#affected by caffeine take and nobody thought to tell me that until i felt like i was going to die?? coolcoolcool i guess

[mieczyhale]

when you catch a mistake in ur tags or ur post but its too late 

this wouldn’t keep happening to me if there was a way to better edit and rearrange already typed tags 8|

[fieryhonesty]

“Talked with a friend about how bad bus drivers are where I live and how many times I landed on somebody or somebody has landed on me. Somehow felt like to write a short fic about it, ended up being more from real life than I dare to admit. N-no! it’s not like that!”

Words: 2714

Genre: fluff, modern AU, gn!reader

"-and that's it for today. Don't forget to review, the exam will mostly contain questions based on this topic. The results will gradually affect your grades." 

With those words the professor has left the room. It was the last class of the day and obviously he didn't want to waste any minute. Hurrying to his car not to get caught in traffic. 

You were idly sitting at your desk, not even paying attention to others packing their stuff and leaving the classroom. You are slowly the last person in the room. You didn't listen most of the time and had no idea what the professor was talking about. Your mind was drifting everywhere, it's too hard to stay focused on classes. Especially when your mind is overflowing with ideas.

Last night you had talked with one of your friends. You two knew since elementary school and despite choosing different schools and paths you remained in contact. She knew everything about you including the passion for writing. It was just a hobby of yours. You had never planned it to be your career.

 In fact not so many knew about it. People around you knew you were writing something in your notebook. But you are a student, probably writing some notes for school or something. And you always hid your writings when somebody was approaching. Even if they asked what you were doing you just said 'rewriting my school notes, hehe.'

Except that one friend nobody has any idea about your passion. Perhaps it's for the best as you are really shy about it. The thought of other people seeing what you write or how you write is kind of terrifying. Publishing your stories never crossed your mind until your friend got fed up one day. Telling you to just go and publish it. There was no room for negotiations.

Your shyness slowly disappeared, at least when it came to publishing your works online. People didn't know you, your name or who you are. They knew you under a nickname and that's it. You felt safe and happy as you got quickly recognized and fans were leaving supportive comments. 

Writing is your way to express yourself and your emotions. Talking to people face to face is quite harder. You don't have the time to think it through and usually say the first thing which comes to your mind. Sometimes ending up saying some weird stuff which embarrasses you. That's why you rather don't initiate talk or talk really rarely. 

You are most talkative around your best friend and family. Everything else is just giving you anxious feelings. You'd love to start talking with others, especially if they are talking about something you are also interested in. But you are simply not that kind of person who would randomly join in and talk. Sometimes you wish all conversations could happen in written form, that way you would be the star.

You wanted to pull out your notebook and write down some of your thoughts but you realized where you are. Looking around the classroom, it's only you. Sighing for yourself. It will have to wait until you arrive at your apartment. Quickly packing all books into your fancy bag and rushing to your locker. 

You were actually sharing the locker with another person but they are sick at the moment. Their half is clean as ever, books neatly folded, cup and coffee hidden in the back part of the locker. They actually made you into the coffee addicted person you are now. At first you didn't like it but eventually fell in love with the bitter flavor. 

Sometimes you fetch some latté on your way home, thinking of where you would be without caffeine. It's probably one of the best things which happened to you during your university days. So many sleepless nights as you were studying for exams or writing until early morning. 

Changing into your comfy shoes, wrapping a scarf around your neck and dressing into the coat you loved so much. It's so warm and cool looking, makes you feel badass whenever you wear it. One last glance over your stuff in the locker in case you had forgotten about something. All set. Time to catch a bus.

Knowing about you had missed all early buses and will probably get stuck in traffic. Which is fine by you, your earbuds and music is ready. Luckily you didn't have to wait for too long at the bus stop. But it was enough for your cheeks to start freezing. As always you stood at your usual spot. Not feeling like sitting as you do it the whole day at school and home. 

Wrapping one arm around the pole, leaning a bit at it. There's not many people with you on the bus and so you can monopolize the pole and the area around it. You put down your bag as it was quite heavy and your shoulder was starting to hurt. Pulling the phone out of your pocket and browsing news. 

Not really paying attention, just mindlessly scrolling through articles. Sometimes reading the first few sentences before you go back and keep scrolling. 

As expected the bus was moving slowly, the delay was getting worse and worse. Checking the time, you had already spent here over ten minutes. If the bus had moved by a few meters, it's a lot, let's say that. Delays are quite normal at this hour so you don't really sweat it. Looking back to your screen, resuming your news browsing.

After a couple of minutes the bus finally got out of the major traffic and quickly catching up with the delay. As expected the ride was faster than usual, hopefully still within the speed limits. However you won't know this, all you know is the roundabout you will reach soon won't be funny. It's quite a steep one and even if the driver will take it very slowly you will have a hard time balancing yourself.

You are prepared, actually holding tight the pole instead of leaning on it. You have a perfect posture to keep yourself stable. Maybe your grip on the pole is a bit too convulsive. As you feel unpleasant pressure in your wrist. The moment you ease the grip a little, feeling how your feet are sliding. Before you tighten your grip again you fly forward. Trying your best not to crash into the person who was sitting there.

Despite all of your efforts you land on them. You are in shock but more than that you are embarrassed. As you tried to pull back and regain your posture. Feeling hands on your shoulders. Apologies are about to roll out of your lips but they are faster.

"Hey, are you alright?"

Up until now you didn't realize it's a guy you fell on. His long crimson locks tied into a ponytail. At first you thought you had landed on a woman. But his hoarse voice assured you he is anything but a female. You are too close to him for your comfort, his scent already entered your nose. Feeling how heat is rising in your cheeks. This is bad. His crimson eyes were darting around your face, looking for any sign of injury.

'This is embarrassing, say something you idiot!'

"Uh, yea. I... I'm terribly sorry!"

Your voice nearly betrayed you. The last word could be barely heard which made you even more wishing to just be able to vanish. Staring at the male unable to think what to say. Feeling relieved when the bus has stopped as he lets go his hold on you. If you could, you could have dug yourself in a ten meters deep hole and never climb up. 

Quickly murmuring out another apology. Grabbing your bag and jumping out of the bus. It doesn't matter if your stop is still far away. You'd rather walk the rest or wait for another bus than stay in that one.

It was already dark outside when you arrived at your place. Freezing and tired. Trying not to think of what happened earlier but you couldn't get the male's scent out of your nose. It was like he is still next to you, the sweet smell of vanilla. 

You let it be as you tossed the bag into a corner in your room. You are too hungry to think about anything. Making some quick cup noodles and eating them while going through another writing and editing session.

Days were passing by. Always the same: school, ride home and then either study or write. You had forgotten about what happened a few days ago, not even mentioning it to your close friend who had been hanging out with you here and now in chat.

It's Friday and you are feeling like chugging one quick latté. Perhaps you will sit there for a while and write a bit. You sure do like the atmosphere in café shops especially with playing jazz. Sitting in your corner, peeking at other customers here and now. Just to be sure nobody is approaching you. 

You ordered your regular and are waiting for the waitress. In the meantime you pull out your small notebook and read through the latest ideas. You usually write short things there, like drabbles which sometimes turn into much longer stories.

When a cup with your favorite drink landed on the table you looked up and shot a quick smile at the waitress. She answered with the same gesture before checking on other customers.

You fished for a pen in your bag. As soon as the tip of the pen touched the paper, a group of guys entered the shop. You didn't look up to check on them. Why would you anyway? You came here to chill after school, enjoy your drink and possibly write a few lines. Well maybe if you did check, then you would have noticed the redhead from before. 

He was dragged here by his friends as they got this stupid idea to look at girls. Starting here at café and moving to other public places. He didn't want to. He is kind of tired after the long week but that's also the reason why he is here. Too tired to search for excuses. And he knew he would need valid ones especially for his little brother whose idea was all of this.

As he sat with them, quite unbothered by their talk about the waitress who just took their order. Pulling out his phone to finish reading something he started during lunch break. He agreed to tag along not join into their jewelry observations as they call it. They could be talking about anything and he wouldn't pay mind to it. 

Only to be brought back to reality when Childe snatched his phone away. Grinning at him.

"C'mon Diluc, your social media can wait. Cute girls won't~"

The scarlet haired male rolled eyes at the ginger.

"For your information, reading stories is not the same as browsing twitter."

"Oh? What I am hearing? I didn't know my big bro is into reading inappropriate stories."

Diluc shot a glare at the bluenette. Reconsidering if it's worth his time to argue about it. If anyone is reading smuts here, it's Kaeya. Why is he hanging out with his brother again? 

Childe waved with his phone in front of his face in a very taunting manner. But didn't evade when Diluc reached for it, sliding it back into his coat. Looking around the café and then he noticed you. He was not sure if it's really you, the person who fell on him on the bus a few days ago. But when you looked up to take a sip of your latté he saw your face.

Something inside of him felt like to get up and go talk to you. But he can't. Or? Can he talk to you? A total stranger whom he met only once and under strange circumstances? For some reason he really wanted to greet you at least. He resisted the urge for long enough, at least until Kaeya didn't notice where he was looking and said something about it. 

Grabbing his cup and slowly approaching you. He didn't know what he was doing or why he was doing it. When he was close enough to your table, clearing his throat, asking if he could join you.

Your eyes shoot up to the not so familiar voice. Widening when you realized it's the same guy from back then. Feeling like your stomach was being squished. Just when you had forgotten about that embarrassing moment. 

All what you managed was a nod, observing how he sat at the chair opposite of you. Nervously smiling at him. What should you say? This is awkward. 

"Um-" 

You both started in unison, exchanging embarrassed looks. You motioned to him to start.

"Hi, uh. Hope I'm not disturbing?"

"No... not at all." 

You put your hand over the notebook instinctively. It's a habit of yours, hiding it from anyone's eyes.

"I'm Diluc and you are-"

"That person who landed on you on the bus, yes that’s me." 

You deadpanned. Can't help it but smile a little, finding it funny. The guy who you fell at, the one who should be mad at you. He is trying to talk to you and what's better he also seems to be nervous while talking. Feeling a bit relieved as it probably won't be only you embarrassing themselves.

He chuckled a little at your words. Kind of wishing to know you more than just a person who fell on him. When you tried to apologize once again he stopped you, saying it's fine. To change the topic he asked for your name and where were you going back then. 

When he found out you are also an university student he felt relieved a bit and more at ease. You had something in common, something you both could relate to. As the talk between you warmed up enough, when the first uneasiness faded. You talked about your hobbies, of course you didn't want to tell him about your big passion and said you are reading.

Which wasn't that much far from reality but unlike him you didn't read from known authors or big titles. In fact most of your reading were stories from other passionate writers, mixed with random novels here and now. 

"Oh, I also happen to read stories posted on the web. Some people are really talented."

He admits and flashes you something that one could describe as a slight smile? But really quick so your brain barely registers it. 

"Hey um, I know this will be strange. But I kind of enjoy our talk, it's much more..." He trailed off as he was thinking how to put  it without saying anything bad about his companions. Who are probably scheming or coming up with various ideas how to use this against him. 

"What I mean is, you act like a person in your age unlike my brother."

You tried not to laugh too much. Giggles escaping your lips. Truth to be told you were also enjoying this little talk between the two of you. This was probably the very first conversation you had with a stranger. And they didn't seem to mind your awkwardness. 

It feels like you two understand each other. Both are interested in literature, have to deal with school troubles and have something unique to each of you.

Looking up into his ruby eyes. "Yeah. I'm enjoying this too. Why didn't I fall on you earlier?!"

Both of you laughed at that remark. 

"If you don't mind, we could do this more often?"

"You mean me falling on you on the bus or drinking coffee?" 

"The latter. If I see you on the same bus I'll make sure you sit."

You two had talked more after this. Way longer than both of you expected. When Diluc checked the table where his companions were sitting before he noticed they are gone. He didn't think of checking his phone. But once he does he will find a message from his brother.

「'Seems like you had found somebody to spent night with, don't worry about your lil bro and enjoy~ 😘 '」

[slashermom]

mOTHERR! MOMM! i have a request. how bout some sad and insecure Bo bc we all know that our baby boy is in fact sad and insecure. like he saw one of "tourist" that was kinda good looking checking his s/o out and that ruined his day. basically pure fluff (we are a child of god(not really)). (im still convinced that his full name is Bob Sinclair but more about that later). thank you mother. sincerely you very caffeinated child with ad/hd

Yes, YeS, YES! (This got way deeper than expected but I am the CEO of overthinking and overanalyzing thoughts and actions so I guess you should expect it at this point.)

The root of most, if not all, of Bo’s problems, are his insecurities.

Bo may act like God’s gift to Louisiana but deep down he isn’t as confident as he makes himself out to be. 

Having limited strong and positive male adult figures in his life,  Bo has never really had any good examples of how men are supposed to handle their feelings. 

It was always ‘The harder you cry, the harder you’re gonna get hit.’ Leaving the Sinclair boy no choice but bury and repress the things that are eating him up inside.

As he got older, Bo found other ways he could cope.

It usually involved some PBRs, a bottle of Jack, and starting a pissing contest with the closest sibling.

Those nasty habits usually reared their ugly head when he focused too deeply on the past. On what was already said and done. What was done to him. What those moments turned him into. 

Bo seldom found himself getting worked up over what another man has going for him. 

Like he was now. 

He never considered himself to be a jealous man. 

What did he have to be jealous or insecure about? 

“You seen this jawline? What about these baby blues? Even my calves are good lookin’. Baby, I am quite literally the full package.”

Bo is the type of guy that flexes his arm muscles and makes you squeeze them to try and impress you/prove a point.

But Bo’s sense of self-worth and confidence gets thrown right out the window the moment he catches wind of another man cozying up to you.

It was just another disgustingly hot afternoon in Ambrose when a man around your age rolled into town claiming he needed help with directions and tire change. 

Bo examined the car with minimal interest and you being the polite person you were, you struck up a conversation with the guy and found that he was quite personable. Bo and him would actually get along well.

But upon glancing over at your boyfriend who was shoving a tire jack under the newcomer's car you didn’t miss the scowl plastered on his face. 

Who the fuck does this guy think he is?

You had clearly mentioned that Bo was your partner and he still had the balls to look you up and down, smile at you with those pearly whites, lean in closer while you told a story.

Bo sees the way he looks at you, and it doesn’t sit well at all. 

He knows what goes on in a man’s head when you got someone as beautiful as you standing in front of him.

In his efforts to try and think about something else besides the heathen taking up space in his service station, his mind makes an important discovery. 

The guy is a nobody. He doesn’t know you from a hole in the ground. He doesn’t know you the way Bo does. 

This tool can only dream of fucking you half as good as Bo can. 

He could never make you shake and whine and get you so lost in the feeling of his cock inside you that you can’t do anything else but hold him close like Bo can. 

The burning feeling that was beginning to fester in his chest simmers and a smile crawls onto his lips but a sense of dread still hangs heavy. 

That’s when he realizes it’s not just about how attractive this guy was or even the things he may or may not want to do to you that was bothering Bo.

It was the fact that this man can probably offer you so much more. 

This guy probably has a well-paying job. Doesn’t home come all busted. Doesn’t smell of cheap cigarettes and booze. Probably got a nice family too. 

Just from the way the guy carries himself and talks - Bo can tell he’s good inside and out. 

Not rotten like him.

Maybe you would be better off with someone like him. 

But he knows he doesn’t have the strength to let you go. 

“Hey, you wouldn’t mind givin’ me a hand over here, would you?” 

So he’s not going to let you get the chance.

The man who’s name he had consciously ignored, immediately made his way over to get a look at what Bo needed help with.

The brunette pointed to a spot near the tire jack and told the tourist to bend down to look at it. 

While he was leaning over, Bo grabbed a fistful of his hair and used it to smash his face off the side of the car. 

Wasting absolutely no time, he fished a pair of long nose pliers from his back pocket and lodged them into the man’s jugular. 

Bo pushed harsh breaths through his nose as he watched blood flow from the body on the ground and begin to pool at his worn-out boots.

“Jesus Christ... You couldn’t have waited until I was around the corner or something?”

Your voice snapped his attention back to you. 

You cringed at the sight before turning your back to it. You knew the guy had to go sooner or later but you never particularly liked watching someone get stabbed in the neck. 

As you were heading for the door to let Bo deal with the body you felt an arm reach out and gently grab your upper arm and maneuvering you to turn around.

Giving you no time to question him, Bo captured your lips in his. 

The kiss wasn’t as rough or as passionate as the ones he usually gives. It was soft and careful. There was no clashing off teeth or tugging at soft flesh or clothing. He just wanted to feel you. 

When the kiss finally broke, the hands that had been holding your arms slithered around and locked together at the small of your back.

Effectively pulling you up against his torso and all but forcing you to wrap your arms around him. He sighed contently at the feeling of your body against his before pressing another kiss to the crown of your head.

Bo has never been really shy with affection but this felt different. Desperate almost..

“What’s wrong?” You mumble into his chest.

“Nothin’.”

“You’re so full of shit.”

“I know.” 

You rolled your eyes at his clear avoidance but didn’t push it any further. If holding you like this made him feel better then you weren’t going to try and force an answer out of him. 

And it’s not like you were complaining either.

“Why don’t you head back up to the house while I get this mess sorted?”

You could tell he was reluctant to pull away but did so anyway. But not before looping your hand in his and giving it a loving squeeze. 

You nodded and squeezed his hand back. 

He flashed you a half-smirk, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes before turning back to the body on the ground. You didn’t know what was going on in his head but it made your heart ache and the words just came tumbling out.

“You know I love you, right?” 

Bo stopped dead in his tracks and faced you once more. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he nodded.

“Sure, I do.”

The uncertainty in his voice didn’t go unnoticed.

“Good.” Your voice came out quieter than intended. “I’ll send Vinny down when I get to the house.” 

He gave you another nod and you took that as your cue to leave. 

Bo wanted to punch himself in the face. You had just told him you loved him, and the best he could say was ‘Sure, I do’?

Bet putz on the ground would say it back.

He shook the thought from his head and reached for his pack of cigarettes on the counter.

He will tell you it back. Bo just doesn’t know how or when.

[adonis-koo]

tease

| 6 |

↳ Summary: You came with the intentions of your best friend landing a job as a stripper. You never meant to catch the eyes of the king stripper of the establishment- Jeon Jungkook, yourself. With what was supposed to be a harmless way of paying off college debt faster you find yourself falling into a very odd and passionate relationship with your new mentor. Between infidelity, passion and jealousy there’s never a dull moment at Cherry Bomb.

↳ Pairing: Stripper!Jungkook/Reader

↳ Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, drama, slice of life, relationship problems without the relationship, reader is such a shy baby protect her, MUTUAL pining, so much sexual frustration,  

Word count: 13.8k

Previous | Next

// Playlist //

Song mood

Tags: Heavy petting, excessive foreplay, Jungkook reveals his daddy kink, nobody is surprised, mild sub/dom play, dirty talk, light spanking,

Warning: This story touches on both sexual harassment and abuse, please read with caution if any of these things are triggers to you. Additional warnings will be given when a chapter presents them.

TW: Sexual harassment and attempted rape are mentioned and referenced in this chapter please read with caution if these are triggers for you <3

Sitting awake in your bed, with a tightly clasped phone and an angry expression, this was not how you wanted to start your day. What was his problem? You didn’t mean to offend him- but it didn’t seem like the Jungkook you knew would’ve took it like a personal attack, why was he acting like such a jerk?

Squeezing your phone you groaned roughly rubbing your eyes, well aware of the dark circles plaguing them from your all nighter, you were already tired you really didn’t need this added on top of your building list of stressful things. With in the short span of Jungkook you had never caught him in a bad mood before and this had thrown you for a loop more than you wanted to admit, briefly you thought about just missing practice altogether for some much needed sleep but you remembered the show you had tonight.

Flopping down you groaned louder as you shoved your pillow into your head, you’d have to practice for tonight in order to not spazz out meaning you’d definitely have to go, finally after coming to terms with the fact you pulled yourself out of bed before showering and getting ready.

You couldn’t get the conversation you shared with Jungkook out of your head though the entire walk to work, what had you done to warrant such a reaction from him?

You cycled through your memories before stopping at the spat he had with Hanjae, he did seem extremely broody when you left him behind, but he was fine with you at work...No- he wasn’t actually- if you were correct in remembering his brief glare on you. But he up until that point understood your weariness and respected that it was your choice.

He wouldn’t change his mind on it, right? All of your thoughts and brainstorming lead to nothing but dead ends and by the time you got to Cherry Bomb your eyes were tired and your brain near dead from too many thoughts between finishing your thesis, the lack of sleep and now having to figure out why Jungkook had been so harsh with you.

You didn’t want to say his comment on you acting like a kid hurt, but it did. It was something you were already insecure about due to other people, and he probably didn’t even know that, but still. It hurt. You swallowed your sensitivity as you pushed the doors to Cherry Bomb open, remembering your silent vow to thicken your skin.

You didn’t think you’d ever have to start by ignoring Jungkook’s hurtful comment, but here you were pushing it to the back of your mind.

The sting was still evident though, surely he knew how much his opinion of you affected you, you could feel your hands beginning to quiver only to tighten them against the strap of your bag, it was too early in the morning and you were too tired for so many emotions overrunning your whole body.

You were anything but a soda drinker, but at the moment your body needed the caffeine to stave from crashing to the ground in exhaustion forcing you to swallow the bubbly liquid like it was your life line. Taehyung had bedhead and a pretty brunette sat on the stool beside you as he began stocking up alcohol behind the counter, his gaze staying on you briefly before he frowned, “You look tired Y/n.”

“I am,” You groaned, collapsing your upper body on the counter as you sighed, “I had to stay up to finish a thesis for one of my classes today, I feel like total garbage and to boot Jungkook’s been such an ass this morning.”

You could hear Taehyung snort a laugh despite his apologetic tone, “Sorry- That sounds awful, but what’s up with Jungkook? He looked really broody this morning when he came in.” He seemed a little curious as he continued putting bottles up onto the high shelf.

“I don’t know,” You sighed, resting your head against your arms as you traced patterns against the cold granite countertop leaving a brisk nip against your open skin, “It’s honestly stupid- I tried to apologize but he brushed me off…”

The brunette frowned sympathetically at you and given how smiley she had been around Taehyung, you could easily take a guess in assuming this was his love Yeri who gave you a gentle smile, “You’re Y/n right? His trainee? He’s always been a hot and cold guy so it can come in phases...he was the same way about me for a long time,” She shifted a little in discomfort at her own words before she hummed, “But he’ll come around, he always does- I’m Yeri by the way.” She let out a small sheepish laugh as if realizing she didn’t introduce herself.

“Oh I figured as much,” You returned her smile, looking a little more tired and less bright in the eyes as her before your expression slowly melted into a frown, “I hope so, I know we haven’t known each other long but I’ve never seen him like this before, it just feels so out of character.” Yeri gently rubbed your back as soothingly as she could as she frowned delicately, pity in her eyes at your exhausted figure, you must’ve looked liked a kicked puppy, you honestly felt like one too…

“No Yeri’s right, he goes through phases and tends to isolate himself at times. I’ll warn you Y/n,” Taehyung frowned as he picked up the bottle of gin, “Jungkook bites as hard as he loves, don’t push him to talk too much or else he’s gonna push back. Just give him some time, everything will be okay.” He gave you a sweet boxy smile in encouragement as you sighed, nodding at his words before hearing Jimin call all of the fillers to start up on the days practice. Getting up from your spot you dragged your dead body to the back of the room as usual.

Today had been particularly miserable, Chan Hee wouldn’t stop passing snide comments your way and your water bottle seemed to magically be replaced with pure vodka, as if things weren’t hard enough you had also received three texts from Hanjae demanding to see you soon to talk. Everyone seemed unable to leave you alone- except for the one person you had been hoping to talk too. Time had passed too fast and it was already 9:45- well past the time Jungkook usually picked you up from the main room.

Should you go back on your own? You still didn’t feel one hundred percent comfortable walking back on your own unless Jungkook specifically stated you needed too and he hadn’t even greeted you this morning like he usually did before he went back to practice on his own. Should you send him a text? Worry was beginning to gnaw in your stomach and you couldn’t keep yourself from fidgeting, you didn’t like being on bad terms with Jungkook, it left you feeling both empty and anxious at the same time with a bitter twinge of the last memory you spoke.

You were never one to hold a grudge for long- if at all. He could call you childish all he wanted- you were used to it by now anyways, you just wished he’d tell you what the problem was, what had you explicitly said that set him off? But in the end, if he wasn’t even going to accept your apology, you supposed it was useless. You glanced at the hallway again, feeling a twist of hurt bubbling in your stomach as you glanced back at your phone, one text wouldn’t hurt, right?

You could barely seen your screen as droplets of tears pattered against your phone, you told yourself you weren’t going to cry! But you couldn’t stop the sniffle from escaping you at how cold his words were. What could you have done to make him like this? You didn’t deserve this kind of treatment furthermore no matter what you did. Why couldn’t he just talk to you?

“Guess we know who finally dropped the little baby,” Chan Hee stood in front of you, her voice going higher in a mocking baby tone as she snorted a laugh, “What did you expect? Someone like Jungkook would never waste his time on a girl like you. Might as well start packing up now.” You opened your mouth but all your lips did was quiver as more tears dripped down your face causing her to laugh again. You must’ve looked pathetic.

Chan Hee’s words were just salt on an already open wound, maybe she was right, he clearly wasn’t about to waste his time on a single word you had too say, his curt, cold message was clear of that.

Rubbing your eyes you intended to ignore her until the familiar Nike shoes of Seulgi came into view, “Fuck off you dirty fiend, don’t you have another girls life force to feed off of?” She instantly wrapped her arm around you defensively as she gritted her teeth.

Chan Hee only rose her brows before laughing, “Keep your bitch on it’s leesh L/n.” She said nothing more before whipping around and sauntering away. Seulgi looked ready to pummel her into next week but stopped at your sniffling before her expression crumbled.

“Is it Jungkook?” She asked frowning, three words and another sob broke from your lips and your vision of your blurred again as you closed your eyes defeatedly while nodding, “Awwh don’t cry Y/n, I’m sure he’s just having a bad day, have you tried texting him?”

You nodded trying to muffle your sobs as you noticed people beginning to glance your way, the last place you wanted to cry your eyes out was in the main room of Cherry Bomb in front of dozens of fillers, “He said we’d talk later,” You tried to calm your breathing by inhaling slowly, forcing the bubbling of your cries down your throat before swallowing thickly, “I can’t force him to talk Seulgi, I think...I think I’m just gonna head home, I need to get some rest before class today.” You wiped your eyes as she sent you a look of pity while frowning.

Giving your shoulder a squeeze she nodded, “Get some rest babe you need it after today, see you tonight?” She asked a little hesitant, as if unsure if she’d see for work. And as much as you wanted to just take the whole day off, life went on and you were being dragged along for the ride, you really needed the money tonight and you’d be not only depressed, but also broke if you decided to stay in, “Yeah, I’ll see you tonight.” You nodded before giving her one last look and heading out the door.

Could today get any worse?

“Now just step forward, it’s important you keep your weight on your standing foot so when you go to turn your working leg in it’s a lot sharper and gives a more clean look,” You demonstrated, turning your left leg towards you before turning it out once more. Both Namjoon and Seokjin looked utterly adorable as they studied your position, as if taking mental notes before trying it themselves.

Relaxing from your position you nodded as you watched them give it a couple of tries before smiling, “See! It’s not that difficult, it just takes practice to get the movement, can we play it with the music so I can watch?” You laughed at both of their grimaces before Seokjin groaned and nodded. Taking a seat by the mirror you pulled out your phone before turning on the music, watching them work on the combination again, Namjoon had gotten off count and Seokjin was still struggling with his foot placing but you couldn’t help but beam with pride, they were such quick learners and hard workers! If they kept up the good work they’d be great in no time at all.

They were near out of breath by the time they finished the combination but you were already up on your feet excitedly clapping your hands as you grinned wide, “Awesome job guys! I know it feels like you aren’t doing well but you really are! Results just take time to see, like anything else.”

