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#deal with panic attacks quickly
thethingything · 8 days
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the thing is as well we're so dissociated and having so much trouble processing shit that we keep going "maybe it's not that bad and I'll be fine if I take a 2nd dose" while literally crying so hard we're struggling to breathe because of how much the side effects are fucking us up.
I need to decide whether to take this 2nd dose but it feels like whatever we do we're fucked because I don't wanna not take it and then end up causing more problems with the stuff it's meant to treat and I get the feeling the side effects are gonna last at least the rest of the night whether we take it or not but then I don't know if taking multiple doses and then stopping the course is worse than taking one dose and not taking the rest and I can't fucking ask for medical advice because it's 11pm
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be-good-to-bugs · 18 days
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today has been horrible BUT buttercup finally ate something after like a month of refusing to eat so thats a relief
#the bin#that soujds bad if u dont know much about ball pythons but sometimes theyre just like that#unfortunately theres a lotbof vibrations and sounds in my apartment. like. a whole lot. not haloed by the fact my room is right across from#the pool area. specifically the shower. so i gotta deal with that noise a lot. and her tank is reeal close bc there is nowhere else for it#a lot of pall puthons really hate foot steps and vibrations and stuff. she esp hates them. the fact my upstairs neigbors stomp around#constantly and it mskes my floor shake im sure also stresses her out. im hoping she will be less stressed after moving since she wont have#to deal with that so much.#its been constantly stressing me out tho. and shes been pretty aggressive which makes sense. i havent been able to hold her bc she bites me#she never used to bite and i think she will go back to how she used to be. thats usually what ive heard when they arent eating but once they#start eating again they go back to being friendly. im so glad bc mann ive been having so many panic attacks worried that she might die#i knowbthat they often do go long periods without eating. its best for them not to but thats just how they are sometimes#but god. lady u gotta stop stressing me like this or IM gonna die of a heart attack or smth#i wish she woulda ate more but oh well. she always has trouble eating stuff bc shes kinda stupid and tries to eta the mice sideways#then theres baby who eat them so quickly and then asks for more and wont leave me alone about it. she so communicative its wild#at least i dont gittabstress abt wondering if she died or amth bc she pokes her hwad out to look at me all the time#shes so cute and perfect. they both are. god i love snakes
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foldingfittedsheets · 18 days
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The location of the sex shop I worked was a haven for spiders. We had tall ceilings and skylights and unused storage rooms. It was a spider paradise. We quickly sussed out which coworkers to call on in case of emergency. The Dorito lady was a solid ally for spiders but absolutely petrified of moths.
But there’s actually a hierarchy of fear. Most people don’t realize. The person least afraid is the one forced to deal with the bug in question. If coworker B was scared, but coworker A was petrified, well coworker B was gonna have to screw their courage to the sticking place because by the law of fear they were the most competent person on scene.
Thus enters Rick. Rick first appeared in the back storage room. This room doubled as a second bathroom so we went in on a semi frequent basis. The girl who’d gone in to pee shot out again gibbering with fear about the biggest spider she’d ever seen had just run across her boot.
We sicced Dorito lady on it. She returned, shaking her head. “He was squatting on a power cord where it plugs in. I couldn’t get a clean shot at Rick.”
“Rick?”
She shrugged. “Spiders that big need a name. Seemed like a Rick.”
Rick, freshly named, became a store menace. I’d normally say this was probably a case of multiple spiders being mistaken for one but everyone who encountered him swore up and down there could be no mistake. This spider was massive, fast, and distinct. A gladiator among arachnids.
I never encountered Rick. His exploits grew in the telling but the theme was consistent: no one could kill him. He’d hunker in places that no one could reach and dart away when a strike missed. He also chased off the more faint hearted, charging them in bold dashes. There could be no benign cup transplant to remove Rick from the premise. He was not leaving.
The saga of Rick continued for two months. Not seeing him was almost worse, a fearful wariness when going to the bathroom or stepping into quieter areas. I waited with dread, hoping my eventual run in would have me on shift with Dorito lady to protect me.
It was not to be. There was a girl the same who hated my one moment of singing that was absolute piss-herself scared of spiders. She’d slam straight into a panic attack and couldn’t think or speak. And so it was that one night on shift, I heard her scream.
It was unmistakable. I was in the front window turning off the open sign. Through an obstacle course of mannequins and lingerie I performed an acrobatic sprint out of the window, darting up to find her quivering at the front counter, fully crying. I radiated calm at her and said, “Just point.”
I knew it was Rick. Our destinies were intertwined and we had always been pulled toward the inexorable battle that was drawing nigh.
Her hand raised to point to our sandwich board sign at the front of the store. So Rick had the metaphorical high ground. There was no quick easy strike on the slanted signs surface.
I armed myself and marched into battle, my knuckles white on my chosen weapon. I would do this, because I must. Because there was no one else. And because I wanted to close and go home.
I saw Rick immediately and I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen a bigger spider since. Outside of a tarantula, he was truly the most massive spider I’ve ever beheld outside a zoo enclosure or terrarium.
We regarded each other. Rick launched off the sign toward me and I stomped my foot reflexively, making him pause in his charge. Then I raised my weapon. Anything else, I believe Rick could have evaded. He’d bested most of the store thus far. But I had chosen chemical warfare.
I doused the shit out of that spider with cleaning spray, stunning him with a barrage of chemicals. While he froze, choking on the unexpected deluge, I dropped a paper towel over him. My foot came down.
I felt his exoskeleton crunch and I can feel it still to this day. The shattering was as of bones and I truly mourned that we had been forced into senseless war. If only he has cleaved tighter to the shadows. If only he’d crawled willing into a cup for relocation. I released a full body shudder of horror, fear, and adrenaline as I stepped back.
I took several quivering breaths. I donned a veneer of calm and tidied the battlefield of it’s corpse then went to reassure my coworker that all was well, while internally I still shook.
You fought well, Rick. I hope you sired many more monstrous children to haunt retail workers in the years to come. Rest in valor, you monster.
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Alright, can we take a second to clarify what a binge is?
As someone with BED I'm so sick of seeing "oopsie doopsie I'm so fat, I binged on 3 slices of bread uwu" because it diminishes the struggles of people who ACTUALLY deal with binge-eating. And yes, I'm 100% gatekeeping, this shit is getting so out of hand.
Let's look at the definition of a binge:
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Notice the keyword in all of these definitions: EXCESSIVE
A binge is not
Eating a normal sized meal and regretting it
Going past your calorie limit for the day
Just eating quickly
Eating until you're full (or just a little past)
"Oh nooo, I had 2 apples in 1 sitting, I binged so hard 🥺👉👈"
It's really fucking damaging to a lot of people when you try to make binge-eating look dainty and quirky.
I have functional control over my binges now so they are nowhere as bad as they used to be, but they were horrifying in the past. My binges entailed panic and a total lack of control. I've been in the midst of a panic attack while stuffing my face more than once. I've had many blackout binges in my life where I can't even recall having binged, but the evidence is all right in front of me. I've woken up with a bruised stomach lining, making it excruciating to even sit up for days. I've gotten lightheaded from eating so much and so fast that I'm not taking enough time to breathe. I've thrown up blood, bile, and acid after binges before. I've eaten so much that I've had to throw up, not in a purging way, but because the food physically isn't fitting in my fucking stomach. I'm so lucky I never ruptured my stomach, I honestly don't know how I didnt. But despite everything, no matter what, I would be right back to eating in as little as an hour. It's a vicious fucking cycle.
It's. not. fucking. cute.
You will KNOW when you have binged. Sure, it can look very different for different people, but the fact remains that there is a MASSIVE fucking difference between an actual binge and just eating a lot. Binges are often the result of an emotional AND physiological impulse, not just emotional eating.
Please just be more considerate with your wording the next time you go to tell everyone that your life is over because you ate a fucking granola bar.
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planetaryupscaled · 1 month
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Honeymoon 2: Afterday
Male Reader x Yunjin x Somi
Tags: 6k, anal, creampie, food play, gxg, oral, threesome
The story is not ours; we simply alter the original story to our preferred settings
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I laid in bed with thoughts of the previous night dancing in my head. The image of Somi’s face screaming out in bliss as she came played on repeat in my mind. I was in a very peaceful and erotic sleep when all of a sudden, I was awoken by the feeling of someone jumping on top of me.
“Babe, wake up!” I heard Yunjin yell. I slowly opened my eyes to see a smiling Yunjin looking down on me. “Morning!”
“What time is it?” I asked still groggy and tired from the previous day.
“Just after eleven. You missed breakfast.” Yunjin stayed straddling my lap over the sheets. She was dressed in just a pair of loose shorts and a tank top.
“Sorry about that, hope you didn’t mind eating alone,” I told her as I closed my eyes and rubbed my hand back and forth along her bare leg.
“I wasn’t alone, I ran into Somi down there and ate with her.” That snapped me out of my morning haze.
“Somi?”
“Yeah, I saw here entering the dining area when I was at the omelet bar, so we sat together. She was telling me about this secret nude beach the hotel has up the road. I told her we’d go with her today.” I tried to hide the mini panic attack I was having at this news. I had no clue what Somi was up to. Did she just enjoying toying with me in front of Yunjin, or was she out to destroy my relationship? I didn’t know how I’d be able to control myself around Somi at a nude beach since in the last 24 hours she’d already gotten me to cheat on my new wife twice.
“Really? I was thinking we could just relax in the room today. You know, take a bath together in the tub. Maybe do that thing we were walking about with the whipped cream and chocolate sauce,” I then moved her off me. “Though first I think maybe we should do something about this.” I lifted off the sheet and exposed my dick to the sunlight.
“Maybe I should leave you two alone to take care of that,” another woman said, “Unless you want some help.” Looking to the doorway, there was Somi leaning against the doorframe smiling while looking at me and Yunjin on the bed. She was dressed in a bikini top, a sarong, and flip flops.
“Oh shit!” I said in surprise and quickly pulled the bed sheet back up to hide my nakedness.
“Yeah, I probably should have mentioned that I invited her up with me,” Yunjin laughed at my shock.
“It’s not that big a deal Minho, I was going to see it anyway at the nude beach,” Somi chuckled and gave me a wicked grin. “How about I just meet you guys downstairs in an hour?”
“Sounds good,” Yunjin agreed.
“Okay. Bye, Minho. Or should I say, big dick Minho.” Somi giggled before turning and leaving.
“I think she likes you,” Yunjin said before leaning down and began kissing the side of my face and neck.
“Yunjin are you sure about this whole nude beach thing? And going with her? Wouldn’t it be better if we just stayed here together?”
“Come on, I really want to go. Somi made it sound like fun and it’s totally private. Her company sent her and the rest of the staff here before her next tour, and a bunch of them went, and no photos of any of them or anything ever came out. I can’t even imagine that kind of freedom.” Yunjin continued to kiss her way down my body. “How about you think it over, and while you do that, I take care of you?”
She removed the bed sheet and slipped off her shorts. Quickly she was back to straddling my lap this time there was nothing between our privates. Yunjin rubbed her lips up and down along my shaft which was pressed up against my stomach before raising up and lowering herself down onto my cock. It felt amazing having Yunjin ride me again but as I watched her, my mind was also flashing back to last night and the prospect of watching Somi run naked through the ocean waves.
“I love you,” Yunjin told me as she leaned over me
“I love you too,” I told her and we kissed. I closed my eyes as I felt her tongue slid into my mouth. We made out tenderly. However, with my eyes closed, I was now picturing a wet naked Somi emerging from the water and jogging in slow motion towards me.
“God Som… you feel amazing,” I said as we broke off our kiss, almost saying Somi’s name by mistake. I spun us over so Yunjin was on her back and we fucked in missionary position. We kept humping one another, Yunjin wrapped her arms and legs around me. She made me keep eye contact with her until she finally came on my cock. Watching her beautiful face contort as she came set me off. I quickly pulled out just before I came. Splashing her pussy lips with my cum.
Yunjin reminded me that we needed to get ready to meet Somi down in the lobby. I took a quick shower and threw on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. Yunjin was dressed similarly to the way Somi was earlier, with a bikini, a sarong, and sandals. She grabbed her beach bag with our towels and stuff as we headed out.
“Are you sure about this?” I asked Yunjin as we rode down the elevator.
“Yes, I’ve never been to a nude beach before. I always had to worry about paparazzi showing up or someone else taking pictures. Why are you not more excited about this? You’re about to spend an afternoon on a tropical beach with a naked me and Somi. I’m pretty sure there are millions of men out there who would literally kill to be in your place.” Yeah, she was right. I needed to relax and somewhat enjoy today. Or at least pretend to, so I didn’t make Yunjin suspicious of anything.
“Yeah I know, I just wanted to make sure you’re cool with this.” The elevator doors then open and we stepped out. Somi was in the lobby dressed the same as before, only now she had a big bag similar to Yunjin’s as well. Somi already had a car waiting outside to take us to the private cove where the beach is. The ride was only about 5 minutes before we were let off at dirt lot that was surrounded by trees. Yunjin and I followed Somi as we walked on a path between the trees that led to a set of stairs that which went down to the beach of the secluded cove. Somi had said that this nude beach was pretty private, and she was right. The place was still on resort property, the opening to the cove was roped off so boats and jet skis could not come in, and unless you were with someone who knew where the beach was it was doubtful anyone would ever find it. As we walked down the stairs, I could see a couple dozen people were also at the beach. A number of which seemed to be couples of various ages, there was a group of 7 or 10 college-age girls and several guys who seemed to be alone and just there to check out the women.
As we got down to the beach, Somi and Yunjin went to find us a clear spot while I went over to where they were renting out beach chairs and got one for myself. As I walked back over, I noticed some of the single men watching Yunjin and Somi lay out their beach towels. After I put my chair down in the sand, I tossed my phone and wallet into a beach bag and took off my shirt.
“Wow, somebody got kind of kinky last night,” Somi said, referring to the hickies Yunjin had made on my neck and collar bone. Though at least two of them had been made by Somi herself.
“Yeah, I guess I got a little carried away last night,” Yunjin said.
“You don’t remember doing it?” Somi asked while taking off her top and exposing her breasts.
“No, I was pretty drunk by the end of the night,” Yunjin replied. She then looked around and took a deep breath before taking off her top as well. The two women then dropped their sarongs and bikini bottoms and stood totally naked on the beach except for their sunglasses. “Alright Minho, your turn.”
I grabbed the waistband of my shorts and got ready to push them down, but right as I was about to drop them, I watched as Somi spun around and bent over to get something out of her bag. Of course, she kept her legs perfectly straight as she bent over giving me a great view of her ass and her pussy peeking out underneath. As I pushed my shorts down, I prayed for God to give me the strength not to break down and fuck Somi right here on the beach. When she finally stood up, she had a bottle of sunscreen in her hands. I couldn’t help myself from getting rock hard as I watched Yunjin and Somi rubbed their bodies down with the lotion.
“Stop staring and put on some sunscreen,” Yunjin said while throwing the bottle at me.
“And remember at a certain point you’re no longer applying lotion, you’re just playing with yourself,” Somi teased as Yunjin started applying sunscreen to her back. I laughed, though when it did come time to put lotion on my crotch, I could not help but give my meat a couple of extra strokes.
Over the next two hours, the three of us enjoyed ourselves and the beach. The girls sunned themselves on the beach and I tried to do some reading, though could not help but check out the two ladies. I found myself sitting in my chair comparing the two women’s bodies.
Both had dark areolas, but while Yunjin’s nipples were nubs, Somi’s were more like pencil erasers that stuck out. Both had completely shaved their pussies, Yunjin’s was a total innie, while Somi had slightly longer inner lips that stuck out a bit. Somi had a nicer ass and toner legs. As much of a distraction as they were on the beach, in the water they were not better. Yunjin and I made out some and fondled me, but we also played around with Somi a bit. Just the usual kind of horseplay with dunking one another under the water and me tossing the girls a bit. This led to some purposeful groping by Yunjin and some “accidental” touching by Somi. Somi and Yunjin had fair share of guys checking them out and I saw the group of college girls look me over, though no one thought anything of our touching. Somi told us that that kind of stuff was not a big deal. She’d seen far worse at the beach and then pointed to a couple at the far end of the beach who were clearly fucking on a beach chair.
“That kind of thing happens here all the time. I don’t see him here today but there is a local bartender guy at the resort’s dance club. I swear his cock has to be a foot long and all he does during the day is hang out here hoping to bang with one or more girls who are on vacation. He’d be all that group over there,” Somi told us while pointing at the group of college girls as we stood in waist high water. “I remember coming down here for a sunrise yoga session, by the way, Yunjin they do naked yoga here at sunrise every day and you should total try and do it before you leave.”
“Okay, that sounds great.”
“Anyway, I just remember leaving when it was over one morning and watching him just plow two girls on the picnic table over there. When he came it was like a super soaker went off.”
“You and him ever hook up?” I asked.
“No. He’s got a big dick and all but he’s kind of an asshole. He tried hitting on me once, but literally, all he did was walk up to me, shake his dick in my face and ask if I was interested. When I said no, he just walked on to the next attractive girl,” Somi told us. “I’m thirsty, you guys want anything?” Yunjin and I both asked for her to get us water. She then sauntered out of the water, giving an extra wiggle to her ass as she walked. I turned to Yunjin and she wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a kiss. I kissed her back and moved us back into deeper waters.
“You having a good time?” I asked her.
“Yes,” She gave me another kiss and wrapped her legs around me. Her sex now pressing right up against my erection. I let out a groan as felt her press harder up against me. All the teasing and spending time around these two naked beauties had me hard almost the entire time and it was starting to take its toll on me. “I told Somi to stop her teasing. I can tell it starting to get to you.”
“Thank you, but you know I love you, right?”
“Of course I know that. But you’re only human. If she keeps accidentally rubbing her ass against you and bending over in front of you, I almost wouldn’t blame you if you snap and jam that big dick of yours into her. God knows she’s been asking for it.” Yunjin didn’t know the half of it. While she may have seen some of the touching Somi had done under the water, what she had not seen was earlier when she went to the bathroom Somi basically pounced on my dick and deepthroated me for a blissful two minutes. She sucked my cock hungrily but made sure to stop before she had to worry Yunjin seeing us and before I could have a chance to cum.
“Please, this dick is only for you,” I told my wife and then used my hand to take aim and thrust into her under the water. Yunjin bit her lip to muffle her moan as I pushed my full length between her folds. The two of us just stayed in the ocean like that, with my dick soaking inside her as we kissed and talked lovingly to one another. I gave a few slow and gentle thrust but mostly I just let my cock soak in her pussy as to not draw attention to ourselves. I don’t know how long it would have taken for me to cum from doing that, but I was not given the chance to find out as we were interrupted by Somi yelling at us from the water’s edge that she got us some food. We begrudgingly decoupled and walked back to our beach towels to join Somi for a mid-afternoon snack.
After we ate the girls went back to sunning themselves and I hopped back into my chair and tried to get some reading done. I was finally starting to actually concentrate on my book when I noticed Somi moving around. She had sat up on her elbows and now had her chest up thrusted into the air as she tilted her head all the way back to look at me sitting behind her.
“So… does that thing ever go down?” Somi asked referring to my ever-hard dick.
“I’m hanging out with a pair of the most beautiful women in the world, both of whom are naked, and I haven’t been able to get off. The fact that my dick hasn’t exploded is a borderline miracle,” I half-joked.
“Yeah, I’m going to have to take care of him as soon as we get back to the hotel. I’m starting to feel like we’re torturing him,” Yunjin added
“Why don’t you just take care of him now?” Somi asked.
“What?” Both of us said.
“I told you before, people have sex out here all the time. So just go on and blow him. The poor guy needs it badly,” Somi encouraged her.
“Are you sure?” Yunjin asked. I was going to say she didn’t have to, but it would be really hot to do it, and I was super fucking horny. Yunjin rolled onto her stomach and crawled over to me. With her now on her knees in front of me, she looked up at me and asked, “Do you think I should?”
“I... I can’t answer that. You can’t really expect me to answer whether or not I think you should give me a blow job.” Yunjin looked around to see if anyone was watching, and then started to lean down and go for it.
“Yes, yes,” Somi said excitedly as she got up on her knees and got moved closer to get a good view as Yunjin stuck out her tongue and began licking the head of my cock.
“Kind of salty,” Yunjin said before opening her mouth wide and started going down on my dick. God, her mouth felt amazing. I could not help myself from putting my hand on the back of her head and pushing her head down on my dick.
Normally, I was not the kind of guy who would take hold of Yunjin’s hair and move her head up and down, but I was so desperate to get off I could not help it. Yunjin just put her hands on my thighs and let me bounce her face up and down on my cock.
“Umm yeah, make her suck that big cock.” Somi encouraged me. Looking over to her, Somi was watching us closely, but also sat back on her knees far enough that I could see her fingering herself as she watched. “Fuck that beautiful face.”
“Oh god, Yunjin, your mouth feels so fantastic. I can’t wait to cum, and then get you back to the hotel and just pound that pussy of yours up against the wall,” I told Yunjin as I continued to bounce her head up and down my pole.
“Do it. Cum in her mouth.” Somi moaned while she had on hand work her cunt and another playing with her nipple. “Cum in her mouth, and Yunjin, when he does, don’t swallow. Just collect it in your mouth and then show it to me. I want to see your mouth full of his juice.”
“Oh god,” I moaned. I was close to cumming. My eyes darted back and forth between Yunjin sucking me off and Somi playing with herself. “Shit, uggghhhh,” I grunted as I came, locking eyes with Somi as I came in Yunjin’s mouth. Just like she asked, Yunjin collected as much of my cum in her mouth as she could, though some ran out of the corner of her mouth. Yunjin turned to Somi and opened her mouth to show her my jizz in her mouth. Then something happened that shocked both me and Yunjin. As she opened her mouth, Somi pounced on her. She quickly wrapped her hands around Yunjin and pulled her in for a big open mouth kiss. I watched her shove her tongue into Yunjin’s mouth and saw as the two ladies shared a forceful kiss with my cum passing back and forth between their mouths, some of it ran out of the mouths and down their bodies. Watching this made my dick even harder than it was before the blow job.
Somi eventually let go of Yunjin’s face and she backed off a bit. Yunjin looked completely stunned by what just happened and had no reaction as Somi then sucked off some of the cum that had dribbled down Yunjin’s chest. It was so hot to watch, had I not been so shocked I would have pushed one of them over and started fucking them. It didn’t matter which one.
After that whole display, we all agreed it was time to get back to the hotel. We got dressed quickly, Yunjin called for a car as we walked back up to the parking lot. I was planning on getting in the backseat with Yunjin and Somi for the ride back to the hotel until a Toyota Yaris pulled up to drive us back to the hotel and I was forced to sit in the front passenger seat. Despite being a short ride, it felt like forever. I was dead serious about wanting to fuck Yunjin up against the wall as soon as we got back to the hotel. Behind me, I could hear Yunjin and Somi whispering back and forth and a sudden gasp from Yunjin.
When we got back to the hotel, I took Yunjin’s hand and speed walked through the lobby to get to the elevator. I did not even realize Somi was still with us until we were on the elevator. When the elevator got to our floor, I pulled Yunjin off and we both yelled goodbye to Somi. The two of us practically sprinted to our room.
“Where is your key?” Yunjin asked as we approached the door.
“It’s in my wallet, I threw it into your bag earlier,” I told her. Yunjin dug through her bag as we stood in front of the door.
“I don’t see it, but I found my key,” she said as she pulled it out of her bag and stuck the keycard into the door. She opened the door and I pushed her in. Letting the door close behind us I grabbed her bag and tossed it into the room.
“Remember what I said on the beach about fucking you against the wall?”
“Yeah,” Yunjin replied wrapping her arms around my neck, knowing what was about to happen. I pushed my shorts to the ground and then picked up Yunjin. She wrapped her legs around me and I pulled her bathing suit to the side. We kissed hungrily with open mouths as I pushed her against the wall and jammed my cock into her cunt. I pounded her hard against the wall. Neither of us were saying anything other than moans and grunts as we fucked hard against the wall. At one point my leg buckled a bit but that did not stop us. Yunjin dug her fingers into my back as I regained my balance and I swung her over so that we were no longer banging up against the wall, but instead were up against the hotel door. I could only imagine what the banging and moaning against the door must sound like to people walking in the hallway.
“God babe, your pussy is so fucking wet. You must have really gotten off on giving the blowjob on the beach.”
“Yeah. It was so hot. I couldn’t believe I actually did that. It was so sexy. And then the kiss with Somi afterwards and her fingering me in the car. It was incredible.”
“She fingered you in the car?”
“Yeah. We were talking about the beach. She asked if I got turned on by what happened, and before I could answer she pushed two fingers into me.”
“Holy fuck, that’s so hot. I can’t get that image out of my mind. I’m going to cum soon.”
“Do it babe. Cum for me. I want to feel you cum inside me.”
I kept pounding her cunt until my dick burst inside her. Even though I had just cum less than an hour ago, my cock still erupted with the force and volume as though I hadn’t touched myself in a month. Yunjin came as I continued to cum in her.
After we were done fucking, we retreated to the shower to rinse the sand, salt water, sweat, and in Yunjin’s case, semen, off of each other. Once we were clean Yunjin went to take a nap and I ordered something special to be brought up to the room later tonight before joining her in bed.
I slept for a good two hours and when I woke, I was happy that Yunjin was still asleep so I could set up. I quietly went and pulled out a hidden bag with candles in it. I set them up around the living room and opened the door when room service showed up. They wheeled in a small chocolate fountain, with a bunch of strawberries, a couple of cans of whipped cream, and four bottles of champagne.
When the room was all set up, I went back to the bedroom and woke Yunjin up. She smiled happily as I told her I had a surprise for her. She went to go put some clothes on but I told her she would not need any.
“Oh my God babe, this looks amazing!” she said as she saw what I did with the living room. She gave me a kiss before running over to the chocolate fountain. She dipped a strawberry into the fountain and ate it. “Oh wow, that’s really good,” she said, “Ummm, this is all really sweet and all, but I am starving and I don’t think chocolate covered strawberries are going to be enough.”
“I was the same way earlier, there’s pizza under the skirt of the fountain table.”
“Awesome.” I watched her ass as she bent over in front of me and pulled out the pizza. The two of us ate and drank champagne naked on the couch in a candlelit room. Once the pizza was gone, we moved on to dessert. We started dipping strawberries in chocolate and spraying whipped cream into each other mouths. We were also now on our second bottle of champagne. Of course, the alcohol also led to us dripping some whipped cream and chocolate sauce on to one another, which led to us licking those drips off one another. 20 minutes later we finished off the second bottle, and I had Yunjin laying on her back with chocolate sauce dripped all over her tits and nipples, and whipped cream sprayed all over her pussy. She was moaning I went down on all fours to lick her clean.
I had her breast licked clean and now had legs up in the air as I cleaned her body of whipped cream. We were both totally focused on one another to the point that neither of us heard when our hotel room door opened and closed.
“Oh wow, this looks really romantic.” I didn’t have to turn around to know who was standing behind me.
“Somi you’re here,” Yunjin said as I stopped eating her out and dropped her butt back to the floor. Turning my head I saw Somi standing in the doorway in a romper that had a zipper going down from the collar to the crotch. “Wait, why are you here?”
“Your man left his phone and wallet in my bag so I just wanted to bring it back.” She held them both up and tossed them to me as she walked over the fountain.
“Is that all?”
“Umm-hmm.” She said as she ate a strawberry.
“Oh please,” Yunjin said with her speech slightly slurred from the champagne. She stood up and walked over to Somi. “Just admit that you want to have sex with my husband, or me, or me and my husband, or whatever.” Yunjin dipped her fingers into the chocolate and then took them and pressed them into Somi’s mouth.
