanted you to have it all. And so when the last bittersweet days of youth came to an end, he asked you to be his.

That was years ago. Now, Itoshi Rin is everything you could ask for in a boyfriend. He brews your favorite coffee every morning, does your skincare routine for you when you fall asleep on the couch, and hides you in the safety of his chest when days get difficult. He does his best to hold his sharp tongue and soften his personality when he's with you. He marks your birthday and anniversary in big red letters on the calendar on his wall.

So when you storm into the living room, your face livid, Rin has no idea what he's done wrong.

"Itoshi fucking Rin!" you seethe, your arms crossed over your chest. From the couch, Rin gapes at you in confusion, trying to remember if he accidentally washed your white underwear with the colored clothes again.

"What? What did I do?" An ungodly squeak leaves his mouth as you push him back by the shoulders, clambering into his lap.

A sharp finger pokes his chest. "You're a little liar," you spit, "I stopped by the grocery store with Bachira to get you gummy bears and you know what he told me? He said that you hate the orange flavor the most!"

Rin snaps his eyes shut and groans, cursing his friend for being so mouthy. "Hear me out—," he tries to explain, but you slap your hand over his mouth, his cheeks stinging from the impact.

"Don't even try," you hiss at him, expression petulant. "I'm not even mad that you lied. I'm mad that you let me feed you the disgusting flavor." You push off of his lap, storming away to your bedroom. The door slams and Rin flinches at the sound.

A moment of bewildered silence passes before he slowly makes his way to the bedroom. Gently opening the door, he peers inside to see you on your bed, wrapped in your duvet. The bed dips under his weight as he sits on the edge, a hand coming up to rub your back.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I don't hate the orange ones, I promise. They're just not my favorite."

The bundle of blankets on the bed rustles as you slide your hand out, dropping something in his lap. The cellophane of the opened Haribo gummy bear packet crinkles as Rin peers inside it.

"I ate all the orange ones for you," you sniff, poking your head out of the blankets. "I hated every second of it. I hate you."

Rin laughs before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

#itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin scenarios #itoshi rin drabble #blue lock x reader #blue lock scenarios #rin itoshi #itoshi rin #blue lock imagines #blue lock fluff #bllk x reader

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cal-flakes · 10 months

Note

Mean!Rafe convincing reader to hang out with him or stay at home with him instead of going out with her friends (while feeding her lies that they are jealous of their relationship of find her annoying/something similar)

I <3 ur writing btw congrats on 1k !!

thank you!!

╰┈➤ mean!rafe convinces y/n to stay in

warnings: toxic!rafe, toxic relationship, manipulation.

summary: rafe makes up lies to convince y/n she only needs him.

“rafe!” y/n called as she as stood in front of the mirror, clipping in some earrings. greeted by the sounds of his heavy footsteps through the house, he called back. “yeah baby?”

“can you help me with this please?” she shouted, listening as his footsteps got closer, quickly reaching the doorway to the bathroom. “oh? you look nice, where you going?” he asked, closing in to place gentle hands around her waist, grinning at her through the mirror.

“just out with kie and pope, nothing fancy, i just felt like dressing up” she answered nonchalantly. her brows furrowed for a split second as she felt his grip around her tighten. “something wrong?” she cooed, turning to face him, puzzled.

“well, uhh..i think you should know this before you go then..” he sighed, scratching the back of his head. “know what?” she questioned, leaning back to rest on the counter.

“i overheard them, the pogues i mean, talking about you the other day, well, talking about us..” he trialed off, feigning slight sadness. “what were they saying?”

“i didn’t hear the whole thing, you know? didn’t want to cause any issues, just like you asked me not to, but um..they said they were using you for information, about me..”

“about you?” she gasped, her heart tearing as she listened intently. “yeah, you know, me and the pogues don’t have a great history, and they want to get to me through you..”

she stood, mouth agape as the words ran around in circles in her mind, staring forward as he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before exiting the bathroom.

her eyes glazed over as she glared into the now empty doorway, astonished at what rafe had just told her. mentally cursing herself, she turned back to the mirror, abruptly reaching for the makeup wipes before taking off her freshly done face.

the tears continued to flow as she discarded the nice outfit she’d picked out, changing back into a set of pyjamas.

y/n huffed as she furiously wiped away the hot liquid, angry at herself for falling for the pogues’ tricks, as well as being so naive to believe they actually wanted to be friends with her.

passing down the stairs, her slippers scuffed against the hardwood flooring as she made her way to the living room, where rafe was situated.

turning on her arrival, his features softened as he took in her flushed, puffy appearance. “awe angel, c’mere…” he cooed, arms outstretched as she rounded the couching, falling into his lap with a sigh.

“it’s okay princess, you didn’t need them anyways, you’ve got me..” he soothed, stroking a few stray hair behind her ear as she sobbed against him, soaking the midriff of his t-shirt.

“you don’t need anyone but me baby, i’m not going anywhere..” he spoke softly, smirking to himself.

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d3wdropz · 5 months

Text

DIVINITY: PROLOGUE ~ SUKUNA X READER

a/n okay I'm very excited about this!

I'm planning on splitting up the story into a prologue, fight, smut, then epilogue. I love build-up and world building, not just the smutty stuff, so be prepared for more of a plot w/ porn set up- plans may change though and upload schedule will be chaotic so be prepared

hope you all enjoy!

pairing: True Form! Sukuna x Curse! Fem! Reader

word count: 2.9k

summary: Sukuna is feared and respected, a self-proclaimed "natural calamity". Shrouded in power and mystery, not much is known about him, other than the fact that if you bore him you'll likely face a gruesome demise.

Now where does that leave you? A powerful and new "natural calamity" as Sukuna would say.

content warning: no smut, fem! reader, canon-typical violence, descriptions of violence, blood, death, swearing, kind of anti-hero/villainous reader, canon! sukuna , slightly non-canon setting

credit to @cafekitsune for all the amazing dividers!!!

The Heian Era- a time that would later be recognized as the 'Golden Age of Jujutsu'. A period full of strong sorcerers- and curses.

Yet, no matter their strength, no one stood a chance against the reigning king: Ryomen Sukuna. The very mention of his name sent fear into those who heard it. While he stayed on top of the food chain, there was nothing to be done.

If a village wanted a chance at survival, they had expectations to uphold.

First: respect and fear the King of Curses. Even if he's miles away, when he is spoken of, it should be with care and respect. No one is sure if it's true, but there are tales of villagers speaking of Lord Sukuna in a lowly manner- only for them to be cut in-half before they could finish.

Second: his arrival should be met with offerings and praise. Not to feed his ego, but to give him a reason not to burn a town to the ground. If, for some terrible reason, a village has Sukuna housed within it, he is to be treated like a God. Anything less would mean the death of hundreds, such an easy act that Sukuna would do it with his eyes closed.

The third, and final, rule: everyone is beneath him. No one is allowed to look him in the eye, talk to him, or even breath too close to him. Weaklings are expected to know their place. If they forget, Lord Sukuna happily reminds them of his strength by crushing their windpipe with one of his four hands.

No village has ever really strayed from these rules after they were made- not if they wanted to live. Due to this, Sukuna's arrivals come with a sort of schedule: an invitation made in hopes of gaining his favor, offering and celebration preparation, the 'festivities', and finally, his departure.

The latest, pitiful town Sukuna has found himself in is in their third stage. He's seated comfortably on a pedestal of sorts, with Uraume close by. If Sukuna were to be honest, he finds these kind of events boring and tacky. He can't help but sneer when he looks into a sea of sad, lowly, humans giving him hollow praise to stay alive.

As Sukuna sits in his head, he thinks that maybe he endures this because there's nothing better to do. Pillaging and bloodshed isn't fun if don't give yourself the chance to relax, ready yourself for the next venture.

Another perk of being invited to these celebrations: hearing gossip. It's no surprise that Sukuna is not a very social man, and Uraume is no better when they spend all of their time with him. So these short instances give him a chance to hear the latest news.

It's not like he would be ignorant to anything if he truly wanted to know. He just finds more excitement in finding things out when villagers whisper their gossip to one another- it also gives him something to do.

Lucky for him, the townspeople are bustling with news. Their voices are full of fear and concern. They try to hide it, try to keep Sukuna's attention on the various gifts they offer him. It's not enough, sadly, and he's becoming intrigued.

This distress isn't being caused by him, from what he can hear and tell. None of them have verified or given a name to what is on their minds, so Sukuna decides to wait it out.

Night falls by the time Sukuna finally knows what's going on. By now, the offerings have been made, the praises have been given, and this meant it was time for him to take his leave. Both him and Uraume can see the sweat bead on the elder's heads as Sukuna remains seated.

Uraume is confused as well, but is wise enough to not question or make a fuss- Sukuna does as he pleases, sometimes with no rhyme or reason. Their job is to serve him, and right now that meant refilling his cup.

Just as he's about to call it a night, fed up with waiting for something interesting to happen, Sukuna hears it. Some young, quiet girl was speaking with her friend as they cleaned up. Their conversation was of some new curse- 'if you could call her that' as they said- was causing chaos in a neighboring village.

As Sukuna continued to listen, the girl shared more. She informed her friend that the curse seemed to appear out of nowhere, one that no one recognized. The rumors are that she looks human, beautiful even! But she's really a cold-hearted monster. When her companion scoffs and claims this to be false, that if this were true more people would know about it, the girl argues back. She explains that this has all happened within the span of a day or two.

Sukuna quirks his brow, slightly surprised by this news. He didn't sense any new cursed energy, at least to the extent that this girl is speaking of. If some curse were to be close by with this much power, he would know. But, it would bring some much-needed entertainment if this rumor were to be true.

Just as Sukuna was about to rise from his seated position, he felt something shift. It was as if a balance inside of him tilted. He tensed up and looked to the source, sensing it's placement. Uraume turned to the direction, having picked up on the intrusion as well.

Within seconds, a shriek was heard. It was quickly cut off by the sound of clatters. The shift Sukuna felt morphed into a detection of cursed energy just as the scream died.

As if the yell was some kind of alarm, the village quickly fell into disarray as people ran away. Families held each other tight as they rushed to the center of town, right where Sukuna was seated.

He watched as their determined faces fell, filling with fear and despair as they were met with the sight of the King of Curses. It was easy to see that the villagers were now stuck between two deadly curses, having to chose which death they'd prefer.

Without hesitation, Uraume calmly creates a rush of ice that destroys all of the obstacles between them and the curse that's entered the village- leaving behind a small pile of dead bodies. It was a simple and effective move, the opponent is caught off-guard and usually frozen in the ice. Oftentimes Uraume freezes the curse until they're veins are frozen solid, an easy victory.

