#feel free to play him at my funeral

[evesmascarade]

Suffering sweet like sickness scarred to a laugh, she’s my witness starting to crack. —Oliver Riot

[simpjaes]

ONE OF THE DAMNED GIRLS PT.1 (P.SH)

Moving to a city with wild nights and charming days felt like the perfect choice in your head upon finishing college. Hours away from home, you accept a job at a local museum ironically placed dead between a large historic cathedral and a booming gothic nightclub. You were meant to curate the art, not be curated yourself by a local priest who found you with buckled knees outside of said goth club. ― part two here!! | MINORS DNI

PAIRING ― vampire park sunghoon x afab reader  

WORDCOUNT ― 20.4k

CONTENT ―  modern vampire sunghoon, cathedral/chapel settings, blasphemous behavior, false holy facades, the main vampire trope i use is the act of drinking blood, luring, and living forever, heavy manipulation and toxic behaviors, mentions of reader being alt/goth

SIDE CHARACTERS―  jungwon as your very very best friend who has an installation at the museum (you guys are attached at the hip), jay as the hot bisexual bartender at the goth club, some goth guy named balor 

!WARNINGS! ― dubious consent (due to the act of mind manipulation), hunting and playing victim, a lot of blood: blood sucking, wounds/puncturing, menstruation in a sexual light, manipulation, near-death experiences, fainting, talk of death, acts of mind control/luring 

NOTE ― here is part one of the first vampire fic i've ever felt compelled to write in my life. shout out to me, myself, and i for being entirely deranged and coming up with on a whim based on a song a lovely anon sent to me. this is semi-proof read, and does require two parts to get the full story.

tags under cut

smut tags [ these tags refer to both parts of the fic] ― big meat sunghoon, biting, A LOT OF BLOOD, sucking and drinking of blood obv, pussy eating (once while reader is menstruating, and another time where she isn’t), deep penetration, rough sex, unprotected sex bc like…he’s dead so lmfao, missionary, scratching, dirty talk, body worship, praise, jungwon is involved in a bit of an erotic situation but there is not smut involving him, 

other tags [ these tags refer to both parts of the fic]― depictions of death, anti-religious language, the act of dying including intense descriptions of the feeling, mentions of pimping and human trafficking, corrupt government, dead nuns, funerals

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Upon moving to this city, all you have in your mind is the future. Of what could possibly come of you here? The museum is truly beautiful, propped in the center of the historic district, a mere ten or so blocks from your newly renovated apartment. 

Years worth of study has led you here and honestly you’re sure you never would have found this city as lovable as it is if it weren’t for those credit hours you poured into art history and architecture. Truly, you feel at home here. Especially working within the historic district at that beautiful museum. 

The rest of the city is quite modern. A bit boring to look at if you’re being honest but, thankfully, your place of work offers much for the eye to devour. The museum itself is quite victorian, with rococo styling throughout. Many could call this an eye sore, but you find yourself loving every inch of the place. You feel like a willow wisp in the clutches of that museum, and honestly you’re more than excited to grow bored of seeing such beauty on a day to day basis. 

Across the street sits another old building, also victorian in style. The large and tacky sign glowing with neon lights that reads “AFTER LIFE” goes to show that it’s very clearly a club. And the attire of those who go to and fro through the doors only further proves that it’s more than just that. It’s a goth club. 

Which, arguably, high-school you would’ve died to be able to attend. Thankfully, that little goth girl inside of you still lives strong and surely the club will be a place you’ll frequent during your free time. It’s not too hard to dress the part considering you are an art loser. The majority of your clothing consists of black, colored hair, and wild make up anyway. All you gotta do is forego the ratty coveralls or the typical business quirky you go for at work and you’re good to go. 

Last but not least regarding the charm of the historic district, your favorite site. One that is so profound to you and likely everyone else who visits this town mostly because, well, there isn’t much mention of it on any website regarding the city. In fact, you weren’t aware that such a place existed here until the day you came to view your apartment for the first time. 

Seeing it loom from the apartment window very nearly had you sign the lease without so much as looking at the cabinet space or the bathroom setup. 

No, nothing in that historic district, absolutely nothing in this city, rivals that of the cathedral that towers above both the club and museum. 

There, parked just three blocks down from your place of work, sits the cathedral. Clearly old but well maintained, you can just tell that the building has seen more than enough through the passing decades. The arches are pointed and towering, and the flying buttresses only further your heart to beat with love and admiration for what men could build at one point in time. 

You’ll never understand why the preferred style these days consists of primary shapes, anyway. Boxes, cones, spheres. Never twisting hallways or nooks and crannies to hide in. You miss the depth of which buildings used to be. Inside practically a maze, outside a wondrous presentation of knife-sharp features. So intricate, so many lines to trace.

What a shame to find yourself living in a space that’s a mish-mash of perfect boxes, but it’s not so bad when the window offers a daydream, at least. 

You’re in love each time you gaze upon the building, actually. It’s a forever reminder that no human being on this earth could make you feel such excitement. Perhaps you’re just a nerd for gothic architecture though. Honestly, it’s a shame that this cathedral seems to be a forgotten gem despite how it’s blatantly visible at almost any view point in the city. 

Fortunately for you, this only goes to show that the historic district is just that. There for those who admire, and not for those who gawk. There seems to be rarely any stray humans making their way down this street without at least an inkling of interest in the ancient life that’s been breathed here. 

If anything, the streets are filled with what you can assume to be open-minded individuals. Your first day at work showed that much. Tattooed bodies, pierced faces, wild hair, even wilder attire. Yes, you feel right at home. 

And despite the excitement of living in a new city where you seem to fit like a puzzle piece, life can still grow boring after a certain amount of time has passed. For you, it’s taken about three weeks of training, well-slept nights, and cozy days. 

Even through the summer, the nights still have a chill in the air. Which is nice but even your night-time walks have become an auto-pilot task that offers nothing new to your forever hungry brain. So, with the weekend fast approaching, you figure there’s no better time than now to dust off those hot platform boots you bought on a whim years ago and have yet to wear. 

You’re going to the booming “after life”. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Well.

“After life” is certainly a perfect name for the club if the intensity of the drinks alone is anything to go by. Inside is adorned with stark black walls and silver trim, loads upon loads of purple and red curtains, women and men near-nude wrapped in straps and chains. 

It only took two drinks to see the black painted walls as a beautiful void in space with wonderful dancing bodies falling into it. You can’t stop smiling through the warmth in your cheeks and dancing to deep bass with husky voiced music. Your arms stay in the air as you dance, and you welcome any dancing partner up until your third drink. 

God, the drinks are strong. Or perhaps it’s just the specific drink you’ve grown partial to. One they call “Red Death”, which according to the handsome bartender, was quite popular in the 90s. You see exactly why it was so popular, considering it basically hit you like a fucking truck in the middle of this club and has you stumbling out the front door without so much as remembering why your feet are moving in the first place. 

Unsure of how much time has passed since you got here, you nearly forget the extra five inches under your feet as you stumble your way through the heavy doors in front of the club. A kind bouncer with the whites of his eyes tattooed helps you with your balance as you step out, chuckling and noting that you’re definitely new here.

His strong hold on you is kind and gentle compared to the bouncers outside of the clubs back home, and despite how drunk you are, you still feel as safe as you do inside of your own apartment when he gives you a small “woah there.”

Thankfully, he keeps to himself after helping you regain balance, once again unlike most bouncers at clubs. You’re left to your own drunken plans now as you wobble around the building in search of a bench to sit on and sober up. Thankfully, that very bench is found sitting lonely on the backside of the building. You can still hear the muffled music from inside, but you’re currently spinning and able to hear just about anything, you think. 

You hear your ass thump to the ground when you try to take a seat, missing the bench completely and falling a full two feet with your head hitting the bricked wall behind you. 

Honestly, all you can do is laugh at yourself as you hold your head. The fall didn’t hurt, and thank fuck no one is around to have witnessed that from you. To think your senses are enhanced at this moment is quite a feat, considering you were so focused on hearing everything that you completely forgot to determine which of the two benches in your drunken vision was the real one.

And as you accept your seat on the ground as the space you’ll sober up in, your senses prove yet again to at least be slightly more amplified than usual. 

A heavy scent of cinnamon wafts through your nose as you breathe in the brisk summer air and immediately you try to adjust your eyes to whatever the scent is coming from. Or, whoever.

Then, a cold hand on your shoulder. You didn’t even see him before smelling or feeling him, but somehow, your vision adjusts immediately as if you’re not drunk at all.

In fact, looking at the man is entirely sobering. 

“Child, temptation has you by the throat.”

“I’m no child.” You scoff at the voice reaching your ears, frustrated as you try to chase the fizzling drunk feeling. A waste of money, you could say, to lose the dizzy feeling so fucking fast. 

The man stands in front of you, clad in black, offering a gentle smile. 

You can imagine you look a mess, sitting on the ground outside of a night club, but that should be expected you’d think. 

“It’s a figure of speech.” The man shrugs with a chuckle. “Now, now. Allow me to help you, my dear, you are in no shape to be left to your own devices.”

You look up at him, noting that the man appears to be a priest. What kind of priest wanders around goth clubs this time of the night? 

Then again, you don’t even know what time it is. What you do know is that you’re nearly entirely sober now for some fucking reason, and you absolutely can be left to your own devices. 

“No, I’m fine. I don’t live too far.” You shake your head at him, but he pulls you up anyway. 

Oh, a rush of woozy nausea. Your ankles buckle immediately upon trying to stand and the man simply keeps his smile aimed at you. 

“My conscience will not allow me to leave you be.” He says, taking your arm and leading you further down the street.

You’re unsure as to why you don’t fight him on it now. There’s a feeling in your body that tells you to go with him, and who are you to fight it? 

Strangely enough, your eyes sparkle as he leads you straight to that very cathedral that floods your thoughts on most weekdays during work. So big, so beautiful, so otherworldly to see so closely. 

You stare up at the towering building even as he helps you through the doors, and then your eyes immediately adjust to the vaulted ceilings and darkened stained glass windows with only the moonlight shining through. 

God, it’s more beautiful inside. 

You’re entirely mesmerized by the building, blinking up at every inch of the walls and ceiling. It’s pristine inside compared to the outside, and the floors shine so beautifully even in the low-light. Your boots stomp with each step against the well-maintained floors, to the point you can feel the vibrations running from your toes to the top of your head. 

You can feel your skin tighten at the viewing experience, every hair on your body raising in euphoria, pupils growing wide and dark. You smile, feeling your face flush as if you’ve got a man between your legs. There is no man though though, no. Just big arches and echoed footsteps.

It’s simply too beautiful to comprehend with a semi-drunken brain for the first time. 

The man saunters through the building with you in tow a bit too quickly than you’d prefer though. You try to soak in the image of the main chapel before he leads you away from it, and thankfully you caught a decent look at the gold and silver adornments surrounding a centered altar. The figure within the altar didn’t quite get more than a glance, but you could have sworn it was no religious figure that you know the name of. 

And then, within three blinks, you’re in a corridor where whispering nuns look on. Their voices sound high-pitched even in a whisper but it slows your heart rate down to that of near sleep. Drowsiness overtakes you as you blink out of sync, barely able to comprehend that you should be at home rather than in this wondrous and magnificent building with a strange priest. 

Still, even as the corridor grows less and less extravagant, where the stomping of your boots on the floor turns to that of breaking up dust and weighing down creaking wood, you find it all the more beautiful behind your heavy-lidded eyes.

The deeper into the cathedral you go, the older it becomes. Where electricity turns to candles, and then candles turn to pure moonlight shining through stained glass windows. 

Even up the spiraling concrete stairs, you feel your feet carry you more than the priest with his back turned to you. He wouldn’t need to lead you through this building at all, as the feeling in your gut would likely have you explore the place inch by inch if you were given the permission. 

Still, even while your mind is sober but your body is drunk, you find it hard to believe that people still reside here. Never once seeing anyone come from the cathedral since being in this city. And trust, you have honestly stared at it day after day during work. 

That means nothing to you now though, considering you’re inside the building, being led to a small room for sleep where your sleepy eyes devour the small bed against the wall.

The man who led you here lends no more words or thoughts to you as he steps inside, presents the room to you, and then quickly leaves with that same smile he gave you outside of the club. 

A nun replaces him with light and silent footsteps, running past you to fluff the flattened pillow on the bed. Another came in behind her with a small bowl of crackers and a glass of water. She holds out the bowl and glass, urging you to take them from her. 

Naturally, you do. Popping a cracker into your mouth and instantly feeling it soak up any saliva in your mouth, leaving it feeling dry and sore before you sip the water. And with a nod from the two nuns, they leave you be. 

This room appears to be that for refuge, surely for those the church takes in when they’re in need of a warm bed and some food. 

You smile, saying nothing as you sit down on the bed and place the glass and bowl on the small ledge by the window. There, you take off your boots and flop back without so much as sinking under the thin covers, and you fall asleep as if there’s nowhere else on this earth you’d rather be. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The sun feels warm against your face when you stir from your slumber. Your eyes feel heavy though, so you simply lay here and breathe in the strange heavy air. Your eyebrows furrow at the feeling of the bed beneath you. Stiff, hard, uncomfortable. Clearly, you’re not at home. 

And, well, that’s when the happenings of last night dawn on you. You can barely comprehend what the helpful priest looked like, better yet how long it took for your feet to carry you to this room.

When you open your eyes and squint to look out of the stained window, most of the city is distorted through the tinted colors, but you can tell that you’re quite high up in the building. Then again, the throbbing in your feet could have probably told you that. 

Still, sitting in this bed now feels much more uncomfortable than it did when you initially laid down. Your head pounds as you pinch the bridge of your nose, squinting around the room and trying to grasp your memory. 

The only thing you remember is the cold hand that guided you here and every beautiful inch of the cathedral. Which can only mean, you have no fucking idea how to get out of here.

Oh, the horror and embarrassment of needing to search for someone to help you leave feels unfamiliar and uncomfortable. Surely, if you’re silent with your feet, you can search the halls until you manage to find a back door, right? At least the route would be scenic and interesting if you can manage it.

And, well, you do try. Searching for a staircase the moment you leave your room simply because you know that the only way home is down at least a hundred steps. Strangely enough, your instincts seem to know exactly where to go. 

Somehow.

Your socked feet carry you straight downstairs and to the main cathedral. You weren’t necessarily expecting to find a room full of people upon entering the space either. After all, if it were Sunday perhaps you’d have to drag your hungover ass past a crowd participating in Sunday mass. 

Despite never seeing a soul enter this cathedral save for yourself and that priest. 

Weird, there are a few people with bowed heads sitting in the pews of the main chapel. All appear to be clad in black and gold, one or two others with silver. Not entirely cloaked but still incredibly eerie from behind as you look on with each silent foot step. 

And suddenly, your body freezes. 

There, at the center of the altar stands a stoic man. Posture so straight you could argue he is nothing but an ancient statue. Behind him, you note that there is an actual statue of a figure standing much the same, far too distant to make out the face of. 

Only for a moment do you recall glancing at the statue from the night before, noting how it resembled no god nor deity that you’re aware of. It doesn’t even resemble a human the longer you stare at it, actually.

Ah. Yes. The vibes in this cathedral are off. From your feet somehow knowing the place as if it’s your own home to the silent chapel bowing their heads to an even more silent man standing frozen in the center. If at all, you feel like you’ve been caught in a photo, stuck with your feet on this single tile with the front doors just out of your reach. 

That is, until one of those whispering nuns makes her way to you, tapping your shoulder with a nod and a very quiet, “Shall I see you out?” 

And she does, opening the large doors for you and closing them behind you without so much as a sound. 

Strange, because you remember the echo of those doors closing from the night before. But whatever, you guess, as you’re assaulted with the bright afternoon sun forcing your eyes to tear up. 

You take a step through the flash-bang of summer air, slowly adjusting your eyesight to the very museum you work at. Bustling with your co-workers who are made to work this weekend, you try to avoid being seen. After all, as a new employee, the last thing you need is to be perceived as a hungover mess while walking out of that weird fucking cathedral with nothing more than socked feet and a pair of stompers held against your chest.

And so, you make the short trek home, thankful for the walkable city but entirely unthankful for the charming weather your realtor promised for this time of the year. It’s fresher than you’d like for it to be outside today, the warm sun keeping you at a perfect temperature while the cold breeze offers a shiver here and there. 

You’re not sure why it pisses you off. It’s probably the headache that only pounds harder and harder with each step you take. 

Finally, you make it to your apartment. You feel cold when you step inside the lobby and make your way up. Somehow you feel even colder when find yourself at the window, gazing at the same cathedral you just spent the night in, looking hazy in the afternoon sun. 

It looms there in the city, with its elder rooted walls and pointed arches. Still so beautiful, still so mysterious, still so fucking luring. 

Even after sleeping there, and even after you felt the vibrations inside skew your comfort, it stands out not only in the city, but in your brain. With the modern city only forcing it to stick out like a sore thumb, you can argue that the city could be just as old and still that cathedral would offer a shiver down your spine. 

Your head pulses at the sunlight shining through your window, forcing your eyes from the darkened haunt, and you’re quick to make your way to the kitchen to rummage for something to help with the headache. 

And by the time you flop down on your couch, you drift back to sleep, realizing that you’re not entirely sure if you slept at all the night before. Despite waking up, despite not remembering a thing from after you laid down, and despite feeling rejuvenated in every aspect aside from sleep. 

That rejuvenation strangely drains you more as you drift to sleep, finding it so unnatural that you willingly slept in a maze filled with no face you can put a name to.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Making your first friend feels good. Weeks worth of pretending and hoping you and your co-workers would somehow become besties outside of the museum walls fell short, after all. Not that you don’t consider them friends, it’s more so just the fact that they’re all a bit too stoic and up-tight for you. 

You’re quite a bit younger as well. You can tell that they lost their spark for creating art years ago, if they ever even created it in the first place, anyway. It’s all just curating, curating, curating for them. An eye for beauty only, which is respected and appreciated but still, no eye for fun outside of these walls though. 

That’s where Jungwon comes in. A young artist with first-installation jitters dimpling his cheeks as he offers the smallest “hello” that you think you’ve ever heard from another person. 

He’s similar to you in the way he dresses. He works hard, amazing you with each piece of his collection that’s pulled from a tightly packed box, filled with bubble wrap and slammed with “FRAGILE” stickers. 

Arguably, you don’t need to be friends with your co-workers when you have artists like him coming in and out every few months. He’s quite lively, very excited, and almost clumsy in the way he carries himself. 

You were endeared with him the moment you met him and honestly just three days in, the two of you are practically attached at the hip as you push and work hard alongside him to set up the installation as perfectly as possible for the following weekend. 

And, well, the first showing went off without a hitch. His smiling face could have been seen for miles, you think, as you watch him mingle and blush at each compliment and critique of his work.

So bright. 

So full of life.

The exact person you’d want to be around. 

“Jungwon–” You elbow him in the side as he nods and shakes hands through each farewell while the museum comes to its close for the night. “It’s Friday.” You smile. 

He nods you off, paying close attention to each face that came to visit his work. And only when the halls are empty does he make his way back to you with a deep exhale and a loud, relieved groan. 

“Finally.” He huffs, blowing a strand of his hair up and into the air. “Just fifty nine more days to go.” 

You roll your eyes fondly at him already counting down until the two of you are scheduled to take down his work. 

“You do know you only need to be here for opening night, right?” You laugh.

“Well, yeah.” He shrugs. “But it’s my first installation, I worry some kid will come wipe his snotty nose all over my hard work.” 

You chuckle, he chuckles, and then you turn to face him. 

“So, it’s Friday.” 

He bounces on his feet. 

“Yeah, glad to see you seem to grasp the idea of fleeting time and whatnot.” He looks at you with a mischievous smile. “What about it?”

“We should go out. The club across the street has really strong drinks for half the price as most places.” 

You watch as Jungwon’s eyes shine when they flick behind you to glance out the window. Then his face falls, his eyebrow raises, and he tilts his head. 

“You do realize we’ve been here for like, eighteen hours straight, right?” 

You nod casually with a shrug.

“I live super close by, if we get tired, you can just crash on my couch.” 

He pretends like he thinks it over for more than two seconds before ultimately accepting the offer of fun. 

“Cool. Wanna meet me there in an hour? I should probably change and stuff first.” 

You eye over his outfit, and then give yourself a quick glance. 

“Good plan.” You smile, backing away and throwing your bag over your shoulder. “An hour. Be there.” 

You both nod in agreement and go your separate ways. Sleepy, but entirely willing to celebrate Jungwon’s huge accomplishment with drinks that have already proven to be too strong. 

The hour passes quickly, wearing that same pair of boots for a second time now that you have the perfect place and reason to stomp around in them. This time, you even go as far as darkening your lips and smearing your mascara just a smidge. After all, you’re definitely gonna get drunk and your makeup will be smeared by the end of the night regardless. 

You gasp upon seeing Jungwon’s chosen attire, offering him an “Ooooh” the second you walk up to him. He had been leaning against the front doors of the museum, as if he’s simply an on looker and not a working artist with a top-notch showcase within those walls. 

He lends you a matching “Ahhhh” upon seeing your chosen outfit. Both of you somehow match in a way that makes this appear more like a date night rather than friends getting drinks. Which is kind of cute and a welcomed idea if the two of you have one to many and accidentally start making out or something. 