“Just admit you came down here looking to have sex,” Somi responded by nodding and sucking Yunjin’s fingers clean. Once she had sucked all the chocolate off of them, she pulled Yunjin’s fingers from her mouth and pulled in Yunjin for a kiss. Unlike the beach, this time it was much softer.
I watched as the two women made out. Somi grabbed a can of whipped cream and sprayed both of Yunjin’s nipples, then bent down and licked the cream off. Once Yunjin’s breast was clean, Somi repeated the act again. Yunjin reached for the zipper to Somi’s romper and slowly pulled it down. Once the zipper was down far enough, Somi shrugged the top of the romper off, and it hung at her waist. Yunjin then dipped a strawberry in chocolate and began painting Somi’s chest with it. I watched as my wife began licking chocolate off the tits of the woman I had cheated on her with the night before. Once she had licked her clean, Yunjin turned to me and waved me over. As I made my way over to her Yunjin, she gave me a kiss.
“Fuck her good,” she whispered into my ear.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“I know you love me. This is just sex. She’s been teasing you and asking for it all day. Now give it to her.”
I turned my attention to Somi. Unlike yesterday or earlier today where she had been giving me dirty sexy looks, Somi now stood topless in my hotel room with an innocent look on her face. I knew this was just for show. I took one step forward and she lunged towards me. We made out passionately and I shoved her romper down to the floor, leaving all three of us totally nude.
“Fuck me hard. I want you to pound the fuck out of me in front of your wife,” Somi said before jumping up and wrapping her legs around me. I spun her around and sat her down on the cart with the chocolate fountain. Somi let out a loud moan as I pushed my dick into her. Yunjin moved behind me and pressed her tits into my back as I began pumping Somi’s cunt.
“How does it feel? Do you like how my husband fucks you?”
“Yes! It feels incredible. I love his dick. We should have just done this on the beach,” Somi moaned. Somi leaned back and tried to bring my mouth down to her nipples, but as she leaned back, she knocked over the fountain causing the chocolate to spread and puddle over the floor. We all stopped and looked at the mess we made on the wood floors. It gave us all pause, but there was nothing we could do about it now and we were all so drunk on lust it really didn’t matter. I reached down and picked up another bottle of champagne. Shook it a bit and after the cork went flying the liquid shot up and sprayed over Somi’s body. Just like last night, I willing began lapping up the champagne off of the body of the blondie in front of me. This time however I was fucking Somi and I was sucking the liquid off her breast and occasionally giving her nips a bit of a bite. Yunjin continued to press her tits into my back as she alternated between kissing my neck, nibbling on my earlobes, and whispering words of encouragement as I fucked our new friend. The whole situation was the thing that dreams are made of.
I was getting close to cumming, but I didn’t want to give my load to Somi. Or at least I didn’t want to give her this load. Picking Somi off the table, I dropped her down on the floor in the middle of the spilled chocolate sauce. Once she was laid down in the chocolate, I dipped my hand into the spilled sauce and then smeared the chocolate onto her crotch. I then took a can of whipped cream, put the tip into Somi’s cunt and gave her a spray. Somi gave an “oh” as she felt the spritz of cool foam sprayed into her.
“Yunjin, why don’t you eat out your friend.”
“She does look tasty,” Yunjin replied. Yunjin got down on her knees and elbows in front of me, and as she began eating the cream out of Somi’s wet pussy, I moved into place behind Yunjin. I gave her ass a hard slap before taking hold of her hips and I plunged into her and began fucking her hard. The three of us stayed like this for a while. Somi on her back getting eaten out by Yunjin, who was on her knees and elbows getting fucked doggy style by me, all the while we were all in the middle of a large puddle of spilled chocolate sauce. As we fucked eventually there was a chain reaction orgasms. Yunjin was first as she came on my dick and moaned loudly into Somi’s love tunnel which caused her to cum, and the combination of feeling Yunjin cum and watching Somi’s “O” face pushed me over the edge and I erupted inside my wife once again. After we all finished cumming, I rolled Yunjin onto her back and picked the can of whipped cream back up.
“Somi, don’t you think you should repay Yunjin?” Somi didn’t say anything, she simply smiled broadly and rolled onto her knees. As Somi began eating her ass, I sprayed Yunjin’s tits with some whipped cream and began eating it off of her. The two of us doubled teamed Yunjin’s body, I would kiss and play with Yunjin's tits while Somi ate her pussy. A few times Somi went a little further, lifting her butt up and licking her chocolate covered ass. At one point even sticking her finger into her ass while she sucked on her clit. We did not stop our attack on her body until we gave Yunjin a powerful orgasm that made her body shake. The time off from fucking had given my dick a break and now I was back to full mass and ready to give Somi a pounding.
Getting behind her I pushed Somi’s back down so that her ass suck up more. Her ass was covered in chocolate sauce from laying in it earlier. I could not help myself from giving her ass a few licks, before taking hold of her hips and pushing my dick into her. Somi happily pushed her ass back towards me, making sure I was fully into her. Somi and I just pounded each other. The entire hotel room filled with the sound of our grunts, moans, and skin slapping both from me jackhammering her pussy and from me actually slapping her ass which I knew from last night she loved.
While this was going on Yunjin merely sat back and watched as I fucked her friend. At one point she came over to me and kissed me. I reached out and took some whipped cream and sprayed it on Somi’s ass. Then just like I did with her pussy earlier, I pushed the tip of the can into her ass and gave it a spray.
“Lick her ass,” I told Yunjin. She looked at me hesitantly at first then gave me a kiss before turning her attention to Somi. Yunjin began eating Somi’s ass while I continued to pummel her pussy. Somi loudly yelled out as she came hard on my dick. After she came, and the whipped cream was all gone I told Yunjin to back off. Taking what was left in a bottle of champagne I dumped it over Somi’s ass, making sure it was nice and wet before I took my dick out of her pussy and slammed it into her ass. Somi quickly had another orgasm as I fucked her ass.
“I wish I was recording this” Yunjin said as she masturbated while watching me fuck Somi’s ass.
“Me too,” Somi grunted, “I wish I had a video of tonight for when I am alone on the road.” Somi had me stop temporarily, but it was just so that I could roll onto my back and she could ride my dick reverse cowgirl. I watched as my meat slid in and out of her backdoor as she bounced on my rod. I could feel her fingers occasionally brush against my balls as she was obviously rubbing her clit as we fucked. It took a good minutes before I finally came. Blowing my load all up into her ass.
After I came, I thought I was done but apparently, the women were not done with me. I was pushed onto my back as Yunjin used her hand so smear some of the excess chocolate sauce that was still on the floor onto my dick and Somi took a whipped cream can and sprayed my crotch until the can was empty. The two women then went to town on me. They used their tongues to clean the chocolate and cream off of me, while they were also doing their best to stir my cock back to life. At first, the two of them seemed to be fighting and pushing for position, but after two minutes they found a rhythm and seemed to be working in connection with one another. Once the sauce & cream were gone, the two women worked in perfect harmony with each running their lips up and down the side of my cock simultaneously. Had I not known better I would have thought that this was not the first time Yunjin and Somi had been in a threesome together. They had my dick more than back up to full strength.
Yunjin then bump Somi out of the way and got in position. Swinging her leg over my lap, she sank down on my cock and began riding me. As Yunjin bounced on my dick, Somi pulled Yunjin face towards her and the two women kissed. Yunjin rode me hard for a good two minutes before Somi pushed her off of me and took her place. Somi worked her hips even harder and faster than Yunjin dead. Instead of staying at her side, like the way Somi did before, Yunjin moved back and straddled my face. She dropped her pussy down on my face and giving me no other option but to eat her out. After another couple of minutes, the girls switched positions again. This went on back and forth several more times. One woman would ride my cock while the other would ride my face. Occasionally they two women would make out, or grope each other, or suck on each other's tits.
“Oh god, I can’t hold back much longer,” I said as Somi got off of my face. Yunjin had already cum twice and Somi once from our current position. Knowing I would be spent after this next orgasm I tried to hold it off as long as I could, but couldn’t anymore.
“On her face,” Yunjin said as she rolled off me, “I want you to cum on her face.” Yunjin pulled me up to my knees, and Somi laid down in front of me. My cock hung over the top of Somi’s forehead, and Yunjin took hold of me with one of her hand. She began to stroke me, and Somi smiled brightly as she looked up at the handjob happening above her face. It took less than a minute for me to cumming. Somi giggled as my cum rained down on her pretty face.
When it was over, we were all exhausted. We were also filthy. Covered and chocolate sauce, dried whipped cream, sweat, and other bodily fluids from one another. We didn’t even bother to fool around in the shower as the three of us rinsed our bodies clean before going to bed. That night I slept peacefully with Somi and Yunjin cuddling on either side of me. The next morning I awoke as I felt movement on the bed. I opened my eyes but it was still dark outside.
“What’s happening?” I asked.
“We’re going to go do that morning yoga Somi mention, but you can go back to sleep,” Yunjin answered.
“Okay.” Yunjin gave me a kiss before climbing back off the bed.
“Yeah, you better get some more sleep, you’re going to need all your energy for later,” I heard Somi say before the girls left and I tried to go back to sleep. Reflecting on the past couple of days I found myself wondering if this some long coma dream or maybe I had died and this was heaven. This was all too amazing to be real. Either way, it didn’t matter and I was going to make the most of my current situation for however long it lasts.
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Dehya + Arlecchino Forgotten!Creator AU
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A proper response to @ninjacomix sorry for the wait!
Dehya
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You woke up in the deserts of Sumeru when you first arrived in Teyvat, so it’s no surprise that the first people you met were Eremites 
Unlike the Traveler, you are not immediately attacked- half because of your divinity subtly making them more docile, and half because you’re covered in sand and dressed in foreign clothes and practically melting under the sun- and yeah, you look too pathetic to rob
They end up taking you back to Aaru Village, and that’s where you end up meeting Dehya.
Well, technically you meet Dehya the day after you arrive, when you rush outside during a sandstorm and spot her fighting monsters
It’s a bit surreal, watching an actual fight like this, and you’re frozen in awe
At least until you notice the Rifthound sneaking up on her
You’re panicking as you lunge forward, feeling something begin to expand inside you, and-
Everything is still
Both the storm and the Rifthounds are frozen in place, and Dehya is looking at you, extremely confused
“What is this?!?” “HOW SHOULD I KNOW?!?!” “YOU’RE THE ONE DOING IT!!!!”
Dehya dispatches the Rifthounds quickly, and the sandstorm resumes
And the next day, the both of you set out towards the Akademiya, wanting to figure out what your deal is
(You don’t realize that now the gods are remembering the creator, the Akademiya is Scrambling to find any and all information on you and why they forgot you)
During the journey the both of you grow close, and a few weeks in, the both of you wrapped in a blanket to protect from the chill of a desert night, you turn to her.
“Hey, let’s get married.”
And after choking on her water, she agrees to it
Congratulations! You have a wife!
The Creator, showing up hand in hand with an Eremite is not what an Akademiya scholar expected to see at four in the morning on a random day, but that is what he saw- and he thinks the subsequent panic is very understandable
Before you know it, you and your new wife are sitting in the acting grand sages office as Nahida uses some kind of Archon communication to page the other Archons
It takes about an hour for them to burst through the door
(In that time you’ve taught Alhaitham and Dehya how to play Rock Paper Scissors, Go Fish, Uno, and you’re in the middle of teaching them slapjack. Alhaithams hands are suspiciously red and Dehya is smirking)
They’re instantly fretting over you, apologizing for forgetting you and generally praising you, completely overwhelming until Dehya pulls you away
“Hey! Who are you supposed to be!” It’s Venti, disappointed that his god has been taken from him
“That’s my wife!” You state proudly.
And then everything clicks
“Wait, I’m a god?” 
The room explodes in noise, but Dehya’s hand never leaves yours
Arlecchino
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When it comes to Arlecchino, instead of taking you to Aaru Village, you ask them to take you to the border of Fontaine
You’ve only made it to the end of Sumeru in the Archon Quests- maybe if you head to Fontaine now, you’ll get to see the Archon Quest in person!
It’s only once you’ve taken the Aquabus to the Court of Fontaine that you realize you do not have a single mora on your person. 
It’s after a day of exploring that you end up near the sea, and after being startled by a giant crab appearing from nowhere (It was Very Scary I promise) you end up tumbling into the water, you’re trapped under, and-
Wait… you can still breathe!
You light up with excitement, diving deeper, and that begins your life as a diver.
You end up becoming a collector, selling cool shells and oddities to anyone in the Court who’s willing to buy them (You’ve built up a pretty good rapport with the supply manager of Chiori’s Boutique)
It’s also underwater that you discover you’re the creator- finding an old abandoned temple with murals of a god that look just like you, helping you make sense of the power beneath your skin
But hey, if no one else was gonna bring it up, you wouldn’t either
And it’s underwater that you end up meeting your first Fatui member: Freminet
He was surprised when he first saw you swimming around- but now he’s grown pretty accustomed to you, and sometimes you guys even interact
Admittedly, sound doesn’t travel well underwater, so most of your communication is via charades, but the two of you end up growing close
Freminet shows you cool diving spots, you collect valuables from the ocean floor together, swim together in blissful silence, and play with all the friendly ocean animals you seem to attract
It only takes about a month for Freminet to begin mentally referring to you as mother (This boy is starved of a parental figure)
And after that it only takes a week before he slips up
He’s waiting in Father’s office, looking around as he waits for him to arrive
It’s pretty sparsely decorated- but there are a few ornaments still left around.
“Mother would like this…” Freminet muses, looking at a small model boat, delicate and intricately carved.
A flash of heat at his back. “… What did you just say?”
After a very long and frantic explanation, and a slightly shorter lecture on stranger danger, Arlecchino demands to meet you.
You first meet the harbinger after a day diving with Freminet, and he shoots you an apologetic look as you both surface to find a harbinger on the shore
And then you make eye contact
Your thoughts: That is a harbinger. From the Fatui. Huh. I’m going to pretend not to know that.
Arlecchino’s thoughts: That is the Creator that The Tsaritsa told me to look out for. They have the exact same appearance. I will pretend not to know that.
Arlecchino asks you to tea to get to know you better, and it devolves from there.
At your tea party, she introduces herself as a completely normal orphanage matron, and you’re polite enough to not point out that her brooch is a tiny Fatui emblem
You introduce yourself as a normal diver and she ignores the fact that your spoon has been stirring sugar into your tea without you even touching it
Your relationship continues in a similar fashion, with the both of you pretending to be a completely normal couple
After a few months, when both of you are getting married, you both ignore the oddities of your guests
“Ah, darling, the Fatui are here.” “Oh yes, they sponsor my orphanage, how polite of them to come.”
“Angel, Morax is here.” “Huh. Isn’t he supposed to be dead?” “Yes.” “Well, I’m glad he could make it.” 
The both of you continue with intense purposeful ignorance
Venti: Your grace, do you really want to marry the harbinger? Is she threatening you?
You: What harbinger? I’m marrying a completely normal and totally average orphanage owner. So kind and generous she is.
Arlecchino, in the background, kicking Childe for trying to start a fight at her wedding, pausing to turn and wave: Hello.
Also Freminet is the flower girl
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macfrog · 6 months
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sweet child o' mine | pt. ii
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hi. this is max's lawyer speaking. please don't get mad at her for this part. she asked me to let you know that she loves you all and hopes that you trust her. sincerely, jimmy mcgill
pairing: neighbor!joel x fem!reader
summary: you're pregnant with joel miller's kid. he's dating someone else. you deal with it.
warnings: reader is literally pregnant so typical pregnancy stuff like nausea (none of the v word, y'all are safe with me), ultrasound scene set in a hospital, anxiety and guilt surrounding pregnancy, description of body change/growth, brief and i mean brief discussion of abortion, joel is dating someone who isn't reader, age gap (late 20s reader, late 40s joel), reader has no physical description save for hair, cursing, genderless use of buddy when referring to baby, joel kisses someone who is not his partner, mention of alcohol, disturbing & semi-graphic nightmare about being involved in car accident, reader has a panic attack, discussion of dead parents, fluff and the beginnings of angst DISCLAIMER: this series covers some issues which i know may be sensitive and possibly triggering to some. warnings will always be as thorough as possible, but if there's ever anything you feel i've missed, please let me know. feel free to drop by my inbox anytime.
word count: 9.2k
pt. i / series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🩵
“I know, I know,” Joel holds a palm up, “it’s nine thirty. I know. But I had to lug all this wood over here, and it – You okay?”
You realize when he pauses that you’re gaping at him, wide-eyed and frozen in place behind your front door. Your jaw hinges shut, a gulp like carpet burn down your throat. You didn’t hear a word he just said.
How does he know? He can’t possibly. Did he sense it, from two lawns away? Dream about the binding of cells, the furnace left lit in your body from that night? The embers still floating, just waiting to catch to life again?
Did he do the fucking math, the way you probably should’ve? How does he fucking know?
The minute the question leaves your mouth, you regret it.
Joel’s eyebrows drop. “How did I know what, kid? That you need new closets? Like you ain’t been nipping my ear about ‘em for weeks?”
Your eyes unlock from his and shift to the slats of wood leaning against the balustrade. The toolbox hanging from his fist. The worn jeans and the white dust marks on his thighs. He doesn’t fucking know, you idiot.
Joel steps forward. Takes your wrist. One grounding, steady hand around your thrashing pulse. “You’re freaking me out. What the hell’s –?”
“Nothing,” you chirp, remembering. The closet. The deal. The fucking – the deal. You withdraw your arm. Hidden up your sleeve, quickly slipping out of his grasp, is the news that his life is about to change forever.
Maybe. You don’t fucking know.
“No,” you continue, blinking the burn of sunlight from your vision, “I just – I forgot. Sorry. Come in. Sorry.”
“Quit sayin’ sorry,” he mutters, eyeing you suspiciously. He lifts a foot and hovers it over the threshold, hesitating. Like the first step across a minefield; instinct telling him to tread carefully.
And you swear an oath to yourself, swear it on your own life: if he doesn’t put the heel of his boot in your hallway, if he turns around right now whether because his instinct is razor sharp, or because he forgot his lucky screwdriver, or purely because he needs to take a fucking leak before he gets started – you will never tell him. He will never know.
If his intuition is that good, he’ll turn around and never show up on your porch again. If he has any sense, he’ll forget any of this ever happened. Deal off.
“How’s the stomach?” Joel asks, sole still three inches from wood.
“What?” you bleat, your heel knocking against the bottom stair. It’s a little more panicked than you intended.
“Yesterday,” a crease forms between his brows, “you said you had a weird stomach. That any better?”
Oh, you think, and as you open your mouth to reply, his foot hits the ground. No answer needed. He was coming in whether you tried to deter him or not.
“Oh, yeah. It’s – Well, it’s better than it was. I think I worked it out,” you grimace, tongue curling under the tinge of anxiety and – well. “Thanks,” you add, noticing the brisk cut of your replies.
The heavy thud of his footsteps follows you upstairs, blunt on the carpet as you lead him up. Joel sets the toolbox down and casts your room a quick glance, snapping back to you as soon as you notice him.
You tug on the corner of the bedsheets, a heat bubbling beneath your cheeks. Something shy and self-conscious, all of a sudden. The reality that you don’t feel close enough to this man to share the anatomy of your room with him, mixed with the knowledge that the two of you are, now and forever, bound by the anatomy of something a little more significant than dirty laundry and dusty wardrobes.
A little closer than most humans get, let’s say.
“You want a coffee or something?” you ask, crossing your arms and leaning back against the window sill.
“You havin’ one?”
“Sure. Wait – actually –” Can you have coffee whilst pregnant? A woman at work quit it altogether when she fell pregnant with her son. Fuck. “I’m – No. I’m good. But let me go make you one.”
Joel shakes his head, amused. Screwdriver burrowing into a door hinge already. He flashes you a tickled grin. “I’m good just now, kid. Wait until you’re makin’ one. Thanks.”
You lift a shoulder. “Welcome.”
His eyes flit from the twist of silver to your hunched shoulders, your arms crossed protectively over your chest. “You gonna stand there ‘n watch me all day? You my foreman now?”
“Sure,” you reply, and he laughs. You sniff, twisting your foot into the carpet. The plastic test itches against your skin; you can feel the two lines ripping into your wrist like tiny burns. “I can go, if you want.”
His lip turns, musing. A quick flick of his jaw. “You’re good company, all in all.”
Metal clanking against metal; fingers knuckle-deep in the toolbox. You can hear the harsh sound across your body, like the point of screws and bite of rust are actually scoring your skin. The groan of a near-fifty-year-old man rising to rip a decades-old door from its home. The creak of wood as it splits.
Everything so heightened that it’s actually painful.
Joel straightens up and pauses, turning his screwdriver between his fingers. “Are we –? We’re good, right?”
“Good?”
“Yeah. You’d tell me if things were weird?”
“Why would things be weird?”
His answer scrawls itself across his face. Your response scoffs from your lips.
“I just,” Joel sighs, “I feel like something might be off with ya. Maybe you just ain’t feelin’ too hot. But you’re quiet.”
“Quiet,” you whisper, palms locking heavily against your biceps. More defensive than convincing.
“Yeah. You usually annoy the hell outta me.”
Over your shoulder, Alice Brown waddles down her driveway, eyeing her flowerbeds. She pauses when Diane’s station wagon pulls up across the street; stands motionless as she watches the round figure climb out and totter to her own front door.
“Just – not in a very annoying mood, I guess,” you offer, staring at the white head of hair fluttering in the breeze. The glint of a trowel in her hand.
Joel’s chin lifts. He studies you, tongue tracing the ridges of his teeth. And then he’s nearing you, turning until you’re shoulder to shoulder, two silhouettes stood against the bright square of blue sky inside your window frame. His arms crossed; his stare fixed.
The words begin to boil in your stomach. Violent bubbles against the wall of your midriff. Rising like steam, fading into nothingness over your tongue, the sting of heat where your voice won’t collect them.
Joel moves from foot to foot. It feels like some kind of merry dance, some choreographed moment between you – like a skit in a comedy show. I know something you don’t know.
“What happened – at the wedding,” he murmurs, addressing the polished gold of your bedframe.
Some small sound passes your lips. An affirmative. You’re on the same page.
“We didn’t use – you know. And with you not feelin’ well, it’s…” A deep breath. Chest full of a ghostly bravery. And then he asks, “Are you –?”
Silence swallows the end of his question whole. You didn’t need it, anyway. The stiffness of his frame, his stare shooting straight ahead. The lack of oxygen between you – both holding your breath for fear that something might tear loose from your lungs. He knows. He knows he knows he knows.
You gulp. “…If I was?”
His head cranes upwards, focusing on the cracked plaster of your ceiling. The realization slowly trickling down over his skin. It hasn’t seeped through, hasn’t bled into his brain yet. “Then,” another breath, “then it’d be a conversation…” His voice is halved, split somewhere between knowing and – what is it? Hoping?
Your eyes slip over to the worn sleeve of his T-shirt, stretched around the swell of his bicep; scaling up to his shoulder, the tight set of his jaw. He’s so much taller, he’s so much older. There’s so much life lived and so many lessons learned behind his eyes that you wonder how much the news I’m pregnant would actually crack him.
Your eyes meet. You whisper, “Then – talk,” and his expression softens.
He blinks away whatever’s left of his trying, his polite attempts to skirt around it. He sheds probably a good three decades – turns back into some doe-eyed boy, wonderstruck and terrified. His voice is quiet, and at the same time, the heaviest with emotion you’ve ever heard it. “Are you?” he asks, and immediately, he blurs behind a wall of tears.
Your sentence gets caught in your teeth. It made no sense to begin with. Tangled between your molars, latching at the back of your tongue. Your hand slowly pulls free from your sleeve, the little white test between your fingers.
Joel’s eyes instantly drop, staring at the pale stick with a fraught expression you understand to mean the message has finally reached his brain. The same words now ringing between his ears: She’s pregnant. She’s pregnant. I got her pregnant.
You hold the test out, quivering in the daylight. He takes it in his thumbs, instantly soothing its tremble. Everything muted, every movement steady and considered. And suddenly the sight of that positive test feels less scary, in his hands. Feels like a smaller problem, if that were ever possible.
And he says nothing, and it’s almost unbearable to watch the shape of his lips thin, the shadow beneath his brows darken. Agonizing to stand here and wonder what the next words over his tongue will be.
He stares at it a moment longer. You count the beats of your pulse in your throat. You wrap your arms tighter around your body, holding your skeleton together.
Joel’s lips part. Your breath freezes. Whatever he says, you don’t want to miss a syllable.
“Are you –” he blinks, “– are you feelin’ okay?”
You stare blankly. His eyes finally lift.
“What?”
“Are you feeling okay?”
Your head jerks. “I’m – I’m fine. I mean, I’m fucking shocked.”
He nods. “How long have you known?”
“Took that right before you showed up,” you say, eyes diving to his hands. “Twenty minutes, maybe.”
He’s still switching between you and the test. Checking those two lines are still there, as if they might fade to nothing, and then checking you’re still there – as if you might, too. Might be swept off if he’s not keeping an eye on you.
His face pales. He sinks back against the window ledge. “Jesus,” he breathes, a hand down the scruff of his chin.
And it feels like relief, like a mirror sat before you, presenting the honest truth: you’re fucked, and Joel thinks so, too. It embeds the shock into the cushion of your brain, the weight of it absorbed and laid bare for every particle in your body to pay it a visit. What the fuck do we do now?
“Yeah,” you sniff, “Jesus.”
But then his arm wraps around your shoulder, reminding you you’re still solid. Still whole. He holds you to his side, and when you turn into him, he takes you in the other and pulls you flat against his chest. His lips to your hair. His breathing slowing yours.
“We’re gonna work it out,” he says into your hair. “We’re gonna – Jesus, I did not expect…We are goin’ to be fine, alright? You are goin’ to be fine.”
You’re nodding, the prickle of tears flooding across your eyes again. They’re doing nothing, his words – blunt against your skin and insignificant to the fear swelling around your heart – but it feels better to be afraid with someone. Feels better to hold onto something stronger, something bigger, while you feel yourself beginning to shrink.
“What do we do?” you ask into his shirt.
Joel loosens his grip, pulls away until you’re staring at one another. “What do you wanna do?”
“I don’t…” Your head’s shaking, lips moving quicker than your voice will offer the words over. “I don’t think I want to get rid of it.”
He nods, a hand coming up to hold your cheek. “Alright. Then you don’t have to. You don’t gotta do anythin’ you’re not comfortable with.”
“But,” you sniff, guiltily averting his gaze, “this fucks everything up. Everything’s about to change.”
Joel takes a long, slow breath. “It complicates some things, that’s for sure.” He looks out to the street; Alice Brown now hauling weeds from the edge of her lawn. In his exhale, he breathes a name.
“V…What?”
He looks down. Eyes dance around your damp cheeks. “Vanessa,” he says, clearer now.
“Vanessa?”
A nod. His nose wriggles with an awkward sniff. You push off from his chest.
“Who the hell is Vanessa?”
Joel lets you go; lets you step back. He watches as you brace yourself against the ledge. Runs a hand through his hair while he fixes the right order of words. He’s thinking. Carefully.
Too fucking carefully. He’s taking too long.
“Joel. Who’s Vanessa?”
“She’s…” He sighs. “She’s my ex. From Tommy’s wedding. Vanessa Hart.”
Your jaw slackens. The purple dress. The hair like silk, a halo around her head where the light kissed her perfectly. Her plump lips; the way her head tipped back to laugh. The amount of air you felt her take up the second you laid eyes on her, the second you saw her, arm on top of Joel’s.