“I don’t know how you have the energy to do this every day on top of work and practice.” Namjoon admitted as he took a drink from his water bottle, wiping the sweat from his brow as you gave a small laugh, tugging on the strands of your ponytail as you shrugged. It was taxing but after so long your body had eventually got used to the demanding hours dance took.

Adding stripping into the mix and extra practice for that threw your body for a loop, not used to giving even more energy and admittedly your feet had been tired and sore from being on the go for so long especially with the heels you wore for work.

“You get used to it after so long,” You offered a small smile before shrugging, “Trying to get used to work is the more difficult part for me, but I’m surviving…” Your smile melted at the thought of Jungkook before sighing, you still hadn’t heard from him the rest of the day and currently you had just finished up your own practice with Namjoon and Seokjin, who had came by after your own rehearsal and planned on heading to work from the studio together.

Both Seokjin and Namjoon exchanged glances before giving you sympathetic looks of their own before Namjoon spoke up, “Don’t take it to heart Y/n, Jungkook is just going through the motions right now, I tried telling him to not give you the cold shoulder but he brushed me off this morning, he can be a stubborn ass when he wants to be.”

You tried to keep your lips from not quivering but the idea was upsetting, so he really was giving you the cold shoulder? You didn’t want to say you were desperate for an answer but you didn’t like being on bad terms with anyone, let alone Jungkook, “What did I do Nam? Why is he so upset?” Your eyes were glossy and pleading as you fiddled with your fingers, letting your gaze drop to the floor as you swallowed back the sob that wanted to filter through your lips.

Namjoon sighed before he ran a hand through his hair, giving you a sad apologetic smile, “It’s really not for me to tell, and even if I wanted too he hasn’t really told anyone what’s going on. He’s just been brooding the whole day, Rosé tried to talk to him but…” He cringed before sighing.

It was Seokjin who spoke up next, his expression a little more irritated as he crossed his arms, “That kid really needs to get it under control, one of these days he’s gonna lose the few people he has left if he keeps acting like this,” He looked a little ruffled but then you remembered Rosé was his trainee once upon a time, a natural protectiveness for the girl was obviously still there even after so long, “Seriously Y/n, Jungkook has a good heart but he has a temper and emotional maturity of a five year old, it’s not an excuse for his behavior but he’ll get over it, he usually does.”

You felt a little better, but you still couldn’t help but be worried. If there was anything you could do to rectify wherever things went wrong with Jungkook you’d do it in a heartbeat. You just wished he’d give you a chance. Seokjin sighed before wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “Come on, we better get to work, I know you’re on stage tonight, right?”

“Well yeah…” You shrugged before frowning as you all exited the studio, Namjoon had been kind enough to pick you up from your apartment and had said he’d be more than happy to drive everyone to work, it was the least he could do considering you were helping them free of charge.

You’d never accept their money though even if they tried, you were all broke in college and even as soloist you had become aware that they were still very particular on how they chose to spend their money. Arriving to Cherry Bomb it was already in full swing, your shift was short today and you weren’t about to complain, you just had a few dances on stage before being able to go home. Your wallet would be crying at the lack of hours but atleast you’d get home a little earlier than normal.

Sitting down at your vanity in the filler room the chatter bounced off the walls and you could feel a few girls passing you stares while talking, you wouldn’t be surprised if you and Jungkook were the topic of Cherry Bomb right now, especially given your embarrassing breakdown earlier that morning. God why did you have to be like this? Pressing the fake lashes on you stood up to start getting changed, you were beginning to get used to the risque lingerie.

The black lace thong that rode up your ass wasn’t as uncomfortable anymore granted you had finally broke down and started wearing thongs more regularly in your day to day attire to try and become more used to the feeling, the tight pushup bra you put on however was still a foreign feeling when all you wore was the opposite every day.

The room had suddenly became a lot more hushed when the door opened, making you furrow your brows as you pulled the skirt up to your waist, turning to look only for your eyes to meet the burning pair that focused only on you.

Jungkook had been talking to Namjoon as his eyes flickered over you, whatever tension he had in his shoulders relaxing but his expression only hardened further before he turned to continue his conversation as if you didn’t exist.

“Yikes.” One of the girls next to your own vanity whispered to her friend before they before sniggered at your expression, forcing your eyes back on your vanity as you swallowed thickly. Refusing to acknowledge the pang of hurt in your chest at his treatment of you as you continued getting dressed.

You’d be on stage in less than ten minutes, your emotions and tears would just have to wait.

Pulling your hair up you took one last deep breath before heading out the door with the rest of your group.

You were on the far left of the stage today and somehow, it made things a bit easier and you didn’t feel as pressured to perform. Stripping- was still a scary thing to do but as soon as you shed your clothes you hadn’t even noticed the dollar bills flying your way, it looked roughly the same as your last dance worth, but hey, twenty could get you not only coffee but a lunch to go with it. You weren’t about to complain.

You could tell your performance wasn’t as sharp today though, the back of your mind was still clouded with Jungkook, who was somewhere out in the crowd sitting with a group of women no doubt keeping them entertained. Scanning through the crowd you finally spotted the two figures you had been hoping would keep their word. The two men from yesterday, the one who had been relentlessly flirting with you had his eyes locked on your figure while his friend- Alex was it? Had been sunk in his seat while glancing towards the floor, his friend occasionally knocking his shoulder as if trying to get him out of his head.

You could tell when someone wasn’t interested in strippers and he definitely was one of them. Stepping off the stage you could feel a plenty of gazes on your near naked figure, you were determined to make an extra tip tonight and at least his friend was up for a lapdance. Hopefully this would go well. You sauntered over to their table instantly perking the flirts attention, you gave them a teasing smile as you waved, tracing the edge of his chair as you circled it, “Thanks for coming, I always love the audience.”

“I’m flattered but my friend could really use a pick-me-up.” He winked at you before jerking his head to his friend, who shifted in his seat, his cheeks a little flushed under the lights and you could instantly tell he wasn’t comfortable with the idea.

Smile you stepped in front of him again as you replied, “I don’t dance for anyone who isn’t comfortable with it.” You explained gently as you began to circle your hips, dropping slowly down into a slut drop to get at eye level with the flirt, “At least let me treat you.” You allowed your hands to stroke up his thighs, his gaze cast over to his friend briefly before laughing.

“Alright you’ve won me over.” Smiling you stood up before placing yourself down into his lap, it was ironic how okay you felt, or maybe it was the mutual consent? You weren’t sure, you hadn’t practiced on lapdancing a whole lot, but there wasn’t a lot too it, right? You assumed you must’ve been doing something right by the way his hands were clenching at his sides, trying to keep from touching you as your hips got to work.

Your cheeks were beginning to get a little hot, especially when you felt the stiff boner in his pants but you didn’t relent. The only thing, that caused you to falter for a split second was when your eyes found your mentor.

He sat a few tables away and even though he was in direct view of you- he had to have seen you. He still refused to look at you, instead he chose to direct his attention on the four women he had been seated with, even going as far as grabbing the hand of the girl he sat by, nipping at her palm before kissing it with a playful wink.

You weren’t hurt at all! You didn’t care! Who said you cared because you definitely didn’t!

You swallow thickly instantly looking away and ignoring the drop in your stomach and the pang that waved through your chest, this was fine! You weren’t together and he had every right to do whatever he wanted with any girl! It wouldn’t be fair of you to act like you were together when you were in fact, separated from your own boyfriend and he was single.

You had just thought maybe…

Pressing your forearms against the man's shoulders you finished your lap dance before the music had come to an end. You felt the band of your panties lifted and the bill set between your skin and the material as you quickly got up, forcing a smile and pushing the gloss in your eyes back, “Thanks for coming gents!”

“Wait,” The flirt instantly stopped you before giving a quick cough, as if not wanting to become too eager, “At least let us buy you a drink?” He offered, looking a little more timid than before as if hoping you wouldn’t reject him.

Giving a small smile you ran a hand through your hair before nodding, “Of course! This was my last dance of the night, let’s head up to the bar.” The flirt had introduced himself as Minjun and apparently his friend Alex- had been a transfer student from America currently attending the university. Of course you had to compliment his fluid Korean, you had assumed he was a foreigner by his name but still, it was impressive when he told you he knew several languages and picked up Korean in only a few years.

Taehyung was practically rooting for you behind the bar, sending you embarrassing thumbs up everytime they both looked away making you scowl at him while Yoongi fixed your drinks.

“So what brings you both to Cherry Bomb? I know most of the times the reason is pretty obvious but…” You clacked your lips before you offered them a smile, “Reasons seemed a bit different today.”

You didn’t want to pry but you couldn’t help but notice the air between the both of them seemed different today, when they interacted with each other compared to the night before.

It was ironic, but people often poured their problems out to you when you sat down and talked to them, it was odd how easy it was to open up to a stripper only there for a paycheck.

Minjun sighed as he shifted in his seat, you instantly noticed Alex glance back towards his drink before slumping again, “He’s been having some girl problems recently, I figured I’d take him here to try and get his mind off of things but...he’s not much of a club guy if you couldn’t tell.” He laughed a little, somewhat affectionately as if he were his little brother. They were obviously very close.

“Well it takes one to know one,” You replied gently before giving a soft laugh of your own, offering a small smile to Alex as if understanding his pain, “Like I said before, I’m actually not into clubs, especially now considering I work at one.” Your smile turned a little more shy as you traced the rim of your glass, noticing Minjun’s frown at his phone before he sighed, his brows pressed together in mild worry before giving you an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry but I’m going to have to go, my little sister is having her own relationship problems.” You laughed at his wording before nodding, telling him it was more than okay before he paid the tab and made his way to the exit of the club, leaving you and Alex sitting alone.

Giving a sigh your expression turned more soft at the poor guy as you frowned, “I’m sorry about last night, I know what it feels like- trust me. Anyways, that was my last dance of the night so I’m gonna head off.” You got up from your seat intending to make your way to the staff area before Alex suddenly perked up.

“W-wait!” He fumbled out almost a little desperate, as if your previous words stirred something inside him, turning around you raised your brows at his abrupt call, his cheeks flushed again as if realizing it himself but he continued to fumble, “C-can I buy you for the night?” Your lips parted at his words before he realized just what that sounded like, “Not..not like that I mean…” He ran a hand through his hair before muttering something in english, “Uh- I just need an outside opinion on the situation and I know strippers are never free and being a therapist really isn’t your job but…” He trailed off at the sound of your laugh.

Smiling brightly you couldn’t help but let your expression soften again as you nodded, “Of course, tell you what. There’s an amazing takeout japanese place close to here that runs 24/7, let me go get changed and we can get something to eat there and talk, sound good?” He nodded rapidly, giving a relieved smile as he relaxed a little, letting you go to get changed as he waited by the bar.

Pulling on the sports bra and loose tank top you hadn’t packed anything except sweatpants and given it was almost three in the morning you were sure Alex wouldn’t mind the informality, that and he had seen you almost completely naked, that probably helped in its own way. You grabbed your bag before making your way back out to the bar where Alex stood, money in hand as he gave it to you.

“Alright, let’s go.” You grabbed his forearm with an encouraging smile as you led him out of Cherry Bomb, the air was nice and cool against your skin, making you realize the club had been stifled and hot even against your open skin that had been on display most of the night.

The walk was short and you had gotten used to nightlife in Seoul after going for fast food after work so many nights, you were often starving and strippers weren’t allowed to eat on the job, mixing that with a couple of drinks, an empty stomach was never a good way to go to bed.

Sitting down in the booth you opened up your takeout box, pulling your hair up into a messy bun as you gave him a smile, “So, is this about the birthday girl?”

Alex blinked a few times before quickly letting his gaze drop to his own food, playing with his chopsticks before he murmured, “You mean Jiwoo?” He pressed his tongue into his cheek before sighing, running a hand through his hair before he admitted, “I’ve liked her for over two years…? It started out as just a crush and I didn’t really think much of it but...things have gotten weird between us I guess.” He picked at his food, his face dejected at the memory which made your heart ache for him, the poor guy looked completely crushed, and after last night's display it was no wonder.

Curling your knees into your chest you leaned against the window as you hummed, “What do you mean? How did things go from fine to weird?” You know you didn’t know him personally, but you’d never turn away someone who needed your help, or at least your opinion on a situation, especially one that seemed so heartbreaking for him.

“Things were fine until four months ago, I mean we had gotten really close and…” He groaned, facepalming as he muttered, “We ended up going to a party and drinking a lot- I don’t remember but I’m pretty sure I confessed- she’s been acting weird ever since. But to go and sleep with a stripper? It’s so unlike her er-” It seemed as if he was going to say your name- only to realize he had yet to learn it, “...I mean do I even stand a chance with a guy like that?”

You frowned at his words. The answer was- he probably didn’t. Jungkook was the most charismatic person you had ever met, he knew all the right things to say and his confidence could win you a thousand times over, and of course his good looks and incredible build only furthered his chances with any girl on the planet, “Well,” You paused, glancing down at the table yourself, trying to push the image Jungkook had sent of himself and the girl- Jiwoo in chat away from your mind, “My mentor is a lot of things Alex- but committed probably isn’t one of them,” He seemed to notice the own dejection you held as you sighed, “I doubt you have to worry about him stealing her away, he’s extremely adamant about actually getting close to any of our clients.”

“Wait…” Alex faltered in his sentence as he pressed his lips together, “Are you and him…?” He trailed off his words, as if not wanting to really ask, but wanting to make sure this situation hadn’t involved more members then he realized.

Your lips parted and your pupils widened as you fumbled, “Oh no! It’s nothing like that-” You gave a tense laugh as you rubbed your neck, “Jungkook and I…” You squinted your eyes as you glanced at the table, what were you? Friends? Just trainee and mentor? “It’s….it’s complicated,” You sighed as your expression dropped, “He’s my mentor for stripping.” You explained before picking at your own food, “But...I don’t know our relationship is weird, we’re friends but- it’s a weird situation.” You shrugged, not wanting to think about it any longer before you hummed, “Have you told her you like while sober?”

“Hell no!” Alex replied a little too fast, just the idea made him look nervous and he was probably working a knot in his stomach at just the idea of confessing, he could still remember being nervous when he was drunk, god only knew what it’d be like if he did it sober.

You clacked your tongue before shaking your head, “I know it’s scary, but you should just be honest with her and tell her.” It wasn’t an appealing idea, you understood, but at the end of the day if she wasn’t interested in it would be better for him to know and move on. You hadn’t known him for more than a few hours but Alex seemed like a sweet guy he deserved someone who could love him for who he was and only him.

“And if she doesn’t like me back…?” He murmured, finally beginning to slurp on his noodles as if already digging into comfort food of a post breakup that never even began. It made you wanna laugh because the feeling was oddly mutual but you refrained due to his eyes that seemed distant and broken under such an idea of her not liking him.

You offered a sympathetic smile before replying, “Then you’re better off with the truth and walking away knowing that there is no hidden feelings and there was no other outcome possible. I know the idea hurts, but you can’t stay stuck on someone who doesn’t love you, and the only way to find out is if you just ask her. Who knows maybe she does like you.” Your smile brightened as you passed him a wink, beginning to dig into your own meal.

Alex sighed before nodding, “You’re right...thank you for listening to me by the way- never thought i’d pay a stripper for advice.” He gave a small laugh, and for the first time all night you let out a genuine one of your own.

It was ironic but people often seeked advice in the oddest places. You ended up having a pleasant conversation with him before finishing up your meal, Alex- had insisted on walking you home, saying he wouldn’t feel comfortable or okay letting you go home so late on your own.

It wasn’t until you abruptly paused outside of the restaurant when you checked your phone, that you swallowed thickly, your notifications had been blown up by several missed calls and a wall of text from Jungkook- who had apparently saw the money exchange with Alex at Cherry Bomb and had gotten a completely wrong impression on what had happened.

“Everything okay…?” Alex asked a little hesitant at the sight of your white knuckles gripping your phone and your blurry vision. Angrily you rubbed your eyes, mad at yourself now for wanting to cry. But it just made you so mad!

How could he expect you to comply when he had been such a dick the past two days. Obivously he was concerned for your safety, but he had went about it in the completely wrong way, leaving you feeling more dumb and angry then cared about or safe.

You understood the risk you were taking when you agreed to go with Alex but this guy didn’t have a malicious bone in his body, he was completely in love and it showed.

“I’m fine, he just…” You forced the sob down your throat as you shook your head, walking side by side with him as you sighed, “He just makes me so angry.” He gave you a look of sympathy as you both made your way back to your apartment.

Pushing his hands into the pockets of his jacket he looked like he was in contemplation for a moment before asking, “Why is it complicated with your mentor?” You frowned at the question, you had answered plenty about your mentor at Cherry Bomb, but never any pertaining to the actual nature of your relationship.

And so you did the only thing you could, you told him everything. The whole walk back you did your best to explain how you ended up auditioning, how Jungkook had persuaded you to take the job. How he rarely ever referred to you by your name and how well you both got along, and then you told him about your boyfriend and how you finally decided this was the end. You were going to talk to him and break it off but now Jungkook was giving you the cold shoulder and you were at a loss of what to do.

“I’m sorry…” You sighed, glancing at your feet as you stopped in front of your apartment complex, “You paid for me to listen to you- not the other way around.” You rubbed the back of your neck and you could feel your face heating up as you frowned before looking up at him.

Alex found himself laughing, looking down at you with a smile as he shook his head, “I paid for your opinion on what I should do, and in the end it was the same as Minjun’s. I just needed to hear it from someone else, the least I can do is listen to you as well. Besides, it seemed like you needed to blow off some steam, you and your mentor seem like you have a pretty intense relationship.”

Sighing you gave a weak smile, “Yeah that’s one way to put...anyways thank you for walking me home. Tell me how it goes with Jiwoo when you get the courage to confess.” He laughed before nodding and saying goodbye.

Just like most days you were drained and ready to sleep off the day, you had hoped today would be the day you’d talk to Jungkook again, but all it ended with was even more strain between you both. Dejectedly you pulled out the key from your bag as you stood in front of your door before going to unlock it.

You paused at noticing it already half shut, you always locked the door before leaving...Warily you glanced around your surroundings before pushing the door open. Everything seemed in its normal place and undisturbed, the few lights you left on were still bright and it wasn’t until you saw the figure sitting at your table, a cold cup of coffee next to him that you scoffed with raised brows, “Hanjae? What the hell are you doing here?”

It made sense of course, but you couldn’t keep the surprised look off your face. When you said you’d talk later this was not what you meant. Hanjae took a sip of his drink before he rose his brows, “Here to talk. Where the hell have you been? It’s almost four in the morning!”

Closing your eyes you groaned, you were tired, both physically and emotionally and you really didn’t want to do this right now. You had been planning a whole speech to let him down as gently as possible, but due to his force of hand you were just going to have to be blunt, “Does it matter? Look, I’m gonna be forward with you, Hanjae. We’re done, I’ve done a lot of thinking the past week and I don’t love you. You don’t love me, it doesn’t make sense for us to stay together.” You wished your tone was gentle, you wished you could give him a soft expression. You wished for a lot of fucking things today but none of that was going to happen and you weren’t about to start here.

Hanjae almost instantly shot up from his chair, “I do love you! Why is that so fucking difficult for you to understand? I’m not just going to sit here and let you ruin our relationship because you’ve let even more bad influences in your life. Who the hell was that by the way?” He almost sneered out, his expression flaring and you had already pulled out your phone.

You had never seen him so tense before and so much strong anger in his voice, it admittedly scared you, “He’s a coworker I hang out with- Would you stop saying everyone I hang out with a bad influence?” You turned away from him with gritted teeth, hurriedly texting the only person you could think of to come get you, Rosé. You knew if Jungkook got involved things would escalate, Hanjae knew where Seulgi lived and of course Namjoon and Seokjin were still at work.

“I’m sorry you still have feelings- but I don’t okay?” You turned to face him, already hearing the notification from Rosé and hoping she was on her way, “I don’t know if I ever did honestly. Can you please just go? I’m tired and I need to sleep. I wish I could give you another answer but I’m breaking up with you Hanjae, I can’t keep living like this.” You stepped away, originally going to open the door and see him out but you were automatically yanked back by his harsh grip on you.

Hanjae instantly had you pinned to the wall, his grip bruising your upper arms as he snarled, “You think you have a choice in breaking up with me? Sorry baby but I lead this relationship and it isn’t over until I say so.” The nickname you had become so used to Jungkook using sounded like venom on his lips as you instantly shifted wincing in pain, “Now let’s go to bed so you can sleep off this ridiculous bullshit.”

“You’re fucking pyschotic!” You snapped out as he began to shuffle you both away from the wall as you tried to pull from his grip, “Hanjae stop!” His grip on you only got tighter as you winced again, hearing another notification go off on your phone, “Our relationship is over whether you like it or not you aren’t going to change my mind!”

You were pushed back against the wall again, this time pain throbbing your back as Hanjae snapped down at you, furious at your words despite their truth, “Oh and who’s gonna stop me huh? Not your little shitty friend, nobody wants you angel hate to be that wake up call but the only person on this planet willing to give you the time of day is me. You think he’ll ever care about you the way I do? He won’t.” You weren’t sure if the tears watering in your eyes was from the pain shooting in your arms from his grip or because of his words. Hanjae’s grip on you was suddenly broke at the shocking sight of blonde hair.

Your vision was blurred from your tears but the very clear image of Jimin was seared into your mind with one of the most scary glares you had ever seen, Rosé was suddenly by your side, arm wrapped around you with her own frightened expression as Jimin demanded you both go. Rosé was quick to guide you out of your apartment, hurriedly getting you down both sets of stairs and into the car that had been parked as she sat in the back seat with you, “Fucking christ,” She murmured out, “I was scared shitless when I got your text! A-are you okay? Did he hurt you?” You hadn’t even realized how badly you were shaking until she wrapped both of her arms around you, hugging you tightly.

“I-I’m fine...just…” You couldn’t form any words, mainly in shock at just how psychotic your ex boyfriend had truly become, had he always been like this? Your mind was racing ninety to nothing in trail of figuring out if that was the case. You had always been too intimidated to speak up before hand, generally not liking conflict with your boyfriend. Had you realized it would’ve blown up the way it did, you might’ve never left him out of fear, or alternatively this could’ve been avoided and you would’ve left before he had gotten so attached.

“Hey it’s okay,” Rosé cooed out noticing the tears blurring your vision again as she dug her nose into your hair, “We can talk about it later, you’re safe now.” You finally let a stifled sob escape your throat as you closed your eyes, leaning against her as she stroked your hair, the comfort her warm body brought to you and the distinct smell of perfume calming your senses.

You jumped at the sound of the car door opening, freaked out for a moment at the idea of Hanjae marching down here to get you and force you back into your own home- which he wrongfully invaded due to having knowledge of where you stored your spare key. Instead you were greeted by Jimin who looked extremely ruffled but turned the car on nonetheless before driving back to you assumed Rosé’s home.

The whole ride had been swallowed in silence until you were sat down on the couch of Rosé’s apartment, hers a fair bit nicer than your own and she even had a custom pole placed between the kitchen and living room. She had wrapped a blanket around you and that’s when you noticed all of the pillows and blankets thrown everywhere and a sheet laid out on the ground, “We were having a movie night when you texted,” She explained with a small laugh though you could tell it was sheepish as if trying to lighten the mood, “I’m glad Jimin was here.” Her voice sombered as she sighed.

Jimin leaned back into the couch as he collectively sighed with her and you did as well, all of you looking both drained and exhausted as he asked the million dollar question, “I’m glad I was too...But Y/n, why didn’t you call Jungkook…?” You avoided his gaze that softened as your lips quivered, “You know he would’ve been over in a heartbeat, no matter how petty he is he’d never ignore anyone in that situation, especially you.”

“It’s already been a long night,” You tried to keep your voice level as your eyes began glossing over again, “If he got involved things only would’ve got worse. I’m sorry for bothering you guys…” It was their one day off and you had ruined it, leaving an empty pain in your stomach as your tried to keep your hiccup down your throat.

“Oh honey,” Rosé frowned as she grabbed your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as her own lips quivered, as if your words deeply upset her even though she refused to let it show on her face, “Never apologize for that, if you hadn’t of texted when you did there’s no telling what would’ve happened. Do you want me to call him…? I’m sure he’d come over immediately.”

You stiffened at the idea, had things not gone the way they did today you would’ve called him yourself, but now? You honestly didn’t want to see him, he hurt you more than you were willing to admit and all you wanted was a few decent hours of sleep.

Both Jimin and Rosé frowned as they exchanged glances, maybe hoping your mentor could give you comfort that you clearly needed, but you weren't sure if you could trust him, not when he had been so hot and cold, and he was so demanding yet callous of your own emotions as if they didn’t exist, it hurt, it hurt just to think about the conversation you had shared with him earlier.

His concern completely overshadowed by his condescension making you feel like you were nothing but a toddler with a lack of good judgement. Having to narrow it down- you supposed what the core of your hurt came from was the fact that his own lack of trust in you was very apparent.

“I just wanna lay down and get some rest…” You wiped your eyes, not realizing the tears that had trickled down your cheeks as Rosé sighed sadly before nodding, pity in her eyes as she stood up, gesturing her arms as you got off the couch, letting her wrap an arm around you before leading you to what you assumed was her room, “You can rest here for the night baby, do you need anything? I have some spare pajamas in my dresser, feel free to raid it for something comfy.”

“I’m okay…” You sniffled out, wiping your eyes before giving her a small smile despite your eyes persisting in their watering, “Thank you…” Rosé gave you a much brighter smile of her own as she nodded, tugging at a strand of your hair before bidding you goodnight.

Being left alone in her room, you took a moment to inhale looking around before ultimately deciding you were comfy enough as it was. All you wanted was nothing more then to crash and sleep away such an awful day, and that was exactly what you did.

Your body was stiff, tired from being on your feet almost the whole day and your back was aching dully as pain throbbed into your arms at the slightest movement. The pain had waved over you the whole night but it was the delicious smell of pancakes that had you woke up from your deep slumber.

The window had been cracked letting in the nice cool breeze from the morning air and the sun shined through the window delicately, not too bright, but not too grey either. For a brief moment, you had forgotten where you were until memories of the previous night washed over you. Rubbing your eyes you sat up with a wince before groaning, rubbing your back as your face twisted into pain while glancing at your upper arms that sported dark purple bruises in the familiar shape of Hanjae’s hands.

Last night had been very real and the marks that stained your arms was only proof of its existence. It wasn’t until you grabbed your phone from the messy bed, realizing it must’ve fell from your pocket while alseep that you checked the time, eyes almost popping out of your head at the time. You slept in until fucking 9AM? Practice would be over in a half an hour! You could rush to make it but by the time you would’ve got there it would be useless, groaning you flopped down onto the bed as you pressed your hands into your eyes, fuck! Why didn’t they wake you up?

Pushing yourself off the bed you ran a hand through your hair before making your way to the living room, you stopped short at the kitchen though when you saw Jimin flipping the last of his batch of pancakes onto the plate, “Morning, did you sleep well?”

“Why didn’t you guys wake me up!?” You instantly cried out in demand as you trudged over, unable to deny the plate he handed you as your stomach growled, and the smell of pancakes and bacon- though was more of an american style breakfast you’d never deny a sweet treat first thing in the morning.

Jimin flicked your forehead causing you to rub the spot with a whine as he replied, “Babe you just got out of a fight with your ex asshole that was borderline domestic abuse, you deserved a morning to sleep in. Now sit down and eat you can tell me what happened meanwhile.”

You sighed before sitting next to him on the bar countertop, cutting your pancake before shoving as much as your chopsticks would allow into your mouth.

You started at the beginning of the night, explaining to Jimin in detail the reason you had been so adamant about calling Jungkook- even giving him your phone to read through the conversation himself, “Who did you go out with though? If you don’t mind me asking, usually we only take extra cash if a client is looking to buy us for night.” Jimin asked curiously, handing your near dead phone to you as you closed it.

“There was a guy there who needed a second opinion on what to do with a girl he really liked. I’m not stupid Jimin I-...I knew-” You sighed in frustarted, trying to convince yourself more then him as he sighed, gently grasping your shoulder as he gave it a comforting squeeze.