It feels platonic enough to laugh off in the morning, anyway. And really, while his boots don’t lend him extra height, he stomps around in them much like you do your own. With his black knit sweater littered in frays and pulled yarn, and his hair intentionally messed up. 

“Wonnie,” You offer the nickname easily as you grab onto his arm and check the street for cars before beginning to cross. “I think some eyeliner could finish off your look.” You laugh as the two of you practically prance with heavy boots to the club. 

He smiles at the nickname, hiding his face only slightly in his sweater when he blinks back at you with sparkly eyes. 

“Really?” He smiles, dimples on full display for the tattooed bodies lined up outside, already checking out the artist. 

“Yeah, oh–” You huff, digging in your small shoulder bag. “I have some, let’s do the finishing touch.” 

And when the two of you stand at the back of the line, you do just that. Carefully holding his cheek in one hand and lining the lower lashes on his left eye. 

He doesn’t even close his eyes, and instead looks up into the night sky with that same dimple showing. Blinking every few seconds at the sensitivity, ignoring the fact that his eyes start to prickle at the feeling. 

“It tickles,” He chuckles in a hushed whisper, never having a friend be so close to his face like this before. “How do you manage to do this every day?”

“I guess you just get used to it after a while.” You focus on the way the darkened color brings his eye to seem more catty than it already was, taking your thumb and swiping the bottom lid to smear the charcoal makeup.

You note how innocent and shining his other eye looks compared. Nevertheless, you go to rest your hand on his other cheek now.

Just for a moment, his eyes flash down to look at you. So, so close to his face. Instantly, you lend him a pause and your own smile. 

“You’re blushing.” You laugh, holding your hand steady in wait as he shifts his weight to the other leg out of natural nervousness. 

“Sorry,” He whispers out, blinking frantically to prepare for his other eye to tickle. “I’m not used to being this close to someone.”

Ah, you don’t believe that for a second.

“Look up.” You instruct, already lining his other lashes. “Feels like I’m putting the finishing touches to a masterpiece.” You add in a lame chuckle, feeling a little flustered yourself the more you note how his eyes water at the tickle. They shine so pretty.

He laughs out at your comment, a hand shooting to your wrist as you smear the liner on him. Not to be intimate or anything, just simply to steady your hand more.

“I guess I am kinda the canvas like this, huh?” He comments, standing as still as he can while looking up at the moon. “Hey–”

“Hm?” You say, pulling your hand back now and doing the same with your thumb to smear the make up into perfection on his flawless little face. 

“What kind of gum is that?” He asks, blinking a few times before adjusting his eyes properly and pretending like he can’t feel the waxy substance caked on his lashes. 

“Just regular spearmint.” You give him a half smile. “Why, you want a piece?” 

He nods, mostly because if he had known you were going to get this close to his face, he probably would have already had some type of candy in his mouth.

Again, it’s not like he has feelings or anything. It’s just, well, it’s always intimate to have someone so close to you. In your space. Your bubble. No one ever gets that close unless they want to kiss. Or, he guesses, if they’re putting eyeliner on you. 

“You look really cute,” You comment now, stepping back after giving him a piece of gum and looking over how the smeared makeup really does complete his look. “Should’ve brought one of my chokers too. Now that, yeah.” 

“Huh?” He tilts his head as the two of you move up the line. “You’re really into this kind of scene aren’t you?”

You nod shyly. 

“Was a total mall goth back when I was a teenager. I would’ve stalked you around the mall if you looked like this back then, really. Totally my type.”

He lends a bashful blink and a half-hearted laugh, stuffing his hands into his pockets and looking to the ground. 

“Well, when I was a teenager I looked like the person who invented calculus.” 

“And now you’re just a little work of art, huh?” You continue the cringey art-jokes, mostly because you like the way he tries to pretend they’re funny rather than utterly horrifying. 

And he does smile at it, ears flowing with heat as he blushes. He probably wouldn’t feel so shy if it weren’t for the fact that he also heard compliments all day about his art. He’s a bit sensitive right now.

“I guess so.” He accepts your compliment like all the others, lifting his shoulder to his cheek with a squinted eye. It’s nice to feel like the world’s favorite person for a night, truly.

And the conversation is even easier from here on out. Albeit, a bit flirty but it stills platonic enough to where the two of you are just…in a comfortable little bubble surrounded by faces you don’t know. Perhaps playing the part of being two individuals who came to a club together rather than separately and alone. 

As the hours pass, there are several strangers approaching the two of you. Words of “need a third?” and “well aren’t you two just fucking perfect?” 

Jungwon basks in it, snickering quietly with you but never denying a single accusation. The two of you play along. Drinking, dancing, and then more drinking. Up until Jungwon decides he’s held his bladder long enough and is off in search of a bathroom while you make your way to the bar. 

For more drinks, of course. Not to hit on the bartender you met the first time you came here.

“Another red death?” The man with inky red hair smiles at you, already grabbing a glass and starting your drink. 

“Yes but, can I actually–” You pause, glancing at the other man behind the bar. 

Red haired man laughs knowingly with a nod and a side eye before pointing silently at his co-worker and raising a brow at you.

You nod back, dipping your face only slightly when you see him take two steps back and whisper to the man. 

Instantly, you feel a bit more shy over asking to be served by this guy but goddamn. His dark hair looks slightly damp when his eyes glance to you upon whatever is being whispered in his ear, probably from something spewing in his face after being shaken up, or perhaps from sweat. 

You try to avoid eye contact under the man’s gaze when he walks over and in front of you. Sharp jaw, silver chain, loose black t-shirt revealing equally as damp collar bones.

God. The shirt is sticking to him. 

“Babe, my eyes are up here.” He laughs, holding an empty cup and leaning on the bar towards you. “Had a little too much to drink again?” 

You nod, dazed by his dark eyes before immediately shaking your head. 

“Red death, please. Two of them.” 

The man nods with a knowing smile. 

“I saw that you came here with someone.” 

He’s flirting. Mostly for tips but it’s not like he hasn’t been known to take people home from work before so, wherever it goes is where it goes for him. 

“Jay, can you grab me the-” The red haired bartender says from behind, and Jay, presumably, hands him a bottle without so much as letting him finish the sentence. 

“He’s cute.” Jay continues talking to you, enjoying the way you don’t realize how you fold in on yourself. “Any reason as to why you asked me to make your drink?”

“Um, oh,” You were gonna be bold, but you feel Jungwon suddenly clinging to you from behind, eyeing the bartender just like you are. “I just think you make them better.” 

“Did he just say I’m cute?” Jungwon whispers behind your ear, watching the man’s hands as he makes the drinks with expert knowledge. 

“You’re both cute.” The bartender smirks, looking between both of you and then offering a wink. “This round is on me.” He adds, sliding both cups forward and brushing your hand just for a moment before turning his attention to someone else. 

Honestly, it’s like you and Jungwon are the same person at this moment when you grab your drinks and you turn to face each other. 

Both of you, bouncing on your feet with whispered squeals over the hot bartender including both of you in the compliment. 

“Oh my god.” You stare forward, tasting the drink and noting that there somehow seems to be more alcohol in this one. “He’s so–”

Jungwon nods to you excitedly, sipping his drink quickly before glancing behind you and meeting the eye of the bartender again. 

“He was just looking at your ass.” He comments, flipping his body to cling to your arm and now turning his back to Jay “You think he’s gonna check mine out too?”

You nod with a snicker, the song changing and the tempo instantly drowning your thoughts. 

“I love this song!” You shout with drunken glee, already making your way from the bar but keeping that little thought that hopefully, Jay will keep glancing at the two of you simply because it’s fun to be watched by a hottie. 

And Jungwon just goes with your flow. Dancing with sticky sweet lips, eyes glazed over from the music and mood. His makeup looks more beautiful now paired with strands of his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. 

You don’t think you’ve ever seen dimples so fucking deep before, and it’s almost painful to remember his face without that smile plastered on it. 

“Wonnie,” You grab him by the shoulder and pull him against you, ignoring how his hair dips into your drink for a moment. “I think you’re my best friend.”

And the way he pulls back with a gasp, smiling wider? It shatters your heart just so it can grow larger. 

“I am?” He does a little bounce through his dance move, eyes shining in the strobe lights, flashes of red and purple shading his cheeks, only deepening those dimples. “Really?”

Never have you enjoyed spending time with someone like this. Never without crushing hard, never without wanting to take them home and fuck them until you can’t walk. Jungwon is different though. He really does feel like a long lost best friend, like the part of you that has been missing for far too long. 

The moment you met him, you clicked in a way that didn’t involve a dick or a hole. I mean, sure you’d probably fuck him for funsies but there’s really no point in it because you feel perfectly happy, perfectly fulfilled, just having him spend his free time with you. 

Surely when he has to travel back home, you’re going to cry. 

“Why do you have to live so far away?” You pause your dancing, making yourself sad at the thought that he will only be here for a few weeks. “Who am I gonna hang out with when you leave?”

Jungwon lends you a pouty sound, a coo, almost. 

“I only live an hour away.” He laughs, leaning forward and plastering his sweaty forehead to yours with a slurred shout so you can hear him clearly. “I’ll come see you all the time!” 

And with that, the mood seeps right back into your veins as the smile overtakes you. 

You dance with him, forehead to forehead for a long, long, while. Up until the club is so crowded with people that Jay couldn’t possibly be paying attention to anything other than making drinks, and you couldn’t possibly pay attention to anything other than the music vibrating the alcohol in your stomach. 

It’s almost suffocating, as you feel a pang in your chest of overheated anxiety. You breathe in, smelling the fifth piece of gum that Jungwon slipped from your pocket on his breath. You exhale, smelling your own sweet alcohol breath before pulling back and dragging Jungwon by the hand into the only corner not packed with people. 

“You okay?” Jungwon slurs as he sways in front of you, eyes trying their best to seem concerned. “You look like you might get sick.” 

You nod, feeling your mouth fill with warm saliva indicating that you should probably go to the bathroom now. 

“Okay, lets get you to-” 

You cut Jungwon off with an off balance sprint to the bathroom and somehow he keeps pace with you, gripping your shirt and refusing to lose you in the crowd. 

Unfortunately, as you press on your stomach to somehow hold down whatever is trying to come up, you notice how there’s a very long line for the bathroom. 

And it’s still suffocating in here. 

And your mouth tastes too sweet. And the music is too loud.

“Let’s go outside!” Jungwon shouts against your ear, vibrating your brain as he navigates you through the crowd himself, pressing you up against the front doors of the club before pushing you outside with him close behind.

The waft of breezy summer air instantly fills your lungs and your stomach settles at the space you have to yourself now. 

You stumble forward, making your way around the same concerned bouncer from before who only smiles at you and Jungwon struggling to find your footing. 

And, like the best friend you knew he became, he tries his best to be the sober friend right now. His voice wavers and crackers when he speaks, but his hands are firm on both of your shoulders as he presses you against the wall behind you. 

“Stay here.” Jungwon says with concern still in his voice. “I’m gonna run back in and get us some water, okay?” 

And you nod in a daze as your eyes follow him when he disappears back inside. You note how he says something to the bouncer before opening the doors, and surely he simply asked that the guy keep an eye on you. 

“You should probably eat something soon, sweetheart.” The kind bouncer comments to you in the night air, stepping closer to you and standing just against the wall next to you.

You feel protected by him, so there are no alarm bells ringing. 

“You know I can’t let you back in, right?” He chuckles as he speaks to you calmly. 

“Oh, I bet.” You laugh, breathing in the air again and again, still not regretting the fun you’ve had for the past few hours. “Just gonna sit here and wait for Wonnie, he’ll help me get home.”

“Good, good.” The bouncer confirms your words, still standing protective next to you when you hear the doors fly open and a few seconds of booming music before it’s muffled again. 

Jungwon flops down in front of you on the sidewalk now, two water bottles in hand with a smile on his face. 

“Jay gave me these.” He smiles. “He said if we can handle waiting til closing time he can drive us home.”

You laugh sheepishly. Unfortunately, you’re a bit too drunk and you know you probably wont make it another hour and a half with an additional however much time it’ll take for him to close up the club before needing to pass the fuck out. 

“I think I’ll have to take him up on that next time.” You slur your words. “You’ll help me walk home right, Wonnie? It’s a short walk.” 

Jungwon nods, still doing his best to act as sober as he can, but the bouncer shuts him down fast.

“Oh, I don’t think so buddy.” The bouncer laughs. “You’re both fucked out of your mind.” 

You laugh, Jungwon laughs, and the bouncer throws in his own hearty sigh. 

“Fuck–” You have a sudden, sober thought. “The tab. Jungwon, did we pay the tab?”

He pauses, eyes widening. 

“Shit.” He explains before jumping up on unsteady feet. “Can you help her call for a ride?” He slurs out at the bouncer, only disappearing inside again when the kind goth nods at the request.

And as you sit here in the silence after the bouncer helps you order a ride, a few minutes pass. Your eyes are out of focus as you stare up into the night sky before closing them. 

You could fall asleep right here on the sidewalk if you’re not careful. 

Another few minutes pass, now a loud slam of the doors rings in your tired ears now and you jolt out of the drowsy state, opening your eyes thinking you’ll find Jungwon rushing to you but instead, you note how suddenly you’re entirely alone. 

You don’t know how long you’ve sat here, or where the bouncer went, better yet why Jungwon isn’t back yet but what you do know is that suddenly, you’re mind is sober and fucking assaulted by the smell of cinnamon.

You glance around, trying to focus on the scent and where it’s coming from when– oh.

There, walking down the sidewalk is that fucking priest from before. Tall, clad yet again in black clothes, and he simply pauses his step in front of you. 

“Again?” The man calls out to you with an amused voice, lending you his hand, but you don’t take it. 

Instead, the doors suddenly fly open and Jungwon stumbles out again, nearly tripping over his own feet with an apology of “sorry, jay was trying to convince us to–”

“Uh, hi?” Jungwon interrupts himself as he takes note of the man standing in front of you. “The fuck are you?” He checks the man out, not quite able to focus on him in full.

The priest nods his head at both of you, staring Jungwon up and down before landing his eyes back on you. 

“Get her home safe.” He says nothing else before continuing his nightly stroll. 

And, well, you do get home safe. 

You and Jungwon are a mess of limbs in the short ride to your apartment, and an even messier pile of idiots by the time you make it inside. The couch is long forgotten by the time you close your front door, feeling Jungwon follow you all the way to your plush bed with drunken groans and giggles.

There, you flop onto the bed fully clothed without so much as a happy “goodnight” and you’re both drifting off to sleep. Jungwon’s heavy limbs are thrown on you as he loosely spoons you. Like he’s still trying to take care of you despite the fact that you no longer feel sick, and you’re both perfectly safe behind your apartment walls. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Have you no shame? 

Fuck no. 

What about Jungwon? Nah.

Both of you have a pep in your step by the next Friday, waiting for the museum to close so Jungwon can walk home with you and get all dressed up and ready for another fall into the infamous “after life”.

“We should try to stay until closing, maybe Jay will bring us home this time.” Jungwon wiggles his eyebrows as you put his eyeliner on for him again. 

“We’re gonna have to look real good then, yeah?” You smile at his pretty smeared eyes, reaching your hand up and ruffling his hair.

And you do. Both of you dress up in the darkest, blackest, sexiest fit you can find in your closet. Jungwon is sporting one of your pretty, sheer lace undershirts beneath his own unbuttoned black cardigan, pants tight and low on his waist. 

You, with another semi-transparent shirt. Sheer, showing all the goods if you hadn’t put on a nice fitting bralette under it. Cute skirt that shows your thighs, the stompers, of course. 

And the finishing touch this time? Matching chokers. 

“Cute.” You comment, leaning forward and popping a minty kiss to the tip of Jungwon’s nose. 

“You too.” He smiles, pinching your waist before turning to face your vanity mirror and checking himself out. 

Cute is right. Jay’s probably gonna fall to the floor when he gets a look at the two of you. 

And, well. The night is a blur. 

Jay does, in fact, eye the two of you with that sharp smirk like he did last weekend but you, unfortunately, drink far too much yet again. 

Jungwon slowed down a bit towards midnight but he kept an eye on you for the most part. Trying to secure the ride for both of you by orbiting around the bar and making flirty talk with both bartenders when time allowed it. 

You stayed on the dance floor through it. Sometimes dancing with Jungwon when he comes up behind you with clingy hands and updates on the Jay situation, but after a few songs he’d wander off again. 

It’s nice, kind of. Having someone with you that can maintain control through your own drunken stupidity. You don’t mind dancing alone, after all, you’re not entirely alone giving the pretty men and girls who come by to dance with you every other song when Jungwon isn’t around.

And of course, around the same time as last time, you find your mind feeling suffocated by the time the club is at capacity. 

You sway on the dance floor in search of Jungwon, unsure of which way the bar is because your eyes simply can’t adjust to the darkness and flashing lights by this point. 

Dimples. You need to find the sunshine face in this void of darkness. 

And you search. 

And search. 

Until you’re stumbling out the front doors alone, knowing that if Jungwon is looking for you, he’ll probably know you stepped out to breathe at some point. 

Just like the week before, the crip summer air outside instantly settles your stomach and breathing comes easier. You feel more sober than you thought you were as you sit here, making small talk with the bouncer who finally introduces himself to you. 

“That’s a good name for a big goth teddy bear.” You mock the man. “Balor.”

“In the flesh.” The man waves you off. 

And then, suddenly, the bouncer is stepping closer to you with a stiffened shoulder, the air outside shifting to something else for him, but you’re completely unaware of it. 

“I need to step inside for a moment, will you be alright for a few minutes?” He knows he shouldn’t step inside, but in all fairness, it’s kind of the protocol at this point. 

Considering that man has made himself very clear that if he’s near the club at all, it’s for good reason and he’s not to be interrupted. At least, that’s what code is for the bouncers here at this club. 

It’s a shame though, to know he has to leave you to the night. You’re a fun girl, peppy and sweet, not rude or hard to make small talk with on the long nights of work. Maybe you drink a little too much, but still. It’s not like the bouncer knows why he is to leave the sidewalk when a certain someone wanders by. What he does know is that more often than not, he’ll sink away inside only to resume his position alone, with no one left on the sidewalk.

Probably just a pimp. 

Or human trafficking. 

He isn’t sure, but time and time again he has been told to leave it be. That it’s nothing wretched. That it’s simply a territory that isn’t their own. 

Still, you nod to the bouncer. 

“If you see Wonnie, can you scold him for letting me get lost?” 

You miss the look of concern on the bouncer’s face. 

“Hey, come back inside, I’ll help you find him.”

“Oh, hello again.” A voice echoes from around the corner, causing the bouncer’s shoulders to fall as he immediately offers you a small “I'll find him–” before disappearing behind the heavy doors with haste. 

And then, cinnamon. The spicy scent wafting through you so fast that you’re almost dizzy. 

More dizzy than you already were, anyway.

“Have you learned nothing?” The priest walks up to you, chuckling and raising his eyebrows. 

“Weird ass priest.” You say, paying no mind to the happenings of just now, totally unaware of the energy surrounding you.

“And to what god do you believe I pray?” He tilts his head as he stands in front of you, hands behind his back, leaning down at the waist to position his face in front of yours. 

The question makes you look up at him with a skewed brow. 

“The usual one?” You ask, rolling your eyes at the silly meeting. 

Again.

A third meeting. 

“Ah, the usual one.” He mocks, nodding his head before standing back up and towering over you. “Do you seek him out?” 

You nod momentarily, having never been religious but at this moment, as drunk as you are and as alone as you feel with this strange man, only god could answer your curious question as to why you keep meeting him. 

As to why you’re always all on your own when he appears. 

As to why he forces a hope in your mind that god is really out there, and he’ll protect you when the bouncer isn’t here.

“Was that a nod?” He smiles at you, landing a cold hand on your shoulder. 

“Yes,” You whisper out, feeling heavy and more and more dizzy by the moment. Not from the alcohol but from something else. “Do you know where I can find him?” 

Your voice calls out on its own to him. You don’t recall wanting to ask him that, nor do you recall even thinking those words before saying them.

“He’s right here, love–” The priest pulls back, presenting the space in front of him before turning his hands inward and presenting himself to you. “I am God.”

You freeze, a rush of cold running through your veins. Surely you’re hearing him wrong despite that voice echoing those words in your head three, four, five, six times. 

“Isn’t that considered blasphemy?” You try to play it off in a joke, hiding the chill down your spine. 

Pretending you’re not interested. 

Wondering why it is that you are, actually. 

“Perhaps on any other street.” He confirms for you, now crouching down and showing his face plainly to you. “Do you keep secrets?” 

Your body nods before you can think to do it yourself, and you narrow your eyes for a moment at him. He’s…insane looking. Unnaturally flawless. Like those little speckles of moles on his face were placed with perfected intention. 

You’re mesmerized as he looks at you, eyes glancing to each part of your face, watching your expression change and fall, then rise and– he chuckles fondly, deeply. 

“I believe you.”

Why do you feel proud of that?

“Come back with me, yes?” 

There’s a long pause as you fight to think for yourself. If Jungwon were here with you right now, surely you’d be more grounded than you feel right now. Surely, you’d be having a heated conversation involving some sort of shared fantasy over that bartender. 

What was his name again? 

J…J-

Your eyes adjust to the face in front of you as you lose your train of thought. Something inside of you pulls. You can’t tell if it’s your heart or your thoughts but it appears to be instinctual when you replay his invitation in your head. On any other night, with any other man, you’d say no. 