“Vanessa,” you whisper, your eyes descending his frame. The memory feels menacing now: her sweet giggle a sneering cackle, and you’ve no idea why. The bulky jewels around her neck, her clawed fingers on his arm.
Joel’s hand sits inches from yours on the wooden sill. Alice is walking back inside.
“We, uh…we swapped numbers the morning after the wedding, at breakfast. I didn’t think much of it, but we’ve seen each other a couple times since.”
This isn’t the time for another it’s a date, it’s not a date argument. What the fuck does he mean by –
“Seen each other?”
“Mhm.” He owes you better than that. He reckons so, too. “Dates,” he clarifies. “We’ve been on a couple dates.”
“Oh.”
Your heart falls to the pit of your stomach. Plummets, dragging with it your breath and your nerve and any other words you can think of. Your chest gnaws at the edges of the cavity left behind. It hurts. It stings.
Though you’ve no right for it to hurt or sting: as far as you were concerned, as far as you think Joel was concerned, that night was a one-off. It meant as little as the alcohol draining from your glasses, the vacant buzz of love and hope loose in the air. Equally as intoxicating as each other.
Cataclysmic, for the first little while. So heavily awkward that you would wait to watch Joel head out in the morning, clear of your path, before you’d set off for work. It felt like the aftermath of some natural disaster – the cleanup of debris and mistake.
But oh, it feels like a punch to the gut. Low, unexpected; a foul move by someone who never meant to hurt or not hurt you. Someone ignorant to every move he made, right up to this moment.
Your arms wrap around your body again, as though tending to the bruise left by the sucker punch shaped something like that tall woman named Vanessa.
Joel scratches the back of his neck. “We were…we were seein’ about starting things up again. Me ‘n her.”
“Yeah,” you nod, “I got you. That’s – I mean, I’m – I’m sorry, Joel, I –”
“Woah, woah,” he’s stepping forward now, “hey, no. No way. This wasn’t you. Well, shoot – it kinda was you. But it was just as much me, right?”
You smile, your face back in the safe hold of his hands. Tears roll down your cheeks, collecting in the corners of your mouth. His thumbs swipe them away.
“This was just as much me,” he repeats, voice soft and soothing.
“But, you know – if you wanted to – just ‘cause I don’t want to get – so if you didn’t wanna have to – that’d be okay, you know that, right?”
His head snaps back, brows low. It’s the first time he looks like his cool has broken all morning. It’s the first time he looks…downright offended. “Are you kidding me?” he asks, and then, “Tell me you’re kidding.”
“I just – I know this ain’t ideal. It’s even worse if you’re tryna make it work with Vanessa. So if you felt like it was too much, then…”
Joel shakes his head. “Shut up,” he says, edged with some kind of groan. “Stop talking, right now. Stop. You gotta take a deep breath, alright? I’m here, ‘n I mean I’m here. We’re in this together. I am not running out on you.”
“Joel –”
What was a mere crack in his cool before, rips through it now like lightning spreading across the sky. He closes his eyes, a sigh escaping between his teeth. “If you think I would leave you right now, to deal with this on your own –”
“I don’t,” you tell him, his vexation powering your sudden animation. You wipe your tears away, shaking your head. “I’m just saying, it’s a fucking lot. I don’t want you to feel trapped. I’m giving you an out, man.”
“I am not interested in taking it. Enough. Conversation over.”
“And what about Vanessa?”
“What about her?” he asks, the question dripping in something akin to anger. He catches himself, draws it back in. “She’ll just – We’ll talk, I’ll explain it. The hell else can we do? One thing at a time, okay?”
“Right,” you nod, “okay. One thing at a time.”
“Let’s just build these damn wardrobes. I sure as hell didn’t lug all that timber over here to not do ‘em.”
“Okay,” you repeat, making for the door.
“Ah.” He clicks, and you turn back. “Where the hell do you think you’re goin’?”
“To get the timber.”
“I don’t think so,” he says, pointing to your bed. “Sit down. Relax. You ain’t getting a damn thing.”
Joel calls it a day at six o’clock.
The skeleton of the closet is up: a smooth, tan frame lining one wall of your room. Much bigger, much sturdier than its predecessor.
You’re in the same spot he left you in: lying across your bed, admiring his handiwork. He’s good at what he does. You told him twice, and the two of you almost heaved both times. Compliments aren’t something you’re used to handing one another.
He left, maybe, three hours ago. Said he had to shower; said he’d be back first thing to finish the job. You sat up to see him out, got struck by a wave of nausea so bad that you fell back to the bed with one hand on your stomach and the other over your lips, and Joel had insisted – demanded – that you stay where you were.
I’ll be back later to check on ya, he assured, setting a glass of water at your bedside. And then he told you to call him if you felt even remotely off – sick, or panicked, or had a tickle in your throat that you couldn’t clear – and that’s when the two of you realized that you don’t even have one another’s numbers.
And you laughed, the both of you; laughed at the absurdity of you carrying his child when you don’t even carry his contact details in your phone. Laughed at how quickly everything has turned one hundred and eighty degrees in the few hours since you woke up. It felt like some form of release, the only way to clear the blockage of tension in both your throats. So, you laughed, until you felt sick again, and Joel swept the hair from your shoulders to cool you down.
The attentiveness is…new. It’s interesting. It’s kind, in the same way that being told to say hi to whoever your grandma is talking to in the grocery store, is kind. Sweet, the same way that answering the door on Halloween to a bunch of kids you don’t know from a street you don’t recognize the name of, is sweet.
Whatever. It’s fucking weird, alright?
You’ve never seen this side of Joel. You didn’t know or even think, in your wildest dreams, that he existed. Let’s face it: you two have spent the entirety of your inhabitance next door to one another, antagonizing each other. Your favorite hobby has always been pissing Joel off – teasing him for having backache, seeing how far down his porch you can launch his newspaper and he’ll still go get it. Playing the same kind of music you heard him playing on his guitar that one time, full-volume from your kitchen window just to fuck with him.
And, likewise: his favorite hobby has always been…well, ignoring you. Doing everything he can not to engage. If it weren’t for that fucking cat lady and her jittery green Chevrolet, none of this would’ve ever happened. She was a catalyst where one was neither needed nor wanted. You would’ve gone about your life, pinning your underwear only slightly more carefully to your clothesline, and Joel would’ve gone about his, doing – whatever the fuck he does.
Sure, it’s weird. But it’s nice. It’s nice to have him on your side, turning to check on you rather than snap at you for something. Nice to have him talk – actual, rounded words in place of grumbles and mumbles and groans and sighs. Nice to hang out with him and watch him work and ask questions about screws and power tools and pretend to be interested just to distract from the weight of queasiness in your stomach.
Your hands trail down, cupping around your navel. Your stomach still feels like your stomach: still soft, still spongey under your touch. If not for the two more tests you’d taken this afternoon, perched on the bathroom counter waiting for Joel to unstick his gaze from his watch and announce, That’s three minutes – both also positive, by the way – you’d have no fucking clue.
You hold the bottom half of your tummy, fingers rubbing gently over the skin that will soon enough grow and swell and protect.
“Hey,” you whisper, staring at the stationary ceiling fan overhead. A pause. An awkward inhale. “…hey, little buddy. I don’t – know you very well, yet. I figure you can’t even fucking hear me, but whatever. Just wanted to say hi. I’m – Ew, no. I’m not Mom, yet. What the fuck. I don’t know who I am right now, so just…maybe go easy on me until I figure that part out. And after, too. Alright? Are we…we cool?
“You can’t tell me, I know. I just have to assume we’re cool. Okay. Well. Keep growin’. Keep…doing your thing. You’re doing great. We’re doing – we’re doing alright.
“Good job, kid. Good job.”
Joel tells Vanessa two days later. She takes it…about as well as you might hope.
He says they talked for four hours. Three cups of coffee and a drive to Taco Bell later, she agreed to meet you. Properly. Not across the cluttered dancefloor of Tommy’s wedding.
She –? Is – is that a good idea?
I don’t know, kid. It’s the best I’ve got.
Meet me? Like, come kick my ass for sleeping with her boyfriend?
Joel had sighed and deadened his eyes on yours. Not her boyfriend, he corrected, passing you a sweater folded a little slapdash for your liking, and wasn’t her boyfriend when we slept together.
You shook the sweater straight again and fixed his work, muttering to yourself that at least he’s a better builder than he is a folder.
Joel heard you, and let it go. Passed you another – unfolded – sweater to sit in your wardrobe. Let’s just see how it goes, alright?
Alright.
We’re really trying this again. It’s only been a couple weeks.
Okay.
And neither of us have had much luck in that department since we broke it off, y’know?
Joel. I said okay.
He held your gaze a moment too long. Okay.
You’re on your porch when he strolls over, wrist blocking the six o’clock sun from his eyes. Newspaper in his fist, wind licking the corners. “Forget somethin’ today?” he asks, meeting you at the top of the steps.
“Came out to get it,” you brace yourself on the railing, “felt sick. This is me workin’ up to it.”
“You want me to toss it back onto my lawn so you can go fetch me it?”
You smile, eyes screwing shut. “Was coming over to ask what time for tomorrow.”
The reminder snaps him from his happy daydream. He says, “I was comin’ to ask you the same thing. Seven work?”
“Seven’s good. Are we getting food?”
“You wanna get food? I figured maybe you wouldn’t be up for it, what with the, uh…” Joel gestures to your hunched position, your head low between your shoulders, your deep, deliberate breaths.
“Maybe just drinks,” you utter, gulping back the sharp taste of bile.
He nods. “Drinks it is. You okay? You need anything?”
“I’m good. Thanks. See you guys at seven.”
Four minutes early, there’s a knock at your door. You pull it open, and there they are. Picture-perfect, like they might be posing for a holiday card. A bottle in his arm, a bunch of flowers in hers. A timid but genial smile between her cheeks, a twinkle in her eye. That same circle of shining light around her head, brunette tresses curled into bouncing waves.
“Howdy,” Joel says, stepping into the space you create. He dips his head, kisses your cheek, whispers a brief, Y’okay? in your ear. You nod quickly, gently shifting him out of the way.
Vanessa lingers for a moment in the doorway. She glances from Joel to you again, blinking in the porch light. Her pale skin lit in an ethereal glow. She’s prettier up close.
Joel addresses you, hand brushing the small of your back, “…this is Vanessa.”
“Hi,” she says, and pushes the flowers towards you – a small bouquet of gypsophila and eucalyptus. Bright, polite. Each sprig laden with the burden of appearing simpatico, but important. Meaningful, in the airiest sense of the word. “Hi,” again.
“Hi,” you echo, and then feel stupid for having nothing more to offer. You can feel Joel’s eyes on you, hot on your shoulder.
But Vanessa takes the weight from your chest. “It’s nice to meet you – officially. I saw you at Tommy and Maria’s wedding. You looked so beautiful.”
“Thanks,” springs from your tongue sooner than the rest of the sentence. Your brain scrams to find more words. “You looked – you looked great, too. Do you wanna –? I mean – Sorry. Come in. Obviously.”
She clicks over the threshold, her pale dress floating into your hallway like she’s part of a dream. She’s just as beautiful in this light, relaxed form – pastel blue and the glimmer of golden jewelry – as she was in the sleeker, more dramatic form you saw her in before. An aura about her which captures and tends to your attention. Intense, captivating, but not intimidating.
You usher them to the living room, offer them a space on the couch while you take Vanessa’s flowers to the kitchen. Joel follows you through, sets the bottle on the counter.
“Nonalcoholic,” he says, unscrewing the cap.
Your eyebrows jump. “Great. Thanks.”
“She’s nervous,” he murmurs, leaning in. “I know you are, too. Y’all are similar like that.”
You slot the stems into a vase of water one by one, carefully organizing a display. “She seems sweet,” you assure him. “She shouldn’t be nervous.”
“Neither should you.”
“Is this…totally weird for you?”
Joel breathes in deep, filling three glasses. “Yeah,” he says, eyes never lifting from the sparkling peach.
“Sorry.”
He angles his jaw. “Stop sayin’ you're sorry. I’ll kick your ass.”
Your head drops between your shoulders, eyes lifting only to his elbows. “Sorry.”
He scoffs, swiping the glasses and stepping back to let you out first.
“I’m trying not to make it weird,” you offer, slipping by.
“I don’t want you to try anything.” He kicks your ankle lightly and follows you back into the living room.
Vanessa sits forward and clasps her hands around her knee when you sit back down, shifting as though to reach for you before she stops herself. “How are you feeling? Joel said you’re a little…worse for wear, right now.”
“I’ve been better,” you say, smiling. “Just morning sickness. Which lasts – all day.”
She nods sympathetically. “My sister had it rough with her first. I actually…” She twists around, reaches for her purse, fishes out an orange packet. “I brought you some ginger tea. Kate told me it helped her a lot, so.”
She holds it out in almost trembling fingers. Likewise, you steady yours to take it from her, thanking her with a shy nod of the head. “That’s so kind,” you reply quietly, eyes darting to Joel. He’s staring at the pack in your hands, watching as you turn it over to read the back.
“And – listen,” Vanessa continues, the acceptance of her offering clearly fueling her assuredness, “I don’t want anything to be weird – between you and I, between you and Joel. I know this situation is…new. It’s, um…”
“It’s kinda weird,” you say, humoring. “It’s okay. I know.”
She breathes a relieved laugh. “It is. Thank God you said it.” She glances back at Joel, who smiles at her, slips his hand onto her knee. “But I guess,” a deep breath, “I guess it is what it is. And we’re all adults, you know? We can make it work, right?”
Your head switches rapidly between nodding enthusiastically and shaking enthusiastically. “Yeah. Yes. No, absolutely. And, you know, me and Joel – there isn’t – we’re not at all…”
“Oh,” she bats the idea away, “I know. I know that. He told me everything. It’s – You know, it’s just a timing thing.”
Joel’s staring down at his hand locked around her leg. Unblinking. Unmoving. His expression doesn’t shift until the two of you settle back into your seats; until Vanessa asks if he’d mind making you a cup of ginger tea.
You barely notice his absence, the way she takes you up in conversation. Like twirling you off in some kind of dance, each sentence strung safely to the next. There are no lulls, no awkward pauses. She asks about work, asks about your family. She tells you stories about her niece, who’s three now, and compares how you’re feeling to how she remembers her sister feeling.
Then her work, and the IT guy her friend hooked up with, and her class at the gym which she’s trying to convince Joel to come along to, and Kate’s hot yoga class every Thursday night, and the new sushi place which just opened downtown and You gotta try it some day; the nigiri is divine.
And you nod along, and you laugh at her anecdotes and tell your own, and Joel tells her to tell you about the jazz band who were playing at the restaurant they visited a couple weeks ago, and you offer to top her drink up and she says she’ll do it herself and she leaves you and Joel alone for the first time all evening, and – it’s weird.
Because – behind the veil of conversation you’re doing your best to uphold, sits an image of this very night – only, in Joel’s house. In Joel’s house, on Joel’s couch, drinking nonalcoholic wine with Joel’s brother. Joel and Vanessa leant against one another on one couch, Tommy and Maria on the other.
You can’t help it – you’re wondering what Maria thinks of Vanessa. How long they knew each other, if at all, before the breakup. Whether they hung out, whether they discussed sushi and yoga, or the housing market, or their Miller boyfriends and their annoying Miller habits.
Maria would’ve liked her, you think. Would’ve found her as lovely as you do. And the idea, the image of them giggling together at family parties and being Tommy’s Maria and Joel’s Vanessa – presses a firm, bullying finger into the bruise you thought had faded some from the other day.
And once they’re gone, once you’re left alone again – lying in still silence, closed in on yourself by the thick darkness of your room, nothing but you and your thoughts and your unborn child for company – it slips out.
“Fuck her, right?” You hold your hands out, addressing your stomach. “She was so fucking nice. Did you like her? Fuck me, I liked her. I hope they break up.”
And then, realizing who you’re talking to: “No. Sorry, baby, no. I don’t hope they break up. I want your dad to be really happy. But – Goddamn. She was so sweet. I thought she was gonna slap me, and she just – she brought ginger tea! Fuck. They look good together, don’t they?”
It’s just hormones. Just the emotional trip that is being four weeks pregnant. Everybody feels like this when they fall pregnant – sensitive, vulnerable, clingy. Right? Right?
Your words sit stagnant in midair. You swear you can see them, heavy and intruding. Awkwardly lingering someplace they don’t belong. Because none of it even matters – the hormones, the emotions. The weird knot burning a hole in your chest, shaped like a clenched fist, knuckles branded by the heat of longing. It can’t matter.
You’re where you are, he’s where he is. A pillow in your arm, Vanessa in his. Feet apart, bricks and mortar and something like twenty years and two dates too late separating you.
Both staring up at the ceiling, wondering who the other’s thinking of.
“At eight weeks, your baby is roughly the size of a raspberry.”
Your knee bounces, breath coming and going in shaky ripples. The rubber sole of your shoe cries against the sterilized hospital floor. Your chest hums anxiously and your throat catches when you swallow and are the lights too bright? The room too hot? You’re sweating. Why are you sweating? Can you breathe right now?
Joel nudges your arm and your eyes roll to the pamphlet in his hand, his finger tracing the words. “C’mon,” he utters, leaning in, “how can anything the size of a raspberry be scary?”
You squint under fluorescent white. “A raspberry that grows into the size of a watermelon, can break my ribs, make me throw up, make me lose hair, and then tear my vagina apart on its way out? That’s pretty scary.”
He smirks. “Not to me it ain’t. My vagina stays perfectly intact the entire time.”
“Oh, fuck off,” you reply, whacking him.
He laughs, swatting your palm away, keeping ahold of your fingers inside his own. “Speaking of – we gotta talk.” He elbows you, waiting until you’re looking again to speak. “We gotta cut the language.”
“Cut the language?”
“Uhuh. Rein it in. And by we, I mean you.”
“Uh,” you scoff, “I don’t think so. When you do the growing, then you can rein your own swearing in. Leave me alone, asshole.”
“Charming,” Joel says. “You know the baby can hear you? You want it to come out swearin’ like a trooper?”
You grin, tipping your head to him. “If it comes out and says anything, we’re rich. So – yeah. Let it.”
He opens his mouth to reply when a nurse emerges from a nearby room and calls your name.
“You’re up, kid,” Joel says, standing beside you.
You turn back, speaking before your brain settles on words. “I’m scared.”
“Hey,” he says, taking your hand. He squeezes it gently, uses the other to keep you facing him. “This is the easy part, right? We’re just going to meet them.”
“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, and wander over to meet the nurse. Joel’s hand a vice grip around yours.
She leads you into a similarly washed-out clinic room, only slightly dimmer with the lights turned out, and yanks a roll of paper across the bed. Tapping it twice, she smiles. “Hop up, darlin’.”
You settle into the crinkly paper, leaning back until you’re blinking up at the speckled ceiling. Another door opens and a woman in a white coat floats in, and you swear that if it weren’t for Joel’s Evenin’, ma’am when she greets the two of you, you’d believe she were a figment of your imagination. Another character in this fucking insane dream.
“Not often I do these past five o’clock,” she says, clicking her mouse and typing on her keyboard and fixing a hair grip back into her bun. Casual. It’s not even a thing to her, introducing parents and children. She does this all fucking day.
Joel tosses half a glance to you and then realizes you’re not currently in the room. He pinches your hand again. It grounds you for all of two seconds.
“Yeah, uh,” he clears his throat, “work commitment. I couldn’t get away any earlier, so we’re havin’ to do this a little late.”
“What do you do?” she asks, staring at her screen. Her glossy brown eyes and rich, dark skin.
“I’m a contractor,” Joel replies, thumb stroking your shoulder.
Something bubbles in your stomach, something akin to jealousy, an urgency to tell her that right now, in this room, he’s mine. No more questions. Something which quickly dissipates when you remind yourself to quit being fucking ridiculous and that right now, in this room, he’s someone else’s, and the thumb on your shoulder is merely to hold you back from fleeing. Nothing more.
The sonographer nods. Her name badge reads Freya. Pretty name. Stop picturing what your kid would look like as a Freya. You are not naming them after the first sonographer you meet.
“Shouldn’t be too long, then y’all can get home for the night. You live nearby?”
“Twenty minutes’ drive. Not far, are we?” Joel asks you.
Your eyes shoot down to his. “No,” you push your cheeks up, telling Freya, “not far.”
She flattens her lips against one another, lending you a sympathetic smile. “You got nothing to worry about, honey. Promise. Gel might be a little cold, that’s about as scary as this gets. We’re just gonna make sure everything’s looking good, check your dates, check your measurements. You’re doing great.”
“You hear that?” Joel murmurs, settling down into the chair by your side. His hand hasn’t left yours. His voice is low, meant just for you, when he repeats, “You’re doin’ great.”
You huff a laugh, some nervous release from your lungs.
Freya smiles, face lit by the faint glow of the screen in front of her. “We ready?”
You roll the hem of your tee up when she motions, bunching it under the wire of your bra. She squeezes a bottle over your stomach, which tenses solid when the frozen bite of gel curls right below your belly button. Freya smiles apologetically when you wince. Told you, she murmurs, and your breath escapes in a slightly more comfortable laugh. Lighter, easier. Scariest part over.
She presses the probe to your skin and spreads the gel, coating the bottom of your tummy in a slippery slick which tickles with each inch she covers. Two buttons pressed, and a dark image appears on a screen opposite you.
A gray fan, speckled like the ceiling above your head. Dark, black shapes growing and shrinking at the turn of Freya’s wrist. She pauses, two blobs onscreen: the larger, black, round, home to a smaller, misshapen one. Flecked with white and silver and moving slowly, gently, but – right there.
“Mom, Dad,” she grins, “meet your baby.”
You and Joel move forward at the same time, drawn closer to the crunchy image as if by some kind of natural magnetism. Eyes never blinking, lips agape. The shapes flutter, the smaller dipping in and out of view.
“You see right here, right in the center?” A white cross appears over the blob’s middle. “That little movement? The kinda – pulsing?”
You each nod. Your nails dig so deep into Joel’s hand that you risk drawing blood.
“That’s the heart. Ticking away.”
“The heart?” you ask, watching the rhythmic flicker in the center of the screen.
“Yep. Perfect, too.”
She hits another key and suddenly the room is filled with a muffled thudding; a steady, energetic pulse in your ears. It matches the movements onscreen, the tiny throb of the baby’s chest, the shape of your womb moving like waves before you.
And suddenly, it's real – all of it: the screen and the room and the sonographer and you, and Joel’s hand encasing yours, holding your knuckles to his lips, and –
And the heartbeat. Right there, right in front of you. Shy, probably as nervous as you are to introduce themselves. Feeling your eyes on them, curled up somewhere safe inside you. Right there.
You turn to Joel, and his illuminated face is staring straight at the screen. Eyes soaked with tears, blinking as they form, cheeks dappled with wet. He draws his eyes from his child only to look back at you, only to mirror your stunned smile, your disbelieving laugh, more tears dripping down into his beard. He sits up, presses his damp lips firmly to your forehead.
Freya mutes the heartbeat, pauses the scan where the image is clearest, and sits back. “I’ll give you guys a moment to yourselves,” she says, wheeling back in her chair. “Take all the time you need. I’m right outside.”
“Thanks,” Joel mumbles for the both of you, sweeping hair from your face.
The door closes on your little bubble – you, Joel, and the grainy image of your baby. The evidence that – yeah, that night happened, and yeah, you’re forever changed because of it. The evidence that you’re about to become a mom, for real, no matter how much the thought makes you feel like your stomach is kicking around at your ankles.
And the evidence that, no matter how scared you might be, how unprepared and unworthy you feel – you fucking adore that little blob already.
Love it as much as Joel does, stood over you, kissing your hair and whispering words you’re only half-listening to. A quiet thank you, a shaky I can’t believe it. Something about showing his brother. And when you look up at him, blinking at one another, inches apart – he takes your jaw in his hands and lowers his lips to yours.
Different. Softer. No want laced through. No urgency. Nothing needed, nor requested, that isn’t already right here in this little bubble of yours.
He kisses you slowly, eyes closed, holding you until you pull away for breath. His nose bumps against yours and you laugh, heads together, eyes low.
“Still scared?” he whispers.
“Terrified,” you tell him.
“Me, too,” he says, and kisses you again.
You lean back against the bed, relief settling your bones and soothing your heartbeat. The notion washes over you that, if you could, you’d stay in this room forever. Staring at the screen, holding Joel’s hand. Whispering fears into his mouth and letting him swallow them in a kiss.
He hands you some paper towel and helps you drag it across your stomach, your eyes still fixed on the little shape opposite. He hooks his chin over your head – the fresh, woody smell of his cologne infiltrating your lungs and throwing you under the haze of something you’re not quite sure how to define.
“Duck,” he says, voice vibrating into your skull.
“Huh?”
“Start saying duck. Make the baby think we’re saying that, then you can say –” he lowers his voice, “– fuck, all you want.”
“The hell would I have to say duck for?”
Joel stands upright and shrugs. “I don’t know. Think of somethin’. A nickname, maybe.”
“Duck?”
He nods plainly, glancing over to the screen.
The pillow beneath your head sighs as you turn from Joel back to the ultrasound. “Baby Duck,” you offer, and he smiles.
Smiles in a way you don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile. Eyes glistening, cheeks swollen. Something innocent and earnest about it. Something pure.
He agrees. “Baby Duck it is.”
Joel insists that you spend the night at his place.
“It’s been a big day,” he reasons, fixing the bed in his guestroom. “Just – let me run around after you for a little bit.”
You fight your corner as much as you can be bothered – I gotta maintain my independence, I’m gonna be a single mom soon enough, you know – but, truthfully, you’ll take any excuse to have him rush around at your beck and call. Some days you open your mouth and he hears the wet click of saliva between your lips, and grabs a glass of water for you before you’ve even voiced the request.
He orders takeout, settles shoulder-to-shoulder with you on the couch, and lets you pick whichever movie you feel like putting him through until the food’s gone, he’s out of beer, and you’ve abandoned Heath Ledger and Julia Stiles for an argument about the best part of pizza.
You don’t like the crust?
Nope.
What fuckin’ age are you?
If it ain’t stuffed, it’s just not worth it.
At eleven, you bid him goodnight and wander upstairs, falling into a sea of navy-blue sheets to be delivered to sleep by the serene silence of Joel’s home. It takes no time for your eyes to flutter closed, the soft sheen of moonlight painted across the wall, sweeping from your view to be replaced in a whir by –
Lights. Overhead and all around and so bright and so close that you swear they’re etched on the inside of your eyelids.
You’re in the backseat, watching them soar by in blurs of white and red and amber and green, and your pulse is rattling through your veins and throbbing between your temples and you can’t focus on any one object for longer than three seconds, before your eyes roll and your head dizzies.
A word, slung from your lips in a half-wakened attempt to stop it. A word you barely recognize at first, don’t understand the meaning of. It’s been years. Why now? Mom.
You’re not sure why, or who you’re even reaching out to. There are two figures in the front seats, heads facing forward. She’s not turning around. She’s not even fucking moving, not reacting to the speed or the lights or your voice. Mom.
You scream it, the syllable ripping violently from your throat, and your tiny fingers reach for her swirls of hair. You pause, staring at the chipped polish on your stubby, kiddy nails. Mom, I’m scared.
The distorted blast of a horn scoops the car up in one motion, hurtling over itself along the freeway. You’re thrown to the roof of the car, plummet back down to your seat; the seatbelt throttles you, rips a burn deep into the skin of your neck. Back up again; your head hits the spongey roof of the car. Your stomach somersaults.
Mom, please, you wail, swiping for her hand. It’s lying limp by her thigh, dark droplets on her wrist. Mom Mom please Mom I’m scared Mom please I’m so scared I –
“Baby.”