“You’re a grown woman Y/n, I know you aren’t stupid and I would never doubt your judgement with a client. Jungkook is…” He trailed off, thinking for a second before he clacked his lips, “He cares about you, a lot. He cares about all of us to the point he gets overprotective in the process, but it doesn’t change the fact that he cares. He just doesn’t know how to show it, and eventually he pulls away when he feels exposed vulnerability and ends up pushing everyone away to protect himself. Or at least that’s my theory,”

Jimin wrapped an arm around you, delicately to avoid press against the bruising of your arm, “I know it’s frustrating, and isn’t fair for you but Jungkook does care, and if you give him a chance, even if he’s an insufferable ass who doesn’t deserve it-” He cracked a smile making you stifle a giggle, “He will open up, and when that happens…Jungkook is- he’s a good guy, he’s loyal to the ones he loves for life. He’ll defend us in a heartbeat and would never turn any of us away when we’re in need. But he’s still human Y/n. He has a lot of toxic traits and faults he has to work on, we all do if you wanna put it into perspective.”

“You are right…” You sighed, glancing down at your lap as you sighed, taking in Jimin’s words. He was right of course, Jungkook...for all the bad that had happened so quickly, you had plenty of good memories of him as well. He really was someone you’d like to go too in a time of need, and you were sure Jimin was right, he’d throw hands with any soul that dared cross his friends. But you couldn’t help but feel a little apprehensive still, “I just...I need to see that from him, himself. You know?”

Jimin gave your shoulders one last squeeze before he let go nodding, cracking another smile as he laughed, “Oh you’ll see, if you stick with that dense asshole he’ll prove himself, he always does.” You couldn’t help but smile a little at his words, Jimin seemed closed to Jungkook, at least enough to be one hundred percent confident in him. You could only hope, maybe one day you’d be able to say the same. But right now, your feelings were wilted and crumbled and the hurt that had been stabbed at you from so many directions had took a heavy toll on you both emotionally and physically.

All you wanted now was to at least make things right with Jungkook, and then you’d at least be back on the right path to building a proper relationship with him again. You ended up finishing breakfast before taking you home, explaining Rosé decided to head into practice and smooth things over with Jungkook as best she could while explaining to him what had taken place the night before with Hanjae.

You were surprised mainly because he had yet to text you all day, she must’ve did a good job. Jimin had made sure to come inside with you for a few minutes to make sure the apartment was vacant and thankfully it was. You had sent him off with a thank you and goodbye before allowing yourself to relax, you rarely ever skipped classes but today, you’d make an exception.

It had been a few days more of a half a month you had been working at Cherry Bomb and not in one single of those days, did you feel replenished and renewed as tonight as you packed up for work. You had laid around the majority of the day, did some cleaning and tended to your little succulents. It was such a nice change of pace and you had been a happy camper all around before heading off to work.

All of the negative energy you had been so bogged down and for once, you were glad you decided to stay in. Your physical health had took such a beating for so long you hadn’t even realized how taxing and exhausting your everyday schedule was.

Pushing the doors open to Cherry Bomb you had been determined to perform your best tonight and hopefully make a little more money than the night before. You had only danced yesterday and tonight would be your last chance for the week as upper management, like you had been told, mainly kept you working on the floor.

Taking a seat at the wide vanity you ignored everyones comments and occasional stares as you begun your makeup making sure the crease had been cut sharp and hopefully this pair of fake lashes wouldn’t end in ruins like your pair last night had. Spraying the setting spray on you stood up before getting changed into the black minidress, the lace bodysuit you wore underneath was where it counted due to its deep plunge and even with the dress on you could feel the pressure of cleavage sticking against the tight material.

Sitting back down once more you had pulled on the fishnet stockings, making sure to fasten them as well as you could to your garter belt before putting on your heels and making your way backstage. Tonight was all about your celebration this far into your new, hopefully short lived, career.

Leaning back against the pole you had waited for the first few counts before turning to face the audience, letting the music take over with more ease then the first few times you had been on stage. Letting your hands drag up your body as you sunk down to your knees, something about performing had changed or maybe it was the day of being able to relax that had helped?

You weren’t sure what had changed but you enjoyed it and clearly the crowd did as well when you felt the money pile around you. You were positive the feeling would never get old.

After the song had ended you quickly gathered the money before blowing a kiss to the crowd with a smile before heading backstage, pulling the robe over your body you sat down in your chair as you neatly stacked the ones and began to excitedly count them.

“I wish the others weren’t such hardasses, I mean it’s hard to not feel at least a little bit bad for her,” You paused at the sound of a fillers voice, there were only two other girls in the room- poledancers if you remembered correctly, “She’s just a trainee- and to be put in that position.” The girl sighed sinking into her seat.

“What?” You couldn’t help but ask as you raised your brows, curiosity filling you, you were aware you weren’t the only trainee at Cherry Bomb, what had happened? You found, the pole dancers were a little nicer than the dancers, they wouldn’t blow you off, right?

The girl frowned as she answered, “Oh we just had a code black happen- one of the girls got sexually harassed. Sounded pretty bad,” She explained while cringing slightly, pity in her eyes before humming, “What was her name….?” She glanced towards her friend.

The other shrugged before putting on her heels, “Um...Seulgi I think?”

You instantly shot up out of your chair, your heart dropping into your stomach at the sound of your friend's name. It couldn’t have been Seulgi, right!? Right? Your heart rate had spiked and your hands were shaky as you bolted for the door, the need to find your bestfriend flooding your whole body as you pushed through the hallway.

You had almost crashed into Namjoon as you both locked eyes, almost as if he knew your exact thoughts he instantly grabbed your forearm leading you through the busy hallway, “She’s in Hoseok’s dressing room, nothing actually happened but the guy came pretty close. Seokjin’s with her right now while security and Hoseok are taking care of the guy.” He stopped in front of the plagued door with Hoseok’s name on it before opening it.

Your heart dropped into your stomach at the sight of your friend, tears streaming down her face and her whole body violently shaking while covering in a flimsy robe. Seokjin sat by her, making sure to keep his distance while murmuring soft words of comfort to her when you quickly entered into the room.

As soon as you sat down Seulgi lunged for you, wrapping her arms around you as she sobbed, “I-I was so scared!” You buried your nose into her hair, eyes watering at the messy state your friend had been left in as you stroked her back, “It’s okay, you’re safe now, you’re safe Seulgi.” But she only kept incoherently babbling as she sobbed against you, her breathing heavy and uneven as you squeezed her tightly.

You were absolutely horrified and felt completely helpless, unable to do anything to reverse the damage that had been done. You understood that risks of your job, but too actually see it. Too actually endure your bestfriends sobs because someone tried to force themselves on her? It broke you to your very core leaving nothing but an angry void left.

Your job didn’t give anyone the right to do that! Stripper or not you were still human, you still deserved to be treated as such and yet here your bestfriend was with that very right almost ripped away from her.

Hearing the door open you noticed it was Hoseok, his knuckles were bruised and swollen but his eyes locked onto his trainee as hurried into the room, sitting down on the couch as Seulgi instantly launched herself into him, the shaking of her body ceasing as she buried into his neck as he softly comforted her. The sight broke your heart.

You noticed the other soloist’s filing in all with broken expressions as Rosé’s lips quivered, “Is she okay…?” You wordlessly nodded, your eyes staying on Seulgi’s curled up position, unable to fully process the sight before your eyes. Seulgi had always been the stronger one out of you two, she was always the one hugging you when you cried. To see her so weak, so vulnerable the pain ached in your chest for your friend, feeling a little better to see her mentor already helping her recover even in the smallest way.

Seokjin stood up as he sighed, finally speaking up over the heavy, thick tension of the room, “I’ll handle things with Sejin and Bang, everyone should get back to work, are you clocking out Hoseok?” He glanced towards the male as he asked, a soft note in his voice as he backed towards the door.

Hoseok nodded, his eyes only flickering to everyone else for a brief moment as he answered, “Yeah, I’m gonna stay with her. I can handle things from here.” The air was still somber and only Seulgi’s cries filled the room as everyone slowly dispersed. You didn’t want to leave Seulgi alone but you knew it was for the best, she was in good hands with her mentor and you knew if it was you…

You let your eyes trail to the only figure that lingered: Jungkook stood as if waiting for you, his eyes meeting yours for the first time in what felt like forever, his expression was unreadable but heavy making you break his gaze as you sighed.

You weren’t sure what you would’ve done, or who you would’ve went too if it happened to you, if anyone at all. Standing up you wrapped your arms around yourself, checking the clock only too see your next groups dance had just finished on stage. At least you’d be able to go home and sleep off the day, it seemed those were filling your week more and more.

Closing the door you could barely let go of the knob before you were suddenly hauled into a tight embrace causing you to jolt at the unexpected skinship, “Fuck- you scared me to death...” Jungkook’s voice was muffled as he buried his nose into the crook of your neck, his chest pressing firmly into your back and his arms kept you locked into place, “I’m sorry,” those were the next words to tumble out of his lips as he squeezed you a little tighter, “God- I’m- I’m so sorry Y/n. I didn’t have any right to treat you the way I did and- and I don’t- fuck I’m sorry.”

Your lips were already quivering and you were well aware of the wet, warm tears rolling down your cheeks, you hadn’t realized how much you missed him until he was right behind you, apologies escaping his lips left and right, “Shhh don’t cry babygirl, I know I was a total asshole and I don’t have a good explanation and I have no right to ask but please forgive me.” His words only spurred your tears more as you let your shoulders bounce from the gentle sob that escaped your lips making him hug you tighter.

“It- It fucking hurt- you know that? You have some- some...nerve to just swoop in and try to fix everything with a hug,” You finally spoke trying to keep your voice from cracking as you attempted to keep your voice level with the tears streaming down your cheeks, “And- and fuck you! Because it’s working and I- I hate it! You’re such a dick!” You snapped with a sob while babbling, his grip on you loosened and you could even hear a faint laugh escape his lips as you stomped your foot, “I’m- I’m being serious!” You really weren’t but your petty anger was getting the better of you despite your sniffle.

“I know you are babygirl,” Jungkook murmured, his voice a little amused and for the first time, you were relieved to hear his nickname for you escape his lips, as it turns out you prefered it on his lips more then your own name, “I am a dick,” His voice sombered as he sighed, “You’re too good for me babygirl...I know I don’t deserve it but I still want you as my trainee: mine. You don’t have to stay...but-”

“I’m not leaving Cherry Bomb you dipshit!” You cried out indignantly before finally turning around and throwing your arms around his neck, pulling him now as you buried your face into his neck, “Yes you pissed me off- made me cry more than humanly possible but I’m also aware of how much of a sensitive piece of shit I am,” You sighed before tightening your grip around him, not realizing just how much you had genuinely missed Jungkook, you missed his banter and his dumb smirks and innunedos that had you snapping at him with blushing cheeks, you missed the way he called you babygirl or insisted on another silly petname instead of just using your real name, you missed him, “I’m not leaving Jungkook.”

You felt his previously tense body suddenly relax at your words as his grip on you tightened, despite the short time you knew him, you also saw him everyday, almost all day long. Jungkook had become a big part of your life, you didn’t want to lose him when he always brightened your day.

“Thank you.” He murmured gently, pressing his forehead into your shoulder before pressing a gentle kiss against the skin, eyes closed as he murmured, “Stay the night with me baby, I...ah fuck- I can’t…” he exhaled sharply as if annoyed with himself at being unable to form a proper sentence, “So much shit has happened and a lot of it’s my fault. I was freaking the fuck out when I saw you leave with that guy- I can’t...I could never- and then Hanjae? That guy…” His jaw was clenched and you could hear the brittle anger in his voice, “I swear I could fucking kill him...And then the code black-?”

He stopped short of his sentence, forehead still pressed into your shoulder and his eyes squeezed tightly shut as his arms coiled around you further, “When they said trainee I- I- fuck- I thought it was you. After everything that’s happened? I’m already pissed at myself but if that happened-...I’d never forgive myself, just please, stay with me tonight I don’t want you away from me after everything that’s happened.” His voice was near pleading, and his grip had become tight as if you disappear if he let go, he pressed another kiss into your shoulder as if hoping maybe it would entice you.

But all it did was soften your bruised heart, despite all of the hurt you had been through. There was no other arms you’d rather be in then Jungkook’s.

Digging through your bag you sighed, you hadn’t actually packed anything comfy for after work and stood on the cold tile floor of Jungkook’s bathroom that extended from his room, dejectedly looking down at your bag in disappointment as you tugged on the uncomfortable material of your jeans, the cropped top wouldn’t do either given you had begun wearing thongs outside of work to try and become more accustomed to the feeling.

You almost let out a whine at your luck before you sighed, unlocking the door you poked your head out as you felt your cheeks begin to burn, “Guk…”

“Hm?” He was laid out on the bed, his eyes had been previously closed and for once, you could notice the dark circles under his eyes and he looked exhausted. Opening his eyes he glanced towards you in acknowledgement.

“Do you have a shirt I can borrow…?” You felt embarrassment wash over you at the sound of his soft laugh as he got up from his bed, walking over to his dresser as he pulled out one of his infamous, large white t-shirts before walking up to the door, his eyes drinking up the bare skin of your collarbones as you grabbed the shirt with a timid, ‘thank you’ before closing the door.

Sighing you wanted to slam your head into the wall, you had stayed the night with plenty of guys before-...well only once outside of Hanjae- and even he usually preferred going over to your house. But something felt so intimate about staying with Jungkook, you couldn’t quite place your finger on it.

Pulling your clothes off you sighed before unhooking your uncomfortable bra and pulling the shirt over your head. You almost blushed instantly at the way his shirt drowned your body, the distinct smell of his cologne bringing you a strong sense of security that made you snuggle further into the material, Hanjae rarely ever let you wear his clothes, you always wondered why. It was so nice being in oversized shirts and hoodies.

The edge of the shirt dropped to the mid of your thighs and there was more than plenty of room to spare up top due to the stretch his broad shoulders made on the shirt, it was undeniably him. Just him. Opening the door you shuffled, feeling his eyes already on your figure as he drinked up the sight making you shift bashfully.

Just seeing the tired, sleepy smirk on his face had your ears hot red making his lips crack into a smile as he lifted his arms, “C’mere.” It was embarrassing how it only took one word for you to practically flop on top of him. Dropping your head down onto his chest you felt his arms loosely wrap over you as you yawned, an immediate tiredness washing over your eyes while bathed in his warmth.

“I can’t believe he did that…” You poked your head up in confusion at his words, his hand slipping down to your upperarm before gently thumbing the dark bruise, you instantly winced even under his gentle touch making his gaze darken slightly, “Why didn’t you call me babygirl?” He sounded a little hurt, even looked a little hurt as he frowned, closing his eyes as he dropped his head back against the pillow and returned his arm back around you.

“We both know things would’ve got way out of hand if I did…” You murmured, a bit of guilt stabbing in your stomach at the realization you didn’t trust him like you should’ve, even after your argument over text, he should’ve been your go to…”I’m sorry…”

Jungkook rolled over to his side, letting you both adjust before he grabbed at the back of your thigh, pulling it over his waist to cuddle you closer, “It’s fine babygirl- I know our texts probably didn’t help…” He sighed, pressing his forehead against yours as he closed his eyes, his fingers brushing against the side of your body, “Just...please call me next time- I don’t care what’s going on between us- I...I’m your number one okay? When you’re in trouble.” His arm suddenly squeezed around you, “You go to me. I never want you to feel like I wouldn’t protect you.” He muttered more to himself than you. You could feel whatever pressure had been left in your chest lift at his words, making you close your eyes as you pulled closer to him. For the first time in your life, you really did feel safe.

You felt yourself becoming sleepier by the second at the feeling of his fingers gently stroking your side, swirling random, gentle patterns into the soft material of his shirt you wore before letting them trail down to your hips. Focusing on the light brush of his fingertips as you let your eyes fall shut, they were warm and left a little tingling against the open skin of your thigh.

“Is that a thong?” You had never jumped harder out of a half sleep state as you did in that moment, Jungkook’s tone huskier as his lips brushed over your ear, you couldn’t tell if it was because he was half asleep himself or aroused, maybe both.

You attempted to scurry away from him as you sputtered, “I- I! I was almost asleep you pervert!” Your face was practically boiling alive and the flare in your ears returned as Jungkook quickly pulled you back against him, his lips pressing into your neck as if too try and sooth your embarrassment, “But you weren’t fully asleep,” Jungkook purred out, his tone sleepy as well his hand on the back of your thigh to pull it over his waist, this time hiking it higher forcing the shirt to lift up exposing your previously covered ass to the cold nip of the room.

“Mmm lace looks so good on you babydoll.” Jungkook rasped in your ears making you whine as you wiggled in his arms, his words, had almost shamefully made you wet. His hand instantly slipped up your thigh to cup one cheek before kneading against it making you involuntarily try to grind closer to him, “Jungkook!” You whined out making him chuckle before rolling you both over, caging you between his arms as you shrank as far into the mattress as you could.

You had been in many positions with Jungkook, but never truly underneath him on a bed. Seeing him hover over you, tired without a doubt but arousal glazing his eyes already had you worked up and he hadn’t even done anything, “So…” He licked his lips, a smirk quirking on his mouth as he let one hand stroke your hipbone making you lift them along with his stroke, “Feels like we’ve had this conversation before,”

You almost wanted to wack him on the head as you resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his dumb smile, “But you can just tell me to get off you,” He leaned in, sucking gently against your neck making your breath hitch as you squirmed beneath him, “You needed time to think things over with Hanjae…” you shuddered at the feeling of his warm tongue running over your skin, “Just say the word and we can go to bed.” He teased as he nipped at your skin again, his hands indulging as they ran over the side of your body.

“I broke up with him.” He abruptly stopped before sitting up making you strangle to keep the whine of objection leaving your lips as you lifted yourself onto your forearms, “What…?”

He store at you for a whole five seconds, pupils a little wide as he breathed out while running a hand through his hair, “Thank god…” he looked extremely relieved, a brief smile pulling on his lips as he lunged back down at you before playfully adding, “There can only be one daddy in your life babygirl and you know I was willing to fight him for it.”

“You are unbelievable!” You cried out making him laugh, his smile pressed against your skin as he excitedly pushed his hands under your shirt like a kid in a candy shop making you squirm. His hands were warm and the calloused brushed against your skin in all the right ways, “He wasn’t a daddy anyways.”

“Fuck,” He paused briefly as he pressed his forehead against your chest, “You sound so hot when you say that baby.” His words were sent straight to your already throbbing wet pussy that had you rubbing your thighs together, you assumed he was joking about being your daddy but somehow it really wasn’t surprising to quickly figure out he wasn’t.

The idea had you soaked and you were sure there was an embarrassing wet mark by now as Jungkook sat up, his eyes lidded as he licked his lips, pushing the shirt over your chest making you squeak, the warm confines of the material no longer covering you, leaving your nipples hard against the cold air of the room and your cheeks burning in opposition, “Don’t you dare cover yourself now baby,” Jungkook instantly grabbed your wrists stopping them as you whined shuffling beneath him, “Mmm, you’re so pretty baby,” He cooed out soothingly noticing your nervous shift of body, wrists still pinned by him as he licked a trail up your stomach leaving you arching your back for more as his foreplay nearly killed you.

Jungkook smirked against your skin, as if knowing you were putty in his hands and ready to be played with. The sexual tension had been killer between you both even now after being apart for those short few days, in fact, the absence only made his tongue feel that much better as he dragged it over your left nipple popping it into his mouth.

“Jungkook!” You whined trying to kick your feet beneath him as impatience built inside you, you weren’t used to so much foreplay and honestly it wasn’t even needed, all Jungkook had to say was one word for you to be soaked.

You felt a hard sting against your thigh making you cry out with a whimper at his hand that had just popped against your thigh leaving it with a slight throb of pain, “You know I really can’t stand brats,” Jungkook almost growled, a hand slotting between your thighs making you clamp around it, “You’re gonna be daddy’s good babygirl and wait, right?” His hand cupped your throbbing core as he squeezed it making you whine as you nodded, your back aching at being arched once more while his tongue returned to your other nipple, “Right?” He spanked your thigh once more, a little harder as it burned into your skin making you jump with a breathy moan.

“Yes...daddy.” You swallowed thickly, embarrassment covering your whole body as you looked up at him, his eyes completely engulfed on your figure before letting out a moaned sigh of his own, as if waiting for you to say those words.

Just as he was about to lean back over you a loud knock had echoed throughout the house causing you to jump, anxiety pouring through your whole body as you let out a panicked noise, Jungkook had instantly pulled your shirt back over yourself, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck as he cooed, “Hey shhh, you’re safe babygirl.” Your hands were still shaky with adrenaline at being planted back into reality as another more impatient knock came from the front door, “Let me get the door, I’ll be right back.” He pressed a kiss against your forehead before getting up and exiting the room.

You almost immediately collapsed against the bed, your body feeling like jello as you ran a hand through your hair, holy shit. Maybe that interruption was for the best, you weren’t sure you were ready for Jungkook, mainly too embarrassed at how noisy you had become, how he got you so easily wet. It must’ve been painfully obvious that despite not being a virgin you still weren’t experienced in bed.

One minute, turned into two, and then two turned into three and briefly you started to become worried. Was everything okay? Did he end up leaving with whoever was at the door? And furthermore, who was at the door at this hour? It was almost five in the morning. You felt worry shoot through your body as you fidgeted against the soft bed, he was okay, right?

Just as you let worry take over you relaxed at Jungkook’s returned figure, you quickly frowned at his expression, he looked even more tired then he had when he first brought you home. His face drained of nearly any emotion as he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “Sorry for the interruption,” He climbed back over you but you could tell whatever had happened- whoever was at the door.

He almost looked numb as he leaned down to press back against your neck.

Abruptly you pressed your hands against his shoulders making him pause as you finally asked, concern written in your voice, “Jungkook...are you okay?”

Silence filled the room for a brief moment, and that moment turned into a full minute before you felt him bury into your neck, and after another moment you felt his shoulders shake and the wet substance of tears drip against your skin that made your heart completely splinter. He was completely silent but his shoulders were shaking and you could hear a breathy light sob if you strained as his grip on you tightened.

Instantly you had your arms wrapped around him as you let your hand tangle into his hair, it had been such a long night already and just hearing him cry, feeling his tears drop against your skin made you hold him closer as you whispered, “Everything is gonna be okay Guk.” You pressed a kiss against the top of his head. You didn’t know why he was crying, and it didn’t matter, he had you to wipe his tears away and you weren’t about to let go of him.

Note: :) I quite like the ending of this chapter how do u guys feel though? 🤔 lots too process here 

Taglist: @loveherpersona @megladon1616 @pearlneedstosleep @sincerelyjeohn @jungkookies-golden-noona @ironically-indifferent96 @epiphany-playingwithfire @maboiisuga @kookphoria91 @taehyungiev13 @134340ismybitch @appreciatethefoolishness @hanhannguyen98 @lurkerarmy @lovelyjikook @repeating-seesaw-game @serendipity-secrets @kimvantaee @forevermoremagcon @timestandstillalittle @yanmi1 @expensive-bangtan-girl @blxckeffect @egyptianwitchbutwithab @kimcheeeeeeeeee @rather-not-sayy @pastel-i-decay @taeass @caitlinmarieeblossom @bokuandcoconutsarelife @desires-ss @jishookedout134 @369girlswannadrinkwine @flowingwiththewater @w-ing-ss

(Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

[dayasbun]

Fame - Angus Cloud (4)

Summary- a luckily timed audition leads to you falling for your new and unexpected co-star.

Warnings- okay HI welcome to my first multi chapter series woah?! this is actually so exciting for me like wow especially since angus doesn’t have any fics yet im just really really excited- so warnings! smut for sure, bad words, lotsa fluff, angst- everything in one basically. here comes a ride and I hope you enjoy :)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4 {reading now}

-

“Fuck right there- Oh my god please-” You moaned holding his hair. “You never had anyone eat your pussy like this before right?” he said eating deeper as you moaned and squirmed. “Only you baby, this pussy is only you-”

“Yo wake the fuck up, you making weird noises and shit.”

You sat up taking in a deep breath and inspected your surroundings. There stood a worried Angus with a mug in his hand. “I'm fine...” you said quite unconvincingly.

“You sure? I went to make you some tea and came back to you rolling around and groaning and shit, thought that strange netflix monster had come to you or sum.”

“The demogorgan-”

“Yeah that shit!” He sat next to you on the edge of the bed. “Nightmare?” he asked softly as he handed you the tea.

“Well not exactly...” You took the warm mug and took in a long swig of the warm goodness. It's not like you were just going to openly tell him ‘Oh no, I just had a dream about you eating me out and I loved every second of it.’ “Actually yeah, a nightmare.” you lied.

“I hate those, what was yours about?”

“I...a monster ate me alive and I couldn't stop it.”

Angus shook his head. “Damn mamas, I’m sorry. Those suck, I know its like 2 pm, but let’s eat some breakfast and try to forget about it.”

You nodded standing up and stretching “Thanks...for the tea.”

“Of course, don’t girls love tea? Ion know, I don't really be sleeping with girls that often.” He chuckled walking into the small kitchen.

“Tea is amazing!” You exclaimed, following him and sitting on the counter. “I love tea in all seasons, it has so many benefits.”

“Yeah? What’s some of them benefits.”

“Well green tea has amazing antioxidants, and is a more naturally caffeinated drink than coffee- with not as many negative results. But don't get me wrong, I really do love my coffee- anyway! Tea can help straighten and strengthen bones, brighten your smile, and help you lose weight!!”

“Oh wow.” He laughed “I didn't even care about all that tea shit, just wanted to hear your voice. But it was actually kinda interesting.”

“Yeah- and don't worry about a lack of my voice, I never shut up.”

“You right about that; but before you get all defensive, its aight. I like hearing you blab off about random stuff ion care about.”

You felt your face grow hot as you stifled a giggle that wanted to come out. “Thank you. I think I talk too much, but hey, can't really stop it y’know?” Angus nodded as he cracked 5 eggs into a pan. “You just be going off about stuff- actually you was sleep talking a little bit.”

Fuck.

“Yeah? What was I saying?” you asked innocently, hoping he didn't say what he was most definitely about to say.

“Well it was when you had that nightmare. Was the monster a cow or sum? Cuz you kept saying ‘Angus’ so like.” He turned to look at you “I figure it wasn’t me, but it was probably like...some beef monster.”

“Oh yeah, for sure a beef monster.”

“And that beef monster was eating you huh?”

You smoothly tucked your hair behind your ear and nodded with a sweet smile “Mhm.”

Angus gave you a quick up and down look before turning around and continuing to scramble the eggs. You had to change the current topic or you'd die of embarrassment, so you decided to bring up the topic of the show instead. “Do you know which scenes we’re filming tomorrow?”

“Yeah, no sex scenes until next week. Tomorrow they finna do you coming back and me reminiscing on the old times.”

“Okay cool. I have those lines down, pretty simple...” You mumbled.

“Yeah me too.”

A butcher knife couldn't even cut the tension in the room right now. Fuck, a chainsaw couldn't either.

“So like... I’m gonna go change and I'll be right back? Sound good?”

“You can wear summa my stuff. If you want- you don’t got to i'm just offering.”

“Oh that'd be great thanks! You know my trailer is just so far away!” You joked, knowing that it was only next door. You hopped off of the counter and followed him back into the room you two had just come out of.

“You just want one big shirt? Girls be doing that alot nowadays.”

“Yeah, thanks that'd be great...”

“So the biggest shirt I got got some barbecue stains on it- ignore it. I just went off on some spicy wings the other day-”

You burst out laughing and sat on the bed “Gus it’s fine, gimme!” You pulled your shirt off and held out your hands. He turned back around to find you only in your bra and shorts.

“Yooooo-”

“Its fine, we have to be completely naked with each other next week. Titties are just titties.” You took the shirt out of his hands and put it on. After pulling off the shorts that you wore underneath the shirt; that was more like a dress- and folding them, you walked back into the kitchen and reclaimed your spot on the counter.

“Well I know one problem we won't have!” You stated with a smirk.

“Yeah, and what's that?”

“Drake was worried you wouldn't be able to ‘get it up’...but honestly, I don’t think it'll be too hard.”

