#I really hope to have this to y'all by friday because it's SO FUN so far

[jonathanbyersphd]

Wedding AU chapter 1 summary

Will: Oh no he's hot Nancy: *freaking out about the circus her wedding has become* Jonathan: What if, and hear me out, we get the boys back together Mike: Oh no he's hot.

[reidrum]

all yours if you want me | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader

a/n: i think i really like this but if i proofread it one more time im gonna hate it so im just putting it out now lol. this is the full version of the sneak peak i posted last week woohoo ! also this is my first time writing smut so im sorry if it sucks but i hope y'all like it <3

summary: bau's got their first day off in weeks, and you're heading straight to the club to have some fun, you just didn't expect your coworker/crush to also be there while you're trying to forget him.

cw: 18+ minors pls dni, smut, p in v (dont be silly wrap ur willy), munch!spence, lowkey softdom!spence, suggestive dancing in public spaces, minor insecure reader, reader is afab and wears a dress and heels

wc: 4.6k

pls let me know if i forgot anything and let me know your thoughts pleaseee xx

it was the first friday night off you and any of the team members of the bau had in a long time, and you all were determined to spend it well. jj and hotch immediately went home to their families, penelope and emily decided they were going home to get some well needed rest, rossi went to a cigar club, not really sure what derek and spencer ended up doing, but you knew what you were doing tonight.

you’d had a long standing invitation from one of your college friends for a club night, and at first you’d decline because you’d get swept away on a case, and because you were hopelessly pining after your hot nerdy coworker dr. spencer reid.

spencer was smart in many ways, three PhDs, countless published papers, not to mention that eidetic memory of his. there was one thing that spencer was just fucking dumb at, and it was your shameless flirting at him.

like it annoyed you how clueless he was. you’d bring him coffee in the mornings with hearts drawn on it, fall asleep on his shoulder on the jet rides back, even complimenting his outfit or looks which made him flustered, but still nothing. your harbored crush seemed to stay just that, a crush. and while you’d hope he would get the hint he just hasn’t.

so you pull out your phone to text your friend. 

“barry’s at 9?”

“oh my god FINALLY. i’m there i'll pick you up at 8:30.”

you grin to yourself, this was good. you needed to get out and unwind for once.

you drive home quickly to hop in the shower before your friend comes to get you. throwing on a silk slip dress as your outfit of choice, you slipped your heels on and met your friend in the car.

walking into the club, you’re met with the thumping bass of the music playing and the staunch smell of alcohol, sweat, and sex.

it made you think about the last time you got laid, which was a really long time ago. and honestly you wanted to sleep with spencer so bad you hadn’t been making advances elsewhere. but that was going to change tonight, you were determined to have good slutty fun, and hopefully get laid.

your friend grabbed your hand and beelined to the bar, ordering two tequila shots each. once you downed them you moved to the dance floor and started preying for a target. as you’re scanning the room, you notice a familiar looking mop of brown hair standing next to bald headed man. a combo you knew all too well.

-

derek morgan was a player. and before he’s a player, he’s a damn good friend. which was his reasoning for dragging spencer out of his apartment to come out to the club and have fun.

“but i can have fun at home by myself morgan.”

“kid, you need to let loose once in a while. you are young, i’m just helping you take advantage of it.”

-

so now spencer’s at the club (a sentence he still struggles to believe) wearing trousers and navy button down shirt to which morgan had popped the top buttons open because ‘it gives the ladies a sneak peek’. he just rolled his eyes and went with it. he’s nursing a shirley temple at the bar, perusing the environment when he comes across a pair of eyes he knows like the back of his hand.

when you recognize the amber eyes you couldn’t believe your luck. of course, on the one night you’d decided to explore other options he shows up in the least expected place for him to be. so much for getting over him, you think. shyly raising your hand to wave, spencer returns the gesture. morgan takes note, “who are you waving t- oh, pretty girl is here huh pretty boy?” he nudges him.

a blush raises on his face. spencer thought you were attractive, like really attractive. you were a great addition to the bau and he admired your work ethic a lot, the day you walked into the bullpen wearing a fitted pantsuit had his own pants growing real tight. he still remembers when you introduced yourself and he couldn’t even get up without exposing himself. you thankfully didn’t think it was weird, and spencer was relieved when it was finally time to go home. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t have nights where he wished you were the one finishing him off and not his rough hands. he didn’t think you’d like someone like him, and took all of your ‘advances’ as morgan calls them, as acts of kindness.

morgan laughs as he watches spencer’s iq deteriorate to below 50 staring at you, “do you what you gotta do man. but you better be going home with someone tonight okay?”

spencer nods and nurses his drink a bit and looks back to morgan to realize he’s already off dancing with some girls in the corner. damn.

after your distanced encounter with spencer, you decide it’s time to move on and have some fun on your own. you couldn’t be hung up on him anymore, at least not tonight. tonight was for bad decisions.

good thing bad decision walked up to you asking to dance, whatshisname leads you to the dance floor and puts his hands on your hips, swaying to the beats of t-pain and pitbull.

you didn’t know, but spencer was watching every move you made. he watched you get led to the dance floor, the way he placed his hands right on your ass and squeezed, and how he turned you around so you were dancing on his front with your back. he gripped his glass so tight the bartender had to tell him he’d have to pay if it breaks.

he gets it, you’re attractive. this is the kind of thing that happens to people who look like you. who wouldn’t want you? but then he watched it happen a second time. and a third. and a fourth and fifth, till he just stopped counting at nine for his sanity.

spencer was not used to the green monster taking over him, but oh god was he fucking seething with jealousy.

you realized spencer was watching you by whatshisname number five. he hadn’t moved from his spot and he was constantly staring in your direction. deciding to do a little experiment, you played up your dancing a lot more, acting more flirtatious, dragging the guy’s hands further down, and letting out open mouthed moans that you knew spencer couldn’t hear but could definitely see. you watched as his jaw shifted and his knuckles turned white as you danced with each guy, realizing the growing effect that you now had on him.

by whatshisname number nine, you casted your hook. making sure to face spencer and meet his eyes, you watched as they darkened when he realized you were looking right at him. spencer might’ve brushed it off as a coincidence, but then you winked at him. and he realized what you were doing—you were taunting him, and fuck was it working for him. the bulge in his pants grew uncomfortable that he had to stand up to not draw so much attention to it under the bar lights. 

you watched him stand up and adjust himself and you threw your line. when he looked back up at you, you made a come here motion with your index finger and a bite of your lip. spencer’s eyes darkened impossibly more, he paid for his tab and strode over to you.

sinker.

he pulled you from the man behind you, who muttered a ‘what the fuck’ and moved away. spencer pulled you flush to his chest and with a low voice in the crest of your ear he whispered, “what do you think you’re doing?”

“i don’t think i know what you’re talking about dr. reid, could you explain it to me?”

spencer tightens his hold on you and ghosts over your ear once more, “this is a dangerous game you’re playing, sweetheart.”

“a game you joined the second you walked over here.”

he looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and matched the small smirk on your lips. game on.

the song changed to something with a more sultry beat, and you used the opportunity to wrap your arms around his neck and let his hands guide your hips to the music. while he wasn’t much of a dancer, he could definitely keep a beat. it didn’t prove to be so difficult when your chest was pushing up on his own that he was just waiting for them to spill out. he realized he could feel your hardened nipples through your slip, the nubs rubbing friction through the fabric of their clothes. he moaned internally while he gripped your hips to pull you even closer. it was clear spencer seemed to be getting comfortable with moving your body and holding you close, but you couldn’t let that happen.

before the second chorus you turn around in his arms so your back is pressed up against his front, and you start dancing on him.

spencer’s taken by surprise, something you felt when his hands faltered the confident rhythm it kept up, and while he watched you dance just like this with all those guys it’s like his mind is blank now.

you recognize the song playing, collide by justine skye & tyga, and use the sultry beat to your advantage. you move your ass hard on his front, feeling his length pressed between your cheeks. you gesture for him to lean his head down and he lets out a low groan as you whisper in his ear, “all that for me?”.

a primal instinct starts to take over spencer’s being, and he grips your hips to meet his rutting from behind. spencer was desperate for any friction that could soothe the growing ache in his pants. you grinned as you felt take what he needed from you. it was quickly wiped off your face when you felt his hands inching dangerously close to where you really wanted him.  you place your hands on his with surprise and look at him, “what are you doing?”

“i don’t think i know what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he threw back at you, “but if there’s something you’d like me to do, i’m all ears.” spencer grazes his fingers under the hem of your dress, toying with the lace band of your panties and slipping his fingers below it to stroke your inner thighs.

fuck. he turned it on you so fast it almost gave you whiplash. the provocative dancing was something you could handle, hell everyone on that dance floor was doing the same thing as you both. what you weren’t sure you could handle was him about to touch you in a public space. but, your body betrayed you as it turned you on to another plane. you look up at him with lust filled eyes and let out a breathy moan of his name. spencer collapses internally and stands his ground, “if you want something, beg me.”

spencer thinks he’s won the upper hand, and he’s feeling so smug behind you. he still thinks he has the upper hand until you reach down and place his middle and index finger in your mouth, circling your tongue around the digits.

“touch me.” you moan out, releasing his fingers.

spencer is dumbfounded how he’s the one about to burst out his pants when he made you beg for him. it should make him feel embarrassed at how close he was, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. not when you in his arms pleading him to do something. you sounded so pretty, and who was he to deny a pretty thing like you?

his fingers continue their journey down, outlining the lace trim resting on your thighs. he hooks his fingers on the fabric to pull it aside and slips into you, going at an aching pace to gather the wetness and groaning out, “jesus, you’re so wet, was this all for me? you needed my attention that bad, baby?”

you whimper and grip his hand even tighter because you’re not sure if your legs are holding out any longer. it’s all so overwhelming—having his hands down your panties in the middle of the dance floor, the lewdity of the noises in your ear, the hard length pressing desperately on your ass. this is all you’ve ever wanted from him, to want you. and now it’s happening, and your brain can’t fire the neurons fast enough to process the moment. instead your body responded with your skin heating up with anticipation, heart beating out as much adrenaline to keep up. the daze is getting foggier by the second as he trails his fingers up and down your slit, spreading the wetness and circling your clit on the way up. and you think you’re about to get accustomed to the pace he’s set, when he delves between your folds and you moan out loud so abruptly that the nearby patrons looked around wondering where it came from.

you can feel spencer’s shit eating grin behind you as he moves his head down to leave love bites on your neck. if he can feel your bluff dissipating, he’s not saying anything. his fingers set a painfully slow rhythm, and you grind down trying to get any more friction to reach your peak. he’s hitting you in all the right spots that make you see the stars and beyond, leaning your head back on his chest as you barrel towards your climax. you feel yourself mere seconds away from reaching, and spencer suddenly pulls his fingers out, making you whine out in protest, “wh- what are you doing?”

spencer grabs your wrist and starts dragging you through the sweaty bodies surrounding you, tightening his grip with a small smirk as he passes a few of the guys you were dancing with earlier. suckers.

he pushes the doors open with a force and while the cool air is attempting to return your body to homeostasis, the anticipation of where he’s going overtakes you, “spence, where are we going wh-“ you cut off your sentence with a gasp as he handles you flush to the door of his car. then it’s just silence for a few moments. no loud bass or weird dudes, just the two of you. the only sound that can be heard are your breaths competing for prominence. you look up at him and focus on the details of his face illuminated by the moonlight, trying to read his expression. his honeyed eyes have fully darkened to a lustful hickory, and suddenly you felt like a gazelle being preyed on by a lion.

he reaches into his pocket and unlocks the car with a soft beep. it’s the focused eyes on you that drive you to open the door, but it’s the subtle silent nod of his head towards the car that makes you move inside waiting for him to join you. he climbs in after you, shutting the door and locking it.

spencer moves to the middle seat and allows his legs to spread open, he taps his thighs and faintly says, “come here.”

you shuffle closer and swing your legs over him, your dress rising up a little as you fully sit on his clothed crotch. and now you realize the corporeality of the moment. it’s like, really real now. all this time pining after the boy genius with no luck and now he’s got you in the backseat of his car and your panties crooked, waiting for you to move. the bravado you wore and so tightly held onto for a majority of the night comes crashing down like a shattered vase, and you’re not sure if you have any more in you to salvage the pieces. you may be a profiler, but try as you might you are not a mind reader, yet you so desperately want to know what he’s thinking. is it too much to ask what this means? will it overwhelm him to say you’ve dreamt about this moment for many nights, and how those dreams went on till the early morning when he’d stay and brush your hair back with a temple kiss. the whispers of sweet nothings sticking to you like honey as you got ready for the day. are these questions you even want to know the answer to?

you may not be a mind reader, but he is dr. spencer reid, who noticed your demeanor change after too long of a silence.

“hey,” he holds your chin delicately to your eyes, “it’s okay if you want to stop, i’m sorry for tak-“

it’s your turn to cut him off, “no! no i, i still want this, i just,” you falter.

“just what, baby?” he coos softly.

it makes tears well up in your eyes, you hope he can’t see them, “i’ve just wanted this for so long, and it’s probably embarrassing that i’m admitting this now of all times, but i don’t know if i can handle this meaning more to me than it does to you.” you confess quietly.

spencer listens to your admission and gingerly resecures his arm behind you, a position he thinks is starting to become second nature. he rubs soft shapes into the small of your back, “what makes you think that?”

“because i basically threw myself at you tonight, and it seems to be the first time you noticed me.” you say halfheartedly. 

“you think i don’t notice you?” he whispers, leaning in to leave soft kisses in the crook of your neck. spencer is dumbfounded, confused at how you reached such a conclusion. but as a man of science, he feels there’s only one way to prove himself. he breathes your name out, “can i show you how much i notice you? please?”

you nod, at least you could commit this moment to memory if it was all you’d have left of him. he presses his lips to yours for the first time that night, your breath faltering as he becomes more feverous with his attacks. slotting his tongue with yours, your hands move up to his silky hair to take purchase in. he lets out a groan as he pulls back from you, “i need to taste you.”

he guides your body to lean back on the center console, the only way his tall figure would be able to accommodate this position. your legs are still split on either side of his legs, using your hands to prop yourself up to watch his movements. he hooks his fingers on the sides of your panties and slowly slides them down, moaning at the way your slick causes resistance as he pulls them off your legs. wrapping his arms under your thighs to lift you up to face level, he places small kisses on your inner thighs as he makes his way to your core. he places a final kiss on your center before licking a long stripe up to your clit. moaning out wantonly, he continues his ministrations and kitten licks all over you, circling back up to your clit after each round.

“spence..” you whine out. he moves his focus to your clit, circling and sucking till you’re squirming in his arms so much has to grip your thighs. your hands are fussing through his hair, gripping and pulling to find something to ground you. spencer then slips his fingers into your core for the second time tonight, and you lose it.

he’s pumping his fingers in and out, that all you can hear is the squelching noises of your cunt. adding another one, you’re unable to stay still anymore, as if you were before.

“oh my fuck, spencer. i’m gonna cu-, cum. please don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.” you moan out filthy.

spencer unlatches his mouth for a moment, “come for me, baby.”

your orgasm crashes down on you like a wave breaking on the shore. it’s all consuming, leaving you shaking and breathless and he lifts his head from between your legs and you see his chin glistening with you in the moonlight. the sight itself is so pornographic, you can’t help but shuffle back onto his lap to crash your lips back to his, tasting yourself on his tongue. he tangles his hands in your hair as you move yours between you both, unzipping his trousers to palm him through his boxers.

he breakily moans in your ear as you slowly pull back the band to take him out. the sight takes you by surprise, you knew he was big, you felt it on your ass while you were dancing. but seeing how it compared to your hand had you bulging your eyes.

“you’re so big,” you whisper. how the hell was that fitting inside of you?

spencer the mind reader places his hand on top of yours as you lazily stroke him, “we’ll go slow, don’t worry.” he can’t help but feel his ego inflate to the skies, he can’t remember the last time he had someone look intimidated by him.

nodding faintly, you gather the spit in your mouth and let it fall between you both to land on the flushed pink tip. you spread it up and down his length, setting a slow pace that had him moaning expletives in your ear.

“oh-, ohhh, fuck baby. you’re so good at that holy shit,” he says trying to hold himself together. you give him a few more pumps before lifting your hips up to guide him inside you. you move his tip to your entrance, rubbing it teasingly before spencer places his hands on your sides to stabilize you, and slowly sink you down onto him.

the second his tip pushes past your folds, you both moan out in harmony. placing your hands on his shoulders you leverage yourself to sink down further inch by inch, until your core is flush with the base of his thighs.

spencer is a man of many words, maybe too many. but right now the only word he can remember is your name as he watched you take his length whole inch by inch slowly losing any restraint he had left. the pressure his cock had inside of you was heavenly. you’d never felt so full, and you could tell he was trying so hard to stay still as you adjusted above him.

when you bottom out spencer throws his head back against the seat, “oh that’s it, good girl,” you clenched around him. “you okay?”

you nod in response, ignoring the way the term of endearment sent flutters to your heart, and attempt an experimental rock of your hips, causing spencer’s head to whip up and meet your lust blown eyes with his own. he adjusts his hands on the sides of your thighs and starts helping you move up and down on his length, setting a brutally slow pace.

you rest your head and moan into the crook of his neck as he continues his movements, “spencer, please, more, i can take it.”

he still can’t believe what’s happening right now, all those days he spent thinking about you in the bullpen, at home, everywhere really, and here you were begging on top of him to fuck you good.

“you still think i don’t notice you?” he says into your ear, “i have dreamt about what you’d look like bouncing on my cock, and you are blowing any idea i had out of the water.”

you whimper as he continues, “and when i’m not thinking about ruining you, i am in awe at how you walk through life. you bring so much joy everywhere you go, it’s a blessing to be able to experience you.” he says through shaky breaths.

the praise goes straight to core, with some traveling to your heart again, and you’re not sure how much longer you can hold on before you unravel physically and emotionally.

his hands are guiding you up and down at a harder pace now, “so,” thrust. “you still think,” thrust, “i don’t notice you?” he thrusts into you once more and holds you down, making sure you’re looking directly at him, “it was never an option to brush past you, you are everything to me. i didn’t know how to show that without overwhelming you. i’m sorry.”

tears well up in your eyes again, spencer notices this time and presses a small kiss on your forehead. all your senses feel like they’re in overdrive, unable to comprehend anything right now. your skin feels like it’s on fire as he rolls your hips faster to meet his ruts.

“spence, i- i’m so close.” you whine desperately. 

he slips his hand between you both to rub your clit, “i know baby, i’ve got you. let go for me.”

his words were enough to break the dam, your second climax of the night hurling towards you. the white hot feeling overtook your whole body, shaking and clenching above him. your grip on him was threateningly vicious, probably leaving deep crescent marks in the nape of his shoulders. you wish the euphoria would last forever if it meant having spencer like this. as you came down from your high, the two of you were still moving together, slowly rocking your hips to meet each other. once you were grounded again, you pushed through the sensitivity in your core to rise up on his length, just barely leaving the tip in before you slid back down fast and hard, now focusing on spencer reaching his peak.

“oh jesus, fuck.” spencer moaned out brokenly.

“come on spence you can do it,” you taunted as you clenched down, “come inside me, make a mess of me please.” a rush of confidence flowed through as you whispered into his ear, and spencer held your hips to help you bounce faster on him.

spencer let out a loud groan as you felt the hot spurts coat your insides, he was leaving matching crescent marks on the sides of your hips as the ones on his shoulders, making sure all of him was left in you. feeling him soften inside, you remained on his lap with him sheathed in you. you both are breathing heavily, leaning back to hopefully give you both some relief from the sex filled air. looking around the car you realize that all the windows are fogged up and let out a tiny giggle.

“what’s so funny?” he looks up at you slightly amused and very out of breath.

“no it’s just, the windows are such a dead giveaway for what we just did in here.” 

“eh, i don’t really care what people think.”

“gasp, dr. reid wants to let the world know he has car sex with random girls?”

he leans in to bite your neck playfully, “random? did nothing i said during all that register for you?”

you yelp and attempt to play dumb, “actually i don’t remember a word, you might have to jog my memory. maybe even recreate the circumstances to help with cementing it. i read about situational memorization where certain scenarios are easily remembered when there’s a big event to anchor it to.”

he swears he could’ve melted on the spot at you explaining a concept you’d read about to him, “careful sweetheart, calling it a big event might inflate my ego a little too high.”

“i mean, i can tell it worked,” you tease as you feel him harden inside of you again, “so tell me genius, how many times does a scenario have to happen for me to remember the information?”

“i guess we’ll have to find out, don’t we?”

[number1jeonginstan]

Heyyy!!! I just wanted to ask if u could write this very interesting idea of mine. Chan making you roll a dice and what number you roll, is the amount of thrust you take. But you keep calling him daddy and he can't hold back anymore so he starts pounding u like a pup in the heat. NO PRESSURE totally fine if you don't feel comfortable writing this. But just thoughts. Have a nice day/night!💗

A/N: YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND HOW EXCITED I WAS TO WRITE THIS. Like I wanted to write it as soon as I got this, but I got really sick so writing has been on the back burner, but I hope I did your ask justice with my writing. ALSO, my mentions are still open y'all so....

wc: 1.2k (not enough in my opinion 😔)

warnings: 18+ only, minors do not interact, unprotected sex, afab!reader, reader is called slut, daddy kink (obvi), some fluff as well because I love fluff

It was the first day Chan had off in ages. It was the afternoon and you were snuggled up on his bed, laying on top of him, head on his chest watching a movie. “All I’m saying is Andrew Garfield is hot.” You said with a shrug, eating another piece of popcorn. Chan was above you rolling his eyes. 

“You think everyone is hot,” he said stealing a sip of your drink. You lift your head from his chest looking up at him, “You can’t possibly deny it, look at him.” 

“I never thought you had a thing for skinny white guys, maybe I should stop going to the gym?” before he could tease you even more you quickly shouted out a “No!” 

“If you stop going to the gym, it better be for yourself, you know I love you no matter what,” you said giving him a big hug. He kissed your forehead as you both fell back into a comfortable silence.

An hour had passed and you both finally finished the movie. You got up from the bed, stretching your body since you were both lying down on the bed. Chan was still on the bed, stretched out like a starfish. “What should we do next? Do you want to play a board game?” you asked trying to put all the dishes you guys ate from earlier away. 

“Yeah we can do that, I think it would be fun,” you said whilst pulling out Monopoly from the stack of board games you both had accumulated over the last two years of Friday game nights with the rest of the members. 

“If you get park place again, I will never talk to you again.” 

“Chan stop being such a baby,” you said while rolling your eyes. “You love it though,” he said whilst pouting, placing a kiss on your cheek. 

You both finally got into the groove of playing the game, giggling at each other throughout it. “Hey! You are cheating, you can’t steal money from the bank.” Chan said swatting your hand away from the pile of money lying on his bed. “Oh come on,” you groaned, “I purposely gave you Park Place this time.”

“What! I won that place fair and square.” he looked at you with a confused face. “You keep telling yourself that Channie,” you said patting his cheek. 

“Oh, you wanna play that game?” he said while dragging you on top of his lap messing up the game along the way. “I was about to win” you whined. “Were you, were you really?” he said while kissing your lips. 