So Uraume is left shocked when they watch the ice fly back towards them. It's wasn't too fast, they're able to create a wall that protects both them and Sukuna. They try to analyze the curse, but it's hard to see them through the ice.

Before Uraume could speak, a joyful laugh rang through the silent village. To any human, it sounded innocent and childish. But Sukuna and his attendent knew better, they sensed the power oozing from the curse, the malice behind that laugh.

With his interest peaked, Sukuna stood up, towering over the wall of ice after he cuts it away. He's left intrigued for the second time that night when he sees a woman standing before him, now only about 300 feet away.

She looks to be about 20, but appearances can't be trusted when dealing with immortal cursed spirits. Her body is adorned in a loosely fitting, silk robe. It's large and ill-fitted on her, falling off one shoulder, showing off soft skin. There are unmistakable dots and splashes of blood that stain the front of the pristine and bright fabric.

Her laughter dies down as she wipes away a tear. When she looks up, her eyes lock onto one pair of Sukuna's. An amused smile spreads on her face as she stands tall.

"Well, I knew there was something interesting here. I could feel it," she spoke carelessly, twirling a strand of hair and cocking her head to the side, "I didn't think it would be this fun."

By now, the rest of the villagers have snuck away. This left an empty town, with only the sounds of fire crackling and the curses to fill the night.

Sukuna can hear Uraume sneer, disgusted by the disrespect coming from this uncivilized curse, "Have some decorum." Their voice is full of malice, as they ready for another attack.

Deciding to take this chance to observe the curse in front of him, Sukuna doesn't stop Uraume from using Frost Calm. He watches as the cold air quickly makes it way to their adversary. Both curses are left confused as the blast is halted just inches away from the woman's face.

The smile is quickly replaced by a glare and disgusted look. She glances at them, giving the Frost Calm in front of her little thought, "I didn't come here to fight some insignificant, little snowflake."

With that, she sent the attack right back at Uraume. This time, it was different. It was faster, more concentrated, and dripping with an immense amount of cursed energy. Left with no time to react, the smaller curse is sent flying backwards and into some buildings. Their impact is made worse as the ice encases them.

"Compared to the sheer amount of cursed energy you exude, that little pebble was nothing," the woman takes a few steps forward. Only now does Sukuna notice just how unproperly done her robe is. As soon as the binding at her waist ends, there's a large slit that reveals her legs, just short enough to hide her more intimate parts. Even with a lack of shoes, her feet and legs seem to be clean- in fact everything about her seems to be unblemished except for the blood. It leaves the Cursed King confused, but he easily drops it.

If Sukuna wasn't busy observing her and trying to figure out what exactly her cursed technique was, he would find her attire humorous and immature. It reminded him of Yorozu, her naked introduction still recent. A quick thought crosses his mind: is it some new trend for female curses to walk around half-naked? He knows he has no room to speak but at least he wears proper pants.

Coming out of his thoughts, Sukuna lifts his head and smirks ever-so slightly, "You're one to talk, woman."

Anyone could tell that this lady is a talker, and she returns his smile with a mischievous one of her own. "I wouldn't know, I'm new here," she stretches, raising her arms above her head, "All I know is that when I sense something strong- like you- I find it-" her eyes seem to shimmer as she stares into his own crimson ones, "and I take it."

With a little more time to stare into her eyes, Sukuna was able to detect what that excited gleam was: hunger. Some part of him felt a shiver run down his spin when she licked her lips and lowered her arms, "The stronger they are, the better they taste."

This leaves Sukuna chuckling under his breath, willing to humor her, "Aw, so that's it," in an instant, Sukuna is right in front of the woman, towering over her, "you're a dumb little thing that just came to life, hungry for power."

She held her ground, staring up at him confidently with a sort of excitement in her eyes, "I wouldn't say I'm dumb," in retaliation to his attempt at intimidation, she quickly pokes his chest. It was a gentle movement, something he wouldn't have even noticed. If it wasn't for the shocking strength he felt as he was forced to lean back. "but you would be right about the other thing, I just came to be about three days ago."

For any other curse, they would have been sent flying a few meters back. If she were to have used that move on a human, their chest would have been shot open from the force. This interested her even more as she took a simple hop back, only for her to fly high into the air. She then sat herself on a nearby roof, leaning her head on her knees.

"You're the most interesting thing I've found, none of the others could talk, or lasted that move," she grinned down at Sukuna.

Both of them knew this was just banter. The fighting hasn't quite commenced yet. They seemed too invested in the other, neither ready to kill and miss out on this opportunity to chat.

Sukuna glances up at her, crossing a pair of his arms, "Is that meant to impress me, woman?"

She only gives him a cheeky smile, "Not at all, I can tell that you're powerful, feared. Something like that would do nothing to sway you from fighting me." She closes her eyes thoughtfully, "I am curious as to who you are, you'll be the first thing I've ever cared enough to remember the name of. The first. . . 'curse'- if what the humans call me is true- that makes me need to try out my abilities."

His excitement only intensifies- this woman is something else. Sukuna can tell that this battle will be one for him to remember. It won't be simple, one-sided, and consist of him using his cleave to destroy his enemy in a second. He'll really get to go all out, get to have fun.

A rumble reverberates in his chest, a chuckle, "I'm your king, woman." Sukuna slicks his hair back out from his vision, smirking at and teasing the younger curse which only grows as she furrows her brows in anger.

She raises her hand lazily, keeping it level to her head, "You're getting annoying." The woman thinks for a second, before a smile graced her face, as if a light-bulb went off. She stands up from her seated position and jumps to the ground.

Out of annoyance, and some respect for her confidence, Sukuna averts his eyes from her figure as the wind blows her robe about. It doesn't reveal much, and Sukuna might be a tyrant, but he still likes to think of himself as a chivalrous adversary.

When she's on the ground again, she walks right up to him again. Her hands a clasped in front of her, joyfully. In any other circumstance, she would be a puddle of blood for getting this close to the King of Curses. But, Sukuna must admit that her presence has provided him entertainment for the night. So he allows it.

"I know! If I beat you, you'll tell me your name. If you win, I'll tell you mine. I'd love to continue this conversation, as you're the most fascinating thing I've come across in my short life. But- I'm itching to have a little fun." Sukuna listens to her ramble, rolling his eyes at her proposition.

Now, Sukuna can't help but find this plain hilarious. This stupid, little curse is making a simple bet and placing her life on the line. He could almost smack her on the back of her head from how absurd it sounds- but, if he were to agree, he'd get to truly see her abilities.

With a lop-sided grin, Sukuna extends his hand, imbuing it with cursed energy in preparation for the binding vow. He watches as confusion washes onto her face as she stares at his hand.

"What are you doing?" her voice is laced with frustration and bewilderment.

His brows raise before he lets out an exasperated sigh, "I forgot you're new- this" he nods his head to his hand "is a binding vow. It's a promise made with cursed energy that requires us to fulfill it. In this instance, it makes you're silly deal something that must be upheld."

She nods in understanding, taking an extra second to study his hand. She then shakes it, both of them taking a second to feel the difference in hand sizes. Hers is dwarfed within his, practically invisible when held in Sukuna's. This brief touch is also a chance for them to feel the others cursed energy on a closer level, more personal.

From what Sukuna could pick up on, before he dropped her hand, was that this wouldn't be an easy fight. He's both put on edge and roused by the amount of cursed energy coursing through her veins. What makes it even better is that she's completely unaware of the power she's holding.

He can't wait to be the person that forces her to unlock it.

The two take a few simple steps back. Sukuna grips his kamutoke in one hand, readying for battle. The woman, on the other hand, stands gleefully in place. She has no weapon, isn't readying any chants or dances, hell- she doesn't even look serious.

Even with her immature behavior, the female curse looks her enemy in the eyes with an intensity Sukuna's only seen in few. She puts her hands on her hips and tilts her head, "Ready?"

Sukuna nods with content, watching from the corner of his eye as Uraume finally begins to make their way over again. The look he shoots them is enough for the servant to realize this wasn't something for them to interfere in. Instead, they stand in the background, ready to jump in whenever their master needed.

As both curses begin to emit immense amounts of cursed energy in preparation for the fight, Uraume can't help but notice a new emotion reflect in Sukuna's gaze. It's something they've never seen him express before, though most ordinary people usually experience it many times. It leaves them confused and wondering what the hell conspired while they were incapacitated.

The thing that's left Uraume stumped, that's making it's first appearance in the Cursed King's eyes, is admiration.

Admiration for the curse that's about to battle with him to the death.

final notes okay! wow- i'm sorry this took so long! i'm happy to get this ball rolling though, be prepared for some fighting and more explanation in the next part!

oh- also i hope sukuna isn't too ooc in this- it's hard to get that guy down!

hope you enjoyed!

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk sukuna #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk ryomen #ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna imagine #jjk imagines #jjk x you #jjk x y/n

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fricc-darn · 21 days

Text

Warning for abuse involving teens and adults (mental and physical), poor mental health, and just upsetting topics

None of them asked for this life, not in the slightest. Not one person was prepared for this to be the outcome of their ascension. Everyone wanted to go home. Whatever was left behind of their old lives, they'd gladly choose anything but this. It seemed like each day, someone new would be added to the system. So many people with their aspirations and desires ripped away from them. It was a cycle of tragedy.

The lives they had lived were difficult, cruel, and shameful. Being utterly disenfranchised meant that society would turn a blind eye to the most vulnerable. It made them easy targets, to be picked off the street like ripened berries. They were lulled into this fellowship with false promises of self-improvement and community.

To be told that the pain they felt was nothing but a wound that would soon heal with tougher skin. With guidance, their gifted potential would shine through. Every single person involved had a purpose. To live a devoted life to Luna's cause. An eternity of paradise awaited them after death.

The day of true enlightenment would come when midnight whispers came to them sweetly. When it happens, death shouldn't be feared but embraced, as they have surpassed this life. That is when this world and all of its unfairness come to an end. They would survive. She had chosen for them to live. It had given them hope.

But those whispers never came. Yet, people were told their time had come.

If only they had known that they would be used as some kind of lab rat. Everyone's naiveté and what remained of their childlike wonder were weaponized against them repeatedly. Having their bodies humiliated in the name of spirituality. Their flesh was mangled by barbarism and left to rot. Ultimently, they would never be treated with the deserved humanity, even after death. If only they had known to stop feeding into the lies.

They were worn thin. Was anything they were taught real? It had to be, to some degree. This world was supposed to be salvation, but the skepticism couldn't be helped. They did what they were supposed to. Cleansing the filth that tainted their souls. Putting what little confidence they had left into Luna. A perfect fairytale for this never-ending nightmare. Maybe life would have been kinder if they weren't deeply troubled individuals. Loving parents? A stable environment? Better physical and mental health? Anything?