“Why you think that?”

“Look down.”

Sure, Angus wouldn't let you live down the wet dream you had about him for quite a while, but you'd never let him live down the boner he got- just from seeing you in a bra.

+

“So. Let's get to the real real.” Storm said pulling her knees up to her chest with a grin. “What the hell is going on with you and Angus?”

You, Storm and Daya were hanging in your trailer. You three were the only girls that didn't have scenes to film right now, Alexia, Barbie and the rest of the female cast were shooting night scenes. They had helped you set up the place to seem more homey, and now the newly formed trio you were a part of was in your bed with microwave popcorn, juicy juice, and twizzlers.

“Nothing Storm! Actually nothing I-”

“Nope, don't do that.” Z quickly cut you off. “Everyone can see it, it’s like what everyone on set talks about.”

“What?-”

“Plus, he talks about you too much, and you do the same with him! Earlier I said I wanted to pop some microwave popcorn and you started telling me about some conspiracy he told you about popcorn and microwaves, how they’re a secret way in for the government- like girl! Don't tell me you're so whipped that you're out here believing this stuff!”

“OKAY! Okay! I get it...look Gus is-”

“Gus?! You call him Gus?”

“Yeah?-”

“He literally hates that nickname with a passion. He gotta love you.” Storm chuckled grabbing a handful of popcorn.

“Okay well Angus is cute. He’s sweet and funny and caring- BUT. I won’t let anything happen between us, it’s like...business. This field is acting- and I don't think it would be good for us to do anything more, especially during filming.”

Z sighed. “Falling for your costars is weird.”

“Yeah.” Storm chimed in. “Our girl Daya been there and done that...but it never really affected her acting. She's so talented that she could keep it hidden off screen and focus on her character. I mean I know you talented Y/N...but you not my big sis like Z, so I don't really know how you'd be able to deal with it yet. Drake already seemed a bit iffy about it because he could tell you two had a little something going, but the thing comforting him is y'all are talented. So he knows you can do it- I know you can too.”

“Yeah he sent us a letter about it...it's just hard. I can't lose this role, I've come so far.”

“I don't think you’ll lose it. I think you'll be fine. Just keep a business mindset when on set. What goes on off screen and behind closed doors is your business, girl. Drake or nobody can stop that- Jesus can't even stop that!”

You and Storm giggled at Zendaya’s last comment. “Yeah yeah yeah...okay I get it guys. I got this- period.”

“Period.”

“Period...So were you one of those girls that watched all the Fez scene compilations on Youtube and drooled?” Storm teased you.

“No!” You said firmly, knowing you were lying.

“Oh she definitely was.”

“I wasn't!”

“I just don't see it! Angus is just not attractive to me, he looks like one of those guys that stop you at the gas station with a ghetto ass group of friends- he rubs his hands together and then screams ‘Hey baby lemme get yo numbaaaa!!!!’“

In response, you practically fell over laughing “Stoppp no!”

The rest of the night was filled with giggles and whispers, and by 1 AM, you, Z, and Storm were all huddled up in your little twin trailer bed. They snored softly but you couldn't seem to sleep. Just as you were .1 seconds away from drifting off, your phone buzzed next to you.

Angus☁️: u uppppp

-oh wow yeah that's not the most fboy thing ever to send at 1:27 am

Angus☁️:  see all you had to say was yes you didn't have to do allat

-can i help you mr cloud

Angus☁️: what typa help you offering?

-whatever help you need.

Angus☁️: you finna have some more beef dreams tonight?

-you finna get a boner if you see me in my bra again?

Angus☁️: maybe.

-then i'll say maybe too.

Angus☁️: you're too much

-i know i am, did you film today?

Angus☁️: ye i had some scenes wit jacob

-wit

Angus☁️: leave me alone

-you texted me

-and wow you sound really mature rn not at all like a five year old

Angus☁️: if i was w you rn id make you regret that

-was that supposed to be a threat or a way to try to make me sext

Angus☁️: both

-you should go text all the hoes you have waiting for you at home

Angus☁️: im texting them at the same time

-boy...

Angus☁️: im plAyin

Angus☁️: only you :)

-getting soft???

Angus☁️: no and i wish this was instagram dms so i could unsend it fuck

-fuck

Angus☁️: thats another thing you was saying during your ‘nightmare’

-STOP NO I WAS NOT

Angus☁️: yeah i know you wasnt lmao i just like messing w you

-you can mess w me whenever you want to

Angus☁️: oh bet????

-goodnight angus

Angus☁️: nah i want you to tell me about me messing w you

Angus☁️: damn you really left

Angus☁️: thats wrong 

Angus☁️: doing me dirty

-GTS MY PHONE KEEPS GOING OFF

Angus☁️: then put it on silent?

-NO

Angus☁️: ill stop being annoying if you come over here

-i cant, im w z and storm too

Angus☁️: shit okay well it was worth a shot

-why, what was you planning to do

Angus☁️: cuddle

-its fr time for you to go bed, i think your sleepiness is making you too soft and taking the hood away

Angus☁️: goodnight

-goodnight

Angus☁️: gn

-gn

Angus☁️: night

-night

Angus☁️: GOODNIGHT

-OKAY GN

Angus☁️: STOP REPLYING

Angus☁️: night

-

taglist:

@nikkixostan @melaninmarvel @celiajrs @siriuslycollins

[the-girl-from-number-4-blog]

I Read the News Today, Oh Boy

Roger Taylor x Reader

On the subject of artifice

Word Count: 7k! (concise? what does that mean?)

(i feel so so so bad that it’s taken me so long to post. also this was a request from @fairlysuitehearts a long long time ago, which makes me feel even worse for putting off - i wanted to get the story down! and it’s probably still shit, but i hope you like it anyway)

“THIS JUST IN: Y/N AND ROGER TAYLOR SHARING NOT-SO-SECRET GLANCES AT ALBUM RELEASE PARTY: PUBLIC DECLARATION SOON?

Y/N L/N and Roger Taylor were seen together at the celebration of the release of rock band Queen’s fifth album, A Day at the Races. 

The couple arrived together and were reportedly seen holding hands as they left the vehicle. Sources say they remained close throughout the night, and.....”

As you read the latest article in the gossip column, you grumbled lowly to yourself, shaking your head. The nerve of these journalists was preposterous and, quite frankly, impressive. You could never bear to be so invasive of another’s privacy, and even if you could, you wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to display such little shame. 

“What’s the matter?” Roger Taylor himself, the man who (rumor has it!) you’ve been dating for about a year (when will they reveal their obvious relationship?), asked you as he entered the recording studio. 

You sighed, tossing the magazine onto the coffee table. “They keep publishing this shit, but they’re just pulling it out of their arses for how much truth there is.”

He approached you, peering over your shoulder to look at the discarded tabloid. “So I see we were quite intimate at the party last week,” he chuckled. “I feel like that’s something you should have told me, Y/N. Why’d I have to find out this way?”

You backed into him purposefully, knocking him just enough off balance to allow you to spin around and face him. “Roger, seriously, this is ridiculous. How can you take this as a joke?”

You and Roger were not in any relationship. You were the band’s assistant and very close friend, but never anything more. You expected, when you took a job with one of the most promising figures in the music industry, that there would be a certain degree of unwanted publicity - but never to this degree, with such little veracity. 

“Nobody believes this stuff, you know,” he dismissed. “Can’t see why you let it get to you.”

You let out a frustrated huff. “You don’t get it. I’m getting calls every night from my family, just begging for details about our relationship - which, might I add, I simply cannot seem to convince them is entirely fabricated! You can’t tell me nobody believes it.”

“It’ll die down eventually,” he waved his hand. “Won’t be too long.”

He obviously didn’t understand how this was affecting you. It wasn’t the same with him; so what if people think he’s got a girlfriend? It gives him more publicity, and the groupies at his concerts certainly didn’t care that he already has a girl waiting (which he didn’t, but who were they to know that?)

You, on the other hand, were blacklisted from any other major music production company. After the entire debacle started, you’d looked into getting a job somewhere else (secretly, of course, as you were sure the boys would protest), just so the rumors would stop - but you were now known throughout the industry as the girl who shagged Roger Taylor to keep a position. 

You eyed Roger carefully. He really didn’t know how this impacted your career. He didn’t know to what extent this grounded you to Queen (not that you wanted to leave, per se, but it was always nice to have options), or how much of a bother it was that your mother wouldn’t talk to you anymore, since you’ve been “lying” about your love life for a year. 

You knew that something needed to change; you just didn’t know what. 

It was a chilly January morning, when the sun was hidden behind the heavy London clouds. The coffee holder in your arms warmed your hands a bit, but it was still too cold to be comfortable. 

Roger walked beside you, holding the second half of the order. It was Roger’s turn to get coffee for the rest of them at the studio, and since you usually didn’t go for caffeine but felt particularly drowsy that morning, you decided to tag along. He didn’t look nearly as cold as you, which was maddening. 

For all that it annoyed you to constantly be thrown into the limelight for your completely fictitious relationship with him, you quite enjoyed spending time with Roger. He was a charismatic man; when he was happy, which was often, his enthusiasm for life radiated from him, and permeated your own skin, making you feel the same way. He was a great pick-me-up, a natural and (probably not) unaddictive stimulant. 

Roger looked around as the two of you crossed the street, and you wouldn’t normally notice something so commonplace that, except he kept tossing his head back in the same direction. 

“What is it?” you asked.

He leaned in close to you. Speaking soft whispers into your ears, he sent warm breath which flirted against your neck like the wings of a hummingbird, sending a cascade of shivers down your spine and making the cold seem suddenly a touch more bearable. 

“Don’t look, but there’s a woman with a camera back over to your right.” They were the words of an urgent conspirator, and you knew immediately what he meant. 

You fought the urge to find that woman - who was undoubtedly a journalist, ready to publish her photographs right above some scandalous story detailing your imagined romance - and give her a piece of your mind, and maybe a bit more. “Let’s just hurry,” you grit your teeth and said. 

You’re not entirely sure what purpose it served, but Roger shifted the hold of his drinks to one hand and threw his other arm around your shoulders, as if to guide you back to the studio, to shield you from the capture of the photographer’s lens. You didn’t quite see the need, but you were thankful for the added warmth. 

When you got back to the studio, the others swarmed like bees to get their coffee. It amazed you that such an unpredictable and uncontrollable bunch as they could be made to heel so easily with just the scent of caffeine. 

“Oh, John, this one’s yours - and, wait, no, Brian, don’t take that one; it’s Freddie’s - okay, here, I think that’s all sorted.” You smiled at the boys as you apportioned their drinks, then grabbed yours from Roger. “Thanks.”

“No problem, love,” he said. The pet name didn’t really register; he usually used terms of endearment like “love” and “honey” when talking to you, or (you assumed) to most girls. 

The boys settled into their spots in the sitting area and ingested enough coffee to be fully alert for the proceedings before they all got down to business. Their latest album, just released, was on the shelves, and they had only to wait for the royalties, and to schedule a tour for the album in the coming months. Now was just their period of unwinding; they could never just leave the studio so abruptly, lest they lose all sense of direction and end up wasting all of their off-time, so they had to ween off gently. 

They took this opportunity to discuss tour dates. “I think that March would be a good time to start,” Brian proposed. “It’s only a couple months away, but it’ll give us all time to wind down before we head off.”

You nodded. “That sounds like good timing.”

Freddie turned to look at you. “So are you actually going to come on this one?”

You had always found ways to avoid them before; the constant travelling never seemed like something you wanted to do, since you didn’t know the band to well until now. When you first started your stint as assistant, you wanted to be strictly that, and nothing more. But, now that you could easily call them all friends after this last album, you reconsidered. “Never said that,” you sipped your coffee. “Just that it sounds like a good plan.”

Roger shook his head. “Ah, ah, no. You don’t have a say unless you agree to come with us. We need our assistant.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not your only assistant, you know. And besides, attending tours isn’t strictly in my job description.”

He shrugged. “It could be. We could change it and I know you wouldn’t quit.”

Yeah, wouldn’t, or couldn’t? you thought to yourself, but otherwise let the matter rest. 

“WHEN WILL THEY GO PUBLIC? ROGER TAYLOR AND Y/N L/N SEEN AGAIN!

Above is a view of the lovebirds taking a morning stroll to their studio, huddling together for warmth. These repeated sightings beg the question of when....”

You didn’t even read any farther. It infuriated you to no end, how blatant these lies were - and any repudiation or disaffirmation you could make would be seen as “the Lady doth protest too much, methinks” to the eyes of the journalists and the public. 

You began to pace around the studio. The rest of the boys and the technicians hadn’t arrived yet - you were usually first anyway, taking it upon yourself to both open in the morning and close in the evening, and to get the heater up and running before Freddie got there and complained. 

It would never sit well with you that these journalists wouldn’t stop. You did nothing out of the ordinary, and it was still feeding the fire. You couldn’t hold a civil conversation with your mother or siblings, and you’ve avoided talking to your friends from uni because you were sure they’d be even worse. You really hoped Roger appreciated how much you went through just to work for his band. 

The door swung forward with a loud creek and Roger stepped in, finding you furiously paving a hole in the floor. “G’morning,” he said, somewhat confused, but taking it in stride nonetheless. He knew that you’d tell him what bothered you if he needed to know. 

Which he most certainly did need to know. 

“Roger, this needs to stop. At this rate, I’ll be in hiding by next month - and even then, they’ll probably say I’ve gone on holiday to hide a pregnancy.”

You thrusted the new edition of the paper into his face, making him grab it and squint, trying to make out what it said without his glasses. 

He looked at the picture. It was the two of you from behind, taken by the photographer that morning the two of you got coffee together. It just so happened to be the moment when he had leaned in close, as if whispering sweet nothings in your ear. 

A wretched thought ran through your mind: did Roger, knowing that a reporter trailed behind them, lean in to purposely bait them into believing this lie? To give them more evidence? 

“Roger,” you said slowly, carefully, “did you plan this?” He looked sharply up at you. “Do you still think this is some great joke?”

“God, no, Y/N!” He was outraged. “I didn’t think that would be - okay, maybe I just didn’t think. I needed to tell you and I was afraid she’d overhear and take that as some invitation to approach. I swear, I didn’t want her to get that picture.”

You eyed him critically, and you could tell he was hurt by your accusations. In your defense, he always was a practical joker; and, sometimes, he didn’t exactly grasp the concept of boundaries. “Sorry,” you shook your head. “This is just really stressful. I know you’re not doing this on purpose. You wouldn’t.”

His expression softened. “Hey,” he said, coming closer to rub comforting circles onto your back. “It’ll turn out all right, okay? I promise.”

Looking at him, you really wanted to trust what he said. Everything he did was with the utmost sincerity; he truly believed that this could be made right. You weren’t so confident.

The two of you stood for a while like that, each in quiet contemplation over how to handle this great problem. The hand on your back stopped moving, but rested there, providing a much appreciated pressure; it reminded you that, even though it was Roger’s fault you were in this predicament, you weren’t alone.

“You know,” he said slowly, as if anticipating a rebuttal. This didn’t bode well for what he had to say. “The press won’t stop their theories until one or both of us is out of the public eye – which definitely won’t happen anytime soon – or until something happens.”

You tilted your head. “I don’t follow you. Wouldn’t something happening just make them more rabid?”

He shrugged. “Of course, to begin with. But then it’s old news, after it all dies down. Think about it. We give them what they want – say, for a month or so – and they get the full story. You and I, lovers, dating, whatever they want to call it. But eventually, it’ll just become old news. Neither of us can just step down, so we have to give them what they want – what the public wants – until they get fed up with it.”

It almost, almost made sense. “But, Roger, I’m not sure that would work. And besides, we aren’t actually dating, in case you didn’t know.”

He grinned. “And we wouldn’t have to be. We could pretend, just out in public, to be a bit closer than we really are. That’s all it would take.”

You crossed your arms and thought. Could it really work? Roger had admittedly been in the papers longer than you had; he’d probably know with more certainty what the press is likely to do. A part of you didn’t want to trust that he was right, simply because you yourself weren’t sure, but another part of you knew that it may be your best bet.

You would have a fake boyfriend.

“Well,” you said reluctantly. “What exactly would we have to do?”

He settled onto the couch, and you could tell that this would be an in-depth discussion. Well, it would have to be, you figured, so you sat and faced him.

“It would look to everyone as though we were dating,” he said. He watched you, as if trying to gauge your reaction – did he expect you to overreact? If he did, then he should have been there for the very first published story, not now. Now, you weren’t exactly immune, but you could handle it better.

“But we won’t be,” you clarified.

“No, of course not,” he said. “But I’m willing to bet that we’d be pretty good actors.”

And so you drew up specifics. There were certain things you’d have to make sure you do, if either of you suspect that there’s a reporter anywhere near. An arm around the shoulder was the sign that someone was close, so you knew when to really lay it on thick; but other than that, any time that you were out in public, just to be sure, you’d give each other random kisses on the cheek (which you did as friends, anyway) and hold each other’s hands (which would only be slightly uncomfortable.

“What about kissing?” Roger asked.

You were quick to respond. “Not on the lips,” you said. That was something you were certain of – you didn’t want to kiss somebody for show. It was too intimate an activity for you to fake. “Never.”

He whistled. “Never, okay,” he said, and made a note of it. “I suppose they’ll just have to do without kissing, then. May take a bit longer, though.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want to be that obvious so suddenly,” you reasoned.

“Maybe we do, though,” he said. “That’s the sort of thing that they would eat up – they wouldn’t think it’s too sudden or anything, especially since they’re expecting it.”

You shook your head. “No kissing,” you repeated.

“If you’re sure,” he let the matter drop. “A couple more things. You don’t have a boyfriend, right?”

Usually, when someone asked you this question, it was with a highly judgmental tone: you can’t get a boyfriend, right? Though you knew that Roger’s question in no way had the same inflection, the memory of answering so many times before brought a slight blush to your cheeks. “Nope.”

“Well, that’s good, then. ‘Cause it would be hard to pretend to date if either of us is going off with someone else. I know I’ll stop seeing girls, too.”

You laughed. “Is that possible?”

“Time will tell,” he said with faux solemnity. “Just one last thing – the end of this whole deal.”

“Will we need to have a public breakup?” That, you figured, might be easier than pretending to date in the first place.

His eyes widened. “No, no! The opposite, really. The whole point is to get the attention of the press, then to lose it. Let them forget, and just stop after a while. We can’t do any sort of public breakup; that’ll just bring up another mess.”

You felt a bit dumb; his plan made perfect sense. He must have been able to see your embarrassed expression.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. You’re not used to this stuff.”

You leaned back and sighed. “And I never want to be.”

You tell Freddie, Brian, and John later that day, once they all get to the studio. It’s something you can’t hide from them; and even if you could, it would be a terribly great betrayal, and you and Roger respected them too much to let that happen.

You couldn’t tell anybody else, though. Your mother believed that you were getting serious with him – not that you were on speaking terms with her yet, though. Your roommate even believed the publications, despite having seen no proof herself.

It wasn’t as hard as you had feared it would be, pretending to love Roger. That was probably because you did love him, just in a different way. You were completely comfortable holding his hand or leaning against him as you walked down the sidewalk. And he didn’t make it awkward, either; he took it naturally, like this was supposed to happen, and everything that happened before – or, rather, everything that didn’t happen before – seemed wrong.

The first time you really had to act the part in public was their first album gig at a stadium in London, before the tour was really planned out. You’d helped them set up their equipment and directed a few of the handymen who did the heavy lifting; such was your job. You did whatever was needed in the moment.

After the work was done and the band was in place, you took your usual spot off to the side of the stage to watch them perform. You let yourself go away with the music; you were incredibly lucky to find work with a band that was sounded good, with members who were fun to be around. The concert gave you time to really appreciate how good you had it, as opposed to how it may have been.

And though the newspapers hadn’t stopped, they weren’t not bothering you nearly as much anymore. You credit this largely to the fact that you expect the influx of theories and rumors. It’s proof that your – well, Roger’s – plan worked.

After the band stopped, the crowd milled around and chattered about the gig, how successful it was. Because of course Queen was a great hit. You’d never seen them with an audience not entirely captivated, including yourself.

As you waited for things to quiet down, you felt a warm pressure against your back, and an arm closed around your waist in a secure embrace. You could tell by the smell, of all things, that it was Roger.

“Hey,” you greeted, slightly surprised.

He rested his head on your shoulder and turned to face you. Through the corner of your eye, you saw him smirking.

“This is going to be some perfect publicity, love,” he whispered lowly, and you hadn’t realized how close he was to you until he spoke, and his lips brushed against the tender skin of your neck.

You couldn’t suppress the shiver that racked your body. “God, Rog, you need to stop that!” You made sure to say it lowly, and with a laugh at your lips, but part of you was serious.

“What, you ticklish?”

You were about to say yes, but the words died in your throat as Roger’s fingers splayed against the flat of your stomach, threatening to move. “Don’t you dare,” you said.

He chuckled, and just the vibration of that put you on edge. “I won’t,” he said, “if you turn around and kiss me.” This time, it was the words themselves that made you shiver. He could feel your rebuttal coming on. “Or, at least, pretend to. For the camera.”

He spun you around, and you let him. He locked onto your eyes. “Trust me?”

You smiled slowly. “Why not?”

There was a very good reason why not, in fact.

He brought a hand up to cup your cheek, and you knew – thought – that he would use it to block the fact that you wouldn’t really touch lips from the camera, which you suspected was somewhere in the crowd.

But instead of bringing his face so close to yours that you could almost touch, he pressed his lips to yours in a sudden and firm kiss.

The one hand on your cheek and the other on your waist, while neither forceful nor demanding, grounded you and stopped any hope you had of movement. You probably couldn’t have moved, anyway; your body was frozen in a shock that was a mixture of anger and excitation.

At first, it was just a firm, constant pressure. The only thing about it that made you feel like it was a kiss was the pure knowledge of what it was.

Then he started moving.

The pressure wasn’t so constant anymore. He caressed you and tilted his head, then swept his tongue against your closed lips. It was quite unlike anything you had felt before. The shock of sensation made you gasp ever so slightly, but it was enough to grant him entrance.

This, you knew, was a real kiss – not just by the knowledge that lips touching lips was kissing; by the electricity that shot from your head down to your toes, to the tips of your fingers, and across your shoulders. You were covered in gooseflesh, and the room felt hot and cold at the same time. It built up, and up, and up, and he was kissing you and it just wouldn’t stop.

Until he stopped.

He pulled away abruptly, leaving you standing there, eyes closed, frozen in place. Your body stopped, and the potential energy that had built up froze, too.

Your eyes flew open. “What was tha –”

He pressed a finger to your lips and shook his head. “Hush, now,” he told you, shooting his eyes off to the side. “We’ve got company.”

You narrowed your eyes and grabbed his arm, turning around abruptly. It didn’t take long for you to choose a direction and go with it – you couldn’t look like you didn’t have a purpose, now, because you were trying to prove a point. You needed to speak to him, now.

A secluded place was very nearly hard to find, but you eventually settled on a dark hallway behind the main stage, where only two women stood, smoking something that probably weren’t cigarettes, and paying you no mind.

Letting go of Roger’s arm and crossing yours, you spin around to face him. “What was that, Roger? We had a deal! No kissing!”

He held up his hands defensively. “Hey, I had to do something. They had a camera right there – literally right there.”

“You knew the terms!”

“Yeah, well, I thought it was stupid then, and I think it’s stupid now. Look, it only had to be once. Most people don’t get caught off guard like that too often – this’ll be our one and only, Y/N. Trust me.”

You grumbled, “I did, and look what happened.”

“Oh, come on. It can’t have been that bad.”

“I’m not saying it was!” You flinched. “I – I’m not saying it wasn’t, either!” You put your face in your hands. “Just shut up, okay? I’m mad at you.”

He chuckled and pulled you into a friendly embrace. “Oh, come on. It had to happen, and you know it. I just didn’t want to delay the inevitable.”

Part of you so strongly wished to hold onto your frustration, to hold strong to your convictions – but as you remembered the kiss, you can’t say that you regretted it. You were beyond livid with him, with his audacity to assume that he could just kiss you, when you specifically said that he couldn’t, but you told him so when you expected not to enjoy it. Now that you did . . .

No. You shook your head and pushed the thought from your mind.

You found that his hug calmed you down. Even though Roger was the target of your anger, only he could stop you from working yourself into such a fury. “You still shouldn’t have done it.”

“I know,” he said, but he didn’t quite sound sorry.

Moments passed as the two of you just listened to the hum of the crowd outside. Usually, Roger would have been out there, entertaining people and letting them entertain him – and despite your dispute with him, you were thankful that he’d chosen you this time for company.

You ended up sitting side by side, backs against the wall.

“So,” he said, completely casual, “that was your first kiss, right?”

You were taken aback. So what if it was? “Of course not!”

He laughed and shook his head. “Yes, it was.”

“Was not!”

“Was!”

“What makes you think that was my first?”

“Well, for one, your face right now. You’re red as a cherry. And second, the kiss wasn’t the best –”

“Excuse me!”

“Okay, okay, fine. It was just obvious that you weren’t exactly . . . experienced.”

“I’m not a slut like you, you mean.”

He bumped your shoulder. “I take offense to that.”

“You should. You can’t just assume I’ve never kissed before.”

“I really don’t need to.”

You huffed, exasperated, and closed your eyes. “This conversation is over.”

He shifted beside you. “Nope, it’s not. I can’t let you get away from me without imparting some of my knowledge unto you.”

You let your head fall onto your shoulder, looking at him sidelong.

“I’m serious. You’ve never had a steady boyfriend, have you?”

A clipped laugh escaped your lips. “Again, overstepping your boundaries, Rog.”

“Come on. I’m just trying to help. And, you avoided that question – just proves that I’m right. You haven’t been able to keep a guy for so long.”

You looked down, fiddling with your fingers. “Well, it’s not my fault,” you conceded. “They were just . . . poor fits.”

He turned to face you. “That’s exactly what I mean. By the time that we’re through with this dating game, I’ll make sure that you know what a good date is. You deserve to be happy with someone, Y/N, and I do hate to see you so lonely.”

You were about to refute that and say that you weren’t lonely; that you were perfectly happy by yourself. But you weren’t.

“We’ll go on real, proper dates. Or, at least, proper fake dates. We’ll go to restaurants, to films, whatever you want. You need to know how a good date is supposed to go, because judging by your lack of kissing experience, you certainly don’t.”

“You’re being quite presumptuous.”

“I have your best interests at heart.”

That marked a new act in the play that was your life “dating” Roger Taylor.

The very next day, tabloids exploded with three different photographs of your kiss. It was all the press needed to run wild, and you could tell that it would be weeks yet until they ran dry of fuel from the event.

The good thing about that publicity was that it meant no more kissing for you and Roger. You were mostly glad for this; you didn’t like the idea of nonchalant kissing. To you, intimacy was something serious. But a small, rebellious, and suppressed part of you knew that, once you had felt that spark – tasted the fruit, so to speak – you couldn’t quite forget it.

He held your hand constantly in public. It was such a frequent occurrence that he began to do it in private, too, and you found great comfort in the feeling of his skin against yours. You never expected to feel such physical attraction to something like this, but the kiss had brought on new parts of your imagination that you had never entertained before.

You grew attached to this new feeling. You woke up every morning, looking forward to his embrace. You longed for public excursions, so you had an excuse to rest your head on his shoulder and breathe in the scent of his hair. You felt bereft by his absence.

Never could you have known that playing with fire could have these consequences. You never expected to enjoy your role; you never expected to want it to be true.

In short, you’ve found enlightenment and can never forget it.

What made it worse was Roger’s pact to show you a “proper date”. Apparently, that meant taking you on romantic excursions, in or out of the public eye, to set your standards high in the future.

He would take you to the movies, then to a nice restaurant. Perhaps on a stroll of the park. It started as very tame, very friendly dates; you could easily forget the fact that you were supposed to be a couple. But when he started bringing you to secluded places – and by that, meaning places where nobody else will know you’re together – you began to wonder why.