His voice is low, earthy. It chews apart the high-pitched squeal of brakes and screaming. The glass smashing. The metal crunching.
You lift from the bed like it’s ice water, gasping when you finally surface back on Earth. Your chest heaves, it’s not sucking in enough breath; you can’t breathe you can’t breathe you can’t fucking breathe.
Joel whips the cover from your legs and you roll from the mattress, feet planting on the floor. You bend forward to grip onto the sheets, a choking rising up your throat, closer and closer until it tugs on your tongue.
“Icantbreathe,” you pant.
Joel’s body curves around yours. “You’re alright,” he’s telling you – urging you; one hand between your shoulder blades, the other holding your wrist for fear you might collapse. “I’m here, you’re okay. You’re at my place, you’re safe, but, kid – I need you to slow down. You’re hyperventilating.”
You work your breathing to the strokes of his hand up and down your spine: in out in out in and out and in and out and in, and out, and in, and…out…and in…and…out.
“That’s it. Keep doing that. You’re good, baby, I got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
In – and out. In – and out again.
The room slowly desaturates back into boring, moonlit blue. Feeling sputters back into your hands, clawing at the sheets once the sharpness dissolves. The cotton pets back, smooth under your quivering touch. Your lips stop tingling, your ears stop ringing. One after another, until your blood settles back to a steady stream and you straighten up.
“Can you sit down for me?”
“No,” you whimper, and Joel nods.
“That’s alright,” he says. “I’m gonna get you a drink, that okay?”
You grab his T-shirt. “No. Don’t leave me. Please. Sorry.”
He cups your frozen cheeks. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere. Just downstairs. You can come.”
He settles you at his kitchen table and shuffles over to the cupboards, rubbing his eyes. You feel the heat of embarrassment and guilt, watching as he settles down with a groan minutes later.
“Ginger,” he tells you, voice rounded by his mug, sliding one of your own over to you.
“Sorry,” you mumble, lifting it with two hands. The smell sharp, cutting up the remnants of gasoline and smoke.
“Many times do I gotta say it?” he asks dryly. “Quit sayin’ you’re sorry.”
You gulp nervously. “You got work in the morning. You’re gonna be exhausted.”
“And if I hadn’t let you keep me up watchin’ chick flicks, I’d be rested. That’s something I can deal with later. I got you to worry about right now.”
You shake your head; the ceramic hits the table with a sharp thud. “I don’t want you to worry about me.”
“Well,” Joel sniffs, “you’re carrying my child. I’ll always worry about you.”
You sit back, the curve of the chair cradling, your heart beating lamely against the wood. Joel’s jaw rests in the cushion of his palm, staring back at you.
“What time is it?” you ask, and he glances over his shoulder.
“Three. Take a sip.”
“I’m fine.”
“Sip.”
You obey, lifting the tea and swallowing harshly.
He watches every move, every shift reflected in his dark eyes, decorated by a tense, stony expression. “Does this happen a lot?”
“Never,” you say. “This never happens.”
Joel cranes his jaw, cracks his neck. “Alright,” he sighs, “that’s okay. Breathe again. You’re doing fine.”
But you don’t feel fine. The dregs of panic sizzle into something thicker, hotter. Anger. Frustration. “Why the fuck is this happening?” you hiss, fingers prodding into your eye sockets. “What the f–?”
“Easy. I don’t know. Hormones? Stress?”
“You sound like my fucking doctor.”
Joel smiles. Amusement, before concern wipes over it again. “Let’s just give it some time to pass, okay?”
You nod, hanging over your drink, the silhouette of your reflection staring back at you. The steam snakes up, seeping into your skin, bubbling under the surface. Wiping clean any memory of freeway or nail polish, like coating over a bathroom mirror. The shapes still visible behind, but blurred. Gone.
“How’s Vanessa?” you ask, an attempt to distract yourself.
Joel adjusts a little awkwardly in his chair. “She’s good. She loved the scan photo. Showed it to her sister. They’re sure it’s a boy.”
“Ha. Joel Jr.”
“Joel Jr.,” he agrees, and then attempts to distract himself. “So,” he says, “Allandale.”
“Mhm?”
“Wonder if I ever saw your mom or dad. When I was there visitin’ Sam.”
You shrug. “Doubt it. I mean, they always lived right next to the elementary school, if that helps. My mom was a first-grade teacher. The two of us used to walk there ‘n back together, every day.”
“First grade, huh? Best one.”
“Yeah. Yeah, and she was the best of the best. She used to go all out for her kids; used to go to Michaels and get all this crafty stuff so they could spend all afternoon making little houses or zoos, or – whatever she could think of. And she’d always keep some aside, bring some home for me to make one, too. One time, she came home with all this blue tissue paper and little foam fish, and we made an aquarium together.”
“That’s pretty cool,” Joel says.
“Yeah,” you say again, nodding eagerly. “She was so cool. And fun, y’know? I just remember her being so much fun. I always felt safe with her, felt loved. I actually used to think she hung the sun every morning, just for me.” You take a deep breath, replacing it with a broken sigh.
“What about your dad? What was he like?”
You frown. “He was…fine. Real quiet, reserved. A little grumpy, I guess. I always got the idea he couldn’t be bothered with me, young as I was. Always wanted to be left alone. I think my mom overcompensated a lot.”
Something flashes across Joel’s face that seems to say he knows – or, at least, he understands. Almost imperceptible, a quick flicker of annoyance. “You miss her?” he asks, switching back.
“My mom?” You almost laugh, gripping onto your mug. Staring at the slow swirl of ginger. A shrug which presents more like a flinch; an animal swatting a fly away. “I miss those parts, when I think of them. The aquarium, the walking to school. Miss the memories. But I don’t think I knew her well enough or long enough to miss her.
“I’ve lived way longer without her than I ever had her. Done everything without her, like –” gesturing down, “– this. But, sometimes…sometimes, I bundle the sheets up behind my back in bed, and I pretend it’s her. Pretend I have a mom, and she’s cuddling me to sleep. I dunno. Maybe that’s what missing her feels like.”
Joel soaks in every word you say, letting the shape of each one settle on the table between you before he speaks again. Letting them be spoken into the dead of night, collected by no one, and letting them fade into silence. Secrets sweeping off into starlight. Nothing you would admit in the daytime.
“What was her name?” he asks, voice timid and gentle in the dark kitchen.
You almost choke on your tea. “Shoot – I’m sorry. That was a lot. Sorry. She, uh – Her name?”
It brings the first genuine smile to your lips; the memory of your mom now clear behind your eyes. Her round cheeks, her fluttering earrings. The deep, dark curls of her hair, thick ringlets twisting and lighting in the sun. The gap between her front teeth, the purse of her lips as she kissed your cheeks, your hands, your tummy.
Her name like a melody in your head; a safe word, a calming mantra when the world becomes too noisy, too saturated, too sharp to bear. Two syllables. Two little beats, like a piece of her still lives in the sound of her name.
“Sarah,” you tell Joel. “Her name was Sarah.”
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clownsuu · 1 year
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Just a lil doodles smhhhh
cw: mentions of violence and distress. Also weapons-
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This is probably a good time to mention everyone’s jobs since I keep forgetting to mention it JDHDGDH
Wally: Da Boss (yeah no shid) he isn’t that merciful of a boss- can be very brutal with how relentless he can be and is a bit of a (non sus) sadistic a s s sometimes. Usually is playfully humorous initially, but can quickly go sour if he feels ever so slightly ticked. Preferred weapon: his eyes and his arms.
Barnaby: Body guard, boss’s left hand man, usually the one who talks for the boss. Sometimes he’s even seen as the “unofficial” boss of the whole group (which he likes to humor sometimes) but in the end he is possibly the most loyal out of everyone to Wally (man’s best friend after all). Preferred weapon is “da biggest gun we got!!!”
Howdy: Butler, bartender, boss’s right hand man. Will do basically everything anyone says (who’s part of the family) without question, however he will always take the Boss’s requests as main priority over the others. This will often keep him awake and exhausted, and a few new stitches to add to his collection. He has the lowest ability to think freely. Preferred weapon: Ice pick
Julie: Hitman A, interrogator, mad scientist really. Killing isn’t really too much of her thing, she prefers methodical planning and slow suffering with the use of chemicals and even random substances she can get her lil paws on. She’s not afraid to use anyone as a test subject, even if it’s her own members. preferred weapon: tranquilizers
Sally: Hitman B, intimidator, c h a o s. Almost the complete opposite to Julie. Absolutely chaotic and adores violent bloodshed to a point it’s theatrical. Usually is called if they don’t really need a clean kill. Can often be seen dancing and listening to music while on the job, often says it helps her focus (nobody really argues with it). Preferred weapon: anything blunt and/or violently loud (tasers, rocket launchers, fireworks) (sally is banned from using rocket launchers)
Poppy: Medic, crime scene cleanup, voice of reason, sometimes chef. She does ok when it comes to clean ups and stuff, however she has panic attacks and gets terrified when ever she hears screams of pain/torture, and freezes. Typically Howdy is there to help her snap out of it and help her complete her work, if not do her work for her. Everyone, even including the boss, is there to support her when she’s distressed (everyone would hug her except Wally. He does not like being touched unless it’s Howdy or Barnaby). Preferred weapon: n/a
Eddie: Messenger, delivery pick up/drop off, handler of the goods. He usually goes by himself, however after an incident where he lost his arm from a deal gone wrong, he is now required to leave with at least one of the hitmen (typically Sally). Very often does he get hurt in these trips and is usually always saved by Sally. Absolutely adores Frank for always trying to find the safest routes for him and wishes they had time together alone. Preferred weapon: a simple revolver
Frank: In charge of ordering goods, making contacts, being a voice of reason, basically just a manager. The most stressed member of the group. Rarely is he seen outside of the headquarters unless it’s to talk to well known individuals. He doesn’t usually talk to anyone besides Howdy (ranting at the bar about people), Eddie (telling him what he needs to get next), and Julie (normal convos and her asking him to order new chemicals for her next project). Every time Frank thinks he has an intimate moment together alone with Eddie, out of the blue Eddie would just randomly talk about how much he loves the family and how Wally is so amazing. The next day Frank asks him about it, it seems Eddie doesn’t remember what happened yesterday. Frank has the highest ability to think freely. Preferred weapon: a simple glock.
Home: Voice of reason. Preferred weapon: Wally
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alvojake · 27 days
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The Murder House | Pt. One
𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕/𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐 | 𝒑𝒕. 𝒐𝒏𝒆 | 𝒑𝒕. 𝒕𝒘𝒐 | 𝒑𝒕. 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆
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「synopsis」 : after waking up trapped in a room with a dead body, you are saved by none other than heeseung, but you're still left with questions. why were you and your friends trapped there, and who is behind it all? though it would seem that you won't be getting your answers very easily and definitely not without a few losses.
「word count」 : 10.2k
「genre」 : horror/thriller, gore, angst, psychological thriller, mystery
「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, blood, dead bodies, cussing, mentions of muder, mind games, drugging, mentions of mental health disorders (anxiety, panic attacks, etc...), jungwon is kinda reckless, lmk if I missed anything!
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It felt like time had slowed down, your fist starting to hurt from how hard you were banging on the wooden surface of the door. Tears were streaming down your face, and the bile in your stomach still threatened to arise at any given chance. You knew you should have never agreed to this stupid thing. You knew that something would happen, that it all wasn't just in the movies.
You just knew.
And now you were stuck in a place only god knows where with a dead man that you didn’t even know. The door seemed to be sealed shut, with no sign of opening. Your throat was starting to hurt from the yells you had been screaming for the past few moments, as well as the sobs that were racking your lungs.
Just as hope seems to dwindle, the knob suddenly twists, and the door flies open, causing you to stumble forward right into the person's chest. Quickly pulling away, your head tilts up to see who your savior has been.
“Oh my god, y/n?” Heeseung’s eyes grow wide as he quickly grabs your biceps, looking down at you with worry. He had been woken up by your banging, finding himself sprawled out on the couch that was in the lounge. 
“Heeseung? Where’s everyone else? Where’s Riki? What are we doing here?” You start shooting off questions left and right, not even leaving Heeseung a chance to answer anything. It was when you started to hyperventilate that he started to panic and tried to calm you down.
“Hey, y/n, calm down; you’re going to cause yourself to have a panic attack!” He tried to coax you into looking at him, but your eyes were everywhere but his.
“I… where… we—” You were starting to babble nonsense, fear clouding your pupils, and Heeseung was worried that if he let this continue, you would really have a panic attack. To be quite frank, he had no clue what to do if that happened. It was always Riki or Jay who dealt with your panic attacks, so he was completely in the dark.
Having you pass out from practically not breathing was not something he wanted to deal with, not on top of whatever the hell else there was in the rooms with them. Without too much of another thought, he grabbed your face, forcing your attention on him.
“Breathe, please.” He whispered softly, his warm breath fanning your face. Fresh tears prick at your eyes as you inhale deeply through your nose before letting out a shaky breath. Heeseung nodded before he finally took note of the crimson liquid that your pants and arms were covered in. 
“Are you hurt?” He tried to keep his voice steady despite the frantic worry that pooled in his gut. He had never in his life seen so much blood on a person before since that time that Jake sliced his hand open, trying to cut carrots in their dorm a few years back.
Your eyes followed him down to your hands hanging at your sides. The blood was starting to dry, turning it a rust color. Seeing it covering your skin makes your stomach turn once more, and you bite your tongue to keep the urge to throw up everything in your stomach at bay. Looking back up to meet Heeseung’s worry-filled one, you just shook your head, lips curling inward before pointing behind you. Your eyes stayed averted.
“There’s a…” You inhaled sharply when your eyes landed on the poor man’s body once more, bile creeping up your throat. Heeseung’s eyes grew wide once more as his own eyes sat upon the mutilated body that lay in the middle of the room.
Alarms were starting to sound in the older male's brain. This wasn’t some kind of twisted prank. No, there was something seriously wrong here. 
He pulled you into his chest, arms wrapping around your smaller frame. His hold was enough to ease your mind a tiny bit, so for that, you were thankful, but there were still so many questions that haunted your thoughts.
Heeseung's brain wasn’t too far off from yours; questions clouded his thoughts. However, one prominent question outweighed all of the others.
What the hell was happening?
~
After Heeseung shut the door and pulled you away from the door, you felt like you could finally breathe a little bit better. You had found a discarded rag that you deemed clean enough to wipe some of the blood from your skin.
You managed to get a pretty good amount off, but there was still some stuck in the creases of your knuckles and neck that you didn’t even know was there. There was even some blood stuck underneath your fingernails. How? You weren’t too sure.
The air around the two of you wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was not entirely comfortable, either. Tension was thick in the air, thick enough that you were sure you could cut it with a knife. You need to break it before it starts to drive you further into insanity.
However, before you could open your mouth to speak, Heeseung beat you to it. “Do you know who that is?”
You automatically shake your head, “No, I have no clue who that is.” 
“This has to be some kind of sick joke; I mean, why the hell would they lock us in here?” Heeseung scoffed, running his fingers through his hair. He knew deep down that this wasn’t a joke, that they were in actual danger.
“Wait,” Your ears perked at his words, hearts dropping to your stomach once more, “what do you mean lock? Are we locked in here?” 
“Yeah, there’s some weird ass pattern lock on the door,” Heeseung says as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
Panic started to arise in your gut once more, and you shot out of your seat, making a beeline for the door. Your eyes landed on the weird keypad that displayed a pattern lock, just as Heeseung had said. Your hands wrap around the door knob hoping by some miracle that the door would just open, but it didn’t budge. Of course, it didn’t budge.
Your heart started racing as you ditched your attempts at opening the door and started banging on the wooden surface, much like you did with the other room. The sound of your fist hitting the door reverberated around the room and Heeseung stood from his seat with a sigh.
“Jay! Riki! Is anyone out there? We’re locked in here and need help!” You started shouting, hoping that anyone on the other side would hear you and come help. Though there was no one out there to hear you, let alone help you.
Heeseung walked over to you and grabbed your wrist just as you were about to hit the door once again. " You need to calm down. There isn’t anyone out there, and you’re just wasting time.” He didn’t necessarily mean for his words to come out harsh, but he knew that your senseless screaming wasn’t going to help them in any way, shape, or form.
“Wasting my time? My fucking brother is out there, probably just as confused, not to mention our friends. How can you just sit here and do nothing?” You shouted at the taller male, and he took a half step back, shocked by your outburst. 
However, his eyes narrowed into slits, “Nothing? I’m not doing nothing, y/n; we are fucking trapped in here without a fucking clue as to what we need to do. Yet you’re banging on the damn door, hoping someone will come and help us, but guess what? The only person that will save us is ourselves, there is no one out there!” He seethed causing you to flinch slightly. Noticing this Heeseung let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, “we just need to calm down and look around for any clues, okay?”
You knew he was right, there wasn’t going to be some knight in shining armor that would swoop in and save you. No, it was just you and Heeseung.
“This is so fucked up.” You grumbled, arms wrapping around your body.
And it was all fucked up. You were in some unknown house with your little brother and friends. You were all clueless; nothing was making any kind of sense to you, and it was making your head hurt. What you do know though that whoever is behind this is some sick and twisted douchebag who was probably enjoying watching them all struggle.
“It is.” Heeseung agrees before looking over the room. Why don’t you go look through that cabinet, and I’ll search the bookshelf over there?” You nod, agreeing.
So that’s what you both spent the next few moments searching through a multitude of different papers and anything else that had been shoved in the cabinet. Frustration then started to bubble in your chest when you realized that you weren’t getting anywhere. The only thing you found that was any sort of ‘good’ was a background check on the dead guy in the other room.
Seo Wonsik – a twenty-seven-year-old male who was on the government's blacklist because of the countless times he tried and succeeded in hacking their system. 
‘What the hell was a hacker doing here? And what did he do to be killed so brutally?’ Your eyebrows scrunched together as you tried to piece together any of the pieces you had but were left with nothing.
Heeseung had practically stripped the bookcase bare, books scattered all across the floor as well as the decor that was sitting on the shelves. He bit the inside of his cheek, his jaw clenching about, ready to move on to the next area. That’s when he saw something peeking from the ledge of the top shelf. 
Reaching up, his fingertips brushed against the object, trying to move it so he could get a good grip on it. He kicked the books by his feet away, standing flush with the shelf before reaching up once more. This time, he was able to grab it enough to pull it down.
Once he had it in his hands, he took a step away from the bookshelf before looking down to see what it was. His brow furrows in confusion once he sees that it is an envelope, much like the one that was on the coffee table when they first got inside. He then looks over at you, watching as you throw yet another useless file on the ground. 
Hitting the envelope against his palm, he starts walking over to you, “Have you found anything?”
His voice pulled you out of your head, and you stopped moving papers to look over at him. You shook your head with a sigh before pointing to the one paper you had set aside.
“Not really, but I found out who that guy is.” You then explained all of the information that you had found out, and Heeseung just nodded, trying to think of why a hacker would be here, of all places.
“Maybe he helped set this whole thing up?” Heeseung suggested but quickly shook his head, “but why would they kill him?”
“I don’t know. Maybe they got what they needed?” It wasn't completely illogical; you had seen it happen on multiple crime shows. Then you noticed the envelope in his hand. " Did you find something?”
“Yeah, this was on top of the bookshelf.” He holds the envelope up, letting you see the wax seal on the front. " It’s just like the one from the lounge.”
You agreed before looking over at the shelf that Heeseung was just at, seeing that he had taken almost every book off. Just then, you noticed something on the ceiling, and rage burned bright in your veins.
A small camera, almost invisible, was stuck in the far corner of the room. They were watching you, just like you had thought they would. Moving past Heeseung, you started shouting curses at the device, nearly tripping over the scattered books.
“You’re getting a kick out of this, aren’t you, you sick fuck!” You shouted, pointing at the camera, anger blinding you, “I hope you rot in fucking hell, asshole!”
“Y/n! Focus, please.” Heeseung groaned, wrapping a hand around your arm to pull you away. You looked over at him before turning back to the camera one last time to flip the device the middle finger.
The two of you move over to the couch once more, but neither of you takes a seat. Heeseung breaks the wax seal and pulls the paper out of it. Tossing the envelope to the ground he unfolds the paper before moving over so the both of you could read it.
Welcome to your first room! The first room is always the easiest so you shouldn’t have too hard of a time getting out, but be careful, you could still bite the dust! Let’s get the ball rollin’, shall we? Here’s your first clue! — ‘What lies still and silent, yet whispers the answer you seek?’
You blink a few times, trying to process what you have just read. A sense of dread hits you like frigid water has just been splashed on you. It was a riddle and a weird one at that. Biting at your nails, you look around the room, seeing another cabinet.
Though you were sure that wasn’t what the riddle was leading to, you needed to find something, so you made a beeline for the cabinet. Swinging the drawers open, you rummaged through all of the papers.
Heeseung stands in the same spot, repeating the riddle to himself in a quiet whisper, trying to make sense of it.
“Lies still and silent, yet whispers the answer you seek…” His eyes search around the room, “still and silent. Still and silent. Still and-” That’s when it hit him. Could it be talking about the body in the other room? It was something that would normally be mobile yet lies still and silent.
Heeseung laid the paper down on the table before calling out your name, catching your attention. You tear your gaze away from some contract paper, eyes meeting Heeseung’s.
“The riddle, it’s talking about the body.” He points towards the door that holds the dead man. Your stomach instantly turned, and the bile returned to creep up your throat.
“No. Nuh-uh. No way. I am not going anywhere near that.” You started to freak out once more, shaking your head violently. Heeseung took quick strides towards you, his annoyance was evident in his features.
“God dammit, y/n!” He grabbed your arms, fingers digging softly into your skin as he shook you slightly, “do you want to get out here?” You looked up at him with wide eyes, nodding, “then suck it the fuck up and help me find the damn clues.”
Tears involuntarily pooled in your eyes. Heeseung had never shouted at you, never. He didn’t want to be mean, but if it was the only way to get you to listen, then that’s what he was going to do, and he would apologize later.
“All of this is so inhumane.” You spoke with a shaky voice, trying to keep the tears from spilling over.
“Yeah, and that’s why we’re going to get out of here. Alive.” Heeseung ran his fingers through his hair as he backed away from you, “come on.” He held his hand out to you, and with some hesitation, you placed your smaller hand into his.
Heeseung took your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours before pulling you towards the door. As the distance grew shorter, your heart started to race, and a cold chill ran down your spine.
Pushing the door open, the older male pulled you behind him until you were standing before the body once again. You averted your eyes just as quickly as you looked at him, bile burning in the back of your throat and tears stinging in the corner of your eyes.
Heeseung pulled his hand out of yours and crouched down, his hand covering his nose as the putrid smell engulfed his senses.
“Oh god…” He groaned as he reached forward to move the jacket; tears started to brim his eyes from the smell. His hands shook as he started to search for any kind of clue, praying that he was right and you guys weren’t doing this for nothing.
You stood there shell-shocked as you watched Heeseung search the man, blood slowly staining his skin. It took all of your willpower to keep your feet planted and not make a run for the other room, wanting to be anywhere but here. Heeseung notices you still standing in the same spot from the corner of his eye.
“Check his pockets.” He motions to the man’s pants, his eyes flickering over to you for a moment before going back to patting the man’s upper half down.
You slowly move down to your knees, staining your pants in blood once more. Tears were flowing down your cheeks silently as you reached for the man’s pockets, your hands shaking uncontrollably.
The room grew silent. The only sound was clothes rustling and your quiet sniffles. You had searched the man’s pockets but came up with nothing, so you moved on to just checking his legs and shoes. The putrid smell was starting to make both of you dizzy, and you were sure you would have thrown up your stomach contents if there was anything there.
“Found it!” Heeseung exclaimed, holding up a piece of paper he had found in a secret pocket of the man's jacket. His outburst made you nearly jump out of your skin, eyes wide as you looked over at him.
He started unfolding it so he could read it, but then you noticed something in the man’s hand. As he starts to read, you reach over, pulling the object from his clasped fingers.
“Heeseung…” You called out the boy’s name, terror shaking your voice. Holding up the bracelet, you looked over to meet Heeseung’s eyes, and by the look on his face, he recognized it. You knew who this belonged to, seeing as it was a handmade gift from Jake.
Heeseung takes the piece of jewelry with wide eyes, inspecting it closely. — “This is Sunghoon’s.”
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Jay’s eyes slowly fluttered open, and a groan fell from his lips. The bright overhead light burned his eyes as he tried to let his vision focus. He could have sworn that the electric buzzing of the lights would cause him to go deaf from how loud it was. 
Blinking a few times, he looked around the room with scrunched eyebrows. Where was he because this definitely was not his bedroom or any other room he recognizes. 
Then, all of the previous events hit him like a ton of bricks. The scene of all of his friends slowly passing out until his own vision went black. 
Sitting up quickly, he groaned, his head pounding from the sudden movement. Once the pain dulled down, he further inspected the room before he found Jungwon sprawled out in the recliner off to his right. His mouth was parted slightly as drool dribbled from the corner of his lips, causing Jay to cringe at the sight.
“Jungwon,” Jay calls out, nudging the boy’s knee, but he shows no response. Rolling his eyes, Jay stands to his feet, allowing himself to catch his balance before walking over to the sleeping boy. Jay reached out and shook Jungwon’s shoulders, but the only kind of response that he got was gibberish, and the boy moved away from Jay’s hands. 
“Of all people to get stuck with, it was him.” He grumbled, breathing through his nose, and his jaw tightened before he hit the side of Jungwon’s thigh with a firm smack, causing the boy to wake up with a yelp. He looks up at Jay with wide eyes, a mixture of confusion and shock clouding his pupils. Jungwon sat up, asking Jay what he had done that for, and Jay just scoffed.
“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty, we don’t have all day,” Jay told him, annoyance evident in his tone.
“What do you mean? What’s going on?” Jungwon asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his mind still very much in a daze. For whatever reason, the events leading up to now were foggy; he couldn’t quite place what had happened besides that they were going to some haunted escape room.
“Well, for starters, I’m pretty sure we were drugged,” Jay explains as his eyes search the room, missing the expression that settled on Jungwon’s face.
Jungwon blinked a few times, trying to process what had just been said to him. He thought that Jay must have gone insane, or this was all just some huge prank they were pulling on him because there was no way that they all had been drugged. Yeah, that had to be it. This was all just a screwed-up joke.
“Ha ha ha, very funny, you almost had me. Where’s the cameras?” Jungwon burst out laughing, wiping fake tears from the corner of his eyes. His eyes scanned the room, trying to find any kind of hidden camera, waiting for the others to pop out at any moment.
Jay looks at him with a pointed gaze, completely unamused, and arms crossed over his chest. Not a single word left his lips, but the expression on his face was enough to tell Jungwon that he was, in fact, not joking around. His amused laughter slowly died down into a nervous chuckle as he realized the severity of the situation.
A cold chill ran down his spine at the thought of all of them being drugged, but he couldn't figure out why. They hadn’t done anything to upset anyone. You all did your own thing but none of them warnented for someone to do this.
Jungwon then remembered that he had his phone in his pocket. “Wait, we can just call the others!” he exclaimed, standing abruptly while the older of the two rolled his eyes.
While Jungwon started to pat down his pockets, searching for his phone, Jay made his way over to the door. He took note of the keypad that sat underneath the doorknob; the numbers lit dimly, but what really caught his attention was the outlines ‘x’s, which probably meant that they only had three tries to get the correct answer.
“Where’s my phone? I swear it was in my pocket.” Jungwon started to freak out, stripping the recliner in search of the device. He started to feel his heart racing underneath his ribcage; there was no way that his phone was just gone.