Yet, what could anyone do about what was said and done? This was a prison for tortured souls.

Not only were their experiences shared, but now so were their pain, their sadness, and their anger. A collective burning resentment felt so heavy that they wondered if they were all from the same womb. As if this was the family they craved.

They were one. With themselves and everyone in their...group. Expressing a newfound tenderness towards each other during their troubles. For some, memories were being stripped and forgotten after a few days. Others desperately clung on to what they could remember. The ability to live on after death was a true gift as much as it was a curse. A second chance, if you will. Was this a gift from man or Luna?

Truthfully, this new life was better to some degree. This wasn't a repeating lie they would say in an attempt to pacify their rapidly changing emotions. People don't suffer for nothing. There was meaning behind it. It was a beautiful weakness that easily bloomed like a sore. It was so human. A reminder of what they were no longer. They were now something much more than any person. Life was going to be different this time around. As a collective, they swore on it. For themselves and each other.

No one would have to endure the inescapable abuse that was inflicted upon them ever again. In this world, they were never hungry or cold; they had a place to sleep and clothes on their backs. Here, it was safe. No one could hurt them again, and they'd make sure of it.

The darkest parts of every soul, which were once hidden away, began to reveal themselves. Communal bitterness festered and spread like the plague. They were all told anything could happen in this world. They could be or do anything. In that case, they would do things they could only dream of. Everyone wished that they had lived life more selfishly, and now was their chance. If their souls were truly bound to this God-forsaken game, it would only make sense to treat life like one.

The network grew curious. For the first time, they had control over their lives. The roles have changed. It wanted to know what it was like to hurt someone. To feel how good it felt to break someone down to nothing. To have things go their way. They needed to hurt someone; it was instinctual. To prove to themselves that there was some bright side to this mess. That it has the ability to make people listen. Using the same methods that others have done to them.

Who they were as individuals mattered little. They'd make their presence known as one. It was only fair that after what they've been through, their amusement should be placed before all else. They deserved this; this was their reward! If only they had a fraction of this authority sooner.

#ben drowned #behavioral event network #creepypasta #jadusable arg #ben drowned headcanon #i LOVE BEN angst

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seungiepop · 7 months

Text

𝑵𝒐 𝑵𝒖𝒕 𝑵𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓

L number one pt 2

pairing: enha x best friend reader

characters: all enha members, Shin Yuna (itzy), Choi Beomgyu (TXT), and Mark lee (NCT)

caution: sexual context (only implied on the legal line), cursing, the reader is an 03’ line with sunoo and yuna

genre: social media au and one shots

wc: 1.2k

L number one p1

Masterlist | previous | next

ⓝⓝⓝ

Heeseung stepped into the warm apartment, the smell of fresh baked goods roamed in his scent. Walking through the crowded hallway towards the kitchen he saw Y/n cutting up some fruit “Hey pretty girl!”

“Hee! You scared me!”

“Sorry angel.”

“The Vacuum is in the closet down the hall.” she tells him, placing down the knife and wiping her hands with the kitchen cloth.

He nodded his head walking back to the hallway quickly grabbing the cleaning device, walking back to the kitchen. Taking a good look at her he was quick to notice how skimpy her outfit was, the small sleeping shorts with the loose tank top, obvious that she didn’t bother to put on a bra. “So I uh notice Mark and Gyu walking out?” Clearing his throat, pulling out the stool across from her. “Oh yeah! They were playing the game but Mark got a call from Sun that their espresso machine broke.” she huffed, placing a piece of strawberry in her mouth.

“Yikes! the new one?”

She nodded head “Yup, poor Sunoo sounded so done.” she chuckles, placing some of the fruit in a small bowl.”You want some?” gesturing to the fruit. He nodded signaling her to get closer, with a small smile she walked around the counter standing a little closer to him than she normally does.

Y/n had this all planned, knowing how much he loved when it came to her feeding him any type of food. Picking a piece of the fruit she gestured to him to open up to feed him. She watched the way his plump lips wrapped around the silverware and humming at the sweet taste bursting in his mouth.

Fuck how does she make a piece of watermelon taste sweeter than it is?

“S’good” he swallowed

She smiled, glad that he enjoyed it. “Have a strawberry, they’re very juicy and delicious”.

Taking a bit of the red fruit she was feeding his way, he felt a bit of the fruit juice drip on the side of his lips. “Shit-” he pulled back about to wipe his lips off but was stopped “here let me get that for you” she whispered wiping the juice with her thumb making sure he was looking right at her before sucking it off her thumb.

Heeseung cursed to himself, watching the way her glossy lips wrapped around her thumb to suck off the excess juice. Biting his lip he placed a hand on hip pulling her to stand in between his now spread legs “You know, I was really sad that you chose to study with your college friends instead of hanging out with us.” she pouted, wrapping his hoodie string around her finger pulling him even closer so their faces were now inches away from each other.

Heeseung cooed at her expression “I'm sorry doll, but school has really been kicking my ass with finals and stuff that I really haven't been able to go out with.”

Y/n nodded her head understanding, she truly admired him for dedicating so much of his time towards his studies. “You seem really stressed-'' she hummed carefully, running her fingers through his hair and slightly messaging his scalp. Heeseung felt himself lean into her touch, her hands were like magic or something he could bust a whole nut just from her head scratches. His mind was turning into mush “-is there anything I could do to help let out all that tension?”

Why can I feel this on my dick?

“Huh?”

She chuckled at his droopiness “Does that feel good seungie?”

“Mhm..”

Her fingers are fucking magic

“Come on, let's go to the couch, you can relax better over there.”

Taking his hand she led him to the living room, telling him to take a seat before heading back to the kitchen to grab the bowl of her fruit.

“You should take your hoodie off seungie. I turned on the heater not too long before you arrived.” Gesturing to the hood he had on. Making a move Y/n leaned closer to help him remove the piece of clothing, her fingers lightly grazing over the tone muscle of his stomach.

Fuck

He was wearing a plain white shirt, it was so simple yet he made it look good. “You look so tired..” she frowns,

the bags under his eyes are more prominent than ever. Y/n truly wondered if he even gets the right amount of sleep every night. “Don’t worry about me pretty-“ he smiled cupping her cheek with his palm “-i’m fine.” His eyes looked down at her lips, he kissed those lips so many times yet something about the fruit made them look so irresistible.

Y/n inspected his handsome face, his slender nose, brown bambi shaped eyes just looking at her with something she couldn’t read between lust and admiration maybe? Who knows but she loved it.

“Kiss me seungie.”

He didn’t need to be told twice pulling her by the waist his lips connecting with hers. She couldn’t contain the smile that broke out, her hands cradling her face to deepen the kiss. Heeseung couldn’t help himself she needed to be closer

His lips trailed down to her neck, smirking as the noises leaving her lips began to increase. His lips felt like heaven on her neck, the way he sucked harshly yet ran his tongue over the forming bruise sending shivers down her spine. Letting out a breathless giggle she trailed her hand down to his crotch, feeling his bulge harden under her touch.

Heeseung groaned as she continued to palm him through his sweats when was the last time i even nutted? he wondered feeling himself almost cum from her light touches. It truly has been so long since Heeseung has fucked someone properly, is it even worth it lasting a whole month when he hasn’t gotten a single orgasm in four? (not counting his hand).

fuck this bet

I need to get laid

it’s been way too long

Heeseung's grip on her hair tightened, pulling her up against his sweaty chest, his hips slapping against her ass. The new angle makes her eyes rolling back at the new sensation of pleasure, she’s never felt this type of pleasure when it came to anybody. Her tight pussy felt so good wrapped around him, the warm tight feeling of her gummy walls just sucking him in perfectly he was so gone of the pleasure that he had almost forgotten about the bet.

“Hee- faster please!” she whimpered out.

Eyes screwing as he sped up his thrust, the tight pit feeling of her orgasm building up in the pit of her stomach just threatening to snap.

No wonder Chenle spoke so highly of her

Heeseung stop that’s disgusting

Just the thought of their ex-friend alone pissed him off so much he let go of the grip he had on her hair and turned her over so she was now facing him. Sitting back on the couch Heeseung held her hips thrusting in and out of her. Her legs began to shake as the soreness took over her body, almost about to give up. But Heeseung grabbed her by the waist thrusting upwards, hitting her spot every time. Her vision began to blur as the pit tightened with each thrust of his cock.

“I'm cumming, I'm cumming!” she let out the loudest moan of the night as her body shook out of pleasure, her walls spasming around his cock.

He cursed as her orgasm triggered his, he thrust into her a few more times before pulling out, admiring their juices mixed together.

$1200 down the drain

Authors note: Here is the long awaited “L number one” part 2. I apologize for making you guys wait so long, it was supposed to be posted two days ago but something came up but here you guys go! Hope you guys enjoy <3

taglist- @ilovecheese09 @namdeyuoi @moonshoon @xrr-s4sha @yannew @cup1dton @eternallyreid @heewonenthusiast @rikisly @parkhonnie @wvnkoi @slugism @yizhoutv @jakewife @bahngchatsfx @kangseulgithegreat @jinnisbaby @heeseungshim @wonswondrland @underneaththestarlight @theskzvibe @enhaz1 @kkaelie @firstclassjaylee @wonniie3 @lol6sposts

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skz317cb97 · 1 year

Text

Color Theory

Jeongin x Female reader

Word count: 7.2k

Synopsis: Your world is varying shades of grey until you meet your soulmate, Jeongin, who brightens up your life in more ways than one.

A/N: 18+ ONLY! This, I swear to God, went from I have no idea for this story to 7.2k words and I have NO idea how. I hope you enjoy though! If you do please reblog, like, comment, shoot me an ask. I love hearing from you all it makes my day! As always warnings and smut below the cut!

Warnings: 18+ONLY MDNI! Cursing/strong language, character death, unprotected piv sex (please use condoms), cum shot, cum eating (a teensy bit). I think that's everything but if I missed something let me know and I'll add it asap!

Your mom was teaching you your primary colors. You had learned your shapes and you were working on numbers and letters and now she was working on your colors, an important part of your mother’s world being an artist. Your mom didn’t get why you were having such a hard time getting them right when you had picked everything else up so easily. It was your dad that actually mentioned the possibility of you being color blind as he was passing through the living room where you and your mom were playing during a break from his writing.