A candlelit dinner at his flat one evening was too romantic and too private to be practical. You really felt like a proper lover, now; you’d been wined and dined, romanced in all the right ways. It was a pity that you weren’t really loved the way anyone would think you were.

The plates were abandoned on the table, the dying candlelight flickering. You had taken the wine and retired to the living room, where you were lounging on his spacious sofa as close as you could possibly be. The alcohol had put a drowsy sort of haze over your eyes, but since you were seated, you found it relaxing.

“Roger?” your voice was quieter than you intended.

“Yes, love?”

“Do you like me?”

You could practically hear him squint his eyes, trying to figure out what you meant. “Well, of course.”

You didn’t think to wonder if he had misunderstood your question; his answer made your heart flutter all the same. “That’s good,” you said, grabbing onto his hand and pulling it into your lap, then resting your head against his shoulder, “’cause I really like you.”

“You should be. I’m your boyfriend.”

You pouted. “But you’re not really my boyfriend, are you? It makes me sad, you know, to think that I have to pretend to have a guy as nice as you.”

He chuckled. “You think I’m a nice guy?”

“Well, no. But I love you anyway.”

You both paused, shocked in equal parts by your words. You were a bit drunk – not enough to ignore the fact that you just said to him something you couldn’t even say to yourself, but too much to think of a clever way to relieve the tension.

Roger wrapped his arms around you and pulled you ever closer. If you had looked at his face, you’d see an expression of serious contemplation. He didn’t know how to react to your sudden, albeit lazy, declaration. He didn’t know if you were serious, or if you meant it that way – it was easier to believe that you didn’t. He wanted to believe that you didn’t.

But did he really?

Eventually, the both of you fell asleep – the awkward pause too pregnant to move on from, but both of you too inebriated to do anything else, you both just closed your eyes against the world and found comfort in the sweet succor of sleep.

When you woke, your eyes were heavy, and it seemed to be a production to try and open them, so you simply didn’t. Your face was cool, but your body was warm, and you felt perfectly at peace. There was a faint yellow tint to your eyelids, which wasn’t out of the ordinary – it was morning light, softly reminding you to start your day.

There was that early-morning fog over your brain that stopped you from questioning where you were and why you were so unfamiliarly comfortable. You just accepted the warmth that wrapped around you on this slightly cramped space, the gentle oscillation lulled you into wanting sleep once more.

The nest that encapsulated you closed tighter around your waist, and it was an accepted pressure. You stretched your legs and let out a sighing yawn, still not opening your eyes, still not bothering to wonder what was holding you so secure.

“Good morning, love,” came a raspy voice from behind you, from around you. You felt the vibration against your back as the voice spoke. You froze.

The sudden rush of awareness hit you like a tsunami, and your eyes flew open.

You were in Roger’s flat. It took you a moment to remember how you got there; you knew that there was a falsely romantic dinner date, and then . . . talking . . . and then something.

“Er, morning,” you replied. Your throat was dry.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, shifting slightly, but not trying to move you away. You didn’t want to move.

“No,” you said, your heart pounding. “N-no, you didn’t.”

He sighed behind you. “Put your head back,” he said. “It’s too early.”

One of his hands coaxed your head to fall back onto his chest, and it fell with only slight resistance.

It seemed to you that he closed his eyes and fell back into a doze, but you couldn’t do the same. You closed your eyes, sure, but you couldn’t quite relax, knowing that you were laying on Roger Taylor’s sofa – on Roger Taylor – with his arms wrapped about your waist in the oddest sort of embrace.

You knew that Roger wasn’t awake enough to really realize what he was doing. Of course he wouldn’t want to hold you like this if he were cognizant – you were only friends, and this was decidedly not a friendly sort of position to be in.

As much as you tried not to think about it, you couldn’t help but wonder why this made you feel so good. For all it was awkward, it felt more perfect than anything else before it. It felt perfect like holding his hand felt perfect; it felt perfect like kissing him felt perfect; it felt perfect like the sun rising in the east and setting in the west felt perfect.

You betrayed your own attempt at restraint and let yourself fall into a peaceful sort of acceptance. It wasn’t so bad a deal, you figured, to be in this position. At least it was Roger, of all people.

After a while, during which you may or may not have fallen into a light sleep once more (it was quite impossible to tell), you felt Roger begin to stir once more.

One of his hands moved from your waist. The other remained, but you still felt deprived of its wonderful heat. You noticed now that, though you had no blanket of any sort, Roger had kept you warm enough. Your cheeks grew flushed at the thought.

“Roll over, baby,” he said groggily. “Careful, now.”

Slowly, so as not to poke him with your elbows, you twisted around, so that you were facing him.

When you saw the way his hair fanned about his face, the way his eyes were heavy-lidded, and just how relaxed his face was, unmarred by the strain of everyday expressions – it almost made you gasp. Maybe it did make you gasp. “Hi,” you said sheepishly.

“That’s better,” his lips quirked up in a lazy sort of grin, and his eyes found yours. It made your stomach clench. “How’d you sleep?”

He was acting so cavalier, as if this sort of thing happened between the two of you all the time. “You know, it was fine.”

Roger chuckled. “Well, I thought it was bloody amazing. I’ll admit it, Y/N, I sleep better with someone beside me.”

You adjusted your position, getting comfortable again. He didn’t seem eager to move anytime soon. “I’m not used to it. It’s not too bad.”

“Oh, how lonely,” he adopted a tone of fake sympathy, and it made you chuckle. “You’ll learn to love it.”

You tilted your head back. “I will?”

“Once I’m done with you, like I said, you’ll have men left and right. You’ll never have a lonely night again.”

“I imagine I’d get quite tired of people after so long.”

He looked off to the side and shrugged. You didn’t really feel your face getting closer to his, mostly because his eyes weren’t on yours anymore, which didn’t make you so aware of the distance between you.

But when he looked back at you, his eyes were so clear and so close. Everything was so close – your noses almost touched, and your lips, well, you didn’t want to think about your lips. But you couldn’t stop yourself.

You found yourself leaning even further in. It wasn’t even of your own accord. You were like magnets, some invisible force pulling you closer and closer. Roger felt it, too, because you watched his eyes flutter shut before closing your own, as well.

“Do you remember what you said last night?”

He said it so softly, reluctantly, like he didn’t really want to say it in the first place.

“I’m sure I said plenty. Can’t remember it all.”

“Please, try.”

You paused. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Roger.”

He looked at you, eyes narrowed, hardly looking sleepy at all. “No, I suppose you wouldn’t.”

You felt him shifting, to prop himself up against the arm of the sofa, so you scooted down, sitting more on his lap than lying against his chest.

“Last night, did I – did I do something wrong?” You almost didn’t want to know the answer. You hardly ever allowed yourself to drink for fear of what you might do.

He rubbed his eyes and shook his head. “You couldn’t ever do anything wrong, Y/N,” he said. “You couldn’t.”

“Then what’s the matter, Rog?” His sudden change in demeanor simply didn’t fit. “I really don’t get you. Sometimes you’re about to . . . then, you just change, like that.” You snapped your fingers. It wasn’t quite the resounding effect you were looking for, since you never were very good at it.

“It’s really nothing, love. Now, let up, I’ve got to shower.”

You shuffled over to the end of the sofa to let him get up and trod over to the bathroom. You fell back against the cushions, perplexed.

You didn’t exactly lie low the next few weeks, but nothing more escalated like it had before. You and Roger went back to the routine outlined by your deal in the beginning, and it was an easy, if unsatisfying deal.

The press was finally getting tired of reporting about the two of you, anyway. What interest was there in a stale, stagnant relationship, amid the scandalous termination of EMI’s contract with the Sex Pistols or the not-so-shocking disclosure of Elton John’s unconventional sexuality?

“There hasn’t been an article about us for weeks,” you said to Roger one afternoon as you all prepared to leave the studio. “That’s practically a century.”

He nodded, not looking up at you; he was shuffling through a few tapes. “Yeah, you’re right.” More shuffling. “You want an end to this, don’t you?”

You always had a natural inclination against lying, so you couldn’t automatically respond with the affirmative. “I mean, well – we really needn’t bother anymore, right?”

Roger turned around slowly, setting down the tapes and leaning back against the soundboard. He crossed his arms. “You’ve got to admit, it was fun, wasn’t it?”

You looked down to hide the smile on your face, but you couldn’t keep the laugh from your voice. “I’d have to say yes.” You covered your mouth with your hand as you giggled. Once he saw your laugh, you noticed his demeanor lighten. “I mean, we just fooled the entire press into thinking –”

“Into thinking exactly what they already thought,” he held up a finger for emphasis. “You see, that’s the beauty of the plan. We didn’t fool them into anything, not really. We just didn’t resist and they ran with it.”

He caught your eye and gave you a kind, happy smile.

Catching your hands, he held them in his own, and looked down at you. “Is there any chance that you’ll miss this?”

“Yes,” you say, because it was easier than trying to lie. “There’s a big chance.”

“I’ll miss it, too,” he admits, and it makes you feel something to hear him say it. “I’ll miss holding your hand.” He took a step closer, dropping one hand to grip your waist. “And I’ll miss holding you like this.” He pulled you closer and closer. “I’ll miss kissing you, most of all.”

You swallowed. “That only happened once.”

He let out a breath. It fell against your cheeks, making your skin tingle. “It really didn’t have to.”

Tilting your head to the side, you asked, “Roger, what are you saying?”

He didn’t shy away from your gaze this time. He held you with his large blue eyes, and you felt like you should look away, this time, but you couldn’t. “I’m saying that I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

You knew what he meant, somewhere in the back of your mind, but still, you said, “Then we can stop. We don’t need to, anymore.”

“That’s not what I mean, Y/N, and you know it.” The grip on your waist tightened as his other hand went there, too, holding you closer. Your noses were touching. “I want to kiss you so badly.”

Your eyes flickered down to his lips. “I think you should,” you say softly. “No more pretending.”

He captured your lips in a searing kiss. You brought your arms up around his neck, pressing your chest to his. It was much more intimate than you’d ever been with him, and the kiss, combined with the thousand other points of contact sent the most wonderfully violent shiver throughout your entire body.

“Roger,” you said in between kisses, “I think I love you.”

He chuckled. “I know.”

[kaspbrak-tozier-reddie]

hey! could you do stozier for “you burn me” quote?

Here’s some Stozier, no Pennywise. All are 18

Pairings: Stozier with a side of Benverly, hanbrough and a pining Eddie. 

Warnings: Underage drinking

Send me a quote and I’ll write a fic based on the quote 

(Doing this for any IT ship, rules: here)

———————————————————————

It is Summer before the Losers’ freshman year of college and they all want to make the most of it before they all go their separate ways. Well except for Richie and Stan who managed to get into Yale together, not to mention a dorm room. The lot of them sit in a circle on the floor of the barn at Mike’s grandpa’s farm. Sure it stinks of manure and animals but it was quiet and away from any form of civilisation (the house mainly). Mike had started a controlled fire in a vertically cut metal drum that sits on metal legs in the centre of the Losers Club’s circle.

“I just remembered that I brought over some alcohol,” Beverly states getting up from her spot on the concrete floor and moving over to the fridge where she had piled in bottles upon bottles on beer, vodka, schnapps and lemonade (for mixing purposes). 

She grabs as many beers as she could carry and passes them round to the boys. “I’ll get the vodka out later.” She says, before she passes a bottle to Eddie, she asks, “do you want me to grab the schnapps, Eddie?” 

“No no, it’s fine,” Eddie says, nobody knows of his and Richie’s late-night drinking sessions one Saturday of every month. He knows that that is going to be one of many things he’s going to miss about Richie.

While Eddie is pining over Richie, Richie is pining over Stanley. Though the feeling is mutual between the two; unknown to both Richie and Stan. With Stan sitting on his right and Eddie on his left, he is torn with who to tease first. If he starts with Stan, everyone will know that something is up, especially Stan.

“What’s shaka lackin’ Eddie Spaghetti?” Richie asks tussling Eddie’s perfectly styled hair.

“Cut it out, Richie! Has the alcohol already affected your brain?” Eddie shrieks, knocking Richie’s hand away. Richie recoils and leans into Stan, face buried in his chest.

“Eddie’s mad at me,” Richie fake whimpers into Stan’s chest.

“Get off me, Richie!” Stan says pushing Richie off him but doesn’t shy away from the blush that’s starting to grow on his face.

“Bev -” Richie begins only to be cut off by a simultaneous…

“BEEP BEEP RICHIE!” 

Richie sculls the whole bottle of beer in absolute sorrow and gets up to grab another. 

****

A couple of hours later, Bev pulls out the vodka and the peach schnapps (for Eddie). Now is the perfect time for drinking games and so Bev goes with ‘never have I ever’ since they had played truth or dare at their last sleepover a couple of weeks ago. Richie sneaks a glance at Stan who was leaning toward Richie, his left hand on the floor for balance. It doesn’t take much for Richie to seize the opportunity and leans towards Stan himself, their pinkies’ almost touching. 

“Never have I ever liked someone in this room?” Bev says and every single loser takes the shot. “No way!” Ben’s the only straight Loser and with Bev being the only girl… she squeals and immediately kisses poor, Ben who topples over from the force. Richie and Stan snicker.

“Okay Uris, Tozier, what’s funny?” The redheaded girl asks.

“Nothing,” the two boys respond.

“Why don’t the 5 of you share who you like,” Bev suggests, Richie and Eddie look at Bill, Mike looks at Stan. All of them shake their heads in horror. “Oh come on! It’ll add to the drama.”

Richie is sure he’s about to have a heart attack, he can’t tell Stan. “Rich, he likes you back. It’s obvious.” Ben says. “Don’t be a chicken.”

Stan is doing everything in his power to not tense or show any sort of reaction to Ben’s comment. Eddie too, Richie would see him tense or blush. Neither boy can react.

“Nope, not falling into peer pressure. Guess the lucky guy will never know,” Richie says. But with that being said, he still links his pinky to Stan’s. The movement is hidden from Bev and Ben, as well as Eddie but in full vision to Bill and Mike. The two boys look towards Stan and Richie’s joint hands and smirk knowingly to each other.

“Never have I ever been caught shoplifting?” Stan asks and if, on cue, Bev and Richie take a shot each.

“Oof, you burn me, Staniel,” Richie says removing his hand away from Stan’s and brings to his chest for dramatic effect.

“Didn’t know we were allowed to single people out,” Bill says. “In that case, never have I ever had a thing for the Trashmouth.” In both of Richie’s peripheral visions, he can see Eddie and Stan hesitantly take a shot. 

*

Not knowing what to do, Richie breaks into a run, running as far as his legs can carry him which is barely to his beaten-up truck, up at the house. He’s more unfit than he originally thought. 

He had pined for Eddie through middle school and up until Sophmore year when Eddie had introduced the Losers Club to his boyfriend. Richie was so heartbroken that he barely left the house, only ever leaving if he had school. After 3 months of getting over Eddie, he figured that Stan was pretty cute and had started to like him instead, plus they are both Jewish so that’s a plus.

“Richard!?” Stan and Eddie call from the bottom of the hill. The two struggle up the steep slope giving Richie ample time to make a getaway in the beaten up ute but he’s been drinking so driving is out of the question.

“What gives?” Eddie demands. Richie could feel an emotional trainwreck of a monologue forming in his head. Soon it comes running out of his mouth like an avalanche.

“Eds, I uh - I ran because I didn’t want to face you. I can’t face you knowing that you like me when I already like someone else. I was crushed when you had that boyfriend, I had my shot and I blew it but I had to get over you.” Richie takes a pause. “I like Stan now but you will always be my number 1 drinking buddy. This wasn’t how I planned this.

“But I uh, I was bamboozled by Bill. I’m sorry Stan, this wasn’t how it was gonna go and you were never meant to find out Eddie. I never wanted to break your heart, I wouldn’t have been able to live myself if I ruined our friendship, especially now when we all leave in a few days.” 

Richie starts to sob, he was hoping neither of them found out but his 2.5 years of pining for Stan? It was bound to come out at some point. But Eddie? Eddie was never supposed to know and now he does and Eddie sniffles which makes Richie breakdown further, bawling. Tears steamrolling down his pale face.

Stan doesn’t know what to do, at the same time he’s ecstatic that Richie chose him not Eddie but Eddie is still his best friend. He pulls the two crying boys into a hug, letting them cry on his shoulders.

“Richie, you could never ruin this friendship. I love you too much for that, you can’t get rid of me that easily.” Eddie laughs wiping the tears from his eyes. “You’re my best friend, almost like a brother. You were my first ever friend, Rich, don’t ever forget that.”

“ ‘course not spaghetti.” Richie brings Eddie in for one last hug.

“Seeing you cry makes me emotional, dipshit, don’t do that to me again, understand?”

“Ay, ay captain!” 

Stan can only laugh.

“And you,” Eddie turns to the birdwatcher, “you hurt my brother, you’ll be answering to me.”

The three of them start laughing before Eddie leaves to give the two some privacy. Even though it kills him, he happy that Richie is happy and now it’s his turn to move on.

*

“You okay?” Stan asks as he watches Eddie walk back into the barn.

“Yes and no. I hurt my best friend but I got the guy of my dreams,” Richie replies staring down at his shoes.

“Look if you don’t want to start a relationship yet, I comple-”

“Stop talking,” Richie interrupts and kisses Stan. Stan can taste the salty flavour on Richie’s lips from the tears that had been shed only moments ago. No matter how bad he felt about Eddie, Stan thoroughly enjoyed his new favourite drug, other than caffeine and alcohol, Richie. Richie’s lips have become Stan’s new drug and he is high on it. The couple of seconds that the kiss lasts is enough to have Stan hooked.

He feels Richie pull back and already he’s chasing and pulls Richie back in and pushes him against the tray of the truck. Richie pulls back and gets into the tray of the truck, Stan follows him and he’s immediately back on Richie’s lips. There’s a fire in the pit of his stomach and he’s hungry for more but Richie having a bit more control stops him. 

“Stan,” Richie breathed, trying his very best to catch his breath. “I want to start a relationship with you.”

“What about Eddie?” Stan asks.

“Stan, I’ll talk to him tomorrow, let’s just lay here and go to sleep under the stars.”

Richie opens the plastic box, that he had drilled into the tray, and pulls out a couple of cushions and blankets. 

[msjr0119]

Hold On

Part 17D- Surprises and Verdicts

Nobody got injured at the Homecoming ball, they all get separated into different safe houses- for safety.

Riley and Drake had confirmed that they had feelings for each other, however Drake believed Riley should be with Liam. Heartbroken, she moves back to New York. Only keeping in touch with Hana, Maxwell and Olivia.

Riley meets lawyer, Nate Cooper and begins a relationship with him. In Cordonia, Drake begins to court Kiara.

Nine months after Riley had left Cordonia- there is a reunion, but not the reunion the friends had hoped for.

*Characters belong to Pixelberry*

If you are under 18 please do not read this series. If you do, you are consenting that you are over the age.

Series warnings: Suicide, domestic abuse, swearing, stabbing, smut 🍋. If any of these triggers affect you do not read!

Tags- @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @drakesensworld @butindeed @bbrandy2002 @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @choices97 @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world

******

Leo stuck to his word and ran Riley a bath when they had returned to the apartment. It seemed to calm her down. Her hand was slightly swollen, but she didn’t care- it was worth it. The friends all ordered pizza and watched a Rom-com before heading to bed.

Riley couldn’t sleep, she just kept seeing Madeleine’s smirk in her mind. She had wondered how long the case would be adjourned for. It was now 5am. Who needs sleep anyway- she thought.

She tiptoed into the kitchen, attempting to not wake the others up- caffeine was required if she was to survive the day. She saw Leo and Beth snuggled up on the sofa, holding each other. A pang of jealousy hit her- she missed Liam. How she went all these months without his soft touch, she didn’t know. He was now her drug- she wanted more every time she saw him, she felt intoxicated when around him. As she had finished making her coffee, her phone rang. She answered it quickly, whispering as she noticed her two friends stir.

“Li. Do you know what time it is?”

“Why are you whispering? And it’s 5.10am Ri. I am capable of telling the time.”

“Okay Mr intelligent. I was whispering because Leo and Beth are asleep on the sofa. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’ve missed you. Are you okay?”

“I’d be better if I was with you... Li hold on, someone’s at the door....”

Riley tiptoed back into the living space. She didn’t know why she bothered as the knock had woken her friends up. She opened the door, immediately seeing his baby blues.

“I suppose I better hang up then...”

Riley pulled Liam in for a kiss, she was shocked but so happy to see him.

“Pack your bag Ri. You’re staying with me, no questions required. Let these lot catch up on sleep.”

******

Glen the King’s Guard junior, drove Liam and Riley to the penthouse that Liam had rented, Olivia was staying in a 5* hotel nearby- she didn’t want to play gooseberry.

“I can’t believe that you are here!”

“I couldn’t stay away any longer. You needed me no matter how much you denied it. I wanted to be here for you. And besides, I wouldn’t let you all face any more court alone after what she did.”

“You... you know?”

“I don’t know the full details- Leo wouldn’t tell me. But I know she was here, providing a fake alibi and by the look of your hand you’d have gotten into trouble if Leo and Bastien didn’t stop you.”

“Li, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Ri, don’t apologise. Someone was going to do it someday. I’m extremely tired. Are you going to join me? We can have a lie in. Then I’ll take you out for breakfast, my treat.”

“What would happen if a lady refused the King?” Riley asked seductively, biting her lip.

Liam stepped closer to her and began to kiss Riley on the neck- he knew it was her ‘turn on spot’.

“I believe that the lady will get punished.”

Riley dragged the King over to the bed, before pushing him on it and straddling him. The kisses deepened as they became more passionate. They both stripped each other down to their underwear- they were both eager to touch and feel each other.

“Lay on your back, Lady Riley. You must obey your King’s order.”

*****

Two days after Liam and Olivia had arrived in New York, Leo and Riley were called back into court. In those two days all the friends did some sightseeing, ate out, generally had fun.

Liam looked at the Statue of Liberty. This place had so many memories- the first night he met Riley, the time he proposed to her. The had come full circle again and was back here.

“Li?”

Liam pulled Riley towards him, wrapping his arms around her protectively- whilst gazing on the Statue.

“I can’t believe how beautiful she still is. Not as beautiful as you though.”

“Heh. I don’t mind being in competition with a Statue. Can she fuck you like I can your Majesty? Didn’t think so.”

Riley said seductively. She needed to have a joke- she knew he would be feeling morbid being here. This is where she rejected his proposal. Guilt was still bubbling inside of her even after all this time.

“Riley don’t. You are making me want you.”

“You’ll have to wait until we get back my King.”

“Don’t tease me. I love you.”

“I love you too Li.”

The two of them held hands as they rejoined their friends.

“We are going to sit in the gallery. I’m not going to kiss you because I don’t want to make the situation any worse. But I love you Riley Brooks, always have and always will. Don’t you forget that. Good luck to you both. We will celebrate afterwards.”

Riley and Leo sat down in their seats, both panicking that the two parasites had won. Liam, Liv and the rest of the friends smiled at the two victims.

“I apologise for adjournment regarding the verdict. The jury wanted to scrutinise the new evidence that came alight from Miss Chambers. We will go through each incident that the defendant is being trialed for and the head of the jury will answer the verdict.”

Liam glanced over at Nate, Olivia was correct and he was good looking- but he was too confident-providing a look as if had won already. Liam really wanted to do to Nate what Riley had done to Madeleine. Olivia noticed him staring at Nate and held his hand for reassurance.

“They’ve got this Li.”

“I hope so Liv. I really hope so.”

****

“Do you find the defendant guilty or not guilty with the incident involving the following photos of Miss Brooks. The incidents included her passing about and being hospitalised and also the incident where Mr Cooper was accused of breaking her arm.”

Liam and Olivia gasped, it was the first time they had seen the pictures. Riley hung her head down low, Leo put his arm around her.

“GUILTY.” The judge thanked the jury before starting the next question.

“Do you find the defendant guilty or not guilty with the incident that involved Miss Brooks miscarrying her unborn baby?”

“GUILTY.”

“And finally, do find the defendant guilty or not guilty with the incident involving Mr Rhys being attacked in the Club?”

“GUILTY.”

Riley and Leo jumped out of their seats, both crying and hugging each other tightly. Riley looked to see Olivia hugging Liam. He was crying too. Olivia winked at her friend and smiled- this was unusual for the Duchess to show such an expression.

“NO WAIT! He’s not guilty, I gave you video evidence. It clearly wasn’t Nate in the video.”

“Pipe down Maddy, your plan has backfired.” - Leo snapped back at his ex fiancée.

“No wait, Leo isn’t the faithful boyfriend he keeps painting himself as. He swanned off around Europe sleeping with anything that had a pulse. And Riley, she can’t keep her knickers on either. One minute she’s sleeping with the King then she’s shacked up with his best friend! They aren’t as perfect as you all think they are... GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME!”

The judge had requested that Madeleine was removed from the room, he knew that she was a liar.

“Miss Brooks and Prince Leo, the video ‘evidence’ she had on her phone, had a time and date on it from when it was recorded. She set it up. We will let her off with a warning as she is not from this country. But any other hassle, the American law will deal with her.”

Leo hugged Riley tighter. They had done it, even with the obstruction in the way.

“Mr Cooper you have been found guilty on all accounts. The minimum sentence I can provide for you is 10 years. If you cause any hassle during your time in prison this will increase. You may take him down.”

Leo and Riley hugged their attorney, thanking her for all her work. They had won, and were ready to celebrate with their friends. Liam ran to Riley picked her up and spun her around. He couldn’t stop kissing her, he knew how hard it was for both her and Leo but he was incredibly proud of how strong the two of them had been.

“Ri, I love you. This is where our future begins. Leave the past behind us and start a fresh....”

[lovemesomesurveys]

● Name something you lost or gave away that can never be replaced. A lot of time wasted.  “I wasted my time...”   ● What 5 websites do you visit often, and why? Tumblr, YouTube, Twitter, Facebook, and Pinterest.  ● Name a totally useless possession and how you came to acquire it. Some would consider knickknacks and collectibles and stuff useless, and I mean yeah they just sit on a shelf, but I like stuff like that.  ● What music album would be used for a movie about your life? I don’t know. ● List your bad habits and/or addictions and what you have tried to rid yourself of them. I got a lot of bad habits. As for addictions, caffeine and my pain medicine. I don’t abuse it, I take it as prescribed, but after so long your body develops a dependency. I remember several years ago I tried to cut out caffeine. It lasted a couple days, I think. haha. The headaches are no joke.

● If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be, and what would you do if later on you changed your mind? There’s a long list of things I’d want to change, but I mean if I could have good health (mentally and physically) that would make a big difference. I think some other changes would follow. I can’t imagine I’d ever change my mind about that. ● What are your religious beliefs? Have they changed, or have they always stayed the same? I’m a Christian now. Up until 4 years ago I was atheist and then agnostic.  ● When was your last food craving, and what did you crave? I’ve been wanting Doritos tacos from Taco Bell lately. ● Who was your first crush and what made them special? This kid named Philip when I was in 3rd grade. He was a grade or two above me. He and I were turning the jump rope for people during this event my elementary school had every year called, Jump Rope for Heart. It was to get people active and raise awareness. Anyway, he was across from me holding the other end of the rope and I just thought he was cute haha.  ● Name your most cherished childhood memory. I have a lot of those. I loved my childhood. It wasn’t without struggle or obstacles, but for some reason those things aren’t what stand out the most. I was a strong, resilient kid. Kid me would be so ashamed of how weak I am now. ● Turn to an entry in your journal or diary from a year or more ago. What has changed and what has stayed the same since then? I don’t feel like looking back on old surveys right now. ● What is one thing nobody knows about you because nobody ever cared to ask? Hmm. ● Robert Frost write a poem titled The Road Not Taken. Name a road you’ve always wanted to travel. Where do you hope it takes you, and what might you see on the way? Wait, literally or metaphorically? I mean, metaphorically I’d like to take the road that takes me to working on myself and leading to some happiness and success. That’d be nice.  ● Name one thing you always wanted to do, but haven’t. What has prevented you from doing it? Uhh there’s a lot of things. I feel like I’ve wasted so much time in my life each passing year. I’m just wasting away. I want to just...live. Travel more. Do something with my life. My physical health has been a contributing factor, but ultimately it’s me. It’s my mental health. That affects me more than anything else. ● Write about your first kiss. Was it everything you wished or hoped it would be? It happened behind the drama department at my high school. It unexpected and awkward, but it was my first kiss so it was all I knew. I was so giddy about having had my first kiss it didn’t matter haha. ● What was the worst mistake or decision you have ever made in life? What could you have done differently? Oh jeez. I have a lot of regrets. One that weighs heavily on me in recent years relates to my health. I’m very stubborn. I should have taken better care of myself. I should have neglected certain things. Some things don’t just go away, they get worse. And here I am, still not taking care of myself like I should be. Each passing year... ● What song was stuck in your head recently, and what were you doing at the time that made you think of it? I Love Me by Demi Lovato. I just really like the song.