“Yes!” you said while kissing him back. “If you want to play a game, I have a great one for us to play,” he said with his signature smirk. “Mhm, and what would that be?” 

“We still have this die,” he said while rolling it in his hands, “let’s have some fun with it.”

“What do you have in mind” you asked looking up to him, still on his lap. “Why don’t we play a game? You roll the dice two times, and I multiply whatever it is.”

“Okay?” you asked a bit confused. “Sweetheart, you didn’t let me finish. Whatever that number is, is the number of times I’ll thrust into you.”  He said with a coy smile, “Don’t you think that will be fun baby?” 

You hesitantly agreed, thinking that, with luck by your side, you would roll all 5’s and 6’s, but you were so wrong. 

“Please Channie, I just need you to fuck me” you pleaded. You were underneath him, his cock rutting in and out of you to whatever you rolled the dice to. “Please, I need you in me,” you whined. 

“But I’m already in you unless you want me to stop?” he said while slowly slipping out of you. “Wait!” you stopped him and he stilled in you. You quickly rolled the dice twice, not wanting him to stop. “You rolled three twice, so that means 9 thrusts doesn’t it? Should we make the best of it sweetheart?” he said whilst rubbing your clit. 

You just nodded, wanting to feel him inside of you. He slowly thrust inside of you, wanting you to feel every inch of his cock, every vein as your pussy clenched around him. “You are such a good girl, taking my cock so well.”

His words made you clench around him, moaning at the way he was hitting so deep inside of you. You could cum with just his cock inside of you, the stretch being so big that he had to always prep you so well, just to take it. But him fucking you so sensually and slowly was getting you nowhere. 

“I need more” you moaned, feeling him particularly deep inside of you. “Awe, is my cock not enough? Do you need to get fucked like a slut? I don’t think I can do that baby, you gotta take it like a good girl. Maybe roll higher next time and I can fuck you faster.” 

It was torture and he knew it, you were squirming underneath him. “Roll again,” he said while kissing your forehead and you did “6 and 6 this time sweetheart, guess I’m going a bit faster.” 

He began pounding into you and you couldn’t control yourself “Fuck daddy, it feels so good.” You didn’t mean to say that, you had never called him daddy before and you had no idea how he would react, before you could even apologize, he began pounding into you.

“Fuck baby, you like that? Do you need daddy to fuck you til you forget your own name?” you just moaned, he was fucking you so good your tongue was loling out to the side. “Come on baby, answer daddy. Do you like my cock fucking into you like the little slut you are?” 

“Yes daddy, so good daddy, I’m gonna cum” you said as he began circling your clit simultaneously. You couldn’t control yourself, he was pounding into you so well 

“Fuck baby, be a good girl and cum for me, cum on daddy’s cock okay. You can do that for daddy right baby?” you just nodded, your walls squeezing him tighter as he started thrusting inside of you harder. “Will be a good girl for daddy, gonna cum on his cock” you hiccuped as you finally felt that strand in your stomach snap. 

You were cumming all over his cock as he continued to rut inside of you. “Where do you want me to cum baby? Where do you want daddy to cum?” 

“Inside of me please” you whimpered and he started pounding into you. “Fuck want daddy’s cum don’t you baby? Want daddy to fill you up.” 

“Fuck” he groaned as he stilled inside of you painting your walls with his hot cum. He laid next to you, still inside. “Where did the daddy come from baby?” he asked kissing your forehead. “I have no idea, but I’m glad I did because I think that was the best orgasm I’ve ever had,” you said with a giggle.

[minisugakoobies]

Paradise | JJK - Thirteen

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: smut, neighbors to lovers (not quite friends but not quite strangers), slow burn, love triangle, Stripper!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: new pov 👀, grinding, fingering, oral sex (m + f receiving), hand job, shower fun, mentions of roleplaying, mentions of biting (always get consent!), a bit of exhibitionism, lots of teasing, texting dirty photos, dirty talk, deepthroating, cum eating, but also a lot of cuddling because Jungkook is pretty whipped y'all and so is reader, Jungkook has to deal with a nasty drunk customer, 2021 AMAs Jungkook is the wedding visual

Word Count: 9.5k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: That sexy man on stage - the one currently giving your friend the lap dance of her LIFE - is your super shy neighbor, Jeon Jungkook?!

A/N: Fuck, it’s been a while since I updated, huh? Sorry about that! I got busy with holiday fics, and then my life kinda fell apart for a while and writing was the last thing I had time for. And then I had a difficult time with this chapter because I’d decided the story was only going to be 15 chapters and I was trying too hard to wrap things up too quickly… so guess what? Paradise is not ending with chapter 15! I hope you’re still enjoying the story, because it’s gonna go on a bit longer. How long? I don’t know! We’ll find out together! 💕

Song lyrics are from "Notice Me" by SZA

Thanks to @minttangerines for taking a look at this one! Please don’t be a silent reader, I’d love to hear from you! Taglist is open. 💕

Previous Chapter ♦️ Paradise Masterlist ♦️ Next Chapter

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Alarm clocks are such a cruel invention. 

There’s little worse than a tiny machine whose only purpose is to violently jar you from peaceful sleep by means of unholy bleating and throw you directly into your day. Really, whoever invented the alarm clock had to be a sociopath.

These are the sleepy thoughts that run through Jungkook’s head as your alarm clock tears him from his sleep Friday morning. Eyes still closed, he feels you shifting beside him, and then there’s a slapping sound and the annoying beeping ceases. Your heavy sigh makes him smile. 

“You know, I’ve always hated your alarm, too,” he mumbles, remembering your confession about his alarm the other night. 

“It did not occur to me until this moment that you can hear that every day,” you admit, and he laughs, opening his eyes. 

He presses himself forward against your back, burying his face in the nape of your neck to breathe you in. He can smell the faded sweat from last night’s multiple rounds where it still clings to your soft skin. It’s insane to him, how everything about you is wonderful, down to even the smell of your sweat. He hears you sigh again, a happy sound that makes his heart beat faster, and you scoot closer, threading your fingers through his. 

“Mmmhmm,” Jungkook hums. “S’okay, I usually just fall back asleep. But I really hate it today, because it means you’re getting up, right?” Obviously you have to go to work. Or login or whatever it is you do with a work from home gig. He tightens his grip when you start to pull away, whining into your skin. “Noooo, don’t leave me.” 

“Kookie!” you huff amusedly. He gives up when you persist, twisting yourself onto your side so you can peer at him while he pouts. Your fingers pinch his bottom lip playfully as you eye him, an exuberant grin on your face, and he wants to roll you onto your back and cover your face in kisses until you’re breathless with laughter.

You sigh again. “Does anyone ever say ‘no’ to this face?” 

“Nope,” he lies gleefully, lips turning up in a smirk as your arms loop around his neck. “Don’t tell me you’re about to try. You can’t.” 

“Actually, I was about to tell you that I hit the snooze button, so you’ve got me for at least another five minutes.” Lightly, you kiss him. He follows your mouth when you pull away to speak, so that you end up breathing the words onto his lips. “Better make them count.” 

The delighted giggle you let out when he swiftly rolls you onto your back sends him to the moon. He brings himself back down to earth by covering your mouth and body with his own, his hands reaching for your thighs, prompting you to wrap your legs around him and keep him close. 

He feels you start to squirm against him and takes the hint, easily flipping the two of you over so that you’re on top. “Shit, jagi,” he hisses as you roll your hips, grinding your core against his. He can feel how wet you are through where your cunt drags against his naked cock. You’re always so wet for him. He’s definitely getting a big head about it. 

That damn alarm clock of yours goes off again, and you groan, sliding from Jungkook’s lap to reach for the machine. Jungkook remains tangled up in your sheets, one arm behind his head as you climb off the bed. 

“You, uh, you don’t have to get up now, if you don’t want to. I know it’s early for you. I don’t mind if you want to sleep a little more here.”

He watches as you hurriedly drape yourself in a big t-shirt before turning back to face him. You’re so cute like this, when you get shy in front of him, as if he hasn’t seen every inch of you by now. As if he doesn’t want to see every inch of you. There’s nothing you need to hide from him. 

But you seem a little more nervous than usual. Is it because he slept over? He hadn’t intended to, but after the third round last night, you’d fallen asleep on him yet again, this time literally, draped across him, with your head tucked against his neck, and he’d been too enamored to move you. Your soft breathing must’ve lulled him to sleep. 

The offer to let him stay and sleep in is sweet, but he’s wide awake now. “Nah, I’m up.” 

“Okay. Um, just take your time getting up, I guess.” 

Jungkook can’t help but appreciate how awkward you’re being right now. Makes him feel better about his own clumsiness with stuff like this. He always over thinks things when it comes to relationships. Not that this is a relationship. Unless it is, but only if that’s what you want, too. 

Shit. Prime example right there. 

You’re slowly backing towards the door. Jungkook’s not sure if that’s because you don’t want to leave him or because you’re still trying to keep him from seeing your naked ass under that shirt. Seriously, how are you so cute? 

“I’m gonna go shower.” 

He can’t help himself. “Want some company?” 

You bite your lip, contemplating, and he smirks. He’s not a betting man but he’s pretty sure he knows what your answer is going to be, so he rises from the bed, hard cock slapping against his stomach as he crosses the room. Once his arms are around you again, you sigh. “I’m gonna be late, aren’t I?”

Jungkook grins cheekily. “Depends on how you want it.” His hands roam over your backside, squeezing the soft flesh there. It’s an understatement to say he’s a fan of your ass. He drops a smack on one cheek and you let out a cross between a yelp and a laugh. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Jeon Jungkook.” 

Stealing your giggles away with a kiss, he shuffles the two of you towards your bathroom, only allowing you to break away long enough to turn on the water. Under the spray, he reclaims your mouth again with needy lips. An electric current runs through him every time you moan, and soon he has you pressing your palms into the tiled wall as he slides his fingers into you from behind.

Jungkook’s shy, but he’s not chaste. He’s never had trouble finding someone on the nights when he’s needed to lose himself in someone else. Especially once he started working at Paradise. At first, he’d tried to resist fucking his patrons. Didn’t want the lines to blur too much. But eventually, he caved, too easily flattered by the women throwing themselves at him - literally, some nights - too easily tempted by the pleasures they promised. 

He’d go home with them and then slip out in the morning, before they woke. Never wanting more than just a memory. He lived this way for the longest time. It was easy, especially for someone like him, someone who used his onstage cockiness to hide his shyness. Required no real thought, no real effort - beyond, of course, what he gave in the bedroom. Or the shower. Or, more than once, in the car. He always made sure they were satisfied. 

So he doesn’t lack experience. But being with you is like nothing he’s ever felt before. Maybe it’s the newness of this physical connection between you that is driving the way he wants you all the time. Like all the time. Or maybe it’s something else. 

Whatever it is, he wants more than the memory of a wild night. 

These thoughts swirl through his mind as he slams a hand on the wall right above yours, steading himself so he can thrust his other hand into you harder, faster. He tries to shut down the thinking part of his brain as he focuses on the moment, letting the sensations take over.

Slick skin slides against slick skin. The warm water rushing over you both gets in his eyes, his mouth as he drops to his knees, but he doesn’t care. 

“Fuck, Kookie.” 

Your words reverberate in the resonant space, a chorus of praise that fills the room. He’s the one kneeling, worshipping, but you’re the one praying. All he feels is you.

“Come on, baby, I know you’re close. Just let go.” He grabs at your waist, making you arch your back a little so your ass sticks out. Once you’re in the right position, he tilts his face up and licks along the wet slit where his fingers just were. 

Jungkook loves eating pussy. He could spend hours between your legs, face buried in your sweetness, coaxing orgasm after orgasm from you. It makes him feel almost powerful, knowing he can make you come apart so quickly. Confident, in a way he’s rarely known off the stage.

He feels that way now, even though he’s in a rather vulnerable position, crouching in your crowded little bathtub with your thighs on either side of his head. You could crush him with those, so easily. And he’d use his last gasping breath to thank you. 

“Kookie, goddamn, that’s - ah - oh, that’s so good!” You press your cheek into the wall, trying to keep your balance as you push your hips back, seeking more of his hot mouth. “Please, oh fuck, please don’t stop!” 

There’s no way he’d stop now. He hums into you, loving the way you shudder in response. As your hips begin to rock, dragging your cunt over his eager tongue, he brings his tattooed hand up to press into your clit, tracing tiny circles into the throbbing nub like he’s drawing a bullseye, aiming oh so carefully for the center.

You cry out so loudly when your climax hits. Jungkook feels his dick twitch just from the way you say his name. Before he’s finished licking you clean, you’re reaching for him, pulling him up to join you. He rises obediently as you wrap your hand around his aching cock and begin to stroke. 

“Jagi,” he grunts, hips jerking erratically into your hand. His eyes fall shut. His mouth blindly finds yours, kissing you desperately as you twist and tug and then he’s painting both your stomachs with his hot seed before the warm water splashing over you washes it away. 

He’s content to let you take the lead when you kiss him this time. Your hands slide into his hair, nails scraping the nape of his neck, and he groans, pulling you closer. He knows you should probably get moving or you’ll be late, but he doesn’t want to stop holding you, and it doesn’t seem like you want to let go, either.

Eventually, though, you climb out, handing Jungkook a towel while wrapping one around yourself. He wrings the water from his long locks before knotting the soft cotton around his waist as he follows you back into your bedroom. When you turn to look at him, something in your eyes makes his pulse race. 

“What are your plans for today?”

Jungkook pulls his sweats back on as you throw on a loose shirt and some shorts. “Don’t really have any, other than work tonight.” He’d traded shifts with Bang Chan so he could have tomorrow night off to attend your friend’s wedding with you. Something he’s equally excited and nervous about, though he’s doing his damnedest trying not to show it. 

He can tell from your stories and from the few times he’s seen you with your friends that you’re incredibly close. And he gets the vibe that your friends are pretty protective of you. Especially Jisoo. Jungkook finds her pretty intimidating. Even if both Taehyung and Jimin swear she’s a sweet little kitten. Hard to trust their judgment when they’re both so lovesick. 

You’re still looking at him, though you seem deep in thought. Finally, you nod. “Okay. I’m taking today off, too.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, fuck it, I need a break from that place. And yesterday was so nice…” you shrug, playing with the drawstrings at your waist. “Maybe we could hang out again? Since you’re free?” 

Jungkook’s starting to worry about the effect you have on his heart. Right now, it feels like it might just float straight out of his body and through the ceiling. 

“I mean, if that’s what you want…” he replies, hoping his tone sounds calmer than he feels. How’s he supposed to play it cool when such a simple question makes him so happy like this? 

You slide off the wall, stepping closer until you place your hands on his chest. “It’s what I want,” you confirm, brushing your lips against his. He feels you smile as he tries to deepen the kiss, but you dance away from his grasp. “Let me email my boss quick, and then I’m all yours.” 

It’s amazing how much he wants that to be true. Jungkook watches you walk away, hips swaying, and it hits him suddenly - he’s fallen so, so hard for you. 

Fuck. Whatever he does now, he can’t mess this up. Like he always does. 

“Do you want some breakfast?” Your voice calls to him from your kitchen and he snaps out of his thoughts.He finds you rummaging through your cupboard, grabbing bowls and a box of cereal. 

He munches away happily while you take a seat at your desk. “So you like working from home?” Jungkook loves dancing at Paradise, but he’s thought about camming a few times. It’d be nice to skip the commute. And the grabby customers.

“I fucking love it,” you answer, making him laugh. “I hate it when I have to go into the office. Everyone’s so loud there, all hopped up on stale coffee from the break room. Plus, I really hate having to abide by the dress code. I work better in joggers and comfy t-shirts, but some people aka my boss think that’s unacceptable.” You roll your eyes, scrolling through your email. “Ugh, I need to follow up on some of these. Shouldn’t take long.”

Jungkook tries to picture what you must look like at your office. He imagines you sitting behind a large desk, dressed in a smart suit, something like what he’s seen someone wearing in a movie, with a sharply tailored jacket clinging to your curves and a tight pencil skirt, maybe a little tighter than strictly necessary, and then his reverie shifts. Now you’re standing in front of your desk, palms pressing into the shiny surface as you bend over in that tight little skirt, and - 

Wow, he needs to get a hold of himself. He lowers his bowl a little to cover the half-chub he’s sporting, and remembers something relating to suits. “Hey, for the wedding tomorrow - is it black tie?”

“Shit, I’m sorry, I really haven’t said much about the wedding, have I?” You twist in your chair to glance at him. “It’s not a super fancy ceremony. You can just wear, like, a nice suit, if you have one?”

“All my suits are tearaways.” 

“Oh. Oh.” You blink as you realize what he means, and then he laughs. With your eyes wide like that, you kind of resemble a deer in headlights - an expression he’s come to adore, since he sees it frequently. 

“That was a joke. I have normal suits.” He takes your hand and kisses the back of it. “It’s really too easy sometimes.” Flustering you is his favorite new hobby. He’s kinda proud of how good he is at it. 

“Shut up.” You press your lips together in what looks like annoyance, but he knows you’re fighting back a laugh. He grabs your empty bowl, heading for the kitchen. “Anyway, about tomorrow, I’m gonna get ready with Jennie and the other girls, so I’ll meet you at the hotel before the ceremony. I did tell you where the wedding is, right?” 

“You did. The Black Swan.” 

Another reason Jungkook is rather nervous about tomorrow. The Black Swan is an expensive, high-end luxury hotel in the heart of downtown Seoul. Clearly your friends are doing pretty well if they can afford to get married at the hotel’s famous rooftop venue, overlooking the entire city. He bets they all have prestigious jobs or something, like lawyers and professors and doctors. 

“Right! Okay, good, at least I told you that much. Sorry, my brain’s just been all over the place lately.” 

He just hums sympathetically, lost in his own messy mind. Thinking about the rooftop makes him think of that night at Dionysus, when he’d gotten too drunk, sulking over the fact that you were on a date with someone else…

Oh shit. Jungkook pauses mid-pour of a second bowl of cereal. Are you still seeing that guy? It’s been a while since you’ve said anything about him. Seokjin. Kim Seokjin, the super successful chef. Jungkook had checked out his YouTube channel after seeing the two of you in the hallway that one time. The guy seemed to have it all - talent, good looks, and you in his arms. 

But does he still have you? Does Jungkook, for that matter? Maybe he shouldn’t think in such terms. How can anyone really “have” anyone, anyway? 

It’d be okay for him to ask you about Seokjin. Right? There was that whole competition or whatever… He closes his eyes, trying to calm his thoughts. Relax, dude, you’re spiraling. 

“Oh shit!”

Jungkook pops his head out of the kitchen at your shout. “What? Is there another spider?” 

“You’re not gonna let me live that down, are you?” 

“Nope.” He pops the ‘p’ before chomping down on another spoonful, crossing the space to stand beside you. 

“Well, it’s nothing bad. My friend Wendy, the one I told you about, that I used to work with? She said someone quit unexpectedly and her company needs to hire someone immediately for some sort of new project, so she wants to know if I would be interested in coming in for an interview!” 

You beam up at him, and he’s honestly not sure if it’s the sugar rush or just you, but he feels a little lightheaded as he grins back. 

“Jagi! That’s great!”

“Yeah! It’s kinda amazing, actually. I feel like Wendy’s thrown me a life preserver.” You fall silent as you reread the email. Jungkook swallows as quietly as he can, not wanting to disturb your concentration. He notes your brow furrowing as the silence stretches on.

“Everything okay?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah! This is great! I just…” you trail off, still reading. He waits. “They want me to interview next week, which is… a little quick.” 

“Ah,” he hums. 

Could you be nervous? Although you’ve told him that you’re sick of your company, you strike him as someone who is incredibly surefooted when it comes to your career. It’s honestly pretty sexy. (As if everything about you isn’t sexy, right down to the way your fingers lightly caress the wheel of your mouse and goddamn it, he really needs to stop thinking with his cock.)

But then you bite your lip as your gaze meets his and he realizes that yes, you are nervous. And it’s a feeling he can understand. 

“It doesn’t give me a lot of time to get myself ready. I mean, I’m thrilled that Wendy recommended me for the position, and I’m sure I could handle it, from what she’s saying, but... it’s been ages since I last interviewed for anything.” 

Jungkook nods, chewing on the inside of his cheek. You glance at the computer screen again, and he’s overcome with the urge to do whatever he can to ease your mind. “I know it’s not the same, but when I was preparing for my audition at Paradise, I had Taehyung helping me out. Maybe I could do the same for you?” He lifts a shoulder. “Ask you some questions? Help you ease back into it.” 

“Like… a fake interview or something?”

He nods. “If that would help.” 

“Really?” Your tone is hopeful, making his heart buoyant again. “You wouldn’t mind?” 

He’d have to search the internet for examples of things to ask you, since he doesn’t know the first thing about financial advising or whatever, but Jungkook feels pretty sure that he can do this for you. If you want him to. “Not at all.” 

“That would… be really great, Kookie. Thank you.” This time when you smile, it’s a shy thing, and before he can think he’s bending down to kiss you gently. You giggle into it, eyelashes fluttering when he pulls away. “What was that for?” 

He shrugs again, painfully aware that the tips of his ears are warming, turning red. “Nothing. How many more emails do you need to answer?” 

“Um…” you stare at your laptop. “Let me just respond to Wendy and then I’m done.”

“Cool.” Jungkook stretches. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes roam over his bare torso as he does so. He smirks, enjoying when you look away, knowing you’ve been caught. Wrapping his arms around your shoulders, he lowers his mouth to your ear. “I’m gonna go home and take off these dirty clothes. Come find me when you’re done. I’ll be waiting.” 

“Fuck,” is your breathy response. He laughs. You’re really too good for his ego. But before you can say or do anything else to inflate his head a little more, your phone rings. 

Be still, my heaaaaart…

“Oh god, I bet that’s my boss, wanting to talk me out of taking off.” You frown as you check the screen. “Shit, it’s Jisoo. I gotta take this.” 

Jungkook carries his bowl back into the kitchen, an excuse to give you a little privacy to talk to your friend. But he can still hear your half of the conversation anyway. 

“Ji! What’s going on? Wait, what’s that sound? Is that Jennie? Is she crying?” A brief pause. “Okay, okay, I’m coming over! No, I’m not working today, I - it’s a long story, I’ll explain when I get there.” 

Jungkook reemerges from the kitchen when he hears you say goodbye. “Is everything okay?” he asks again. 

You shake your head. “I don’t know. Jisoo’s at Jennie’s, I need to get over there.” You move hurriedly down the hallway to your room. “I could hear Jennie crying in the background.”

“Jisoo didn’t say what happened?” Jungkook watches you dress, feeling helpless. You’re radiating with a nervous energy that makes him tap his fingers agitatedly against his thigh.

“No, all she said was that Jennie needs me.” You frown, staring into your closet. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. I’m sorry.” 

He doesn’t know what you’re apologizing to him for. “It’s all right. Your friends need you.” He grins when you put on his hoodie. It really does look better on you than him. “Don’t worry about me. Just text me later.” 

“I will.” You give him a playful smile as his fingers grip at your hip, drawing you closer to him. “I’ll try not to keep you waiting too long.” 

“Better not,” Jungkook murmurs, other hand clutching your chin to bring your mouth towards his. 