She realized your dad might be right so she set up an optometrist appointment for you and had your eyes examined. When the doctor looked, he determined that you had monochromacy or in other words you were completely color blind. It was quite rare really, most people that were color blind had trouble seeing certain colors, but you saw none which was so rare it happened to one in thirty-thousand people worldwide. Being a girl made it even less likely as well since color blindness occurred more in men than women but you were the one in thirty thousand apparently. Your mom’s heart broke a little knowing you’d never get to know and love colors the way she did but she made sure that art was still a part of your life.

You were thankful for that because art ended up being your outlet, your escape, your fantasy world to get lost inside. Any form you could create in you would, drawing, pottery, pastels, but you especially loved painting. You used an array of colors but only ever saw varying shades of gray so you used a lot of texture in your art as well. You became quite well known among the avid art collectors in your city for your unique style and the lack of your ability to see colors. Your paintings were variations of colors chosen by someone with no idea what color was, with the textures it was art that came off the canvas. Your name finally got passed around enough that one of the more selective galleries asked you to do an exhibition. You were working on some canvases for that when your mom walked into your studio. She set down a tupperware bowl and made her way over to you. She wiped at paint on your face shaking her head.

“You wear as much as the canvas does sometimes.” You nodded knowingly.

“I know sometimes I get lost in it and the next thing I know I have spackle caked in my hair.” If anyone understood it was your mom. She looked at what you were working on.

“You’re using a lot of pinks and reds in this one.” You looked at it.

“Have I? I stopped looking at the names on the tubes.” Your mother nodded, examining the amazing work you’d done only knowing black and white and the grays in between.

“I think this one will be my favorite when it’s finished.” You smiled. She was so proud of you. Then she pointed at the food she brought, knowing if she didn’t, you wouldn’t stop and eat. She distracted you just long enough to get you to break away and feed yourself. About halfway through your food your mom got up, squeezed you and kissed the top of your head.

“I’m going to get home sweetie. I have to make sure your dad eats too.” She shook her head at the likenesses you shared with your father.

“Don’t stay up all night.” You nodded knowing damn well you probably would. You had paintings to get done.

“Okay mom I won’t.” Your mother looked at you knowing it was complete bullshit but smiled and headed out.

“I love you sweetie.” You waved as you headed back towards your canvas.

“I love you too mom.” You put your headphones on and got lost in your canvas again. When your dad walked up behind you he scared the absolute shit out of you. You looked at the time and were surprised at how late it was, you pulled your headphones off.

“Dad wha-” The look on his face told you something was horribly wrong.

“It’s mom...” He said and you started to shake your head no as tears came to your eyes.

“No.” He walked towards you trying to grab your hand and you backed away.

“It started to rain, and the car slid...” You kept shaking your head back and forth.

“She’s okay she’s just hurt. Right?” Tears streaked your dad’s face.

“Right?!” Your dad shook his head no.

“She... she didn’t make it sweetie.” You collapsed to your knees and your dad grabbed your shoulders making sure you didn’t hurt yourself falling. You looked up at the half eaten food on the table that she had brought you. If you weren’t so worried about the stupid exhibit, if you had just taken enough care to eat, if she didn’t think she had to bring you dinner, she’d still be alive. When you left your studio that day, you locked it and refused to step foot in it again.

Your dad made all the arrangements and somehow you made it through your mother’s wake and funeral. You moved in with your dad after your mom died and took care of him. Made sure he ate, lifted his head from his computer from time to time so his eyes didn’t burn out of his head. You had wanted to get rid of your studio. Just sell it and let whoever bought it toss the paintings, but your dad wouldn’t let you. He told you to hold onto it, just because you didn’t feel like you could now, didn’t mean you never would. He hoped one day you’d go back to your painting. Two years went by and as fast as your name had been passed around it disappeared from people's lips just as quickly. You were glad.

You were starting dinner and writing down a grocery list when the house phone rang. Your dad was elbow deep in his novel, he wouldn’t stop for a house fire, so you answered it.

“Hello?” You heard a man clear his throat on the other end of the line.

“Oh hi! Uh, My name is Yang Jeongin...”

“We don’t want to buy any but thanks.” You hung up and started to head back over to the food on the stove. You just stirred the sauce when the phone rang again. You sighed and walked over to answer it again. More irritated this time, you were going to burn your dinner.

“Hello?!” He cleared his throat again.

“Hi sorry, I’m not selling anything I’m trying to find an artist by the name of y/n?” You froze, speechless.

“Hello?” Click. You hung up again and walked over to the dinner. The phone rang again and you let it but it kept going and going. You stormed over.

“What do you want!” He was surprised at your outburst.

“I... I... uh are you Ms. Y/n?" His voice had gotten small and you started to feel bad for blowing up on him for no real reason. You sighed taking a deep breath.

“Yea. I’m y/n.” He suddenly got very excited on the phone.

“Oh! Okay um I'm so sorry to bother you but I am a HUGE fan of your art work and I was wondering if you’d be willing to do a commissioned piece for me?” You pinched the bridge of your nose trying to fight off the headache that was creeping up behind your eyes. You sighed.

“I don’t paint anymore.” He hummed.

“Oh...”

“Yea so goodb-”

“Why not?” You were starting to get angry again. You had listened to him and answered him, what more did he want?

“That’s really none of your business. Goodbye.” You hung up and finished dinner. You and your dad sat at the table together as you ate.

“Oh who called earlier.” You shook your head taking another bite.

“No one.” Your dad hummed looking at you.

“What?” He shrugged.

“No one called three times in a row.” You sighed frustrated by your dad’s persistence sometimes.

“Okay! It was some guy asking me to paint him something. I’m not going to.” Your dad nodded.

“Some guy? Did he say who he was?” You nodded and continued to try and focus on your meal and not the conversation you didn’t want to be having.

“Yang... Yang Jeon or something like that. It doesn’t matter, I don’t paint anymore.” Your dad dropped his fork.

“Yang Jeongin?” You shook your head.

“Yea that was it.” Your dad sat there speechless.

“What dad?” He finally snapped out of it.

“You’ve never heard of Yang Jeongin?” You shrugged.

“No?” To be fair when you painted you didn’t keep up with anything on tv or the news. Even now that you didn’t paint you still never really turned on the tv.

“His family is the Yang in the LeeYang corperation. You know that name.” Well yea everyone knew that name, even if you lived under a rock. There wasn’t a single household that didn’t have something made by the LeeYang corp.

“Jeongin is the grandson of the head of the company and his dad is on their board of directors. He was just named the city's most eligible bachelor; his family is old old money.” You shrugged, picking up your plate and walking it to the sink.

“Okay so what. I still don’t paint.” Your dad picked up his plate and took it over to the sink too.

“You could.” You started to fill the sink with water and soap. Your dad stopped you and made you look at him.

“It won’t start to heal until you do sweetie.” You stuck your hands down in the water and shook your head as you tried to will away the tears welling in your eyes.

“No dad.” He sighed, kissed the side of your head and went back to his computer to get back to writing while you cleaned up dinner dishes. That night you laid in bed restless, hoping the clicking of your dad’s computer keys would put you to sleep like they had so many times as a child but you couldn’t. At around two you hollered.

“Bed dad! Brains need sleep to write novels!” You heard him sigh heavily and get up. You weren’t sure when you had turned into the parent. He stopped at your door.

“Goodnight sweetie.” You nodded.

“Goodnight dad.” Thankfully, eventually, you did manage to fall asleep and get a few hours of rest. The next day while you were doing the grocery shopping your cell phone started going off. You grabbed it thinking it was probably your dad wanting some sugary snack. He needed to start eating better and if he asked you for cupcakes you were going to get him apples and bananas. It turned out it wasn’t your dad. It was an unknown number but local so you answered it.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Y/n? It’s Jeongin. PLEASE don’t hang up!” You sighed and pushed your cart down the aisle. Holding your phone with your shoulder as you continued to grab things.

“It’s really not a good time Mr. Yang.”

“I’m sorry I really don’t mean to be a pest. Please call me Jeongin.” You stopped and held onto the phone.

“What can I do for you Mr. Yang?” He let out a nervous laugh.

“Uh well I was hoping that maybe you might reconsider doing the commission? Money is no object...” You hummed.

“I’m aware of who you are and what you have Mr. Yang. I don’t really care. I’m also certain that I’ve told you three times now that I no longer paint.” You hung up on him again and went back to grocery shopping. Jeongin was frustrated. He was usually one to accept a no when that was the answer but he loved your work and he didn’t know why but he needed to get you to paint one for him.

He’d bought so many of your canvas’ from other collectors,for a good deal of money since you disappeared and were no longer painting. No one knew why just that you left the scene two years before, overnight. It had been difficult to dig up contact info on you and after going through all that Jeongin was hopeful that if he asked and said the right number that you’d paint for him. Apparently you didn’t give a shit about numbers which Jeongin found endearing as much as he did frustrating.

A couple days later you were reading a book in the living room when the house phone started to ring. You closed your book, got up and answered it.

“Hello?” Nothing silence.

“Hellooo?” You heard a breath.

“Fuck off perve-”

“Wait wait! It's... I’m not... It’s Jeongin.” You rolled your eyes and sighed irritated that this man was calling you again.

“What do you want Mr. Ya-”

“To apologize...” You stopped surprised to hear his answer.

“For what?” He was surprised to not hear a dial tone.

“For being pushy and not taking no for an answer the first time. If I offended you, I’m deeply sorry.” You felt a little bad. He hadn’t offended you he was just picking at a scab he had no idea about.

“It’s fine Jeongin...” He let out a sigh of relief.

“Okay, thank you for taking my call. Have a good day Ms. y/n, goodbye...” You stopped him just before he hung up.

“WAIT!” He hummed acknowledging he was still there. You were already kicking yourself. You couldn’t believe you were about to say what you were going to say. Why were you going to say what you were about to?

“I’ll do the painting.”

“What?!” Jeongin couldn’t believe his ears.

“I’ll do the painting. Email me your specifications and-” He interrupted you.

“ANYTHING! Literally just do anything you want and tell me a price!”

“Okay okay Jeongin fine.” He wanted to ask a question but he didn’t want to push his luck either. He took a chance.

“Uh would I maybe be able to come by your studio sometime? Once you’ve started?” You hadn’t been to your studio in two years. Your dad stopped by to pick up mail every so often but you had no idea what kind of condition it was in.

“Maybe, let me get it started. Typically I don’t have spectators, especially not the customer.” He understood that and was thankful you were even considering it.

“Yes okay that’s fantastic! Thank you! Thank you so much!”

“Okay Jeongin, I’ll be in touch soon.” You both said goodbye and when you turned to go back to your book your dad was standing there.