Jay pinches the bridge of his nose, stands straight, and turns towards the younger male, explaining that whoever drugged them probably took their phones, too. Jungwon, however, just stands there like a clueless cat.
“Have you never seen any horror movies?” Jay asked, raising an eyebrow, his annoyance level gradually rising.
“No, they're too scary.”
Jay scoffs, “again, of all people to stick with me.” He ran his fingers through his hair, eyes trained on the ceiling. “Alright, listen, the door is locked with a keypad. However, I think we only get three chances to guess it correctly.”
“What happens if we guess wrong all three times?” Jungwon asks wearily, not entirely sure he wants to know the answer, though deep down, he knows what it means.
“I don’t know, but I don’t think it’ll be anything good, and I definitely don’t wanna find out either.” Jay was sure that it didn’t mean anything good for them, but then again, this whole situation wasn’t good.
The room then grew silent, both boys lost in their own thoughts, trying to make sense of anything. Jay continued to search the room with his eyes, trying to see if anything stood out. There were a few paintings hanging on the walls; the only one that stood out the most was one with a tree, but the leaves were four different colors, almost like an abstract ombre. Brushing it off as a weird taste in art, he moved on. Then a small red flash in the corner of the room caught his eye, looking over he saw a small camera hidden in the far corner of the room.
“They’re watching us,” Jay stated, catching Jungwon’s attention, who had just picked up an envelope that he saw stashed under some paper on the coffee table.
A chill ran down the younger’s spine at the revelation that someone was just watching them as if they were in some kind of TV show. With shaky hands, he tore the envelope open, which only grabbed Jay’s attention. Looking over, he saw the paper and snatched it out of the boy's hands because he wasn’t sure he could trust Jungwon to comprehend any of what had been written inside.
“Hey!” Jungwon jumps, looking at the older male with wide eyes. "You can’t just snatch things out of people's hands!” He complains, but Jay ignores him. Seeing as Jay is going to ignore him, Jungwon watches as Jay fully unfolds the page before his eyes scan over the words. His anxiety levels spike the longer Jay stays quiet.
Finishing reading, Jay could only scoff, eyes flickering away from the page. He could feel his heartbeat ringing in his ears, dread flooding his veins. Jungwon steps closer, worried that something was completely wrong as if the whole situation wasn’t wrong. Trying to look at the paper, Jungwon’s eyes flickered up to Jay’s, asking what was wrong.
“We’re trapped in here.”
“Obviously,” Jungwon said nonchalantly, his hands stuffed in the front pocket of his hoodie. Jay, however, sent a deadly glare at the younger boy, causing him to chuckle nervously. Averting his gaze, he said, “Sorry.”
“Pretty much this is the first room, and the severity will only grow as we go.” Jay started to explain, both boys growing uneasy, “It also says that if we guess the code wrong three times, we’re out.”
Jungwon’s blood ran cold, and fear clouded his senses. The words were far too cryptic for his liking. Everything about this was cryptic, and it only left him questioning things more.
“What does that even mean?” Jungwon’s brow scrunched together, thinking of the multiple possibilities it could mean. Not a single one of them was very good.
“I have no idea, I’m just as clueless as you, and this is literally the most cryptic shit I’ve ever read in my life.” Jay seethed, tossing the paper down on the coffee table, irritated. “We need to look for clues.”
“Did it at least give us any leads?” Jungwon asked, pulling his hands out of his pockets and pointing back at the paper that Jay had just thrown down.
“Let the colors guide you. Whatever the hell that means,” Jay told him, stepping away from the table. Let’s just look around the room and see if we find anything.” Jungwon nodded before moving to the side of the room where a shelf stood.
~
The two of them then spent the next few grueling moments searching through all the cabinets and shelves for anything that might be useful. Neither of them seemed to have found anything, though, which only further fed their irritation.
Searching through yet another filing cabinet, Jungwon opened the bottom drawer and was met with four big numbers on a page. His eyes lit up as he made a loud noise of excitement, scaring Jay, who stood on the other side of the room.
“I found it!” He shouted before scrambling to his feet and making a beeline for the door. Jay’s eyes went wide as he watched the boy start typing in numbers before he could even get a chance to stop him.
Jay rushed over to the younger male, pulling him away from the door just as a loud buzzer sounded in the room.
“Incorrect code. Two chances remaining.”
“What the hell, dude?! You can’t just fucking throw numbers on there and hope they work!” Jay hissed, eyes narrowed into slits, “We don’t have all the chance in the world, so stop being so reckless.”
A small pout adorns Jungwon’s lips as he stares up at Jay, “I was sure it would work, look.” He holds the newspaper up, and Jay’s ears start to burn a bright red before he snatches the paper out of his hands.
“This is the fucking year, you dumbass!” Jay reprimanded the poor boy and turned the paper back around so Jungwon was looking at it. However, on the back of the page Jay noticed that something was highlighted in blue ink. Upon closer inspection he realized that it was a number highlighted. Jay then quickly turned around, looking for a piece of paper that he could write on, confusing Jungwon.
“What are you doing?”
Jay stopped his movements to look at the boy, “I'm trying to find something to write on. Stop lollygagging, and help me find a pen or something.”
Remembering that, he saw a pen in one of the filing cabinets, so he moved back over to them, searching through the drawers once more. Once the pen was in hand, he walked over to Jay, who had found a stray notepad. Jungwon watched the man in confusion as Jay took the pen and wrote down the number.
‘Five’
He then set the notepad and pen down on the coffee table next to the newspaper before standing straight. Jungwon glanced down at the table before his eyes flickered back over to Jay, waiting for him to say something.
“Look for anything with a highlighted number. My guess is there are three other numbers.” Jay instructed Jungwon, who was softly chewing on the skin of his lip but nodded nonetheless.
While Jay returned to his original side of the room, Jungwon went back to the filing cabinets to recheck everything in case he had overlooked any highlighted numbers.
Once he deemed the filing cabinets clear, Jungwon moved to the dresser in the far corner of the room. Pulling open the first drawer, he felt his stomach turn, and bile crept up the back of his throat. There, sitting on top of another paper, was a photograph, one he was sure he had seen before.
“Jay…” Jungwon called out to the older male. Swallowing thickly, he turned to meet Jay’s awaiting gaze. He then held up the photo with a shaky hand, “Isn’t this y/n and Riki?”
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Heeseung swallows thickly, trying to get the lump that had formed in his throat to go down before pocketing the bracelet. You just watched him, not sure what to make of it all. Did Sunghoon have anything to do with this? Was he the one who killed this man? Questions started to arise, but Heeseung quickly snapped you out of it with a cough.
“Let’s not jump to any conclusions right now, okay?” His voice was soft, almost as if he was trying more to convince himself than you, but you nodded slowly nonetheless. " Let’s just focus on getting out of here for right now.”
He stood up and made his way back into the other room, leaving you sitting there staring at the spot he had once been. Even though you knew he was right and you shouldn’t jump to conclusions, you couldn’t help but try to think if Sunghoon showed any suspicious behavior, but the only thing you could think of was that he had started to distance himself from the rest of the group. You had thought that it was just because he had a competition coming up and it wasn’t anything new if he did distance himself, claiming that he needed to keep his head clear.
“Y/n.” Heeseung called out to you causing your head to snap in his direction, breaking your thoughts. He motions for you to come join him, so you slowly climb to your feet, ignoring the way your knees groaned in protest or how you left bloody footprints in your wake.
The both of you take a seat on the couch, looking at the paper that Heeseung had found. Your eyebrows scrunched together as you looked at the dots. However, the bottom left dot was drawn in red. Then you remember that Heeseung had said that the lock on the door was some kind of pattern, so this is probably one of the spots.
“You said the lock was one of those pattern locks, right?” You asked, causing the older male to look at you before looking over at the door and nodding.
“Yeah, and we only get three tries.”
You looked up from the paper in your hand, mouth suddenly dry, “what happens if we guess wrong all three times?” The first thought that popped into your head was that the two of you would die.
“I don’t know, but I doubt that it’ll be anything good.” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. He was sure he had a good idea of what would happen, but he wasn’t going to tell you and run the risk of you freaking out again.
“We’d die, wouldn’t we?” you asked, your voice quivering slightly as fear washed over your body once more. Heeseung didn’t say a word, nor did he meet your eyes, which gave you your answer, one that you already knew but dreaded to hear. The air around you both grew silent and tense. It made you uneasy. You were not entirely sure why, but you needed to break it. “Do you think the others got similar puzzles or whatever?”
Heeseung looked over at you as if you had just pulled him from his thoughts. He let out a breath, “I wouldn’t doubt it.” The male then abruptly stood to his feet, causing you to jump slightly. " Come on, we still have more pieces to find.”
So that’s exactly what the two of you go back to doing, tearing the room apart from top to bottom, finding the rest of the pattern. Following the riddles that had been written on the back of each one before too long, you were working on finding the last one.
Neither of you was sure how much time had passed since you had woken up, but that didn’t linger in your minds for very long as Heeseung called for you once again. Looking over, he showed you the paper with the same dots once more.
“Are we sure that this is the last one?” You asked hesitantly, sitting down next to the dark-haired male.
Heeseung laid all of the pages out on the coffee table before looking over at you. "It has to be; there is nothing written on the back like the others.”
“Okay.” You bite your bottom lip before looking down at the pages. Do you think the pattern would be the order we found them in?” 
“That’s too easy.” Heeseung shook his head before covering the lower half of his face with his hand, deep in thought. He wasn’t even sure where to begin looking for the order. Was there some kind of indicator? A number, maybe? No, that’d be too easy. Maybe it was the order that they found them in, but he wasn’t going to risk trying that, and it would be wrong.
You then suddenly sat up straight, causing Heeseung to jump slightly, his eyes flickering over to you. It took you a few moments, but you noticed that there were shapes in the bottom corner of the pages, each shape different.
“There’s a different shape at the bottom of each page.” You started to explain, pointing to each shape. Heeseung, however, looked like a deer caught in the headlights, confused and completely lost as to where you were going. Noticing that you had lost him, you let out a sigh before scooting closer to the edge of the couch. “The number of sides on the shape is probably the order that they go in; see, the lowest is the line because it really only has one side, obviously.” You point to the page that had the line on it before pointing to the page with a hexagon, “Then this one would be the last one because there are only six pages.”
Heeseung made an ‘oh’ face when he finally understood what you were trying to say. He then leaned forward, grabbing the page with a triangle on it. " So this would be the third one?”
You nodded, leaning forward to see all of the shapes that had been put on the pages. Digon, hexagon, line, pentagon, triangle, and square. The two of you took the next few moments to put them all in the correct order.
A smile tugged on your lips as Heeseung laid the last page in its correct place. You had figured it out, and you were going to get out of here. Heeseung met your smile with one of his own before the two of you stood and made a beeline for the door. Eager to get out, Heeseung drops down to his knees in front of the lock, tapping the screen and causing it to light up. He reaches out to start the pattern but stops short and looks back at you with a sheepish smile.
“I forgot…” He chuckles, and you roll your eyes, telling him to move out of the way, which he quickly does.
Taking his place, you inhale deeply, trying to calm your nerves. You were 99% sure that you had the correct code but couldn’t help but feel worried. Shaking your head softly, you reach out and enter the pattern, just like the sheets laid out.
When you were finished, you moved back, a bit worried that it was wrong because nothing had happened. A cold chill ran down your spine at the thought of having to backtrack and figure out the code once more. Then the screen turned bright green, and the sound of the lock turning allowed a sense of relief to wash over you.
“We did it!” You jump up with a wide smile, throwing your arms around Heeseung, which surprised the boy, but he returned it nonetheless. He was relieved to finally be out of the room, ready to go find the other so you all could make it out of this hellhole. Alive.
“Come on,” Heeseung pulled away, looking down at you with a soft smile, “let’s go find the others.”
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Between Jay and Jungwon, they had managed to find three out of the four numbers. Jay was surprised that they even made it this far. He was sure that if the room didn’t kill them, Jungwon would with how reckless he was. He kept trying to just enter whatever code he thought was correct, but thankfully, Jay had stopped him every time. It just didn’t seem to click in his head that they could die if they ran out of chances.
“I found it!” Jungwon exclaimed, and Jay quickly turned around just in case he needed to grab the younger boy once more. However, Jungwon didn’t make a move towards the door but rather walked over to Jay.
“Lemme see that.” Jay held a hand out and Jungwon placed the paper in his hand, watching as the older male inspected the paper. Jay’s eyes caught the number at the bottom of the page, highlighted in purple.
‘One.’
They walked over to the coffee table, and Jay sat the paper with the others, jotting down the number on the notepad. He then sat down, comparing the numbers, trying to figure out if they correlated with anything. Then, the dilemma of their order popped into his head, and he groaned, running his fingers through his hair.
“What’s wrong?” Jungwon asked, moving over to take the empty seat next to the silver-haired male. Jay tosses the notepad down on the table before looking over at Jungwon telling him that they still have to figure out what order they go in.
“And before you ask, no, we can not just randomly guess.” Jay quips, glaring at the younger boy, who raises his hands in defense. 
Jungwon then grabbed the papers with the highlighted numbers, spreading them out. His eyes went wide, and he grabbed Jay’s attention by hitting his arm: “Hey, the colors are different!”
“What are you talking about?” Jay rolls his eyes before leaning forward to look at the papers.
“Look, each number is highlighted with a different color.” He pointed to each page, and they were, in fact, highlighted in different colors.
Jay’s eyebrows scrunch together as he tries to make sense of it. Why colors and what order do they go in? The rainbow, maybe? Or was it lightest to darkest? There were far too many possibilities, and Jay wasn’t going to risk entering the wrong code. They only had two tries left after Jungwon screwed up the first time.
“This might be a stretch, but don't the trees' leaves match the colors?” Jungwon voiced out, snapping Jay out of his thoughts. He looked at what Jungwon had been pointing to, seeing the strange painting that he had seen earlier, and weirdly enough… the colors did match.
Without saying a word Jay grabbed the papers, placing them in the same order as the tree leaves. Jungwon just sat there quietly, eyes scanning the numbers when Jay finished.
‘8501’
The two of them looked at each other for a moment before standing and quickly walking over to the door. Jay crouched down so he was face-to-face with the keypad, tapping it so the screen lit up. Jungwon leaned over Jay’s shoulder, watching him intently, not realizing just how close he was. His warm breath washed over the back of Jay’s neck, distracting him.
Jay closed his eyes, letting out a huff, before turning his head to glare at the other boy. Jungwon’s breath hitched in his throat, so he backed away and gave Jay a quick apology.
Once he was sure that the distraction was gone, Jay turned back to the keypad and entered the numbers in the order of the colors. After he finished, the screen just turned black, causing both boys’ hearts to drop.
Just as Jay was about to back up and suggest they look for another solution, the keypad flashed green, and the lock turned. Standing quickly, the silver-haired male looked back at Jungwon with wide eyes, who looked just as shocked.
Reaching out, Jay grabbed the doorknob, turned it, and pulled the door open. Once the door was fully open, he turned back towards Jungwon, “Now let’s go find our friends.”
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Walking down the dimly lit hallway made you wish that you had grabbed a candle or something from the room. It wasn’t that it was too dark to see anything because you could. No, it was because it left an eerie feeling in your gut. Like there was something lurking in the shadows, and to be honest, you wouldn’t be too surprised if there was.
Between you and Heeseung, you have checked just about every door that was in the conspicuously long hallway, but every single one of them was locked. No sound was heard except for the occasional rattle of a doorknob and your footsteps that seemed to echo in the empty hall. When you got to the end of the hall, you noticed that it turned, but there was still another door to check.
“You check that door, I'mma go look down this hall.” You whispered, and Heeseung nodded before turning and walking towards the door. You then turned your head back around just as you rounded the corner, but not quick enough to stop yourself from running into something.
A scream erupted from your lungs as you scrambled to get back, almost tripping over your own feet. Heeseung nearly jumped out of his skin when your scream echoed down the hall, and he was quick to rush over to make sure you were okay.
“Hey, hey, y/n, it's just me.” You looked up with wide eyes, seeing that what you had run into wasn't something but rather someone. Heeseung let out a relieved sigh when he caught sight of Sunghoon.
Letting out a groan, you reach forward, smacking the male’s arm, “good god Sunghoon, you scared the shit outta me!” You exclaimed, running your fingers through your hair trying to will your heart to slow so it wouldn’t burst right out of your chest.
Heeseung laid his hand on your upper back, asking if you were okay, and you nodded, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. He kept his hand there as he looked back over at Sunghoon, whose eyes were narrowed in on you, and for some reason, it left the older male feeling uneasy.
“Is it just you?” Heeseung asked, pulling the younger's attention away from you.
Sunghoon shook his head, pointing over his shoulder. “No, Sunoo is in a room we found back there.” His eyes flickered back to you as you straightened your body, eyes meeting his. Come on, I’ll take you. Is it just you guys?”
You nod, following after the taller male Heeseung not too far behind you, “yeah, we haven’t found anyone else yet.”
Sunghoon nods before stopping in front of a door, opening it, and letting you and Heeseung walk in. Inside, Sunoo is standing at the desk, looking down at some papers that were left, trying to see if they have anything worth it. Of course, they are useless, much like any other paper they have found. The sigh he had started to let out is caught in his throat as soon as he hears the door opening.
Turning around, the fear and tension in his shoulders dissipated, and a bright smile formed on his lips as he watched you and Heeseung walk into the room. You returned his smile with one of your own before walking over to join him while Heeseung stayed back, looking over at Sunghoon.
“Was it just the two of you?” Heeseung crossed his arms over his chest as the question slipped past his lips, his eyes staying on you and Sunoo.
Sunghoon glances at the older male, not missing the unease that was written all over his face, his jaw tight. “Yeah, it was just us.” Sunghoon starts, his gaze flickering over to you and Sunoo, watching as Sunoo points to something on one of the papers. “We woke up in a room that was on the complete opposite side of where I found you guys.”
Heeseung glanced at Sunghoon for a moment before he heard a gasp from Sunoo, his head whipping back around, worried something was wrong.
“Oh my god, are you bleeding?!” Sunoo exclaims as he grabs ahold of your arms to check you over for any injuries.
You stood there confused for a moment before looking down and catching a glimpse of your blood-stained clothes. During the commotion of getting out of the room, you had forgotten that you were covered in blood. A shiver runs through your body as you recall the dead man from the other room, and your stomach turns once more.
“No, it’s…” You swallow thickly, heat rushing up your neck to paint your face a deep shade of red, “it’s not mine.” Sunoo just looked at you, puzzled, until you started to explain how you woke up in a room with a dead body and how you’ve come to be covered in his blood.
Sunoo’s eyes went wide. He asked if you were okay, and you just gave me a soft smile, reassuring him that besides being traumatized, you were fine. Sunghoon then asked if you had known the man as he and Heeseung walked over to the two of you.
“No, I have no idea who he is, but I found a background check on him, and I think he worked for whoever is behind all of this.” You explain, eyes flickering over to the taller male recalling the bracelet that they had found, “We did find-”
You were cut short by the sound of a doorknob rattling on the other side of the room. Heeseung quickly grabbed you, pulling you behind him as his eyes shot to the door. Your heart dropped as fear slithered its way into your mind, once more scared that something bad was going to happen.
The door swung open, revealing Jay and Jake, who looked at the other four in the room with wide eyes. They weren’t sure what to expect on the other side of the door, but seeing their friends was definitely not on top of their list. However, they were happy to see you guys nonetheless. 
You peeked around Heeseung, trying to see who it was, and your eyes went wide. Before Heeseung even had the chance to stop you, you darted from your spot, latching yourself right onto Jay, arms encasing his waist.
“Y/n? Oh, thank god.” Jay breathed out, wrapping his arms around your smaller frame, missing the cold glare the two of you were receiving.
You then pull away, looking up at him, worry etched in your features. “Where’s Riki?” The fear fuels the thoughts in your head that your brother isn’t with them and is still out there somewhere. Noticing the look in your eyes, Jay flashes you a small smile, his hand resting on top of your head.
However, before he could open his mouth to tell you that your brother was just behind them, the boy walked through the door, looking around. You detach yourself from Jay and rush over to Riki, grabbing his arms and causing him to jump slightly.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” You started throwing questions at the boy left and right as you checked him over. Riki smiles at you, grabbing your hands and squeezing slightly.
“Y/n, I’m fine, I promise.” He reassures you, his eyes racking over your body, noticing the blood stains all over your clothes. “Are you okay though?” 
You miss the slight twitch of a smirk on the younger boy's lips as you look down at yourself. “I’m fine, just shaken up. Are you sure you’re okay?” You look back up at him, eyes gleaming with worry. “I was so worried.” You place your hand on his cheek, and he grabs your wrist, pulling it away with a small grimace, telling you once more that he is okay.
“Hate to break up this cute sibling moment, but Sunoo found another letter or whatever.” Sunghoon clears his throat, catching all of your attention, pointing over to the blonde who was holding up an envelope. Everyone then moved to the center of the room, where an armchair and a small table sat. Once everyone was pretty much huddled in a small circle, Sunoo unfolded the paper and started reading it aloud.
‘Congratulations! You’ve survived the first room, not that it was too hard right? Now, don’t get too hopeful, as the next room you’ll be in won’t be as forgiving. Enjoy your small break and good luck on making it out alive!’
No one says a word, the tension in the room growing thicker as the words sink in. A chill ran down your spine at the thought of one of your friends or even your brother not making it out. Jay puts a reassuring hand on your shoulder, thoughts of his own flooding his mind. 
“Shouldn’t we like look for any kind of clues while we’re in here?” Jungwon spoke up, pulling his hand away from his lips seeing as he had been chewing on the loose skin around his nails.
Everyone agrees before doing exactly that, splitting off either on their own or in pairs. Jungwon and Sunoo make their way back to the desk where the blonde had been moments ago. You walk over to one of the bookshelves on the far side of the room, skimming through the books. Jay follows Heeseung to another bookshelf that isn’t too far from where you are. Riki and Jake move to the far corner of the room, talking amongst themselves, eyes flickering over to the others for a moment before turning back. Sunghoon then sits down in the armchair, his chin resting on his fist as he props it up on the armrest. His eyes looked distant, as if he wasn’t fully there, lost in his own little world.
Looking through the bookshelf, you couldn’t help but notice how Sunghoon hadn’t moved from the chair, his eyes now flickering from group to group, watching them all with an unreadable expression. Your mind then trailed back to the bracelet that you had found on the body. You didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but he wasn’t helping ease your mind, not even a little bit. You wanted to believe that he had nothing to do with this, that it was all just one huge misunderstanding, but the bracelet was one of a kind; there was no way someone could just get another one.
Glancing at the dark-haired male once more, you let out a sigh before making your way over to Sunoo and Jungwon. As you got closer, the two boys noticed you and nodded in acknowledgment.
“Hey, Sunoo, quick question.” You speak quietly, not wanting to alert the male who is sitting not even five feet away. “Was Sunghoon like that in the other room?”
Sunoo glances over at Sunghoon, whose eyes are currently on Jay and Heeseung, “I mean, he was pretty standoffish, but he still helped look around for the clues.” He looked back at you, his eyebrows scrunched together.
Nodding your head slowly, you then look down at the papers he was holding, “Have you guys found anything?”
“Besides a bunch of useless documents, no.” He sighs, tossing the pages back down on the desk causing Jungwon to look over for a moment. You give him a tight smile before patting his shoulder and turning to walk away.
Making your way over to Jay and Heeseung, you felt eyes on you. Looking over, you caught Jake staring. Realizing that he got caught, he flashed you a smile, which you returned before walking over to Jay. The smile that adorned the male's face dropped once he saw how close you were standing to Jay. His jaw clenched tightly before looking back at Riki, who had asked him something.
You stood between Jay and Heeseung, listening to them talk about a book title that they had seen before you tapped both of their arms, causing them both to jump slightly. Seeing that it was you, Jay subconsciously moved closer to you while Heeseung turned his attention to you.
“I really don’t want to jump to conclusions, but Sunghoon has been acting weird.” You spoke softly, biting your bottom lip, and both boys peeked over at the younger male.
“A lot has happened in such a short amount of time,” Jay told you as he turned back towards you, “I’m surprised that the rest of us are even looking; this is supposedly our ‘break time,’ evidently.”
You purse your lips slightly before looking over at Heeseung for a second, who just turned away from Sunghoon. You had known Sunghoon almost as long as you’d known the others, so it didn’t feel right to accuse him of anything without any actual proof, but finding the bracelet and the way he was acting now only left a bad taste in your mouth.
“Jay, we found his bracelet on the body in our room,” Your voice shook as you looked up at him, and Heeseung pulled the piece of jewelry out.
Jay’s eyes grow wide as he instantly recognizes it; even with the blood soaking one half, he knew that the bracelet was the one Jake had made specifically for Sunghoon. His eyes quickly shifted over to Sunghoon, who was sitting in the chair, looking at his arms and seeing that the bracelet was, in fact, not on his wrist anymore. Turning back to the two of you, he covers Heeseung’s hand and the bracelet with his hand, pushing Heeseung’s down, making sure no one else is looking over at the three of you.
“Let’s just keep this between us, ya? I don’t want to cause panic with the others.” He spoke quietly, looking between you and Heeseung who nodded his head, shoving the bracelet back into his pocket. “But y/n…” Jay looked down at you, “I think this might have something to do with you.”
You looked up at him with wide, shocked eyes, “Me? You’re telling me that I’m the reason that this is happening?” Your heart started to race as your voice shook, and a mixture of fear and anger filled your veins, “That’s a pretty fucked up thing to assume, Jay.”
“No, listen, Jungwon found this picture of you and Riki in our room.” Jay reached for his pocket to pull the photograph out, “but your face had been scratched out.” He holds the photo out to you, and you quickly grab it, eyes wide and your ears ringing as your stomach drops.
“I thought I had lost this a while ago.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, turning the photo over and seeing your handwriting on the back.
‘The love between siblings knows no boundaries.’ - Y/n & Riki
Your hands started to shake as fear etched itself into your soul. Had this all really been your fault? Noticing the tears in your eyes, Jay pulled your smaller frame into his, wrapping his arms around you while Heeseung put his hand on your head.
“We’ll get out of here,” Jay whispered, hands rubbing the small of your back. His eyes flickered up to Heeseung. “Together.”
Just then, a loud bang reverberated around the room as the doors slammed shut, and the sound of the locks turned right after. Everyone jumped, their eyes went to either of the doors, fear and terror written on everyone's faces. Jungwon was the first to move, walking to the door and trying to open it, but it wouldn’t budge.
“Is this the next puzzle?” You asked, stepping away from Jay and looking over at Jungwon, who looked at you with wide eyes.
The room started to fill with a smell that you couldn’t quite place, but it was starting to make your head woozy. Blinking a few times, you tried to clear the fog, but to no avail. Sunoo then dropped to the ground, making you gasp. You started to make your way to him, but your head started to spin.
Jay quickly grabs you, shouting at everyone to cover their mouths and noses with their shirts. However, it was too late. You collapsed in Jay’s arms, unconscious, while Heeseung stumbled before dropping to the ground as well. Before too long, everyone had succumbed to the gas and collapsed to the ground.
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The ringing in your ears was like an alarm, pulling you back to consciousness. Your eyes fluttered open, blinking hard to adjust to bright overhead lights. Once your eyes adjusted and the ringing dulled down, you looked around your surroundings. Your heart started racing the moment you saw Jungwon lying on the ground a few feet away from you.
You scramble to get to your feet, almost slipping and falling in the process, but you catch yourself before rushing to Jungwon’s side.
“Jungwon! Wake up!” You shake him roughly, hoping to get him to open his eyes, which he does after a few moments, bringing his hand up to shield his eyes from the bright lights.