************************************************************************

You stay on my mind, I can't regret no times spent with you

And I still wonder if you notice me, yes

Jungkook tips his head, staring at the canvas in front of him. Music blares from his stereo and he sings along to it without thinking. It’s like breathing for him sometimes. 

The portrait he’s working on is nearly finished, finally. It’s taken him a bit longer to do this one than usual. He’d like to blame that on being busy the last few weeks, but the truth is that he was having a hard time with the photo his patron provided. It’s not that he can’t paint from a static shot, but he prefers live models or being out in nature. He needs movement, light, even the sounds his subject makes help him to better capture them. 

But he’s pretty happy with his progress on this one. He dips his brush into the mix of yellows on his palette, a sort of sunny shade that he’s using for highlights in the woman’s hair. The gentle tap-tap of his paintbrush against the canvas triggers a tingling sensation down the back of his scalp. 

He doesn’t realize how long he’s been working until his phone buzzes and he glances at the screen. It’s a spam text, so he ignores it, but he’s shocked to see that it’s already past noon. It’s not completely surprising that he lost track of time - that’s usually what happens when he’s in the zone. Everything around him falls away until there’s nothing left but him and the canvas. He learned a long time ago to set timers for himself on the days he has work or other plans or else he’d never stop. 

But it is a little surprising that he managed to stop thinking about you for a few hours. Not because he’s obsessed with you or anything, but because after he left your apartment this morning, he was too excited at the thought of another full day with you to do anything but think about you. 

And as always, his excitement triggered an avalanche of questions. Just like this morning. What should the two of you do today? There was a new gallery on the east side of town that he’d been meaning to check out - would you want to go with him? He’d love to spend an afternoon just walking around with you, talking about art - or anything, really. Or maybe you’d rather just hang out at your place? 

Or maybe you’d have wedding stuff you’d need to do? He remembered you said that you were the maid of honor. He didn’t quite know what that entailed but figured it was important. Your friend Jennie must really trust you. Made sense to him. You and him had only been doing this… dating… whatever that you had going on only for a short while and yet he felt like he could trust you with anything. 

And speaking of dating, what about Seokjin? Were you still seeing him? You hadn’t mentioned him in a while. Jungkook wasn’t sure if that was because he had won the little competition, or if you just didn’t want to talk about Seokjin with him. He should probably ask. 

Although… there was the other night, in the hallway at Paradise. When you’d asked him for a dance. Fuck, he wished he’d could’ve danced for you. He’d been working on a routine just for you… but that night, you’d pulled him close and confessed that you only wanted him. He wanted to believe it wasn’t the alcohol talking. That you’d meant it. But the thought of asking terrified him a little. What if you didn’t remember your own words? 

His thoughts looped back around to the wedding again. There was this burning desire to impress your friends that was starting to worry him. He already knew which suit he was going to wear tomorrow, wanting to dress to kill. Maybe he’d ask Jimin to do his makeup - Jimin usually did his makeup at Paradise. 

Any time Jungkook’s brain would get overwhelmed, he would slip into what his friends refer to as his “buffering mode.” He’d freeze in place, eyes wide but unseeing as he struggled to sort out his thoughts. This morning, Jungkook realized he’d gone into this mode again when smoke began to sting his nose and he snapped back to reality to discover that he’d burnt the fuck out of his kimchi eggs. Cursing, he threw the ruined second breakfast in the trash, and decided to put on some music and focus on his painting before he burnt down his apartment. 

It worked. All those questions and worries melted away as he’d picked up his brush. But now the day’s half over and he hasn’t heard anything from you. He hopes that doesn’t mean anything bad.

His phone is still in his hand, staring up at him impassively. He debates for a few minutes, the desire to talk to you warring with the fear that he’ll come across as impatient or worse, needy, before finally putting the phone down. 

He can keep waiting. The truth is, he’ll wait as long as it takes. 

So he makes lunch. Checks his mail. Does a load of laundry. The time ticks by.

Until finally, his phone buzzes. He lunges across the pile of boxers he’s folding to grab it.

Jagiya (3:01): Kookie I’m so sorry!

Jagiya (3:01): I completely lost track of time

(3:02): it’s ok jagi

(3:02): everything all right?

It’s a few minutes before the dots on his screen disappear. 

Jagiya (3:04): Yes but no but yes? 

He has no idea what that’s supposed to mean.

Jagiya (3:04): I’ll tell you everything later, but right now, Jennie needs me

Jagiya (3:05): So I’m gonna be here a bit longer. Through dinner, at least

His heart sinks. Those little dots reappear.

Jagiya (3:06): I know we were gonna hang out. Can you forgive me?

(3:06): nothing to forgive

(3:07): do what you gotta do

His reply makes him cringe. It reads back as indifferent. What he meant to say was, you don’t need to apologize for being there for your friends. He understands. He panics a little, thumbs flying, wanting to show that he cares.

(3:07): is there anything i can do?

Jagiya (3:08): You’re so sweet 😘

His heart rebounds a little.

Jagiya (3:08): We’re okay here, thanks

Jagiya (3:09): But I guess I won’t see you before you leave for work 

Jagiya (3:09): 😞

He can picture you wearing the same expression as the emoji you send. A sad little pout. He wants to kiss it away. 

(3:10): it’s ok

(3:10): you’ll have me all day tomorrow

Jagiya (3:10): And all night?

Jagiya (3:11): 😙

(3:11): for as long as you want me, jagi

He hopes you understand just what he means. 

************************************************************************

Like it is any other Friday, Paradise is packed. The club is always stuffed full on weekend nights with patrons wanting to toss off the stress of a hard week and slip into a world of fantasy. And it’s Jungkook’s job to give that to them. After finishing his second stage performance of the night, he makes his way back to the bar, where Jimin slides him a glass of water. Taehyung joins him.

“Two more Dick Suckers, please, Min.” Taehyung sets his tray on the bar. “Nice job with that last lapdance, Kook. Poor thing asked me what her name was when she got back to her seat.” A boxy smile splits his face. “Not my name, her name.” 

Jungkook grins back. He’d been tapped to dance for a woman celebrating her divorce being finalized. At first, she’d refused to get up, but her friend, who had paid for it, had insisted that she needed to embrace her new freedom. Once on stage, she’d sat silently, slack-jawed, with her hands clasped tightly over her chest, until Jungkook finally took them and placed them on his ass. At which point she’d shrieked so loudly, he thought he’d ruptured an eardrum. After that, she didn’t stop screaming for a second.

“Thanks. Been choreographing that one for a while. Guess it works.” Jungkook tips back the rest of his water, wiping his forehead with his tattooed arm. “Is the air busted again? It’s hotter than fuck in here.” His entire torso is dripping with sweat, from the exertion of his performance, and the room feels stifling around him. 

“It’s probably just Hoseok-hyung trying to save a buck again. I’ll talk to him,” Jimin replies, placing two bright blue drinks on Taehyung’s tray. “So what time do you want to stop by tomorrow?” 

“What are you two doing?” Taehyung inquires.

“Nothing involving you,” Jimin shoots back. Jungkook cocks an eyebrow. “Taehyung’s not invited over to my place any more.”

“I said I was sorry,” the other man drawls. “I mean it.”

“Sure you do.” Jimin runs a hand through his pink hair as he rolls his eyes. 

“Do I want to know?” Jungkook asks. 

Taehyung sighs. “After work last night, Jisoo and the two of us were hanging out at Jimin’s and someone,” he flicks his dark eyes towards the bartender, “didn’t appreciate my commitment to the scene we were playing.” 

“The scene you were… ah, shit, is this some roleplaying stuff?” Jungkook knows his friends are into roleplaying. Mostly because they spend a large amount of time working out the details of said scenes. Usually in the form of very annoying arguments.

“Look, I can’t help it if I get too deep into character, okay? That’s what you’re supposed to do! Make it feel real!” 

“Vampires aren’t real, Tae!” Jimin hisses. “But the bite you left on my ass sure is!” He looks at Jungkook. “I’m going to go find Hoseok. Watch the bar, will you? And just text me tomorrow, I’ll be home all morning.” He glares at Taehyung. “Alone!” 

Taehyung sniffs as Jimin disappears towards the back of the club. “He’s just jealous because my vamp was more believable than his werewolf.” 

Jungkook slips behind the bar, shaking his head. “He seems pretty mad, hyung.” 

“He’ll get over it. He usually likes biting. I think my choice of location caught him by surprise.” 

Taehyung wanders off to deliver the drinks to his waiting patrons. The bar gets a little busy while he’s gone, with Jungkook struggling a bit to keep up with the orders coming in. When Taehyung returns, he heads straight for the other side of the bar, to give Jungkook a hand. 

“So what are you and Jimin doing tomorrow? I thought you were going to the wedding with YN.” 

“I am. He’s just helping me get ready, that’s all.”

Taehyung smiles at a patron as he hands her an Adios Motherfucker. “Careful with that, sweetheart, it’s strong.” He looks at Jungkook. “Hair and makeup?” 

“Yeah.” With the smooth flick of a wrist, Jungkook finishes another drink, handing it off with a wink. The DJ calls Namjoon to the stage and the crowd at the bar disperses as another performance begins. Jungkook grabs a towel and starts mopping the counter. He’s a serviceable bartender but he’s pretty messy. 

“Mmm.” Taehyung leans back, watching Jungkook clean. He folds his arms over his bare chest. “Kook-ah. There’s no reason to be nervous.” 

Jungkook doesn’t even ask how he knows, replacing some bottles on the wall behind the bar. “I just want to make a good impression.” 

“You think you won’t?”

Jungkook gazes at the mirror behind the racks of bottles. Wide eyes stare back. He can’t put his fears into words, struggling as usual to communicate what has him so worried. It’s just a feeling, one that’s been growing all day, the more he thinks about the wedding. That you and your friends are from another world, one where everyone is self-assured and in control of their lives. And he’s just out here, barely floating by.

“I’m just making sure I do.” He pauses, finally looking at Taehyung. He sees Jimin approaching out of the corner of his eye. “I really like her, hyung. I-I think this could be something.” 

“Awww, Jungkook-ah!” Jimin coos, pinching Jungkook’s cheeks. “Our little Jungkookie’s in love!” 

“Hyung, stop.” Jungkook smacks his hands away. As the youngest of his group of friends, Jungkook’s used to being babied by his friends. He hates it.  “I didn’t say - it’s not - “

“Kook-ah.” Taehyung places a hand on both of Jungkook’s shoulders, turning him to face him. “What am I always telling you?”

Jungkook sucks in a deep breath, huffs it back out. “Confidence.” He feels a little ridiculous doing this here, behind the bar where patrons can see him getting a motivational speech from his hyungs. But sometimes he needs it. 

“That’s right.” Taehyung squeezes his shoulders reassuringly. “Just be confident. You know who you are. And who you are is amazing.”

“Hyung….” Jungkook is thankful that the pink lighting of the bar hides the deepening blush of his cheeks. Taehyung has been trying to bolster his confidence since the day they met, all those years ago in art school. He always appreciates it, but sometimes the man can get a little cheesy.

“Hey pretty boy!” 

A loud voice disrupts the moment. All three men turn to find a woman leaning over the bar. She’s clearly drunk, head propped on her hand as she smiles at Jungkook. Her head bobs a little as she sways. 

Jungkook recognizes her. The divorcée from earlier. “Can I help you, ahjumma?” 

She curls her finger, beckoning him closer. He leans towards her, careful to still maintain his distance. Drunken patrons have been known to try to get handsy with the dancers. 

“I wan’ a private dance,” she demands, words slurring a bit. 

Jungkook glances at Taehyung and Jimin. They appear to be on the same page as he is, based on their furrowed brows and pursed lips. She’s too drunk. Where is her friend? 

“I believe all of our private rooms are busy at the moment. Can I get you some water while you wait?” Jimin doesn’t wait for an answer as he places a glass in front of her. She just waves him off. 

“Not talking to you. Talking to him.” She points at Jungkook, grinning. Her smile turns Jungkook’s stomach a little. It’s cold. “I want a private dance. If I can’t have it here, maybe I could have it later? At my place?” 

Jungkook’s own smile feels tight. “I’m sorry, I don’t do private dances outside of the club.” 

She tilts forward, and Jungkook can smell the alcohol wafting off her. “Come on, pretty boy, I’ll pay. I have,” she hiccups, covering her mouth, “I have so much money.”

“It’s not a matter of money.” Jungkook scans the floor behind her. Seriously, where the hell is this woman’s friend? Should they call her a ride? 

The woman scoffs at Jungkook’s response. “Oh, come on, of course it is! That’s why you’re here, right? You dance, I give you money. It’s your job, honey.” 

Jimin and Taehyung are having a hushed conversation next to him, but Jungkook isn’t listening. He knows it’s pointless to try to reason with this customer, and yet he keeps trying. 

“It’s not my job. My job is to dance here. Not in private.” He knows what she wants, but he’s not for sale. He used to give it away for free, but he never took money or gifts. But even if he did sex work, he’s not going home with her. Especially not if she refuses to accept it when he says no. “Why don’t you have a seat, and I’ll call you a ride? We’ll make sure you get home safely.” 

She seems to finally realize that she’s not going to get her way, and her demeanor changes, countenance warping into an ugly sneer. “Don’t you con-condescend to me! You’re just a pretty boy with a hot body. Good for nothing but a quick fuck.” 

Even though it’s obvious that this woman is totally wasted, her words sting anyway, like a slap in the face. Jungkook recoils slightly, drawing back from the bar. 

“Okay, that’s enough,” Taehyung announces, sliding out from under the bar. “Let’s sit down, shall we?” But as he moves towards the woman, they hear another voice calling out.

“Oh my god, there you are!” It’s the woman’s friend, looking frazzled as she runs up to the bar. “I’m sorry, I thought she’d be okay while I ran to the bathroom. I got back to our table and people next to me said she’d stolen some shots from their table and wandered off!” 

“Well, that explains it,” Taehyung frowns. “I think you should take your friend home.” 

“I will. I’m so sorry, I hope she hasn’t been any trouble. She hasn’t been this drunk in years!” She wraps an arm around the divorcée’s shoulders. “Come on, let’s get you home.” 

The three men watch silently as the woman’s friend steers her towards the door, taking a wobbly path due to her friend’s intoxication. After a moment, Jungkook feels his friends’ eyes on him, but he keeps focused on the two women until they reach the entrance. 

“She was drunk, Kook,” Taehyung murmurs. Again, Jungkook doesn’t even need to ask how he knows what he was thinking. 

“I know.” 

“Don’t let her get to you,” Jimin says in a gentle tone. He lightly pats Jungkook’s arm. “I’ve got the bar covered. Why don’t you go take a break?” 

The locker room is empty when Jungkook enters. He pauses in front of a mirror for a moment, taking the time to wipe away where his eye makeup has smudged from the humidity in the club. He knows that woman was drunk. He knows this. And yet, her words have fed directly into his fears. 

What if he’s not enough? What if all he’s good for is, as those words rattling around in his head angrily declare, “a quick fuck?” 

The drunken woman’s expression while he’d danced for her reminded him of the night he’d danced for your friend Jennie. The way you’d looked at him, like you were seeing him for the first time. How he’d liked it. How, when he told his friends that the neighbor he’d been crushing on for months had shown up, he’d been encouraged to try and make a move. Ugh, that clumsy first attempt at flirting, using your shower - the memory makes his ears turn red. He’d stolen that idea from some cheesy movie he’d seen. But it worked, hadn’t it? It led to here. To whatever the two of you were now. 

If only he knew what that was. 

Suddenly, he needs to talk to you. He rummages through his bag until he finds his phone, grinning when he sees there’s a message waiting for him.

Jagiya (11:05): Hope you’re having a good night 😚

(11:53): it’s better now

(11:53): you still up?

He doesn’t have to wait long. 

Jagiya (11:54): I’m here

He presses the call button. 

“Hey Kookie.” Your voice is so warm, equal parts sleepy and surprised. He imagines you’re lying in bed, can picture the way you looked this morning. Wishes he were there. 

“Hey Jagi.” He leans back against his locker, closing his eyes. “Is it okay that I called?”

“Of course,” you laugh. “What’s up?” 

“Not much. I just… wanted to hear your voice.” He didn’t mean to say that. But it’s the truth. 

You hum, this sweet, soft sound that fills his chest with a happy buzzing. “You okay?”

“I’m okay. Just a long night.” He’ll tell you another time about what happened. He’d rather not relive it right now. “Is everything all right for tomorrow?”

“Yeah, Jennie’s good, and everything’s still set for the wedding. I really can’t wait, it’s gonna be amazing.”

“I can’t wait, either,” Jungkook admits. 

There’s nothing but the gentle sound of your breathing on the other end of the line for a few seconds, and then you ask, “Do you, um, want a sneak peek at my outfit for tomorrow? I took a picture earlier when I was trying it on.” 

“Sure.” He’s not going to turn down the chance to see your beautiful smile right now. 

The image that you send him a few seconds later takes his breath away. 

There’s no bridesmaid gown in sight. Instead, sheer white lace covers your body, the delicate fabric flowing from your breasts down your torso to your hips in a tight-fitting strapless one-piece. Around your waist is a snug garter belt, straps extending down your thighs to where they fasten to silk stockings. And the expression on your face nearly makes him whimper. You’ve one of your hands raised to your mouth, pointer finger dragging your bottom lip down as the edge of your pink tongue licks the tip.

All the blood in his body rushes south. As he stares at his phone, unable to blink, Jungkook exhales loudly. 

“Fuck.” 

You laugh again. “Do you like it?” 

“Jagi, I - “ Words fail him. You’re gorgeous, every inch of you. “I love it. Fuck, you’re so sexy.” 

More giggles. “Noooo, I’m not, stop. I wasn’t planning on wearing this under my dress originally, but I remembered I’d bought it months ago when Jisoo and I were out day drinking and shopping and I - I don’t know.” The words come out in a rush, like you’re embarrassed. “I just want to look good for you, Kookie.” 

Fuck. Why’s he gotta be at work right now? He palms over his erection, wondering if he has the time to lock himself in a bathroom stall and take care of it. While telling you exactly what he wants to do to you in that lingerie tomorrow. 

“You always look so good, baby,” he groans, voice a little husky. “I can’t wait to see this in person. Was it expensive?” 

“No, I don’t think so? I don’t really remember. Did I mention the drunkenness?” 

“Good. Then you don’t mind if it gets a little ripped?” Jungkook grins at your tiny inhale at his words. “Because after the wedding, I’m gonna-”

“Hey Kook-ah, you in here?” Hoseok pokes his head into the locker room. “Ah, there you are. Come on, you and Taehyung are up.”

“Be out in a minute, hyung,” Jungkook nods and the other man leaves. He sighs into the phone. “Shit. I’m sorry, jagiya, but I gotta get back out there.” 

“Wait! Aren’t you going to finish your thought? You can’t leave me hanging like this!” There’s a playfulness to your tone that makes his already hard cock ache. He’s going to have to go stand under an ice-cold shower for a minute before getting back into costume for his double routine with Taehyung. 

“Oh, baby, trust me, you don’t have to worry. You’ll be taken care of. When I see you tomorrow.” Jungkook smirks at his reflection when you whine in his ear.

“Fine.” You sound wounded. “Guess I’ll see you.” 

“You will. Night, jagi.” 

“G’night, Kookie.” With a final exasperated sigh, you hang up. 

Before he puts his phone back into his bag, it buzzes again. Another photo of you, this time just your face, wearing the saddest pout. The message makes him laugh. 

Jagiya (12:04): You’re such a tease

He fires off a response, then heads towards the showers, chuckling to himself the whole time 

(12:04): i know

(12:04): sweet dreams

************************************************************************

There’s not a single cloud in the sky as Jungkook steers his motorcycle down the busy city streets Saturday afternoon. He can see the Black Swan towering over the other highrises as he draws nearer. He tries to ignore the nerves in his stomach, but the swirling is impossible to ignore the closer he gets. 

By the time he’s in the elevator, rising to where the ceremony is being held, the swirling has become a maelstrom. He breathes through his mouth, inhaling and exhaling slowly. It’s gonna be fine. He just needs to walk out there with confidence, like Taehyung said. He can do this. Just pretend like he’s on stage. Too bad there won’t be any actual dancing until the reception. That’s when he feels the most at ease. 

The elevator dings as it arrives at the rooftop. When the doors part, his eyes widen, taking in the gorgeous scenery before him. The elevator opens directly into a lush garden, with flowering bushes and potted maple trees dotting the grounds. To his right, a mirrored wall reflects the greenery, making the open space feel even larger. The reception venue is on the other side of the mirrored wall, but the ceremony will be held in the gardens. 

Chairs have been arranged in rows on either side of a strip of green grass, cut low for the bridal party to walk down. At the end of the green pathway is an arch-shaped trellis covered with flowering vines and tiny string lights. And as his eyes adjust to the brilliant sunlight, he recognizes the group of women talking in front of the arch.

Your dress is identical to the ones worn by the three women standing by you, but he barely acknowledges this fact, too busy focusing on you and you alone. The lavender-colored silk hugs your curves, a small slit cut right at your left knee to reveal the stockings beneath. He tries not to think about what’s holding those stockings up. The straps of the dress rest just off your shoulders, snug against the soft skin there. 

You’ve opted for a fresh-faced natural look, with light makeup just highlighting your features. There’s a pink mugunghwa flower tucked behind your right ear, matching the simple bouquet in your hands. You’re a summer dream, blinding Jungkook with your radiant beauty. 

The tumult in his stomach stills more the longer he admires you. 

He pauses at the edge of the pathway, unsure if he should disturb you and your friends. But Jisoo makes the decision for him, as she turns and catches him watching you. She purses her lips, a loud wolf whistle piercing the air. 

“Holy shit, Bambi’s looking fine!” 

The rest of the group jumps as she grins, pointing to Jungkook. When your gaze meets his, he feels a jolt of electricity. He smirks, emboldened by your eyes on him, and strikes a pose, one hand in the pocket of his charcoal grey suit, cinched tight at his waist with a thick belt. Jimin had swept Jungkook’s hair off his face, showing off his eyebrow piercing, and did an impeccable job with his makeup. Jungkook knows he looks good. 

The expression on your face confirms it. 

As the other girls start whooping in agreement with Jisoo, he takes the opportunity to tease you a little, strutting down the grass pathway like he’s working the stage. He can tell it’s working when you glance away from the heat of his gaze, biting your lip to suppress a grin, before giving in and beaming widely at him. 

“Hey,” you say. 

“Hey,” he replies, matching your smile. “You look beautiful, jagi.” 

There’s some cackling from the other girls, but he ignores it, lost in your eyes. Until Jisoo’s hand appears in front of his face, snapping her fingers. 

“Hi, hello, you two can continue this after the ceremony, okay? Jennie will kill you if we start late because you were too busy eye-fucking at the altar.”

“Ji!” you hiss as the other girls continue to giggle. “Koo- uh, Jungkook, you remember Jisoo, I’m sure.” He nods, shoulders shaking slightly with quiet laughter. “And this is Lisa and Rosé.” 

“Nice to see you again,” Rosé greets him.

“Thanks, you too,” he replies, and then his mind goes blank. Thankfully, you save him from having to make small talk, looping your arm through his. You hand your bouquet to Lisa. 