● Write about something you now know that you wish you knew earlier in life. How could this knowledge have helped you? Just going back to the big thing that’s been weighing heavily on my mind these past few years that I talked about up there. ● Write about your greatest fear. Death, losing loved ones, never getting better/getting worse, and never doing anything with my life. ● Name one thing you feel brings out the good in people. Hmm. ● Describe a time in your life when everything turned out fine, despite the odds. I mean, there have been some times where things turned out to be not as bad as I thought they would be.  ● If you invented a device that could fix one problem you are facing right now, would you use it? What problem would you like to solve? I’ve talked about it enough.  ● Write about the last time you spoke to your best friend. What did you talk about? Last night when my mom got home from work. She was just telling me about stuff that happened at work and the latest Coronavirus news. It’s a wild time right now. All the cancellations of events, school campuses closing, and empty shelfs because people are stockpiling on hand sanitizer, face masks, and toilet paper. Italy is quarantined. I’ve never witnessed anything like this. ● Describe a time you felt alone. I feel that way a lot. I don’t spend a lot of time physically alone, but I still feel alone a lot. ● Name something you found; what was it and where did you find it? Uhh earlier I found a new ASMR channel on YouTube to watch haha. ● What’s on your calendar for tomorrow? I have a doctor appointment.  ● What is the most annoying sound you have ever heard? Eating sounds make my skin crawl.  ● Describe your first job. I’ve never had one.  ● What is the one thing you cannot live without? Besides oxygen, food, and water; my family. And coffee. That doesn’t get lumped into food or water, coffee gets its own honorable mention.  ● Quote the nicest thing anyone has ever said about you. Lane said I was strong, beautiful, brave, and rocked red hair like nobody’s business. :D ● Are you afraid of the dark? Why or why not? I can’t sleep if it’s completely dark or quiet, which is why I sleep with the TV on. I’d be scared if the electricity went out and it was dark if I was home alone. I wouldn’t go anywhere alone at night. Even with with someone I’m heightened alert. ● Describe the longest amount of time you have ever been away from home. A week. ● Write about a recent adventure or travels. I went to Disneyland for a few days last month. It was awesome. ● Who did you idolize growing up? My mom and grandma. And some celebrities at the time that were around my age like Hilary Duff. ● Name a celebrity or famous person you wish would take you out on a date. Alexander Skarsgard. ● Describe your daily routine when you get out of bed in the morning. Take my medicine, use the restroom, have coffee.  ● Name one thing you have always been good at doing. Jumping to the worst case scenarios. ● What is your favorite season, and why? Fall and winter. I love the weather, the clothes, the scents, the holidays, and just the coziness of it all. ● What was the title of the last book you read? I’m currently reading, “The Girl That Vanished” by A.J. Rivers. It’s the sequel to, “The Girl in Cabin 13.” ● List your biggest regrets. I talked about one of them already. That’s enough for today. ● Have you ever seen a ghost? No. ● Describe your note-taking style and habits. Bullet points, underlining, asterisks, and highlighting.  ● Do you believe that we are all here for a reason? What might the reason be? Yes. You have to figure that out for yourself, we all have a different purpose. I’m still trying to figure mine out. ● What comes to mind when someone uses the phrase prolonging the magic? I’ve never heard that phrase. ● Have you ever done something just to feel the danger, or to feel alive? Drinking, smoking weed, and taking a ride in a truck at night on a backroad at night near a levee. That was scary, but definitely an adrenaline rush.  ● What is your favorite cliché? Actions speak louder than words. ● What are all your thoughts on god? I believe in God.  ● How do rainy days make you feel? I love rainy days. I do the same things I do any other day, but it’s just cozy. The sound is relaxing. ● What is the most amount of money you have had at one time? A couple grand. ● Write a celebrity crush list. Alexander Skarsgard. ● What is the most amazing thing you have ever seen, heard, or experienced? I couldn’t pick just one thing. ● What effect does music have on you? It can perk me up, it can give me a little energy if I need to clean, it can make me sad, it can make me zone out, it can make me relax.  ● What did you learn today? What did you learn yesterday? Uhhh. ● What 5 traits do people first notice when they meet you for the first time? I’m sure the very first thing they notice is I’m in a wheelchair. Then probably how thin I am. Then perhaps my hair and my black rimmed glasses. Maybe my freckles. ● Have you ever carved your name or initials into a tree or stone? No. ● Does Never Never Land really exist? No, sadly.  “Cause Neverland is home, to lost boys like me...” ● Where is a great place to get breakfast? This local place that’s known more for their burgers, fries, and shakes, but actually have bomb breakfast, too. I love their country gravy. ● List 3 things that went right (or wrong) today. It’s only 2 in the morning, but so far I had ramen, I’m finishing up my Starbucks Doubleshot energy drink, and I’m watching/listening to an ASMR video. Not a bad start, but we’ll see how the rest of the day goes... I have a doctor appointment later that I’m not looking forward to. Afterwards my mom and I are going grocery shopping and I’ll probably pick up Wingstop on the way home. It’s been hot lately and I’ve had a nagging headache the past couple days, so I hope that isn’t the case today. ● What is the best method of travel, and in what ways have you traveled? Car and plane.  ● If you could give the world just one thing, what would it be? Peace. ● What were your best and worst subjects in school or college? English throughout school, with the addition of psychology in college. My worst was always math. I struggled with science, too. Philosophy was really fucking hard. ● Describe the most outrageous thing anyone has dared you to do. I haven't really been dared to do anything too outrageous.  ● Ice cream: chocolate, vanilla, or strawberry? Strawberry, but vanilla is good as well.  ● What historical events happened the year you were born? Ted Bundy was electrocuted.  ● Pick up a random object that has special meaning to you and describe it in as much detail as possible. I’m on my bed and there’s 2 giraffe stuffed animals, one is a big squishy one. I love all my giraffe stuffed animals, which there are a LOT of. ● Write about a recent visit to a museum or art gallery. I visited a Walt Disney museum a couple years ago. It was really cool. ● What food items do you consider staples in a well-balanced diet? I’m the wrong person to ask about well balanced diets. Well balanced for me is Wingstop, ramen, this pizza from my favorite local pizza place, scrambled eggs, and coffee. haha. ● Describe your feelings in regards to an issue in todays society, and what would be done to fix it. I talked about the coronavirus, which is a big issue and hot topic currently, and my feelings to it already. ● If you had only one wish, what would you wish for? Cures for all diseases. ● If you could tell the world just one thing, what would you say? Wash your hands!  ● Share a dirty little secret about yourself (or someone else). Nah. ● Have you ever gone skinny dipping? Noooo. ● Name something you would like to devote more time to seeing or doing. I need to devote time to taking care of myself and taking some necessary steps. ● What is the name of your favorite book, magazine, or publication? I have too many favorite books. ● Describe your first car. I’ve never had my own car. I don’t drive. ● Thunderstorms… Inspiring or scary? I love them.

[rosalind-of-arden]

Sword and Pen Reread, chapter 5

Time to cry over Morgan.

Here’s our first hint that Morgan isn’t going to survive. The journal entry is “Archived to the Codex under interdict until her death.” I don’t think we’ve had ephemera from any of the main characters labeled that way before.

So Morgan’s journal was published after her death. She gets that form of immortality along with the ring. But, of course, this is a lot of very personal, emotional stuff to make public while she still exists in a way that allows her to be aware of it. Also, if Jess reads it, so many feels for him.

Morgan’s emotions in this journal are just so real for someone her age. She’s 18, she’s been through hell, and she doesn’t even know what to make of it all. It’s heartbreaking that she wants comfort so badly and questions herself for wanting it.

“What happened in the Colosseum feels like an ending.” This line felt jarring the first time I read it, since in her last POV chapter in Smoke and Iron, Morgan seemed to decide that she definitely loved Jess. But she felt that when she thought they were about to die, and that was before Brendan’s death. Morgan, extremely vulnerable after just escaping the Iron Tower and only just reunited with Jess, just saw Jess fall apart over his brother, too consumed by grief to think about her. She just saw that as intense as their feelings for each other have been, Jess has other relationships that are more established that have a huge impact on his life. That’s not either of their fault, but it’s got to hurt.

Also, consider the difference in Jess’s response to Brendan’s death and Morgan’s response to her father’s death. Not exactly the same situation, but still, close if complicated family relationship. Jess withdraws and can’t even take care of himself right after Brendan dies. Morgan keeps going after her father dies: trying to escape, checking on her friends... if she had any period of shock or withdrawal, it’s off page where we don’t see it. She may be hurt by Jess’s grief because it’s so different from her own that she can’t understand it.

Morgan recognizes that the things that have happened have changed her and Jess both. They really haven’t had the time to establish a relationship strong enough to last through those changes. Wolfe and Santi obviously have. Khalila and Dario had six months of peace together. Jess and Morgan had a lot of mutual pining and very little actual time. No wonder Morgan’s questioning things.

Morgan is a tea person. She drinks it unsweetened, apparently, since it’s bitter. Cooling, too. Morgan is the type to leave the tea in the cup and forget about it.

Morgan and Thomas both know ancient Greek.

In some ways, putting Morgan and Thomas on the same project is as bad as having Jess and Wolfe work together. Neither of them believes in getting adequate sleep when there’s work to do.

Ancient harbor defense mechanism was an Artifex-Obscurist collaboration designed by Heron.

Obscurists can bond people to automata. This seems like the sort of thing that has a lot of potential both for interesting problem solving and for absolute horror.

Medica-brewed energy potions are a thing. And Morgan’s preferred caffeine source might be tea, but she’ll grab an energy drink before she’ll consider sleeping.

Morgan and Thomas, taking a break from work to debate whether and how people can change.

“This is why I prefer my machines. Far easier to fix a broken automaton than a broken person.” My fucking heart, Thomas.

“His smile felt as warm as summer sun, and for a moment she forgot they weren’t just two students, debating.” My fucking heart, Morgan.

Seriously. Thomas: “I’m broken and can’t fix myself” *smiles* Morgan: “omg is this what it’s like to be normal students?” Children, neither of you is ok.

What does it take to make Morgan sleep? Knowing she’ll have to use lots of Obscurist power for a job.

Thomas has been assigned an office but no sleeping quarters. Odds that without outside intervention, he just ends up sleeping in his office?

Changes in Morgan’s power: what she grew up with was “a steady, slow trickle from the world around her” enough for elemental manipulation and rewriting scripts. Now it’s sizzling, “dark and glorious,” and even after using a lot at the Colosseum, she still feels like she’s “bursting with it.”

More hints at hidden Obscurist communities, maybe in/around Oxford? “She’d spent most of her life in hiding.” Assuming her father was in on it - an Obscurist himself (weak power, probably?), or a parent who would rather live in hiding than give his child up? And there’s how he was recruited to the Burners. A community of hidden Obscurists is going to be both an appealing and an easy target for them, and a siege could be the thing that pushes them into joining the Burners instead of hiding. Scholar Tyler could have been part of it too, a Scholar who sympathized with the hidden Obscurists enough to risk trying to help them.

Eskander, hiding magic rings is not an appropriate way to give them to people. Are you trying to be fucking Gandalf or something?

 There is nothing ominous at all about an ancient ring stamped with the seal of the Great Library that radiates power.

Morgan has so completely adopted Wolfe as her father that she doesn’t hesitate to think of Eskander as a grandfather.

Eskander has spent the past 40 years locked in his room. Eskander is wearing “boots that had seen years of use.” Old pre-Iron Tower boots of his? Or has Eskander spent the past 40 years pacing around his room with boots on? Raided the Iron Tower’s clothing storage and grabbed himself a pair of old boots instead of new ones?

“A lean, strong elder with long, curling gray hair.” Caine throws a bone to Eskander smut writers with this bit of description, I think. Morgan: sees Eskander, notices how good he looks, immediately thinks of adopted family relationships.

So quintessence is the power that’s in everything in this world. Apeiron encompasses other realities as well.

“This particular ring was created by the Obscurist Magnus Gargi Vachaknavi over five thousand years ago.” As Maz has so brilliantly pointed out, there is no fucking way that this entire statement is true.  Ephemera later in the book says Gargi was Archivist. So... could be Gargi was Obscurist Magnus and/or Archivist, but not actually 5,000 years ago. Great Library seal on the ring points toward this interpretation: that suggests it was made after the Library was founded. Or we go with the theory we’ve discussed on Discord. The Library claims to date back 5,000 years, treating ancient institutions in Egypt, Greece, etc as part of itself, retroactively applying titles like Archivist or Obscurist to people who wouldn’t have called himself that. Gargi was neither an Obscurist Magnus nor an Archivist, but those titles were retroactively assigned to her. The symbol was added to the ring later.

Or, for something a little more horrifying. Gargi made the ring 5,000 years ago. She has been using it to either share or steal bodies, and has thus been able to be an Obscurist Magnus and an Archivist, just not in her original body. She put the Library symbol on the ring whenever she joined up with the Library.

Eskander: You made me come out of hiding, now I’m training you to replace me. Suck it up, kid, this is nobody’s fault but your own. I mean, it’s a douche move to stick her with the job like that... but I kinda sympathize.

Morgan: My power is corrupted again, so maybe we should think about safety here? Eskander: No safety. Put the ring on. For science!

I think Eskander really is trying to help here. He knows Morgan isn’t using her power safely. He knows he can’t keep fixing her when she corrupts herself. The ring is the only thing that might work. But he is truly atrocious at communicating that, and he doesn’t seem to understand that bullying her into it isn’t right. 40 years of isolation plus most of his life in the Iron Tower - that’s not going to give him a healthy understanding of communication or consent.

Morgan’s power is repaired again when she puts on the ring. And upgraded.

The ring was put away because it disagreed with what the Library was doing. So Eskander finds this ring that’s probably been locked up somewhere, maybe labeled as dangerous... and unless it comes with an instruction manual, presumably, he puts the damn thing on. How else would he learn what it is? And Gargi tells him to fuck off and find someone better to wear her? Or maybe every Obscurist Magnus inherits it, tries it on, gets rejected, stashes it until the next Obscurist Magnus comes along? But maybe Keria slipped it to Eskander instead, keeping Gregory from getting it. Maybe Eskander even wore it a bit, until Gargi got tired of him doing nothing and told him to fuck off. Maybe the ring is how Keria and Eskander even figured out how to un-corrupt power.

Ring stays on the wearer until it decides it’s ready to come off. So, yeah, really not something you should have coerced Morgan into, Eskander.

Ring is messing with Morgan’s head already. Giving her dreams telling her she can stop the Archivist but it would kill her too, planting thoughts in her head, affecting feelings.

“Annis was very fond of Eskander.” For all the Annis/Eskander shippers.

“Scholar Wolfe, looking tired and drawn.” More to add to the Wolfe Is Not Ok pile.

Wolfe has two dying kids and available medical care isn’t helping. Who does he go to? The kid who he watches heal Santi, of course. He knows what Morgan is capable of.

Obscurist vision takes power to use. Morgan sees Glain’s body “mapped in flows of reds, blues, golds... and a steady expanding darkness.” Touching Glain lets Morgan feel what Glain is feeling and see the inside of her body.

The ring helps Morgan drain small amounts of power from everyone around her. It sends increasingly strong warnings as she uses too much power. Progresses to sharp stabs of pain, then catching fire.

Dad Wolfe is there to catch Morgan when she falls. Energy Vampire Morgan finds him tasty. Did this happen in/after Philadelphia too?

Morgan has seen Wolfe freaked out before. So it’s really saying something that here, he’s “terrified in a way she couldn’t remember ever seeing him.” I would really, really like to know how this compares to the Mesmer.

This tense little moment with Wolfe and Morgan before she leaves. She’s so scared of hurting him. He knows he just hurt her by asking her to save Glain. They both know how dangerous her corruption is. From Wolfe’s perspective, this is probably a lot like how he felt after Jess breathed the poison. He’s watching his kids kill themselves to accomplish their goals, and he can’t stop asking them to take the risks because there’s no other way to get things done. It’s Philadelphia all over again.

With her eyes closed, Morgan can perceive the garden, including fish in the pond. She can sense that Jess is dying.

The ring differentiates between consequences of choices and injuries inflicted by others. Choice and consent matter to Gargi, but she doesn’t consider the circumstances in which choices were made. Neither Morgan nor Jess had any good options when they made the choices that are killing them. Gargi doesn’t care about that.

Breakup time. Poor babies, they’re both so badly hurt, they don’t have anything left for each other, and they’re blaming themselves for that.

[calpalirwin]

You’ll Always Have Me

Summary: Alyssa and Ashton have been best friends ever since Alyssa moved in across the street the summer before second grade. Together, they were tackling the stereotype that boys and girls can’t just be friends. That is, until they almost kissed right before their junior year of high school. Can their friendship survive the jealousy that stems from their newfound feelings? And what happens when they realize these “newfound feelings” really aren’t all that new?

And away, and away we go!

Chapter 8

~Alyssa~

I hung up after my call with Ash and collapsed on my bed. I couldn’t believe I had just told him that I had thought about kissing him and that it didn’t matter. Of course it fucking mattered! I wanted to kiss my best friend and he had wanted to kiss me too, but at the last second, I chickened out. So, thinking I had rejected him, he went and got himself a fucking girlfriend. And to deal with that rejection, I had said yes to a date with a guy who I wasn’t even sure I liked. All because I couldn’t just let him kiss me and trust in what would happen afterwards. I sighed and chucked my pillow across my room. It landed with a soft thud. I needed loud.

I pushed myself off my bed and headed downstairs. “Hey, where are you headed?” my mom asked, from the couch in the living room.

“Garage,” I said, grabbing a water from the fridge before pulling the garage door open.

“Is your homework done, Lys?”

I groaned. “I just need a break, okay?”

I could feel her back off her witch hunt for a perfect report card. “Okay, do you thing...”

The song I had stuck in my head all day had an upbeat punk feel to it. But, I didn’t want to learn it now. I scrolled through my music for a song with a more heartbreaking message. I hit play and played along, occasionally singing a lyric or two. The tears came, as I knew they would, which only made me angry, which is what I wanted. The angrier I got, the better I felt. Then, to get a song stuck in my head that made me feel good rather than angry or depressed, I switched to the song I had wanted to work on in the first place. I ran through it a few times, trying to work out the kinks, before exhaustion set in.

I set my guitar aside and wiped the sweat from my forehead. I downed my water and fought to catch my breath. Finally, in a better head space, I went back inside.

“Better, Lys?” my mom asked.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Too loud?”

“Surprisingly, that wasn’t my concern when you asked for our garage to be turned into a rock concert when you started high school.”

I chuckled, “Yeah, what was your concern?”

“That you’d get bored and give up. But, then I remembered who you are.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“You don’t give up. It’s not who you are. You’ve always chased after what you want. Don’t lose that.”

“Is there a deeper meaning to this conversation that I’m not seeing?” I knew she was trying to probe more into my “mysterious teenage life” while trying to respect my privacy. Gently coaxing me into spilling all my secrets so we could have a mother-daughter bonding session. It was both gross and desperately needed. I just needed to be heard, get all my thoughts said out loud.

“Lys, I’m not blind. I know that something’s been bothering you. And I’m here for you whenever you’re ready to talk about it.”

“Oh, its nothing, Mom. I’m just in love with Ash. And he tried to kiss me this summer, but I chickened out. Then he got a girlfriend. But, that’s okay because now I have a date with someone. But, it’s not okay because Ash is jealous as hell.” The words starting falling and I couldn’t make them stop even if I wanted them to. “And I’m pissed as hell because why is he jealous? He got a girlfriend! All I have is a stupid little date. He’s had a girlfriend for a month, but he’s jealous?! It just… I want my friend back, but I want more than that, too. And I don’t know how to have a relationship with Ash that’s more than what we have now without fucking everything up. I don’t want to lose him, and I feel like that’s gonna happen either way now and it just sucks.”

“Why do you think you’re going to lose him?”

“Because. You can’t be best friends with a girl and date other girls. I already see him less since he’s been dating Kayla. And if I date him myself? Well, it changes our whole dynamic. And if we break up? Well, that’s even worse. It’s a lose-lose-lose, Mom.”

“Have some faith, Lys. Your relationship with Ashton will always be your relationship with Ashton. Nobody can take that from you. It only changes if you let it change.”

“Well, it doesn’t make me less angry with him.”

“Then be angry with him. But don’t let it get it in the way.”

“But, I don’t want to be angry with him. I just want him to stop being jealous.”

“Isn’t it a tad hypocritical to want him to stop being jealous when you’re jealous yourself?”

“At least I didn’t start dating anyone…” I said, bitterly.

“He felt rejected, Lys. What did you expect the boy to do?”

“I dunno, but it sure as hell wasn’t this.”

“I know. Just remember two things: 1.) giving up is not in your nature and 2.) you guys are stronger than this. You’ll get past this, I promise, and Ashton will still be your best friend when you do.”

I sighed and pushed my hands through my hair. “He’s just so frustrating!”

She nodded. Then, “So, tell me more about this date of yours.”

“Oh, it’s with this guy in my Anatomy class. We’ll probably just go to the movies or something.”

“And who is this mysterious date from Anatomy?”

“Calum Hood. He’s okay.”

“Just okay?”

“Well…” I bit my lip. Being one of the more popular guys in our grade, the fact that he was interested in me would make us the talk of the school. “He’s a little more than okay. But…”

“He’s not Ashton.”

“Yeah…”

“But, maybe that’ll turn out to be a good thing. You’re used to Ashton. Being around someone different might be better than you think.”

I shrugged.

“Lys, this doesn’t have to work out. It’s more than fine if it doesn’t. But, just be open to the experience. After all, we…”

“We always regret the things we didn’t do,” I interrupted. “I know. And I’m trying, aren’t I? I mean, I said yes.”

I reminded myself that I was going to try- to try and ignore the feeling I got in my stomach when I saw Kayla bat her eyes at Ash, to try enjoying time with Calum- as I got ready for school the next morning. The exhaustion from a night spent staring at the ceiling was written on my face as I stared in my bathroom mirror. I splashed my face with cold water, hoping to wake myself up a bit, while I debating whether it was worth it or not to fight Mike into stopping somewhere for coffee before school. “Hurry up, I wanna leave in 5,” Mike said, poking his head into the bathroom. Then, “You look like shit.”

I looked him up and down, “Still look better than you.”

He flipped me the finger before turning to leave.

“Wait,” I called out.

“What?” I could hear the eye roll as he turned back to me.

“Can we stop for coffee?”

“If you’re in the truck in 5 minutes and pay, yeah.”

“Deal,” I said, then raced to get ready.

At school, Mike and I quickly went our own ways, him to his girlfriend and his friends, and me to my table to wait for everyone else. Mike liked being early because it gave him more time with his girlfriend, and I didn’t mind it, especially when the alternative was catching a ride with Ash and Kayla because my parents refused to get me a car while Mike and I still went to the same school. I blew in my hands to warm them up against the morning cold, before taking a sip of my coffee, letting the caffeine do its magic in waking me up.

“Hey,” a voice behind me said.

I turned, half expecting to see Ash. “Oh, hey,” I said as Calum sat down next to me. His hair was wet, no doubt from the shower he took after his morning soccer practice. Ash’s hair was always wet for the same reason.

“Don’t sound too excited,” he half-joked.

“Sorry,” I apologized. “Didn’t sleep too well.”

“Nervous about our date? Me too.”

I smiled, realizing this was my moment to shove Ash away from the center of my focus. “I wouldn’t say nervous so much as excited.”

He draped his arm across my shoulders and I leaned into him, watching as a smile broke out across his face. “Cool. Will it be your first date?”

I nodded, slightly embarrassed that as a junior, I still hadn’t been on a date. In my defense, I had been waiting on Ash, but that ship had clearly sailed. “So, I expect the royal treatment,” I told him.

He chuckled, “Flowers, got it.”

It was my turn to laugh, “God, no! I hate flowers. But, I do have a sweet tooth.”

“Chocolate it is then.”

“Much better,” I approved.

“Oh, hey, guys,” Ash’s voice said as he walked up with Kayla, their hands intertwined and swaying softly between them.

“Hey,” I greeted, swallowing the jealous that started to swell up in me. Of course Ash would like a girl like that- soft-spoken, sweet, fingers perfectly manicured. I glanced down at my own fingers- chipped black polish that had been hastily wiped across chewed fingernails, rough calluses from squeezing guitar strings. Why would Ash ever be interested in dating a girl like me when he could have Kayla instead? But Cal seems to like you, a creeping thought offered.

I felt Calum pull back a little. “I’ll, uh, see you later,” he offered when I looked at him questioningly.

“No, stay,” I frowned as I pulled on the arm that was still around me.

“Yeah, man, stay,” Ash said.

At Ash’s approval, Calum settled back down next to me. When his arm squeezed against my side to pull me closer, I rested my head on his shoulder. Across the table, Ash placed a kiss on Kayla’s cheek, before snuggling up next to her.

We sat like that until the bell rang, a quiet stalemate, each of us offering up affection trying to one up each other. When Luke and Sierra joined us, they gave us both a weird look. I shrugged at Sierra, because like her and Luke, I wasn’t sure why Ash and I were acting this way. It wasn’t like we were trying to make each other jealous, were we? I mean, Ash made his choice that he wanted a girl who wasn’t a mess. And could I really blame him for that no matter how bad it hurt?

“So, I’ll see you at lunch?” Calum asked me, getting up and swinging his bag onto his shoulder.

I bit my lip, uncertain. “I usually eat lunch with the guys…”

“I know, but…” his gaze that had been holding mine suddenly dropped to study his shoes. “Just thought my girlfriend might want to eat lunch with me.” 

The words rushed out of his mouth so fast and so low that it took me a moment to process what he said. “Girlfriend?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He looked back at me for a second before looking away again. “Well, yeah… I mean… you are, right?”

“Slow your roll, Hood. I only agreed to a date.” I tried to laugh to make light of the awkwardness of it all and the fluttering feeling in my stomach. Calum Hood wanted to call me his girlfriend? Holy shit! But, Ash...

He chuckled softly with me. He still wouldn’t fully meet my eye when he spoke again, “Well, that’s kinda why I asked you on the date in the first place. I wasn’t asking as a friend, y’know? But, you’re right, let’s see how the date goes first before we start labeling anything.”

“Thanks,” I said, feeling so unsure of everything. He was Calum fuckin Hood. Being his girlfriend would make every girl in our grade lose their shit with jealousy. But, the only person I cared about making jealous was Ash, and I didn’t even want to do that. I wanted Ash to be happy, but I wanted him to be happy with me. But, that clearly wasn’t an option that was readily available to me right now. Fuck, I was in quite the mess. How typical.

“So, that’s a no on lunch?”

“It’s a maybe.”

“Cool, maybe works. See ya, Lys.” The corners of his mouth quirked up and he turned and walked off towards class. I pressed my hands against my cheeks, feeling the warmth seep into my fingertips.

“Oooo!” Sierra teased me, making kissy faces. “Lys likes Calum!”

I caught the small fall in Ash’s face as my own flushed with more heat. “He’s okay,” I shrugged. Why did Ash have to look like that?! He chose Kayla. Why couldn’t I choose Calum?

“Oh, hey, did you guys see the poster for the school talent show?” Luke asked, getting the conversation as far from relationships as possible.

“Yeah, looks cool. Did we want to sign up?” I asked.

“Yeah, that’d be cool,” Sierra agreed.