“Y/n? What’s going on? Where are we?” Jungwon slowly sat up, blinking a few times to clear his vision.
Before you could open your mouth to say anything, the sound of your name being called caught your attention. Turning around, a loud gasp fell from your lips when you found Sunoo standing in a clear cage of sorts. Three locks adoring the door, trapping him inside. Your stomach dropped as you stood to your feet, ready to go over to him. However, you then saw Jake on the other side of the case, standing up with wide eyes. “Rise and shine! The early bird gets the worm as they say” A robotic voice came through the speakers, echoing around the room scaring you. Jungwon stands by your side as a large screen turns on, displaying a countdown, and all of your hearts sink. “Welcome to game number two! You may have gotten out of the first room with no trouble at all, but I can’t promise the same for this one.” Jungwon grabs your hand, causing you to look over at him before looking at Sunoo, who looks horrified, hands pressed against the glass. “Here, you will have a very limited time to complete all three puzzles to collect the key to let your dear friend out. However, if you can’t find them all within the time given to you, well…” The sound of water running, followed by a gasp, caused your head to snap in Sunoo’s direction, eyes growing wide. “He’ll be swimming with the fishes.”
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@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work
𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.
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my-castles-crumbling · 2 months
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Platonic Kissing (Jegulus's Version)
I got a request for a Jegulus version of this microfic so here you go!
She'd threatened to do it, but he hadn't believed her. He really should have known better than to underestimate Pandora Rosier. Because now, in the middle of a party, he was having a full-blown panic attack.
"Kiss Reggie," she'd dared James Potter, eyes wide and innocent.
And Regulus wanted to kill her.
Because now, Sirius was gagging and Barty and Evan were cat-calling, and James was shrugging like it was no-big-fucking-deal, and Regulus was seeing his entire life flash behind his eyes.
"They're friends! Friends kiss on dares!" Pandora threw at the still-gagging Sirius, rolling her eyes and winking at Regulus, but Regulus was far too distracted to care about his brother's antics.
Because how was he supposed to pretend he hated Potter while he was kissing him?
And Potter was so infuriatingly cool about it. He moved in front of Regulus slowly, like he did this every day, meanwhile Regulus felt like he was going to burst.
You can do this, he thought, trying to calm himself. Friends can kiss. This will be...friend-kissing. Nothing more.
So when James leaned forward and Regulus's breath caught in his throat, he tried desperately to stay collected. To not react at all when their lips touched. Even though the slight pressure of those soft, smooth, kissable lips on his was sending sparks through his brain and down his spine. Even though he wanted to groan with the contact.
He refused to move. Friends didn't react when they kissed, after all. They...just kissed and were done. Right?
So why was James still there? Why was he pulling Regulus closer? Why was he- he was- oh, fuck.
He was sure it was James who opened his mouth first, and yet he followed suit almost instantly, allowing their tongues to swirl together.
He wants to put on a show, Regulus thought to himself. Friends...friends can joke like this.
Meanwhile, his entire chest hurt with the effort of not snaking his arms around James's neck. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides and he was very proud of himself for staying so composed, if he did say so himself.
But then James's fingers tugged just slightly at Regulus's hair, fingers laced in dark locks, and his resolve cracked so quickly and completely it was like a bomb went off.
His arms found themselves around James's neck, pulling him closer, closer, closer, lips moving into hot, open-mouthed kisses that were distinctly not friendly and not appropriate for an audience. And James was half in his lap at this point, his other hand coming to rest at Regulus's waist, squeezing in a way that made his stomach flip-flip.
It was Sirius's throat-clearing that made them jump apart, of course. And Regulus's resolve reappeared quickly, his head reeling. Did James often kiss people like that? Did he kiss his friends like that? Did- oh, Merlin- did he kiss Sirius like that?
But as he looked up at James, who was pink-cheeked and grinning, he thought that maybe James didn't kiss his friends like that.
"S'my turn," James murmured, making Regulus raise his eyebrows in confusion. "Reg...I dare you to go on a date with me."
He rolled his eyes and shoved James playfully, but he couldn't hide his smile, no matter how hard he tried.
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ohcaptains · 1 year
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don’t you dare fall in love. | 2
pairing. dealer college student! ellie williams x f! reader
PART ONE. MASTERLIST.  synopsis. ellie tries her hardest not to mix business with pleasure. or, ellie gets a new customer and unfortunately falls in love with her.
warnings. 18+. drug dealing, panic attack, death references (light), creepy men (light), -- sexually explicit descriptions, dry humping, sleepy sex.
an. well. this happened quickly. thanks for all the love on part one. please comment & reblog<3 if this is being laggy, go to settings and smash the cache.
Ellie Williams is not a kiss-ass.
She would not kiss anyone’s ass for a better grade, but she would, theoretically, buy the textbook her professor has written to win good favour. She has tried chocolates. 
Tried reading around the subject: so, what do you think about Western’s ideas on thermal physics…still, Professor Sampson hates her guts. Hates everyone’s guts, really, so Ellie isn’t all that special. But she needs at least an 80 on this test, and she’s been getting 79 for the past month.
Ellie Williams is not a kiss-ass.
“You’re such a kiss ass,” Dina spouts, her voice directly in Ellie’s ear from her headphones. “Dina, we spoke about this. I would kiss no man’s ass.”
Ellie is in the science textbook section, trying to figure out how the staff have laid this place out. She can hear Dina smile, “No, we all know whose ass you want to kiss. She here?” Ellie looks around again, beady eyes like a frightened animal. “No, Dina, trust me. I’ve looked,” she whispers, reminiscent of a spy speaking through an earpiece.
“Trust you to pick the one day she’s not working to visit the campus bookshop.”
Ellie carries on looking through the shelves, head bent at an angle as she reads the authors. She talks through her Bluetooth, “I think the universe is trying to keep us apart.” “Or just the guy who does the rotas. What’s this book called again?” “A General Relativity course book.”
Dina snores, “Jesus, how bad do you need this grade?” “If I get this grade, then I don’t have to attend his Saturday sessions.” “Saturday? This man is—“ “Ellie!”
The distant voice cuts Dina off, and Ellie spins to her name, confusion on her face until she recognises you standing there, smiling in your uniform. You wave, far too happy to be working on a Monday morning. Ellie’s face splits open, excitement in her gut, a sudden living, breathing thing. “Hey, I looked around, but I didn’t see you.” “I was out back,” you state, motioning behind you. You play with your fingers for a beat, body inching closer, getting into her space, then stopping, suddenly -- she imagines you leaning to hug her, but your movements are reserved as if you’re telling yourself you’ve missed the opportunity.
Ellie aches with the memory of your hug, the touch happening in an alternate reality.
Note to self, Ellie thinks; hug her when I see her next.“What’re you doing here?”
“Ellie? Helllooooo…” comes Dina’s distant voice. Ellie ignores her. Focuses on you. Focuses on the way you’ve done your hair today. The cherry necklace that sits on your clavicle, glinting red against your soft skin. She dazedly stares at it, and when you cock your head to the side, waiting for her answer, she flinches back to reality. “Err,” she starts, blushing red, “I’m, err, trying to find a physics textbook, but I can’t find it.” “Oh, I can look on the system for you, if you want?” Who are you talking to? Is it her? – it’s her isn’t it? Ellie double-taps against her headphones, ending the call. She shoves them around her neck, breathing in the silence. “Yeah – please.” You throw her an easy smile, turning in the direction of the desk, “Follow me.” Ellie’s phone buzzes and she follows you, reading the new text from Dina: Okay asshole She quickly types, I’m sorry, you were ruining my ability to flirt Godspeed, and don’t talk about aliens again.
There’s a queue at the desk already, being served by one of your colleagues, but you walk behind them, signalling Ellie to cut the line and come to the computer at the end. She ducks behind the people, a smug smile on her face from the special treatment.
Your fingers clack at the keys, logging into something, concentrated look on your face. Ellie focuses on the small curve between your brows, wanting to make a home in it – so focused, that she doesn’t immediately answer when you ask, “What’s the book?” She manages to snap out of it, “It’s called ‘A General Relativity course book.’” You look up from the computer, pausing. “Okay,” you sound, pursing your lips, “not my type of literature, but I get It.” Your fingers drag on the keys, the clack echoing in Ellie’s ears. “It’s not mine, either,” she starts, hoping she sounds casual, “I’m aiming for it to win me good favour with my professor -- he wrote it.” “What’s your type, then?” you ask suddenly, eyes still on the screen. “Huh?” Ellie chokes, flinching. You look up from the computer, grinning slyly, “Of literature.” “Oh,” she bleats. The redness is back again – heat filling her cheeks. She feels it around her neck, too. Rubbing it, she tries to think. Luckily, you find the answer for her.
“I saw some westerns in your living room, the other day. Real old ones, too.” “Yeah—“Ellie speaks, cutting you off quickly. “Those…are, err, my dad’s—but I read mostly sci-fi. Space operas. Things like that.” “Mmm,” you hum, smiling at the screen. “So you are a nerd.” A surge of adrenaline hits Ellie, “I can’t tell if you’re flirting or just being mean.”
The air changes, responding to Ellie’s sudden confidence. Your tongue comes out, licking the corner of your mouth, all pink and red and wet. Yet you don’t answer, moving on with the drag of your mouse. “Ummmmm,” you sing, typing and clicking buttons, “We do have it.” “Sweet, how much?” “It’s…170 bucks.” Ellie’s stomach bottoms out, “That’s fucked up.” “I can give you my discount if you want?” you quickly offer, “But it’s only ten per cent.”
Ellie’s heart blooms at that. “Thank you – I appreciate it,” she says sincerely, “Lemme look online some more, okay? Maybe there’s a used version.”
Though, Ellie does fleetingly think about spending the money, just in case you work on commission. She supposes that bookshops might not do that…still… “Why do you need it anyway?” “I need an 80 on my test this Friday, or I have to go to his Saturday sessions for the rest of the term.” “That’s fucked up, you’re a smart girl, though. Can’t you just study super hard?” Ellie shakes her head, ignoring the words smart girl. Ignoring the way it makes her want to vault over the desk and beg you to say it again. “This man has never given me an 80 before. I’ve been getting 79’s for as long as I’ve known him. I was hoping the textbook would win him over.” “All this for one point? Who is this professor; want me to talk to him? I can be very persuasive.”
Your lips twist, a cheeky smile curling into your cheek. You put your fists up, readying yourself for a fight, and Ellie shakes her head, stifling a laugh – a real girly, schoolgirl giggle.
“This man hates the world. I’m pretty sure even your sunny disposition isn’t bright enough to lighten his mood.” You grin, quirking a brow. “My sunny disposition?” “Yeah.” “You think I have a sunny disposition?” your eyes go to slits, brows raised. Ellie suddenly thinks she’s said something wrong, but she sticks to her guns, “…yes.” “No one has ever said I have a sunny disposition before.” You lean on the desk, propping your chin in your hands. Ellie watches as you wiggle your brows, and suddenly gets it, “Does my presence brighten a room?” “Okay, you’re making fun of me now, I’m gonna—“Ellie jabs a thumb behind her, pretending to leave, “Nooooooo, wait, Ellie,” you giggle, and grab her hand.
Ellie’s brain turns off.
Like a mechanical power cut, her cerebral cortex goes completely black, humming with the echo of life. 
You must not realise that Ellie has turned off because you continue to hold her warm hand, asking, “You got any more classes today?” and Ellie’s cogs whir, attempting to send a message to her brain: wake the fuck up loser.
“E-Err,” Ellie stutters, trying to splutter back to life.
Her cheeks go red and her nose blooms bright -- the blush is so strong her chest burns. She does not move her hand. She does not move her hand, a cliché buzz crackling under her skin. 
The current shoots up her arm, through her chest, and there’s a fleeting moment where she thinks she’s going to have a heart attack.
“You okay? You look kinda pale.” “What? I’m—“she pulls her hand away, holding it to her chest, feeling the rush of her heartbeat “—fine. I’m---yeah. No classes today.” “So, you’re not up for a coffee?” you wonder, and yeah, Ellie is definitely having a heart attack. “I get off at 2,” you explain, looking at her, a nervous glint in your eyes.
“We could get a coffee…if you want? At the coffee shop on campus?”
Ellie goes silent. She knows that realistically she’s meant to say something, but in the fictional run down of this scenario, she was asking you. She wasn’t short-circuiting from you holding her hand. She was suave, cool, and flirty.
She was Ellie, the ladies man.
She’s clearly silent for too long, as you rush to speak. “It’s fine if you don’t wanna— “ Ellie cuts you off, “No!” she just about shouts. The word reverberates around the shop, and a few curious shoppers peer over, wondering if she’s berating a customer assistant. Ellie flushes, frowning at the counter, “um, yes. Yes, I would – would love to.”
You laugh, holding your hand where you held hers, and Ellie’s fingers hum with the memory of you.
“Sweet. I’ll see you at half two then?”
Ellie’s early.
She didn’t even go home. She just wandered, too fuelled with adrenaline to do anything but overthink. Gave herself multiple pep talks – you got this, cool, suave Ellie. No more loser Ellie!
At 2:45, when she thinks you’ve ditched her – that negative voice always alive and biting at her ear -- she hears someone holler her name. She spins, immediately finding you. You call her name again, waving, and breaking into a jog.
“Hey!” you beam, desperately holding the strap of your tote as you bounce. She lets herself ogle you for a few seconds – pretty in your flowy skirt and a tight t-shirt – but glancing behind you, she realises she’s not the only one.
Ellie sees a few curious jocks hanging near the vending machine turn their heads, and she’s filled with a sudden, terrifying need to take you in her arms.
It’s not the first time it’s happened, but this feels different. Feels almost violent. Protective. She inhales, body vibrating. The all-consuming feeling pushes at her temples, forcing pressure behind her ears.
“Sorry I’m late,” you huff, nearing. Ellie barely hears you. She glances behind you at the boys, her green eyes flicking over the scene. Their eyes are inquisitive, scanning the pair of you, trying to figure out the dynamic.
Ellie smiles softly, “No, you’re good.” “I just had to look for something quickly,” you explain, struggling with your bag. It looks heavy, and Ellie goes to offer to take it from you, but you glance at where she was looking, frowning.
You notice the eyes.  
“Um—” you start, flinching at her, small, flustered, “and I had to change.” You look back again. Two of the boys are whispering to each other, clearly talking about you. They huddle like a pack, discussing who’s going to go first, until one of them eventually waves, a sleazy, panty-dropper smile on his mouth.
You immediately tense, snapping back to Ellie, and Ellie takes your hand.
She doesn’t think.
Or didn’t think, as she took your hand in hers and pulled your body into hers, slinging a confident arm around your back and the other around your waist.
She tells herself she’s being protective. Friendly. Your body doesn’t relax. Instead, it tenses with the sudden change, and there’s a lightning flash moment where Ellie thinks she’s ruined everything.
Then, you hum.
She feels your body goes like jelly against her, and then your arms wrap around her middle, welcoming her touch as you lean into her. You nuzzle into her neck and Ellie’s whole-body flushes.
Looking over your shoulder, she stares at the boys, her green eyes livid and alive. They pause, off-kilter for a second.
“You’re warm,” you suddenly whisper, the nerves in your voice gone. Ellie doesn’t hear you, too busy feeling the fury course through her body. She licks her lips, eyes slipping into slits. One of the boys frowns. She watches and watches, and when they don’t look away, she brushes her mouth over your ear.
Ellie hears your breathing stutter.
“This okay?” she whispers, and you nod. You manage a clipped and quiet, “yeah,” into the shell of her neck, and air flutters against her skin, setting her senses on fire.
The boys eventually give up, turning their noses back to the machine, and Ellie carries on holding you. After a beat, you whisper, “They still there?” “Mm, not looking though.” “Thank you,” you rush, sighing, and Ellie squeezes your body tight, thinking, girlfriend, thinking, mine. The pair of you rest together for a beat, comfortable until a nagging feeling bites at Ellie.
Her fingers swell with gunk, her belly oozes green, shame a wave washing over her. You’re exactly like those boys Ellie, hounding her like a wolf. She snaps away, trying to shrug off the dirt that’s coating her skin, “Yeah, don’t mention it.”
Ellie buys your coffee, hoping it makes up for her crossing the line earlier.
She’s reserved as she sits, struggling to overcome the reddy green guilt that’s biting at her. 
There’s no hostility from you, though, as you rip open a sugar packet and pour it over the latte art, sprinkling it evenly over the brown and white foam. 
Ellie keeps her hands on her hot coffee mug, hoping the heat of the liquid will burn away the sudden sick in her veins.
You take a sip, then snap to, “Oh! I have a gift for you.”
You hoist your bag onto your lap, rifling through your stuff.
“When you left, I looked in the back.”
You pull out a thick book, heaving it onto the table. The slam of it makes the floor shake. 
Ellie curiously looks at the cover. When she reads the title -- A General Relativity coursebook -- her eyes widen. What the fuck? Did you buy it for her? steal it for her?
“The publishers send us sample copies,” you explain, putting your bag down. “I really didn’t think we’d have it, cause it’s so obscure.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ellie curses. She grabs the book and flicks through. It’s exactly the same, apart from Sample copy – not for resale, printed on the front.
She looks at you, eyes big. “Oh my god. Thank you. Thank you so much. What do you want for it? I mean I can pay you, or buy you like, twelve croissants or – shit,” she leans back in her chair, “your next pickup is on me.” “I don’t want your weed,” you quickly explain, shaking your head. You pause, rephrasing with a laugh, “I mean—I do, but not as payment. I don’t want anything, we were gonna throw it away, anyway…and…” you shrug, a small smile blooming. “--you’re cool.”
Ellie thumbs the textbook, considering you. She licks the corner of her lips and cocks her head to the side. “I’m cool?”
“Yeah,” you flush. With a small nod of your head, you bring your coffee up to your lips, and smile around the rim, “the coolest.”
Ellie rests the top of the textbook under her chin, watching you drink, then chew at your coffee-stained bottom lip, considering her. “Thank you for earlier,” you whisper. “With those guys.”
You reach over and take her hand, running your nail over her palm.
Ellie blinks at the huddle of your limbs on the coffee table, a warm, fuzzy buzz swirling in her chest, narrowly avoiding her heart, and she breathes the moment in, holding your hand as her subconscious whirls,
What are you doing, kid? A Texan accent whispers.
When Ellie gets back to her apartment, she strips.
Nearly tears her shirt off, body sticky, skin boiling. Her blood rushes under the surface like lava, threatening to erupt.
She can still feel your tight body against hers. Hear the stutter of your breathing as she brushed her lips over your ear. Your scent is stuck to her skin, and she itches, rubs, and squeezes, groaning in frustration as she tries to claw her flesh off.
She kicks her backpack, and her new textbook retaliates, jutting into her foot.
“Fuck!” she shouts, kicking it again.
She’s unbuttoning her jeans as she makes her way into her bedroom, and she slams her door closed, wood rattling on the hinges.
Confusion rips through her, a living and breathing thing. Though, as Ellie pushes her head into her mattress, she doesn’t feel all that confused. No, her belly is swirling, her skin warm and sensitive to the touch. She knows what this is.
“Fuck,” she sobs, clenching her fists.
You’re warm, you’d whispered, and Ellie had been too busy focusing on her rage to notice her want. You’d slot into her frame like a puzzle piece. Melted against her, mouth brushing over her neck, breath stuttering.
Ellie imagines the event differently.
She imagines storming over to the boys and grabbing the sleazy, hand-waving one by the back of his head and slamming it into the vending machine.
Anger floods her, comforting and familiar. So so fucking familiar. 
She imagines the glass smashing, imagines the shards scattering as she smacks the boy's head to the cement, reaching around and snapping his arm back, bone splintering, never able to wave again.
You’re warm, she hears again, followed by your pleased hum. Feels your soft, unbelievably soft body, and the brush of your hands as you’d rubbed her back.
They still there?
Ellie never forgets a face.
She could probably find them. Maybe she still deals to one of their buddies – she’s got connections. Knows people. 
She could find them. Find what frat they most likely lived at, and storm in, forcing them to line up for her with the knife she kept in her backpack clenched in her grip as she ordered, now show me your best smile.
She remembers the way you’d tensed up, that fun, bubbly aura you usually oozed disappearing. If Ellie wasn’t so busy holding you, she would have gone over there. 
Would have knocked their heads together like bowling pins, listening to them scatter to the floor.
It’s been a while since this rage has blossomed, and Ellie groans into the duvet, feeling a different kind of warmth, too.
Gingerly, she pushes her knuckle between her thighs and sighs.
“F-fuck,” she stutters, eyes fluttering closed. Her lower belly swirls, hips jutting. With her fist between her legs, she pushes her thighs together and moans.
Did she get this wet when she hugged you? or did this happen just now? when she was imagining making the boys bleed?
It didn’t matter, because regardless, Ellie knew that it was dangerous.
 Ellie gets your text for a pick-up ten minutes before you knock on her door.
At first, she thinks it’s Dina, so she’s pleasantly surprised when she opens the door and finds you standing there, a reserved smile on your lips.
“Oh shit,” Ellie spits, eyes widening, “it’s you. Did you fly here, or something?” she jokes, moving to the side. You don’t laugh, just hum in agreement.
“Usual?” Ellie asks, closing the door behind her. The air is thick and cosy, fueled by the dim lighting of her living room and the lack of real clothes. Sweatpants and a baggy washed-out hoodie. 
Her hair too clean from the shower she just had, that it falls in front of her face, begging to be noticed.
You twist to her, voice sudden and quick, “You got any weed that could put me on another plane of existence? or knock me the fuck out?” you ask, dumping your bag on the floor near your usual seat on her couch. 
“Had a really shitty week that I wanna forget.” 
It’s then that Ellie notices the bend in your brows. The flustered edge to your features. Bags under your eyes. You look like stress incarnate, and Ellie wants nothing more than to wrap you in a soft blanket and cook you dinner.
It’s been a couple of weeks since the coffee ‘date’, or incident, as Ellie calls it. You’d met up a few times since then, but never here, in the apartment Ellie lusted after you in.
“Oh fuck, yeah — yeah lemme –” She gets smiley, hoping it’ll change your mood, and moves her shit from the sofa, clearing a space for you. “--Sit down, make yourself comfy, lemme get some samples.” 
When she gets back from the bedroom, you’re curled up on the sofa, shoes off, and fiddling with the blanket she had wrapped around herself moments earlier, looking slightly less stressed than before. You give her a small smile, nodding to her TV. “Sorry for interrupting you while playing Uncharted, that’s simply unforgivable.” 
Ellie shrugs, clambering onto the sofa beside you. She opens a small bag, pulling out a joint. “I’ve played it before. I know that Nathan Drake gets the bad guy.” 
“Spoilers,” you smile, curling your legs beneath you. Your knees bump her thigh, and that silly, electric current shoots through her again, but it’s familiar, now. There’s less fear there. She keeps her thighs pressed against your knees, the denim of your jeans rubbing against her sweatpants.
“You gonna tell me what’s the matter?” Ellie asks, trying to mask her interest. She flicks her lazy gaze to you, and you fiddle with your fingers, quirking a small smile. “Just schoolwork.” “Mm,” Ellie hums, considering you.
Ellie has the innate ability to read people, so she knows you’re lying when you rub your neck and try and avoid her eyes. Tell me, she thinks, let me help.
Instead, she holds the joint out to you, figuring you’re not comfortable enough to tell her yet. “I got this new shit last week.”
You take it from her, sniffing it. “It’s meant to completely numb you out.” “You tried it?” Ellie nods, getting cosy on the sofa. “It’s stronger than the stuff you smoke. Didn’t know who I was for an hour.”
“I could do with that…” you trail off. She watches you fiddle with it, nerves pushing at your brows. “You gonna tell me what happened?—” You cut her off, “did you smoke the whole thing?” and Ellie pauses. Her green-brown eyes consider you before she reaches out and takes your hand.
“You can smoke here if you want. If you don’t wanna be alone while smoking something new.” 
You shake your head, “No — I couldn’t.”
Ellie slides her thumb over your palm, and beams when the knot in your brow loosens an inch. “It’s fine — I can play, you can sit and zone out. Be thoughtless for a while.” 
 When you don’t immediately respond, Ellie takes the joint from you, leaning for a lighter. “We can smoke it together, okay?” she asks, tone final. After a few seconds, you nod, picking at the blanket. You flash her a smile, “okay.”  
Ellie lights the joint for you, and your eyes follow her the whole time, intently watching as she ashes it against an ashtray. When she turns to you, her cheeks are flushed from your gaze. She passes you the joint, ignoring the heat at her neck, and grins, “ladies first.” “You’re annoying,” you joke, shaking your head and taking it from her. Ellie gets up to open the window. When she turns back, you’re taking a hit, and she’s forced to pause, eyes flickering over the pink of your lips.
She realises in all the time she’s known you – a couple of months now – she’s never seen you smoke before.
“Oh fuck,” you squeak, pulling away and coughing smoke out of your mouth. “That’s strong.” Ellie laughs, clambering back onto the sofa. You make space for her, then fill it, shoulder resting against hers as if you’ve done this before.
As if snuggling on the couch was something you did every Friday night. She smiles down at you, ignoring the swell of butterflies in her belly. “No weak-ass ditch weed for my best customer.” “Best?” you ask, offering the joint to her. She takes it and puts it in her mouth, tasting smoke, then something sweet and sticky. When she takes a hit and pulls back, her head rushing, she glances down at it.
You’ve got lip gloss on the joint. In her sudden fuzzy, slow mind, she stares down at the pink line of your mouth, blinking back to reality as the sudden rush fades.
You’re watching her.
She feels your hot gaze on the side of her neck, and she turns, seeing you gazing up at her from under your lashes, eyes wet with something. She forgets you’ve asked a question. Looks at the gloss on your lips, the stuff she’d just tasted, and wants to bathe in it.
Ellie hands it back, breathing a quick laugh, hoping it’s casual, “You’ve got lip gloss on the joint.” “Oh,” you bleat, blinking at her hand. “Sorry.” She shakes her head, “S’okay,” and hands it back to you, speaking – not really thinking as she blurts, “figured we’d share lip-gloss at some point.”
“Easier if we just kiss,” you shrug, and Ellie’s body flinches. She blinks at you, ears ringing with your words while you smoke the joint.
You said that, right? Ellie thinks. You pull it away, smoke pouring out of your mouth. “Yeah, it would be,” Ellie whispers. You glance at her, smirking, “I think you’d look pretty in pink.” Ellie’s body buzzes with something – a mixture of desire and affection. Her brows raise, voice a husk of itself as she asks, “You calling me pretty?” “You don’t think you’re pretty?” you wonder, matching her tone, whispering to each other like you’re two girls at the back of the class, sharing something secret.
“I bet those freckles get all the girls. And the eyebrow slit?”
You lean back against the sofa, breathing a sigh. “Panty dropper material right there.”
Ellie takes the joint from you, ignoring the image of you dropping your panties for her.
“It’s a scar, I didn’t cut it on purpose.” “Yeah? Lemme see,” and you lean forward, stopping inches away to peer at her eyebrow.
You’re there – right there, mouth so close to Ellie’s eye that if she blinks, you’ll kiss her eyelashes. Ellie imagined this moment differently. Still, she revels in it. Takes a mental picture. “Huh,” you hum, pulling away a centimetre, blinking at her. Ellie inhales and gets a whiff of the remnants of citrus. Her eyes feel heavy, intoxicated by your proximity. You must see it happen, because your mouth opens an inch, your nervous smile fleeting.