Under these circumstances alone, you should be running away. 

This man. Dressed as a holy priest, walking to and fro from what you assume to be his home within that unnatural cathedral, presenting himself as god.

You should stand up and disappear into a crowd of rowdy dancers. 

You should find Jungwon and cling to him. 

You should push him away, and you should be recoiling by his cold hand that brushes your cheek. His voice shouldn’t feel so good in your ears. Like a siren, something inside of you doesn’t want you to run. 

“Temptation has you by the throat, my dear.” He smiles as his hand brushes your warm cheek again and again. “You seem rather fond of the feeling.” 

And now he flashes his teeth to you. Glistening brighter than the moon, he appears all but natural to you at this moment when you spiral internally at how fucking beautiful he is. Surely this guy is just a turbo goth that truly lives the life. Probably gives his heart to satan and only fucks during a full moon. 

And oh, wouldn’t you know.

You glance up at the sky again, the moon full and nearly pulsing in the sky like it’s a living being itself. Then your eyes fall back to the priest, his smile still present. 

A weirdo. A freak.

But…aren’t you too?

You barely feel yourself stand up and take a step forward under his arm. You follow the scent of him if nothing else. Heavy in your nose, like a hidden treasure cloaked by the darkened fabric draping over his body.

You want to smell it deeper. Maybe if he were to take off those clothes you could–

“By the throat.” He mumbles quietly as he leads you away from the club. 

Away from familiarity. Away from Jungwon. Away from the public.

There, straight back to that damned cathedral.

You’re more unnerved this time though, because the moment you step through the doors, you cannot, for the life of you, recall what you were supposed to be doing. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Waking up with a weight on your side, you smile at the feeling of what you assume to be Jungwon next to you. As you lay here, not quite comprehending what happened in the blur of the night before, you start to take note of something. Color. 

The light behind your closed eyelids don’t match the yellow-white light of the sun shining through your bedroom window. No, you’re seeing colors. 

Blue, red, green– 

“Wonnie?” You call out, squinting your eyes open, not quite processing the room before you feel a pit in your stomach. “Wonnie?”

Holy shit. 

You thought it was a dream.

You thought coming back to this cathedral was nothing more than a drunken dream. That the weight on your side was more than just a misplaced pillow. 

And as you lay here in a room that isn’t yours, and most certainly a different room compared to the one you slept in previously here, you try to think. 

Was it not a dream? 

The way the priest held you close and inhaled you? The way he put you to bed and left you here in the darkness? The way you– oh. 

This feeling in your chest, pulling, pushing, weighing so heavy. Something inside of you wants to see him despite your uncomfortable awakening. No, you need to see him. This feeling, you know now, only becomes more aggressive when he’s near too. Which can only mean he isn’t far outside of this room. 

You think hard about him and what you can remember outside of the blur in your head. He’s attractive. His face is otherworldly, with eyes so dark you hate that you can very nearly see yourself floating in them. 

The image of his face sits clearly in your hungover brain as you try to think. The feeling of his cold skin against your face, his lips, his…

Red.

Panic washes over you when you jump out of bed, ignoring the head rush and the way you immediately topple over and onto the floor. You need to go home, you need to find Jungwon and make sure he made it somewhere safe last night. You need to find your phone, and your…purse? 

Your shoes?

Where the fuck are your things?

You plant your hands against the cold wooden floors, staring straight down as you try to think. Still, nothing comes but blurry images of the club and then solid images of Sunghoon flashing like still photographs behind your eyes.

Are you losing your goddamn mind? 

Finally, you take a deep breath and stand on your feet, rushing for the door and expecting it to open easily, just like this time. But no. It’s locked. You’re fucking locked in. Which is– fuck, you can’t think straight. And while you still recognize that you’re not expected at work today, surely Jungown is worried, right?

He’s probably looking for you. Hell, with the way his nerves get to him, you wouldn’t be surprised to know he’s plastered posters all over the city looking for you. 

He’s definitely looking for you. 

Fortunately though, only a few minutes of pure panic pass when you hear the door unlock and a pale-eyed nun opens the door for you. She instantly sees the fear in your eyes when you take a timid step back. 

“Oh, you poor dear–” She coos out, lifting her brows in pity. “Do you not remember?” 

You hear her sympathy, feeling your body shiver with relief at her safe and calm voice. Looking up at her, she can already see the question in your eyes. The need for an explanation. 

“You did request that I lock the door for you. You were just simply petrified when–”

You gasp at her choice of words, not remembering a single bit of fear from the night before. 

“Petrified?” You whisper carefully, wrapping your arms around yourself and nervously looking around the room. 

The shrouded woman purses her lips, glancing away from you. 

“I do believe Master Sunghoon startled you. He meant no harm, my dear.” She tries to calm your nerves, but the information only stiffens your shoulders more. 

“Master?” You question with hesitation. “Do you mean Father? Reverend?” 

“Oh.” She purses her lips tighter now, a small smile breaking out at the corners of her lips. “It’s worse than I thought. Please, come with me.” 

You shake your head, backing yourself up against the wall. 

“It’ll only be a minute,” She waves her hand for you to come. “You’re not in danger, I assure you.” 

And as you stand here, knowing that you likely have no choice but to follow her, you hope that her words indicating no danger are truthful. You kind of need them to be, after all. 

“Come now, dear.” 

Reluctantly, you follow her. 

All the way up a too-dark spiral staircase, down two long and dark hallways with vaulted ceilings, and upon rounding a corner, you smell it and you fucking feel a tug in your chest. One that drives you to walk a bit faster, nearly in front of the nun as your feet carry you to where you feel you’re supposed to be. 

She chuckles when you reach the large double doors before she does, dipping her head at you before seemingly gliding back down the hallway in silence. 

Before you can even knock on the doors, they open with a rush of air hitting you square in your face. It nearly knocks the breath out of you at first, but you inhale deeply the same scent of cinnamon before your breath is actually caught in your throat. 

There stands the priest. Or god…or whatever he is. 

“Terrified.” He clicks a knowing tongue at you, stepping to the side to invite you into the extravagant room. “Just when I thought you I had you, too.” 

You stand in silence in front of him after stepping inside, that tug in your chest trying to pull you directly against the man. Still, you refrain with furrowed brows as you remain silent.

“And yet, here you stand.” He softens his frustrated voice, leaning comfortably against a wooden desk behind him. “The human brain truly is fascinating.” 

“Human brain.” You repeat his words to him in an attempt to process them.

“Yes, of course. Yours in particular.” The priest, in his night clothes of a loosened white shirt and long pants makes his way to a bookcase. You watch his slender fingers pull a ratty old book out before he flip through the pages. “I’ve heard about people like you.” 

You pause as you watch him push a pair of gold-trimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose, a memory flooding to the forefront of your mind as you recall last night to your best ability. 

Again, red. 

“I used to be like you.” He just talks, offering no context but keeping his sharp gaze on you despite having the book open in his hands. 

You find yourself nodding as you listen, feeling your hand raise to your heart as you try to ignore the way the priest, Sunghoon, takes a deep inhale. 

There’s nothing that follows his inhale. He doesn’t release that breath as he stares at you and instead just…smirks.

“Last night, you believed me to be god.” He smiles wider now. “You stood in that very spot and undressed  yourself.” He takes a step closer to you now, tilting his head with his words. “Do you know what you did next?” 

A shaky breath leaves your lips and a shiver runs through you again and again as you shake your head at him. Forgetting just for a moment how to speak. 

“You got on your knees and you prayed.”

You drink the thick air in the room like a glass of wine, swallowing harshly, struggling to maintain any type of steady heart beat. You feel allured, aroused, mesmerized, embarrassed. 

“What–” Inhale. “Did I pray for?” 

Exhale. 

“Me.” 

Inhale.

Within a split second all the memories come crashing through your skull. Rattling images of that very instance where you were on your knees, right here, fucking praying. Your hand instinctively shoots up to your neck, and there, you feel the drainage points. Two small pricks, just like in all of those movies you watched growing up. Sore, swollen, hot to the touch. 

Well, goddamn. 

There goes your balance. Your eyes start to blur and you feel yourself fall. Only, you don’t. You can’t when you hear him drop the book to the floor and feel his cold body shoot up and against you to hold you up. 

He says nothing at first as he looks down at you, and you couldn’t say anything if you wanted to. You look up at him in a daze, trying to focus, trying to think, but all you can process is the way he inhales again, deeply.

“You ran.” He whispers to you, studying your face and the way your body went from limp to almost holding up on its own in a shorter time than he expected. So strong, you are. Such a fighter.

He inhales again, seemingly drowning in the smell of you before rolling his eyes up and closing them just for a moment. Then, he groans before looking back down at you with eyes almost as dazed as yours.

“You didn’t run away, though.” He adds.

Even as he releases his hold on you, he smiles and inches his face closer and closer to yours. Almost as if he’s making an attempt to stare straight through you. 

“I wouldn’t have stopped you, love.” 

Your body feels weak as you soak in the truth of last night, your lips instinctively wanting to kiss him. No longer do you feel the need to run away, or to find Jungwon. You’re no longer afraid, even. 

Words can’t explain how you feel right now.

“Why didn’t you leave?” 

You have no answers for him when you hum out as a response. In fact, you’re not sure if you’ve ever had the ability to answer questions in the first place. 

All you feel is euphoria as he continues to talk to you, sweetly smiling and lowering his voice to something that drips like thick syrup down the walls of your brain. 

“I can trust you’ll be back then?” He hovers his lips over yours, watching you pucker them for him before backing away with another deep inhale of your scent. “Or would you rather I come pick you up from the vomit-covered sidewalk again?”

You find yourself laughing at that, smiling as you blink at him. 

God, he’s so charming. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Sunghoon had shoo’d you away shortly after, and you managed to make it home in a daze of sunlight and uncanny admiration.

You’re not sure if you can ever feel normal again after that. In fact, you’re quite dissociated and disconnected to the world until you find Jungwon slumped at the entrance of your apartment, sound asleep. 

Like a guiding light, his presence grounds you so fast that you feel more dizzy than you did in Sunghoon’s arms. Like your spirit is slammed back into your body and reality is hitting you again. You crouch down in a rush with light taps to Jungwon’s face, those bright eyes widening the moment he realizes that you’re here. 

“Where were you?”  He whispered drowsily, his dry throat forcing his voice to crack as he shifts his body comfortably against your door. 

Immediately, your face is apologetic and your voice is soothing in repeated apologies. 

“I’m sorry, Wonnie–” You hiccup, nearly wanting to cry. “I ended up going home with someone, I didn’t mean to leave you there alone.” You continue, pushing your hands under his arms and hoisting him up to stand. “I’m sorry.” You continue, and continue. “I should have left my keys with you, or–”

“Hey,” He whispers sweetly, finally standing on his own and stretching his arms out with an even drier sound. “It’s okay, you’re the one who missed out.” 

You tilt your head in question as you reach for your shoulder bag, the one Sunghoon had tucked within his desk drawer, and pull out your keys. 

“Oh?” You smile at his lack of care, but part of you kind of shatters at it. 

What if you really needed help? How long would it have taken Jungwon to see the red flags? Then again, how long is it going to take for you to see the red flags?

“Oh yeah.” He nods to you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as you push open your door and push him inside. “Jay brought me here, he stayed for a little while, even offered to bring me back to his place.”

You’re a little jealous. You did miss out, it seems. Still, you feel…fond of what you went through last night. Despite the feeling of rot within you when you think about it. Knowing it’s weird. Strange. Unnatural.

A vampire? Really? Surely not. 

“Why didn’t you go home with him?” You ask, making your way to your room right behind Jungwon, paying no mind to him as you undress and throw on a t-shirt. “Why’d you sleep at my door?” 

Jungwon shrugs, now taking his own outfit off while rummaging through your closet for a shirt you probably got from an ex boyfriend. 

“Well,” He looks at you now, really looks at you. “I’m fine if you wanna go home with people but I was a little worried, wanted to make sure you’d actually make it home.”

You pause as you dress yourself for a second sleep, feeling something in your chest flutter out of you at his worry. So he did see the color red. 

Not as brightly as you did, but he still saw it. 

“I really am sorry.” You furrow your brows as you watch him put that over-sized shirt on and lay on your bed. “I promise, I won’t do that again.” 

“You’d better not.” He chuckles, blinking at you and waiting for you to come lay with him. 

“Let me go get us some water first, I think we have a lot to sleep off.” 

He nods happily to you, only one dimple peeking out at you when you turn to head for the kitchen.

And after that, it’s nice. Not much sleep happened though, mostly just a lot of water chugging and pillow talk before Jungwon shifts with a gasp.

“What the fuck is that?” He bolts up, hovering over you and practically pinning you to the bed as he forces your face to the side. 

You know exactly what he’s looking at and explaining it isn’t the hardest thing in the world. After all, you were very drunk last night. So drunk that you’re sure you woke up today still drunk. 

A vampire? Hah. There’s no way. You were right to think Sunghoon is just like, really goth. Embarrassingly so. Probably thinks he’s a vampire lord or something. 

That pull in your chest? The inhales with no exhales? 

It’s all an act and, well, you’re kinda into it if you’re being honest, being hunted and all. The dude is hot as hell, and you don’t mind exploring a little bit of his world. 

“Well…” You trail off, lending your looming friend with the smeared eyes an embarrassed smile. 

“Those look deep.” His voice drips in concern as he keeps your face turned. “Did it hurt?”

You feel his fingers touching the two puncture wounds. Gentle, warm fingers. They pulse at the touch and sting when he pulls them away to let you turn your face back to him.

“To be honest, I don’t remember feeling it.” You think he’d probably panic if you told the truth right now. About how you were clearly too drunk when it happened. About how you prayed to a man only for him to pierce your neck and drink you up like you did to the drinks just hours prior. You aren’t even sure if you had sex with the guy.

To you though, sober or not, you probably would have still left with Sunghoon last night. With that flawless skin and those dark eyes. Sober or not, if he’s into biting and blood, you’re into it too. More than willing to play his victim. 

The fact that you were probably far too drunk at the time doesn’t bother you much because even now, with a grasp on reality, you’d like to think you’d let him do it again. If anything, just to feed your own curiosity.

“Wow, you really are into some freaky stuff–” Jungwon comments playfully, rolling back off of you and then taking a breath. “Make sure you clean them. Who knows where the mouth that did it has been.”

All smiles when you’re with Jungwon, honestly. So much comfort and concern, so much laughing and safety. If it weren’t for him, you honestly wouldn’t know how you’d be feeling right now. And it’s nice knowing that he opts to sleep over with you again. Seemingly preferring your apartment over the home he dropped a hefty wad of cash on for a two month stay. 

The feeling of having a best friend swells inside of you with each passing day, and his presence here allows you to go to work and sleep through the night without much more thought to Sunghoon. You love this city and you love the little artist that found himself at your doorstep even more. 

Hopefully he meant it when he said he’d come visit you all the time once his time here is over. Unlike you, who changed your mind the moment you saw Jungwon asleep at your door. 

“I can trust you’ll be back then? Or would you rather I come pick you up from the vomit-covered sidewalk again?” Sunghoon had said to you. You remember it despite the state of your mind at the time, and you also remember nodding to him. 

He seemed satisfied with your confirmation, yet since then you’ve felt no push or pull. No need to have him sucking on your neck or making you feel like he’s a demon wearing the skin of an angel. 

Perhaps you’ll just need to be sure you don’t find yourself drunk and alone on the sidewalk again.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

By mid-week, Jungwon looks sad to know he needs to go back to his respective space for a little while. Not because he wants to, and not even because you want him to. 

It’s simply because you need to be alone. You’ve always needed to be in your own space when this happens anyway. 

Month after month after month. For years and years. 

It never gets comfortable and you’ll never understand why you’re fated to hurt so badly every twenty two days. 

Going to work is already difficult enough, bloated in your quirky outfits and smiling through the twisting knots in your gut. Having Jungwon in your space when you very nearly want to strangle every person who asks you how your day has been would only lead to more owed apologies. 

“It’s not forever, Wonnie.” You genuinely smile through the pain at his narrowed eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic.” 

“Oh, I’m being dramatic?” He throws his arms up and motions at you. “You just told me you need a few days to bleed out on your kitchen floor.” 

“Well, yeah...” You laugh and he frowns. 

“I have a sister, you know.” He rolls his eyes. “Who’s gonna buy you snacks and bring you microwaved water bottles?”

“Jungwon.” You land your hands on his shoulders and force him to look at you. “I really just don’t like when people are around me when I'm on my period.” 

He blows a strand of his hair up before pursing his lips, accepting the fact that maybe he’s a bit too clingy. Then again, you’re the only person in this city he knows and arguably the only person in this world he’s managed to grow so close with.

Given the fact that the two of you only met like, what? Two weeks ago? He should probably tone it down and not make an attempt to change your lifestyle just so he can sleep next to someone. 

“Fine.” He huffs, frowning harder. “But if you need snacks or–”

“I’ll call you.” You shake his shoulders before forcing him into a bear hug. “Thanks though.” 

And with that, you go your separate ways at the end of the work day and try to ignore how the pain medicine did close to nothing all day to help with the twisting in your abdomen. 

Still, you’re relieved to know you can tough out the next few days in silence due to Jungwon backing you up on your false-sickness nonsense nearing the end of your shift. 

“I feel like I’m coming down with a fever.” You whined to your boss, happy that the first day cold-sweats from your period makes it appear as just that. A fever. 

“She’s been a bit out of it all day. If you need me to help out on the down-low while she’s recovering, I don’t mind.” Jungwon had added, smiling at your boss and not at all bothered by the unpaid work he’ll probably have to do for your sake. 

A great friend he is. You’re lucky to have met him. 

An amazing friend, really. For helping you find space for yourself in crowded clubs and within your own bed. For lending a hand at work and showing up every day for your shifts despite simply being an artist that’s presenting his work there. No where is he needed within that museum outside of, well, you. 

And he’s always there. So for him to not be here now, when you’re making your way to your apartment door? It feels...wrong. Mostly because, as alone as you are when you walk inside and as silent as it is, you don’t entirely feel as alone like you once did here. 

Still, you go about your nightly routine and fall into bed with those same cramps in your gut. It’s not long before you’re drifting off, pleased to know that at least when you’re sleeping, there’s no pain in your body. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

A strong scent wakes you, forcing your eyes open in the darkness of your room. 

Familiar. Warm. Spicy.

Cinnamon.

A tug, just a little pull inside of you brings you to your feet as you wander through your apartment. Straight to the front door. Straight out of the front door. 

“You know where I live?” You whisper drowsily, rubbing your eyes and walking straight into his grasp, ignoring the feeling of sticky blood leaking out of you just from getting out of bed alone.

“No.” Sunghoon speaks against your hair, rubbing your arms as he holds you against him. 

“Oh.” You accept his answer with a nonchalant feeling inside of you. Who even cares how he ended up here? 

“Come back with me?” He whispers, already taking a step back and smiling wickedly when you instantly follow, forcing your nose further against his chest and up to his neck. “I hear it dripping, love, come.”

And you do. All the way downstairs and into a car with heavily tinted windows. 

You feel comfortable, safe. 

The cramps in your belly are nowhere near as you slowly but surely come to your senses. Half-awake but feeling buzzed next to him. Still, you smile while keeping your nose planted up and against his neck even as he drives. 

You like the sound of his little laughs each time he tries to push you back to your seat, and you like even more the way he mutters to himself through it when he relents and lets you do as you please. The short drive in the dead of night doesn’t offer much in terms of danger anyway. 

And slowly still, your mind clears. Breaking out of the buzzed fog when he brings you through the cathedral

 silently. Past the pale-eyed nuns with pursed smiling lips, past the windows and hallways. 

No longer are you buzzed by the time you make it through those heavy doors of the extravagant room. The same one you prayed in. The same one you nearly fainted in. The same one you tried to forget. 

“How do you feel?” He asks just moments after the doors close. 

You can sense the slightest bit of hesitation in his voice when he asks you that, only now realizing that you’re in your pajamas and fucking staining them.

“What do you mean?” You ask, squeezing your legs together in an uncomfortable show of what’s happening between them. 

“Are you awake?” He asks now, still slightly hesitant in front of you. You can almost see him hold himself back. 

From something.

“As far as I know.” You tilt your head, glancing around the room. “Um, can I go to the bathro–”

“Can you read that clock?” He interrupts you and points to the candle-lit wall. 

“Three thirty–” You pause, squinting to make sense of the exact minute. “three.” 

He smiles at the fact that you’re entirely awake with him this time, despite the drowsy lure he had you in when he appeared at your door. 

You’re here of your own free will, and you’re not running. 

“Do you want to go home?” 

You’re confused by the questions. As confused and drunk as you felt upon stumbling out your apartment door, you very much came here willingly. If anything, you’re just a little weirded out by the fact that you were paying such close attention to him that you missed the way blood seeped through your clothes. 

“No?” You offer back to him before taking a deep breath. “Can you show me where the bathroom is though?” 

And before you can even comprehend it, Sunghoon is right up against you. Looming and staring down as his hands rest on your shoulders before sliding down to your waist. 

“Now, now.” He chuckles, lowering his face just an inch, resting his lips on your forehead. “Why would I want to do that?” 

“Because I’m gross right now?” You laugh awkwardly, trying to take a step back but realizing that his grip on you tightens. 