“Lu, I’m assuming you’re in since you brought it up?” I asked.

“Duh.”

“Cool, Ash?”

“Yeah, sure.” He still looked a little deflated, even as Kayla continued to cling to him.

“Cool. Talk at lunch?”

Luke and Sierra nodded before rushing off to class. Ash and I looked at each other, Kayla now tugging at him to get him to move so they weren’t late. “Uh, see ya,” Ash said before letting himself be towed away.

“Yeah, see ya,” I said to nobody in particular. I took one last sip of my now watered down iced coffee, shuddering at the taste before dumping it and going to class.

I daydreamed in class, drumming my pen against my leg, trying to figure out my conflicting thoughts of Ash and Calum. When lunch time rolled around I decided to put my thoughts about the two boys on the back burner of my mind, and put my attention on coming up with ideas for what we were gonna play for the talent show.

“Anything but acoustic,” Luke started the conversation, slamming his lunch tray down. “It’s too slow, and if I’m gonna risk ruining my rep in front of the school, I want to do something punk, y’know?”

“What rep?” Sierra snickered, sitting down next to him.

“Ha-ha,” he replied halfheartedly.

“So, like what then?” I asked. Although we all knew plenty of songs, we really could only play a very small portion of them well enough to perform in front of people.

He shrugged. “What about one of ours?”

“Our songs are shit, Lu,” Ash told him.

“You’re shit,” Luke responded, throwing a fry at Ash, who casually caught it in his mouth.

We threw some songs around before settling on one that we all felt comfortable with and that would showcase all of our talents. “Alright,” I said, drumming my fingers against the tabletop, “See ya guys. My place, 3:30?”

“Wait, where are you going?” Ash asked, finally directly speaking at me.

I felt a wave of anger wash over me. First he didn’t really say bye to me before first period, then he ignored me practically the whole time we’re deciding a song, and now he wanted to know where I’m going? I swallowed my anger and forced a smile. “I told Cal I’d try to see him at lunch.”

“Cal, huh?” I didn’t like the way he said “Cal” like he was mocking me. I also didn’t like the way his face fell in the same manner it had earlier that day.

“Is that a problem?” I asked.

“No,” he said a little too quickly.

“Good.” I slung my bag over my shoulder and walked the few feet to where Calum was laughing with his friends.

“Oh, hey!” he smiled wide when he saw me, moving over to make room for me. “Guys, this is Lys. Lys, these are the guys, Liam and Josh.”

“Hey,” I greeted, halfheartedly.

“Hey, so you’re Hood’s new chick, huh?” Liam asked.

“We haven’t... “ I stumbled.

“We’re taking things slow,” Calum stepped in. “Right?”

“Right,” I agreed.

“I thought you were with Irwin?” Josh asked.

“Ash? No, he’s been dating Kayla Collins for awhile now.”

“Oh,” Josh said again. “You guys just seem…”

“Close? Yeah, we are. But not like that. Just friends.” I looked over at my table where Ash was laying his head against the crook of Kayla’s neck while she played with his hair. “Yeah, just friends.”

“So, are you guys doing the talent show? You guys have a band, don’t you?” Calum asked.

“Oh, yeah!” I said, perking up. “We were going over what song we’re gonna perform.”

“Sick! What do you play?” Liam asked.

“Lu and I play guitar. Si is our bassist. Ash is our drummer. And we all sing, but mostly Lu and Si do that part.”

“Sick,” he said again, “girl rockstars are hot.”

“Hey, find your own girl rockstar,” Calum mock threatened, wrapping a protective arm around me. “So, are you guys performing your own songs, or are you guys gonna do a cover?”

“We’re performing our own song,” I said, leaning slightly into his embrace. Something about his strength was comforting, like if I ever actually needed protection I could count on him for it. Yeah, while I would give anything to be the girl in Ashton Irwin’s arms, being the girl in Calum Hood’s was pretty fucking sweet.

[onigarbage]

did

I have Dissociative Identity Disorder. In response to trauma, my core personality separated and eventually I came along. I’m not what people would call the core, I just happen to be the current host. I have 10 alters currently, alters are the different personalities. There are Persephone and Jasper, a married couple. Up until last month, Persephone went by Percy. There are Marc and Lily, brother and sister. There are Jake and Nero, a couple, both dormant, however. There’s Alistair, a fictive from my own writings. There’s also James a member of the vulture culture community who loves bees. Then there’s Mars who’s also dormant, and finally, there’s Salem. 

“It’ll take some time, but somewhere down the line, we won’t be alone.”

I watched my fingers type as if it were a film, words popped up on the screen. “I feel like we're dying out here sometimes, it’s like no matter where we go we're dying.” Persephone was right. We were dying up here. Here I was, trapped in my own body once more. Watching someone else take control. I was fine with it, I had become used to it. 

“The ocean washed over your grave.”

When I was little, I was very tall. I was 4’7” by the time I was 5. I was also ahead of my time. Adults loved me, my peers, not so much. Up until 3rd grade, I was very talkative, even through the abuse I had suffered. I was fine. I won’t divulge that trauma, at least. But the Summer of ‘08 changed me. It must’ve been the year the stock market crashed because my family moved from a nice home in Romeo to a trailer. A trailer that had a leaky roof, a trailer that had smoke leaking from a socket one night, a trailer that doesn’t have electricity in parts of it. It was home. It was also the year my mother attempted suicide. 

“I want a cutscene, I want a cut from your face to my face, I want a cut, I want the next related video.”

After that, I began to have “imaginary friends.” The only thing was weird about them was that they could sometimes “possess” me. That’s not exactly how it works but honestly, that’s how my child-brain worked. This is called dissociative identity disorder, formerly called multiple personality disorder. I had only 4 alters then, now I have 10. I also coped by lying, I tried to make myself more interesting than I was. I grew out of it by the time I hit high school, I had lost and regained friends. My closest being Peter. I loved my friends dearly more than anything, but soon things turned sour. 

“I didn’t like you anyways. You always spoke so quiet.”

It was by 10th grade when I started hearing voices again. It was by 10th grade when Peter and I began dating. It was by 10th grade when everything began crumbling. In 10th grade I had started going to therapy, I wanted to figure out what these voices were but I was too embarrassed to tell anyone. So instead I developed a relationship with my therapist and focused on my ADHD. I started taking a plethora of drugs, against my fears of becoming like my parents. They made me very tired, every day after school I began sleeping. During the week I would see myself fighting with Peter. It was all an out of body experience. I found out his name was Marc, he left notes for me. While on a date with Peter I discovered Lily, Peter thought I had age regressed. It was in the shower when I discovered V, he changed me that day. V was a bad person at the time. He’d terrorize Lily, who was only 9. He’d terrorize me in disgusting ways that I dare not tell anyone about. But when he changed we welcomed him. V no longer took the form of a demon but a man with long white hair and big blue beautiful eyes and an even bigger nose. He changed his name to Klaus. My friends soon found out about my alters. Thanks to a then stranger, now good friend Jaden. Jaden found out first, he knew from my Vent profile. Then Peter and Jason found out, but I was most scared to tell my friend Stevie. I felt I had betrayed her in the past and didn’t want to do it again. 

“I was up late last night!!” Klaus said talking to Stevie as we walked to our math class. 

“Yeah I know,” she replied then paused, realizing her mistake. Klaus smiled to himself, so she knew? He thought.

"I saw you again last night you were hiding in a poor man's body. But I saw your soul slip out of his fingers”

Things turned sour fast. I remember being in my history class when everything started. Stevie had posted on Vent that I was abusive. Panic had flooded my chest, my cheeks burned, and tears welled up in my eyes. To think that I was abusive. She then later posted that she would pretend to be uncomfortable if Peter and I had any public displays of affection. I went to the bathroom and sobbed that hour. Then the rest of the day, I don’t remember. Lily had fronted to save me from having to deal with it all. Peter and Stevie began spending more time, I turned nasty from all the stress. From walking on eggshells out of fear of being called abusive to dealing with constant voices who occasionally “possessed” me. I even had to deal with homework and abuse at home. I was stressed back then, and I took it out on him. I accused him of sleeping with Stevie even. By the time we reached 11th grade Stevie started avoiding me, Jason grew apart and Peter broke up with me. By 12th grade I had finally turned things around with Jaden, we stopped being strangers and became friends. We bonded over memes about our deteriorating mental health and the passion we had for the stories we worked on. This was the year I met Ms. Bourlinghaus, who became a mother to me. At the start of the year, seeing Peter gave me panic attacks and made me want to rip my flesh off. 

“Don’t worry! You and me won’t be alone no more.”

I fell in love, twice that year. I don’t remember who I dated first. DID does that to your memory, in fact, I don’t remember anything really before 9th or 10th grade except for my mother’s suicide attempt. But I digress. I fell in love twice that year. I fell in love with a boy named Elliot and a girl named Eve. Both were amazing even though both lasted what I estimate to be a week. Mars even made a pizza with green peppers that were made into a heart for Elliot. We went to see End Game together. Eve and I only talked about kissing, planning to do it where nobody saw us. We joked about kissing by the Chuck E Cheese car ride. We were weird teenagers, well, normal teenagers actually.

Elliot broke up with me because of my age, we’re only a year apart, however, it made him uncomfortable. That’s okay. We still talk to this day. Eve realized that she was a lesbian part way through our relationship, or at least that’s my theory. We also still talk to this day. I consider both of them to be two of my closest friends. 

“You never stopped smoking, but I forgive you. My words and my heart were not enough to give you”

I was 17 when I started vaping. My friends Luke and Zack were doing it so why not me too? I started at 50 nic, which is about 3 and a half cigarettes. Or at least I think, I don’t know anything about cigarettes. Or vaping for that matter. When I turned 18 I became more firm in who I was. I came out to my parents as transgender, my mom had always shrugged it off as me pretending to be someone I’m not, my stepdad has always accepted me but didn’t see why I cared about the surgeries. 

"I wish I was sober, I can’t get off the ground."

A revelation, I am killing myself. With all the weed and smoking. We aren’t dying up here of loneliness but of ourselves. Night after night I’ve induced manic episodes from getting too high. Each night I think of myself as a god. Mostly I’m a fire god, able to feel fire without burning myself. These manic episodes started a few weeks after I was diagnosed with bipolar. My life goes up and down it seems. Caffeine doesn’t help, sugar doesn’t help. Nothing I ate really helped with the mood swings. I feel broken. I want my story to end with hope, not despair. 

“Apologies to future mes and yous.”

I sometimes wonder if I can be better than I am now. If I’m destined to smoke forever. If I’ll always have manic episodes on the weekends. If my life is a constant back and forth between depressed and manic with no balance between both of them. It’s been raining all week, but just now as I type this there’s the sun shining through my window. Everything exists in cycles after the rain comes the sun. Maybe this is just my rain, maybe this storm will last for a few more days or even a few more years. I know now that someday the storm will end and I will see the sun. Then again, I’ve always loved getting caught in a storm. 

“This is a version of me and you that can exist outside of everything else, and if it is just a fantasy, then anything can happen from here.”

A final note: 

All quotes separating text are lyrics from Car Seat Headrest. I’ll include a playlist of songs that I’ve sampled these quotes from. Thank you for reading. http://bit.ly/2WAlYMW 

[lady-therion]

Close Quarters: Part 3 [Nessian]

Summary:  Two people, one cabin, plus a whole lot of love-hate tension.

Modern AU. 

A/N: In close quarters, every moment is a universe. 

***

   If Cassian thought he was fucked before, that was nothing compared to now.

   Now he was fucked with a capital “F.” The kind that was written with blood-red sharpie and underlined three times in that alarming “See me after class!” kind of way. Because in addition to discovering that Nesta actually felt things—possibly more so than anyone he had ever met—he also discovered something else.

    One, she liked romance novels.

   Two, she wore glasses.

   Glasses.

   There were only so many revelations a man could take in a single day.

   “You’re staring again,” she said, from her spot on the sofa.

   “Hn?”

   It was the most intelligent thing he could say once she turned that withering gaze on him, her eyes like blue agates intensified by the spell of those square black frames. An embarrassingly hot burn ran down the back of his neck as he sat across from her, trying to string together words.

   She gestured at the corner of her mouth. “You have a little…”

   He mirrored her, fingers grazing his lips. “What…?”

   “Drool,” she deadpanned.

   His cheeks flamed, close to scalding. The instinct to bat her wry accusation away with some crude remark was tantalizing. That had been the electric thrill of their dynamic, after all. But he sensed that if he fell back into old habits, Nesta would too.

   Because whether she realized it or not, she had been looking to him all night for cues.

   Math and music make no personal demands, she had said, after revealing that she didn’t find him as repulsive as he initially thought. It was a truth that added to the complex algorithm that made up Nesta Archeron. Just when he thought he was closer to solving her, the more compounded she became.

   At the military academy, he learned the concept of equivalency: the strategy of giving up an advantage in order to gain something of equal value.

   Against all his expectations, Nesta had given him a truth. Probably at great personal cost. So it was only fair for him to start doing the same.

   “Again,” she said. “The drooling. Should I get you a cup?”

   He grinned. “Sorry, can’t help it. I’m just really digging your glasses.”  

   “Liar,” she said. “Nobody likes glasses.”

   He spread his arms across the back of the couch, keeping a respectable distance. They were actually having a conversation! A civil one!

   “First: Friendship 101,” he reminded her. “Friends don’t lie. And second: People do like glasses. None of that bullshit like in the movies where the guy takes off a girl’s specs and suddenly everyone realizes just how gorgeous she is. Anyone who tells you otherwise is a prick.”

   She said nothing for a moment, that preternatural stare working overtime as he watched her process and dissect his words a million different ways.

   “My ex didn’t like my glasses,” she said, finally. “He said they made me look owlish. But I can’t help it. I get it migraines.”

   His blood simmered as an irrational urge to punch something coursed through him. He congratulated himself on keeping his voice flat as he said, “You don’t look owlish. I hoped you dumped his ass.”

   She smirked. “He dumped me, actually.”

   He incredulity knew no depths. “What? Why?”

   She shrugged, her expression shuttering. “I would think...the reason is obvious.”

   The pang in his chest felt as sharp as an arrowhead.

  No, he wanted to say, it wasn’t obvious.

  “Nesta—”

   “It’s nothing,” she said, brusque and dismissive. “Let’s talk about something else.”

   Cassian didn’t want to drop it, but he filed it away as another thorny variable of the Nesta Archeron algorithm. He always had this image of men—or women, for that matter—throwing themselves at her feet. Sure, she could be intimidating as hell. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t worthy of someone’s affection.

   Or acceptance.

   More than anything, he wished could just say this to her. But equivalency demanded that Cassian take no more than he was given and he made too much progress to upset that balance now. So he cast around for something else to talk about when he finally settled on the books she had spilled across his coffee table.

   She had done it by accident, having upended her bag in a semi-frustrated search for those (not at all mesmerizing) glasses. Now its surface was hidden beneath heavy tomes on quantum physics, differential equations, and mass market paperbacks featuring shirtless men on the cover. He leaned down to pick through them; historical bodice rippers with names like The Earl with the Dragon Tattoo and One for the Rogue.

   “Seriously?”

   Nesta snatched them from out of his hand. “Seriously.”

   He cleared his throat. “So, your taste in reading...”

   “Tease me all you like,” she said, her tone and posture frosting over. “I won’t apologize for enjoying stories where the woman has all the power for once. I won’t apologize for enjoying relationships that survived the odds, however ridiculous or exaggerated. And I won’t apologize for liking sex.”

    He held up his hands in placation. “You definitely don’t have to apologize for that last one.” Then immediately winced at how flippant that sounded. “Wait. That came out wrong. Let me...”  

   “How do you do that?” asked Nesta. “How do you always throw me off-kilter?”

   “I throw you off-kilter?”

   “Yes,” she said, grimacing. “I’ve told you more things in the past few hours that even my own sisters don’t know. It doesn’t make any sense. The answers elude me and it’s just so frustrating.”  

   There were several things Cassian could have said. All of them were wholly inadequate. So he stewed in the ensuing silence, that weird fog of tension, until Nesta rose and asked him where the bathroom was.

   “Upstairs to the right,” he said, and watched as she left him without a backwards glance.

***

   Nesta wished she had another set of clothes.

   At the moment, all she had was a blue wool sweater that was so shapeless, it slid off her shoulder like a burlap sack. Her black jeans had faded to a dull gray, making the rips and stains more apparent. In short, she looked like an underfed undergraduate. In reality, she was an underpaid doctoral candidate. Any money she received from her stipend went to her two worst vices: her caffeine habit and her shoe collection.

   Normally, she wouldn’t care how she looked. But Cassian…

   It wasn’t that she wanted to look attractive for him. That was preposterous. She just didn’t want to look like a bespectacled stray that stumbled upon his doorstep either (even if that was exactly what she was). Pride was a hard thing for her to aside. The fact that Cassian could shred through it like paper—and that she allowed him to—was terrifying beyond measure.

   And yet she couldn’t forget the way his breath had branded her skin…

   They hadn’t talked about that. How he whispered into her ear about how surprising he found her. He hadn’t said it in a snide way either, as if she were something to be owned and objectified. It was a far cry from how Tomas treated her, the memories of which she had firmly shut in a coffin until a single interaction with Cassian had coaxed it out. 

   No, really. How did he do that?

   Sighing, she took a moment to glance at her surroundings. Cassian had lent her the guest bedroom on the second floor, which also came with its own bathroom. Like the rest of the cabin, the space it was rustic and charming. It irked her. Everything from the cherry wood panels to the marble white countertops to the built-in skylights made her feel...out of place.

   Towels, she thought.

   Answers wouldn’t come to her if she was overwrought and overtired. Self-care and a hot shower would have to the best interim solution.

   But in order to do that, she needed towels.

   A cursory look downstairs told her that Cassian was no longer on the first floor. Most likely, he had gone to bed. Which was just as well. She didn’t know if she could face him when she was feeling so...exposed. Still, she couldn’t ignore the slight tinge of disappointment. Had she really grown so used to him being there, baiting her or otherwise?

   In any case, her shower would have to wait.

   And of course, Cassian appeared out of nowhere just as she shut him out of her thoughts.

   And of course, he happened to be fresh from his own hot shower; rivulets of water running down the ridges, divots, and cuts of those hard-earned muscles. Muscles that stood stark even under the whorls of tattoos that seemed like an elegant extension of his dark, tanned skin.

   And of course, she also happened to forget her own powers of speech as she surveyed the towering mass of his barely clothed presence, trying in vain to keep her photographic memory from engraving him in her mind.

   “Oh,” she said.

   Cassian blinked, finally noticing her there at the end of the hall.

   “Oh.”

 ***

Thank you for reading, my loves.

Other chapters be found in the Masterlist in my Bio / I am Lady_Therion on AO3

[aspire-to-the-light]

Some personal thoughts on alcohol

I’ve always been a little scared of alcohol.

I have good personal reasons to be a little scared of alcohol. My father was something of an alcoholic; he’d stay out late at the pub, drive home drunk and yell at my mother (at least until he was given a DUI with me in the passenger seat, at which point my mother made him stop). Many of the people I knew in school started drinking very underage, at not-really-that-secret parties in back gardens and attics and locations which weren’t usually literally ‘behind the bike shed’ but are well described by the phrase. Those alcoholic parties caused problems. This was an upper class kind of thing, so nobody really got arrested, but a lot of girls were repeatedly raped. I was a lonely miserable nerd who never ever drank and I was pretty attached to that because it seemed like it kept me safe.

I also have good non-personal, fairly objective reasons to be scared of alcohol; it’s a fairly dangerous drug. It’s not that inherently dangerous, but the culture around it makes it more dangerous. Many people and spaces will encourage or pressure you to drink more than you really consent to drinking, downplay the risks and fail to implement safeguards, and normalise intoxication to the point that doing stupid things while dangerously drunk seems funny. Plenty of people get hurt or die, all the time, because they got drunk and ended up in fights or car accidents.

Earlier this year I decided to try alcohol anyway, for a myriad of reasons. Partly I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Partly I wanted to stare the demon in the face, and understand more about this terrible substance that fucked up so many people I knew. Partly I was interested in the general idea of a drug that might make me relax for once in my life, and alcohol was the only really legal one.

So I had three units - an amount I calculated as enough for someone of my body weight to be affected but not be at any real risk of poisoning - of cider, at home with somebody I trusted to take care of me and ensure I didn’t do anything stupid. My sitter was fantastic and made sure I didn’t spend any money, post anything publicly, or send badly spelled emails to any potential employers.

So I washed up all my dirty dishes, because as it turns out, alcohol lowers your inhibitions. I was really fucking inhibited about touching that pile of mouldy plates. Alcohol made me want to clean them all.

And then when it was wearing off I lay down for a bit, and had this incredibly lovely experience of just lying down being enough. See, I have the kind of ADHD where boredom is literally ever-present and must be fought against constantly. I can’t ever just lie down and relax, because I wouldn’t be stimulated enough, so I’d be bored, and I’d get the urge to jump up and run around and sing loudly and do stuff. I can be listening to loud punk rock music and talking to friends while playing a fairly intense video game and still need to pick my phone up and multitask a bit more so I won’t be understimulated. Scrolling social media can provide a sort of brief respite by being hypnotic enough that I don’t care that I’m incredibly bored, but usually I struggle to feel really good and happy if I’m not hosting a party where I’m juggling cooking five different meals, singing along to music and talking to guests about difficult academic problems. I think a good life for me would be, like, a 24/7 high speed car chase with the radio blasting and people fighting hand-to-hand through the car windows.

So there I was, just lying in bed looking at the walls and the ceiling and daydreaming quietly, and.... it was okay. It didn’t take any active effort to suppress my urge to be loud; it was just natural to be quiet. It wasn’t painful to stay still. My brain didn’t itch. The silence wasn’t deafening - if anything it was a pleasant kind of quiet, and I could appreciate the little rustles of carpet underfoot and the breath of air through the cracked window. I didn’t need to get up and jump around and do something, because it was perfectly fine to just be there where I was. The way my lamps honeyed the wood of my cabinets was pretty, and my own thoughts were engaging, and the blankets were warm, and that was interesting enough that I didn’t need to go seek out more.

That was really good, and wasn’t at all like the experience I had imagined. I had imagined alcohol as this thing that strips away your civility and gives you random impulses to do stupid things, with the particular impulses varying from punching people to trainsurfing to lying on the floor giggling depending on unpredictable facts about your brain. It does affect everyone differently, but for me it mostly just magically created the kind of state of relaxation that I’d normally have to work very hard on building the circumstances to achieve.

Okayness with the world has been easier to achieve, I think, since then; I have a better idea of what it feels like, so I know what I’m trying to achieve.

I’d said beforehand that I was just going to try it once, just because I wanted to know, and then never again. It was sort of difficult to admit that I was wrong. Partly because it’s just always difficult, when you’ve been very proud of Not Conforming To Normality for many years, to admit that normal people kinda had the right of it. Partly out of what I think is still a legitimate concern that trying something and finding it good is not good evidence for doing it again if that thing is known to be addictive. It is useful and important to be able to commit to trying only so much of an addictive thing and then stopping.

I changed my mind because I trust myself more than I did before. I was fixed on the idea that I needed to never have alcohol, because that was the only way to ensure I didn’t have a bad amount of alcohol. Sometimes commitments like that are necessary, but only if you have a good reason to be afraid that there’s a slippery slope. I know that I need to play no Minecraft at all today, because if I say to myself “just five minutes” I’ll play Minecraft for hours; I have lots of experience and evidence that tells me this will be the case. I decided I believed in my ability to discern what a sensible amount of alcohol to consume is, and stick to it, and so far I haven’t had evidence to the contrary.

I’ve been able to relax the limits as I learned more about alcohol, in a way that genuinely doesn’t feel like I’m ignoring my commitments as I get addicted; it feels like growth. The first time I tried it I was adamant about a lot of limits. I bought a single can of cider so it would be impossible to have more even if I wanted to. I made sure I had a sitter I trusted. I did not leave my room. I ate beforehand and drank a lot of water during. I did a lot of research on alcohol content and my body weight. I didn’t take my normal medications because I wasn’t sure if there’d be any interaction.

On subsequent occasions I’ve tried alcohol outside the house - again with the same person I trusted to look after me, who held my hand carefully to make sure I didn’t stumble in front of any cars. I’ve tried it relatively unplanned, after an ordinary day where I took my meds (I looked up possible interactions and found none) and did normal things, again with the OK of someone I trusted just to make sure I wasn’t making really dumb decisions. I’ve tried it on a day when I had also drunk caffeine, after I was confident the caffeine had all worn off and I wasn’t having enough of either to hurt me.

I’ve tried alcohol without anyone physically present to take care of me, just friends on a voice call, and had an insanely good time playing video games with some other drunk people who all thought it was hilarious to play the game how it was absolutely not meant to be played. I knew by that point how alcohol affected me, I was fairly certain nothing bad would happen, and I knew I would be capable of calling for help fairly nearby if something bad did happen. I knew I would be staying inside the entire time, and I had water and well-stocked food cupboards.

Most recently I had a glass of champagne for New Year, outside of the house, without a pre-designated person to look after me. I was with friends, and I made them aware that I’m a lightweight and checked in with them that they’d be okay with taking some responsibility for making sure I got home alright, and they were. I ate a decent meal beforehand, drank plenty of water, and had a fairly small glass.

I’ve learned that I have not, whatever my fears, inherited some kind of genetic alcoholism. I don’t need absolute, deontological rules to prevent any chance that I might do something stupid. I am capable of not doing anything really stupid, even when my rules allow me to do things that are stupidity-adjacent.

I’ve definitely fucked up with alcohol. I shouldn’t have accepted half a glass of wine when it was offered at a work celebration; I knew I was going home immediately afterwards, but didn’t realise how incredibly overwhelming and intimidating alcohol would make navigating the Tube, and I got quite distressed and had to take a taxi to the rail station. I tried using it as a study drug once, on the theory that I’m inhibited about studying and maybe it would help, and I fucked up by choosing someone to watch me who has severe depression. Her mood influenced my own a lot more when I was tipsy, so we both just kind of sat around and felt miserable and I didn’t get anything done.

I think I’m okay, though, with having rules that don’t try to prevent anything bad from ever happening, but just minimise how bad things can really get. I’ve fucked up with alcohol and it’s cost me the price of a taxi and a half-day of productivity. I learned things. It was okay.

I can still count the number of units of alcohol I’ve ever consumed, but it will be okay if I lose count, because I don’t need to be able to tell people that number to prove I’m not my father’s daughter. I know I’m responsible. It is healthy if I don’t feel the need to prove it.

I have rules about alcohol which I genuinely don’t think I’ll ever relax, no matter how experienced with it I get, and other rules which I’ve added as I learned that some things are bad ideas. I won’t have alcohol in the company of people who I don’t like and trust. I won’t have alcohol with other people unless they’ve consented to taking a little responsibility for me. I won’t have it alone, though physically alone is fine if there’s people connected by voice or video. I won’t have it if someone I respect tells me it’s a bad idea to do that right now. I will not be pressured into having more than I intended to have. I won’t drink it at work, or in big cities, or when there’s a difficult transit system between me and home. I make sure that I have food and verifiably-not-spiked water available, that I know how to call for help and that it’s nearby if needed, and that I don’t have important or difficult tasks that I’m responsible for.

I’m still horrified when I witness things like... I did an internship in the City this summer where our bosses took us for drinks and then people banged on the tables chanting to pressure an intern into racing to drink an entire bottle of wine faster than his supervisor. That was very bad. And I expressed my horror at the time, and frankly I don’t care that I didn’t get the job.

But I like alcohol. So, once a month or perhaps even fortnightly, it’s okay to have a drink. Even two drinks, on rare occasions. I have carefully studied the literature and concluded it is unlikely this is enough to cause me significant harm.

And I’m actually really pleased with this development. It feels from the inside like a healthy relationship to alcohol. It feels okay to let go of some of my younger self’s fearful commitments and rules. I’m proud that I can have this, that growing up around such unhealthy attitudes towards alcohol does not mean I have to be abstinent forever.