“Have you seen the setup for the reception? It’s incredible.” And you start to tug him down the pathway, away from your friends.

“Remember, we’re starting in half an hour!” Lisa calls after you. 

Jungkook can’t quite make out what Jisoo says next, but it has the others laughing loudly, and he hears you mumble something about “unhinged freaks,” under your breath. You lead him through the double doors in the mirrored wall, into the rooftop restaurant that’s been converted into a reception space. But before he can get a good look at the room, you’re guiding him out of it and down a hallway. 

“Uh… wasn’t that the room?” 

“Oh, that was just to get you away from my friends before they said or did anything else to humiliate me.” You glance at him, and his heart skips a beat when he sees the heat in your eyes. “I’ve got something else in mind.” 

You stop in front of a door, ushering him inside. The men’s room, he quickly realizes, fingers locked in yours as you pull him into a stall. 

“Jagi? What - “ 

That’s as much as he gets out before you throw your arms around his neck and crush his mouth to yours. There’s an urgent hunger in your kiss that he immediately responds to, sliding his hands along the smooth silk of your dress to hold you close. But just as suddenly as you kissed him, you’re breaking away, dropping to your knees. 

Oh shit. He goes from half-mast and confused to fully erect and excited in a matter of seconds, staring down at you as your fingers make short work of his button and fly. 

“I missed you last night,” you inform him, swiftly yanking his pants down. 

“Jagi,” he breathes, almost lightheaded with want as you nuzzle your face against the outline of his cock through his boxer briefs. It’s strangely sweet and filthy all at once. “Missed you too.” 

“And even though you left me so… unsatisfied… last night,” you continue, fingernails lightly scratching up his thighs, sending a shiver down his spine, “and you are the one who promised me that I’d be taken care of today, seeing you in this suit…” As you trail off, you slide Jungkook’s boxers to the ground. He springs forth, bobbing so close to your mouth that he can feel your hot breath. 

“You like the suit?” he blurts out, earning himself a sweet giggle. Fuck, how are you being so cute right now while you’re this close to his dick? You stare up at him, all innocent doe eyes and angelic smile, and Jungkook thinks that he’d give you the world right now if you asked him to. 

“Can I show you how much I like it?” 

He nods vigorously, and you curl a hand around his cock as you suck the tip into your mouth. 

“Mmmmph,” he moans, pressing his lips together to stifle the sound. Anyone could walk in here at any moment. Even though you’ve hiked your gown up, clutching the hem in one hand to keep it from trailing out of the stall and getting dirty, it’s pretty fucking obvious that there’s someone on their knees in here, sucking the life out of Jungkook’s dick. 

Your mouth is perfect, so warm and wet and tight around his thick length. His hips jerk forward when you hollow your cheeks. He’s going to come embarrassingly fast, he just knows it.

“Baby,” he rasps when you swirl your tongue around the head, coating him in more saliva. His own tongue pokes through his teeth as he tries his best not to whine loudly. “Fuck, you’re making such a mess.” 

You pop off him to inspect his cock. It’s covered in your lipstick. “Oops. Sorry about that.” You swallow him back down, mouth working in tandem with your hand to stroke him off. 

“S’okay,” he murmurs, left hand clutching the top of the stall wall so tightly that his knuckles are turning white. “I-I like it messy.” 

He twitches in your mouth when you hum at his words. Shit, he’s definitely going to come. 

“Jagi, I can’t hold out, ‘m gonna, ah shit!” You take him as deep as you can, choking around him, and he understands what you’re telling him, that it’s okay, that you want him to come down your throat, and with that realization he’s gone, flooding your mouth as he bites down on his tattooed hand to muffle his contented groan. 

You take everything he has to give, gulping it down so lewdly that he grabs your hand, pulling you to your feet so he can kiss you fervently, not caring if he can taste himself on your tongue. 

“You’re amazing,” he whispers against your lips, cupping your face with both hands. You merely sigh, high and sweet, mouth brushing his, laughing as you gently push him away. 

“I better get back out there,” you say, straightening your dress. The flower behind your ear has slipped a little, and Jungkook reaches out to fix it for you. You smile gratefully, pressing one last peck to his cheek. “Give it a few minutes before you come out, okay?”

He nods, but stops you before you can unlock the stall. “I’m still going to take care of you later, you know.”

“I know,” you grin, and then you slip out the door. 

Jungkook takes a minute to clean himself up. It almost seems a shame to wash the lipstick off, but he decides he’ll just ask you to put more on later. God, he can’t wait to get you alone tonight. 

Before he leaves the bathroom, he checks the mirror to make sure he doesn’t look as wrecked as he feels. His earlier jitters have completely disappeared. He feels as confident as he looks. He can do this. 

And then Jungkook emerges from the bathroom, and his world tilts a bit. Because there, standing at the other end, with his arms slung around your back, is Kim Seokjin. 

************************************************************************

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One Step Away From You (Chapter 7)

BSF!Eddie Munson x PlusSize!Fem!Reader

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Chapter Summary: You spend some much needed one-on-one time with Max, and celebrate Halloween with the Party. WC: 5.8k Warnings: MDNI as always. Explicit language. Talks about death, grief, trauma, depression, guilt, all the fun stuff. Brief run in with Jason and his lackies. Total idiots in love, mutual pining fest in here. We're helping Max heal this chapter <3 Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out, life has been lifing but I hope y'all enjoy it! I had fun writing this one. Taglist: @eddie-is-a-god @siriusmaraudeers

Friday, October 25th, 1985

The cool October night breeze caresses your skin as you step out the doors of Hawkins High, the excited chatter of the club members following behind you. When you hear quick steps approaching behind you, you turn to see Eddie fall in step next to you.

“So remind me again why you’re bailing on me for our only just recently reinstated Friday movie nights?” he questions, feigning offense. You scoff out a small laugh as you dig for your keys in your bag, approaching your truck parked next to his van.

“Because I already told you, I’m taking Max out to the drive-in.”

“Oh yeah, what movie are you gonna see?”

“They’re playing Silver Bullet tonight.”

“Oh man. Yeah, I’ve heard about that one. Looks really good, I’ve been really wanting to see it.” He leans against his van, putting on the dramatics and fake disappointment that you see right through, unable to stop the big smile from creeping onto your face as you watch his little show. 

“Oh is that so?” you tease, popping out your hip as you cross your arms, amusement written across your face.

“Come on. What, you think I’m gonna dampen your girl party?” 

You roll your eyes.

“Under any other circumstances, I’d insist you join along. But Max… she’s already been isolating herself enough as it is, anyone else being there would just close her walls right back up, you know? And I’m trying to bring those walls down so…” 

“Yeah, I get it. I’m only teasing. I hope you guys have a good time. Tell me if the movie's any good, yeah?” He offers you a soft smile, a smile you return that quickly turns into a smirk as you watch the younger boys approaching.

“Uh huh, you too” you respond, gesturing with your eyebrows as you unlock the door to your truck.

Eddie’s eyes follow yours behind him, shoulder’s quickly slumping at the sight and question he already knows is coming.

“Hey uh, you mind giving us a ride home?” you overhear Dustin ask as you start your engine, quickly leaving Eddie to fulfill the drop offs you’ve done countless times since the beginning of the semester.

You turn the knob on your radio through the channels of static till the sound of the opening credits come through your speakers. With a bag of popcorn and slushies set between you, you and Max settle against your clothed truck seats, focusing on the huge screen set out 100 feet away in the big field now filled to the brim with cars full of other teenagers seeking a scary late night flick. 

You let yourselves get pulled into the film, mindlessly funneling popcorn into your mouths between sips of cherry Icees. You find yourself wondering how to spark a deeper conversation with Max. As much as you don’t want to force her to open up, with each week that passes you’ve only grown more worried and concerned for her.

You’ve spent some brief time together since you moved back, giving her a ride here and there given her mom is always working, but this is the first extended time you’ve been able to spend together. As you’re lost in thought, the sound of her throat clearing from the seat next to you grabs your attention.

“Hey, I-uh, just want to say thanks. For bringing me. This is the first time I’ve gone out and done anything in a while, so…” She mutters almost shyly, hesitantly. You offer her a genuine smile that relaxes the tension in her body.

“Anytime, I’m glad you could join me. I’ve missed this, you know, our girl time.” You offer, pulling a smirk and eye roll from her. As your eyes move back to the movie, hers drift to examine your Hellfire shirt.

“Since when are you in Hellfire?” she asks curiously.

“Oh, well since last Friday. Once me and Eddie made up I decided to join.” You answer, shrugging nonchalantly as you look down and admire your new Hellfire shirt Eddie rushed to get made for you.

“Made up?” She prods with an eyebrow cocked.

“It’s a long story.” You answer dismissively as you shake your head, assuming she wouldn’t be interested.

“Oh, so you got to hear all the gossip about my relationship back in the summer but I don’t get to hear about yours?”

Your eyes widen as you look at her with a smirk, caught off-guard by the witty remark you always knew her for but haven’t seen much of in the last few weeks. 

“Eddie and I aren’t in a relationship. We’re just friends, Max.”

“Uh huh.”

“I’m serious!”

“Well, I still wanna know the juicy details of the ‘making up’ you two did.” She insists, crossing her arms across her chest as she settles further into the passenger seat of your truck. 

You scoff out a mix between a laugh and a groan before letting your eyes survey her again.

“There’s no ‘juicy’ details, not that I’d tell you if there was anyway.” You emphasize before continuing, “We just have always been best friends, ever since I first moved to Hawkins. We got close pretty quickly. But then I moved back to Virginia and…”

“And?”

“I um, I stopped talking to him. Stopped returning his calls.” You answer with a sigh, meeting her blue eyes as they begin to reflect a knowing feeling.

“Why?”

“It was just too painful to deal with, to hear his voice, to be reminded of the loss that came with the move. It’s like, being so overcome with that pain that you just avoid everyone, let alone that person that it’s attached to. Sometimes it just feels easier to be alone in your pain.” You end with a shrug despite knowing how true some of that may ring for her too.

She pulls her eyes from you to the sweating cup of slushie in her hands as she nods briefly.

“Yeah, I get that.” Is all she offers in the moment. You let a few seconds pass by before you continue.

“I mean I ended up regretting it but, it was just too easy to get stuck in the pain and then the anxiety, you know. I never spoke to him again till I just moved back. We had some brief hurdles to overcome but, we talked things out and we’ve been able to start our friendship again.”

She nods again, briefly lifting her eyes to meet yours again with a forced smile before turning her gaze to the movie.

“I’m glad you guys worked things out.”

“Yeah, me too.” you mutter softly as you turn your own gaze back to the movie.

Part of you is hoping this is a small step in the right direction. Hoping that Max takes the fact that you can somewhat understand how she’s feeling, what she’s going through as a sign you’re a safe space for her. Someone she can open up to and who will actually understand. 

Opening up about your own experience with Eddie, and your struggle with depression and isolation is your first step, initiating the bigger conversation with Max in a way. So you leave it at that, leaving it to her to decide what she wants to do with it as you attempt to get yourself back into the film you can tell you’ve already lost key information in due to your conversation.

The drive back to Forest Hills is silent besides the sound of the breeze blowing through the cracked windows and your joined hums along to the Kate Bush Hounds of Love cassette playing through the speakers. You pull into your driveway close to 11pm, turning to Max with an almost shy smile as you shift into park. 

“Did you have a good time?” You ask with a hint of nervousness as you search her face and body language. She leans forward in the seat, nodding her head gently.

“Yeah, thanks again.” She reassures you. You remove your keys from the ignition, but stop yourself from opening your door and getting out when you notice her hand hesitating on the door handle.

“Hey, what’s up?” you ask, voice soft. Her body leans back slightly, but her eyes still refuse to lift from the floor of your truck to your eyes.

“What you told me earlier about you and Eddie. I just- I know how you felt.”

“I know, sweetie.” You reply with a sigh, leaning back into your own seat. When her eyes look up to meet yours, you elaborate. “That’s why I told you. So you’d know I understand. I won’t lie and say I completely know everything you’re probably going through, but I do know some of it and... I just hope you know I’m always here, no judgment.”

She takes your words in and lets them settle, staring down at her fidgeting hands as she musters together the courage to let you in, like she had so easily before all summer. But this is different.

“I just… I feel so guilty. I can’t escape that night, that image of Billy, even in my dreams. He-He sacrificed himself for me and I just…watched.” You listen to her intently, giving her the space to say all she wants before you speak up.

“I understand why you feel that way. I still get flashbacks and nightmares of that night sometimes too.”

“You do?” 

“Of course. Living through something like that, it’s gonna stick with us. And that guilt part? That’s normal too, there's even a name for it. Survivor’s guilt. You blame yourself for what happened, maybe you even wish it happened to you instead. But you are not to blame, Max. None of that was your fault.”

“Still, I just stood there and watched, I was frozen. Maybe I could have done something, maybe I could have helped.” She stutters out, pain and frustration sketched across her face. Your heart breaks at the sight, at seeing her carry all the responsibility for what happened on her shoulders, weighing her down for months.

“I hear you. I know it’s frustrating, eating you up. You’re mad at yourself, wishing you could change what happened. Have you ever heard of fight or flight?” When she nods, you keep going. “Well, that’s not all there is to it. Freezing is also a very normal reaction to something traumatic. You didn’t have a choice, your nervous system decided for you.”

She looks at you, wiping a tear as it falls from her eyes.

“Really? You're not just making that up to make me feel better, right?”

You shake your head in reassurance, both taking a deep breath against heavy chests with the weight of the pain.

“I was there with you too, Max. It all happened so fast, even if we hadn’t frozen… there’s nothing we could have done.” 

Flashbacks hit you as you speak, seeing Billy get trapped under falling pillars and rubble from the mall fire, and his instant death from the crushing weight. Rubble that would’ve fallen on Max. 

She reluctantly shakes her head in agreement as you finish, the same memories flashing through her mind, knowing you’re right. Beginning to let herself believe it. Letting you chip away at the weight she’s been carrying, letting herself feel the small relief that comes with it.

“I know you’re right. It’s been hard to try to convince myself of it but… hearing it from you too. It helps. That’s not all of it though… I think about how much I hated him, all the thoughts I had about him. I’d lay in bed at night and wish something bad would happen to him.” She whispers, shame bleeding through her words.

“Max” you breathe out in empathy at her confession, reaching out to grab and squeeze her hand, pulling her attention back to you. “Wanting someone who did nothing but torment you out of your life does not make you a bad person, and it doesn’t make you responsible for what happened to him, either. Billy was not a good person, but everyday I am so grateful he had enough good left in him to save you. Because you are good and you deserve to forgive yourself, hun.”

You pour your heart into every word, staring intently into her blue eyes as tears now freely stream from them and fill your own waterline. You see her breath stuttering in her chest before she throws her arms around you, both quickly closing the space between as you embrace each other.

“You are so loved, Max Mayfield. Don’t you ever forget that.” You mutter out the words you know she needs to hear. You know the dark place the guilt, shame, and trauma have taken her too well. You hold her for a minute until you feel her arms begin to slip from you. As she comes back into your vision, an idea hits you.

“I know something else that might help. Why don’t you write him a letter?” She looks at you in slight confusion, so you push further. “I’m serious! Write him a letter with everything you want to say to him, what you’ve been holding in. Go to his grave and read it out loud like you're actually saying it to him, let it all out. And then, burn it, bury it, I don’t care. As long as you get rid of it in some way. Say what you want to say to him, and then let it go.”

She considers your words for a moment before she nods.

“Yeah, that actually doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

“I’ll even take you, I’ll stay in the truck the whole time too. You just let me know, okay?” You offer, voice soaked in sincerity.

She’s quiet sitting there, lost in thought as she fidgets with her zipper. After a moment, you hear her voice quietly croak out.

“I wish you were my sister.”

It’s a whisper, a nervous confession you could’ve easily missed had all of your attention not already been on her. You greet her with a smile as she chances a look from her hands to your face, wiping the fallen tears on her cheeks with her jacket sleeves.

“We may not be blood, but I’ll be your older sister for as long as you’ll have me.”

When she returns your small smile, you raise your hand in front of you, pinky finger extended. A short giggle at the lighthearted childishness of it escapes her mouth before she wraps her pinky around yours. 

Soft smiles, dried tear stains, and a promise to always be there for her.

Thursday, October 31st, 1985

Halloween Night

You examine yourself in your vanity mirror, fluffing your hair you spent nearly an hour on to make sure it’s perfect. Purple eyeshadow matching your purple dress, sharp winged eyeliner. You smile at yourself, hands following the way your dress accentuates your wide hips before flowing out around your thick thighs. Looking down at your high heels, you wish you’d picked a different character to dress up as, already foreseeing the pain your feet would be in at the end of the night.

With a sigh, one final look over in the mirror, and the clock nearing the time of the scheduled meet-up with your friends, you turn off your lights and close your bedroom door.

“Don’t you look cute!” your mother exclaims as you enter the living room, hands covering her cheeks as she gushes over you. You bashfully roll your eyes but share a big smile with her.

“You like it? It looks good?” You ask with your arms spread out, giving a little twirl.

“You look beautiful, honey. I wish you’d dress like this more often!” You stop yourself from giving a less than bashful eye roll this time, but can’t deny that you feel and look good in this dress. 

“Don’t stay out too late, it’s still a school night!” She gives you a kiss on the cheek as you part, you give her the reassurance you’ll be back before 11 as you head out the front door. 

The sound of your heels clapping against the cement fills the silence of the neighborhood as you begin crossing the road toward Eddie’s trailer. Your head shoots up when you hear a low whistle, eyes landing on Eddie as he sits on his porch steps with a smug grin on his face.

“My, my, my. Look at you.” he mutters, observing you as you approach. The darkness of the night casting a shadow over him to hide the way his eyes rake over your exposed thighs, dress swishing against them with each step. He hasn’t seen you in a dress since you were kids and your mom had more control over your outfit choices. Seeing you now, he thinks it’s one thing he might take your mom’s side on, you need to add more dresses to your wardrobe.

“Yeah, yeah. Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“You know what, I think that’s a fantastic idea. Bring a camera?”

“Shut up.” You giggle, slapping him on the shoulder as you stand beside him.

“What?! You look nice. I can’t tell my best friend she looks nice?”

“Whatever you say, Munson. Besides, you know your pants are supposed to be khaki right? Or atleast brown!” You tease as you pull at a loose string around the knee of his ripped black jeans.

“Hey, at least I got the shirt right.” He retorts as he points at his green shirt, literally the only item of clothing he's sporting to mimic his character. 

Both your heads turn at the sound of feet approaching. You smile at the sight of your red-headed younger friend. Ever since that night at the drive-in, that Sunday when you gave her a ride to Billy’s grave, she’s slowly started coming back around the party again, beginning to let everyone back in and you couldn’t be happier. You wrap your arms around her for a quick hug as she joins you and Eddie.

“I’m so happy you came!” you beam, pulling a laugh from her as you move your bodies side to side in the embrace.

“You look good.” She remarks with a quirked eyebrow as you part.

“Thanks, Red.” 

Eddie stands up from the porch steps during your greeting.

“Nice to officially meet you, Mad Max. Who are you supposed to be anyway?” He asks, both of you examining her outfit.

“Dr. Sarah Bowman from Day of the Dead. Already had everything I needed for it in my closet.” She answers with a shrug, gaining a nod of approval from both of you.

“Well, we ready to get this party started?” He asks, dangling the keys to his van from his fingers. 

With that, the three of you load into Eddie’s van and head to pick up the boys before going to the final meeting place of Steve’s house. Steve ensuring all of you his neighborhood is the best trick or treating spot in town. Full of well-off families who give out full-sized candy bars.

When you pull up to the end of Mike’s driveway to pick up the three boys, your eyes widen and mouth drops open in disbelief at the sight of Dustin. While Mike dressed up as the Hulk, Lucas as Indiana Jones, you can't believe your eyes when you see Dustin clad with dog ears, a tail, and collar.

“No fucking way.” you laugh out in disbelief.

“What? You can’t have the gang without Scooby!”

You and Eddie try to bite back your chuckles, shaking your heads at the sight.

“Oh, I can’t wait till Steve sees this.”

“Just get in the van.” Eddie finally gets out between bits of laughter, cheeks turning red.

“See? We’ve even got the Mystery Machine van too, only thing missing was me.”

When Eddie and you share a glance, it only sends you into another bout of laughter as he shifts into drive, rolling out of the neighborhood toward Steve’s.

When Steve’s door opens to reveal him in full Fred get-up, with Robin next to him as Velma you smile brightly, the costumes suiting them both so well.

“Oh you’ve got to be shitting me” Steve exhales at the sight of Dustin who only greets him with his ‘pearly whites’.

“I had nothing to do with this” you claim defensively, hands up as you approach Steve and Robin, the latter’s face adorned with a shit-eating grin. When Steve sees it, the hands go on the hips.

“Rob- Seriously?”

“What? What are we just gonna have Shaggy, Daphne, Fred, Velma and no Scooby?”

“That’s what I said!” Dustin interjects in agreement.

“I can’t believe this” he mutters.

“I have to admit, you showed some great ingenuity with the costume, though.” Eddie adds amid Steve’s groans. When his eyebrows shoot up in response, looking at Eddie in disbelief, he retorts. “What? The kid’s creative, what can I say?”

“Thank you” Dustin finishes with a smug smile.

“We all look great, okay? Now, we gonna take these rich folks for all they’ve got or what?” You press, pushing everyone to begin the trek down the streets of Steve’s neighborhood, younger kids taking the lead.

Only a few houses in, the streets are littered with kids and teens in costumes. You talk amongst yourselves, commenting on your favorites and the craftiness of a few of the ones you see.

You’re filled with warmth watching the younger teens walking ahead, watching Max let herself come back out of her shell. You don’t miss the shy glances shared between her and Lucas either, smiling at the sight. While Eddie and Robin are deep in conversation about band, Steve falls in step next to you, sharing your gaze ahead.

“That’s cute” he remarks watching the two. “How did you manage that?”

“I don’t know, just told her what she needed to hear I guess.”

He peeks a glance toward Robin and Eddie before leaning closer to you.

“So, when are you and Eddie finally gonna get your head out of your asses and get together?”

You stagger in your step, taken aback as you look at him like he just spawned a second head.

“What?” Is all you can scoff out.

“Oh come on.” he remarks, hands in his pockets as he saunters down the sidewalk before he leans closer once again, “You’re not as subtle as you think you are.”

You roll your eyes at him, but the warmth filling your cheeks and smile tugging at your lips gives you away.

“Is it that obvious?” you whisper worriedly.

You two stop at the end of a walkway to a house as the rest of the group goes to the front door.

“Well to me and Robin, yeah. But obviously not to him.” 

You watch as they begin their walk back towards you, admiring the smile on Eddie’s face while amongst conversation with the kids. 

“He doesn’t see me like that. I’m just his best friend.” You decide with a sigh, slightly shaking your head before looking back up to Steve who’s observing you with a sympathetic smile.

“Are you kidding? He’d be crazy not to, you’re a total catch.” he says, playfully bumping your hip with his. 

“Thanks, Stevie.”