“How’d you get it?” you whisper. Ellie licks her lips, nearly touching your mouth. “Fell on my bike when I was little, smashed my face against a rock. Had to get thirteen stitches.” “Ouch. You musta been a tough little girl, Ellie Williams.” Something black flashes at Ellie’s eyes, before the light comes back, buzzing alive. She grins, cheeks red, “still am.”  
The pair of you smoke for a bit, chatting and catching up. Ellie starts playing her game again, and you hold the joint for her when she gets to an action sequence, eyes on her the entire time.
Ellie keeps on dying.
Keeps on thinking about your earlier admission. The causal way you’d said, easier if we just kiss. The easy way you’d leaned closer – the way it hadn’t affected you.
Ellie dies again, and her pride takes a hit as a result.
Your gaze is distracting.
She feels it prickle over her freckled cheeks and the slit in her brow, then fleeting around the skin of her neck, dipping under her hoodie. Eventually, you peel away, turning to the TV, and Ellie manages to continue the game without switching to easy.
About half an hour later, you start to fidget. Ellie turns to you, and you catch her gaze, zoned out. Your eyes are red, pupils blown -- high as a kite.
“Oh, fuck,” Ellie laughs, “You look so high right now.” 
“Yeah?” you ask, then you laugh, the sound bursting out of your mouth as if it’s suddenly really funny. “You okay?” Ellie laughs, pausing the game.
You rub your neck, face changing, “This is — I feel really funny.”  “S’okay, it’s meant to feel like this.”
A small furrow builds between your brows. She watches you pause, staring at something off into the distance as if you’re falling inwards.
You fidget again. A hand comes up to rub at your chest, and Ellie slowly starts to become concerned. She leans over and touches your arm, “hey, you okay?”
You think about it, bottom lip between your teeth. After a second, you shake your head, clenching your fists, and Ellie’s eyes widen.
“Ellie,” you whisper, voice small. You suck in a quick breath, and her heart snaps. She leans closer, kneeling in front of you, bending to meet your gaze.
“What’s the matter?” Ellie watches as you shove your palm against your chest, rubbing where your heart is. Your breathing shakes, and Ellie knows this.
Knows what’s happening.
Her hands come out, holding your shoulders. “Hey, whoa. You’re okay,” but you quickly shake your head, the panic sudden and overwhelming. You rebut her words, “Mm, no. Nope,” and clench your hands together.
Ellie helplessly watches as your breathing picks up, panic threatening to consume you. She moves to meet your gaze again, but you’re avoiding it, looking away – trying to hide. 
Your breathing suddenly spirals, chest sucking in and out, and Ellie finally takes your chin, green eyes meeting yours.
“No, look at me. Eyes on me — babe. Hi, hi angel,” she whispers, so sweet it’s sickly. The endearments spill out of her lips, natural on her lips. Your scared eyes snap to hers, begging. “You’re okay,” she states clearly. “Just breathe. In and out, let it happen. You’re perfectly fine. You’re with me, okay? I got you.” 
She nods, taking deep breaths for you. Slowly, you begin to mimic her, breathing in deeply through your nose and out of your mouth. Your hands are clenching her thigh, holding the fabric in your fists.
“In and out. In and out,” Ellie nods, coaching you through it. You match her breathing, following her instructions for a few heart-clenching minutes.
When your eyes slowly lose their frantic edge, she cracks a smile, “Good girl. Like that -- you’re gonna be okay, just let this wash over you. No thoughts, remember?” 
The grip you’ve got on her trousers loosens and after a few minutes of fading panic -- mostly on Ellie’s behalf -- you speak. 
“My heart is still beating really fast,” you whisper, a nervous giggle falling out of your lips. Ellie takes it as a good sign that you’re laughing.
“Here, feel,” and you take her hand and push it to your chest. Your heart thumps against her palm, beating quickly and hard. She nods, “Keep on taking some calming breaths and it’ll slow.”  
You keep her hand there, and Ellie thinks that the pressure must be comforting. After a few minutes, your body relaxes. “‘’sorry,” you whisper, eyes closed.  “S’okay, don’t apologise.” 
“It’s embarrassing.” 
Ellie shakes her head. 
“Last summer, I went to Amsterdam with Dina and her boyfriend Jesse. I tried this new strand as an edible and thought, psh, I’m a heavyweight, I can take it. I ate the whole brownie before going out one night. Blacked out. Came-to near a canal, while having the worst panic attack of my life. Felt like I was going to die. I forced everyone to go home with me and had a panic attack for three hours.” 
“Three?” you laugh, eyes opening, and she nods. “Worst trip ever.” 
She feels your heart beat slow against her palm. Your breathing settles back to its regular rhythm, fingers loosening on the back of her hand.
“Feel better now?” she asks softly. 
“Yeah, think so. “
You drop your hand, letting her move hers away. It’s warm from the heat of your body, and she goes tingly from remembering where you held it. Inwardly, she scorns herself. 
“I shouldn’t have let you smoke that much.” You breathe a smile, rubbing your chest and resting your head on the cushions, looking up at her. “I’m a big girl, I should know my limits,” you shrug, “It’s probably because my body is stressed anyway.”
Ellie considers you, “You gonna tell me what happened?” Your face goes distant, finally admitting, “Mike cornered me in the library.” “Ex-dealer Mike?” Ellie asks, locking up. “Yeah,” you nod, “Asked me why I stopped buying from him.”
“The fuck?” she breathes. What a weird thing to do. Customers come and go. You don’t make it weird by cornering them in the library and asking why. You nod, brows furrowed at the memory. You continue to rub your chest, fingers pushing under the fabric of your top as if to calm your heart.
“I said I found someone new, and he musta not liked that, 'cause he called me a cheater.” Ellie’s brows shoot up, body tensing. The familiar pressure pushes at her temple, “A what?” You nod, licking your lips. “He asked who my new dealer was, but I didn’t tell him. Didn’t want you to get this shit, too.”
Ellie’s heart swells at the thought of being protected, but it doesn’t swell too much, hardened by the mere idea of Mike calling you stupid shit like that. “You could have told him. Mike’s creepy, but I don’t think he’d try anything.” Your frown deepens, eyes go distant. “I don’t know Ellie, he seemed…” you whisper, voice cracking, “he was really mad at me.”
Ellie doesn’t think. Just, opens her arms, and you immediately reach up into her, wrapping your arms around her neck and settling against her.
She breathes you in. Starts to rub your back, long fingers scooting up the fabric and sliding back down. 
Ellie feels the lines of you. Let’s you burrow into her neck, and she hears you exhale, the tension leaking out of you as she rubs your back.
Ellie holds you like you’re hers.
In some ways – ways she won’t even admit to herself yet – you are. It’s why she doesn’t hesitate to admit that “you know I’ll beat the shit out of him if he tries anything, right?” When you don’t respond, Ellie pulls away and cups your cheeks. She bends to your gaze, eyes hard as she proclaims, “I mean it.” “Do I have to pay extra for your protection?” you laugh, trying to break the tension, but Ellie can’t bring herself to joke around – too fuelled by anger -- yet she does flash you a smile.  
“Promise you’ll tell me if he speaks to you again?” You nod, finally meeting her gaze, “promise,” and Ellie nods, satisfied.
“Okay, let’s get you something to eat,” and she pulls away from the sofa, padding to the kitchen, your eyes on the back of her head the entire time. When she opens the cupboard door, she realises her hands are shaking.
Ellie feeds you.
The pair of you silently eat together, comfortable in the noise of her playing her game, the adventure-themed backing music filling the room. 
The high you both share seems to make you sleepy, and eventually, you’re resting against her, head leaning on her shoulder, arms wrapped around her arm. Your breathing settles and slows, and a couple of hours later, Ellie wakes.
Her PS5 has gone into sleep mode. The tv has switched off, and the only light is the blue beam of her gaming console and the moon cracking through the window. 
She blearily inhales the night, looking down at you, and the shuffle wakes you up. “Mm,” you hum, blinking awake. You lift your head and twist to her, Ellie dazedly watching the moon glinting on the side of your face.
“I’m sorry – fell asleep,” you whisper, rubbing your eyes, and Ellie lazily shakes her head, fueled by the cute sleepy look on your face. She wants nothing more than for you to rest, so she reaches out, caressing your hair, “No, s’okay, go back to sleep.” You hum, drowsily holding her hand, “Wanna get comfy.” Ellie, like always, doesn’t think. Too tired to remember the rules of your friendship, she pulls your groggy frame into her, and you immediately wrap your arms around her neck, letting her lay the pair of you down. 
She crowds you against the back of the sofa, arms around you as you settle against her chest, your hands pressing into the cotton of her hoodie.
You nuzzle deeper, and whisper, “Cold,” and Ellie reaches up, grabbing for the blanket. She throws it over the pair of you, and you smile into her chest, humming a thank you. A minute later, when she thinks you’ve fallen asleep, she hears your small voice whisper, “’ m sorry for panicking,” and Ellie shakes her head. “Shh,” she breathes, “S’okay baby,” and she places a soft kiss on your forehead. “Go back to sleep.”
When Ellie wakes, your hands are under her hoodie.
It’s the first thing she notices.
Not the beam of the early morning sun cracking through her fluttering curtains. Not the couple having an argument on the balcony beside her apartment, no – it’s your warm palms resting against her bare chest, fingers rubbing comforting circles into her rib cage.
Your face is snuggled into the crock of her neck, the tickly flutter of your subtle breathing vibrating against her hoodie. She’s still groggy with sleep, and it reacts instinctively to the touch.
Her whole-body flushes -- belly tightens, thick with something gooey.
She lets you hold her like that. Let’s you snuggle closer into her chest, nose pushing against her breasts, and she hums a lazy sigh, cradling your body tighter.
In Ellie’s absent mind, and sleepy state, she lets your fingers drag up, thumb sliding dangerously close to the bottom of her breast.
She’s braless – because of course she is – and your touch is so gentle, comforting – delicate, that Ellie leans to it, not thinking, not realising as she dozes off to it.
Too tired to care, it feels too good to second guess.
The small brush of your thumb continues, lulling Ellie into a catatonic state. At some point, you speak. Drowsily whisper a hum, then mumble something else.
“S’warm,” you mutter, shuffling, body dragging against hers as you drape an open thigh over hers. Your hand moves, too, thumb skidding over her nipple, lazily rubbing back and forth.
Ellie’s whole-body flushes.
She hushes a sound, cradling you closer, long fingers plunging between your thigh and knee as she hitches you higher. There’s no restraint there. No fear. In her hazy, numb mind, she’s thinking – closer. Thinking, more.
The warmth of the sun beams down on your intertwined bodies, cars bleat, and people yell – but the pair of you are none the wiser as you snooze, tangled with each other like vines.
Slow moments pass. Moments where Ellie’s rubbing your kneecap. Where your hands slip through her auburn hair, looping the strands between your fingers.
Ellie feels you shuffle again.
You dreamily mumble, “’ wanna be closer,” and she doesn’t fight you as you push into her, pressing her flat onto the sofa and dragging your hips over her body to rest completely on top of her. 
Almost instinctively, Ellie’s hands reach to rest on your ass, and you hum into her neck, pressing back against her touch.
“’ S’nice,” you mumble, kissing under her jaw. The touch makes her legs ache -- the warmth of it pooling between her thighs, and then slowly, oh so slowly, your hips start to roll. 
Crotch drags against hers, the denim of your jeans pushing against her pussy, and Ellie dazedly moans.
“Keep doing that,” she whispers, and you nod, mumbling an okay, as your hips sleepily drag against hers. Your hand clutches the side of her neck, and her name breathlessly spills out of your mouth.
Ellie, you whisper, semi-conscious, followed by a small whimper. The pair of you continue to move like that -- half asleep and desperate. The world spins. Morning fades, and when Ellie wakes, her whole body burns.
An intense pressure is pushing between her thighs, and her skin feels electric -- a live wire – with goose bumps washing over her body.
She blinks the world into focus. Something is tickling her neck, and it’s then that your predicament falls into place.
Your body is straddling hers.
Ellie’s gripping your ass, helping you drag your hips, and she’s suddenly incredibly confused, before her belly tightens, clit aching.
Oh fuck, she thinks, oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.
“Babe,” she bleats, needing you to wake you up. “Mmm?” you murmur against her neck, hips still gently grinding. Ellie doesn’t know what to say. Get off of me isn’t all that polite, but if you continue to grind against her like this, she’ll come. 
Luckily, she doesn’t have to say anything else, as you wake with a sharp inhale, and there’s a quiet second before you freeze, your body locking up.
“Oh my god,” you mumble pointedly into her neck, and Ellie slowly lifts her hands from your ass. “Yeah, I don’t –” she whispers, staring at the ceiling. “--don���t know when this happened.”
Heat pools between her thighs, and in her groggy, fucked out mind, she fleetingly remembers you starting to drag your crotch against hers, whispering about wanting her closer. 
Remembers you breathlessly moaning her name, then kissing her neck. Remembers her begging, keep doing that.
You fidget, hips innocently slotting over hers, and you choke an “Mmh,” sounding incredibly similar to a whimper. 
The sound goes straight to Ellie’s clit, and she mouths a curse at the ceiling. Her fingers flex with the memory of your ass in her palms, coaching you as you ground into her.
The silence drags.
Ellie’s body doesn’t stop aching.
You fidget again, as if you don’t know what to do – fingers flex against her neck, wet lips drag over her jaw and Ellie snaps. “Babe, I’m sorry, but you gotta—” she chokes, “—gotta stop touching me or I’ll—” Ellie doesn’t have to finish – thankfully -- because you suddenly slide off of her, seemingly getting it as you drop to the floor in a collection of limbs, scrambling to lean against the sofa.
Ellie’s hands pause in the air. She keeps completely still, begging for the desire to pass.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “’s’okay,” Ellie bleats, hoping you don’t hear the desperation in her voice, “it was me too.” “I don’t—” you start, shaking your head, and the pulsing between Ellie’s thighs doesn’t go away. She suddenly feels awful. 
After a few painful seconds, she notices you shakily get up, and you don’t say a word as you shuffle out of the hallway and into the bathroom.
When she hears the lock click, Ellie’s palm immediately pushes between her thighs, eyes rolling back at the ceiling.
Bad idea, she thinks, but fuck it. 
She imagines you doing the same thing. Imagines you resting against her bathroom door, your hand pushing under your jeans, coming hot and sticky over your fingers.
You’d whimpered for fucks sake. 
Moaned her God damn name, and as Ellie grinds against her knuckles, the memory of you huffing her a desperate fuck fills her mind, followed by the soft, quiet whisper of you breathing, wanna come, into the shell of her neck.
Ellie hoists herself off the sofa, ignoring the pressing heat of her cunt, and storms to the bathroom, knocking against the locked door. “Babe?” she asks. There are a few seconds before you mutter a “Yeah?” and Ellie closes her eyes. “You wanna talk about it?” She calls through the door. Your strained voice bleeds through the wood, “Not really.” The girl doesn’t know what to say. This has never happened before. So, she chooses humour.
She breathes a laugh, “At least lemme finish you off,” she jokes, and immediately regrets it, closing her eyes in shame.
She doesn’t expect you to pause, then whisper, “um. I’m good,” then, “it kinda already happened.”
“Jesus Christ,” Ellie groans, head falling against the door. “When?” “Think sometime after you asked me to keep doing that.” “You gotta come out, gotta let me see you.” “Can’t we just never talk about it again?” “Is that what you want?”
There’s another pause. 
“Ellie,” you whisper, pained. “If I see you, I’m going to die of embarrassment.” “These things happen,” she tries to counter. “They do?” “No. I don’t think they do.”
You groan, and she hears the sound of something hitting the wall. Ellie imagines you throwing a roll of toilet roll. “You have to come out sometime,” she speaks. “Nope. I’ll die in the toilet. Like Elvis.” “Not a good way to go.” “If it means literally never talking about this again, I don’t mind.” “Okay,” Ellie huffs, breathing a smile. “We’ll never talk about this again.” “You promise?” “Yeah, I’ll never bring up the fact that you sleepily came against me on one random Saturday morning.”
“Ellie!” you yell, throwing something at the door. There goes another toilet roll.
“Can you stop trashing my bathroom and just come out?” “Promise me!” “Fine—” Ellie clips. “Promise. I would Pinky promise, but that requires you coming out of the bathroom.”
Finally, she hears the door unlock. You pull it open, and fuck – there you are. Eyes sleepy and features flustered. Your t-shirt is askew, and Ellie fleetingly remembers pushing her hands beneath it, dragging her nails against your back.
You hold your little finger out, “Pinky promise to never think about it or bring it up ever again?”
Ellie nods and wraps her Pinky around yours, heat still swelling in her belly. “Promise.”
Ellie always was good at lying.
PART THREE
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thethingything · 1 month
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for some ungodly reason our brain has decided I get to spend basically the whole day freaking out whenever I'm not distracted and also sometimes randomly in the middle of doing stuff so I've had like 5 panic attacks and been really jittery and on edge in between those and I'd really fucking like that to stop. what the fuck is even going on
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sunnys-out · 4 months
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Alexia, mi reinita, mi amor, mi todo | Alexia Putellas x Reader
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A/N: Not me wanting to get this out still on Alexia's birthday like I'm turning an essay in at midnight. Ok honestly I would write a part two of this but that's only if people are interested. Again requests are closed for now.
So it's a little angsty, has a little hurt/comfort (I know this woman gives the best hugs let's be real), and some Alexia fluff.
Based on this prompt list: #4, #20
Warnings: Anxiety/panic attack symptoms
WC: 1860
Alexia had resolved it in herself that she would use whatever leverage she had to have you stay at Barcelona. She was not the type to use that card…she was not that kind of player…the type to threaten to leave to get what she wanted, but the thing she wanted was you. She had tried to speak with some of the staff about it but they were “conveniently busy”. With no success, she texts you “Voy a casa, te veo pronto, amor” (I’m going home, I’ll see you soon, love)  before driving over to your shared home.
Barcelona was dragging their feet with regards to your contract of whether you would be renewed or be traded to some other club, some other league, some other country. You had spent 4 years dedicated to Barcelona and had earned your spot in the midfield. The statistics you pulled throughout your career there were phenomenal, the kind that made your girlfriend proud to see because she was there from the beginning. So why was Barcelona playing a cat and mouse game with your livelihood?
______________________________________________________________
“Alexia, mi Reinita, mi amor, mi todo (my little queen, my love, my everything),
You know that I am better with my words written on paper than spoken to you. You still make me nervous when I look at you; I still blush as quickly as I did when we first met. I write this to you because I’m going to America to Bay FC…the deal has been done and the announcements will be out in a couple of weeks, but I wanted you to be the first to know. 
______________________________________________________________
The amount of times that Alexia had found you at that kitchen table with your head covered by your arms crying out your frustrations at another deal that went nowhere. She would never say a word and just quietly wrapped her arms around you and kissed the back of your head before laying hers on it. Once the crying stopped her hand would gently rub your back until eventually you began to move and pulled her into a hug with your head at her abdomen with a quick whisper of “let’s go to sleep”. Her only words would be “of course, cariño (dear)”.
______________________________________________________________
I know how you are mi amor (my love) but fighting the club is not worth it. It is hard to swallow the reality that the club that I grew up watching, grew up to play in, does not carry the same love and dedication I had for them…for me. You were one of the first people I met 4 years ago when I transferred from my club team in Mexico. It was a big move and you were there to just welcome me in, you knew immediately that I did not take change very well and was uncomfortable with everything. 
______________________________________________________________
Alexia, at some point, blocked some sports news outlets on your social media because of how overwhelming the “(y/n) Transfer Rumor” posts were getting for you. You did not want to leave Barcelona, you had made a home there with Alexia and the thought of leaving all of what you had terrified you. 
You could already hear the comments from the “fans” questioning your loyalty, why you couldn’t just confirm that you would be staying at Barça or leaving the team all together, why you were silent on the rumors? Alexia would be there with her head on your shoulder quietly holding you in the kitchen quieting the noises in your head with a simple kiss to the temple.
“Mi princesa, go sit down.. I’ll make dinner” she’d whisper into your hair as she led you to the table and made dinner while you watched with warmth at the woman before you. 
______________________________________________________________
I remember you would tease me about my accent when I spoke Spanish and said you would give me lessons if I made you a bag after you saw me crocheting mine on the bus to my first away game. I know that the Spanish lessons were just a way to spend time with me. You could have asked me to be with you at any point and I would have said yes. I remember you teaching me how to dance in our kitchen one night after saying that I was worried about making a fool out of myself at my brother’s wedding. I’m going to miss our 3 am dances we would do when I was pacing the kitchen stressed out of my mind on this transfer.
As you said, “Here I don’t want you to walk back and forth alone, just dance with me instead…I'm here”. I still remember the feeling of you under my palms; every curve, every line as I would take the lead of the dance and you would look at me calmly guiding my hands like how you did when you first taught me…yeah I’ll miss those quiet moments the most. 
______________________________________________________________
You had not gone to practice that morning due to stomach issues and you had to basically push Alexia out of the door so that she went to practice. 
“I’ll get some rest do not worry, mi Reinita” You say as she answers with a quick kiss.
She grabs her bags and gives another kiss pulling you in,“I’ll be home as soon as I'm done ok?”.
Alexia entered through the doorway of the shared home and saw several moving boxes littered on the floor. Confused, she looks for you as there is not the usual soft music that you play when you are doing chores and finds you wrapped in a blanket sound asleep on the couch.
Her bag is gently put to the ground as she rounds the corner of the couch. She sees the coffee table littered with papers and your phone with an unread message from her.
She quietly looms over the papers, seeing a copy of your original Barcelona contract, the proposal, the rejection to the proposal, another club offer and, finally, the letter to confirm intention to transfer. Your phone lights up with another notification; getting the attention of Alexia who notices the handwritten letter that remained unfinished under your phone. 
You were a semi - heavy sleeper so she picked up the letter and began to read as her soft smile appeared, fell and then reappeared.  The boxes made sense now, you were organizing your things ahead of time to leave. Seems that you received the news that morning, explaining why the staff were busy when Alexia tried her best to speak with them.
She looked down at your handwriting again…she’s so familiar with it as you have always littered her spaces with sticky notes of encouragement, love and everything in between. You always thought she had thrown them away but on your 2nd year anniversary she showed you the box where she had kept every single note that you had written to her. 
It didn’t matter to her; she kept all the ones that said “Hi Ale, can you get some milk?”, “Reinita, there is dinner in the fridge”, “I’m too lazy, I ordered pizza oh and I guess Patri is coming over?’ 
This letter no matter how long she will keep especially close to her.
Alexia sat at the other end of the couch and began to read the last bit of the letter.
______________________________________________________________
I know that I will be so far from you and that you will miss the things that I do. You were always a romantic like that mi amor (my love). That’s why I am going to leave you my favorite book, the one that I always read way too many times and have cried over just as much. The only thing that I ask is that you don’t open it until I am gone and you are missing me. Just saying not to is going to make you want to open the book even more but please listen to me on this one. :)
I don’t know what the fixtures of the NWSL are yet but I know that you will want to -
______________________________________________________________
You stir and stretch out your legs pushing Alexia in the process. The resistance pulled you from your sleep.
Alexia laughs softly as she pats your leg, “Sleep well, cariño (dear)?” 
You only nod as you rub the sleep from your eyes. Without a word, you sit up and look at Alexia who fiddles with the note that you had written. 
“I wish I was at least awake when you found out, amor (love)” you start as you shift over to be closer to her.
“Are you mad at me?” your head now lying on her shoulder.
Alexia looks, almost, offended at the comment as she turns to you.
“This is your decision, cariño, you know that I will support in whatever you do and wherever you go…I’m sad, yes, but seeing you living out your dreams has been a honor for me…so no I’m not mad solamente bien orgullosa de ti (only very proud of you)”.
She pulls you closer, her hand softly rubbing your arm as she hears the small sniffles coming from you.
“Promise me you’ll watch at least one game” you say softly.
Alexia laughs and kisses the top of your head, “Amor, I’ll watch every one”.
______________________________________________________________
The announcement came and went and so did you. You found yourself preparing for the inaugural season for Bay FC. The fans had taken a liking to you immediately and the management welcomed you with open arms. 
Alexia, remained in your shared home that now was quieter without your presence. The spaces that normally were filled with little posts were bare, the days for chores weren’t filled with your questionable music, and Alexia no longer needed to dance in the kitchen at 3 am.
After a particularly hard practice, Alexia returned home missing you more than usual. As she plopped down on the couch her eyes fell on your book that you left behind for her.
She remembered that you had asked her to not open it until you were gone to your new club.
Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe by Fannie Flagg, it was the book that you read every year during the summer without fail. No matter how many times you read it, Alexia would see you tear up and close the book to compose yourself before continuing. 
She got the book and opened to the first page and seeing a small, sticky note,
“I miss you, mi reinita”.
Alexia flipped the page and found another one,
“You can text my mom for her soup recipe, she’d only give it to you”
A laugh escapes her as she continues through the book finding more and more of your notes that you had written out. She skips to the end and finds an older looking note.
“I love you, Alexia Putellas…” with the date of your 1st anniversary with Alexia.
And below with newer ink and dated the day that you had left.
“And I… I still love you, even after all of this time”.
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thatfreshi · 9 months
Note
Could I request an Astarion/GN!reader(Tav) where reader has trauma around their throat being touched and stuff but bears through the panic attacks just so Astarion can feed and Astarion only finds out after they make camp and confronts reader/Tav about their mental breakdown after a battle they had prior in the day?(reader got grabbed forcefully by the neck?) Essentially a bit of angst and comfort?
Set in act 2!!
TW - choking, panic attack, disordered eating behaviors
Recommended Song: Don't Invest In Me - Adam Melchor
Battle is horrifying, something Astarion never truly quite realized until he fell in love you with. He's talented, especially at killing people. He's never had to worry in a fight, because it was always just him. Now he has to worry about you, and it's painful, not being able to be by your side constantly, watching you in perilous situations, looking death right in the eye. When your group ran into a few violent adventurers yesterday, you weren't expecting any trouble. Suddenly, metal clashing, magic moving through the trees. Astarion moved quickly, offing one of the offenders almost immediately. When he turned to see who was next, bloodlust in his eyes, he saw you being held by the throat. You were frozen, running out of oxygen, tears welling at your eyes. He ran through the trees, running his blade through your captor's back.
"Tav? My dear, are you alright?"
You can't speak, utterly shocked. No one had ever tried to choke you in the throes of battle, and it reminded you of awful things, things that were better left unsaid. He checks you for any other wounds as you're trapped in your own mind. The fighting continues, but he doesn't care. All that matters is you, the others can handle themselves just fine. And if not, that's their loss, not his.
After thoroughly checking you over, he can't find anything else of concern. The bruising on your neck though, it's black and blue already. Racing thoughts, wondering if there's been any lasting damage. He can't decide if he should be more concerned about the fact that you're practically frozen in place or if your windpipe is destroyed.
"The fuck are you doing? We have shit to deal with!"
Karlach silences her complaints when she sees you lying on the ground. Astarion doesn't even look up at her, afraid. He's only ever truly had one thing, one thing that was his, and that's you. Everything else feels so impermanent, but you? You're constant.
"Astarion! Astarion!"
She yells out his name until he finally snaps back to look at your tiefling friend.
"Take Tav back to camp, we've got it covered."
Karlach then runs off, back to assist Wyll with a shadow-covered half-elf. You groan in pain, your neck on fire. As you start to come back to reality, you realize you're in the vampire's arms, a vampire currently moving through the dark as quickly as possible. Neither of you have lights on you, but he knows there are still torches lit at camp, he just has to get there before the shadow curse starts to take hold. You're light-headed, both from lack of oxygen and the panic attack.
"Where...?"
"Hush darling, it's alright. We're almost there, almost to camp."