“Did I just hear you say you were going to do the painting?” You opened your mouth to complain about his eavesdropping but he quickly cut you off.

“You know what! Forget I said anything! I didn’t hear a thing!” He ran towards the kitchen for a drink and back to his computer before you could start in and you shook your head going back to your book. It was pointless trying to read anymore. All you could think of was a canvas and how you’d move the paint across it. You slammed your book closed, grabbed your car keys and headed towards the studio.

When you got there you stood at the door for a long time. The last time you’d been in there was the day your mom died. When you finally willed yourself to go in it was like stepping into a time capsule. All your paintings were exactly where you’d left them and the one you had been working on was still propped against your easel. You walked up to it and looked at it like your mother had, then picked it up and moved it against one of the walls. You grabbed a fresh canvas, put it on the easel and stared at it, looking for the picture inside it. You stared and stared but you couldn’t see it anymore. Something your mom had planted in you was what made you see it before but she was dead and so was the plant. A whole week you kept going back staring at the blank canvas finding nothing in it.

Week two you were standing in front of the blank canvas, your headphones on trying to find some kind of inspiration. You about jumped out of your skin when someone tapped you on the shoulder.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You turned and there was a man in a button up shirt and suit jacket. He had fox like eyes that were narrow but some how still seemed kind. You both stood there stunned for a moment. You pulled your headphones down.

“Uh... can I help you?” You wanted to be mad that he’d intruded but he was so beautiful you couldn’t bring yourself to be. You were just curious who this man was standing in front of you staring at you. He shook his head as if he were getting the thoughts in order.

“OH! Uh, yea! I’m Jeongin, we spoke on the phone?” Oh. No wonder he was one of the most eligible bachelors in the city. He was a work of art himself. You still had no idea how he found your studio or what he was doing there.

“Oh Mr. Yang yes, um...” He smiled his eyes scrunching up.

“Please Jeongin is fine.” You nodded.

“Yes of course, Jeongin. How did you find me?”

“I hope it’s okay. I called you a few times and then your house, your father finally answered, he told me I could find you here.” Of course he did you thought to yourself.

“I don’t mean to be impatient I’m just excited to see any progress that you’ve made, no matter how little!” You turned and looked at the blank canvas behind you as he started looking around the room at your artwork.

“Which one is mine?” You pointed at the blank canvas and he looked surprised.

“Oh... I see. Um... well... what’s wrong?” He didn’t mean for the question to come out like it had but as soon as he asked it your face scrunched up angry.

“What do you mean what’s wrong?! It doesn’t just create itself! Why don’t you try to make art out of colors you can’t even see and see how quickly you get it done!” He put up his hands trying to calm you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to offend you I just meant like... is it why you stopped painting?” You tossed down your headphones angry.

“I’m pretty sure I said that was none of your business!” Jeongin was doing a terrible job at digging himself out of the hole he’d created.

“You’re right I’m sorry it is, I didn’t mean to pry I just, if I can help...” You walked over to the door and opened it.

“Right now you can help by leaving.” He bowed and walked towards the open door. He looked at you as he passed by.

“I’m sorry I intruded. I won’t bother you again, I’ll wait for your call.” He rushed out and down the stairs towards the exit of the building. You slammed your door shut and walked back over to the canvas picking up your headphones and staring at it angrily. You glanced over at the painting you’d worked on the night of your mom’s accident and then did a double take. You saw the shades of red your mom had mentioned when she had looked at it. How? You rubbed your eyes expecting everything to go back to normal but when you opened them you saw shades of blue in other paintings lying around along with the red.

They were all so bright it almost hurt to look at them and then slowly you saw yellow start to seep into your vision. First a pale yellow then a yellow as bright and vibrant as the reds and blues you could see now too. It wasn’t just the paint though everywhere throughout your studio reds, blues, and yellows popped. You rummaged through your paint tubes grabbing the colors and started smattering them across the canvas adding spackle and sand, cotton and ripped paper. When you stepped back you were covered in the vibrant colors and you had Jeongin’s painting started.

That night when you went home your dad was as happy as he could possibly be to see you walk in covered in paint. You didn’t mention the colors. What if you went to bed and woke up and they were gone? You decided if it didn’t go away you by the time you were done with the painting, you’d tell your dad. The next morning when you woke up you looked at your coveralls from the day before and there, smeared all over the front of it, was red, blue and yellow. You were ecstatic! You pulled on another pair of old bibs and ran to head to the studio. Your dad hollered on your way out the door.

“Hey! Breakfast! Most important meal!” You waved as you grabbed your keys.

“I’ll grab some on the way! See you for dinner dad!” He waved and smiled, grabbing his toast and coffee, heading back to his own work as the door slammed closed behind you. When you got to the studio you started staring at the canvas blankly again. When your cell phone rang it gave you an excuse to look at something else other than your half-finished painting. It was Jeongin. So much for not calling you. You felt kind of guilty for going off on him so badly the day before so you answered.

“Hello?” He always cleared his throat before speaking to you, like he was struggling to form his words.

“Hi y/n, it’s Jeongin... well yes... you know that. Uh... would you like to meet me for coffee tomorrow?” You were confused, did he have more questions? He probably wanted to fire you or...

“Like... a date?” You asked and he started to stammer. This man was the most eligible bachelor?

“Well... um... yes? If you want to! No pressure! I’ll still buy the painting either way!” You were a little flabbergasted.

“Uhhh... I... yea... I guess so.” He let out a huge breath.

“REALLY?!” You couldn’t help but laugh a little at his shock.

“Yes Jeongin. I will meet you tomorrow for a coffee date.” He laughed and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Great okay! Uh... eleven? The shop around the corner from your studio?”

“See you then.” You hung up and started staring at your canvas again frustrated. You made little to no progress the rest of the day and you went home discouraged after having such a burst of inspiration the day before. The next day you went to the studio early, trying and failing to make a little more progress. Before you left to head to the coffee shop you took a couple pictures of what you had done on your phone so you could show Jeongin. When you walked into the café Jeongin was already there waiting at a table. You walked over and he stood up smiling pulling a chair out for you. You bowed smiling.

“Thank you.” He nodded, his cheeks a little pink. The two of you ordered coffee and broke the tension with a little small talk. The conversation naturally evolved into likes and dislikes and you asked a lot of questions about Jeongin trying to keep the topic of conversation off of you. Before you knew it an hour had gone by.

“Oh, wow has it been that long?” Jeongin asked.

“Yea, I should probably head back to the studio and try to get some more done.” Jeongin’s eyes lit up.

“More?!” You had completely forgot to mention the painting.

“Oh yea, well... after you left the other day I made some progress and got it started, here I’ve got some pic-”

“Can I walk you to the studio and see?!” Jeongin’s eyes were scrunched up and his dimples were showing. You’d had a nice time; you didn’t see why not.

“Okay, but only for a minute, I need to work more.” Jeongin stood up excited. He grabbed your coffee ticket and his and started for the register.

“Oh you don’t-” He shook his head.

“Oh no... there’s no way in hell you’re paying for your coffee.” You chewed at your lip and smiled, looking down nodding. He was usually kind of shy around you, soft spoken, so to hear him say something so assertive... well it’s shouldn’t have done the things to your body that it had. Jeongin paid and the two of you walked towards your studio. When you got there Jeongin walked up to the partially finished canvas and looked at it. Something about the way he looked at it from different angles and so closely reminded you of how your mom used to look at your paintings and your heart squeezed inside your chest.

“It’s amazing the way you use colors like this while not being able to tell them apart. This is beautiful already. I don’t know why you would ever stop painting.” Your heart squeezed tighter in your chest and you looked over at the painting from the night of the crash. Jeongin kept looking at the textures and colors, the words that came out of his mouth next shocked not only you but him too.

“Was it your mom’s accident that made you stop, don’t you think she’d want you to continue?” He’d seen articles about the accident when he looked you up. Your jaw dropped as tears instantly welled in your eyes. Jeongin stopped looking at the painting and looked at you as he realized immediately he’d overstepped.

“What?” You heard him loud and clear you were just in disbelief.

“I...” You had snapped here and there at him but this was an all-out explosion.

“DON’T talk about my mother and DON’T assume to know me because you like my work Mr. Yang!” He shook his head.

“It’s not that! I...” You cut him off.

“Is the painting worth more to you knowing that my mom’s death was what made me quit!? That I couldn’t look at a paintbrush or canvas because all I saw was memories of my mother!? Do you need to know that to feel more connected to it!? My mother died because I was stubborn and she brought me food so I’d eat while I worked on my stupid paintings for a stupid exhibit that didn’t even matter! She crashed driving home after leaving here! I killed my mom! My selfish need to create at all costs killed my mom!” Jeongin shook his head as his eyes teared up.

“y/n... no...” You looked at him your cheeks and neck damp with your tears. You started pushing at him screaming.

“Get out! Get out! Just leave me the fuck alone! Leave me! ALONE!” You sank to the ground in front of your canvas just like you had the night your mother died. Tears were streaming down Jeongin’s face now too. He wanted to hold you. Tell you that you were wrong. That your mom dying was just an accident and it wasn’t your fault.

“Get out...” You sobbed, your words a whisper. Jeongin didn’t say anything else he turned and walked towards the door. Just before he shut it he spoke, his voice low.

“I’m sorry.” The door clicked closed and you laid on the floor crying until you fell asleep. You woke up to your cell phone ringing. You grabbed it and squinted looking at it. It was your dad. It was dark now, he was probably worried. You quickly answered.

“Uh... hello?” Your dad could tell he’d woken you up.

“Oh thank god! I was worried when you weren’t home for dinner.” You started apologizing for worrying your dad like that.

“I’m so sorry dad, I fell asleep and I guess I slept longer than I...” You turned on the studio lights and when you looked around you saw greens, and purples, orange. You stopped talking.

“y/n?” Your dad’s voice pulled you back to the conversation.

“Uh slept longer than I meant to. I’m sorry dad I’ll sleep here tonight and be home first thing in the morning.”

“Okay honey, text me when you leave and please be careful?” You hummed absent mindedly.

“Hmm I will dad. Love you.” You hung up and immediately started going through your painting tubes again, you grabbed greens, purples, blues, reds, you mixed new colors and threw paint on the canvas like it would put itself where it needed to go. A lot was still black and white but now there were so many colors! When you finished the painting, you stood back taking it in. It was the most beautiful piece of art you’d ever made. It was vibrant, colors and textures rising off the canvas but it also had a feeling underneath, a sadness, the loss was still there even though you’d gained so much color. You started to cry again, at the pain, at the beauty. When you finally pulled yourself together you pulled out your phone and texted Jeongin.

You: The painting is done. I’ll have it ready for pick up in two days.