“Oh, have you forgotten?” He laughs out, lowering himself more, dragging his lips all the way down your face, neck, chest. 

“Ah, wait–” You panic when you feel his nose against your stomach, threatening to go lower. “I’m like…” You’re embarrassed to say it now. 

After all, you came here with the clear indication of fucking. Period or not, you’re not afraid of a little bit of blood but…this.

“Sunghoon, I’m on my period.” You finally speak into the room, trying to push his face from your stomach. 

“I know.” He smiles, pressing his nose harder against your stomach. “Drove me crazy all day.” He dips his face down instantly, inhaling deeply between your legs.

Something inside of you is insanely turned on by his blatant interest in you. 

“All day?” You ask, hands reaching for his hair as he drags his nose straight through the mess you’ve made. 

“Could smell it, darling.” He laughs, pulling back and looking up at you. “Smells so sweet, not gross. Delicious.”

Why the fuck is the blood smeared against the tip of his nose so alluring? Jungwon was right, you really are into some freaky shit. Then again, it’s not so weird considering you’ve never done this before. Everyone’s gotta start somewhere when it comes to kinks, right? 

“Can smell something else too.” He looks back between your legs, ignoring that you are trying to act like you don’t want to let him. “You’re aroused.” 

Oh. 

And just as you’re preparing for some sort of pressure between your thighs, you feel a waft of cold air rush up your body when he stands and grabs your face with both hands. 

“You never came back.” He hisses against your lips, dragging you back and further into the room with him. “I had to sniff you out like a fucking dog.” 

Your mouth falls open at the spiteful shift in his voice, following his movements all the way into the room until he’s spinning around and pushing you from his hold. You fall back against something insanely soft, and instantly you moan at the feeling of silk against you. 

Barely able to catch your breath, he’s over you. He’s on you. Tucking his face into the crook of your neck with a low rumbled growl in his throat and inhaling over and over again. 

Inhale. Inhale. Inhale. 

And you can feel him nose his way all the way up to your face, opening his eyes and staring straight through you with slack lips just over yours. 

You’re mesmerized by him at this moment. Never has a man acted this way with you and it’s insane to think you’d ever be satisfied with someone who wouldn’t. You almost strain your neck to kiss him, and you truly would have if it weren’t for the fact that you feel him sink his hand into your shorts.

Not even a second to truly comprehend how ice-cold his fingers feel when he slips them down and slides two of them into you. He watches your face when he does it, his own slack lips turning to a smile when you moan out at the smallest of pleasure he wants to offer you. 

“Oh, look at you,” He coos, feeling your arms shoot around his shoulders when he continues to slide the digits in and out of you. “So sticky, what a pretty little mess.” 

You groan in embarrassment at the act, knowing full well that you’ll have to face the fact that you like it at some point after he’s finished with you. You don’t mind admitting it so much now though. The way his fingers slide through the thick mess, forcing the scent of brass to mix with his own cinnamon aroma? To die for, truly. 

“I could just eat you up–” He chokes in a whisper this time, struggling to maintain his composure from the sickening sweet smell of your blood. “Would you like that?”

You lift up instantly, kissing against his slackened smile. It’s one sided, as he simply lets you do it and nothing more. Mostly because he, himself, is spiraling into a frenzy of what he needs more than what you want. It’s all pleasure the same though, as he feels your tongue trace against one of his sharpened teeth.

Just a small bite. Just a taste.

“Ah–” You pull back in a wince, the flavor of blood hitting the back of your taste buds as you look up at him with confusion.

He doesn’t allow much looking though, as you hear that same rumble from his throat right up against your lips. You feel his tongue lick you up, slurping the blood straight from your new wound and moaning through the flavor of it. 

His eyes flutter closed as he tries to hold down his thirst, knowing that his fingers are fucking dripping with this same sweet, red slick. It wouldn’t take much now for him to break and let it all drip down his throat. He could end this now if he’s not careful.

And when he opens his eyes again as he pulls back from your sweet tongue, he notes the look of confusion still on your face. His eyes roll in fond annoyance at you for that, only because you have this stubborn need to question despite having the clear answer bleeding from your mouth. 

“You’re still trying to pretend you don’t realize?” He asks, whispering real close to your lips, darting his tongue out and offering a small kitten lick as he buries his fingers deep. 

Your lips open for him in a moan and he licks into it again. Your still bleeding tongue only drives him further and further from a stable mindset. No one, not in hundreds of years, has tasted this fucking sweet. He almost can’t savor it with the way his body rises from slumber at the mere fucking scent of you from ten blocks away. 

His cock pulses for the first time in decades for you. God, he feels more alive than he did when he was actually cycling blood through his veins. 

“You just sliced open that pretty tongue on my teeth.” He chuckles, basking in the warmth he can only feel with you beneath him. “My fangs, love.” His fingers continue their slide all the while, the sounds of squelching blood filling his ears more than your soft groans for more. “Still, you seem to deny what this is and what I am.” 

You can hear his words, but comprehending them isn't quite as easy. Like, yes, he’s got a vampire kink. Whatever. 

“I get it, you’re kinky.” You huff out, missing the way he stifles a laugh at your denial of the truth. 

“You’re a stubborn one–” He smiles, flashing the same fang that sliced through your tongue. “It’s a bit frustrating. Perhaps even endearing.” 

And then, suddenly, his fingers come to a halt and he waits for you to look at him. Just as you go to speak, he’s sliding his fingers out of your mess so quickly, shushing you with his red stained digits. 

“Now, listen.” 

It’s silent. More silent than you ever thought the world could be. 

“Do you hear it?” 

You shake your head, feeling his fingers leave a trail of your blood against your lips as he drags them away and up to his own mouth. 

There, he hangs his fingers from his mouth, licking gently and tasting thoughtfully before sliding them further in. He sucks them clean in an erotic show of his blood-lust before letting them fall from his still licking tongue. Then, he’s slotting them right back between your legs, wanting more to taste. 

“No? You don’t hear how loud it is?” He asks now in a lower tone, still thirsty, still in need, dipping down to lick the blood from your face. “All that blood in you, bundled up right–” His fingers press hard against your clit. “Here.”

Your body jolts in pleasure, eyes rolling back at the mere sensitivity he forces your body into. God, kinky is right. He knows how to use words. His voice is so elegant while spewing the filth, so proper.

“Ahh, that feels good, doesn’t it?” He questions you in a moan that mimicked your own, now lowering himself from your face and kissing down your clothed chest. Down, down, down. “Do you think you’ll believe me when you feel the blood drain out of you?” His voice echoes in your ears, reminding you of the vampire-like thirst he’s trying to act upon. 

And when he slips your shorts down your legs, you don’t even protest. Which at this point isn’t weird at all. The dude is insanely into it and you can’t help but feel like you can vibe with it if he keeps acting like this. He’s good at roleplaying. 

Instead of an embarrassed protest, you respond to him by spreading your legs and presenting the red mess he’s smeared all over you. Inviting him.

He glances up at you as he watches, saying nothing, thinking nothing except for the fact that– you are perfect. 

In every way, spread out and dripping blood, perfect.

You feel an intense jolt of pain shoot through your body just seconds later, followed by a loud and almost animalistic moan from the man between your legs. You lift slightly as you try to look down at him, witnessing the way he sucks the flesh of your thigh into his mouth, blood weeping from the new wounds his teeth create.

So much blood. He’s the one drunk now, utterly fucking mesmerized by the amount of it you pour for him. Your fleshy thighs offer the freshest, he couldn’t help but take a sip before giving you what your quivering body is truly begging for. He has to quench the genuine thirst before playing with his food, at least. 

And as you watch him it’s like you’re nothing but a piece of meat at this moment. He’s sucking and sucking against your thigh until you’re sure your toes are numb. They’re tingling, and you can physically feel the blood being pulled from you. As if his teeth are two syringes seeping it out of you. 

Af if they are. Not because they actually are, right?

And by the time your toes are effectively filled with static, he finally releases the fleshy bite on your thigh. You stare down, listening to him smack his lips and lick the corners of his mouth, seeing the way he doesn’t make eye contact with you at all before he’s turning his attention and burying his tongue into your crimson coated cunt. Without warning, but with so much eagerness with his tasting lips. 

Your eyes flutter with a loud and strained gasp, eliciting a groan of his own to bubble into the blood that falls against his tongue with each passing pulse of you. He licks in time with your heartbeat, which is fucking insane that you can tell he does it. Never before now have you heard your heart beat so loudly, so frantically in your ears. 

And you would be embarrassed, perhaps even worried that the taste is awful. Maybe it’s too much for him, maybe this kink is all just for show and this is a limit he’s only willing to try once before realizing himself that he doesn’t necessarily like drinking the blood from a woman’s pussy…except– Sunghoon gives you no reason to feel like any of that is true. 

No, no. Oh no. He’s fucking relishing in it and you can tell by the way he moans and skews his head to dig his tongue deeper. You can tell by the way he smothers himself, not coming up for air for even a second of the time he’s spending down there. 

And god, you can feel the mess of it all. Sticky, smearing all over your thighs when his fingers trace you mindlessly before gripping your thighs just to pull you down the bed, closer against his face, sliding his tongue ever deeper.

Moaning, fucking slurping it out of you without so much as a breath. 

He’s not breathing.

And now? You panic, focusing more on the time he’s spending burying his mouth and nose into you than the feeling of it. Your hand shoots down into his hair, pulling his head back and away from you. 

Then your breath is caught in your throat at the sharp image. His eyes blown out, widened at you. Nose, cheeks, chin, tongue all glistening with sticky crimson slick, and a smile.

He smiles at you. 

At least before his tongue is clicking and he’s poking it into the side of his cheek before reaching back, grabbing your hand, and shoving it out of his hair before sinking his face right back between your legs. As if to show you that he was annoyed by that. 

You don’t get to think about it though, because this time he’s licking you more frantically than he already was. Fast tongue flicking and fucking you, his teeth dragging against your pussy lips, refusing to let you believe that he wants to breathe fresh air right now. 

Your hands find purchase in his hair yet again though, and you feel him grip your legs and stiffen his shoulders to keep his head in place just in case you try to pull him from you again. You hear the deep growl. You feel it rumble against you as if to warn you to keep your hands to yourself if you’re not going to let him do exactly what he said he would fucking do. 

So, you don’t pull him away. Instead, you play in his hair with your weak hands. Twisting and twirling strands of it between your fingers until he’s pulling his tongue back on his own. 

A shock to you, truly, that he does it at all. But you guess it makes sense when you feel another sharp pain in your thigh, right below the preview bite he had given you. 

Just when you were gaining feeling back in your toes too. 

And he goes back and forth like that for a while, until his face is utterly soaked in diluted blood and pussy-slick. Until he needs to look at it pulse, and watch how beautiful you still, fucking still, have more to pour out for him. 

He’s amazed, really. Never has he served himself a woman that’s openly bleeding for him like this. After all, he prefers to drink his dinner from the carotid artery and be done with it. He was far more creative back in the day though, you know, when his cock still worked. 

Most of his sexual pleasure came from drinking alone. Never getting hard but always reaching climax in one way or another when he gets that last, delicious drop of blood from his victims. But now? Oh, now. You’ve stirred his arousal back to life. Not from pure hunger, but lust.

It’s been so long that he’s lusted. So, so fucking long since he’s cared enough to fuck his prey or give in to the temptation of menstrual blood. In fact, he can’t even recall ever allowing his victims to fall away from the drowsy lure he puts them in. Many of them didn’t know what was happening to them before death and he preferred it that way. 

Until you. An average looking commoner with insane fucking blood. Devilish blood. Divine, demonic, angelic, fucking celestial tasting blood. 

After all this time, he’s had beautiful face after beautiful face. He’s had men, women, celebrities, false-prophets, and even purely divine bodies.. But you…oh no, he can’t simply kill you like those utter throw-aways.

There was a reason he didn’t end you the first night. Something in him caught fire on the taste of your drunken blood. The alcohol you had ran through his veins along with a taste he’s never once fathomed existing. It was the first time in hundreds of years where he forced himself to let you walk out of his quarters. 

Blood with no comparison. So thick, so sweet, so…damning. How could he have just killed you there? How could he pretend like it’s not addicting? Like he didn’t want you to continue producing more and more of it, all for him to drink up?

Of course he wants all of it. He wants to drain you to your last fucking drop, but then he’d never taste it again. Not in thousands of years, at least. So now, as his cock pulses awake and your heavy flow only produces more and more for his hungry mouth to lick up– fuck.

It’s been so long since he’s felt something for a victim like this, and even longer since he’s wanted to use his cock. No, needing to use it. It feels almost foreign to him now after so many centuries, to fuck and eat at the same time. To indulge in all the pleasure, and not just the one that keeps him alive. To want you to feel the pleasure too, to need you to want him without the false sleep forcing it.

You. 

You’re the one. You’re the one he’s going to keep. For as long as you’ll let him, and when you stop letting him, he’ll have no choice but to lure you again. Forever. All for him. 

“Love,” He rasps out, staring at the way your pussy shines so prettily in front of him, the pulse drawing him to near starvation despite being drenched in his meal. “Never have I wanted to fuck before I–” 

Kill, is the word he almost used. It’s instinctual, but instead he releases a moan from his throat at the mere thought ignoring that instinct. Drinking, sipping. Forever just a fucking appetizer and never the full meal. He can settle. He will settle.

Never. Truly never has he wanted to stop himself from drinking just to fuck and he needs you to know that. The feeling is too erotic for even him to comprehend right now, meshing with his hunger and making him feel –-

Gods be damned, he could kill you. 

He should kill you. Given the fact that he has never let a meal leave this room without being drained entirely. Never while they’re awake and fully aware anyway. Insanity. You’ve made him go insane, losing his wits enough to treat you as something more than a victim.

Despite hunting you as one. Despite never having to hunt anyone like he has you. Wanting you to be here willingly. Wanting you to love the feeling of his thirst. Wanting you to learn how good the drain feels. Wanting you to know what he is and needing you to love it. 

Needing you to stay alive. 

Insane. 

He’s fucking losing it.

He knows that if he can never smell this scent again, if he can never taste it, or have your fingers in his hair, if he can never want to fuck again? Oh, he’d crumble. 

He’d take a walk at noon.

You’re not dying tonight. In fact, never shall you feel the cold slab of a morgue freezer if he has anything to do with it. No blood wasted when it comes time for you, and no life truly lost either. 

If just for the sex. If just to quench a never ending thirst. 

If just to live in insanity.

“Before you–” You release in a breath that he chases. As if craving the life under him like an animal. “Before you, what?”

“Kill.” He whispers as he swallows each breath of yours, tasting the sweet sleep that you once held in your body. His own eyes feeling drowsy as if you have your own lure on him now. 

Even the panicked gasp you release at his choice of word there, he swallows it, kissing you hard in a drowsy groan and smearing the blood all through the kiss, letting your breath rumble out of his mouth as if the moan were from his own lungs. 

“So vacuous.” He chuckles now, feeling the pleasure of his cock jolt through his body. He presses himself between your legs, relishing in the sticky blood seeping straight through his sleep pants. “Do you feel that?” He continues, rutting against you as if he’s a virgin of all that he’s experiencing right now, licking each smear of blood from your cheeks and chin. 

“Ah, Sunghoon,” You groan, but you try to be serious in your tone. Feeling the orgasm that once was bubbling up settle back in your stomach. “You’re making a mess.” 

“Mm, I am.” He mutters mindlessly, pressing harder against you now as the taste settles in his throat. “Love, tell me. You feel it?” 

Of course you fucking feel it. 

The nod you lend pleases him, knowing that it’s not just his imagination. Finally, he can feel the warmth of a living being wrapped around him. Finally, he doesn’t feel so cold. 

“You can’t fathom what it is that you do to me,” He continues his sweet talk, running his lips down to your neck, leaving trails of that blood all the way before immediately piercing his teeth into the same wounds he left on you already. He feels your pulse against his teeth when he sucks and only groans weaker against you as he ruts. 

“Ah–” You wince in pain again, feeling the wound reopen with a cold and sharp prick. The pain ignites something inside of you to press your hips up, sliding yourself against his red-drenched pants. 

He chuckles into his bite at your willingness, his hands reaching straight down to shove his pants down in one movement. Euphoria runs through him at the feeling of your warm blood against him when he presses back against you.

Really, the feeling alone paired with the taste of your fresh blood yet again only drives him to keep going. After all, he has all the time in the world. His intention to keep you here only lends him the ability to press his length straight into that bloody, sopping wet hole of yours. The one pulsing for him, the one that lends his favorite smell, taste, and feeling in the world. 

His teeth are forced to retract when he throws his head back at the sensation of sinking deep into your cunt, one fluid motion reminding him of how much he loved this feeling before. How often he’d fuck, and fuck, and fuck until suddenly, he just– couldnt. 

You’ve ignited so much life within him, even while doing nothing more than lying here bleeding. No longer does he feel bored with the world considering he’s managed to find you in it. He could possibly even love you if you let him.

Especially with the way you react nearly the same as he does. As if you haven’t fucked before. As if you’ve never mixed scents with another being before ever coming to this city to chase your own demise. The little sounds you make could be so much more than what you think they are. 

They’re so similar to the ones you make when he bites, when he sucks, oh, so so similar. So deeply seeped in pleasure, pain, hesitation.

“Darling, are you afraid?” Sunghoon manages to say as he feels himself warm from inside of your tense body. “Do you believe me now? Do you understand now?”

You frantically shake your head at the tear of his cock spreading your walls open around it. That one slide rendering you near faint considering the amount of blood he’s taken from you already. The feeling of…ice. It’s in you, running from your veins all throughout your body. So, so, fucking cold. 

No, no, no. No living being on this earth could feel this hard inside of you while being this…oh. His hands have been cold on you too. Always. His scalp under your fingernails as you scratched. His lips, his tongue, all of it was freezing until your blood was coating him. Everything about him is ice.

Still, you shake your head through the pleasure, cock warming him both literally and unintentionally. He just sits inside of you, feeling the beat of your heart gush that same blood past his length and out of you. Your eyes slightly open to look at him, afraid of what you’ll see. 

He’s smiling. His eyes are…brighter.

“C–cold.” You manage to stutter out, nearly feeling brain freeze from the way he pulls his hips back and plunges into you again, warm blood splashing out and against his pelvis, coating your thighs more. And oh, that bite on your thigh, it’s dripping again. 

“So cold, yes?” He chuckles when he dips down, moving his hips steadily in and out of your sticky mess. No longer thirsty, just…aroused. “Do you understand?” 

You frantically shake your head again, grabbing onto him from over his shirt. You’re panicking inside, your fingers gripping so tight, trying to find heat. Needing heat. 

How did you not think about this more? It took this to recognize that he never warms? And he’s smiling at your panic? 

God, but it feels so, so fucking good. 

“Love,” He coos at your panic, pistoning his hips easily with the slide, bringing both of his hands to your face and forcing you to look at him. “I’m dead.”

Ah. 

So he is. 

Yet, the feeling of him inside of you feels better than you’ve ever had. The way his hands hold your face, the way his eyes blow out for you, the way his entire face is tinted in red. He’s so alive yet…

Entirely dead. 

“You’re afraid?” He asks through his own forgotten pleasure, wanting you to stay but entirely willing to put you to sleep so this doesn’t have to end. 

“Sunghoon,” You interrupt any words he’s about to give you, opting to continue fighting the truth when you note the softer tone of voice he uses despite the quickening pace of his hips. “Harder.”

Oh, the fire within burns colder than it ever has at those words. He doesn't even need to pull you? You don’t want to pretend this isn’t happening? You’re accepting him? 

If you want him to go harder, he’ll make you feel like no other. Harder he goes, using all of his pent up frustration of not being able to drain you fucking dead, all of his strength, all of everything he’s missed out for the past centuries– all of it. It’s behind his thrusts now as he slams into you. The blood that splatters out only makes the moment all the more grand to him. 

Breaths leave you with each slam, the sticky sound from below being drowned out by the sheer sound your heart rate in your ear. You’re still panicking, but you can’t help but want more. After all, surely what’s left for you after he’s done is….no, it’s not real.

He feels the fear pulse around his cock and moans out at it, the squeeze so tight, the gush so delicious. This entire room smells of you, and he wants it to be fucking drenched in you. The fear inside of you right now only intensifies the pleasure, and he knows he should be calming you through it, he knows he should tell you that you’re making out of this alive, but–

The way the heart beats so frantically when one is terrified. You’re dripping with fear, the smell of your blood intensifies with each petrifying pulse squeezing his cock to the point he feels his own heart make an attempt to pulse. Your life runs through him entirely out of fear that you’ll lose it. 

He can’t tell you, not when your body reacts so flawlessly. Exactly how it’s supposed to react. So delicious is that fear, he wonders if it makes your blood taste any hotter. He dips down, sinking his teeth into your neck once again and confirms his suspicions. It does taste hotter, sweeter, and it pumps itself so beautifully against his eager fangs. Almost as if you truly bleed for him, because he’s not even needing to suck for it at this point. 

It just drips, and pours, and bubbles out all for him to swallow up. 

You push through it though, the pain is so good, and if this is what it’s like to die, perhaps you’ve found yourself in a lucky position. At least you’re not being ripped to pieces by a stranger, or crushed beneath your own car on a highway. At least this way, you’re being held and seemingly adored.