Eddie’s smile falters slightly as they approach, catching sight of you and Steve standing there staring and smiling at each other. Being dressed as Fred and Daphne, a couple, doesn’t help either. He doesn’t believe you’d have any reason to lie to him that you don’t like Steve as more than a friend, but as he eyes the way Steve smiles at you, the ping of jealousy in his chest tells him he’s not too sure Steve’s on the same page. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you, maybe it’s the way Steve’s playful with you like he is, and Eddie knows the deeper feelings that underlie his own teasing nature with you.

When your breath-taking smile turns to him, those thoughts falter slightly and he can’t help but flash his dimples right back at you.

“You know you’re sharing some of that loot with me, right?” You ask him, bumping his shoulder as he falls in step next to you as you continue your walk through the neighborhood.

“Psh, I’ve worked hard for this. Should’ve brought your own pillowcase and ring some doorbells if you wanted some candy.” He smirks at you, dark eyes glimmering in the night.

“Uh huh, you’re all talk, Munson. We both know by the end of the night half that bag is coming home with me.”

“Hmph, well I suggest you start putting in the work if you want some of this sugar.” 

The thoughts that immediately run through your head from his teasing remark make your cheeks flush and send a jolt right to your core. You squeeze your thighs together as you walk, attempting to push the sensation away. Thoughts and feelings like this about Eddie are reserved for late nights in your room. As much as you tell yourself it’s wrong, it’s getting harder and harder to resist. The way he teases you doesn’t help either.

The slowly intensifying, pounding pain and soreness from your feet in the cramped purple high heels is a welcomed distracting sensation. You groan softly to yourself as you look around and realize you’re only halfway through Steve’s neighborhood. A glance toward Robin’s red sneakers solidifies your decision that you should’ve followed her steps, switching out the character’s heels for much comfier shoes. 

You look around your group of friends and decide to say fuck it and suck it up. It’s your favorite holiday and you’re with your favorite people, you’re gonna enjoy it despite the pain in your feet and unwelcomed bodily sensations Eddie’s words and looks are striking into you.

As you continue through Steve’s neighborhood, joining in the trick or treating activities despite the few sideways glances from homeowners you earn as teenagers asking for candy, you’re reminded of all the things that make Halloween your favorite.

The cool autumn air.

The changing colors of the leaves that have begun to adorn the streets and sidewalks.

The costumes; from scary to funny, store bought to homemade.

The decorations; glowing orange pumpkins with an array of designs carved into them, orange and purple lights hung along the porches, scarecrows and ghosts littered amongst the lawns.

The slasher films waiting to be watched at home while eating the mountain of candy earned from knocking on your neighbors doors.

The way Dustin takes every chance he can get to say “Ruh roh Raggy”, and the way you and Eddie can’t stop yourselves from giggling every single time. 

You breathe it all in, grounding yourself in this shared moment with your friends you’ll never forget, a permanent smile settling in on your face for the night.

A smile that not even Jason and his idiot friends can stop from creasing your round cheeks. You’re so consumed living in the moment that you don’t even notice them until you hear a loud

“Hey!” Both you and Eddie’s heads turn and spot them across the street, but refuse to let your strides falter.

“Look guys, it’s the Freaks Inc. gang!” he booms, buddies bending over in laughter as they watch your group.

“Pfft, what a tool.” Steve remarks with a scoff, shaking his head as he fixes his gaze away from them and forward, unbothered. Grateful to no longer be grouped with people like him.

When you feel yourself begin to bump into the younger boys whose steps have staggered and attention drawn to the insult, you gently nudge them forward. Muttering a “Keep going, I’ve got this.”

You should just ignore them, not even give them the slither of attention or acknowledgement they’re so desperate for, but you just can’t help yourself. Not when an opportunity arises to burst their egotistical bubble. 

Ever since you and Eddie’s altercation with Jason a month ago, him and his friends have generally left the club alone, not directly confronting any of you. Traded insults with his friends when any of you would walk by, sure, but to be fair the threat you gave him only pertained to if he ever put his hands on any of you again. Anything else is fair game, and it’s a game you have no problem playing. 

You quickly eye him and his costume. He-Man. It’s a nice costume too, nearly identical to the show. Easy when you have Daddy’s money to pay for it. 

“Nice He-Man costume, Jason. Looks like you’re having a bit of trouble filling it out though, huh? Tsk, what a shame.” you say sarcastically, feigning a pouty face with a shrug before your smile returns, rolling your eyes at them as you draw your attention back to your friends. Continuing your walk down the street unphased.

You see Eddie staring at you from the corner of your eye. When you look at him, he’s looking down at you in a mix of endearment, pride, and amazement.

“What? He deserves to get knocked down a peg. Should keep his mouth shut next time.”

“Agreed.” Steve declares from the other side of Eddie.

Eddie doesn’t say anything, just wraps an arm around you and pulls you in for a tight side hug as you walk down the street. You let him, resisting the urge to bury your face and body into his side, his warmth, when his grip lightens and falls from your arm.

After another half hour of knocking on doors, you’re nearly done sweeping through Steve’s neighborhood, his house and Eddie’s van coming back into sight as you approach the last couple of houses. If it wasn’t for already going to every house in the neighborhood, the boys' complaints about how heavy their bags have gotten with candy is signaling the end of the night.

You stand with Eddie at the end of the walkways to the last few houses as the rest get the last of the candy for the night. He catches your eye when he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a rolled joint and a lighter. Just before he lights it, your laugh grabs his attention.

“Really, Eddie? In the middle of this uppity neighborhood?”

“What? I’m only being in character.” He laughs out, only to have you meet him with raised brows and a smirk. “Shaggy and Scooby are stoners and that’s a fact. Constantly having the munchies? I mean, HELLO!”

“You’re so dumb” you jest playfully as you resume your slow stride on the sidewalk.

“Well, you know what they say. Birds of a feather flock together.” He breathes out, keeping in step next to you.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Oh really? How’s about I push your ass down this hill right here?” you tease, gesturing toward the down sloped hill between the houses as you pass.

“Pfft, I’d like to see you try.” he scoffs, playing unphased despite the wide grin on his face.

“Your skinny ass will go flying, right down into that drop off in the woods. Lost forever. Such a tragedy. Some say he's still tumbling to this day.” you sigh dramatically, earning a short but loud laugh from him.

“Uh huh. Well I’m pretty quick on my feet if I do say so myself, and I don’t think you’ll be getting too far in those heels.” he retorts, pointing down to the heels that have made your feet numb at this point.

“Well you see, there’s this concept called taking them off?” You tease, bumping your body against his. “I could outrun you.”

The rest of your friends at the last house on the route are forgotten behind you as you near Steve’s.

“That so?”

“Mhmm.” you state simply, arms crossed against your chest and head held high.

“Say, you still ticklish around… here”

You squeal at the quick flicker of his fingers at the side of your waist, jumping away from him. You take wary steps backward as you move in front of him, hands slightly held out.

“You can outrun me, huh? Wanna test that?” he pushes, creeping closer to you with a mischievous smirk and sparkle in his eye. You’ve known him long enough to know he’s about to make you eat your words.

A quick flinch towards you sends you scurrying. With no chance to take off your heels, your strides are stifled as you run the short distance to Steve’s driveway as quickly as you can. Eddie follows closely behind, tickling your sensitive sides every chance he can get, giggling maniacally when it falters your steps as you flinch away. 

Everyone else on the street probably thinks you’re crazy, freaks. You aren’t paying them any attention anyway as the smile on your face begins hurting your cheeks, eyes zeroing in on Eddie’s van a few short paces away.

You throw yourself against it, but Eddie’s relentless. Going for both your sides at the same time as you turn around to face him, sending you into a fit of giggles as you feebly attempt to push him away.

You see your opportunity and quickly jab your fingers into his armpits, sending him back with a flinch and a chuckle. He gives up, leaning back against the van next to you as you both laugh between attempts to catch your breath.

You playfully smack his arm, earning a fake “Ouch” and one of the biggest smiles you’ve ever seen adorn his beautiful face.

“You asshole, Eddie-Bo-Beddie” you tease, emphasizing the pronunciation of your favorite personal nickname for him that he’s always claimed to hate. In truth, he loves it.

“Alright, alright. How’s about I share half my loot to make it up to you, what do you say?” he teases back with the plan you both knew was already going to happen anyway.

“Oh my god” you groan and roll your eyes, only making him to laugh more as you push yourself off the van with the rest of your friends quickly approaching.

“Ugh, they make me sick. I wish they’d just kiss already and get it over with.” Robin mumbles to Steve, pulling a laugh from him as he nods in agreement, watching the show you two have put on.

“Tell me about it.”

With both yours and the younger members of the party’s curfews approaching, you say your goodbyes to Robin and Steve. Embracing them both with tight hugs before piling into Eddie’s van.

Riding down the empty streets of Hawkins with the van windows cracked, the cool air a welcomed sensation against your warm cheeks. The smile never fading from your lips as the sounds of Metallica playing low through the van speakers and the chatter from the kids in the back fill your ears. Your head leaning back against the passenger seat headrest rolls to spare a glance to Eddie. His eyes meet yours, mimicking your smile and sending a shock wave right to your heart.

You make me feel like I am young again.

You sigh in content as you face the winding roads again, deciding this year just might be your favorite Halloween yet.

[vigilvntes]

Vigilante Hotline - Adrian Chase x Reader

A/N: hi. my brain works in mysterious ways and i had this idea earlier on when i responded to an ask and now here we are, three hours later with a silly little vigilante fic. it's literally just text interactions, vig's texts are the ones that end with 🧜‍♂️ (obviously). but yeah. i had a lot of fun writing this, and i'll be SO happy to write more if y'all want it?? idk. anyway enjoy i guess!

Warnings: mentions of groping/non-consensual touching (grabbing ass, etc), creepy men, mentions of violence/injuries, language (are we surprised), and just vig being generally unhinged as always. (let me know if i've missed anything!!)

Word count: 2.9k. oops.

Summary: You text in to Vigilante's 'Vigilante Hotline' after a bad encounter at the club.

likes, comments and rbs are very much appreciated <3

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

You've heard of it, of course you have. It's the town's worst kept secret. The little side hustle that Evergreen's favourite local murderer-slash-vigilante (who's conveniently named Vigilante) runs at the weekend, when the clubs and bars are busy and the creepy assholes come out to play, preying on and harassing unsuspecting victims who, by the end of the night, are probably too drunk to even remember their faces when they wake up.

The cops know about it, too. They've made weak attempts to shut down his operation over the last couple of months, but really he's doing them a favour. They're already in over their heads with calls when the Friday night crowd hits the town's nightlife, so why not just let him operate under their noses? At least, for now. Until they can apprehend him.

So, yeah. You know of it, but you've never utilised it before, because truthfully you've never really had a reason to. You like to party, but your nights out are usually spent with your girlfriends, keeping a close watch on each other and avoiding interactions with men who look like they're bad news like the plague. It's a system that works, one that keeps you out of trouble and away from bad pick-up lines and hands where you most definitely don't want them to be.

Tonight is different, though.

Your friend bailed on you at the last second, a family emergency, and you were already dressed up, so you decided that instead of wiping off your makeup and changing back into your sweats, you'd go out anyway. What's the worst that could happen?

You soon found out that the worst came in the form of Brett Lucas. A guy you knew in high school, someone you haven't spoken to in years. He found you at the bar, used the shittiest lines you've ever heard, and then bought you a drink. You decided to entertain it, because if he was willing to fund your night, then why not? You kept your hand firmly over your drink while he made derogatory jokes about other women and commented on your body and your dress. When he asked you to dance, you agreed, hoping you'd be able to lose him on the crowded dance floor.

That didn't happen, though. Instead, he got a little too touchy-feely, kept his hands firmly on your hips and pulled your body close to his until he got brave enough to slide them on to your ass and squeeze. Hard. You freaked out, told him to back the fuck off, and instead of showing any remorse, he cussed you out. Called you a fucking slut and told you that you're a bitch for leading him on and making him think he had a chance at getting into your pants.

Now, you're standing just down the street from the club, staring at the oddly professionally made poster that's been flimsily taped to a lamppost, a little picture of the all-too familiar masked man that you've seen on the news and wanted posters right in the middle.

Vigilante Hotline

Have you been a victim of a fucking creep in a club who just won't leave you the fuck alone?

Did the guy at the bar use his worst pick-up line and then immediately assume that you're into him and it's okay to touch you without your consent?

Do you wish you could fuck them up without having to face the consequences yourself?

It's your lucky day, because I can fuck them up for you!

Text their name and/or a description to the number below and I'll make them wish their mom swallowed!

(This part is just to cover my ass so, if I accidentally beat up or kill the wrong person... my bad!)

You chew down on your bottom lip, looking between your phone and the poster. You've never really been a vengeful person, you've never wished harm on anyone or caused harm to anyone, but in this moment, it's tempting. You're a little bit tipsy, irate and unsettled. The one night you decide to go out on your own, and this happens? It's a little too tempting.

But is what happened enough to contact a guy who's known and wanted for murder? Is what he did enough to warrant the beatdown of a lifetime?

You sigh to yourself before slipping your phone back into your purse, deciding that it's not worth it. But as you begin to walk away, you remember his loud, jarring cackle whenever he cracked himself up at his own shitty jokes. The way his eyes never met yours, always trained on your chest or your thighs. His gross, sweaty hands roaming all over your body before they went to grope you on the dance floor, thinking you wouldn't react because you were surrounded by other people and it'd be too embarrassing for you to make a scene.

No. Fuck it. That asshole deserves it.

You spin around quickly and pull out your phone, adding the number to your contacts and quickly typing out a message, sending it before you can even give yourself another second to think it through.

'Hey. First time texting in. Need some help. Brett Lucas. White blonde dyed hair. Awful beard, doesn't match his hair. Around 5'9. Wearing a pink shirt and black jeans. Got handsy with me. Grabbed my ass on the dance floor. Don't kill. Just rough him up a little, please.'

You don't even have a minute to breathe before your phone pings. Fuck. Alright. He's fast.

'Sick. A first time user. Happy to help. Where can I find him? 🧜‍♂️'

'He was in Dazy Nights, downtown. You know where that is?'

30 seconds pass. Your phone pings again.

'Yep. Got it. Thank god for GPS. Don't worry, first timer. I'll fuck him up the ass so hard his he'll wish he'd never even been born, as advertised. Not literally, though. I'm not gonna actually fuck him up the ass. That'd be weird. But not because I'm homophobic. My dad is gay. More because he's a creep and he touched you inappropriately. 🧜‍♂️'

"What..." You mumble under your breath as you read the text, an incredulous giggle escaping you. This guy, whoever he is, is seriously fucked in the head, you decide. A little funny, too. But you can't complain too much. You contacted him, you made the choice to text his number and incite some indirect revenge. So you just shake your head, and text back.

'Thank you. I appreciate it. Again, don't kill. Just get him good.'

'Noted! No problemo. But if you ever do need me to kill, don't hesitate to ask, first timer. Seriously, I'm so down for it. Guys like that deserve it. 🧜‍♂️'

You decide to cut the conversation there, sliding your phone back into your purse. You feel a little sick to your stomach as you walk yourself home, guilt and regret stalking you the entire way, following you into your home and crawling into bed with you.

But as you lay there, wide awake, you remind yourself of what he said. Guys like that deserve it. And maybe he's right. Maybe this is for the best, maybe next time fucking Brett will think twice before making unwanted advances. Maybe you've saved someone else from the suffering the same fate as yourself at his hands.

That thought helps you sleep a little easier.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

Monday rolls around quicker than you'd have liked it to, and all you've been able to think about over the weekend is that short conversation you had with Evergreen's own Vigilante a few nights ago. You spent all of Saturday morning re-reading the messages. Saturday night was spent in front of the TV, with some rom-com you've been meaning to watch playing as background noise while you thought about the messages. Sunday, you tried to distract yourself. You went out for brunch with a few friends, but as soon as you made it through your front door, your mind wandered right back to him and that silly little mermaid emoji that made his threats of murder seem a little lighter.

You wonder if he actually did it; whether he made good on his promise to fuck him up so badly that he'd be wishing he was never born. Part of you hopes he did, that he managed to find that fucker before he made it home and gave him a beating he'll never forget. The other part of you hopes that he missed out on the opportunity, if only to subside the quiet, yet nagging, guilty conscience in your head.

Work is a welcome distraction from the weekends events. Deadlines that need to be met, lunch with your co-workers, and your micro-managing boss that never seems to leave you the fuck alone when you're trying to do your job. It's all incredibly exhausting and boring, but at least it gives you the chance to take your mind off of what happened at the weekend, and the masked vigilante that's been invading your thoughts all weekend.

You haven't thought about it all day, until you pull up to the grocery store after work, and you see him. Brett.

He hasn't seen you, you're safely locked away in your car, but you can see him. He's standing outside the store, cigarette in hand, talking to a guy who you can only assume is one of his friends – he looks like he's just as much of an asshole as Brett. From where you're parked, you can see the shiner of a black eye on his face, dark blue bruising that extends to his forehead. There's numerous cuts and scrapes on his cheeks, and it's looks like his lips have been completely bust up.

It makes you feel slightly ill, looking at him, knowing that you're the one behind this. But at the same time, you can't help but smile to yourself, feeling weirdly... satisfied.

You grab your bag and pull out your phone, unlocking it and scrolling through your texts until you find the chat with the contact you've named 'VH'. You stare at your screen for at least a minute, re-reading the short conversation from Friday night over and over again. You want to text him. Hell, you've found yourself wanting to text him again all weekend, and you can't quite seem to place your finger on why that is. What would you even say to him? 'Hey, thanks for doing at great job at fucking up that guy's face, I really appreciate it'?

With a sigh, you lock your phone, trying to kick the urge to converse with a vigilante to the curb. But before you know it, you're typing in your password again and sending him a 'Hey'.

You keep the chat open, but you make a point out of looking away from the screen, hoping that if you don't look, he'll reply faster. Minutes pass by, and you're slightly disappointed by the absence of the jarring pinging of your notification bell. Then you remember that he probably has a life outside of being Vigilante. He's most likely just a normal guy, with a normal job and friends and family, he probably doesn't spend all of his time checking whatever burner phone he uses to run the hotline.

Just as you're about to lose hope that he'll respond, your phone pings.

'Woah, hey. First timer's a second timer already? Did you get yourself into trouble just so you could talk to me? 🧜‍♂️'

It pings again, a few moments later.

'For the record, that was a joke. If you're in trouble again, I'm sure it's not your fault and I'm more than happy to help. Though I gotta remind you that I usually only do this hotline stuff on weekends, but I'd be more than willing to extend my hours. For you. What can I do for you? 🧜‍♂️'

You feel your face heat up, a grin beginning to creep across your lips as you read the two texts. 'For you'. That's oddly sweet. He's oddly sweet. You know what he's done, you know he kills people. You've heard the whispers around town, stories from the people who've been lucky enough break the law and survive one of Vigilante's attacks. Yet you can't help but be taken in by how... charming he is. Sure, this is only the second conversation you've had with him, but he's been so kind. Funny, too, in his own way.

The rush you get from texting him is intoxicating, and it only makes you want more. So you type out a response, and hit send.

'Nothing! I didn't get in trouble again. I wouldn't want you working overtime for me. But I did wanna talk to you. Just to say thank you for what you did for me. I saw Brett. You got him good. Gave him a real shiner of a black eye.'

Just a minute later.

'HA. Yeah. You should have seen it. He took a real beating. He cried like a fucking BABY. Begged me not to kill him. I made him apologise for harassing women, too. It was HILARIOUS. You were right about the beard, btw. Definitely makes him look even more of an asshole🧜‍♂️'

You're surprised to see a video loading up on your screen.

'He definitely didn't mean it, life or death situations call for desperate measures I guess. But at least you can laugh at him and his stupid fucking face. 🧜‍♂️'

Although you're hesitant to press play, you do so anyway. There, on your screen, is Brett. Beaten and bloody, begging for his life, and apologising through his tears for being a creep. Saying sorry for using bad pick-up lines, and objectifying women's bodies, and... groping asses on the dance floor. You freeze up when you hear that, a wave of panic washing over you. Does he... does he know that you're the one that sent Vigilante after him? Fuck. You didn't even consider the possibility that he'd put two and two together and figure out that it was you who texted in. You have to know if he knows, if Vigilante mentioned anything specific about why he went after Brett.

'You're right. That's funny. But I need to ask you something.'

'Anything! 🧜‍♂️'

'Does Brett know that I'm the one who texted you? Did you mention anything about me or what happened?'

You chew on your bottom lip as you await a response, and when you read his reply, you're more than relieved.

'Nah. I didn't say anything. I wouldn't. Vigilante-client confidentiality, and all that. He was the one that mentioned names. A whole list of them, actually. Kinda concerning how many women he named that could've been the one to contact me about him.🧜‍♂️'

'Okay. Cool. I guess I just never thought of the consequences of texting in. I didn't consider that maybe he'd know it was me. Had me kinda panicked for a sec.'

'Don't worry, I made it clear that if he ever tried to approach or contact you or any of the other women he named, I'd find out. And I'd kill him for it. You're safe. I got you. 🧜‍♂️'

For what feels like the hundredth time in, you find yourself smiling down at your phone as you read his text.

'Thank you. I appreciate that :). Hopefully you've taught him a lesson. Maybe he'll stay home when the weekend comes around. I think he'd be doing everyone a favour.'

'Hopefully! Listen, I gotta buzz. Work stuff. Not Vigilante work. I only do that stuff at night. Like my actual job kind of work. But I'll talk to you later, first timer. 🧜‍♂️'

'Yeah, of course. Sorry for bothering you while you're at work. And thank you, again.'

You take a deep breath before sending another text.

'My name is (Y/N), btw <3'

'First timer has a name? Fucking sweet. Obviously I know you have a name but you never told me, so in my head I've just been calling you first timer. But now you're (Y/N), which is cool. So talk later, (Y/N)! 🧜‍♂️'

'<3 🧜‍♂️'

You throw your phone on to the passenger seat, like it's burning hot to the touch and it's just scalded you. Did you... did you seriously just send a heart to Vigilante? And did he seriously just send one back? Wait, no. The heart isn't the biggest problem. You just told him your name. Your real name. What if he finds you? What if this whole funny-charming-kind thing is just an act, and you end up bleeding in a dark alley within a month?

"Fuck..." You mumble, leaning your head back against your seat, wondering what the hell you've just gotten yourself into. Wondering if you should just block his number and never think about him again.

It's a stupid idea, getting involved with someone like him. One that could leave you hurt, or dead. Anyone would call you crazy for it. You probably are crazy for it. But that's not enough to deter you from reaching for your phone and grinning down at it when he texts you later that night.

'Hey. 🧜‍♂️'

It's a dangerous game, but one that you're more than willing to play.

[venusvity]

Making her great return to the Waterbomb stage, Baebi gave a show stopping performance and drew in one of the largest crowds on Friday! Despite having one of the most viral performances, fans were confused why she didn't perform a single track off her latest solo release: PULL THE TRIGGER (AGAIN). Despite the debatable tracklist, Constellations were elated to see their "Waterbomb Princess" back on the stage!

.ﾟ۪ ♡ ۫     ( LOOK BOOK ! )    

.ﾟ۪ ♡ ۫     SET LIST !

GASHINA

OPENING MENT

DANCE THE NIGHT AWAY

TOP OF THE FOOD CHAIN

PICTURE

LIPLOCK

ENDING MET

BUBBLE POP!