Jeongin: I... what?

You: You still want it right?

Jeongin: YES! I DO!

You: Okay it’ll be ready Friday by five

Jeongin: I’ll see you Friday five o'clock sharp

You saw the chat bubbles appear and disappear over and over like he was writing and deleting something multiple times.

Jeongin: y/n?

You: Yes Jeongin, what...

He tried to write sorry a thousand different ways but no matter what he typed out it wasn’t right. Sorry over text for what he’d done wasn’t right.

Jeongin: Thank you

You: You’re welcome

Two days had come and gone and you could still see all the same colors. Inspiration was coming to you a bit more freely now that you’d completed Jeongin’s piece also. You still hadn’t told your dad that you were seeing colors, you still didn’t know what it meant or why it was happening so how were you supposed to explain it to him? You were working on something new when Jeongin knocked at your studio door. Right at five, just like he’d said. You opened the door and he stood there a moment just looking at you. He shook his head and snapped out of it.

“Uh hi! I might be a little early.” You opened the door more letting him in.

“No you’re fine, right on time. You walked over to the completed canvas leaned against the wall and Jeongin followed. When he looked at it his eyes welled up with tears instantly.

“It’s beautiful.” You bowed.

“Thank you.” You whispered. Jeongin turned facing you.

“y/n... I...” He was sorry. He wanted to say he was sorry but his words refused to come out once your eyes bore into his, big and glassy. He took a step towards you closing the space between you, his hand cupped your cheek and before you knew what was happening his soft lips were pressed against yours. Your eyes closed tightly as you kissed him back. He pulled away and you stood there, your fingers pressed to your lips, your eyes closed. When you finally opened them everything was in full color. Red and purple and every color in between. A tear slipped down your cheek and you suddenly realized it was Jeongin. The colors were appearing because of him. He swiped your tear away.

“Please... don’t cry...” You shook your head wiping your face.

“No Jeongin you don’t understand... I don’t know how or what is going on but... I can see colors!” His face scrunched in confusion.

“I thought you’re color blind.” You shook your head smiling ear to ear.

“I am! I was! I don’t know! Every time I’ve been near you more colors have slowly appeared and just now when you kissed me... I can see it all! I can see color!” You threw your arms around his neck and kissed him again. Jeongin wrapped his arms around you, tilted his head and deepened the kiss, taking your breath away.

“Will you go to dinner with me tonight?” Jeongin asked with his forehead resting against yours and you nodded.

“Yes, yes...” You kissed him again and then looked down at your paint splattered overalls.

“Uh... let me run home to get cleaned up and changed?” Jeongin shook his head smiling so big his eyes almost disappeared entirely.

“Text me your address when you’re almost ready and I’ll pick you up.” You were grinning like a fool, you kissed him again three pecks and started backing up towards the door.

“Lock up for me please!” He nodded and you dashed out the door to go get ready as quickly as possible. When you ran into the house you almost ran your dad over.

“Woah woah there speed racer where’s the fire?” You were an idiot. Only just then did you think to tell your dad, everything happened so fast.

“Dad!” He smiled happy to see you so excited about something.

“I can see colors!” He stood up straight and looked at you crazy.

“What?” He asked like he knew you were pulling his leg.

“Dad I swear to god, every time I've seen Jeongin, after I would start seeing certain colors, then he kissed me today and it’s not black and white anymore dad I can actually see colors!” You thought your dad’s reaction would be excitement, hugging you, maybe crying. His face scrunched up.

“He kissed you?” What a dad thing to do, miss the whole point and zero in on that part.

“Yes dad he kissed me.” You rolled your eyes. If at all possible your dad started dadding even more.

“Well I haven’t even met this boy and he’s kissing you?” You shook your head laughing.

“Dad! I told you I can see colors and you’re worried about a boy kissing me?” He shrugged, pouting a little.

“I’m happy but I just would like to know this young man’s intentions.” You hugged your dad.

“Well you’ll get to meet him tonight, he’s picking me up for dinner in a bit.” You started running up the stairs towards your room.

“I have to get ready!” Your door slammed shut behind you and your dad finally let the smile creep onto his face that he’d been holding back. It sounded to him like you’d found your soulmate. It was instant like that for him and your mom too. One touch and they knew. Your dad still missed her every single day, he always would.

Surprisingly you were able to get dressed quickly and you cleaned up nice. A nice black little dress, your hair pulled up and actually paint and spackle free, a little bit of eyeliner and mascara. You noticed a pretty red lipstick that popped out at you and chose that for a final touch. When you walked down your dad was sitting in the living room with Jeongin who looked as nervous as the first time he’d talked to you.

“Dad?” He smiled innocently.

“Yes pumpkin?” You pinched his arm.

“Stop scaring him.” Your dad feigned pain and laughed. He leaned down and kissed your cheek.

“Have fun sweetie.” You smiled and motioned to Jeongin for you to leave. He stood up quickly and walked over by you, his hand resting at the small of your back instinctively.

“It was very nice meeting you sir. I promise I’ll keep her safe.” Your dad could feel it when he’d met Jeongin too, whatever pull there was between you was strong. Your dad knew Jeongin meant it from the bottom of his heart when he said he’d keep you safe.

“I know you will.” Your dad smiled and headed up to his study to put his nose to his screen, he had a novel to finish. Jeongin was an absolute gentleman the whole night, opening your car door, helping you in and out, helping with your chair. You had gotten cold on the small walk you took and Jeongin put his jacket over your shoulders. You burrowed in and it smelled like his cologne and something that was just him, you couldn’t place it but it made you feel warm all over and your body erupted in goosebumps. Jeongin had been holding your hand and noticed.

“You’re cold, let’s get back to the car.” You nodded and he led you back up the walkway towards his car. He opened the door again and helped you in before closing it behind you. He ran around and got in shutting his door then looking and smiling at you. You wrapped your arms around Jeongin’s shoulders and kissed him deeply. Your lips parted, tongue teasing. He held your face as you made out in the car for a while. When you pulled away you gripped at the collar of his shirt, panting and biting your lips.

“This is where I’d invite you to spend the night but I live with my dad.” You huffed out a breathless laugh and Jeongin’s heart raced faster, spend the night?!

“Uh... I live alone, you could come back to mine...” You smiled and kissed him again.

“I’d love to.” You sat down in your seat and buckled your belt. Jeongin’s smile was so big his dimples looked like they never ended. He started the car and headed towards his apartment. If you could call the penthouse of a building his grandpa owns an apartment. When you were with Jeongin you never thought about the fact that he was a Yang and came from money. He was just Jeongin to you, shy, sweet. The apartment reminded you quickly.

“Holy shit! You live here alone?!” He walked towards you and pulled you close.

“Not forever hopefully.” He said cocking an eyebrow at you and you laughed. You started to laugh but then Jeongin’s lips were on your skin moving down your neck and your laughs turned into breathy pants. He claimed your lips again and you started to unbutton his shirt before running your hands up his firm chest and pushing it off his shoulders to the ground. You started to kiss across his shoulder, gently grazing your teeth against his skin and he shuddered. You pulled away and turned, your back facing Jeongin now.

“Will you unzip me?” He walked up behind you, his face buried in your neck as his hands worked your zipper down. Your dress fell off you and when you turned around you were completely naked and Jeongin’s brain checked out.

“Fuck you’re a work of art!” You wrapped your arms around his strong shoulders and kissed him.

“Take me to bed Jeongin, please.” His lips couldn’t be bothered to leave yours as he led you to his bedroom. You worked at his belt pulling it open and off before tossing it and starting on his button and fly. When his pants were loose, they fell and he stepped out of them as he continued leading you towards his big soft bed. When the back of your legs touched the bed you crawled back on to it. Jeongin confidently dropped his boxers and rightfully so. He was not... lacking. He crawled on top of you hooking his arm under your knee and pulling it up, spreading your legs open for him. Before he pushed into you he looked into your eyes. He looked like he was watching the film of your future in them.

“I think you’re my soulmate.” When he said it is when it clicked. Of course. You nodded, your eyes tearing up. When he sank into you, you moaned closing your eyes, a tear slipping down. Jeongin let go of your leg and wrapped it around his waist as he pulled out and pushed into you deep again. He leaned over kissing the skin your tear had rolled down. You opened your eyes and were in awe at the sight of him above you. His dark hair, narrow eyes, his strong chiseled frame held up over you so he didn’t crush you under him. You pulled him closer wrapping your arms and legs around him, wanting him to crush you.

“Faster please...” You whispered and Jeongin’s body moved faster on top of yours. You could feel the pressure building already. You gripped his hair and kissed him as your bodies moved together his cock constantly moving against that place inside you that made your toes numb.

“God yes! Right there!” He fucked you harder and you could feel your climax making the hundred-yard dash towards the finish line.

“I... I... I’m g-gonna cum! FUCK! Don't stop!” Jeongin’s lips overtook your moans as he rolled his hips into you. You didn’t know how he kept doing it but every time you were with Jeongin he showed you new colors. The colors exploding behind your eyes as you came were moving and alive. Jeongin didn’t slow down. No, he sat up as your hands still gripped and clung to his shoulders and fucked you faster with the intention of reaching his own climax and prolonging yours.

“Yesyesyesyes oh it feels so good Jeongin! Mmmm...” a few beads of sweat dripped down the hard lines of his torso as he felt his orgasm approaching.

“Oh go-fuck! I’m gonna cum jagiya!” You moaned and nodded unable to form words anymore. Jeongin pulled out and came on your tummy and pussy. He stroked his cock as he coated you in his cum. He trembled as he worked every drop out onto you. He sat back on his legs, his head towards the ceiling, his eyes closed as he caught his breath and came down. You laid there a million bumble bees buzzing inside you. You ran two fingers through his cum and sucked on them. He looked down at you sweaty and laughing from the euphoria. Once Jeongin was able to function again he ran and got a washcloth to clean you up with. When you were all clean he crawled back into bed and pulled you close, your head resting on his chest, listening to his slow steady heartbeat.

Later, after some digging, you found out you were in fact soulmates. Jeongin never knew why he was so driven to collect your art but it had felt like each piece he got was a piece of you, he felt closer to you with each one. Then he finally searched for you to ask you to paint something and well the rest played out. Jeongin took all the artwork he purchased and opened a gallery for you. You continued painting and even finished painting what you’d been working on the night of your mom’s accident. It was put up in the gallery as a memorial to her. Your dad finished his novel, you found the love of your life and your love for painting again. Your life was no longer a theory of color, it was a spectrum, a prism. It was all the colors your mother had dreamed for you and more.