Through a couple more feet of trees, the two of you make it, bathing in the warm light of the torches posted behind the brush. He takes you back to your tent, where your bedrolls lie side by side. He silently curses himself for not knowing any healing magic, promising himself he'll finally learn after this.
"Aster?"
You call out groggily.
"Yes my love, I'm right here."
Ceasing the nervous pacing, he sits by your side.
"What... what happened?"
He almost doesn't want to say, worried about how you reacted while it was happening.
"One of the shadow-cursed, they... they had you in a nasty chokehold, and I killed them."
You shift, wishing he didn't have to know about all of this.
"Sorry."
"About what darling? You've done nothing wrong."
"About not telling you- not telling you about it."
You're gasping to get your words out, your throat clearly damaged. He furrows his brow in concerned confusion.
"I- I really don't like people touching my neck, doing anything to it to be honest. Wasn't expecting one of them to grab me like that."
Coughing at the end of your sentence, you don't see Astarion's eyes travel through his thoughts, realizing what that means.
"Darling... you let me feed off of you almost every evening."
You smile a little.
"I know."
He grabs one of your hands, clasping it in both of his.
"I'll never do it again. I'm so sorry, I had no idea."
Frantic, worried he's done something irreversibly wrong.
"No, no Aster it's okay. Does it suck sometimes? Yeah, but I need you to be healthy. Besides, what's a better way to work through your trauma than exposure therapy?"
"That's not fair. I can find something else, some other way."
"And what, go back to forest animals? You know there's nothing for you out here, in the darkness."
"Then I'll simply starve! Done it before, I'll do it again."
Gods, he's stubborn. You don't blame him, he would never want to cross anyone's boundaries after his have been trampled a million times.
"My love, come here."
You reach out, beckoning to pull him down beside you.
"If I didn't want to do it, I wouldn't. You need to feed, and I can provide that. You do plenty for me, let me do this one thing for you."
"But, but you hate it."
"Yeah. Those two things can coexist, my hate for people touching my neck, and my love for you. I can put up with the anxiety if it means you're okay."
"I would be okay though."
You cup his face in your hand, making sure he's looking at you.
"I'm telling you I'm okay, and that you deserve more than rats. Okay?"
You've been around him long enough, you know his logic. If he survived for two hundred years living off of flies and rats, he certainly doesn't need blood like yours. If he had starved for an entire year, he could take a few months before getting to Baldur's Gate. Sometimes you have to remind him that survival mode isn't living, that he's allowed to have nice things. Tears fall from his eyes.
"Are you sure my sweet? Absolutely certain?"
"Of course, and if I ever needed you to stop I would tell you, promise."
You put your pinky out, and he stares at it.
"What... what are you doing? Is this you offering me to feed off a singular finger? Because if so, that's uh-"
"No, gods! It's a pinky promise."
"A... a what?"
You start laughing, so hard that you start coughing again, tears falling down your face.
"You've never heard of a pinky promise?"
It pulls at your heart a little, realizing he probably never had anyone teach him.
"I guess I haven't."
You put your pinky out, and he does the same, and then you hook yours, interlacing the small finger with his.
"There, I pinky promise that I'll tell you if you need to stop feeding on me."
As you pull your hand away, he looks confused.
"And that's what, some non-verbal contract?"
"I guess so Mr. Magistrate."
You start laughing again.
"Okay, you have thoroughly scared me, and made me cry, and teased me, in one night! I'm not sure how much more I can take."
There's a hint of humor in his tone. Honestly, he also thinks it's ridiculous that he was a magistrate, considering he was terrible at it, at least from the small things he remembers.
"Well, it's over now. I'm okay, and we're safe."
He narrows his eyes.
"I'm still going to have Shadowheart look over you when the rest return."
"Well, that's your fault for not learning healing magic."
"Okay, you don't know any magic, so I don't want to hear it!"
The two of you stay up for hours, laughing at stupid jokes, hysterical from the tragedy that evening. Sometimes after something horrible, you just need a good laugh, especially with your easily provoked lover.
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webslingingslasher · 3 months
Note
cherry buys the cherry lube (best kind) as her last step to convince peter to fuck her and he just sighs JDBDDN
she’s just a girl😔 he needs to give her what she wants! in the name of feminism
an: nsfw content!
sitting crisscrossed in peter’s bed, you reach over the side to grab a small bag from your backpack. the thin plastic had three red thank you’s printed across it. you raise it over your head and give it a shimmy.
‘guess what i got?’
‘a lamborghini.’
‘so close! okay, you know that sex shop off that exit with the chinese place?’
‘no.’
‘oh. i’ll have to take you-’
‘no thanks.’
‘- but i went there and i found something. something i think you’d like and something you think we’d need.’
‘i’m scared.’
‘i’m not!’ you shake out the bag, a palm sized bottle of lube falls, it lands on your lap and you quickly present it to peter with a proud smile.
‘lube?’ you shove it out into his hands, ‘look at the flavor!’ peter squints at the bottle, then scoffs. ‘really? cherry?’
‘oh c’mon, it’s perfect!’ you start listing off why, ‘you call me cherry, you’re taking my cherry, and it’s cherry lube, to do said previous thing.’
you’re waiting for his excitement, you reach forward to push at his cheeks, forcing a smile. ‘what? you don’t find it funny? i thought i’d at least get a chuckle from you.’
peter watches as you tear the plastic around the cap with your teeth. ‘do you think it actually tastes like cherry?’ you stick out your tongue and put a small drop on it, you hold it out to peter and wave your hand along.
he’s got hesitant eyes when his own darts out, you give him the same amount. your face sours at the taste, peter has a poker face. ‘ew.’ it sticks around, you wipe your tongue off with your shirt.
'that was gross- unless you like it, i assume you'd be doing most of the tasting.' peter tosses the bottle into a trashcan you didn't know he had. 'is that new?' peter shakes his head, you tilt yours and try to place it. 'weird. never noticed it before. also, you owe me four dollars.'
'why do i have to pay you back?'
'you threw it away.'
'it was inedible.'
'false. i could've used it by myself.'
'go dig it out then.'
'i deserve more than trash lube, peter.'
'consider it a favor, you shouldn't be using scentsy stuff down below. i've heard they don't like it.'
you squint at him, 'what's it for then?' peter looks down at his crotch, 'blowjobs.' you drop your mouth a little, that hadn't occurred to you. 'oh, i see.' you have a moment where things click into place. 'so that would also explain flavored condoms.'
'please tell me you didn't get flavored condoms.'
'of course not.'
peter relaxes, you prefer him on edge.
'i don't know what size you wear. is it a one size fits all thing cause i've seen those videos where people hang them out the car window and they turn into balloons.'
'think of it as a pair of leggings. could you fit into a pair three sizes too small? sure can. is it comfortable? absolutely not.'
‘and ones that are too big just fall off? that explains a lot, actually.’
‘personally, i’d be more mortified if a condom came off because it was too big versus just admitting i need a smaller size.’
your eye twinkles, ‘and what size are you?’
‘you buy the tampons, i buy the condoms. deal?’ you can't lie, learning male anatomy has been your favorite part in all of this.
peter lays back with his hands behind his head, you straddle his lap and he's watching with close eyes. 'what? i can't get comfortable?'
he smiles. sometimes you get a ping in your lower stomach when he looks at you like that.
'all this bedspace and you choose to get comfortable on me?'
'i have a feeling this will be my favorite seat.' a smug grin.
'you're bold for a virgin.'
'would you rather me be scared to be near you, a man with a penis?' peter's head tilts, you know what's coming. 'oh? so you didn't have a panic attack when you saw my dick?'
you twitch your nose at the quip, you pat his tummy, hovering over his waistline. 'speaking of, you should let me see him again. i'm prepared and i wanna touch.'
peter's ignoring the spike in his blood pressure, he doesn't like the gleam in your eye. 'or... i think i have a suggestion for how you can make up the four dollars you owe me.'
'i owe you nothing, but lets hear it.'
you act out your words. 'you,' you point at him. 'me,' you point at yourself. 'having sex,' you gesture to your placement, then the bare spot next to him. before he can ruin it, you continue. 'right now.'
'do you think if you keep asking i'll say yes on a whim?' you lean in, inches from his face. 'you want to have sex with me. you want to take me to pound town. you want to make me a real woman.' it's a poor attempt at hypnotizing.
'okay, well, being a virgin doesn't mean you're not a real woman. second, you still get nervous about making out with me. you're not ready for sex.'
okay, maybe so. it's not your fault you don't know how to act around him, he's the first guy you've seen for longer than a week and he's not your boyfriend.
'i'm not anxious about kissing you.'
'oh, really? do it then.' he called your bluff. you've kissed people before but this whole arrangement was peter's idea so you've left all the initiation to him.
'fine, i'll kiss you.' you make no movements.
'i'm waiting.' you swallow tightly and move in, he's got that smile that makes your heart beat fast, you still haven't pinpointed why. 'i'm going to kiss you.' peter nods, 'go ahead.'
you get closer, 'i'm seriously gonna do it.'
'c'mon, cherry. i hate a tease.' you power through the part of your brain that tells you you've never kissed a guy, you've always waited for them to kiss you. you hold your breath and land a peck on his mouth.
'there. i did it.'
'did what? kiss me like i dared you?’ he finds it funny, that's what you get for being bold. you won't make him laugh this time. you move quick, your lips melt over his, you always forget how good of a kisser he is until you have your mouth on his and you never want to separate again.
it becomes sloppy, when you lick his bottom lip peter groans, it sends a spark to your thighs and you involuntarily clench around nothing. you gasp when you're flipped onto your back, peter's dotting a line over your jaw.
when a rough hand skids under your shirt, you suck in a breath.
'relax.' 
it's easier said than done. peter's right, you talk a big game but when he actually tries to do what you want, you hit the panic button.
'sorry, i was just thinking about the four bucks you owe me.'
'don't lie when i'm about to get handsy.' you squirm when fingers tuck themselves into the band of your bra. 'handsy how?' it's peter's turn to take control.
'how do you feel about hitting second base?'
'you're gonna finger me?' your voice pitches while your mind starts racing, you weren't prepared for this. 'easy, killer. second base is just me feeling you up, when you're ready for more, let me know.'
relief floods you, you get more comfortable underneath him. 'oh, okay. yeah, you can get handsy. do you want me to take my shirt off?'
'i want to suck your tits, you decide.'
your entire body flushes warmth, your cheeks are like lava. 'oh! i've never had that done. does it feel good?'
'i don't know, but i'm here if you want to find out.' you nibble on your bottom lip, it's all about eventually having sex and part of that might include your boobs.
'i'd like to find out.'
peter doesn't rush into it. for someone who doesn't like to be teased, he loves teasing. it feels like an hour passes before you're bare chested, a slurry of insecurity flashes when he doesn't immediately go to town.
'you're beautiful.' peter feels a little silly saying it, he hasn't really complimented a girl so softly under the guise of sex before.
your heart pounds, you've never heard it said so authentically. peter genuinely believes what he's saying, you don't think a guy has ever called you beautiful. you've gotten hot and sexy but never beautiful. you feel the need to give him something back.
'you're handsome.' you might be bad at this, you feel his smile in the crook of your neck.
'thanks, cherry.'
slow marks dance over your collarbones, when they reach your chest you almost flinch. 'i'm okay.' you were speaking to yourself, but maybe peter also needs the reminder. 'are you trying to convince me or yourself?'
'yes.'
'you can tap out. no harm, no foul.' no, you got this far and if you back out it would be taking ten steps backwards. 'i'm not tapping out, i'm waiting to see if what you're saying is worth all the hoopla.'
peter snorts, 'hoopla.' you're about to give a rebuttal, instead you grip the back of his head and let out a breathy 'oh wow,' when peter swirls his tongue around you.
it's igniting you all over, you don't know why you thought it would feel bad. when there's a vacuum seal and peter starts sucking, you're a goner. when he mixes in that little twirl method, you let out an earth shattering moan.
your hand slams over your mouth. 'sorry! i've never done that before and i-' there's a dark look in peter's eyes, you can't decide if he's more upset about your words or making him stop.
'don't ever apologize for your pleasure. got it?' you nod quickly, you'd agree to anything if it meant peter would keep going. 'okay, okay, got it.' it's all he needs and he's back to work, the breast he doesn't have in his mouth is being treated with his hand.
there's double sensation, peter's going back and forth and now you can't think straight and... and... you're about to come and you've never done that in front of another person.
'please stop!'
peter drops his mouth open and freezes, he's moving with caution when he pulls away from you. you race for air while the knot in your stomach slowly untangles.
'are you okay?' peter's looking over every inch of your body, you smile sheepishly and look anywhere but him. 'yeah. i was just like... you know?'
'no.'
'i was gonna... you know? and i've never done that with another person.' peter's trying to jump through the hoops of your 'you know?'s' you say that a lot and very rarely does he actually know what you mean.
'you were about to come?' everything burns, how is he so casual about all of this? 'yeah.' the look on his face tells you he already knew that. 'what did you think the point was? just for fun?'
'you didn't tell me that! how was i supposed to know?' he gives a half shrug. 'it gets some people off and others need more. it was a gamble, nice to know which crowd you fit in though.'
you feel a bit silly, of course that was the intention. wasn't this whole thing about your pleasure? 'if you get me off, i have to get you off.' peter's quick to shut you down.
'you don't have to do anything. sex isn't transactional.'
'yeah, but, peter, i want to please you too. this doesn't do much for me if you keep me away from you.' peter takes your concern to heart, he nods thoughtfully and calmly explains his hesitation.
'i understand that, and i promise we'll get there. mutual pleasure is something we need to conquer before sex, yes. but for right now, as someone who's done those things for a while, i'm on the backburner. i need to catch you up to speed on some things first, okay? you've never come in front of someone, you don't need to be trying to tack blowjob skills on top of that.'
peter has an excellent argument, you just feel bad he's not getting anything in return. he doesn't owe you anything, he's just doing you a favor and he absolutely doesn't owe you loyalty. it's not like peter likes you, he's just doing you a favor, that's all this is.
'just because...' your tongue feels thick, it feels hard to say what you're about to say and you don't know why. 'just because you're helping me out doesn't mean you have to suffer. so if you want to hookup with someone more experienced while we-'
'no. that's not what this is about, that mentality is why we're not just jumping into sex. cherry lube or not.' you don't know why that relieves you, you don't know why you feel so much better knowing peter wasn't looking for anything with anyone else.
just in case; 'if you do hook up with someone else-'
'i won't.'
'-i believe you. but if you do, can you promise not to tell me? if you need to take care of yourself outside of this just don't let me find out, please.' it'd be crushing to know what peter's doing with you while knowing he's doing the same thing with another girl who could actually pleasure him back.
'cherry, seriously, that's not what this is about.' it's sex. it's only about sex. how could you be confusing it?
'sex is about open and honest communication. it's about trusting each other and being vulnerable. it doesn't matter if it's a one night stand or a committed relationship, it takes a lot to open up to someone else like that. if, and i wouldn't, but i'll entertain you- if i wanted to step out of this, i'd tell you first, because that's what you're supposed to do.'
when you picked peter out of the line of frat boys you had no idea you got the one who was all about slow and steady. you expected a quick one night and to be sent off to live the world as a non-virgin, not the beefy gentleman in front of you.
'you're one of a kind, parker.' peter winks at you, you feel warm. 'same to you, cherry. this only works if we're open with each other, i'm not just teaching you the physical parts of sex, i'm trying to show you the mental and emotional side of it because that's way more important than the actual sex, does that make sense?'
you think you get what he's saying. 'so, because you already know these things, your pleasure doesn't matter right now?'
'correct.'
'and if it matters to me?'
'don't let it. because if it becomes an issue i'll...' he trails off, he's waiting on you to finish it for him. you'll prove you've been listening. 'tell me.'
'bingo! look at you, cherry smart.' you groan, 'that was gross.' peter squeezes your knee, he's looking over your face for any hesitation, he doesn't see any.
'are we good? we're on the same page now?'
you nibble on your bottom lip, you think you covered everything. you didn't know there were so many things to sex. 'yeah, same page.' peter's happy with that, he nods once and turns back on the horny part of his brain.
'still wanna call it quits or keep going?'
same page, same page, same page, same-
'keep going.' you sound nervous, peter catches it. 'are you sure? we can put it on pause and-'
'no, i wanna...' time to be a big girl, you're both on the same page. 'i wanna have you make me...' you lose your tenacity but you still power through, even if you mumble the last word. 'come.'
peter tells you if you wanna stop, at any point for any reason, just call it like you did before. you agree but tell yourself you were going to get through it because the sooner you open yourself up for pleasure, the sooner peter opens himself up for the same thing.
it's not a hard thing to power through, this time you're not shy about quiet whimpers or tugging at the back of peter's hair. 'oh my god,' you squeeze your eyes shut, there are zings of want being sent into your core, it's an unreal feeling.
peter grazes his teeth over your nipple, your back arches from his bed. 'okay, yeah, shit, fuck, okay.' you're bad at staying calm, peter's humming into your skin, you want more. you want everything he's given you multiplied by ten.
a switch to your left breast, it's just as satisfying. when his thumb tweaks your bud, you push up further. 'i want more, please more.' you don't know what you're asking for, you're hoping peter will help you out.
peter sucks harshly, your breath hitches and at that perfect moment, he grinds his hips into yours. an egregious moan rips from your throat, you can't help the tumbling whimper, it sounds pathetic. peter must like it, he rolls harsher, his jeans meet your bottoms perfectly.
'doin' okay?' you answer by shoving his head back down. 'mhm, keep doing that please.' peter follows  the instruction, whatever gets you off, he'll do.
bump and grind, he's back on your right tit. it's been ten minutes but you can already tell he prefers that one. it took longer to build because you edged yourself, but peter hit that one spot and your thighs are a vice grip around his hips.
'oh my fucking god, peter.' he said he doesn't know if it would feel good, you wish you could share a fraction of what you're experiencing. your lower stomach tightens, peter latches down harder as if he has a sixth sense for what you're about to do.
you don't know what to do with your hands, when you grit your teeth and meet his miniature thrusts, they land on peter's arms and your nails dig in. your eyes slam closed, you see white light as if your picture was taken with the flash on.
'shit, shit, shit, shit!' you swear you're drawing blood from him but all you can think about is the heat exploding from your body. your hips buck they never have before, there's a sense of delight backing it up.
you've never had an orgasm like this in your entire life. it feels so different with another person, it felt like it was never ending. your legs feel like they locked up, you stop breathing for a solid second before you're gasping.
peter pulls back, your head is still spinning. your chest rapidly rises and falls, you feel marks over your face but you're so far away in your mind it's muddled.
'c'mon, come back to me.' you feel more awake, there's a wet kiss to your cheek, then another to your chin. 'c'mon, cherry. find your mind.' you do, your eyes open, you forgot you had them closed. it's like peeling them apart.
you feel wrecked.
'hi.' peter's got a cocky grin, he deserves it. you run your hand down your face, you feel fuzzy. 'hi.' you remember the harm you might've caused, you slightly shake when you reach for peter's arm, there's no marks.
'how are you feeling?' like you're leaking into his mattress, like every muscle is weighed down, like you couldn't stand up if you tried. the best you can come up with is, 'floaty.'
'that might stick around for a minute. want some water?' you hadn't thought of it before, but suddenly you feel parched. peter reads your mind, he's already holding out his water bottle.
'everything's better right after, no idea why.' peter guesses it's something with endorphins and brain chemicals, but he's never bothered to actually look into it.
after sitting up, you chug. even after the water you're still breathless. 'holy shit.' falling forward, peter catches you. you lay on him as a half hug, all he's doing is supporting your weight. you feel terribly heavy right now.
'thank you so much, oh my god. holy shit, a guy just made me come in my pants, what the fuck is my life?' a sprinkle of kisses from your ear to your cheek, 'don't build my ego too much or you'll have to deal with it.'
'i feel so heavy right now.' you drop to the pillow at peter's push, you don't have it in you to fight back. it's not necessary because peter falls right next to you and scoops you into his hold.
or, another way to put it, peter's cuddling you. peter's cuddling you while he's kissing your shoulder, it makes your head spin even more. 'what are you doing?' you're not fighting him on it, if anything you're leaning in further, he's just never cuddled you before. it feels nice.
'aftercaring you. doing my best to get you back down to earth from your floaty space.' you nod like you understand, there's still some things you need to get better at.
'hey, peter?'
'yeah?' he's much quieter.
'you don't owe me four dollars anymore.' a puff of hot air into your skin, at least he finds you funny. 'good. you were never gonna get it anyways.' 
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theosmommy1966 · 15 days
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Unfair Love
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Your fingers were cramping from how hard you were holding the door. Your eyes mad to be deceiving you, Regulus fucking Black cant be standing in front of you. The guy you loved from the simply age of 5 all the way until the end of school. He had been your best friend, the guy you pined over for years and years while he pushed you aside every time he got a girlfriend. Only to suck you right back in when he got bored. 
“No..” You said moving to close the door to your brother's manor. Tom, Mattheo and You were triplets. Magical beings already formed crazy connections but the three of you could literally feel each other and each other's major feelings. So the shock and pain of seeing Regulus had pulled them from the upstairs living room to the top of the stairs. Leaning against opposite walls, Tom positions so he could see down the stairs easily keeping an eye on you while being positioned in a way to be easily overlooked. 
When Regulus pushed his way in, it took everything in both of them to stay put but your voice stopped them. “Tom is home. If that's not bad enough, so is Mattheo. Do not come any further into my home Regulus.” Regulus paused just inside the door, while he had been friends with both boys in school. He also knew they were fiercely protective of their ‘baby’ sister. They would kill each other if the other hurt her, so they would easily Avada him if he pushed to hard. 
“Y/n.. Dont marry him.” He said in a nonchalant tone. Acting like he wasnt rocking her world and trying to crumble her relationship to pieces. “ Regulus.. Your being a dick.” You said unconsciously stepping towards the stairs and pulling your hands up to your chest. He stepped towards you and smiled in a cocky way that made you want to slap him “Come on y/n/n, you know you its always been me.. Dont marry him.” 
Those words sparked anger in your gut. 
Stepping towards him this time you sneer. “I was second to every single girl that even looked your way in school! You literally asked me to the yule ball and then FORGOT and went with some girl from Ravenclaw! I cant.. I wont.. I.. I..” It felt like a let down to your last name when that spark died and never turned into a fire as you started to almost hyperventilate. Every time he broke your heart played through your head as his eyes flicked above your head. 
You didnt need to turn around to know your brothers were coming down. Mattheo was past you quickly, having moved before your breathing even got uneven. Tom wasnt as familiar with panic and anxiety attacks as you and he were. He didnt stop to comfort you as he grabbed his old friend harshly and jerked him out the door. He didnt slam it on his way out knowing that would just startle you and make it worse. 
Tom had always for some reason been the one you went to for comfort. You thought it was probably just because he was the ‘oldest’. He was the one who retucked you into bed when you had bad dreams even though he was the same age. He had always just carried himself in a way that gave big brother vibes. Every where you went people thought you and Matt were twins and Tom was the older brother. 
He would always have a hard time dealing with others feelings but he always made the most effort for his siblings. When you collapsed onto the stairs and started sobbing he moved the rest of the way to you quickly. He tries to get you to calm your breathing but its like you cant hear him. He does the only thing he knows too, the same thing he use to do when you were children and he couldnt wake you from a nightmare. Pressing his forehead to yours he gently entered your mind. it was easy to find you in panic because when all the thoughts finally formed into a picture you were stood frozen while everything moved around you. 
Him saying your name broke your focus as you turned confused then relieved to see him. “Tommy” You said in a broken whisper as he reached for you, tucking your head against his shoulder and hugging you he looked around. “Lets walk through all this, yeah?” Nodding against his chest “I just feel so much right now.. Im so mad at Regulus. Ive tried my entire life to be what he wants, to be someone he sees but he never did. I was just someone to placate his ego in between relationships.” 
Tom watches as memories of you crying, of Regulus manipulating you and leaving flash around him and he squeezes tighter. “He hasnt spoken t-to me in years and then he just shows up here the night before Im supposed to get married?!” You sob and then suck in a harsh breath “Oh my god. Teddy.. Whats he going to think when he finds out I was crying over another man when im supposed to be relaxing and getting ready to marry him!” 
You pull away and pull out of your head and then away from Tom in the real world. Standing you start to pace and pull at your hair. Tom sighs and stands to try and stop you but the door flies open. Mattheo running in frantically looking for you, only to be shoved out of the way by your tall sandy blond fiancee. “Tesoro” He barley whispers as he rushes to pull you into his arms. Your knees giving out again but he keeps you up. His huge hand cups the back of your head and neck as he shushes you gently. 
Theo swears his heart is breaking as your shoulders rack with sobs. He turns to look at his other best friends, Tom is staring at the door, clearing pissed and trying to stay put. Mattheo is pulling at his own hair when he sees the questions in his friends eyes. Hes struggling because he wants to tell him so he can better comfort you, but he doesnt want to betray your trust. Thankfully he doesnt have to, you can feel his panic and pull away just enough too look up. “Regulus was here.” 
Theos head snaps back to you and he tries to reign in his feelings quickly knowing that they will all play out on his face. His first feeling was worry, he had worked so hard to show you how you should actually be treated. So many dates where he couldnt even hold your hand yet. Regulus had treated you so poorly from day one that his nontoxic love was foreign and unwelcome. 
You had grown up in vastly different environments. Birthing triplets had killed your mother. While your father wasn't horrible or abusive, he was unattentive. He would rather you have a nanny (who he sleeps with before replacing and repeating) then try and raise you alone. While Theo grew up with parents who not only loved him but each other. 
Next was anger at the audacity. Then was worry again but this time for you. Taking a deep breath and taking your cheek in one hand he wipes your tears away. “Ok, tell me why your so upset by that. We have to be on the same page to talk through this. Can we go sit down?” you shake your head and pull him up the stairs, away from your brothers to your room. You let go of his hand and keep walking straight for your bathroom. 
After a few mintues long arms wrapped around you, crossing over and gripping your upper arms. “Im here, Tesoro. Whenever your ready.” You didnt register any measure of time as you stood under the water with him holding you and pressing kisses to your neck and shoulder. “I dont deserve you theo..” you say so quietly he almost doesnt hear. Before he can ask what you mean your already speaking. “Here I am, the night before marrying you, crying over some other guy.. God im so horrible.” 
Before your hands can cover your face, Theo has spun you around and is tilting your face forcing you to look at him. He looks just a little annoyed as he speaks, “Dont say that. Do you remember what Tesoro means?” You sniffle and nod but he raises his eyebrows waiting for you to say it. “It means treasure.” He nods and smiles just a little “So.. My Tesoro couldnt be horrible.. I get it darling.. He was your first love, theres a lot of trauma there. I know your not crying because you miss him, your crying for 17 year old you, for 15 year old you and so on. And thats ok, because thats how we heal.” 
Theos heart warmed as you stare up at him in awe. “I know its difficult for you, my love. That this open communication and understanding isnt something that comes naturally too you. So youll have to give me just a little grace while I continue to learn to navigate you. I promise one day Ill be an expert.” He leans in and kisses your forehead, staying there for just a moment to give you both a second to pull yourselves together. 
When he pulled back the smile he loves was back on your face. He sighs happily and kisses your nose before looking at you. Everything was right in his world again, all he needed to do now, was wait for you to go to sleep. Because Regulus.. Well Theo completely understood where YOU were coming from. But Black? Nah. While tending to lean towards his mothers Hufflepuff nature, sometimes he needs to remind people why he was sorted into Slytherin. Why he became friends with The Dark Lords children. Why he and your brothers trusted him to care for you. And tonight, it would be Regulus` turn to learn. 
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