And the fear, excitement, and pure adrenaline in your body forces it out of you. A rush of heat slamming Sunghoon right in his gut when you convulse under him. Legs shaking as you moan out both in disbelief and intense ecstasy. The blood tastes even sweeter now for him, so sweet that he has to pull back in a guttural and demonic growl.

It’s been so, so long since he’s felt a woman cum around him. His own body reacts in an instant, releasing his own thick secretion into you as you shake through it. Sweating, panting, drooling, crying, bleeding. All for him. 

And the explosion behind his eyes is a reminder to keep you alive. He forces himself to keep the inhale from happening as he plunges into you one last time, coating the inside of your bloody walls with a flurry of freezing ropes. Amazed at the feeling he has long forgotten, his body shakes through it and renders him near psychotic for the release. 

You continue to shake with him, shivering at how the man makes you feel as if you’ve been lying in snow for days, but you keep your eyes closed. 

You’re terrified of him, of this, of the truth hitting you square between the eyes as if it wasn’t obvious all along. Fantasies, legends, fairy tales. How many of them are based in reality? 

You know what’s coming now, based on those same stories. 

The last bite, the drain, fuzzy images, death.

And you embrace for it, trying to relish in the post-orgasm bliss before it happens because you know there’s no way to run from him. If he’s truly what he says he is, there’s no chance in this world that you can stop him. You’re going to die, and the strange way in which your brain accepts the inevitable is more calming than petrifying. 

You never knew you’d be able to prepare for it like this, but here you are. Waiting for it. Accepting it. And when you feel the air of his body shift down to you, right up against your neck, you squeeze your eyes shut and hold your breath.

His cold hand tilts your face and all you can do is anticipate as you feel his teeth graze the abused and swollen marks there. 

Here it is. 

You inhale deeply, hoping that if there’s an afterlife, this last breath will be a good memory for you until–

A kiss.

He kisses the wounds. He licks them. He nuzzles his cold nose against them, and then he pulls out of you and lays directly on top of you. 

It’s silent as you lay here, still trying to prepare to fucking die and he’s just prolonging it? 

“Get it over with.” You gripe, frustration dripping out in your weak voice. 

It’s laughable, really, that you’ll sound so argumentative and petty over the loss of your life. So laughable that even he’s chuckling about it, right against your ear with no breath fanning against your skin. 

“Get what over with, darling?” He asks, not having felt this drowsy drained state in so long. 

Your mind is racing though, seemingly trying to think of everything that has ever happened in your life onto everything you wish still could happen, only to consistently land on the fact that you don’t want to believe what’s happening. 

You know very well the denial you’re forcing yourself into, even in the face of demise, you don’t want to believe any of this. 

“I still can’t believe that you’re— No,” You dead-pan before taking in a terrified breath, still keeping your eyes closed. “They’re not real.”

“I’m very, very real.” Sunghoon argues back, infatuated with the denial you try to keep. “You know that I am.” 

“So, you have to kill me then?” Your voice gets smaller as you accept the truth little by little, your breath shakier. “Fucking get it over with then, stop trying to savor it, it’s not like I can run now, right?” 

You still like the way he laughs, so breathy despite having no breath of his own. And through that laugh, he lends another kiss before you feel all of that weight lift from you and dip onto the bed next to you instead. 

“Don’t beg for it.” Sunghoon warns, pulling away from you and forcing his instinct to remember the release of the orgasm he just had. “I won’t be able to stop myself if you ask me so prettily.” 

You pause, your eyes opening against your will as you look at him. He’s facing away from you, but you can see the damp blood drying in the strands of his hair. Your eyes trail down, a puddle of blood staining nearly the entire lower half of the bed and it’s still dripping out of you. 

Or perhaps, that’s whatever it is he fucking shoved into you and fucked out of himself. 

“None of this is happening.” You say to yourself. “I did not just fuck a vampire.” 

“You’re right.” He comments with another laugh. “A vampire just fucked you.” 

Well. You’re still not ready to believe that. Even with the absence of heat, even with the lack of breathing. 

“Prove it.” You ask, unsure as to why you’re wanting it both to be real and just a dream.

You back away when he immediately does as he’s asked. Turning to you and crawling over you. There, he lowers his body, chest to your cheek. 

“Listen.” He says, reaching to hold your face and press it up and against his chest. “Anything?”

You wait, listening for a thump, anything to prove he’s wrong. Fucking any sound at all to blow his cover. 

You’re frozen as you listen, your body going into fight or flight as the seconds turn to minutes. Unfortunately, your body is not a fighter, nor a flier. You’re stuck with his hand on your cheek, holding you so tightly against something you wish was alive. 

A little thump, thump, thump could be the most relieving sound to you, but no. There’s nothing. 

You pull away from him now, body still frozen but head running a mile a minute. How many proofs does he need to provide for you to understand that it’s not fantasy? 

And finally, you feel your body jerk away from him on its own. He’s startled by the movement and you use that short second to roll off of the bed. You do your best to stand, but your brain immediately pulses in pain. Your vision goes fuzzy, dizzy.

Right, you’ve lost a lot of blood tonight. To think your toes aren’t still numb, to think you’d be able to stand without dropping to the ground.

“Thousands of years.” Sunghoon stands quickly, stalking over you and wrapping his arms around you. There, he presses you back on the bed and straddles your hips. “I’ve never told another soul and let them live to remember it– until you.”

You shake under him, the weight feeling more dead now than it ever has. He’s heavy as he holds you down, but somehow his grip on you is gentle. His voice is soft. His eyes are hesitant. He’s not holding you here to hurt you, it seems.

“My love, I told you time and time again,” He glances away from you, feeling something within him shrivel at the thought that now you’re unwilling. “Is it different now? To find that I’ve told no lies to you?” 

Still, he soothes you as you try to comprehend reality. You think hard through the dizzy fog of blood-loss, running more with your mind than your body. He did tell you. And you’re still alive. He just drank and drank from you, and you’re still alive. 

He came to your apartment, he told you he smelled you. 

He’s never lied. 

You just refused to listen. 

He drank you, he fucked you, he held you, and now he’s holding you. 

“I don’t want you to fear me.” Sunghoon admits with sad eyes, trying to ignore how long it’s been since he’s felt sad at all. 

So many emotions you force him to feel, this was not one he was looking forward to. 

“How can I not be afraid?” You breathe out in slurred speech, as if to mock him, because you now know that he truly can’t do it himself. 

“It’s too late to be afraid.” He says apologetically. “You’d have died weeks ago had I wanted it.” 

Why are you still falling in love with his voice? With his stupid grammar, and his horrifying dead-skin? Even with the fear in your stomach, why does this make your heart flutter?

“I’ve never felt so full,” He admits now, releasing his grip on you slowly. He can smell your heart slow, knowing you’re starting to calm now. “Until now.” 

You stare up at him as your eyes recover back to clear vision, in awe of how gentle a killer is being with you. Inspecting the way he’s drenched in your blood, yet you truly still are breathing. He could have killed you time and time again. 

But he didn’t. 

He’s never once lied to you about what he is, and still you struggle to believe what he says. Even when his words match his actions. Sure, he’s a vampire, but he’s not going to kill you? 

What reason do you have to believe him save for the blatant truth behind it? Do you want to believe him? Would you rather be dead?

He knows you can’t fathom the truth so quickly though, and that’s why he’s being gentle. He has nothing more than patience to give to you, if it’ll end in your acceptance anyway. The fact that he can hear your heart beating correctly again only gives him hope that he’s right about not having killed you on the first night.

After all, he truly hasn’t lied to you. Never has he felt full, even after killing several a night. Always hungry, always thirsty, always needing more and more of the syrupy life strangers offer to him under his lure. But you. Entirely aware, flowing with blood that drives him crazy…you’ve managed to fill that desire in him. 

Why should he lie to you? Why would he kill you if there is no need? Despite fighting the instinct, he’s satiated by you. His cold body warms with yours. He will never get enough of you, so how on earth could he just…take that away from himself?

And you do stop fighting. In fact, you lay with him in a bloodied mess and sleep. Despite wanting to ask questions, wondering if he can even sleep at all. Your body is tired, your mind is still petrified, and your hands still cling to the source of it, unsure if you’ll make it to morning at all.

Still, somehow, this feels holy. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

PART TWO Fanart by @a-the-na 🖤🖤🖤🖤

[vivwritesfics]

No Need To Ask

Chapter Twenty-Seven - The Hardest Thing Is Letting Go

The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.

But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.

1.9K words

Warnings: Funeral

guy's im still so sorry for this one, it's incredibly angsty - I promise I'll make things fluffier soon

Series Masterlist

"There was a time when I was afraid of the world. I was afraid of what was happening in my life and what it was becoming. I was afraid of the world we find ourselves being apart of."

Y/N had never addressed a room like this. Each and every mafia boss stared at her. Her own husband stared at her, with admiration in his eyes, Lando too. He was so proud of his little sister for doing something like this.

She shouldn't have to do it. The fact that she was standing in front of everybody to honour her best friend was astounding.

Tears were ready to fall, but Y/N wouldn't let them. She was going to be strong. For Oscar.

"There was one person who I could count on when I was this scared. He watched over me, kept me company and made me feel normal. There were times when I was breaking down and he'd play some music and get me to dance, taking my mind off of everything.

"That man was Oscar Jack Piastri."

She'd started writing this letter the moment that Carlos had gotten her back to Spain. It had started out as a letter to Oscar, with a lot more in it than she was willing to say in his funeral.

"Oscar wasn't a part of the Norris family," she continued. "In theory, we were never destined to meet. Every day since he first came into my life, I thank my lucky stars that we had him on loan from Webber."

Her hands shook as she turned the page.

"Without Oscar, I wouldn't be here today. He saved my life in so many ways. There was a time in my life, without him by my side, I would have ended it all."

The tears were free flowing now. Carlos stood from his seat and came to stand beside his wife, trying to gently coax her to sit down, but she wouldn't. She had a a speech to make.

She skipped over the next little section. That bit was for her and her only. "Oscar was the bravest of us all. He endured so much. He didn't have to be harsh or domineering to show just what power he had.

"But he was also kind and sweet." He was my soulmate, in the most platonic sense of the word.

Platonic, Y/N thought. But a small part of her was so sure, had circumstances been different, it would be Oscar she was in love with, Oscar who was holding her through the night. Even if they were still in with world of crime and mafia families, if Y/N didn't have to marry Carlos, she was sure she and Oscar would have been together.

She knew this before she got married, but she couldn't say anything. In another universe she would have loved Oscar.

"He saved my life more than once, and I will never be able to repay that debt," she said, wiping away the tears rolling down her cheeks. "He was the very best of us and our world will never be the same without him. Oscar-" But she stopped, just a second to compose himself. "Oscar..."

This time, when Carlos wrapped his arms around her, Y/N fell into him, crying against his chest. He held her for a moment, stroked her back and ran his fingers through her hair.

He moved Y/N behind him and addressed his fellow heads of family. "Oscar became a very dear friend of mine. Without him, I wouldn't have my beautiful wife standing by my side. To that, I say we raise our glasses-" Nobody had a glass in hand "-to a man we will sorely miss."

It was different to the funeral of Norris. The grief Y/N felt was different, harder to deal with.

After the funeral, Carlos took his wife home. They sat in the very back of the car as they were driven to the Webber plane hangar. Lando had organised food for everybody for after the funeral, but Y/N just couldn't be here. And Carlos knew it, too.

They sat beside each other on the jet, her head on Carlos's shoulder as she cried herself to sleep. Oscar was gone. The words still felt foreign to her.

It was incredibly long flight, with the couple stopping over in Malaysia. They had been the ones to take Oscar's body back to Australia, back to his family, to be buried. It meant a long trip for them, but they didn't care. After all that Oscar had done for them, this was the least they could do for him.

It was near a day later that they touched down in Spain. Their stay in Madrid had been short lived, just long enough to refuel the Spain. They should have stayed in Australia, the couple thought. But that was too painful.

Carlos drove them back to the house. He kept his hand on her leg as the radio played quietly, filling the space between them. They didn't have to speak; it wouldn't help anything for the time being.

"I wish he could have met baby Oscar," she whispered as they approached the gate in front of the house. She cradled her bump with one hand, the other on top of Carlos's.

Before the funeral, Carlos had insisted that they go to the hospital, for Y/N's first prenatal check up. They found out just how far along she was and the sex of the baby.

As soon as they found out they were having a boy, she knew they had to call him Oscar. Oscar Sainz, after the man that had saved his life. His middle name was chosen by his father. Pau, a Spanish name. OP Sainz. Their baby was OP Sainz.

Carlos drove through the gates when they opened and pulled into the garage. He opened the car door for Y/N and held her hand as they walked through the house. The house was different now, it felt colder somehow.

"I'm going to get us guard dogs," he said as they climbed the stairs.

Y/N nodded her head as she walked through the hall, heading towards the room that Carlos and Oscar had decorated for the baby. She hadn't seen it yet, just listened as Carlos told her about it to try and calm her down.

Her breath caught in her throat as she walked into the nursery. "You two did all of this?" She asked as she looked around the room, They had done everything, put up shelves and built the drawers and wardrobe. They'd painted the walls and set up the crib, including a little tee-pee tent full of cushions and blankets.

There was a blanket in the crib, one decorated with giraffes. Y/N picked it up and held it close to her chest as she looked around the room. Her husband and her best friend had done all of this for her baby. It was a living memory to Oscar, just like the baby would be.

"I'm thinking of painting his name on the door," said Carlos as Y/N turned towards him.

Y/N put the blanket back and fell against her husband, pressing her lips to his. "My wonderful husband," she whispered, her eyes closed as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her softly.

He took her hand and walked her out to the window. "Take a look," he said and she looked to where the golf course used to be.

Carlos had set up an entire play area for their child. If Y/N had the strength to cry, she would have. But she couldn't anymore, her body too exhausted.

"What would you like for dinner, mi corazon?" He asked, his finger trailing up her arm.

"I just want to sleep, Carlos," she croaked, exhausted.

That was fine, he'd let her sleep. Carlos followed her out of the nursery. He watched as Y/N turned left, heading back to her old room. That was right, he hadn't told her yet. "Querida, wait!" He called as he grabbed a hold of her arm. "This way."

Carlos led her into his bedroom, the bedroom they now shared. He'd moved all of her things in during those twelve weeks that he had been alone. He sat her on the bed and got her changed into her loosest and comfiest pyjamas. "Sleep, mi corazon. I'll have dinner for you ready when you take up," he said and pulled the sheets back.

Y/N climbed under it. She closed her eyes as Carlos kissed her forehead and left the room.

He spent the next few hours making his way through work. It was comforting, having things back to normal. Or, as normal as they could be. Most of the work he went through was sorting through his fathers affairs.

After three hours of working, there was a knock at the office door. He glanced up briefly and returned to his work. "Not now, madre," he muttered under his breath as he strode into the room.

"¿Y? ¿Ya no hablamos nuestra lengua materna?" She asked as she sat in the seat opposite him. (And? Don't we speak our native language anymore?)

Letting out a sigh, Carlos looked up from his work and placed his pen down. "Podemos hablar nuestra lengua materna, madre. ¿Qué te gustaría hablar?" (we can speak our mother tongue, mother. What would you like to talk about?)

"No hemos tenido una cena familiar desde que murió tu padre," she said, correcting her posture and sitting up straighter. (We haven't had a family dinner since your father died.)

Carlos shut his eyes for a moment. It was their first night back in the house since Y/N's kidnapping. "Por favor madre. No es una cena familiar a menos que mi esposa esté allí. Después de todo lo que él ha pasado, ella necesita tiempo." (please mother It's not a family dinner unless my wife is there. After everything he's been through, she needs time.)

He stood up. "Now, if you'll excuse me," he began as he switched back to English. "I'm going to make my wife some dinner."

Carlos strode out of his office, leaving his mother where she was.

And he really did make Y/N dinner. He didn't ask the cooks to do it, he got stuck in and made her something to eat. It was surprising, just how good of a cook Carlos was. It was also surprising how much he enjoyed it.

He made her dinner, along with a side of buttered toast, just in case she didn't want what he made her. He walked it up to the bedroom and placed it on the dresser as he gently woke her up. He whispered her name and shook her shoulder gently. "Wake my, mi amor. I made you dinner."

Y/N opened her eyes. It was clear from the way she stared at him, eyes wide, that her sleep hadn't been peaceful. Carlos placed the plates in front of her as she sat her. "Here, querida," he said and pulled the cutlery from his pocket.

She dug into her dinner, eating it all (including the toast). "My wonderful husband," she said as he placed the plates back onto the dresser.

Carlos climbed onto the bed and sat himself beside her. He grabbed a hold of her and pulled her onto his lap. "I love you," he whispered, his forehead pressed against hers. "My beautiful wife. I'm never going to let you go."

She grabbed his cheeks and lifted his mouth to hers.

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[gallifreyanhotfive]

Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 37

When Mel was 18 months old, she accidentally caused her older sister Anabel to fall down the stairs, which ended up killing her. Mel repressed the memories of her sister's death, and her parents decided to keep Anabel a secret from her. (Novel: Spiral Scratch)

When Leela eventually died, she was reborn as a girl named Emily. (Audio: The Child)

The Seventh Doctor visited Ace when she was a baby to apologize for many of the manipulations he would one day put her through (and that he would continue to put her through) because he thought it was easier talking to a baby than a teenager. He stole a baby picture of Ace and replaced it with a playing card while he was there. (Short story: Ace of Hearts)

Oliver Harper joined the First Doctor and Steven on the TARDIS because he was running from the police, who were chasing him because he had been outed as homosexual. (Audio: The Perpetual Bond)

Martha Jones met the Thirteenth Doctor while she and the Tenth Doctor were stranded in the 1960s after being attacked by the Weeping Angels. (Comic: A Little Help from My Friends)

The Fifth Doctor can go between referring to the TARDIS as "old girl" and as "flying deathtrap" incredibly quickly. (Audio: Zaltys)

Dodo Chaplet's funeral was attended by only two people: James Stevens and the Doctor. Her entire life after leaving the TARDIS was a shitshow and became dark enough that I will not elaborate here. Feel free to do some digging, but it is not for the faint of heart. (Novel: Who Killed Kennedy)

However, there are other accounts of Dodo's post-TARDIS days that do not end as terribly for her!!!! :D

The Doctor's frequent trips in a damaged TARDIS during the 1970s and 80s disrupted Earth's timeline to such a great extent that the two decades folded in on each other, making 20 years worth of events happen in 10. This is how the UNIT Dating Controversy was addressed. (Short story: The Enfolded Time)

The Brigadier once bullied the Third Doctor into getting his metabolism checked over because he didn't believe the Doctor would be safe in Bessie or the Whomobile. While this was all happening, Sarah Jane helped foil a Dalek plot. (Audio: Glorious Goodwood)

Adric does not speak English. He hears Alzarian through the TARDIS translation circuits. (Audio: Zaltys)

Ace has a younger brother named Liam but didn't remember he existed for a long while because their father took him when their parents separated. (Audio: The Rapture)

While on a school trip to the Natural History Museum, Ryan and Yaz helped the Second Doctor fight Myriapods, which are insect like in nature. (Short story: The Myriapod Mutiny)

For a while, the Tenth Doctor traveled with Heather McCrimmon, descendant of Jamie McCrimmon. (Comic: The Chromosomal Connection, et al...she's in a lot of comics)

Rory Williams became Caesar of Rome as an Auton after the death of the Empress Augusta. (Audio: The Unwilling Assassin)

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[ghostlykeyes]

Hi Keyes! Nice to meet you ❤️ I was wondering if you would accept a request 👉🏻👈🏻

Its my first time asking for requests! So sorry if Im not clear enough of if I forget the rules. Im totally new at this T-T

I had this idea in my mind for a long time and I was wondering if you could consider writing it! Kayn x fem reader headcannons where Kayn falls haaaard for reader cause he found a partner in crime in her. They both like to cause a little trouble here and there, and also he found someone that could drive ever FASTER than him.

Omg Im so in love with him 😮‍💨❤️

Thank you and hope Im not breaking any rules!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

HEARTSTEEL KAYN/TROUBLEMAKER READER ♡ No TW's ♡ SFW ♡ Nice to meet you, you're so sweet!! Thank you for your fantastic request, I loved writing it! I hope you'll feel free to request more in the future (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

KAYN

Instead of traditional nicknames like "honey" or "babe", Kayn exclusively calls you his little demon. Given your wild side, it's pretty accurate.

All it takes to get Kayn to do something is a dare. He has a hard time turning down dares as is, but if it's coming from you? His partner in crime and chief enabler? Oh, no way in hell he's backing down. Naturally it works for big, bold things: popping a wheelie on the Paranoia MV motorcycles, climbing a water tower, vandalizing a cop car. It also works for small things, too, though. Dare him to get you a glass of water or give you a kiss and he'll roll his eyes, but comply. "Oh, a dare, huh? You know I can't turn those down." He folds to your innocent, cute demands like paper. Just be mindful, though; he knows you're a troublemaker too, and he's not afraid to throw a dare or two of his own your way.

Whenever Ernest is naughty, fingers immediately point at you and Kayn. "He gets it from you two," the rest of Heartsteel claims. Kayn just shrugs. "We're his favorite," he defends (not true—Ezreal is clearly Ernest's favorite, but it's best not to rub that in Kayn's face). "Of course he's gonna take after us." He rubs Ernest's ears, completely ignoring the fact that he just stole food off the counter or shredded K'sante's favorite shoes. "Yeah, you're our little monster, huh?" If you didn't know any better, you might think Kayn is encouraging the dog's troublemaking...