.ﾟ۪ ♡ ۫     THE HOT RUNDOWN !

Oh, she was the talk of the town. You could not go online without seeing Baebi at Waterbomb 2024!

The setlist was a hot topic, truly. A lot of fans liked that it was a throwback, but also...They were just confused as to why she wasn't singing new stuff. At first, they thought maybe she didn't have the rights to the album since it was released under Flowerbank, but that just wasn't the case, as Mydol owns all of Venus' discography. So, like...What gives? Where's Baebi's Revenge? Where's You and Me? Where's—

Then the behind the scenes vlog came out and it all made sense. When I tell y'all, Son Jinhwa curated this entire performance from start to finish...I mean it. Down to the last second, it was his vision. He was barely even seen in Chloe's behind-the-scenes vlog, but you could see that man in almost every frame of Yoonah's. To the shock of no one, he picked out her outfit as well and even had the makeup artist redo her makeup before the show because he didn't like what she originally did.

So, yeah, no wonder there were no songs from the album where Yoonah had complete creative control and basically told him to kill himself. Yeah, Constellations did not like that realization. It got even worse when it was revealed Chloe got full creative control over her performance while Yoonah didn't.

But, despite all that, Yoonah had fun! And that's all that matters! She smiled the whole time, did amazing crowd work, danced like it was the last thing she was going to do, and kept her goodies from falling out the whole performance! She did great, guys!

BAEBI OPENING MENT TRANSCRIPTION: "What's up, Waterbomb? I'm your Baebi! Ah! I can't believe I'm back here! Oh my gosh! I missed you guys! Did you miss me?" Yoonah playfully leans toward the crowd and then laughs. "Sounds like it...I'm so happy to be here with all of you and to be wet with you guys! I hope you all enjoy this next song. It's been years since I've performed it, but I really like it, so...Get ready to–Okay, this joke won't really land because the sun is out, but–Get ready to dance the night away!"

After her performance, Baebi and the other Venus girls were spotted in the crowd for Fromis_9's set as well as Hyo's set! The girls are massive Girls Generation's stans and never miss a chance to see the members perform.

You could really tell Yoonah had a blast performing. She really loves her job, guys!

#BAEBIWATERBOMB would trend, and a fan cam of her set would reach 3.4 Million views in 24 hours. A massive hit with everyone! But that's nothing new for Miss Baebi!

.ﾟ۪ ♡ ۫     WAIT! TAKE A PICTURE !

[seijorhi]

Echoes

i am extremely late with this spooktober fic but... at least it's here ghfjdkfhgjf

i hope y'all like it! <33

Sano family x female reader

w.c 6.7k

tw: yandere themes, mentions of blood/gore, character death, supernatural themes, dub-con (kinda? not in a smut way tho)

There’s a reason why the asking price for the old house at the end of the lane is so cheap. 

Why it’s sat on the market for near-on three years, untouched. A reason why the real estate agent, with her perfect hair and painted red smile, falters ever so slightly when the topic comes up.

“Before you decide whether you want to submit an offer, you should know that this house it– it has… a history.”

In hindsight, perhaps it’s your own fault for not prying deeper. You didn’t want the details, the ghost story. With an inheritance you gained too young, and grief still too raw, you lied, and told her you knew. 

You liked this house, with the trees in the garden and its quaint little kitchen. 

What harm could the past ever bring?

—

“That’s the last one, yeah?” 

You nod, setting the box down in what will be your living room, “That’s it.” Your whole life, everything you own, packed up into boxes now scattered throughout the otherwise empty house.

Yuzuha sighs, rolling her shoulders as she leans against the kitchen countertop, surveying the mess that awaits you. Then, she glances back at you, “You sure you don’t want me to stay? I don’t mind helping build furniture or unpacking stuff.”

If you let her, she’d probably call up her brother and rope him into helping the two of you as well. Not that Hakkai would take much convincing. 

And while you can’t imagine that muddling through indecipherable assembly instructions or diving into the very same boxes she helped pack is anyone's idea of a fun Friday night activity, Yuzuha would do it gladly, without complaint. All night, if that’s what it took. 

If that’s what you wanted. 

You shake your head and offer her a small, tired smile, “Nah, you’ve done plenty, Zu. I appreciate it, really.”

She lifts an eyebrow, “You’re gonna spend the night by yourself in this big, empty house?”

“Considering I bought it, yeah, that was kind of the idea,” you laugh.

Yuzuha doesn’t look sold on the idea. Then again, she hadn’t been sold on the whole moving thing to begin with, and for that matter hadn’t been shy about telling you. But if there’s one thing you’re grateful for, it’s that despite that, she’s the last person who’ll ever tell you that what you’re doing is the wrong way to grieve.

And so she nods, pulls you into a close hug. “… Love you,” she whispers, and you squeeze her back just as tight. For a while, the two of you stay like that, neither saying a word. 

With Yuzuha, you don’t have to. 

Eventually, the two of you part and she makes you promise, hand in hers, that you’ll call if you need her. 

The house feels infinitely emptier once she’s gone. The bedroom you’ve taken up residence in has your bed set up at least, a suitcase stuffed with essentials and clothes for the next few days propped open by its foot. 

You order pizza for dinner because it’s easy, sitting cross legged on the floor of your new home with an open bottle of champagne that the real estate agent left. Tomorrow you’ll begin the task of unpacking and settling in, a slow process that’ll doubtlessly take days – tonight, you don’t have the energy.

So you sit, and eat, and stare. This house of yours feels different in the dark. The emptiness echoes, a yawning, gaping maw that feels as though it wants to swallow you whole given half the chance.

But this house is new. Unfamiliar. It won’t be forever – when the rooms are filled with light and music and the kitchen smells of freshly baked treats, and you remember which of the floorboards creak and where the sun shines through in the late afternoon, it’ll be home. 

And maybe one day you’ll fill these rooms with a family of your own, maybe you won’t. Maybe in a few years time you’ll come to the realisation that you’ve outgrown what you needed this house to be, and you’ll sell it to somebody else. A family, perhaps, with kids who’ll run down through the living room chasing each other, laughing and giggling. 

The thought is an oddly bittersweet one. 

For as bright and happy as this place used to be, you can’t escape the truth that something awful happened here. There’s a sadness that hangs thick and heavy in the air around you. Grief and pain etched into the very foundations. 

But you’re broken, too – hollowed out with emotions still too raw to touch.

There’s something about this house, though. Something that goes beyond the tragedy that haunts it. You’ve spent days trying to put a finger on what exactly it was that drew you here, and why you kept coming back to it no matter how many other properties you saw.

You wanted an apartment, or a small two bedroom place. Something nice, small – cozy. Easy to take care of and keep clean. Rather than any of that, you’ve somehow ended up with a place bigger than you'll ever need, with four bedrooms and a converted garage out back.

You take a slow sip of champagne, straight from the bottle because your glasses are yet to be unpacked. 

This house has good bones, it just needs a little life.

—

You wake with a jerk, gasping.

The dream – nightmare, you suppose – begins to fade, even as you reach desperately to grasp at its threads. The only thing you can remember is the feeling of coldness seeping through your body, and hands grabbing at you from all different angles. Holding you, touching you, petting you.

Your stomach turns as you scramble from your sheets. 

It’s been like this every night this week. You fall asleep tucked away under the warm covers and wake in a pool of sweat from horrid dreams that you can’t remember, panting like you’ve run a marathon. 

Forgoing the bathroom light, you reach for the faucet, cupping your palms beneath the cold water to splash it over your face. 

You wonder absently whether it’s worth the effort of having an actual shower. The sheen of night sweat still clings to your skin, sticky and uncomfortable. Gripping tightly at the edge of the sink, you exhale, staring at the drain as water swirls down, down, down. 

It was only a dream. 

Another shaking breath. 

Nightmares are nothing new for you, yet these ones seem to sink their claws into you. They’re harder to shake than the ones about the accident – dead faces staring back at you with unblinking eyes, a cold morgue, your father’s corpse whispering into your ear; your fault, your fault, your fault.

You shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut as if that will rid you of whatever lingering unpleasantness the nightmare imparted. 

Finally, turning off the faucet, you glance to the mirror on the vanity– and scream.

There’s a figure standing behind you; slight and tan, with wavy blond hair and red hanafuda earrings that dangle to his shoulders. His eyes, though– one violet pupil fixed on your reflection. Where the other should be there’s a gruesome, gaping hole of flesh, brain matter and blood that drips down the left side of his face like tears. 

A door slams somewhere inside the house, a shout piercing through the night and you jolt, screaming louder as you whirl, still clutching at the edge of the sink as if it’s a lifeline.

There’s no one behind you, though, and when you fumble for the light switch, heart pounding, your stomach sitting in your throat, there’s nothing but silence to greet you. 

—

“You know what this house needs?” 

Yuzuha, munching on the pastries she’d brought over for breakfast, eyes the room thoughtfully, “New curtains. A rug for under the coffee table, hmm… oh! And some indoor plants, too. They’d liven the place up a little, I think.”

Hakkai laughs, waving off her suggestion, “Nah– well, maybe, but that’s not where I was going with this. You’ve got that extra room shed thingy out the back, right?” You nod and he continues, “Right, well I think you should convert it into a super fancy guest room, and then when Yuzuha starts smothering me, I can come and stay here!”

“Hey!”

“You wouldn’t stay up here with me in the main house? There’s like a thousand rooms you could pick from.” 

“Well, no, I mean– I wouldn’t, um, I don’t–” he flashes a panicked ‘deer-in-headlights’ look at his sister, the tips of his ears turning pink, and you almost – almost – feel bad for the laugh that bubbles up in response.

“Relax would you? You guys practically offered to let me move in with you both, no questions asked. You can stay here whenever. I’m not sure about the space out the back, though. I’m thinking I might turn it into a studio, or a movie den or something?” You shrug, “I don’t know yet. Still figuring it all out.”

When you glance to Yuzuha, the strawberry blonde is already watching you, a fond little smile warming her features. Hakkai may be the model in the family, but there’s something infinitely lovely about the elder Shiba sibling when she looks at you like that.

“A movie den sounds great,” she says, “but there’s no rush. We can make this place perfect, however you want it.”

You grin back at her, lips parting to continue the conversation when goosebumps begin to dot your skin, a cold shiver rolling down your spine. In the space of less than a second, the temperature in your living room’s plummeted, a chill that seeps right down to your very bones. 

The windows are closed, though, there’s no breeze or draught blowing through to explain it. 

Yet if either Yuzuha or Hakkai notice, neither gives any indication. 

“–Hakkai’s shoot, so we can go on Monday or Tuesday?” Yuzuha’s looking at you expectantly. 

You blink at her. “Sorry, what?”

The faintest of frowns mars your friend’s pretty face, but it’s smoothed over in an instant as she rolls her eyes good naturedly. “Stop zoning out on me. I said Hakkai’s got a shoot over the weekend, so if you want we can go look for house stuff early next week.”

Ice trails down your neck, localised this time – like fingertips dragging along your skin. 

“Oh… yeah, that– that sounds good.”

Your smile is frozen. Tight. And while Hakkai is oblivious to it, flicking through his phone with one hand, chowing down on the ‘low cal’ salmon bagel Yuzuha had begrudgingly bought for him, his sister isn’t so easily fooled.

Critical eyes sweep across your face. The corners of her lips turn downward, and she opens her mouth only to close it, seemingly thinking better of whatever it was.

Yuzuha exhales softly, and reaches for your hand, squeezing it til you look at her properly. “You look tired, hun,” she murmurs quietly. “Are you sleeping alright?”

And for some reason, the innocuous question has your eyes prickling, a thick lump forming in your throat. But you smile (as best you can) all the same, and nod.  

“Y’know what else this place could do with? A dog. Or a cat. Either really – you’ve got the space for it.”

—

A little after midnight, 12:17 to be exact, the TV in the living room switches on.

The sounds of buzzers ringing like pinball machines and peals of laughter float under your door, you recognise the sound of the host’s voice – reruns of a popular game show you used to watch as a kid.

You pull the covers tighter around yourself, squeezing your eyes closed like that’ll stop the noise. Protect you, somehow.

The TV’s old, wires must have loosened or frayed in the move somehow. That can happen, right?

You’re not crazy.

You’re not. 

Ghosts aren’t real.

And when the door to your bedroom slowly creaks open, and muted, impossible footfalls  pad closer, your grip on the sheets tightens. 

Muscles pulled taut and trembling like a leaf, a cold bead of sweat trickles down your spine.

Ghosts aren’t real.

The other edge of your covers lift, and you tense, flinching at the breeze of cold night air that licks at your back. A whimper slips out, halfway to a sob, as the sheets rustle, your bed dipping under a phantom weight.

The cold you’ve since become familiar with settles over you once more. And still, you refuse to look. 

This has to be a dream. Another visceral nightmare that’ll fade the moment you wake.

“Go away,” you whisper, voice cracking. “Go away, go away, go away, go away–”

Down in the living room, the TV changes channels.

—

The sun is shining and your bedroom is blessedly empty when you pry open bloodshot, exhausted eyes. 

Not a pillow out of place, no sign of any late night visitors, corporeal or otherwise. It should be a relief, except the same cannot be said for the kitchen, for when you sleepily shuffle in, you find a blonde girl with honey eyes no older than you sitting on the countertop, idly swinging her legs.

Watching you with a strangely eager smile.

“About time you got up. I’d ask if you usually make a habit of sleeping this late, but I think by now we both know that you do.”

You freeze, eyes widening, heart pounding; a deer in headlights. 

She’s a petite thing, slender if not for her curves, and perched atop the counter and smiling as she is, she doesn’t appear threatening or violent. Appearances can be misleading, though, and the fact remains that there’s a stranger in your house, talking to you as if she knows you. 

Rooted to the floor on the outskirts of the living room, you’re wholly defenceless. There’s nothing within arms reach you can grab to defend yourself, and you can’t even threaten to call the cops – you left your phone back in your room. 

Nervous eyes dart around your living space. Is it just her, or are there others, too? 

You don’t know whether to scream, run, or stand your ground and demand she gets the hell out of your house. You can’t think, petrified of making the wrong choice, your breath coming quicker and quicker.

“I don’t bite, y’know. You don’t have to be scared.”

Screaming, you eventually decide. If you scream, she might get scared and run off, or someone else will hear and come and investigate. Before you can make so much as a squeak, however, the blonde shifts, leaning back ever so slightly – inadvertently placing herself directly in the path of the sunlight streaming into the kitchen. 

And your jaw falls lax.

The sun doesn’t spill over her features, casting them in a warm glow. The shadows don’t shift. 

Rather, that beam of buttery, golden light filters through her, as if she’s no more than smoke and dust. 

“You’re not… real.”

The girl tilts her head to the side, considering you for a moment. Then she laughs, hopping down off the counter. “No?” 

One blink, and all of a sudden she’s standing right in front of you, hand outstretched to touch your face. You jerk back reflexively, and she diverts her course, grabbing your wrist instead. Steadies you with an ice cold touch and laces her fingers with yours.

“I might not be alive anymore, that doesn’t make me any less real.”

It’s too much. Her touch and the closeness, the paranoia of the past two weeks. Hysteria bubbles up inside of you and you try to yank your hand free and scramble back away from her.

For a figment of a fractured imagination, the blonde’s grip is surprisingly unyielding. You wrench yourself against it all the same. 

“No, no, no, let me go–” you gasp, hot tears prickling at your eyes.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the hallucination says, a pout tugging at her full lips. “None of us will, Izana… Izana’s just–”

You never find out who or what Izana is or isn’t, because between terrified, rattling breaths and half choked pleas, a masculine voice calls out from nearby.

“Emma.”

The blonde – Emma? – heaves a long suffering sigh, rolling her pretty eyes. “Fine.” 

And in the blink of an eye, she’s gone.

—

You refuse to google the word ‘ghosts’.

Lost in the crowd wandering the busy streets of Tokyo with a coffee in hand, you reach a calm sort of clarity.

As far as you can tell, there are two possibilities; Either ghosts are real and your house is haunted, or you’re seeing things. 

Having never been one to put much faith in anything spiritual, logically, the second option makes more sense. You’re grieving still, exhausted from a lack of sleep and the stress of packing up your life and moving houses for the first time. Is it any wonder that you’re struggling to cope? Is it that much of a stretch to imagine that you’re seeing things, feeling things that aren’t actually there?

Except you don’t feel crazy. When you’re outside, away from home – on your bi-weekly trek to your parents grave, or when you’re out shopping with Yuzuha or picking up groceries, you don’t get that same sense of unease. You don’t see things that shouldn’t – couldn’t – possibly exist.

And things were getting better. You were getting better; the nightmares were easing. The guilt still ate away at you, yes, and you mourned for the loss of your parents, but it wasn’t that all consuming grief that crippled you before.

You’d felt that touch. That day in the kitchen with your friends, and again this morning. The girl, Emma, you’d felt her hand around your wrist, cold and impossibly strong, but real. 

Which leaves you with the possibility that you’re not imagining any of it. 

In any case, you can’t just bury your head in the sand and pretend this isn’t happening. You can’t hide away forever.

The house is quiet when you return. Still. Yet there’s an air of anticipation that stirs as you cross the threshold and set down your keys, like an arrow nocked and drawn, ready to be loosed. 

Wetting your lips and squaring your shoulder, you wonder if you’re a fool. You must be, yet you don’t see any other option. 

Breathing in deep, your lips part, “Emma? Are you there?”

You’re speaking to an empty room, and then, suddenly, you aren’t – the petite blonde girl appearing beside you.

Only this time, she’s not alone. Leaning propped up against the open entryway, arms folded across his chest, a tall, dark haired man meets your gaze.

There’s something decidedly familiar in the set of his features, the shape of his nose, but you’re spared from thinking too much on it when Emma squeals in delight, throwing her arms around you – oblivious to the way you stiffen and squeak under the cool embrace. 

“I knew you’d come around!”

“Emma.”

You recognise the deeper voice, having heard it only hours before. Your attention shifts to the other figure in the room. Older than Emma, with more than a passing resemblance; a brother, you decide, or a cousin.

Flat, black eyes peer back at you. Unsettling, despite the pleasant expression he wears. 

Emma huffs, drawing her head from your tensed shoulder to look at him, “What? I’m not doing anything wrong.”

A hint of a smile teases at his mouth. 

It’s a familiar look, you’ve seen a similar one on Yuzuha’s face whenever Hakkai tries to sweet talk his way out of doing things he doesn’t want to – chores, paperwork, what he deems to be ‘unnecessary’ meetings. The list is endless.

“Let her go and give the poor girl some space, would you? You’re overwhelming her.”

For a moment it looks as though she’s going to argue with him, but upon glancing back at you – noticing, probably for the first time the strained expression on your face – she relents, a petulant, “Killjoy,” muttered under her breath. 

Yet she doesn’t stray from your side, hovering close. “This is Shinichiro. He’s the oldest.”

It’s a surreal thing, being introduced to the ghosts of the people who used to live in your house. Stumped by what you’re expected to say in return (‘nice to meet you’ seems a little… inadequate, considering the circumstances), Shinichiro takes the lead, grinning as he pushes off the doorframe. 

“Not every day you meet a ghost, huh?” he asks. 

You decide against telling him that you’re still not positive this isn’t all in your head. 

“Not every day you move into a house that’s haunted,” you counter. You’d meant it as a joke, but the words come out all stilted and stiff, betraying your discomfort. 

Despite that, they seem to have their intended effect, something like amusement glittering in Shinichiro’s eyes as he chuckles lightly, “Lucky us.”

Your stomach twists. Joking or not, none of this feels right. Emma, clinging to your side like glue, seems enamoured already, and Shinichiro appears friendly enough, but none of that changes the past two weeks, your fear and terror, the sheer blinding panic you’d felt, waking up from nightmares you’re beginning to suspect weren’t so inexplicable.

A sudden thought occurs to you, and you turn to Emma, “Wait, you said oldest?”

She nods, “Mhm! Shin’s the oldest, but there’s four of us.”

“You’ve already met Izana.”

Met him? Confusion etches its way onto your countenance, and with a frown of his own Shinichiro hastens to add, “The asshole shouldn’t have scared you like that, he’ll apologise.”

Ah, you realise with an icy stab – the face in the mirror. The one you’ve spent the past week trying your best to forget.

… Emma had mentioned him before, hadn’t she. She’d known then, that her brother had scared you half to death that night. Both of them had. And yet he – Izana – hadn’t looked like they did. Save for the smoke-like translucence of their skin and the preternatural way they moved, appearing and disappearing at will, both Emma and Shinichiro could almost pass for human. Or alive, you guess. 

Izana had been something else entirely. A nightmare, bloody and horrifying… Why was he different?

“And then there’s Mikey, but he’s… well–” Emma hesitates, glancing at her older brother, who’s quick to step in.  

“Manjiro doesn’t do great with change,” Shin admits, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “But he’s coming around. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

Nope. This is too much.

“I-I think I need… I just need–” but the rest of the sentence won’t come, and so you shake your head and stumble for the couch, sinking down into the cushions moments before your legs give out entirely. 

Elbows braced on your thighs, staring vacantly at the wooden floorboards you shudder for breath. The air’s too thin, and your head’s spinning. 

Maybe you have lost it completely. 

“Hey, hey, breathe for me, yeah? I get it’s a lot to take in, but everything’s gonna be fine.”

There’s a hand on your back, stroking slowly. Emma pops into existence beside you, curling into your side like a cat. Her cheek falls against your shoulder, “It’s okay.”

—

You never do get that apology.

Izana’s different from Emma, from Shin. Different even from Mikey – Manjiro – the youngest brother having taken to silently glaring at you from the outskirts whichever room you occupy. 

(‘He just needs some time’, Shinichiro assured, patting you on the head.)

He appears in the windows, in your mirror. Always in the reflection, bloody and gruesome, hovering like a bad omen.

Then comes the cold that freezes you in place. And you’re forced to watch as he draws closer – touches you. Encircling your wrist at first, icy fingers trailing up your sides.

And then comes the hand that curls around your throat. 

He doesn’t squeeze. Doesn’t tighten his grip.

Izana smiles in the reflection, laying his ruined face in the crook of the very neck he’s toying with and you wonder if ghosts can hurt the living – truly hurt you.

You wonder if he can hear the frantic pounding of your heart. 

“I won’t leave,” you tell him one night, your voice trembling as he thumbs leisurely at your fluttering pulse. “You won’t scare me away.”

Izana snickers, and in the blink of an eye he appears behind you. Real, solid (or as solid as a ghost can be), wholly undamaged. Lips at your ear, violet eyes twinkle as they bore into your reflection.

“And what makes you think I want you gone?”

—

Another night, another restless dream that wrenches you back to consciousness. 

In the darkness of your room, you draw your knees up to your chest, curling into a ball as the tears – hot and bitter – well up and spill silently down your cheeks.

It wasn’t a nightmare, at least, not the kind you’ve become accustomed to. In it, you weren’t haunted by shapeless, faceless figures, but your parents. Dead and empty, cold to the touch. They’d stood on the road beside the wreckage, watching impassively as you cried and screamed, crawling over broken glass to reach them.

Your fault.

Shoulders shaking, your face buried in your knees, you don’t notice the temperature in your bedroom dwindling.

“What happened?”