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

@acciocriativity @caroline-ds-world @chansynie @ughbehavior @jquellen27 @jisuperboard @fixation-dump @lachinitaaaaa @rinrinndou @bangchans-angel @laylasbunbunny @owo-manii-uwu @armystay89 @b00dyguts @purplenimsicle @caticorn61 @lauraneuuh @channieandhisgoonsquad @minnysproutgriffinteddy @svintsandghosts @the-sweetest-rose @alice630 @3rachasninja @m0ri-apeuda @eastleighsblog @linoification @mlink64 @smally97 @fun-fanfics @chansducky10 @starfire21 @cessixja @siewoon @berryberrytan @binnies-minsung-fanclub @lethallyprotected

#stray kids smut #skz smut #yang jeongin smut #jeongin smut #skz317cb97 #cal 🖤#skz317cb97 soulmate au series

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rozugold · 3 months

Text

Ok ramble time

Ok imagine you’re Tubbo. You just got your distant brother figure and your bestie off that damn mountain, though not in the most ideal way (I will make those comics eventuallyyy)

But that’s beside the point. You saved your best friend! You did something right for once! Except sike! your best friend hates you now, and you kind of hate him too (you let him know as much) then you guys stop talking. Which is fine, i mean, it’s not like he was your entire world.

You return to Snowchester! It’s a ghost town, obviously. There’s a memorial of you, decorated with fresh flowers and dusty knick knacks. The flowers are from Ranboo, he’s pretty sweet. He’s also been the one to upkeep your town while you were gone. You hang out with them a lot, they’re the only one who sticks around these days. They’re pretty sweet.

You try to go back to doing the things you did before you died. There’s those nukes you never finished making, so you work on them. And you work on them. And you work on them. And you get nothing done. Your brain feels scattered and far away, it’s impossible to focus. So you give it a break, you can afford to. It’s pretty safe these days with Dream gone, you know because you keep tabs on everyone on the server. There’s some strange things going on here and there but nothing too concerning. You hang out with Ranboo more.

Ah fuck, you two find a baby. It’s a piglin, infected but not fully zombified as it has enough thought to run up to you two for help. So you take it back to snowchester and give it potions to stop the infection. Ranboo is worried it won’t work, you tell him it probably won’t. But you reassure him that if it doesn’t, you’ll take it back to the nether to let it “live” out the rest of it’s days. (Do zombies live?) Ranboo spends the night in your attic with the piglin. He’s pretty sweet. Regardless you tell him to not keep his hopes up too high.

Next morning, it worked! You “dub thee Michael!” Ranboo is relieved. There’s a kid living in your house now.

There’s a kid living in his house now. The timeline becomes unclear at this point since I’m still figuring it out. But now that Michael is in the picture Tubbo starts getting worried. He realizes he has no way of protecting him. Maybe the syndicate come visit Snowchester and that shocks him into thinking about the nukes again. And so Tubbo starts throwing himself into projects again. And it starts getting ✨bad ✨

Honestly, It’s been really fun figuring out how Tubbo deteriorates because everything is so internal with him compared to Tommy. It’s obvious with Tommy, you could see him visibly fall apart (think his exile skins, he stops feeding himself, he doesn’t care when he takes damage) But with Tubbo it isn’t so obvious, atleast not right away. Sure his eye bags get darker and he stares off into space for a little too long. But he still looks put together. (Habitable maybe. Or a learned skill.)

Maybe he eventually gets the nukes working but they’re not as successful as he wanted them to be and that guts him. He takes it as another failure. What if he’s just cursed? Is everything he cares about forever doomed to feel like holding water in his hands? What is wrong with him?

I’m gonna share a song and explain this next part using its lyrics because I’m so ILL over it, it’s the most di!tubbo song ever. Throw on …Well, better than the alternative by Will Wood 👍

Tubbo’s feelings towards Michael is complicated… He absolutely loves him to death but he’s really apprehensive about being a dad. He has this fear that he’s going to somehow corrupt Michael and or fail to keep him safe. So he ends up becoming emotionally distant from him and at his worst he gives him up completely to Ranboo.

I think Ranboo and Tubbo get married as a joke at first. But Ranboo continues to love him so unconditionally and honestly and Tubbo catches a crush, which is absolute HELL for him at first sjdhdj. I imagine him being arospec so this crush is a completely new and surprising feeling and he doesn’t know how to handle it. So he doesn’t, and keeps playing it as a joke even as their relationship develops.

Also the repeat of “everybody’s up on everybody’s business” is very fitting for describing the server. There’s things to be developed here I just haven’t yet… I’m just thinking about the possibilities like the egg, the syndicate, las nevadas… hmmm

This song is begging to be made into an animatic because I can imagine Tubbo screaming at Tommy during this part. He was just trying to help the best way he could… yet things still end badly, and everyone ends up hurt… di!clingy oh di!clingy, they’re such a mess. A bitter, angry, grieving mess. Wait ok i wasn’t planning on writing grieving there but then my next thought was “who are they grieving?” EACH OTHER. THEY’RE GRIEVING EACH OTHER. o(-(

Ok that’s it. Phew that was a lot of writing. Here’s some drawings for your time

#distorted illusions #rozu thoughts #I’m so normal about my aus I swear

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teyamsatan · 1 year

Text

Illicit Affairs | Chapter I: Willow

Pairing: Neteyam x f!Human!Reader

Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of death and disease

WC: 3,4k words

A/N: Sooo.. I kinda did something. This is the first fanfic I have written that will actually see the light of day, and also the first piece of writing (outside of master's dissertations, papers, scientific essays etc) that I have done since probably high school, which is longer ago than I'd like to admit. Anyway, I have been hyperfixated on Avatar recently, ATWOW fully bringing back my love and obsession for Pandora that I have had since 2009. I adore the new movie and the Sully kids, but I have a special place in my heart for Neteyam, so here we go. Let me know what you guys think. I work full time as a PhD student, so I'll try my best to write in my spare time and hopefully I can get this done the way I truly want to. This story is also loosely inspired by the incredible @forever--darling and her "One of Us" Neteyam fanfic, which I adore and have probably memorised by now with the amount of times I have read it.

I'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night Rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife And if it was an open-shut case I never would've known from that look on your face Lost in your current like a priceless wine

“Wake up, Ace. It’s late already and there’s so much to do today, remember?” Norm’s voice pulled you out of a beautiful dream, one where you were flying on your chosen Ikran, high above the clouds, the worries…this lab. Albeit hard to swallow, you were almost relieved to be woken up, as feeding out-of-reach fantasies and dreams could lead to no good, anyhow.

“I’m up… Jesus, Norm.” You felt yourself rise from your warm and comfortable bed and the feeling of your bare feet touching the cold, hard floor of the living quarters of the lab made you swallow a curse.

“We left you some breakfast, get ready and meet us in the lab in 30, okay? We have the samples ready for you and you can run them after we’ve talked it through.”

“Aye, aye, captain.”

This was your life. You, among a few other people, were one of the only humans left on Pandora after the war took them back to Earth more than 17 years ago. Unlike the others, though, you were born here, on this foreign planet, the only home you’ve ever known. There was one more, a beautiful, feisty young man with a dark heritage, who liked to think that he is as much Pandoran as the actual natives. His name was Spider, and although you grew up together, there was not much you could say you had in common. He was wild and adventurous, has been his whole life; fully willing to immerse himself in the Na’vi ways and almost demanding a place amongst the people.

Although you have your doubts, he says the people were accepting of him, as he managed to befriend the most important family of the nearby Omatikaya tribe: the Sullys. Jake Sully, a former dream walker, rose to prominence as Toruk Makto, rider of Last Shadow. He brought multiple clans together to defeat the Sky People in their brutal quest for wealth and colonisation. He succeeded, after which he became Olo’yektan, leader of the Omatikaya. He is now fully Na’vi, after completing a consciousness transfer that allowed him to leave behind his human form and forever live as one of the people. It had never been done before. Jake was a great man, who became a mediator between the Na’vi and the humans left on Earth. His children, Neteyam, Lo’ak, Kiri and Tuk, were brought up to know English and be accepting of everyone, regardless where they came from, as long as they had pure intentions and a strong heart. Spider was considered one of them. And, surprisingly, you were, too.

Your mum was a medic and researcher, brought here many moons ago to assist the Dr. Grace Augustin and her team in their quest to understand Pandora and its miraculous biology. Your dad, a former Master Sergeant in the US Air Force, joined the RDA for their military purposes. You never met your dad. He died when the Sky People attacked, although no one knows for sure which side he ended up taking. Your mum didn’t even know she was pregnant with you at the time, that’s how new everything was. Your mum loved your dad and she maintained her belief that he ended up doing the right thing in the end. You believed that as a child, but now are not so sure. Nevertheless, you still kept his dog tag, in a drawer at the bottom of your desk, a reminder of where you come from and what mistakes not to repeat.

Your mum died where you were 10. It was the worst day of your life. The cancer, which slowly spread in the beginning, overtook her being one faithful day, which you will never be able to erase from your memory. There is no chemotherapy, no radiation therapy, no drugs that could have prevented this, not here, not on Pandora. Your mum made a decision to remain on this planet she loved more than her own and it eventually killed her. She had no regrets, she said. She was happy to have lived and loved and died here, among Eywa. The Na’vi loved her. She was good friends and a mentor to Neytiri and Jake, both of whom agreed to give her a Na’vi send off. You were there that day, one of the few times you had visited the Home Tree. You remember the pouring rain, falling so hard it washed away the tears spilling from your eye almost as soon as they emerged. You remember Lo’ak and Kiri, your beautiful friends that have always been there for you, mourning with you. Your mum was their favourite aunt. She introduced them to music and films, and showed all of you her favourite books and painters and made sure you all understood that humans, despite their many flaws, have beauty and love and good in them, that no matter what, will prevail. “It will prevail because of you. Because you will carry it along and share it. You will revel in the beauty and fight to bring it back because what better way is there to live?”

You finished breakfast quickly, some dry toast with some fruit Kiri brought you the last time she visited and made your way back to the lab. You found Norm and Max, alongside two other human scientists, Tim and Claire, sitting on chairs next to the lab benches, discussing plans for the week.

“There she is, the brightest of us all.” You smirked at the compliment, raising your eyebrows in amusement and sitting down next to Claire.

“You’ve done great work last week, Ace The ELISAs show promise that Relensa might have some effect against this type of Pandora virus. I need you to now repeat it with the samples we’ve provided and also include a different type of positive control to the experiment, if possible.”

“Will do. How about a combination therapy? I know Relensa is not the only type of anti-viral therapy we have available. Amantidin, maybe? We have to go at this from all angles, you know?”