(He is. He totally is. You've literally seen him sneak Ernest a treat after turning one of Sett's plushies into a chew toy.)

Kayn nabbed your phone one time and set the home screen as a picture of his mug shot from the music video. Not to be outdone, you stole his phone and set the home screen as a picture of your mug shot. Kayn has nothing but questions. "Is this real?? The fuck did you do? Why do you look so hot in this..." Of course, you don't tell him if it's real or staged. You can't give away all your secrets so easily, now, can you?

There's a change jar in the Heartsteel apartment kitchen marked "Kayn and (Y/N)'s Bail Fund". At first you thought it was a complete joke, but then you noticed Ezreal drop a twenty in there after Kayn broke a Taco Bell drive-thru window during a night-out. Now you're not so sure. Either way, hopefully you'll never have to use it for that.

Every single time you and Kayn go somewhere, it's a race. You line your cars up at the mouth of the parking garage and then you fucking go. You've raced to McDonald's for lunch, raced him to his rehearsals, you even raced him to a funeral one time. There are no rules except 'get there first', and yes, this little game has resulted in multiple speeding tickets. But whatever what's a small fine compared to an adrenaline rush? They wouldn't put 130 on the speedometer if they didn't want you to do it.

Kayn and you have been permanently banned from a fair handful of establishments. Reasons why include: totaling a go-kart, throwing bowling balls overhead, bribing a ring toss worker to get a gigantic Bulbasaur without playing the game (Sett really, really wanted it). And that's the beginning. Don't even get Yone started on the infamous Laser Tag Incident...

The perfect date for you two is a rage room. Yone got you and Kayn passes for a local rage room for Kayn's birthday one year. Playing frisbee with glass dinner plates? A surprisingly good time. Sure, they may have asked you not to come back after Kayn got a little rowdy with an old radio and an extension cord (you asked him how high he thought he could slingshot the thing and the answer was "pretty fucking far", which of course he had to prove), but it was a good time regardless. Whenever Kayn's feeling extra stressed and you don't want to deal with the fallout around real property damage, you take him to a rage room for the afternoon and smash bottles to your hearts' content.

Kayn never paid much attention to minor scrapes and bruises before meeting you. But, since you're now hopping fences or slipping through open windows together, he's suddenly become attuned to the bumps acquired while daredevilling. He keeps a small container of band-aids in his bag just for you. "I might have some bandages in here," he grumbles whenever you get scraped up. "Dunno if I used 'em all." (Of course he hasn't. They're your band-aids and he wouldn't dream of using one.)

Whenever Kayn just needs to talk, the two of you often sneak into an old building to do it. Getting caught puts your nerves on edge, for sure, but it allows Kayn to pretend he's not anxious about discussing his own feelings or worries. Of course he feels vulnerable, you two are trespassing! That's totally why his palms are sweating and his chest feels tight. It has nothing to do with his deep-seated reluctance to talk about his emotions. If you can tell Kayn's wound up extra tight, offer to sneak into a nearby community pool or abandoned gas station late at night. Under cover of darkness, in the silent hallways of a vacant building, Kayn lets you take a peek under his dark shell.

[thefallennightmare]

Just Pretend-eleven

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: for this one, no theories or what ifs. it's all from our owns personal experience which makes it cathartic for us and maybe some of you. MUST LISTEN TO EILEY BY TOO CLOSE TO TOUCH! DURING THIS ENTIRE CHAPTER, OVER AND OVER AGAIN. HEADS UP: there will be talks of suicidal thoughts throughout this chapter so please please please, read with caution.

Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @koskeepsake

READER

My feet took me almost in autopilot mode to the end of the hallway where the door urged me forward while my heart kept screaming at me to turn around; go back. The tears that gathered in my eyes were blinding me and I could barley see as I pushed through the door, quickly ascending the staircase. So many questions filled my brain and nearly knocked me on my ass, I had to grasp at the railing. I gasped for breath, my lungs being crushed by the weight of leaving him. His broken eyes begging me to come back, not to leave. But my own issues kept me from following my heart.

Why did I leave? Why did I fucking leave? Why couldn’t I just talk? Why did I leave him like that?

Those usually bright eyes filled with so much darkness and sadness, it made me stumble over my feet as I neared the door that led out to the roof of the hotel. The wind brushed around me in rapid waves as I came to a sudden halt in the middle of the roof. Even though it was four in the morning, the hustle and bustle of the city noise carried all the way up here.

Why was I so worried about a future I wasn’t even sure I was going to have?

My mind was clouded with images of Noah and how I left him I didn’t realize I was standing at the edge of the roof until my foot slipped. I cursed while steading myself on my feet and stared down at the passing cars. If I was being honest, I wish I didn’t save myself from falling.

As I stood at the ledge, memories of Noah and I played in a loop in my brain as the weight on my chest caved in. Two hearts that beat in sync but they could never be.

When he first stepped off the bus, taking all the breath out of my lungs.

The day at the zoo where he bought me the stuffed wolf; the one Trey tossed out of the bus in his rage.

Our afternoon at the beach where we had a heart to heart conversation, one of many, and it made me realize Noah was someone I could trust. He made me feel so free and alive that day; like the crow.

When he analyzed my lyrics that first night of tour in the green room and how passionate he looked.

A choked sob crawled out of my throat when the memory of the night we lost Keaton slammed into me. Then his funeral and how broken Noah was that entire day. I thought I lost him into the darkness that was grief but no, quite the opposite happened. My lips tingled as I remebered our first kiss, the one we shared that night.

I should have known how fucked I would be for Noah Sebastian from that moment.

“Fuck!” I screamed while falling to my knees, sobs plowing through my entire body.

My chest finally caved in, bones crushing into dust, as that negative voice that buried itself so deep within years ago continued to chastise me for my decision.

You’re a fucking idiot.

How could you leave him like that?

He begged you to come back. He wanted you to stay until the morning.

Did you expect him to be okay with never having a family?

What man doesn’t want a future like that?

I told you he wouldn’t want to stick by all that bullshit.

“Stop it!” I smacked my palms onto my forehead repeatedly to quiet the voices.

It didn’t work; they only got louder and more persistent.

I tried to tell you, babe. Being with him only leads to heartbreak.

“Just get out! Get out of my head! I beg, please, just get out! Get out of my head before I cave in!” I screamed, now digging my palms into my eyes.

I was absolutely exhausted and unbelievably unhappy. I hated myself and was so angry for what I did. Noah and I were so happy and to see him smile that grin, the corners of his eyes crinkling made my heart burn in my throat. The tattoos that covered his toned stomach with slight pudge in the center. Soft skin and a comfortable smell I wanted to be buried in.

A mochi. My mochi.

No, not yours. You walked away.

I ruined it. I possibly, could have, most definitely destroyed the best thing that could have happened to me, besides this band. My hands shook, my body, my knees were weak. I should have stopped by my hotel room to bring some alcohol with me on this venture up here but knew if Chase or Malcolm saw me, they’d want to know what happened.

Shit.

Everyone had to know by now what happened, I’m sure they do.

Oh god, what did I do? To hurt Noah was like walking on broken glass. I never wanted to hurt him.

But you did, you bitch, you did!

“Oh Keaton,” I sobbed on my knees. “I ruined everything. You knew him better than me, what would he have done if I told him the truth and stayed!?”

Besides Chase and Malcolm, Keaton knew about my secrets only because he was there when the pain was unbearable. He helped me through it. So now, in this desperate time of need and confusion, I called out to the one person who couldn’t give me an answer.

CHASE

“Fuck, what do you think happened?” Malcolm wondered while tossing on a sweater.

I quickly stepped into a pair of sweatpants then ran a hand over my buzzed head. “I don’t know. But whatever it was, fucked both of them up.”

His hands shook as he tried to type something out on his phone and knowing Malcolm better than anyone, I knew he was seconds away from his own panic attack.

“Steven,” he wiggled his phone. “He’s wondering if there’s anything they can do to help find her?”

“No,” I said a little too quickly. “Tell them to take care of Noah; we’ll take care of Y/N.”

She was our responsibility; we made that promise to her father years ago when he came to visit. He couldn’t watch after her so he entrusted us to. We failed with Trey; we let him burry his claws so deep into her and now we’re afraid that whatever happened with Noah we wouldn’t be able to get her back.

Malcolm realized that too because his hands shook and breathing became uneven.

“Hey,” I said softly while covering his hands with my own. “We’ll find her, we always do.”

“I know,” he swallowed. “I’m just-worried. She told me earlier that she was going by Noah’s room to hang out. I didn’t think-.”

I cupped his cheek and pressed a tender kiss to his lips. “Why don’t you stay here in case, she comes back. I think I know where she might be.”

Malcolm eased into my touch, emerald eyes glowing from the moonlight casting in through the window, and if it was any other moment, I’d tell him I love him.

He knew already, but I still liked to remind him.

“I love you,” he breathed a long deep breath.

With a final kiss, I muttered I loved him back against his lips, before pocketing my phone and slipping out of the room. I didn’t bother checking throughout the hotel for her. There’s only one place she’d be.

The roof.

Y/N’s always had this fascination with behind higher than others. She wanted to feel like one of the Gods on Mount Olympus. But I didn’t doubt right now, she felt smaller than a peasant in past Athens.

The door to the roof was open, cold winds blowing down the fire escape stairs as I reached the top, eyes immediately landing on a figure curled up with their knees to their chest, sobs being drowned out by the noise from down below in the streets.

Panic set deep within my stomach as I neared her. “Y/N?”

At first my voice was quiet, so I said her name again, this time deeper; louder as I kneeled in front of her. “Y/N!”

Her eyes struggled to open due to how swollen they were from her crying, mascara running down her cheeks and staining her face.

“Sweets,” I sighed with slumped shoulders.

“Chase?” My name came out raw, a clear sign that her voice had gone horse; from what, I wasn’t sure.

“What are you doing up here?” I questioned while taking off my sweater and wrapping it around her shoulders.

She was only wearing shorts and a t-shirt. Her lips were blue from the cold of the predawn air and she shivered as I rubbed my hands up and down her arms.

“Oh, gods. What did we do?” Y/N cried while falling into my chest.

For a moment, I didn’t move her although I knew I needed to get her inside to warm up, but I decided another minute wouldn’t hurt. She needed that extra minute to let out all of her pent-up feelings and doubt. Something happened in that room between her and Noah tonight and I didn’t care how long it took, she would tell us what happened.

I hushed her cries with a soothing hand to her back, cradling her, until the cries lessened and her body went limp against me; she must have dozed off again. So lifting her into my arms, I carried her back down the stairs towards our floor and as I turned the corner, our room only two doors down, I stopped mid-step when my eyes landed on Steven and Matt.

Anger filled me for the briefest of moments but I tried to let it go. None of knew what happened so it wouldn’t be right for me to get upset with either of them. They weren’t in the room with Noah and Y/N.

“She okay?” Matt asked.

I nodded. “Found her up on the roof. She’s fucking freezing and I don’t know how long she was up there for.”

Steven sighed while running a hand over his tired face. “I’m glad she’s alright; given the circumstances. We’ll let the others know.”

Not bothering to say anything else, I stepped between the two of them so they could get a good look at how broken Y/N was; blue lips, puffy eyes, and face stained with makeup and tears. Noah wasn’t the only one hurting, she was too.

When I knocked on the hotel room door, I could physically see the relief fall away from Malcolm’s shoulders as he opened the door, letting me step inside.

“Get the blankets,” I motioned towards the bed.

He pulled them away so I could lay Y/N gently into the bed, both of us covering her with the mounds of blankets; and a few from the closet. As I stepped away to let her sleep, cold fingers wrapped tightly around my wrist.

“Chase.”

My name came out broken on her chattering lips and I laid a gentle hand on her face. “Get some rest, sweets. We can talk in the morning.”

She shook her head. “No, I n-nee-need-.”

Malcolm sat on the edge of the bed next to her while I stood behind him. “What do you need?”

“No-Noah,” Y/N forced out through the chills her body continued to attack her with.

“Y/N,” I sighed. “He’s not in a good place right now.”

Her eyes glimmered with tears before they fell from her eyes in groves. “It’s all my fault.”

Malcolm tensed under my touch on his shoulder. “What happened?”

Y/N remained silent as she stared up at the ceiling for a few long beats then she turned over in bed so she could face towards us, clutching the pillow closer to her chest.

Now I kneeled down in front of her so I could look directly into her eyes. “You need to tell us what happened.”

Malcolm wiped away her tears as she let out an unsteady breath. “I asked him a stupid fucking question.”

“What did you ask Noah?”

There was a slight hesitation in her words. “Where he wanted to be in 10 years.”

Malcolm and I shared a look with each other, not sure how that simple question could cause this much damage between them. Y/N could read us like a book, from start to end, so she immediately knew what we were thinking.

“Noah said one day, he wants a family, a dog and cats and a little wooden house,” she explained flatly.

Then it all clicked into place, the puzzle of the night with that simple word; family.

That subject always had been a sore subject with Y/N so we never brought it up. We knew how hard she had to work for things, especially that, so it was understandable why she freaked out the way she did.

“Sweets, it’s alright,” I cooed while brushing the hair away from her face. “He didn’t know.”

Malcolm agreed with a nod while rubbing her back. “I’m sure if you talk to him about it, Noah will understand.”

Suddenly, she was pushing away from us and stumbling out of the bed, both of us watching her pace with worry in our eyes.

“You guys don’t understand the pain. You don’t know how he looked!” Y/N pounded her chest. “It’s like a huge hole has been punched through my chest. This pain is the reminder, he is real.”

“Y/N,” I cautioned while rising to my feet and slowly walked over to her. “Everything will be alright.”

She jerked her hand away from me. “No, it won't! I did what I always do, Chase! I panicked and ran away. I so badly wanted to stay. Fuck, you guys should have seen his face when he asked me to stay- the crinkles, the cheeks, so sweet I just- I can’t believe I did this. I’m so damaged, guys, so damaged.”

I stood there frozen, unsure how to console Y/N because we’d never seen her like this; so broken. Tears fell from her eyes as her chest caved in with each deep, stuttering breath. As Malcolm pulled her into his arms, I took out my phone and typed out a message to Nicholas.

I know what happened.

MALCOLM

“Are you sure you two will be alright?” I asked while adjusting the bag on my shoulder.

Chase nodded while wrapping a protective arm around Y/N’s shoulder; she hasn’t slept since he brought her back into the room just a few hours ago. She was running on fumes, we all were, but I knew the long day she had ahead of her. She needed every ounce of energy she could find.

“We’re mostly going to pick up Salem,” Chase said.

Fuck, the cat.

I cringed at the mention of Y/N’s cat; soul as dark as its fur.

“I swear that cat fucking hates me,” I grumbled while leaning closer into Chase.

He chuckled while leaning up to kiss me, since I was a few inches taller than him. “I would say thats not true but we all know it is.”

Y/N let out a soft chuckle. “I’ll do my best to make sure he stays out of your guys’ room.”

I had to admit; it was really good to hear her laugh, even if it was a quiet one.

“You sure you don’t want me to come with you?” I asked.

Her face flinched with my words but she quickly recovered. “Yeah, we’ll be fine.”

“Last call for flight 3E for Los Angeles. Now boarding.”

The three of us glanced over towards the group of people that were sitting in the same lounge we were. Nicholas was sitting next to Noah, who refused to lift his gaze from the chip nail polish on his fingers. Jolly was talking with Folio and when he felt us staring, Nicholas gave a curt nod to Chase.

Without Y/N noticing, he pulled out his phone to send a text to Nicholas. After we told him we knew what happened, we promised we would tell him everything; about Y/N, her condition, and why she left.

“Do you?” I asked Y/N, nodding towards Bad Omens.

She shook her head, not daring to look any of them in the eye. “I can’t.”

“Okay,” I smiled weakly. “Call me when you guys land, I want to make sure everything goes smoothly.”

Chase and I shared a kiss before I pulled Y/N into my chest, her arms wrapping around me.

“Thank you,” she muttered into my shirt.

It was hard for me to show affection but for her; I found it easier.

I placed a kiss on top of her head. “Anytime, buttercup.”

With a final wave towards the two people that mean everything to me, I turned my back and fell into line with the large group of others that were flying back to Los Angeles. I stood a few spaces behind Noah, who could barley lift his head up, the weight of what happened last night pressing down on his shoulders. Guilt ate away at my insides knowing that I could fix it but it wasn’t my place too. The part of me that needed to fix the bad with something good was overpowering. Any time something got too tense or awkward, I was always there to smooth it over with my humor; but this wasn’t one of those times.

“Hey.”

Turning on my heels, I gave a small smile towards Jolly. “What’s up, man?”

“You’re not going to Vegas?”

We both took a step forward as the line moved slowly. “No, I’m heading back to LA to get our new place set up.”

“Right,” Jolly nodded. “You’re only a few miles from us now.”

“Yea.”

Silence fell between us and I shifted on my feet, my anxiety about this whole situation suddenly becoming too overbearing. I felt as if my lungs were being crushed from the inside out. Knowing that someone I loved was hurting because of a choice they made killed me. I wanted to fix things. I needed to fix this. It’s what I’d done all my life as the middle child. I was there to fix my younger brothers smile when our dad hit him a little too hard. I was there to fix my mom when my dad took his anger out on her instead. I hated not being able to fix the division that stood between Noah and Y/N.

Breathe, Chase’s voice cooed in my mind. Deep breath in, long breath out.

“They’ll be alright,” Jolly’s voice broke me out of my inducing panic.

We watched Noah’s head lift finally from the ground as the flight for Las Vegas was called. His eyes danced around the room, searching for someone, but it was too late. Y/N and Chase had made it to the other end of the airport, their flight leaving minutes after ours. Defeat and possibly anger radiate off of Noah as he handed his boarding pass to the attendant behind the desk and grumbled his thanks before slipping down the long hallway towards the plane.

“She didn’t mean to break him,” I defended Y/N. “She’s going through something that takes a lot out of her every month. It’s a constant battle between what she wants and what her body needs.”

“I know,” Jolly nodded. “We’re here if any of you guys want to talk.”

I bumped fists with him. “Thanks, man.”

READER

There’s a thousand voices in my head, all saying the same fucking thing, and I hoped they didn’t take a rope around my neck.

Pathetic.

You can’t give him what he wants.

He won’t wait for you. He’ll find it with someone else.

I slammed the pillow over my head to smother the voices away. The darkness that clouded over my room did nothing to help the raging pain that pounded within the confines of my skull. Everything hurt and screamed for release but I did nothing. I’d rather let my body succumb to it than ease it because once the pain was gone, memories of Noah crept back in and I didn’t want to be reminded of what I did.

How beautiful his face looked when he asked me to say until morning.

How broken his face looked when I said no.

And how destroyed his face was when he begged me to come back.

Noah’s face haunted me every single night the last two weeks that I refused to sleep for longer than a few hours because I would eventually wake with a scream, his name echoing off my walls. The guilt of walking away sat heavy on my chest as I sat in bed, scattered pens, papers, and a fully charged laptop at my feet.

Rain pelted hard against the large windows of my bedroom and I sighed, knowing there was another full day of storm's head; figuratively and literally.

Salem’s soft meow broke me from my frozen trace and I picked him up from the floor to set him in my lap. He purred loudly as I scratched his head, letting the softness of his black fur calm my racing heart.

“I know Chase already fed you, stop trying to get second breakfast.”

It had been a few weeks since I moved in with Chase and Malcolm, all of us falling into living together quite fast, until the pandemic hit and forced us inside. I didn’t mind it, being holed up in my room with my writing and Salem, but Chase was going stir crazy. He was the social one out of the three of us, and knowing he couldn’t go out to see friends or even go for a hike was making him bang his head against the wall.

Malcolm, on the other hand, loved staying home. He spent the time writing music on his bass or baking bread. According to Chase, the first few batches weren’t that great, but he didn’t dare tell Malcolm that.

I stayed in my room most of the day, only seeing one of them when they occasionally checked in on me or brought me something to eat; like right now.

A soft knock on my door made me tear my gaze away from the page full of lyrics.

“Hey sweet,” Chase said while leaning against the doorframe. “Are you hungry?”

I shook my head.

Salem jumped off of my lap and scurried towards the light that poured in from the hallway, clearly having enough of the dark somber of my bedroom.

“You have to eat something,” Chase sat at the end of my bed.

I pulled my knees to my chest and rested my chin on them. “I’m not hungry. I’ll come down and eat something for lunch soon.”

“It’s almost six in the evening, Y/N,” he sighed. “You’ve been up here all day.”

Shit, have I?

Glancing to the clock on my nightstand, I realized he was right.

“Oh,” I shrugged. “I’ve been busy.”

Chase pointed to the papers in front of me, a silent way of asking if he could read it so I agreed with a nod.

I wanna feel something. That's not the touch of your breath on my neck. I wanna feel something. That's not the weight of your world in my head. And all the walls are caving in.

“This is really good,” he mused while handing it back to me.

I simply hummed in response, not exactly sure what he wanted me to say.

“Anything else?” I asked after some silence, keeping my eyes trained hard to the rain splashing against the window behind Chase.

His jaw ticked. “You’re killing yourself, Y/N. I hate seeing you like this.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. Just call him and explain-.”