With a sniffle, you lift your head to find that you’re no longer alone; Mikey sitting cross legged at the end of your bed, chin resting in his propped up palm. 

For once, he isn’t glaring. 

Too drained for anything other than acceptance, you shrug with another weak sniffle, “Just a dream, don’t worry about it.”

At his raised eyebrow, you sigh, slowly wiping at your tears. “There was a car accident a few months back,” you say. “My parents, they–”

“They didn’t survive.”

“No.”

Mikey tilts his head, “Were you there?”

The screech of metal bending and gasoline that burns up your nose. Your head throbs, pain radiating along your leg. Your mother’s body lying twisted on the road in front of you–

Fingernails dig into the soft skin of your palm.

“… Yeah.”

For a little while, Mikey doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t offer any comfort, and you don’t expect him to, but he doesn’t leave. 

You wouldn’t go so far as to say that it’s a nice moment, what with tears still quietly rolling down your cheek and your heart aching, but it’s something. Enough, maybe.

And then Mikey decides to speak. 

“You have no one left, then.”

You stiffen, blindsided for a moment by the callousness of the comment. Mikey’s own expression is decidedly neutral, and whether he meant it to hurt or not, the words are salt in your wounds, rubbing too deep, too painful to be ignored. 

Your eyes narrow into a glare, “I have Yuzuha. And Hakkai.” 

Yuzuha hadn’t spent weeks looking after you in the wake of your parents’ deaths, making sure you ate and slept and showered, keeping you from becoming a miserable, hollowed out shell just to be brushed aside like she’s nothing. The Shiba siblings are family, blood and DNA be damned. 

“They’re not your family,” he scoffs, scowling right back. “They’ll leave eventually.”

Resisting the urge to tell him to shut up, you instead fall back to the pillows, roughly yanking your covers up over your shoulder once more. “You don’t know anything,” you huff under your breath, the words more bitter than you intend.

You expect him to disappear then, or to double down on the cruel remarks. Mikey does neither, choosing to remain at the foot of your bed, his stare boring holes into you.

Whether it’s minutes or hours that pass, you couldn’t say, only that you’re on the verge of sleep once more when his voice breaks through the silence.

“I know what it’s like to watch your family die.”

Curled up on your side, gazing into the darkness, there’s an old ache inside of your chest that pangs, and regret washes over you. 

You’d asked Emma about it only once, tentatively broaching the subject after dinner one night. 

She’d gone silent for a long time, staring at the floor with wide, unseeing eyes. It hadn’t been until you’d gently called her name again that she’d snapped out of it, quietly admitting that there was a break in. Shinichiro had appeared a moment later and the subject was quickly dropped – you haven’t had the nerve to bring it up again since.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, and Mikey hums in response.

—

Things seem to settle after that.

You return to work, and though you’d never admit as much to either one of them, it’s nice to be around people other than Yuzuha and her brother. 

After the first day or two, your co-workers stop tiptoeing around you like they’re afraid you’ll break at the slightest touch, and start treating you how they used to. 

For the first time in a long time, you feel almost normal again.

You come to realise that you like coming home to Emma and Shinichiro – even Mikey when he’s not in a mood. You enjoy having company while you cook dinner, someone to listen to you talk about your day. 

Izana still takes perverse pleasure in trying to unnerve you of course, and Mikey hangs over you like a shadow (though he doesn’t glare so much anymore, which you count as a win) but the house feels more welcoming now that you know it’s not so empty.

You’re not a burden to them. Not a broken, pitiable thing. 

It’s enough, sometimes, to make you forget that you’re not the only one with hang ups from the past. 

The first time you come home late, it’s because your bus broke down halfway home, and you ended up grabbing a bite to eat while you waited for the next one.

You’re greeted by Shin, pacing in the living room, an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips.

(And maybe if he hadn’t looked so frustrated, you might’ve marvelled at the concept of a ghost smoking.)

“Where the hell were you?”

Both Emma and Mikey linger nearby, watching on as you drop your keys and purse on the counter top, toeing off your shoes. “There was an issue with the bus, it’s not a big deal.”

Well meaning or not, his attitude chafes a little. You’re a grown adult, you don’t need to be babied or coddled. You certainly don’t need to explain yourself to any of them – it was barely an hour. If you wanted to spend all night partying, or go out on a date, or stay back in the office working, you were perfectly entitled to.

Shinichiro isn’t your big brother, and you’re not a kid with a curfew.

Nevertheless, you apologise – if only to rid the awkward, strangely tense atmosphere that hangs in the air between you.

“Shin gets like that sometimes. After… everything that happened,” Emma explains later, seated atop your bedroom vanity. “He cares about you. We all do – we just wanna know that you’re safe, is that really so awful?”

You’re not the one being unreasonable, you know that, it doesn’t stop the slight twinge of guilt.  

The second time it happens, it’s because you’re dragged out for drinks after work to celebrate one of your coworkers birthdays. You stumble home well after dark, the taste of sake fresh on your tongue. 

Lips pursed, Shinichiro doesn’t say a word as you step inside and shut the door behind you, the lock clicking into place. He doesn’t need to – the disapproval rolls off of him in waves. 

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, your previous good mood all but evaporating under his scowl. “I didn’t realise it was so late.”

Which is a lie, technically, but what else is there to say?

This time, even Izana’s here, his countenance impassive save for the narrowing of his eyes – an expression matched across his siblings’ faces. 

The longer the heavy silence stretches, the more uncomfortable you become. You begin to feel a little like you’re on trial. “Next time I’ll call, o-or, I don’t know, I’ll leave a message somehow to let you know that I’ll be coming home late.”

“You don’t fucking get it, do you?” Shin snaps, and for one split second, you swear his appearance changes; blood flecked across pale, dead skin, a bullet wound at his temple, bone and blood and brain matter exploding on the other side–

You blink, though, and whatever you thought you saw is gone. 

Shin looks down at you, eyes uncharacteristically hard, his jaw set. “You don’t fucking get it,” he repeats quietly, shaking his head, and an instant later, all four of them are gone.

Feeling very much like a child chastised by your parents, there’s not much left to do but shower the day’s stresses off of you and head to sleep. 

The hot water helps. Tomorrow, you decide, you’ll apologise to him and talk, maybe set out some ground rules. You still don’t think you’re entirely in the wrong, but clearly this is a point of contention with him – with all of them, apparently – and it’s better to nip it in the bud.

Opening the shower door, you step gingerly out onto the bath mat, reaching through the steam for your towel. One moment, you’re upright, the next you’re careening backwards, arm outstretched–

You hit the ground hard, and scream as bone breaks. 

—

“I leave you alone for one week!”

“Zu, it’s fine! Would you please stop worrying?”

“You broke your arm!”

“There was water on the tiles, I slipped and fell, it happens, and I’m fine,” you stress. “The doc said a few weeks in the cast and I’ll be good as new.”

The unimpressed look Yuzuha gives you says more than words ever could. “You need to be more careful, hun. You could’ve hit your head, you could’ve seriously hurt yourself!” She sighs, nibbling at her bottom lip, “I just… I don’t wanna lose you, too.”

You smile at that, letting her pull you into a tight hug. Her lips press against your forehead and she holds you there for a minute, the familiar scent of honey and daisies tickling your senses. “You know I love you, right?” she mumbles against your hair.

“I know. I love you, too.”

Above you, the light fixture shatters.

—

A hand smoothes over your hair, a cold sensation tickling the soft skin of your cheeks. Blinking slowly, the world comes to, and you realise that once again, you’ve fallen asleep on the couch instead of your bed. 

“What time is it?” you croak, squinting up at the eldest.

“Late.”

You yawn, pulling yourself up into a seated position, “‘m sorry. Work’s been crazy this week.”

“I know,” he says. “You’ve been staying back a lot lately, and going in early.”

It sounds almost like an accusation. 

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you frown a little, “I know– I’ve just gotta get back in the swing of things. And the broken arm isn’t exactly helping, but it won’t be like this forever.”

Shin nods, but he’s not even looking at you, staring instead at the game show playing forgotten on the old TV, and your frown deepens, “I-is everything okay?”

His shoulders rise and fall, a heavy sigh falling from his lips. He turns to look at you then, and smiles.

You’ve seen Shin smile plenty of times before, but this one looks all wrong. Your stomach twists uneasily. 

“Yeah,” he says, “It’s gonna be just fine, I promise.”

Your neck snaps to the side with a sickening, final crack.

—

You’d asked Yuzuha once if she believed in ghosts.

At the time she’d brushed it off as idle curiosity and told you the truth; yes, she believed in ghosts and no, she’d never seen one herself.

‘Do you think that there’s such a thing as good ghosts, or –I guess ghosts that aren’t inherently bad?’ you’d pushed. 

Looking back on it now, Yuzuha wonders whether she missed something. She’s always been able to read you like a book, and it was strange, wasn’t it, that you’d pressed the issue? That you’d seemed so out of sorts, nervous, even.

But back then, you were only just starting to come back to yourself. She overlooked so much of it.

She’d told you then that ghosts only came about when people died with unfinished business, and that meant they were tethered here. Trapped. She’d told you that like any animal caught on a chain and left to rot, that made them dangerous.

The approach clicking of heels against wood draws her back to the present, and she turns to see the real estate agent pocketing her phone with a bright smile.

“Apologies, Miss Shiba.”

Yuzuha waves her off, “Don’t worry about it, it’s fine. Now, you were telling me about the history of the property?”

“Ah yes. I believe you’re aware that this home is a jiko buken?” Yuzuha nods, and the agent continues, “Well, about four years ago there was a nasty mess with the family who lived here, a murder-suicide, I believe. An awful, tragic thing.” 

Tragic was one way of putting it. 

After an hour or so of digging online, Yuzuha had found the full, grisly story on a true crime blog – backed up by links to leaked documents from the original police report.

The Sano children were orphans, raised by their grandfather after the untimely death (and abandonment) of their parents early in their childhood. The grandfather, Sano Mansaku, passed himself some years before, leaving the eldest, Shinichiro, to raise his three younger siblings: Izana, who it was later discovered was in fact adopted, Manjiro, also referred to as Mikey, and Emma, the youngest and only girl – Shinichiro and Mikey’s half sister.

Reports vary over what exactly caused the initial argument. The police suspect it might’ve had something to do with money or gang activity, as all three men had at one point or another been tied to various criminal groups. Another theory posits that the fight broke out after Izana’s true parentage was revealed.

In any case, it was deduced that a physical altercation broke out between Izana and Mikey and in the struggle Emma, likely trying to stop them from fighting, was shot on accident.

While the bullet missed her heart, it punctured her lungs. Even if emergency services had been called, there was no saving her at that point – the poor girl died within minutes.

Enraged by the death of his sister, police gathered that Mikey then shot Izana at a near point blank range, right through his eye. 

While both shots were heard by neighbours, neither the police nor ambulances were called to the scene. Nearly two hours later, the eldest Sano returned home from work to find Emma and Izana dead, Mikey still cradling his sister’s body.

With the knowledge that his family was destroyed, and that his only remaining brother would be lucky to escape the death penalty if he were to be arrested, Shinichiro killed him – either in a blind rage or as a brutal act of mercy – before turning the gun on himself.

Yuzuha swallows a bitter laugh. Murder-suicide.

The real estate agent, oblivious, sighs, “The property then sat unoccupied until a few months ago when it was purchased outright by a young local girl.”

“O-oh?”

Her heart pounds so violently against her ribs that she’s sure the agent must be able to hear it. She knows what’s coming, tries to brace herself as best she can. 

Hakkai had offered to come with her, his face ashen – almost green at the thought. He would’ve, though, if she’d said yes. 

Maybe she should’ve. It’d be easier, she thinks, to hear it with her little brother’s hand wrapped around hers. 

“Yes, unfortunately she too died on the property a few weeks back – an accident,” she hastens to clarify, as if that makes any difference. 

Bile creeps up her throat, and Yuzuha forces herself to nod, clasping her hands behind her back so the real estate agent won’t see how badly they’re shaking. “I see… Do you– do you mind if I take a look around by myself?”

“No, no, of course, feel free. I’ll be in the kitchen if you have any questions.”

Her footsteps fade away, and Yuzuha walks the familiar path into your bedroom. All your furniture’s gone, your belongings. The room’s empty now. Cold and lifeless.

This house of yours always had cold spots, a bitter iciness that crept up at the strangest times, freezing her right to her bones – like someone was walking over her grave.

Closing her eyes, Yuzuha breathes in deep, and waits.

It doesn’t take long for goosebumps to prickle, the tiny hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. 

“I know you’re here,” she breathes, eyes fluttering open – just as a cold grip seizes her by the throat. In one fell swoop, the door to your bedroom swings shut, the power surging ‘til it blows all across the house. 

Plunged into darkness, the room’s just as empty as when Yuzuha entered it, frost spreading across the window. Even her breath, choked and frantic, puffs out in clouds of vapour as she claws at the invisible grip. 

Distantly Yuzuha hears the real estate agent calling out to her, the door handle rattling uselessly. Locked. 

Cold breath washes over her neck, lips at her ear. The hand at her throat tightens. 

“She isn’t yours anymore. Get out.”

[mooncello]

What a fun Sunday so far. ⚡ thank you for the tags @bookish-bogwitch (LOVE seeing some of your writing process), @shrekgogurt (still haven't recovered from ch 13 of ikabikam in the best way possible), @emeryhall (happy anniversary!) & @you-remind-me-of-the-babe (anguished Baz is such a vibe fr).

For today's update:

Enter Niall & Dev.

Truly one of the most unexpected delights of writing this fic has been the insistence of Niall and Dev to show up and take a prominent role in the story. I adore them. I adore them as individual characters, and I love who they are for Baz.

Here's a little from chapter 2 of lost boys. This chapter will publish next week! I'm traveling this week, so I'll post once I'm back.

Under the cut because of length. It's a 30+ sentence Sunday, y'all.

Baz POV, 16 yo, year 12 (school).

Towards the end of lunch, I hear a familiar booming laugh across the canteen. I figure I have two minutes until impact. I tuck my sketchbook and pencils away and twist the lid back onto my thermos of tea. “Just a head’s up,” I say to Niall, who is still contently working away, “we’re about to be interrupted by the demon of chaos hims—” “Bazza!” There’s the solid thump of a hand against my shoulder and the dramatic collapse of tall, muscular limbs into the seat beside me. “My favourite nerd. How’s it going, cuz?” Dev flashes his white, perfect teeth at me before snatching my remaining bourbon biscuit. His fingernails are painted turquoise today, his dark hair is swept away from his face, and he’s wearing eyeliner. The bastard looks amazing. Despite being cousins, we never really hung out as kids. Always kept to different social circles. Which is to say Dev constantly had a roving pack of friends, and I had nobody (save for the lost boys in my dreams). But when I got outed this past spring, Dev decided to take a more active presence in my life. He even convinced me to join the football team with him. He’s charismatic and popular in his own way, and so unabashedly and loudly himself that even the nastiest bullies don’t bother him. It's been nice, having Dev in my life. Even though it means I now deal with his chaotic, abrasive personality all the goddamn time. “Dev, this is Niall.” I make a small sweeping motion to the boy across from us. Dev raises his chin in greeting. “New kid. Hey.” Niall smiles faintly. He looks rather disoriented. Possibly awestruck. I don’t blame him. Dev tends to have that effect on people. I’m almost envious of it. Another smack hits my upper arm. “Did’ya hear about practice this afternoon? Thirty minutes later than usual.” “Yes, I received the same team-wide notification, Dev, thank you.” Dev is now peering at Niall’s drawing tablet without shame, while continuing to talk to me. “A bunch of us are getting ice cream after the match on Friday. Wanna join?” “That’s a very solid maybe,” I tell him in a tone that communicates I’d rather eat grass laced with slug poison. I like playing on the pitch, but I’m not about to huff dairy with a bunch of footballer lads. “Great.” Dev stands, all six feet of him, and squeezes my top knot. I sigh and bat his hand away. Clearly I need to have another conversation with him about acceptable physical contact. “See you at practice then. Nice meeting you, Niall.” He’s off in a swirl of flair and overpriced body spray. “Sorry about him,” I murmur to Niall. I really hope he’s not scared off.

hellos & tags! xoxo

@thewholelemon, @best--dress, @facewithoutheart, @cutestkilla, @whatevertheweather, @artsyunderstudy, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @fatalfangirl, @youarenevertooold, @raenestee, @orange-peony, @ileadacharmedlife, @nightimedreamersworld, @rimeswithpurple, @iamamythologicalcreature, @shemakesmeforget & @arthurkko (your merwolves ... still thinking about your merwolves)

[adventuresasmrsfindley]

I finished both books I was reading today! They were really good. Every Last Secret fell a little short for me at the end so I gave it 4/5 and The Glass Castle 5/5!

For some reason like 3 days ago my less than a year old iPhone 15 basically stopped holding a charge. It drains so incredibly fast now and idk what happened because it was fine and I never had to charge throughout the day and now all of a sudden I need to multiple times. Super annoying!! But anyway I wasn't on it like at all today because of that so I spent all my free time reading. Crazy what you can accomplish when you step away from TikTok 😂

Finished up school supply shopping today. Can't believe we are back to that routine in about a week. I'm ready but also not. Ready to have my peace and quiet back throughout the day!! Not ready for the fight that is waking up my child early.

Cole and I are going to a concert this Friday night so I was trying on some outfits tonight. I think I decided on what I'm going to wear. 4 days in advance. This is anxiety 🤘🏻

Knox is going to camp with my parents at a lake near us in their new RV (can't remember if I posted about this?? But my parents own an RV now lol it's nicer than my house so that's fun) and then we will meet up with them on Saturday! Hoping for some nice weather and a fun day outdoors to send off our summer.

Off to start a new book now! Hope y'all had a good Monday.

[thorns-and-rosewings]

Wow... We've reached part 6 of this thing, the Reaper King AU 💀. I will be honest, this is the most I have written in years... Writing used to be the one thing I couldn't stop myself from doing... but... Somewhere along the lines I lost my passion for it. This is the first time in AGES I have had so much fun doing the thing that I love. And I gotta say I hope y'all are enjoying reading this half as much as I enjoy writing it :)

TW: As per usual, this touches on some darker topics. So you've been warned.

Part 6

-It takes KC a while to truly figure out how to use the App properly... But he gets the hang of it eventually.

-Although he does get a few more 'Old Man' jokes from Bloodmoon as he's figuring it out.

-The fact that he's a robot having trouble figuring out a dating app is not even acknowledged though.

-The conversations between KC and the Ranger, whose name is Harper (Yes, I have finally figured out their name and their a very tomboyish young woman in her early 30s with brown hair and emerald green eyes.) are very casual and friendly. Mostly talking about shared interests.

...Movies...

-The Friday the 13th movies are underrated along with the Nightmare on Elm St series. The original Jurassic Park movies are timeless. Godzilla movies are wonderful and best enjoyed in a large screen setting like with a projector or at a drive in.

-And to this day no one has a clue what the hell was up with Halloween 3.

KC: Honestly some of the B rated horror movies are better than the big budget movies nowadays... More entertaining.

Harper: Preaching to the choir, completely agree :)

...Pets...

Harper: I'm a dog person, I had a husky up until recently... Sadly she passed and I just haven't had the heart to get a new one yet. Not to mention my job; I would have to get a pretty well behaved dog to have it out here.

KC: I have one dog (Petting Muerte, the Moon Wolf alpha) but I take care of a lot of others... My eldest has a dog as well.

...he watches as Bloodmoon is having a full tug-of-war with a bone in his mouth with the two headed/deformed wolf that he has named HunterKiller...

KC: Completely reflects how he is as a person...

...Hobbies...

-As it turns out Harper has a love for legends, myths and all sorts of tall tales especially stories about cryptids. She's obviously extremely outdoorsy and would rather spend her life hiking the trails than sitting in front of a computer screen. The pay for working at the park she is currently working in is also really good... Probably because they can't seem to keep employees long term.

KC: Aren't you scared? There's a lot of disappearances in this area...

Harper: I am not gonna lie, I have... Seen some stuff. In the mists. I think... Eh, you probably won't believe me.

KC: You would be very surprised what I would believe.

Harper: I... I... think I encountered some of the forests cryptids once. I was out hiking and... Just these two forms amongst all that mist. I just froze... Then backed away and ran.

KC: I believe you. Strange things live out here... Were you afraid?

Harper: Well yeah... But... I always kinda had the theory that if you were respectful and left the cryptids alone... They'd leave you alone. I saw them, or at least thought I did, and I backed up and left the area. In kind of a hurry I admit... But I am not one of those people who go out looking for trouble. And judging by the fact that I am still alive, I think that theory might hold water.

KC: That's a good philosophy... I don't think it's completely accurate. But a very decent way of looking at things.

Harper: What's your theory?

KC: That it's nothing personal.

Harper: ?

KC: These cryptids hunt and kill indiscriminately. It's nothing personal to them. It's like a wolf hunting a deer... Maybe they have some scruples about what they hunt, but whatever they do kill... it's nothing personal. Respecting their domain won't always save you, but you'll probably live longer than most.

Harper: ...

KC: ?

Harper: And that is why I would rather deal with cryptids, monsters and legends than live in a concrete jungle amongst other humans any day.

-That one made Killcode smile.

...Family...

KC: I have a big family, all adopted and brought together by odd circumstances... My eldest is a young adult. My second eldest is a young teenager and it shocks me how mature he is. As he's definitely more mature than his older brother. Then my first daughter, she's growing so fast. She's so protective of her siblings and even me. Then there's my twin boys, who are a pair of mischievous little gremlins. Then there my four year old, she's very shy. Clings to my eldest like glue, which is surprising because he can be abrasive. And then there's my youngest, only a few months old now. But I can already tell she's going to be an energetic little hellion when she gets older. I love them all so much ♥️

Harper: Wow

KC: Is there a problem?

Harper: No no, just... Are they okay with you dating? I know sometimes kids don't like their parents dating. I don't want to upset your family.

KC: Actually they set this account up for me.

Harper: Oh ok. But based on your description they sound wonderful

KC: Do you have any family?

Harper: ...not really, I was an only child. My parents passed away in a car accident. No aunt's, uncle's, cousins or anything. I'm just kinda here by myself. Some friends actually made this account for me as a joke about a month ago. And... You're the only person who has had any interest in talking to me here. I was thinking about deleting this thing just before you started talking with me.

KC: Funny how the world works.

Harper: Is it nice?

KC: What?

Harper: Having a big family like that?

KC: It's the greatest joy in my life. There are times we disagree and argue, yes. But being surrounded by the ones you love the most and who love you back... There's nothing comparable.

Harper: Sounds lovely

-They talk back and forth like this for a few weeks. Before they finally opt to meet and go on a date.

...the date...

Upon KC's suggestion they are going to go on a hike on one of the shorter, but still challenging trails. One of Harper's favorites. He states that he'll be bringing her a red rose, so she will know who he is. She stated he didn't need too, but KC insisted. Harper actually gets to the beginning of this trail a little early and is quite nervous... Will they get along well in person? Will he like her?

...she didn't notice the approach of the towering 9ft tall creature garbed in a cloak, with a large glowing red core upon his chest until he was standing right next to her... She turns to see Killcode right next to her, but before she can do anything at all-

He holds out a single red rose. 🌹

There was a moment where the proverbial hamster fell off the wheel in Harper's head... But after a long moment everything finally caught up with her and she realized exactly what was going on.