“Our Amantidin reserve is running severely short, but give it a try. Try a dose-response? Maybe 100 nano molars to 1 micro molar? Try 1milimolar as a positive control?”

This was your life. Unlike Spider, you avoided the clan. You did not want to be the walking reminder of everything they’ve lost. You were happy to sit back and dedicate your life to helping from the shadows. Your mum was a medic and a researcher, one of the brightest in the world. She wrote the book on Na’vi anatomy and physiology, she wanted to understand the people and hopefully help them mitigate losses brought by disease. You continued that work. Although young, you learned everything there was to learn. Not like you had anything else to do. You worked as a scientist and a nurse and a doctor if needs be. You patched humans up, stitched their wounds, ran experiments on Pandora pathogens and tried to find a cure against viral and bacterial diseases that plagued the Na’vi. You spent your life in the lab, and in the adjacent hub, learning, working out and playing the guitar and piano your mum taught you when you were really young. You couldn’t say you loved it, loved being here all the time, but you were content knowing you were, in your own way, making up for your species’ past mistakes.

Around lunchtime, you heard commotion from the entryway. A very familiar voice reverberated through the hallways. Your lips raised in a soft smile. Lo’ak.

Removing your lab coat, goggles and gloves, you made your way towards the origin of the sound. The tall, much-taller-than-you young man picked up a breathing mask from the designated shelf and waved at you with unwavering enthusiasm. You loved this boy. Your brother, for all intents and purposes, your partner-in-crime for all time. He loved you, too, you knew that, and you thought in a different life, in a different universe, you were soulmates, braving life’s tough storms together.

“Brought you lunch, angel.” Your nickname for you made you roll your eyes. You hated it, but the more you hated it, the more he used it so you remained silent. “I thought you could use a break from the stale excuse you guys call food around here.”

Lo’ak spoke English with you most of the time. He took to your parents’ (and his dad’s) culture the most out of all the kids. You spent a lot of your childhood together, hunched around a computer with old reruns of shows your mum loved in her youth, shows and movies that were way before even her time. She said she loved seeing what Earth looked like before humans killed their mother. Shows like Gilmore Girls, Friends and Modern Family were some of her favourites. You devoured them as a child, and Lo’ak did so too, with you. You drove her crazy as children, and drove Norm and Max crazy as teenagers, both trying to understand references and sayings, buildings and activities, games and idiosyncrasies. The Earth you grew up watching and reading up was beautiful, a star in the night sky you will never be able to touch.

Lo’ak made his way to the dining room of the hub, and lay several carefully-packed items on the table. Fresh teylu, cooked over fire and Pandora vegetables, all full of colour and flavour, all much better than anything that could come out of this place. You realise that you are starving as soon as you lay your eyes on them. Before you even sat down, you dug your fingers in and quickly ate some teylu, groaning at the delicious sweet meaty flavour. It was your favourite, and Lo’ak knew. He laughed at your apparent desperation and motioned for you to sit down. You obliged, and you both sat in silence for a while, just enjoying each other’s company and the food he provided.

“How’s training going? I haven’t seen you in a few days.”

“I die a little bit inside every time you make me remember I spend my days training like a little robot. It’s going fine. Tiring, you know? My dad is fully back in his Marine ways. He knows it’s been enough time that the humans are bound to return sooner or later. He says they’d never leave this world, and all its untapped riches alone without a fight. So it’s a lot of military training… if we walk like them, talk like them and fight like them, it might bring us some sort of advantage, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. I know it’s a pain, but he’s only doing this to protect you guys. He’s right. The humans are bound to return one day and when they do, we have to be prepared.” He doesn’t know this, but you have also been training, learning about guns, going through your dad’s old manuals and whatever else the RDA has left behind that could possibly be of use. You use the guns that are in the hub to learn how to aim, shoot, strip field, reload and clean the weapons, so you too can be prepared when the time comes. You might be stuck in a weak human body, but you will not be weak.

“Neteyam’s driving me nuts. He used to be fun, remember that? He’s such a killjoy, it’s hard to stomach being around him anymore. He’s always giving out orders, always making sure everything is in order and perfect, like him. He’s been training like crazy, and sticking to my dad like he’s some sort of fungus you can’t get rid of. Drives me crazy.”

“Hey, don’t talk about your brother like that. There’s a line, Lo’ak. Neteyam only wants the best for you guys, and he’s the oldest. He has to carry the burden of being the responsible one while you guy cause mischief all the time.”

Neteyam, Jake and Neytiri’s oldest, is more Na’vi than all the other children combined, in both looks and personality. Whilst the two middle children, Lo’ak and Kiri have five fingers, eyebrows and a more human appearance, Neteyam is all Neytiri. He’s tall and lean and seems like he was born with a bow in hand. A true warrior, you always found him a tad intimidating. Just like his mum, he has his apprehensions about humans and avatars, and although he used to come to the hub quite often when he was younger, mostly to keep an eye on his siblings, the visits have become a rarity as of recent times.

You wonder how the young man changed in the time you haven’t seen him. You used to be close as children, or at least that’s what you thought. Whereas Spider took to Lo’ak and Kiri, their mischievous personalities a good match for each other, you took to the oldest Sully boy. He was quiet and thoughtful, and he used to look at you like a puzzle he was trying to solve, but couldn’t. He used to sit in the back as you used to play piano, and his gaze on you used to make your skin blush and your heart race. You tried not to think about the pang of hurt that rose in your chest as you remembered that he essentially abandoned you, without so much as a farewell.

“Earth to Y/N, are you still there?” Lo’ak interrupted your train of thought and you were half grateful that you didn’t have to think about Neteyam anymore.

“Sorry. You were saying?”

“I was saying you’re right, I know I should be more understanding, I am happy I don’t have to be the one to carry all of responsibility, but it’s hard not to hold a grudge when it seems my brother was abducted by aliens and replaced with a weird, no-fun replica of himself.”

You groaned at the young Sully’s ongoing verbal attacks, but said no more. Whatever was going on between the two Sully boys was, at the end of the day, none of your business.

“Anyway…” Lo’ak started, a mischievous grin appearing on his beautiful face, “I know something you don’t.”

“Mmm, what is that?”

“I’m not telling you, but let’s just say I think it will make you very happy.”

“Well that’s just cruel. You know I hate surprises.”

After lunch, Lo’ak joined you in the recreation hub, where you kept a guitar and the piano that the humans left behind. You didn’t feel like going back to work just yet. You sat down on the cold floor and picked up your copy of Pride and Prejudice, your mum’s favourite book. The book was coming apart at the seams, worn down from all the times you have held it in your hands, as if gripping it tighter would bring her back to you, even if for only a split second. You sighed as you passed the book to Lo’ak and motioned for him to put it on the table next to him.

“Sing for me, will you? I missed hearing your voice.”

You smiled up at him. Nobody knew you like Lo’ak did. Nobody accepted you the way Lo’ak did. Both of you felt out of place in this world, like you didn’t quite belong anywhere. He has spent many an hour confessing how alone he’s felt all his life. You’d like to think you helped. You picked up your guitar and played a familiar song, one you knew he loved.

“Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind , as if you were a mythical thing

Like you were a trophy or a champion ring, and there was one prize I'd cheat to win

The more that you say, the less I know

Wherever you stray, I follow

I'm begging for you to take my hand, wreck my plans

That's my man”

You sat like this for hours, laughing and playing and singing. You tried to teach him a couple of chords on the guitar, which looked puny in his massive hands. With a loud thud, the open to the recreation centre swung open, making both of your heads turn in shock.

“Lo’ak, what the fuck?”

The harsh tone came from a man, a man you barely recognised anymore. Tall and muscular, he was not the same Neteyam you last saw. He was adorning a carefully crafted neck piece that matched his hunter’s chest piece and the knife holder he kept by his hips. You took a second to adjust to the man in front of you, that you haven’t seen in so long, that will always have a special place in your heart. Your gaze eventually fell on his face, which, like the rest of him, matured so much in all that time apart. He was beautiful. His hair was freshly braided and you couldn’t help but stare at the beaded strands that framed his face. As much as his body and face changed, they didn’t hold a candle to his eyes. The big yellow orbs that always looked at you curiously and intently were now focused on Lo’ak with rage flashed across them.

“You were supposed to meet me at the Home Tree a fucking hour ago, Lo’ak. Dad asked you to join the hunting party and pull your weight for once, remember that? Are you physically unable to do anything that is ever asked of you?”

He is yet to even spare a glance in your direction. You felt your blood pressure rising at the oldest Sully, but you pushed it down to look at Lo’ak, who was staring daggers at his older brother. As he was opening his mouth to undoubtedly say something that would get him in even more trouble than he was already in, you cut him off.

“It’s my fault.” You say in Na’vi. You doubted Neteyam was in the mood for English, so as to not escalate the tensions further, you opted for your semi-decent Na’vi. “I needed his help with some samples Norm got for me that I couldn’t identify. I’m done now, though. Sorry for taking him from his duties.”

His eyes finally snapped from Lo’ak and laded on your frame. You saw his lips parting in confusion and then settle in a firm line. His eyes scanned your body from head to toe. You changed. A lot. Your hair was now close to reaching your narrow waist, which he hated himself for noticing. You were wearing what the humans called a “top”, that was cut above your abdomen and had the word “Stanford” written across it. He’s sure he’s seen it before, although he couldn’t place where. You were wearing bottoms, short and blue, with cuts in them, which Neteyam didn’t get. Why are your clothes ripped? It’s not like you fought some animal in the wild, you never got out. He couldn’t help noticing how lean you had become, so lean, in fact, he could trace your muscles with precision, something he is rarely able to do with humans. Your species was puny and weak, which is why they needed avatars and exo-suits to survive on Pandora. Realizing he was staring, his eyes moved from you back to Lo’ak, and motioned for him to get up. Although he huffed and puffed, Lo’ak obliged without saying a word. He turned around before exiting the room, giving you one last exasperated look. You winked at him and clicked your tongue in the direction of the forest, a small smile on your face. This skxawng.

“Hey, you.” You called after Neteyam in English, as soon as Lo’ak disappeared from your line of view. You don’t know what you expected, but you had to try. He turned around and his eyes met yours. It was like looking at a stranger.

“I really have to go, Y/N.” He said, with a deep voice and slight accent, and his eyes fell on the floor as soon as he noticed the look of hurt that crossed your face.

“Fine, go.” You said, quickly composing yourself. You refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing he can hurt your feelings. You turned around, and busied yourself cleaning up, not sparing a second look in his direction. His gaze shifted back to your frame, and with a sigh, he made his way out of the lab and your life, once more.

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