Being teetotal fit in with the identity I built for myself, once. I was the good kid in school, the one who never drank and never dated and got good grades and never swore. I think I needed that identity as a crutch when I wasn’t so sure of myself, and as help to resist peer pressure when I wasn’t so good at boundaries, and as a simple way of making choices when I wasn’t good at that either. But it turns out it’s okay to, piece by piece, let go of the entire thing.

I do not think this is grounds to recommend alcohol to everyone. I recently had a pretty appalling experience where someone in my friendship group got drunk and we all made the delightful discovery that excessive alcohol gives him psychotic episodes where he worships a mad death god who wants him to kill people. I have set a hard boundary that I will leave if this friend has more than a couple of drinks because I do not enjoy the experience of a friend giggling while graphically describing exactly how he’d love to slowly murder me. There are people who should not drink, not ever, not even with all the rules and limits that have successfully kept me safe.

It’s just... my experience, I guess, which I wanted to share because I feel like I’ve learned a lot through the entire process. Sometimes things that are scary can be genuinely dangerous, and yet if you navigate them carefully and responsibly, you can extract the wonderful part without ever placing yourself in much danger. Sometimes you don’t need hard rules that wall off the stupid things you could possibly do, if you trust yourself to just not do stupid things. Sometimes taking pride in never being tempted means you’re cutting yourself off from something good.

Alcohol still scares me a little, and that’s fine. It should. Just not irrationally so.

[ravenqueensspecialboi]

Haikyuu Halloweek Day 5: The Eater of Dreams (Demons)

Ship: DaiSuga Rating: E Warnings: NSFW (Demon sex) Summary: Daichi woke with a gasp and bolted upright, sweat soaked and panicked. It took him a few moments to remember where he was, even longer for his hands to stop trembling. He was in his room, in his bed. He was okay, he was safe. With a sigh, Daichi flopped down against his pillows. It had been a nightmare, one of many in the past month. He couldn't remember the exact details, however, he never did. He would wake up each night in a panic, only to be lulled back to a dreamless sleep a few minutes later. He would wake in the morning with no recollection of the nightmare, but the sense of dread remained just the same. The dread, and the faintest memory of a face. Read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16446758

Fic under the cut!

Daichi woke with a gasp and bolted upright, sweat soaked and panicked.  It took him a few moments to remember where he was, even longer for his hands to stop trembling.  He was in his room, in his bed.  He was okay, he was safe.  With a sigh, Daichi flopped down against his pillows.  

It had been a nightmare, one of many in the past month.  He couldn't remember the exact details, however, he never did.  He would wake up each night in a panic, only to be lulled back to a dreamless sleep a few minutes later.  He would wake in the morning with no recollection of the nightmare, but the sense of dread remained just the same.  The dread and the faintest memory of a face.

The memory of the face bothered Daichi more than the nightmares.  Every morning, the memory would be there, just out of reach, revealing nothing but a handful of features.  Silver hair, yellow eyes, a single mole, and a gentle smile betrayed only by sharp teeth behind soft lips.  Nobody in Daichi's waking life resembled the face in his memories, and it was slowly driving Daichi insane.  Who did the face belong to, and why were they connected to Daichi's nightmares?  Daichi wished he knew.

As he lay in bed, Daichi could feel sleep creeping back to him.  His limbs felt heavy, his eyelids began to droop.

'Sleep now,' a voice whispered in the back of his mind. 'By morning, you won't remember any of your nightmares.'

"Who are you?" Daichi asked, his voice sluggish as sleep overtook him.

'The Eater of Dreams.'

Things continued in this pattern.   Daichi continued to wake in the middle of the night from a horrific nightmare, and each time he would be lulled back to sleep by a gentle voice.  Every morning he would wake with no memory of the nightmare, and the face would be no clearer.  His curiosity was overwhelming; who, or what, was doing this to him?  Why did it pick him? Daichi had so many questions, but the only way to get them answered was to confront whoever was doing this.  But every time Daichi tried to catch whatever was doing this to him, he'd be put to sleep.  No matter how hard he tried to stay awake, he'd drift off and not wake until his alarm went off the next morning.  He'd have to come up with a way to trick whatever this was.  He had to have a plan.

***

His plan, when he finally came up with it, was relatively simple – chug an energy drink, pretend to sleep, catch whatever this thing was in the act.  It wasn't the best plan, but it was basic enough to work.   Hopefully.  Daichi tried not to think about the next steps of his plan too much.  He would have to make the rest up when he found out what he was dealing with.

He drank the energy drink just before his usual bedtime.  It was a strange break from routine, but he was on a mission. Satisfied that the caffeine content would be enough, Daichi changed into his pajamas.  He laid down facing the door, cracking his eyes open just enough to see his room and settled in for what he hoped was a sleepless night.  

A few hours went by before he finally found what he was looking for.  Just around midnight, a pale blue glow emanated from the middle of Daichi's room.  It faded after a few moments, revealing the intruder Daichi had been waiting for.  He was around Daichi's height, with silver hair, pointed ears and yellow eyes.  His clothing was antiquated, and loosely draped over his thin frame.  As the intruder walked towards the bed, each step was quiet and careful.  He moved with inhuman grace, his eyes never leaving Daichi's form.

'He really is beautiful,' Daichi thought.

The intruder stopped at the bed, watching Daichi.  He stood still for a minute, and then crawled onto the bed.  He leaned over Daichi, raising a hand and reaching for Daichi's temple.  His hand glowed pale blue.  Just before he could touch Daichi, Daichi sprang into action.

"Got you!" Daichi shouted, grabbing the intruder by the wrist.

The intruder screeched, flailing backwards off the bed and pulling Daichi with him.  The two landed in a heap on the ground.  Before the intruder could react, Daichi pinned him to the floor.  The intruder thrashed under him, but Daichi had his wrists in a vice-like grip.

"Get off of me!" the intruder hissed, his voice harsh, but familiar.

"Not until you tell me what you've been doing in my house!" Daichi snapped.

"I told you, I'm the Eater of Dreams!  I've been doing just that!"

"Don't lie to me!"

"I'm telling the truth!" the intruder snapped.  "I've been eating your nightmares, you ungrateful asshole!"

"Just eating them, or giving them to me too?" Daichi asked.

The intruder stilled under Daichi, his chest heaving from exertion.  He glared up at Daichi, his yellow eyes flashing with danger.  Daichi ignored the stirrings in his stomach at the sight; it wasn't a good time to be getting worked up.

"I can't give people nightmares," the intruder spat, "I only eat them.  I'm a dream eating demon.  There's probably a different demon around here giving them to you."

Daichi blinked, "Wait, demon?"

"As much as I enjoy being held down by a strong human, I'd enjoy this conversation a lot more if you and I were on equal footing."

Daichi tightened his grip on the demon's wrists.  "Not until you give me more information."

The demon scoffed, "Like what?  A name?"

"Sure."

"Fine.  Sugawara Koushi, the Eater of Dreams.  My friends call me Suga.  You happy now?"

"Not in the slightest," Daichi grumbled.  "Why have you been eating my dreams?"

"Because I need to eat and you have particularly tasty nightmares," Sugawara said as if it were the most obvious fact on the planet.

"Why me?"

"What part of 'particularly tasty nightmares' did you not get?"

"If you aren't giving me nightmares, then who is?"

Sugawara gave Daichi a shrug.  Daichi scowled at him.

"What, you think I know every demon there is?" Sugawara asked.  "Do you know every human there is?"

"Well, no."

"Exactly."

Daichi loosened his grip on Sugawara's wrists.  He sat back on his heels as Sugawara sat up while rubbing his wrists.

"I don't understand," Daichi murmured.

"I wouldn't expect you to," Sugawara said.  "Most humans never meet a dream eating demon.  It's bad for business."

"Business?"

"It's an expression."

Daichi found it odd that a demon would explain a human turn of phrase to a human, but he declined to comment on it.

"What now?" Daichi asked.

Sugawara cocked his head to the side as he asked, "What do you mean?  I go back to eating your dreams.  End of."

"So I'm just going to have nightmares for the rest of my life, then?"

Daichi bit back a smile as Sugawara rolled his eyes and let out a huff.  Sugawara was kind of cute when he was annoyed.

"You humans, always so melodramatic," Sugawara muttered.  "Tell you what.  I'll find whoever is giving you nightmares and tell them to tone it down.  But only if you agree to let me keep eating your dreams."

"That's it?" Daichi asked.

"Take it or leave it."

Daichi took a minute to weigh his options.  It might not be the best deal, but he could find a way to sweeten it.

"Well?" Sugawara pressed.

"Tell you what," Daichi began, "I'll accept your deal, but on one condition."

Sugawara raised an eyebrow; Daichi had his undivided attention.  "Oh?"

"I'll let you eat my dreams, but you have to tell me about yourself before you do," Daichi said.

"Why would I do that?"

Daichi shrugged, "You've gotten to know my psyche pretty well, I'd guess.  I think it's only fair that you tell me about yourself."

Sugawara tapped a finger against his lips.  It was his turn to weigh his options.

"Take it or leave it," Daichi said with a grin.

Sugawara chuckled, his sharp teeth glinting in the low light of the room.  "You've got yourself a deal, Sawamura," he said. "It'll be a pleasure doing business with you."

Daichi smiled. "Call me Daichi," he told the demon.

"Daichi it is."

***

The pair soon established a new routine.  True to his word, Sugawara found the demon responsible for Daichi's nightmares and scared him off.  In exchange, Daichi let Sugawara eat his dreams.  It left him feeling a little blank in the mornings, but blank was better than being consistently full of dread.  It wasn't that bad of a deal, if Daichi were honest.  Some nights Sugawara would let him dream.  Those dreams were often of Sugawara, but Daichi didn't mind. He found that he was growing fond of the demon.  They got along surprisingly well.  Sugawara was charming, and he liked to tell Daichi tales about being a demon, about the dreams he ate.  He was a natural storyteller, and Daichi appreciated his company.  

Likewise, Daichi grew on Sugawara.  A month into their arrangement, Sugawara boasted that he was feeding solely from Daichi.

"It's strange to be this monogamous, but your dreams are really all I need," Sugawara told him.

"That's an interesting use of the word 'monogamous'," Daichi said.

"What can I say? I'm committed to you and your dreams."

The pair blushed at the same time, both clearly affected by Sugawara's sudden declaration.  Sugawara shot up from where he had been sitting and made for the window.  Daichi lunged across the bed and grabbed his wrist.

"Suga, wait," he said.  "Don't go."

Sugawara froze.  He turned to look at Daichi, his movements as careful and calculated as they had been the night Daichi had caught him. His yellow eyes flashed with panic. Daichi had never seen him like this.

"Don't go," Daichi repeated.  "Please."

Sugawara hesitated, and then nodded.  He let Daichi pull him back towards the bed.

"When you say 'committed to me', what do you mean?" Daichi asked.

"You're my human," Sugawara replied.

"In what way?"

Sugawara crawled onto the bed, crowding Daichi back against the headboard.  He leaned in close, close enough that Daichi could feel his breath against his lips.

"In any and every way," he whispered.

"Suga-."

"Call me Koushi," Sugawara murmured.  "Please."

"Koushi," Daichi whispered.

Koushi closed the distance, slamming his lips against Daichi's and almost knocking him off the bed. Daichi retaliated by grabbing a fistful of Koushi's hair and tugging.  Koushi growled against Daichi's lips.  Daichi tugged again, this time pulling Koushi's head back so he could kiss the demon's neck.  He bit down on the column of skin and Koushi gasped.

"Daichi… Daichi!" Koushi groaned.

Daichi took the opportunity to flip Koushi onto his back and climb on top of him.  He lowered his hips to grind against Koushi, earning another loud moan from the demon.  Koushi threw his head back, his pupils blown wide.  Daichi dropped his mouth to Koushi's.  Koushi shoved his tongue into Daichi's mouth, his hands coming up to rake down Daichi's back.  It was Daichi's turn to moan.

"You like that, huh?" Koushi teased.

Daichi sat up long enough to peel off his shirt.  Koushi sat up, watching Daichi with pure hunger in his eyes.  Daichi pushed Koushi back down, bracing himself with his elbows as he caged Koushi in.

"Do that again," he whispered.

Koushi wrapped his arms around Daichi, pulling him close enough so he could grind against Daichi. Daichi groaned, burying his face against Koushi's neck.  Koushi dragged his nails down Daichi's back, leaving little stings of pain in their wake.

"Koushi!"

"Tell me what you need, Daichi," Koushi murmured.

"Don't stop," Daichi said.

Koushi chuckled, "As you wish."

Daichi lifted his head to press his lips to Koushi's.  He had been feeling frantic at first, but the more he kissed Koushi, the calmer he felt. This was where he was meant to be, he realized.  Right here with Koushi.

"I think I love you," he whispered, each word accentuated with a kiss.

Koushi paused.  He looked up at Daichi with wide eyes.  For a second, Daichi was worried he had said the wrong thing.  To his surprise, Koushi flipped him onto his back.  Guessing what was about to happen, Daichi reached into his bedside table and pulled out a bottle of lube.  Koushi took the bottle, squirting some in his hand before he slammed his mouth against Daichi's hard enough that Daichi swore he cut himself on Koushi's teeth.  Koushi trailed his hand down Daichi's body until he reached Daichi's sweatpants.  He slipped past the waistband, wrapping slender fingers around Daichi's erection. Daichi yelped in surprise, the cold of the lube a surprise, but Koushi swallowed the sound.  He pumped his fist up and down Daichi's shaft, slow at first, but soon he set a steady rhythm that had Daichi coming undone beneath him. After a few minutes, Daichi was shaking, his orgasm imminent.

"Kou- Koushi!" Daichi gasped against Koushi's lips.

"I love you too," Koushi murmured.

It was all too much for Daichi.  With a muffled cry, he came into Koushi's hand.  Koushi continued to pump his fist up and down Daichi's shaft as pleasure wracked Daichi's body.  It was over just as soon as it began, leaving Daichi breathless but satiated.  Koushi pulled his hand from Daichi's pants, taking a tissue from the nightstand and wiping his hand off.  Once cleaned, he leaned down and kissed Daichi, softer than he had before.

"I love you," Daichi repeated.

"I love you too," Koushi whispered, resting his forehead against Daichi's.

They stayed that way for a few minutes, just enjoying each others' company and trading lazy kisses. Once some of his energy came back, Daichi rolled Koushi onto his back.

"Your turn."

[galway-bae]

I mentioned I was writing some short horror, so here it is! I put it below the cut so as not to Destroy your dashboard. Read on for infrasound shenanigans. 

I work at a bookshop.

Yeah, I know, you’re probably backing out now. You’re assuming this is my grab at a book deal, writing a “totally true horror story” and waiting to go viral. But I promise you, I’ve never wanted to write a book. Hell, I didn’t particularly want to sell them. It’s my great-uncle’s store, really. Uncle George. He hired me straight out of college so I could make some cash, spent a year showing me the ropes, and promptly kicked the bucket. Nobody in the family wanted to take it over, but nobody wanted to sell it either. So now it’s mine.

It’s not a bad gig. I have a small apartment tucked into a corner of the attic, a bathroom and tiny kitchen behind the “Employees Only!” door in the back, and a washer and dryer crammed behind the stacked boxes of books sharing the basement.

I say my great-uncle kicked the bucket, but that’s not entirely true. He vanished. My family assumed he was dead, and knowing what I do now, I’m inclined to agree. The bookshop had always felt halfway out of reality, if only because of its status as a stereotypical cozy little store. It was the smell of new paper and the crowded maze of shelves. It was the fact that each of those shelves held a multitude of other universes sandwiched between layers of paper. Once my great-uncle disappeared, it was the unknown pressing over the entire building, a heavy blanket of “how” and “when” and “why.” I liked to imagine that other people could feel it too, despite not knowing about the mystery. I think people can feel that sort of thing. It seeps into a building and saturates the wood with its smell.

It first happened on a Thursday morning. I was trying to shave in the dingy bathroom mirror, silently cursing myself for putting off buying a new one. It was my everyday routine. Buying a new mirror couldn’t be more than a twenty minute errand but procrastination to the point of absurdity has always been a talent of mine.

As I dragged the razor across my face I felt suddenly dizzy. My head swam, ears muffled like they were stuffed with cotton, and grey spots appeared in my field of vision. It was gone just as quickly, the grey blotches fading away to be replaced with red ones. I’d cut my face, I realized. The blood dripped high-contrast spots against the white porcelain of the sink. I wiped it up with a wad of toilet paper and slapped a bandaid on the wound.

The dizziness didn’t concern me much. It was either too much caffeine or too little, and once I poured myself a cup of coffee I’d find out. I knew I’d missed patches on my face thanks to the grimy mirror but I didn’t feel like risking another cut. Bloodstains in the bathroom are bad for business. When I walked out, mug in hand, Leo was at the cash register.

“What’s up?”

I’d met Leo when I helped Uncle George run a Dungeons & Dragons event at the bookshop. Yeah, I know, I’m a walking geek cliche. Sue me. Anyway, George wanted to attract more customers who weren’t septuagenarians, so I ran a short campaign to lure in my fellow youths. Leo was a D&D first-timer who teased me mercilessly about calling myself a dungeon master and using words like “constitution” and “prestidigitation” outside the D&D table. I liked him immediately.

At that moment, he was sitting on the stool I kept behind the register, long legs kicked up on the counter. He’d come in through the back, most likely--friends got access to the store before and after hours. He eyed me over.

“Cut yourself shaving?” “Yes, actually”

“You missed a spot,” he gestured towards my patchy shave job. I flipped him off. He smiled back, swinging his legs off the counter.

He didn’t seem to notice, but I still felt queasy even with the spots long gone. I squashed the churning in my stomach down with a mouthful of coffee.

The rest of the day was normal. Leo left for his own job, and I sold books to older townsfolk, hipsters, high school students, the normal small stream of customers. My nausea faded along with the residual dizziness as the day passed. I’d have forgotten the incident altogether if not for the cut on my jaw, which served as a stinging reminder whenever I turned my head too far and tugged at the bandaid’s adhesive.

Long after closing time, I put a slapdash dinner together in the shop’s tiny kitchen. I sat on the counter and waited for the toaster oven to preheat. With the shop empty and quiet, a prickle of apprehension danced on my neck. I often got that feeling when I stood at the bottom of a dark staircase after closing time, my body insisting that I was being pursued by something just out of sight, and I would squash down the urge to bolt. This time, though, was different. I saw someone.

The kitchenette door sat at the periphery of my vision and through it, just for a second, I saw a figure in the shop. It stared at me from behind the nearest bookshelf, upper body slumped to the left at a broken angle, long neck holding a flat, pale face that leered eyelessly. I felt the cold jolt of adrenaline rush into my body, my chest heaving as I struggled to breathe.

And then it was gone.

My nausea was back with a vengeance and I felt dizzy again. The thing in my store had been the same staticky shade of grey I’d seen that morning, I realized, which meant one of two things: I was going crazy, or my missing uncle’s creepy bookstore was haunted. The cut on my face throbbed.

I breathed slowly through my nose and tried not to throw up. By the time I had enough control of my nausea and anxiety to stand, the toaster oven had long since preheated and the ice in my glass was water. The thought of staying in the kitchen filled me with dread. I ate my dinner half-frozen, hiding in my room with the door locked, then huddled under my blanket until I felt safe enough to sleep. I left the lights on.

With the next morning’s sunlight filtering into my room, the previous night’s breakdown seemed silly. I kicked off my covers. I was still in my jeans and button-down, both wrinkled from fitful sleep, and felt the unique groggy grossness that comes with sleeping in your clothes.

It had to have been a panic attack. It wouldn’t explain away a hallucination, but it did line up with the hyperventilation, nausea, and crushing fear. More importantly, I could understand a panic attack. That was a reality I could parse more easily than any haunted bookstore bullshit. Still, I couldn’t quite bring myself to cross the threshold of my kitchen, so I texted Leo to bring me some coffee.

He arrived minutes later with two cups and a paper bag, which he tossed at me from the door after knocking it open with one hip.

“You look terrible,” he said once he’d plopped onto a stool.

“Thanks.” I tore a chunk from the bagel he’d brought me and washed it down with a swig of coffee. Where my family business gave me free books and, apparently, the occasional incorporeal stalker, Leo’s provided free food. Figures.

“Rough night?” He winked over his paper to-go cup.

“Something like that,” I muttered, too exhausted to return the banter.

“Well now you have to tell me.” His voice remained conversational, teasing, but I saw the tell-tale knit of his eyebrows. He was worried. So I sighed, put my cup down, and started from the beginning.

By the time my explanation was finished, Leo’s whole face was tight with concern, his hands folded, pointy elbows resting on pointy knees as he leaned towards me.

“You should see a doctor,” he said, casual affectations completely stripped away, “What if it’s a brain tumor or something?”

“No.” My gut twisted. I hated doctors. They always looked at me strangely once they’d seen the sweeping scars on my chest and done a double take at my file. And whether I was there for a sore throat or a sprained ankle, they would always open with something about “the side effects of hormone therapy” or my “unique situation.” I met Leo’s eyes desperately.

“Fine. No doctor,” he relented, “but if this gets worse you’d better call me.”

It did.

That night, I found myself doubled over the toilet, coughing violently as I painted the porcelain bowl in vomit. I sat up, chest heaving and face coated in cold sweat, and tried to blink away the spots peppering my field of vision.

The thing was back.

Its impossibly tall form slumped in the bathroom’s doorway. Its head looked too heavy for the crooked neck that I realized now was bent to keep it from hitting the ceiling. A sob built behind my sternum, but my breathing was too ragged and uneven for it to escape. Instead, the tension built until I was sure my rib cage would burst open, until I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed into the tiny space between the toilet and the wall, until my nose started bleeding, until I clapped my hands over my ears in a vain attempt to keep out the buzzing tinnitus that cut through my brain.

I don’t know how long I stayed there, vomit on my shirt and tears on my face drying to a crust. I remained squeezed into the corner long after the sensations faded. Even once I managed to open my eyes and see the thing was gone, I stayed, curled into a tight ball.

Have you ever had a word stuck in your head? Like a song stuck in your head, but instead it’s just a word repeating in your mind? When I finally pulled my stiff body from its hiding place there was something rolling around inside my skull:

The basement.

I couldn’t push away the thought. Something about it was important but the memory was just out of reach. I shook my head and it throbbed.

The basement.

I remembered something Uncle George once told me over dinner. It had been cryptic and vague, so whatever sorted the files of my memory had pushed it into a corner.

“Coda,” he’d said, his fork clinking against the plate, “be careful when you’re underground.”

The light burned my eyes when I stepped out of the bathroom. I shut them, pressing my eyelids tight until tiny spots of light exploded behind them and drowned out the pain in my head.

“You’ll understand when you need to, I think,” Uncle George had continued. He was leaning back in his chair now, away from the table. “Our family has a strange history. I’ll teach you about it someday, when you need it, but for now your safety is my priority.”

Underground.

The basement.

I wished Uncle George could come back and explain, because it seemed like “when I need it” was right fucking now. Something warm dripped down my face to the corner of my mouth and I spat onto the floor. The cut on my face was bleeding again. I pulled my phone from my pocket, hands shaking, and typed a message to Leo.

“The basement”

I stumbled downstairs. My legs still shook, my head still throbbed, but I was steadier now. The stairs creaked as I descended to the basement. I hadn’t been down there in a couple weeks and it showed in the thin veil of dust over the stock boxes. I swallowed, my mouth foul and acidic, and pushed past them.

There was a tunnel. The flimsy basement wall had a gaping hole in it, wet and rough around the edges, that opened into a broad channel. The tunnel walls were packed dirt, the hole easily six feet across, and cold, stale air flowed from the opening. I stood silently for a moment, and in the quiet could hear something like open-mouthed chewing from deep in the earth. It filled me with dread.

Feet pounding down the basement steps snapped me back to awareness. I whirled, expecting to see the tall, broken figure again, and nearly collapsed in relief when I saw Leo’s gangly form instead. As soon as he saw me, he sprinted across the room and pulled me into a crushing hug.

“I’m sorry,” I said into his chest, though I wasn’t sure for what.

“It’s okay,” he replied. I pressed my cheek against his shirt. He boxed me in between his shoulders, squeezed a comforting pressure around my own.

“Don’t hug me,” I finally said as I untangled myself from him, newly conscious of the blood and vomit on my shirt, “I’m kind of gross.”

“Coda, what the fuck is goi-”

Something shook the basement walls. Leo, I realized, was clutching my hand so hard I could feel my fingers grinding together in his grip. I felt a thud in my chest, felt it vibrate through my bones and organs like I was standing next to a concert amp. It was all the resonant impact of music without the song itself to package it. Like a song turned inside-out, I thought.  

The not-noise redoubled and Leo’s grasp went slack, his body collapsing to the floor. My nose tickled and began bleeding again, my stomach churning. I was sure my insides were being twisted and liquefied by whatever invisible force shook the room. My whole body shook, but I remained standing.

Through the growing haze of grey static, I saw something pale and fleshy squirm through the tunnel. The sound without sound stopped for a moment and I watched the strange peristaltic motions of its advance.

It was massive, the tunnel’s diameter barely accommodating its segmented body. The skin, pink and fragile-looking, glistened in the dim basement lighting and made a wet sucking noise as it moved. The head was more mouth than anything else, hanging open to display wet rings of muscle and concentric rows of teeth. Tiny eyes, apparently blind, sat uselessly on either side. It sat there silently for a moment, head hanging out of its tunnel and swaying slowly back and forth.

Then I saw the muscles in its mouth ripple and flex, and a moment later felt the thump of noiseless bass in my chest. I doubled over, retching, and heard Leo move behind me. He’d gone still after collapsing but now writhed on the floor, face contorted in agony. I closed my eyes, held my breath, and stood up.

When I opened them, my vision was half static. Through the clear patches I saw copy after copy of my faceless stalker standing around us in a circle. The worm was moving, its body pouring out of the hole in the wall as it made its way towards Leo. I clenched my jaw and tried to push down the fear squirming in my gut.

This thing had killed my great-uncle. It was going to kill Leo. And then it was going to kill me.

I would not let that happen.

My thoughts were unstructured, nothing but rage, fear, and that single conviction. I would not let it take us. I wrenched a scream from deep in my gut, pushing the worm’s silent noise out of my body and mixing with it in the air. They made a buzzing harmony together that pierced cold and sharp through my head. The worm thrashed and gaped its mouth, screaming noiselessly back at me. I kept going, longer than I’d ever held my breath, louder and louder, and it felt like something popped in my throat but I kept going until my world finally went black and silent.

I came to on the basement floor. Everything in the room was covered in a layer of slime with the exception of a clean silhouette where the worm had been. Leo was leaning over me, gently slapping my cheek. I sat up and wiped goop out of my eyes.

“You’re awake,” he said. I coughed.

“I’m aware,” I rasped, “What happened?”

“I’m not sure,” he replied, “but you did something. I think you killed it.”

“Huh.” I tried to stand up, but my legs collapsed jelly-like under me and I fell back to a seated position. Leo snagged me under each arm and hauled me up.

“Careful, whatever you did really fucked you up. I-” he paused. I couldn’t read his expression--he’d turned away, and my eyelids were already drooping shut again. “I wasn’t sure if you were breathing at first. I thought you were dead.”

“Don’t worry, ‘m okay,” is the last thing I remember saying, voice slurred and hoarse, before I lost my grip on consciousness again.

It took me a week to recover. I found out later that most of the town reported mysterious headaches and nausea on the day I fought the worm. Some remembered sudden, inexplicable anxiety. Others complained of a ringing in their ears that faded as the week wore on. I never told anyone what happened. I wrote up some bullshit about being away on vacation and Leo hung it above the “Sorry, we’re closed!” sign for me.

I haven’t forgotten what Uncle George said about our family history. And while I’m certain he’s dead, I’m equally sure he would’ve recorded that information for me somewhere just in case. We’ve been looking through his old books, the ones I packed away after his disappearance, trying to confirm my hunch.

I think I inherited two jobs with this bookstore. I think I know why everyone wanted to keep it in the family. I think there are more of those creatures out there, chewing through the dirt and killing people with their song.

I think maybe I’m supposed to stop them.