My eyes snapped over to Chase. “No, there’s nothing to fucking explain. I walked away from him, I hurt him, Chase. He won’t forgive me.”

“You don’t-.”

“Yes, I do! You don’t see what I see!” I pointed to my head. “Every fucking night his face haunts me. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat because it makes me fucking sick.”

I choked on a sob as tears slipped from my eyes down to the scatter of pages on my bed. My cries drowned out the rain as Chase pulled me down to bed, letting me lay against his chest, the wetness of my mistakes staining his shirt.

Memories of Noah will always fucking haunt me; how devastated he looked as I turned my back to him. I tried to force them away by thinking of anything else but truth was is I didn’t think he was going anywhere, soon. I’ve done some things that I can’t speak and I tried to wash Noah away, but he wouldn’t leave. Although, part of me was almost begging him to keep haunting me just, so I had an excuse to see his face.

I think I’m possessed, that was the only explanation. He put a fever inside me and I’ve been cold since I left him in that room weeks ago.

CHASE

I walked passed Y/N’s door again; she needed to eat. She hasn’t eaten anything since dinner last night and that was a small bowl of cereal. It was nearly two in the afternoon and if she continued at this rate, she’d be a mess of skin and bones. I was supposed to be out with Malcolm but felt as if I should stay back. Something was deep-rooted in my gut that I needed to be home with Y/N today.

My knuckles raised to the wood of her door, ready to knock, but stopped when I heard that song play yet again. Y/N’s had it on repeat every day for the last three days, nothing else coming from her room besides Keaton’s voice.

Fuck, why did she have to torture herself like this?

I sighed, knowing this was going to be a whirlwind, and pressed my ear to the door. Her soft, broken, voice singing. Suddenly the music stopped for a few seconds before Y/N replayed it and got louder.

Who was she talking to?

“How can you say this was all part of your plan, start explaining?”

“I knew you wanted me to meet him! I fucking knew it! Well guess what, Keaton?! I did; I fucking did, and now look! Look what happened!”

Keaton.

I ran a hand over my buzzed head and quickly typed out a message to Malcolm, who was out shopping. Since the ban had been lifted a few days ago, we were planning a small vacation just the two of us in a few weeks and he was buying things we needed.

Well, as long as Y/N was in the right headspace, we would leave her. But with what I was hearing on the other side of the door, I was afraid our vacation would have to get pushed back.

She’s blasting Eiley again. But now she’s talking to Keaton, blaming him for her meeting Noah. I don’t know what else to do, Mal.

What sounded like something falling over and breaking made me press my hear against the door again.

“Left with this hole, six feet of dirt I can’t fill,” Y/N’s raw but powerful voice called out into the air.

My phone buzzed with a text from Malcolm.

We need to talk with Nick. There’s not much else we can do, babe.

I sighed, knowing he was right, and quickly sent a text to Nick to see if he was free sometime next week. I remember him saying in our Hollow Omens group chat he was flying back from Virgina on Friday to see everyone.

Of course, neither Noah nor Y/N would ever respond in the chat, not wanting to risk saying something to each other. Maybe if they did, she wouldn’t be talking to the ghost of her best friend.

“Oh god, it hurts,” she wailed and I could picture her clutching her chest. “Why did I do this? Why did you fucking leave us both like this?”

A loud thud had me taking a step away from the door, thinking she was about to come barreling through but realized she was throwing things against the door and walls of her bedroom.

“I’m no better than you! I fucking left him. He wanted me, all of me, and I fucking left!”

“Oh, sweets,” I let out a shaky breath, hands reaching for the doorknob.

“He was mine, he was mine!”

She was mine; she was mine!

I hesitated opening the door at what I heard. Did she? Did Y/N change the lyrics of the song so it was as if she was saying Noah was hers?

Something fell to the floor, glass shattering, and Y/N’s ear piercing screams dug the knife deeper into my heart and I slammed through the door, it slamming against the wall next to me. All the blood drained from my face at the scene in front of me; Y/N was curled up on the floor crying, a framed photo on the floor smashed to pieces. She was clutching a piece of glass in her hand, droplets of blood falling to the wood floor beneath her.

“Fuck, Y/N!” I cursed while sliding on my knee’s in front of her to snatch the piece of glass from her tight grip, slicing my fingers. “Oh, come on sweets, get up! Don’t-don’t do this.”

Fear of what would have happened if I went out with Malcolm dug their nails into me but I refused to acknowledge the pain. Not right now, I can think of the what if’s later. Righ now, Y/N needed me.

Hollow, sunken, and bloodshot eyes stared up at me through the tears that clouded her vision. “I ruined everything, I ruined everything! His face! You didn’t see it! You don’t know!”

Her ramblings had been the same for a month now, never changing.

“Sweets, hey, it’s okay.” I cupped her face. “You didn’t, you’ll figure this out! You’ll talk to him, he’s not gone for good, Y/N. He’s here, he’s here.”

It killed me holding her; she was in agony. She felt like she ended Noah for good. It was almost as if she confused her feelings of grief and heartbreak into two. Noah was alive, his flesh and blood was still awake, he was numbing but he was there. She needed to remember this; she needed to know the feelings she was suffering through had a chance to get better.

“He’ll never see me the same,” Y/N kicked the broken frame away from us but I could see what picture it held; Noah and her at the zoo while they waited for the wolves to come out of hiding.

Unbeknownst to them at the time, I smacked Bryan’s chest so he could take a few pictures of them.

“Just give it time, just give it time.” I said while holding her, rocking her back and forth.

A little kiss on her head. My sister, my friend.

MALCOLM

“Hey sugar baklava,” I knocked on the door frame to Y/N’s room.

She was sitting at the large bay window, sunshine brushing its bright rays across her pale face and dark floors. It's been a few days since Chase found her with the piece of glass in her hand and ever since then, we made it a rule that she had to keep her door open. We didn’t care if she continued to hide away up here but the door needed to be open. It might have been a teenager rule, but we didn’t want to take any chances. We already knew she was hiding things from us so this was the only way.

“Where’s your head at?” I leaned up against the wall while crossing my arms over my chest.

Y/N chuckled at the nickname but I could see there was no light behind those usual bright eyes. She’d been sitting in that same spot for the last day and a half; hair not washed since I can’t remember when, clothes piled up, notebooks out with a variety of lyrics scribbled on every pages and her laptop always had a full charge due to the plug remaining inside it.

Through the pain, she smiled up at me. “Just the usual, contemplating my fucked life and all its wonders.”

I inhaled deeply while stiffing up straight. “I know what you’re going to say, but you are more than welcome to hang out with us at Applebees later. They have dollarRitas.”

“Thank you, maybe,” she smiled weakly.

“I’m worried about you.” I sighed with concern. “We all are.”

Salem clawed his way out from underneath her bed to stretch wide in the one spot on the floor the sun touched. If it wasn’t for that furry little creature that hated my guts, I don’t want to think of where Y/N would be right now.

“I’ll be fine,” she reassured while holding up a granola bar. “Bring me back some tacos?”

“Deal,” I smiled.

Turning my back to leave, her voice called after me. “Mind feeding Salem on your way out?”

My eyes cast down to my feet as the black cat sat between them, dark green eyes staring deep into my soul.

“Fuck, Y/N. Your cat wants to kill me,” I shivered at the thought.

She chuckled. “As long as you feed him, you’ll live!”

MALCOLM

The noise of the city faded to a dull buzz as I set down my second empty margarita class and pushed away the rest of my lunch. We were sitting on the patio at Applebee’s, the warm Los Angeles air doing nothing to ease the shake in my bones.

“How’s she doing?”

I nodded towards Nick who sat across from Chase and I. “Depends on the day you ask. But after the other day, we’re watching her like a hawk.”

He raised a brow. “What happened?”

Chase and I shared a look before eventually telling Nick about catching her with a piece of glass in her hand.

“You don’t think-?”

“I don’t know what to think, man,” Chase took a long drink of his beer. “I catch her breaking shit then holding a piece of glass in her hand so tight she cuts herself? Thankfully, she didn’t need stitches but if I wasn’t home, who knows what could have happened. She’s playing with her health and I don’t know what to do to help her.”

“What do you mean?” Nick wondered.

I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. “She hasn’t been taking her medication. There’s at least six more pills than there should be. And two extra vials.”

“What about Noah?” Chase asked, suddenly not wanting to change the subject.

He adjusted the sunglasses that was perched on his nose. “His drinking is getting worse. We want to be stoked because he’s written two really great songs but the alcohol dulls the excitement.”

Chase spun the ice in his drink with the straw and sighed. “Y/N has Eiley on blast until 2 am, hunched over in pain and screaming into her pillows. Writing at random. It’s killing me, to watch her like this.”

“Noah’s been playing Sympathy a lot too, while downing the bottle of whiskey and writing. A fuckin mess, man,” Nick leaned back into the chair.

“Can I tell you something?” Chase asked.

“Shoot,” Nick nodded.

“If fucking hurts to hear this but sometimes, when she plays Eiley, so faintly I can hear her singing. There’s a part in the song where Keaton’s broken as he says she was mine-fuck- I hear Y/N sometimes crying and changes the words-.”

Chase paused, trying to find the right was to convey what he was feeling and Nick tilted his head in wonder.

“He’s mine, he was mine. He was mine,” I finished for Chase, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get the words out.

“She regrets it all, Nick.” Chase rested his arms on the table so he could look directly at Nick. “I think-no I know, she loves him. Y/N fell for him so hard, and I don’t think she’ll ever forgive herself for leaving that room.”

“I know,” he sighed. “That’s why I’m on her side for this as well. You told me what she’s going through, it makes sense why she freaked out the way she did.”

I shifted in my seat. “Did you tell Noah?”

“No,” Nick firmly shook his head. “That's something you two or Y/N has to tell him.”

Chase reached for my hand under the table and once our fingers were linked, I gave Nick my best stern gaze. “We have to do something.”

For a long few beats, we were silent, thinking of ways that we could help these two talk again. They weren’t going to do it on their own; the needed help.

“We’ll shoot them both a text,” Nick began. “Same time, telling them to get their heads out of their asses, because let’s be real- they’re stubborn as hell and won’t listen to us directly. They need an outsider to call them both out to wake the hell up.”

“So what? I text Noah while you text Y/N?” Chase wondered.

Nick nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. They need help, they both do, desperately and they need each other. They’re just being ridiculous about it.”

There was a clear hesitation in my expression with Nick's idea. “You know it’s not gonna magically happen over night though right?”

“Of course not, but I have a hunch it’ll work,” Nick assured while throwing some money on the table for his lunch.

“What we need to do is get them to seek help. They have soon many unresolved issues, deep-seeded. They need to get help and get them to at least be friends again. They’re in love with each other. That won’t change, but the circumstances have to.”

READER

The pillows muffled my screams as I clutched my abdomen, the stabbing, sheering pain spreading through my veins like wildfire. Every fiber of my existence was screaming at me to stop the pain, make it all go away, but I ignored it. I needed to feel this; it was the only thing that made me feel anything at all.

Eiley played on a loop through my speakers as I spoke into the air above me.

“Choose me over him, I often wonder why.”

“How can I face him again, Keaton? How? How can I ease the pain, he’s mine. He was mine.”

Rolling over to my other side once the pain stopped for a few moments, I started at the basket on top of my nightstand. 1, 2, 3, 4, bottles, and one syringe. They just stare at me. I counted each bottle, and that syringe repeatedly. A reminder of the work it takes to make myself normal. A reminder of what happens every month like fucking clockwork. A reminder that no man would ever want to stay with me and deal with this alongside me.

“Noah would,” I muttered into the pillow that was stained with my tears.

Yeah? Well you ruined that, sweetie.

I’ve had fans ask me, “how do I keep myself from losing myself entirely?” All I can tell them is that it can’t rain all the time. I hide the pain behind a smile and slip into a parallel universe.

I’m constantly making a series of small holes in a row, mistakes I made in my membrane between here and there until an opening exists. And who can resist an opening?

So do I take the meds? Or do I lay here and rot?

I’ll take them tomorrow. It’s already too late in the day, no need to take them.

It was the same thing I told myself every morning when I would wake up and stare at the medication. The same thing for the last month.

Maybe if I stopped taking them, I would go back to my natural state. I could succumb to the natural order of things, or maybe the pain would be so severe I’d be fine with dying.

Okay.

No. Stop. Stop that!

The voices continued to fight with each other as I dug my palms into my eyes, hoping his haunting face would leave; even for a few seconds.

Maybe I could wait for the dust to settle.

Eiley started playing yet again and I narrowed my eyes up towards the ceiling. “If this is all part of your plan, Keaton then start explaining because this is fucking bullshit. You wanted us together, well fucking give me a sign it’s worth it.”

I stared at those bottles and wondered why any of this mattered when my phone buzzed from underneath my pillow. Groaning, I had every intention of ignoring it, thinking it was the Hollow Omens group chat of Folio saying something he thought was funny; most of the time it was. But today, the pain was so debilitating that I wasn’t in the mood for jokes.

Nicholas: Hi.

I sucked in a breath, not expecting a solo text from him. I wanted to leave him on read because there was no reason for him to be texting me. What’s there to say? He's my friend, but Noah is his brother, why would he care about me at all? I hurt his friend.

But.

That one word weighed heavy on my mind as my shaking fingers typed out two letters back.

Hi

The bubbles popped up and stopped, then popped up again, before proceeding to another text.

I hope you’re alright, Y/N. and doing okay. I hear you moved in with the guys, a great idea and I’m glad you’re settled in.

That message I left on read only because I was hunched over my bed now, dry heaving saliva into the bowl that had a permanent spot next to my bed on the floor. The pain was becoming too much; like an animal with razor like claws were digging through my skin to be set free. My stomach was being ripped to shreds.

It wasn’t until almost an hour later once the pain and my screams of agony finally stopped that I had the courage to look at my phone; the text from Nick smacking me in my face.

Y/N, first I just wanna say this: it isn’t my business to step in or to make assumptions I know everything. I had a talk with Chase and Malcolm, and I understand to a degree what you’re feeling right now. I will admit, I was angry at you; you hurt my friend. Noah isn’t doing well right now, but he’s trying. However, I’m trying to remain mutual about this. I see what you both have; I see what you’re both capable of even if you don’t right now. He needs something; he needs someone stable in his life who can give him the comfort he’s been searching for; I thought that could be you; you acted as if it was. Maybe it still is?

Ten minutes in between this text and the next one.

I would never step in and say something like this to anyone, but because of our current friendship and the situation that’s in front of us, I had to. Because I care about you both. Noah deserves better than what you did; he deserves better than walking out with more questions than answers. But you deserve better than the trauma Trey left you with. My friend’s not perfect but he’s not that fucking guy. All I ask is that you dig deep and see that you can really work through this. Not just alone but together. Don’t be a stranger, Y/N. Please don’t. We miss you.

My eyes blinked a few times at the screen, wondering if what I just read actually was there. Everything Nick said was one hundred percent the truth. Especially the part where Noah deserves better than what I did. But so did I. I also deserved better than what Trey left me with.

I gazed back up towards the ceiling, a small smile pulling at the corners of my lips. “Thanks, Keaton.”

READER

When I was supposed to be awake, I was asleep. When I was supposed to sleep, I was silent. When a pleasure offered itself to me, I avoided it. I wrote that fucking song repeatedly, a better perspective- a perspective of what I wanted to do that night.

I’ll face my fear of the cold nights

When you leave me behind

I felt your hands in my hair

I felt your breath on my neck

Yeah, I need to feel you again

Just wanted to say good night

Our eyes fighting the light

But I’m not ready to say good night oh

I try and hold on tight ‘cause it’s just not time to say good night

To say good night

One song completed last week and another one just needing the finishing touches. It was all falling into place; well, most things. All I wanted was for Noah to call me when he woke up. I wanted to be in his sweet dreams. But almost three days after Nick texted me, my phone remained silent. Nothing, no texts or calls from Noah. Which at the moment was fine because currently, Malcolm and Chase stood at the foot of my bed with their arms crossed over their broad chests, eyes staring daggers into me.

“The syringe?” Chase asked.

I nodded. “This morning.”

“Pills?” Malcolm then questioned.

Playfully rolling my eyes, I filled my palm with the variety of differnt pills and tossed them into my mouth, swallowing them down with the orange juice they’d brought up minutes ago. I even opened my mouth wide to show them I wasn’t hiding them under my tongue.

Malcolm physically relaxed but Chase wasn’t convinced quite yet.

“Did you call?”

I groaned. “Yes, dad. I have an appointment on Tuesday at ten in the morning. Did you want to drive me there too?”

“You bet your ass I am,” he narrowed his eyes before breaking out into a huge smile. “I’m proud of you, sweets.”

“Me too, buttercup,” Malcolm ruffled my hair.

I playfully smacked his hand away before motioning towards the open door of my room. “Feel free to close it on your way out.”

Salem meowed from his perched on the open window and I realized it was nearing five in the evening. “Oh, dinner time.”

I went to stand from the bed but Malcolm playfully pushed me back down.

“I got it. Let’s go, Salem,” he tapped his thigh a few times, my cat quickly following out of the room.

Chase watched with amazement in his eyes as I let out a lighthearted laugh, one that he hadn’t heard in so long, no doubt.

“What?” I asked, grabbing my phone that buzzed on my bed.

He shrugged before walking out. “Nothing, it’s good to hear that laugh again.”

Smiling, I looked down at my phone but nearly dropped it as I read the message over and over again. Chase noticed my face right before he stepped through the doorway and motioned towards my phone.

“Who is it?”

Mochi 🧋🥟: Hi.

My heart hammered against my chest and it felt like I couldn’t breathe, the butterflies in my stomach fluttering wildly with life I thought would never return.

“Shit, shit.” I muttered while showing Chase the message.

“Well fucking answer him, Y/N.”

“I- what do I say?” I asked as my breathing became erratic.

Fuck, it was like I was a teenager texting her crush for the first time.

“Start with a simple hello. Today’s the first day of you getting your life back in order.” Chase left a kiss to the top of my head before leaving me alone to my own choices.

I stared down at the phone, thumbs hovering over the screen, wondering what the fuck I was going to do.

Do I take Chase’s advice and get my life back in order? Or do I remember all the pain and agony, dark nights where I contemplated ending it all?

[fotibrit]

Was Peter ever told who Harley is, or is the first time they met at Tony's funeral? Did Peter have any idea about all that happened before, the events leading to Tony meeting Harley? i just want to know how the hell Harley ended up at the funeral, did Tony let him know beforehand? Did Tony send him a letter, "Hey kid, I'll probably die soon, feel free to pull up to my funeral". Did Pepper know and invite him? Did Peter know, and were they friends before?

Need a full movie about how the friendship between Tony and Harley played out. How did it happen. How did they stay in contact

[jamie-leah]

Lifeline Pt 3

Bucky x Reader

Series

Summary: You have a past that you're running from and maybe Bucky can be the lifeline you had no idea you were searching for.

Word Count: 2,037

Warnings: Descriptions of domestic abuse, mentions of death and suicide

A/N: Sorry I missed last weekend, I had a funeral to attend but here is a slightly longer part for you. I'm keeping a tag list so let me know if you want in. Requests are also open if you would like to send one in. Enjoy!

<-Previous Part Next Part->

Masterlist of Masterlists

After that day, Bucky spends more time at your apartment. In fact, he spends more time with you in general. He comes to the diner more often and any day you both have free you spend it together. You’ve kicked his ass at all the video games you have, he’s shown you all his favourite spots in New York, including a hole in the wall book shop that you stayed at for hours.  

You were at this very book shop with Bucky when he says, “so, every month at the tower we all try to stick to this family dinner thing.”  

This piques your interest. Bucky doesn’t talk about the others very often. Almost like he doesn’t want to mix you up with his drama. Like he wants to keep you away from the danger of his work. You’ve never pushed him, even though you love the stories he tells of him and Steve back in the 40s. Or the pranks he and Sam play on each other every so often.  

You never push him to talk about things he doesn’t want to because you know you have so much you can’t talk about either.  

You nod to Bucky to show that you’re listening to him, “well, there’s a family dinner tomorrow night and my therapist thinks it would be a good idea to invite you...not that I don’t want you to be there or didn’t want to ask you myself. I want you with me all the time, but I didn’t want to subject you to the chaos of everyone or Tony Stark or Natasha or Sam. Actually, you know what? Forget I said anything, this was stupid-”  

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of your throat, “Bucky, I’d love to go with you.”  

Bucky spins around fast, dropping the book he was holding, “you would?”  

You chuckle, picking up the book and handing it back to the idiot in front of you, “they’re your family. Plus, it would be nice to have dinner at yours for a change.”  

Bucky breaks out into a grin, grabbing you in a bear hug and twirling you around. When he sets you down, he says, “look, I have to go but I’ll pick you up around 7?”  

You nod as he races out the door to get to his therapy appointment on time, laughing as he practically skips out the door like a little kid.  

Tomorrow comes around faster than you would have liked. You feel like you’ve had no time to prepare for this dinner. You’re meeting Bucky’s family; it feels so important, and you don’t want to mess anything up.  

You still haven’t heard anything from Andrew which is a miracle and if it keeps going like this you might get to build a life here. A life that you hope involves Bucky for a long time to come. But it won’t if you mess this up tonight.  

Staring into the mirror you can see the bags under your eyes from another sleepless night. The nightmares now involving Bucky and being ripped away from this life that you’re starting to love. It always wakes you up feeling breathless and hopeless because there’s a part of you that knows Andrew will come one day and you’ll just have to leave.  