Harper: Oh um... Hi...K...C?

Killcode: (Awkward smile)

They begin that hike... At first things are a bit tense and more than a little awkward. But they do begin talking, KC assuring Harper this isn't a trick or trap or anything... Harper asks a few questions of her own. But things become less tense. After a bit, things gradually go from being tense to calm, to friendly... And about an hour into the hike they are conversing like friends.

By the time they reach the halfway point of the hike, the moon has risen into the sky and any lingering awkwardness has completely evaporated and they stop and just look at the nights sky.

Harper states this is the best date she's ever been on...

KC points out that this is the only date he's ever been on...

They both laugh. Although KC starts to turn his gaze towards the forest more and more as they continue on the second half of the trail... Until he finally stops and crosses his arms. Looking at something that Harper cannot see.

KC: Young lady... Is there a reason you're following us?

...wordlessly Wisp emerges from the forest, bathing the entire area in a soft blue glow. Harper cannot help but stare at the little girl that is made of flames before her. She floats up and sits in KC's arms, allowing him and Harper to see the thing on her neck.

Harper: Is that... Is that one of those little cameras people put on their cats?

KC: (Gets horrified) Bloodmoon did you put a cat spy camera on your little sister?!

(Elsewhere Bloodmoon and the others slam the laptop closed)

...It wasn't until just before sunrise, after Harper had finally finished cleaning up the station that it really dawned on her at that moment that she is now dating one of the most feared local cryptids.

Harper found the situation both adorable and hilarious... And she admittedly was trying to avoid laughing too hard at the sight. But Wisp looked Harper up and down before moving in close and whispering to her father.

Wisp: I like her. She has a kind heart.

The girl then disappeared back into the forests from whence she came... While KC muttered about how Bloodmoon was going to be in sooo much trouble when he got home.

Rather than their date simply ending at the end of the trail, Killcode actually accompanies Harper back to the Ranger Station... Which was beneficial because much to Harper's dismay, those racoons had returned and had promptly locked her out of the cabin again. And the sounds of chittering and ransacking of the fridge can be heard even from outside.

Harper: (Growls) Evil little trash pandas...

KC: Maybe I can be of some assistance here?

Harper: If you wanna try, but they're tricky little things... The last time they locked me out I had to sleep in my Jeep. This time I am just going to go get the ladder and get in through the upstairs window... Which I started to leave open delibrately to handle these raccoon invasions.

Killcode says nothing as he walks towards the door and actually phases through it... Everything grows eerily still for a moment, before the loud, booming voice of Killcode echoes through the area like cannon fire.

KC: GET OUT!!!!!!!

Immediately the door flies open and at least a dozen raccoons run out... With their high pitched and fearful chittering sounding far more human than Harper can recall hearing before... Hell she swore she heard something along the lines of 'How were we supposed to know she was the mate of the Reaper King?!'

...yeah she's thinking too far into it...

Still KC just calmly unlocked the front door and walked outside. Expressing that he had a wonderful time tonight and would love to do this again. Something Harper happily agrees too...

They make plans to meet up again in the coming days. Before KC bids her good night and he retreats back into the forest so quickly that he just seemed to vanish...

...and she is perfectly fine with it :)

[turtletaubwrites]

Hello there! Below the cut is a short, grumpy vent about my current health fiasco 😠🤕

Lol, please don't join my pain! I won't be offended if you don't read it. I just need to let it out before I waste all my spoons trying to yell at doctors.

(cw: hospital, medication, psychiatrist, financial struggles, potentially dangerous side effects, lack of sleep)

So hella nurses, my pharma doc, and myself have been waiting all day (actually since Friday when we sent the FIRST urgent message 🙄) for my psychiatrist to approve me tapering off my med that saved me 3 years ago, but has also apparently been making life awful and now dangerous.

I really should go to the ER. I'm packed and ready, but I'm waiting on this guy to tell me to or not, because I can't afford it. I booked an appointment with my primary care, but it's not until the 18th, and she's out of the office so I can't ask if she can squeeze me in.

Soo, here's hoping he stops ghosting half the psych department long enough to tell me if my reaction is the extra special kind it looks just like that could potentially blind me (or a few other fun things) 🤦🏼‍♀️

(Actually taking sick days too, but I found out my company is going bankrupt at the end of the month, so who knows if I'll actually get paid. They've been 2-3 weeks late on paying every other paycheck for months now 🤷‍♀️😩)

(Again y'all, ilysm, but please don't send me money for this! I'll be okay, I'd rather you donate it! 🙏🏼💜)

According to the fitbit, I got 2 hours and 58 minutes of sleep last night. It felt like less while I debated the costs of waiting another day to see a doctor when my body is doing bad things to itself.

I'm so tired. Just wanna write... but 😠😠😠😠😠

~ Lynna 💜

[myown-worstenemy-2003]

Little Notes - Girl Crush

A/N: Hey y'all! This is the first little fic/drabble/thingy? in the Little Notes collection! I got this idea while I was driving home from work the other night XD It's a little different than what I usually write, but I hope y'all enjoy it because I really had fun writing it! PS: Pretty please don't copy my work! I worked very hard on this and I will cry! Thank you! :) <3

Word Count: 731

It was a Friday night. Campaign night. You would think this would be happening at the school in the Drama Room. But it had been booked since the Drama club had a play they had to rehearse for so they needed it. So here they were, in Dustin’s living room. Even though it wasn’t the same, it was still awesome. The only thing was, Eddie, need some paper to take some notes.

“Henderson, got any paper I can borrow?” he asked. The boy in question looked over at him from where the group was discussing.

“Yeah, I got some in my room. Give me a sec-” he moved to stand. 

Eddie interrupted him, “No, I got it. Don’t forget, ladies and gentlemen. There’s is no shame in running.”

And with that and a wicked grin he went in search of any type of paper he could find.

Eddie was trying to remember which door it was and he was pretty sure it was the second door on the left until he wasn’t so he went with the second door on the right. 

“Damn it,” he whispered as he came face to face with a towel closet. He closed it. Was it the first door on the left? Yeah, that’s it. He opened it and there he stood facing a room that looked nothing like he thought a 15-year-old boy’s room would look like. It had (F/C) painted walls with a matching bedspread. He knew he shouldn’t be in here, but he didn’t want to leave. He knew exactly whose room this was. (Y/N) Henderson’s room. Eddie had had the biggest crush on (Y/N) since elementary school. But was too much of a pussy to do anything about it.

“That is such bullshit!” he heard from Dustin. They were still in the middle of a heated argument. They wouldn’t miss him too much if he just took a peek around. 

He looked around at her books, posters, pictures of her friends and family, little knick-knacks, cassettes, and records. Then he looked over at her bed to find some stuffed animals that looked to be her favorite, a blue teddy bear and what looks like a handmade panda teddy bear. What he didn’t expect was a book open on her bed. 

Eddie being the curious cat he was, had to have a peek.

Eddie sat there for a minute. He didn’t know what to think. (Y/N) had a crush on him and thought he was dating Chrissy Cunningham? 

Chrissy and he were hanging out because they both have devastating crushes on girls and don’t have the guts to tell them. He never thought in his life that he would be assumed that he was dating her though. But the biggest alarm that finally made his heart leap and his mouth twitch as cliche as it sounds, was that (Y/N) Henderson was jealous that she couldn’t have him because he was “taken”.

“EDDIE!” a yell came from the living room. 

“I’m coming!” he yelled back. He stood there for a couple more seconds, he put the diary/journal back on her bed and with the confidence of a thousand men walked into the living room.

“So travelers, what have we decided?” he said grinning. Thinking about how he was going to ask you out when you got home later tonight.

[bangers2]

Weekly Music Roundup 5/7/24 :D

Hey! I hope y'all had a great week. I've been super busy as of late since I'm packing and preparing for a long trip, but I still managed to squeeze some listening into my miserable daily Walmart visits. I didn't keep with the daily schedule, but I have many albums to get through on the 12-hour drive that I will probably be on when this is posted. Good times!

This week, I listened to:

underscores - Wallsocket (Director's cut)

Everyone Asked About You - Everyone Asked About You - EP

Tinashe - 333

English Teacher - This Could Be Texas

Syzy - The weight of the world

underscores - Wallsocket (Director's cut) (2024)

I started my Friday out by listening to the new Wallsocket deluxe “Director’s cut” tracks. Holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit. These new tracks, albeit mostly familiar to me ("My guy (Corporate shuffle)" and "Northwest zombie girl" can both be found on Wallsocket ARG websites, and April teased "Stupid (Can't run from the urge)" on Tiktok), are absolutely breathtaking. "My guy (Corporate Shuffle)" is a wonderful throwback pop song that has a simple shuffling beat, but by the end of the song it goes absolutely insane. "Northwest zombie girl" is super fun as well, but not my favourite upon first listen. I think i need a little more time with "CCTV" to really get it - these are my initial thoughts and not full reviews, and I still need to deep dive into this one's lyrics. However, the standout has GOT to be "Stupid (Can't run from the urge)." "Stupid" is a cute glitch-pop track with the punchiest percussion I've ever heard in a song. This might sound kind of weird, but each time I hear the kick I feel a kick in my chest. It's epic. The melodies are incredibly earwormy and I haven't been able to get the song out of my head. Overall, this new "Director's cut" builds upon an already incredible record (SERIOUSLY. Listen to Wallsocket if you haven't already. It's insane) with even more well-produced, well-written, well-sung, bangers. I wish anyone listening to Wallsocket for the first time "Good Luck!"

Everyone Asked About You - Everyone Asked About You - EP (1997)

We love a 4-track EP moment. I saw one of my AOTY mutuals give this a 100 so I listened to it because I had a free moment, and 4-track EPs are, like, my favourite thing ever. This is a cute set of twee / emo love songs with sugary melodies and adorable lyrics. It’s wholesome and loving and absolutely gorgeous throughout!

Tinashe - 333 (2021)

I can't recall a time I've ever been this excited about an artist as I have since I heard my first Tinashe song. Her artistry is unmatched and I seriously admire her refusal to adhere to basic cookie-cutter r&b, instead embracing a really unique and eclectic style. She’s been so consistently making some of the most innovative music in the industry, so it’s no surprise that 333 is as excellent as it is. This is a really solid addition to her discography, and while I think BB/ANG3L is a stronger record, 333 still shines. There's so many moments on this album that set it apart from other albums from similar artists. She explores so many different sounds and vibes on here - everything from breakbeats on "Shy Guy" to dance-pop on "The Chase." I'm so happy Nashe is getting more recognition these days; she really deserves all her flowers!!

English Teacher - This Could Be Texas (2024)

I first discovered English Teacher in August or September of last year, when their song "The World's Biggest Paving Slab" appeared on my Youtube recommended. I had that song on LOOP for months after that - it was just so damn good. I didn't really keep up with ET as a band in the months between "Paving Slab" and This Could Be Texas, their debut record. I saw it on AOTY when it first came out and was strangely, really scared to give it a listen. So I put it off way more than I should've. I guess a part of me was afraid that this album wouldn't live up to my expectations only hearing "Paving Slab.' But god damn did they deliver. Suffice to say this very much DOES live up to my expectations. There are so many diverse sounds and themes being explored here, all while going incredibly hard. The vocals are excellent, and the melodies are all so memorable. It's an ambitious album and it's clear that they've mastered their craft already, one album in. Ughhh it's so good. There's more exciting moments like the aforementioned "The World's Biggest Paving Slab" and "R&B," slower and gentler cuts like "Sideboob" (my FAV!!), and really fun synthy cuts like "Not Everybody Gets to Go to Space," which while being my least favourite, still sticks out to me! If that's the lowest point on your album, you have a damn good album. I'm so glad I mustered up the courage to finally listen to this, and I will eagerly await what other lessons my English Teachers will teach on their next record.

Syzy - The weight of the world (2024)

I want to start this blurb out by saying that riddim is NOT my forté. I am totally unfamiliar with the conventions of the genre and how this holds up compared to Syzy's contemporaries. That being said, this shit is heavy as fuck. I went into TWOTW totally blind, with no prior knowledge of what kind of music Syzy makes. All I knew was that there was a kmoe feature.

Each track is so intricately put together, with really delicate nuances and details hidden beneath the layers. This is an album that demands every ounce of your attention. I tried listening to this while reading a book (usually goes well, even with really loud shit) and I could not focus on the book at all. There is no way to tune this out. That being said, you won't want to tune this out. You will sit down and listen to TWOTW and you WILL enjoy it. There's something to like about this record for everyone - not just those who normally jive with this type of music. The melodies are incredible and the buildups and drops are immaculate. The production is so detailed, with flourishes here and there that keep you engaged. Not to mention the kmoe feature is phenomenal.

"HEART123" features a gorgeous, euphoric melody, and great vocals from Kale. The first drop took my breath away (as many moments on this project did...I need an inhaler), and the energy was infectious. Same goes for "Take my energy!", an obvious standout and definitely one of the best tracks I've heard this year. What the fuck? I'm headbanging so damn hard. The outro is one of the gentler passages on the record, giving you some breathing room before you're thrown back into the fun with "Caught up (in circles)" - a track that sounds like exactly that: spinning rapidly in a circle. That's my favourite 3-track run on the record, but I could go on and on about the track continuity like this. TWOTW manages to find a wonderful balance between soft, ambient sections and visceral yet euphoric drops. There's buildup and release. Inhales and exhales. Ups and downs.

This is starting to exceed my usual "short review" length and I'd really rather not make this a wall of text. I'll probably write a longer review for this record because HOLY SHIT??!?!??!!? But all in all, I think The weight of the world sees Syzy making some of the best electronic music out there. It's explosive and euphoric, with passages that both take your breath away and breathe life back into you. It's an insane effort and I'm definitely going to delve into more of their discography in the future. Wow, I love dubstep.

Okay! And that concludes my weekly first listens. I may or may not post next week - I'm going to be really busy and might not have time to write these. Nonetheless I'll try my best. See you soon and I hope you all have a great week :]

[creations-by-chaosfay]

On Monday, I'll be back to handquilting. I want Star Story finished before the end of July. After that, I'll be focusing on building my shop inventory and having fun. Seeing as it's just me making a bunch of small quick projects at whatever pace I fancy using whatever colors and prints I want, I think this will be quite easy.

The quilting frame will be arriving hopefully by Friday. Practice will begin after I finish handquilting. I already know what quilts I'm going to practice on first, and both of them are for me. Hmmm...

Question for fellow quilters! For you think taking a longarm class. In person or online, will help? My machine will be treated like one with the frame, after all. I just need to get free-motion quilting down, and I think I'll be good after that.

My husband had a job interview yesterday, and it went really well. It looks like he'll be going in for a second interview in a few days, and we're both hoping he gets the job. It's dishwashing job, and he genuinely wants it. Doctors have told him he cannot work stressful jobs because of his health (hypertension, diabetes, high blood pressure), and washing dishes is a very low stress job.

I'll be chilling out this weekend, and wearing earplugs most of the week. Fireworks are a nightmare. I genuinely hate 4th of July celebrations. It wouldn't be so bad if people didn't set off fireworks all over the street. I have to cover the windows as soon as the sun starts hinting at setting; fireworks are like strobe lights and have resulted in some really bad seizures. Then there's the fire risk, with all the dead trees left from the ice storm, and a lack of rain.

I hope y'all have a good weekend.

[nerdvanacrafts]

Fan Expo Chicago 2024 Recap!

Ta-da! The Fan Expo recap is finally here! Sorry it took so long, but there was a lot to cover. I hope you enjoy!

So, first and foremost, the trip down there was relatively uneventful. Except for some construction and my GPS taking a nap en route to the hotel, I managed to get around just fine. Check-in went very smoothly, and I chilled in the hotel for roughly half an hour (it was a long drive for me, y'all!) before heading over to the con.

Parking at this venue was...a nightmare. On Friday evening (like 4pm), it took me 10 minutes of circling the parking garage in search of a spot before someone finally came to redirect us to overflow parking. Saturday was by far the worst day, which I feel is fairly normal for most conventions, but this felt....excessively underplanned. Not only did it take me 45 minutes to get from my hotel to the venue on Saturday (hotel was a mile away for the record), but it also then took me roughly 10ish minutes to walk across to the other side of the garage to get to the crosswalk for the venue. And it was very hot that day. Like 80s-90s Fahrenheit hot, and humid af. It was like walking through soup. Sunday wasn't nearly as bad. I still had to park in the sticks, but it was the closest of my parking spaces for the weekend.

Now for the actual fun stuff:

The first step of getting inside any location is figuring out where everything is, right? So that's what I did. Once I got my badge and got in, I spent most of Friday orienting myself on the venue's layout. Because it was huge. And not just huge, but also packed almost elbow to elbow with people. There were, quite frankly, too many people in too small a space. Honestly, I was thankful for the water bottle hanging off my wrist because it kept most people at bay. Anyway, the first place I went to was, of course, Artist Alley! Since I’m not artistically gifted, I love seeing what other people can draw and create. I spent most of Friday wandering the artist alley looking at what everyone had to offer. I had to make several loops though because it was so crowded and some booths were really popular, so I had to come back to ones I was interested in.

The most surprising thing I discovered in my wandering was a booth run by an artist I know of! I got to meet the lovely LeonDoodlez, who does amazing work (please go have a look at their socials) and who I know from another artist I help mod for. We had a good chat while I was picking out prints, and I ended up going back later in the weekend to get more from them. They are a lovely human, please go show them some love; they truly deserve it. Here are some of the prints I got from them:

Since there weren’t really any panels of interest to me on Friday, I decided to bump one of my autographs to that day and it was a very good decision. Despite having to wait in line for roughly an hour (I sat on the floor for a good chunk of that), because they had to go do photo ops while we waited, I did get to meet Alan Tudyk and have him sign my Firefly sketchbook. He gave a good hearty chuckle at me telling him that I was going to bring two dinosaurs to say hello but one of them ate them on the ride down, so he was in timeout. (It’s a Firefly reference, for those who don’t understand.) And despite saying I had to keep an eye on those silly dinos, Alan did also say it was a good thing I was, instead, keeping an eye on the road since I was driving by myself. We had a good handshake, I thanked him for being there, and then I went on my merry way. Had to keep the book open for a little bit to let the ink dry, but I pretty much did one more small pass through the exhibitors hall and then headed back to the hotel for the night. (I had to shower both nights because egads…turns out the AC was broken up until Sunday, and even then, it didn’t feel like it was doing any good. But I wasn’t going to meet people smelling like I did.)

Saturday! Saturday, I met up with some Twitch friends! Another pair of lovely humans, ThePhoenixPath and PunkleNix, both variety streamers (please go check them out both here on Kofi and on Twitch!). Phoenix brought her kiddos with her, and this was the first event of this kind they all had been to, so it was a bit overwhelming for them. Once we got inside, I kind of let them wander around and followed behind to both help keep an eye on the kiddos, and to let them experience the chaos. We met some wonderful and amazing cosplayers who took the time to talk through some of their process with the kiddos, one of whom is interested in cosplay themselves, and overall, I think everyone had fun. They did have to leave about halfway through due to overstimulation, which I completely understood (seriously, that shoulder-to-shoulder crowding was worse on Saturday). We hugged and said our goodbyes, and I made a snap decision to get a surprise gift for my sister, for which I stood in line for roughly another hour. But I made some line buddies, had an idle chat here and there, and got what I came for. Then I went up to the main theater floor to have some food and chill for a bit before the cosplay contest.

You probably don’t know this about me, because I don’t post about it much, but I love cosplay. I can only wish I had the time and energy (and money, let’s be real) to put in the work some of these cosplayers do for their outfits. They are stunning and I am in a constant state of awe at seeing just what can be accomplished. While I was having my chill time, the entrants for the cosplay contest started to gather and pretty much all of them were phenomenal. (I really only stopped one because I didn’t realize she was in the contest until I saw everyone else lining up.) Plus, once the line for the previous panel had gone inside, we were allowed to line up for the next one, which was the cosplay contest, so I gathered my things and parked myself in the line. And because I had roughly 45 minutes to wait again, I sat down with most everyone else who came early. I ended up making small talk with the pair in front of me (shoutout to Becca and Rachel, wherever you are!) and they even offered me some of the fudge they had bought. The mystery flavor tasted like candy corn, even though they had said it was supposed to be marshmallow, and I needed something to get the taste out of my mouth! Anyway, they also let me sit with them for the contest and showed me some highlights from the Twilight musical parody from the night before (apparently it was hilarious). I won’t spam you with the photos from the contest, because there’s a lot, but if you’re interested, feel free to DM me and I’ll send you a link.

Another shower and night of sleep, and I was back at it on Sunday. I’d like to say Sunday was by far the chillest day of the con, and I guess in a way, it was, but also…all I did was stand in line for five hours…You may be wondering why.

Well, half of the reason for me taking this trip was to get a very particular gift for my sister. An autograph from one, Neil Newbon, the voice actor of Astarion from Baldur’s Gate 3. That was my entire Sunday, y’all. Again, I made some line buddies, chatted about the wait and how ridiculous the line was (and how it had been like that all weekend), and eventually parked my butt when he went off to do photo ops for an hour. Now, I could’ve done what some of my line buddies did in that hour, which was to ask to have my spot held and go get another autograph, but I didn’t, and in doing so, missed the other one I had planned for. The good news, though, was that I was able to at least get a refund, so I didn’t exactly lose money because they had left by the time I got there. And I made up for it by getting myself an autograph from Neil for having endured the gauntlet, as I’ve now heard it called.

My interaction with Neil was far more lowkey than I had expected, but through no fault of his. As someone who had also been there the entire weekend (and probably got better sleep), I understood his demeanor fully. He looked and sounded as tired as I felt after five hours of standing/sitting in line. He’d also strained his voice from what I heard, so I understood the lack of his usual chaotic enthusiasm. 

That being said, I did get a hearty chuckle when I plopped my little Goostarion down on the table for him and told him that despite needing context from friends, I made him his own little angry goose. (It had a tag around its neck that said “Careful, I bite,” as well as my info as the creator and the pattern designer’s info, but it fell off somewhere while I was in line and I’m still mad about it.) 

He was also kind enough to scribble a Happy Birthday on my sister’s print because I had mentioned it was a birthday gift to her and we’d technically been cut off from quotes and selfies by then. Mostly so they could get through the line faster. He was truly a sweet human even with all his fatigue, and I don’t regret anything about meeting him. I feel like I got to see the most human side of fame and that’s honestly very special, as someone who deals with a lot of mental health issues and doesn’t always want to be perceived but still must promote themselves for work. 

I did, however, learn to come earlier. Like, Friday early.

This trip was an experience and a half, but it was all worth it in the end. I feel like I reclaimed a part of me that went missing years ago, or at least went deep into hiding, and I feel like I have the confidence to be able to try to do it again at the very least. Of course, it would be better to go with friends so I have other, familiar people to nerd out with, but being able to go alone proved that I could do it, and I needed that confidence boost.

I’d say sorry this got so long and rambly, but I’m not sorry. You guys made this possible and I wanted to share the experience with you, most of it anyway. Thanks for making this happen and keep your eyes peeled for some new merch coming soon! It could be...Karlach approved ^_~