Are you being cruel? To you and to Bucky? Making you both feel so deeply for each other when you know at any moment it could fall like a house of cards? And what exactly do you feel for the man? You swore to yourself that would never get involved romantically again but with Bucky do you have a choice? Can you just be friends with someone that feels like your other half?  

Just then you hear a knock at the door, distracting you from your thoughts. You rush to the door thinking it’s Bucky coming to pick you up but when you open up your smile fades.  

A delivery man is holding a bunch of red roses, thrusting them into your hand as soon as he sees you. Your blood runs cold. You stand, staring at the flowers like they may bite you at any moment.  

When you tear your gaze away from them the delivery man is nearly at the elevator already, “hey! Wait, I didn’t see a card with them?”  

He always leaves a card. This can’t be him because he always leaves a card. The delivery man shrugs, “the guy didn’t want a card.”  

You hear the elevator ding like background noise. Your whole world comes back to the roses in your hand. Andrew picks a different flower every time so there’s no way to know and the delivery man said it was a guy that ordered the flowers. He knows. Andrew knows.  

You drop the flowers like they burn you and race into the apartment. Fight or flight kicks in and you know the dance by now. Heading straight to your room at the back of the closet is your go back. Savings you’ve put away from your job, a couple of old family photos and a passport.  

You promised yourself that if New York did not work, you would try a different country altogether, hoping he would never go that far just to teach you a lesson.  

You reach the open plan kitchen just as Bucky runs through the door looking frantic. His eyes land on you but you don’t have time to stop as you throw more supplies into your go bag.  

Bucky says, “I saw the door open and the flowers on the floor, I thought...I thought-Are you leaving?” 

You turn to look at him when you sense the feeling of betrayal behind his words. Words get caught in your throat, so you don’t say anything. You were barely holding it together before Bucky got here, but now it seems almost impossible to go with him watching. Almost.  

“I know you may not like the flowers, but this is a little extreme, right?” He goes for humour but even you can tell its strained.  

And then his meaning penetrates the fog in your brain, “you? You got the flowers?”  

Bucky shrugs, “they were supposed to arrive yesterday after you said you’d come to family dinner, but I ordered them too late, so I was hoping to beat them here and give them to you myself but well...” 

He trails off and your shoulders sag. Bucky got the flowers. The flowers were from Bucky. The go bag slips from your grip, hitting the floor with a thud, drawing Bucky’s attention once again.  

“Why? Who did you think they were from?”  

You don’t answer. How can you? The answer is so much more complicated than just a name and yet at the same time it isn’t.  

A lump forms in your throat. You want to tell him. You want so much to let someone else carry this burden with you but every time you told someone your story, they either sided with the monster or ended up dead because of him. Because of you. And you would walk away before you saw anything happen to the man standing in front of you.  

Bucky shakes his head. Walking over to pick up the flowers, he lays them on the kitchen table, “I can’t do this. I can’t be here if it means that you might leave at any moment. I’ve been left behind before and I barely made it out alive. I can’t go through that again.”  

And your heart aches. It aches so much that you don’t know how you remain standing as you watch the only person that’s ever made you feel safe start to walk out the door.  

If you were less selfish, you would let Bucky walk out that door and never come back. You would leave him behind and leave New York. You would be miserable just to keep him safe. But you can’t. And you don’t.  

“The first time he hit me, it was our honeymoon.”  

Bucky stops dead. He doesn’t turn around, but you take it as your cue to keep talking, “this guy at a bar flirted with me. He gave me his best pick up line, I laughed and told him I was flattered but I was married, and the guy left me alone. Andrew, my husband, saw and challenged me on it in our hotel room. 

I laughed and told him to stop being silly and that I had seen him flirt with other women before too. It was the first and last time he hit me with an open palm. I made excuses for him. I didn’t want to admit that I cut all my friends and family off for a monster. He was all I had left. But after a few years, when he was dishonourably discharged from the Army, I spoke to his closest friend, Tommy. Tommy was a good man. I showed him the bruises and he believed me. After all these years, he was the only person to believe me.  

Tommy had sensed a change in Andrew, he became less bothered about hiding his temper when the Army chewed him up and spat him out. Tommy confronted him. A week later, Tommy went missing. Three months after that his body was found in the woods. Suicide they said.”  

Bucky finally turns to face you, his eyes swimming with anger and pain so much like your own that you have to look away. You stare at your hands instead, “after Tommy was gone, Andrew got worse. I was going to the hospital at least once a month and everyone believed all the lies. It got so bad that I once went to the police. They called Andrew and he told them that I wasn’t doing very well, and they believed him. After that incident I ended up in the hospital for six weeks. He told them I fell from the roof.”  

Bucky lets out a string of curse words that have you smiling despite the circumstances, “How did you get away?” 

“I got a job. In secret of course. I arranged it so I would only work when he did, and I worked in the next town over. I saved and saved and saved. And then one night I put sleeping pills in with his food. Once I was sure he was asleep, I took the car and left in the middle of the night. I ditched it the next morning and walked to a bus station.”  

“But he still finds you?” Bucky asks.  

You nod, “I haven’t been able to stay in a place longer than two months before he sends flowers and a card to wherever I’m staying at the time. It’s almost like he’s enjoying playing cat and mouse. He’s letting the game go on because I know the moment he catches me this time, I’ll be dead.”  

Bucky takes a step towards you, “no. I’m not going to let that happen.”  

“Tommy said the same thing.”  

“Yeah, well, Tommy wasn’t a super soldier.”  

“But he was a soldier.”  

Bucky shakes his head, “it's been longer than two months. Maybe he’s given up. Found someone else or got what’s coming to him from someone else.”  

“Maybe”, you whisper.  

Bucky closes the distance between you, pulling you into the warmth of his body, holding you like it's a miracle you’re still standing, “you can’t keep running. I won’t let you. Why should you have to run because that waste of oxygen can’t keep his hands to himself?”  

You don’t have an answer, so you just cling to him tighter. Bucky pulls back to look down at you, “promise me, you’ll come to me first. Come to me before you run.”  

You shake your head, “that’s just your way of asking me to stay.”  

“So, what if it is? I deal with bad people and monsters all the time. Let me help you with yours? Come to me first, please?”  

And despite your better judgement, despite all the promises you made to yourself, you tell Bucky yes. You tell him that you’ll stay. You just hope you’re not sealing both of your fates because of it.  

Tags: @ordelixx @cjand10 @identity2212 @sukaibg

[tonberry-yoda]

I'm not sure if you do requests like this, feel free to ignore- but SDC with a female reader. She hugs them so excitingly that she pushes there face into her gahamaloohs? B00bs

omg this is so flippin funny lmaooooo. these are short little headcanons, so i hope you like them lol. have a great day anon!! <333 and thank you so much for the request!!

Stardust Crusaders with a f!reader who hugs them into her chest

Pairing - Noriaki Kakyoin x f!reader, Jotaro Kujo x f!reader, Jean Pierre Polnareff x f!reader, Avdol x f!reader, Old Joseph x f!reader

Warnings - small mention of blood in jotaro's. joseph being a slight perv lmao

Notes - omg thank you so much for the jojos request, i have been dying to write for the show. i have another one on the way too! this was such a good request and i just had a super fun time writing it lol. thank you anon! i hope you have a great day, lovely!! <333

And don’t forget, REQUESTS ARE OPEN! So if you want to request any writing, please don’t hesitate to ask, but please read my pinned post before requesting! Please enjoy!! Don’t forget to stay hydrated! <3

Noriaki Kakyoin

omg, we all know that this man is after moms, THEREFORE, bazongas are his thing

"Kakyoin! You're back!!!" You shove past the rest of the crusaders and pull Kakyoin into your arms. Little did you know, his face was pressed right to your chest, his nose in between your- "Are you feeling better, Noriaki?" You pulled back and looked at his eyes, which weren't blinded, only scratched.

He'd be thinking about that all day

He'd be thinking about how great it would be to cuddle you and be pressed to your chest like that again

If you've ever done that before, or ever do it again, his face would go cherry red, but he wouldn't say a word. He would just be enjoying himself the whole time

He is much taller than you, so it is rare that this ever happens, but he hopes for the day you can get to that level to pull him down again

Jotaro Kujo

use this to shut him up

he will go dead silent

not a word

"Jotaro!" You run up to him, limping from your previous battle. "Oh, shit! Are you alright?" Jotaro runs up to you as you fall into his lap, blood falling from your leg. "I-I'm fine." You flinch as Jotaro lifts up the leg of your pants, seeing the poor job you did on wrapping yourself up. "You idiot! You can't just wrap it up yourself, get someone to help next time. God, you're so stu-" You quickly pull him towards your chest for a hug, playing with the back of his hair. His face right in between your boobs.

You had never heard him get that quiet before

You would pull away with a smile and a "thank god you're alright, Jojo, I thought you were dead back there"

And still nothing

The tops of his cheeks and the tips of his nose and ears would be dusted red

He would clear his throat, standing up, lighting a cigarette

"yare yare daze"

Jean Pierre Polnareff

this man would melt

lets be real, even a regular hug would kill this adorable little frenchman

but when your knockers are in this man's face??? you killed him

someone start planning the funeral

when you let go, he would fall backwards, blood falling from his nose

what a silly little cutie

"Guys, you're being so mean!" You pushed past Joseph and Avdol, walking up to Polnareff. "How would you like it if you had to lick a toilet?! Huh?!" You turned towards Polnareff and pulled him straight towards your chest for a hug. You play with the top of his hair and earrings and you feel him go immediately limp

You swore to god you killed him

You look over at him as he falls to the floor, a smile on his face and blood running down his nose

"Polnareff? Are you alright?" He would just shoot you a thumbs up

Whatever happened with the toilet incident, he doesn't remember

Avdol

this man is so shy

omg what a sweetheart

but he would definitely be vocal about it

You pull Avdol into your arms. You really thought he died. "It's so good to see you, Avdol." You had no clue, but the man was crushed to your chest. He cleared his throat, and through a muffled voice, said, "It's good to see you too... but... uhm... I am pressed too close you your..." You look down and see where he is pressed and gasp, pushing him away. "Sorry Avdol! I didn't know!" He smiled and rubs the back of his neck before pulling you into a proper hug. "Nothing to worry about."

He would love every second though

I think he's a sucker for anything squishy on a lady, so to get those few moments of bliss, he is truly a blessed man

Old Joseph

if he was a ladies man in his prime, you better bet not one part about him has changed

he would make some stupid joke and you'd pull away, completely unamused

"Joseph!" You giggled and jumped into his big arms, pulling him into a hug. It felt like it had been forever since you'd seen him. Joseph smirked once he noticed that he was pressed into your chest and with his voice muffled, he'd say, "I know it had been a while, but I wasn't expecting this as a surprise." You immediately jumped down and slapped his arm. "Not cool, old man." And you just walked away.

He would just love hugs though. He didn't mean to ruin the vibe. But he had to. The old fart.

[munsonsreputation]

Soon You'll Get Better

Chapter Three: Neon Kitchen, Bright Sky

↢ chapter two | series masterlist | chapter four ↣

summary: Max can never seem to catch a break and things are no different when Billy's dad comes back into the picture. When everything takes a sudden turn and the one person who was supposed to have her back fails her, you and Steve don't hesitate to step in.

word count: [16.7k]

: ̗̀➛ pairings: big-brother!steve x max & big-sister!reader x max

: ̗̀➛ romantic pairing: steve harrington x fem-college-student!reader

: ̗̀➛ warnings: angst, physical altercation, mentions of slapping, cursing, billy's abusive dad, mentions of death (billy), bruises, and mentions of absent parents (max & steve)

“Get the fuck out!”

Her shouts echoed against the walls of the trailer, resounding off the metal as she pointed at the door and stood face to face with the man she didn’t want to see. He snarled at her, face practically red as he turned to her mother who stood off to the side, not daring to get in between them like she should’ve been doing in the first place.

“Are you going to let her speak to me that way?” He asked ridiculously knowing that she didn’t have a backbone, and when it came to him, she would ultimately betray her own daughter.

The thumb she had been biting down on dropped from her mouth, shaking her head vigorously. She turned to her daughter and looked at her with wide, pleading eyes.

“Maxine, he’s staying. End of discussion.”

Max rolled her eyes, glaring just as harshly at her mother for this bullshit that she was putting her through. The last thing she needed was to see her former stepfather right before her eyes, claiming he was back in their lives all of the sudden. The same one who abandoned her and her mother after Billy died and couldn’t even be man enough to stay for his funeral.

What possessed her mother to think that Max was ever going to let this slide was beyond comprehensible. Maybe it was some sort of mid-life crisis she was going through or desperation, but over her dead body would she allow this man to live under the same roof as her and her mother after everything that had happened in the past.

Max clenched her fists to her sides, reminding herself that she wasn’t going to get physical no matter how angry she was. The most important thing that she needed to do was try to stay somewhat composed and get it through her mother’s head that this wasn’t going to happen.

“No, he isn’t! Did you forget everything he put us through? What about what he did to Billy? All those years of abuse and you’re letting him back in!” She protested, unclenching one of her hands to point brutally at the man who towered over her.

Her mother wasn’t a stranger to the abuse Billy’s father had inflicted on his son. Verbally, physically, and psychologically — he was horrible to him, the same way that Billy had continued the cycle and was horrible to Max.

She looked down guiltily, shaking her head as if she was trying to believe her own lie, “He—He’s changed Max…you don’t know how hard it was for him to lose his son—”

“And I lost my brother! I watched him die with my own eyes, so what about me?”

Max didn’t mean to get emotional so quickly, but it felt like this was all something that was building up from last week’s events that were just as heavy as this. Even more so, she wished she had spent the night at you and Steve’s apartment, taking you both up on that movie night you had suggested, but instead she picked to stay home for once and try to spend more time with her mom.

Just for the night to turn into this bullshit.

Billy’s dad swatted at her pointed hand, slamming it back down to her side where she clenched her fist, wondering if this was a free pass for her to plant it towards his jaw — but she stayed calm, ignoring the stinging feeling on her skin.

“You’re the child and we’re the adults, you obey us!” He roared, causing Max to flinch slightly, yet she knew this game he was playing.

Threatening — the same thing he used to do to Billy.

But if there was one thing she learned from her late brother, it was that sometimes the best thing to do was strike back…with words of course. Because while his father usually always started it, Billy was the one to finish it.

“You’re not my fucking father and I don’t have to obey shit you say.”

She didn’t mean to look so smug after she said that. Max was actually supposed to be putting on that signature glare, but she couldn’t help it. Watching the sorry excuse of a man’s face drop before her and the vein in his neck nearly about to combust over the harsh truth she had spat right at him.

SLAP!

But the palm that connected with her cheek surely replaced the smugness with shock. Tears instantly pricking at her eyes as her hands clutched at the skin that prickled with a hundred nerves burning beneath the surface.

Her mother gasped, but not daring to scold the man for his actions, too frightened to do so. Instead, trying to grab at Max’s wrists to pull them away from her cheek in order to assess the damage that had been done, but that wasn’t what Max wanted of her.

She wanted her mother to scream.

To yell.

Fight back.

Tell him to get the fuck out of her home.

Call the cops.

Put him in jail.

Then hold her in her arms and apologize.

But she didn’t.

Max nudged her mother’s hands away, blinking wildly, and the tears rolled down her skin.

“It’s me or him.”

The ultimatum she laid before her mother should’ve been an easy one to answer. Obviously her blood, the girl she had given birth to and raised all by herself seemingly fine before she met Billy’s dad.

But the only thing in the eerily quiet trailer was now silence.

She could see her mother’s hesitation through the blur of salty puddles in her eyes. The eyes that darted between her daughter and her ex-husband’s, as if he was worth more than her even after she was the one that had stuck by her mother’s side and held her up even when she couldn’t even keep herself together.

All of this for a man.

Max swallowed the lump in her throat, disappointingly shaking her head as she brushed past her mom, heading down the narrow hallway to her bedroom, slamming and locking the door shut. There was no way in hell she was going to spend the rest of the night or the upcoming days with him in her presence.

She wasn’t going to before and she sure wasn’t going to now after he had just put his hands on her. Easily, she could’ve reached for the phone that laid on her bedside table, dialing El and asking for her father to come down to the trailer park to arrest the son of a bitch, but the first thing on her mind was getting out.

And she knew where she was going.

Stuffing a drawer full of clothes into her duffle bag, it was enough to last her a few days before she would need to borrow some, but it would do for the meantime. The excess space was filled with her childhood stuffed animal: Bubbles the Dino and the rest of her tapes and Walkman that would get her through.

She zipped up the oversized jacket that once belonged to Billy, pulling the hood over her head, hoping this was enough to keep her warm for the journey. She walked out of her bedroom back into the living room where he was still berating her mother as she sat on the couch with her head in her hands not knowing what to say or do.

Max didn’t pay them any mind, heading straight to the front door so she could make her exit before anyone tried to stop her. The creaking of the hinges prompted their attention, but she was already down the front porch steps before they could move.

“Maxine, you’re not going anywhere!” Her mom hollered, frozen in the doorway with the man right behind her.

Max rolled her eyes once more, hands tightening on her bike handles as she turned her head and looked towards the one person who was supposed to choose her all the time.

“You can both go to hell.”

With that, she ascended on the night, leaving everything that she thought was supposed to be her home behind her. The tears she had been holding back to avoid humiliation now falling out of her orbs and rolling against her cheeks. Her feet pedaled faster as each second went by, hoping to get to her destination before it was too late.

Your body twitched at the sound of knocking, eyes slowly blinking to unblur them from the sleep that overcame you suddenly. The movie that you and Steve abandoned still playing through the television while your boyfriend slept soundly beside you with Ollie cuddled to his chest.

“Steve,” you yawned, stretching your arms out and nudging his shin with your foot.

He moved slightly at the contact, groaning out without opening his eyes. Another set of knocks sounded through the front door and this time you were sure it wasn’t the movie playing tricks. Your heart raced instantaneously, not knowing what was real or not.

“Steve, someone’s at the door.” You hissed sharply, letting your arms fall to his chest where you shook him firmly.

His face scrunched up, one eye opening to see you hovering above him looking back at the door, “Baby, it’s just the movie—”

Another set of knocks followed, this time accompanied by a small voice just loud enough to pierce through the wood of the door.

“Are you guys awake?”

Neither you nor Steve could mistake her voice. Instantly worried, you didn’t hesitate to jump up from the couch, startling Ollie who jolted up from his slumber and raced towards the front door where you were already unlocking the latch.

Steve threw off the blankets, blindly shutting off the tv and slapped on the light switch, brightening up the living room with the yellow fluorescence.

You pulled the door open, Steve right beside you as you both were greeted by the anxiety inducing sight of Max all cried out with her bags weighing her shoulders down.

Her cheeks were a bright crimson, which you would assume was from the cold of the night, however her bloodshot eyes told a different story that it was a combination of the weather and crying. Her lips looked frostbitten, almost chapped as the soft teetering of her teeth rang in the wind.

“Hey, it’s okay…get in, c’mon.” Steve ushered, reaching out and grabbing her wrist gently as you opened the door wider and wrapped your arms across her shoulders where you could feel her shivering.

She instantly dropped her bags, letting them rest on the floors as she collapsed onto the couch. Her elbows going to rest on her knees as she covering her face with her hands.

You were next to her in an instant with Steve reaching over to grab the stray blanket, draping it over her body as he sat on the other side. His hands squeezed her shoulders over the thick fleece in order to try to warm her up quickly, hoping she wouldn’t catch a cold.

You caught his eyes, quietly voicing your concern, as he nodded swiftly and looked back down at her. Soft sniffles coming from behind her hands where she was trying to hide it.

Not that Max ever liked crying in front of both of you, but she never tried to conceal it like she had been doing now. It all seemed so odd and out of character for her as she knew you and Steve would always be all ears in a heartbeat and listen to whatever she had to say, but not tonight.

“Max, honey, tell us what’s going on.”

Your voice was on the verge of pleading, not knowing how much longer you go could without knowing what had her this upset that she had to bike all the way here.

“J—just some stuff a-at home.” Her voice gave way.

Stuff at home could mean many things and you both knew that Max and her mother weren’t necessarily on the same page considering how their relationship had faltered with her mom prioritizing work more than raising her daughter.

Steve gulped, rubbing his hands over her shoulders warmly. “You can talk to us, bug. Could’ve called, and I would have come over and gotten you… it’s dark out and—”

She pulled her hands away from her face, swiping her fingers along her cheeks harshly before looking up at the two of you and nodding, understanding your concerns.

“Billy’s dad was over… he came back.” She said dryly, moving her eyes to her lap not knowing how you both would receive it after so long with him gone.

The silence was telling. Clearly the two of you were shocked seeing as though Billy’s dad, Neil, left before his son’s funeral procession, leaving it all up to Max’s mom who was devastated and had to deal with two losses she wasn’t anticipating.

“H-he’s back?” You stuttered, swallowing back your distaste as you kept your focus on the girl.

“He showed up while I was at arcade and my mom let him in and n-now she’s saying that he’s gonna stay with us and I—I just…I couldn’t….I w-won’t.”

And like that, her chest rose nimbly, tears beginning to well in her eyes once again before she could even try to piece together her broken words that already told a story of their own. Hunching over, her face found solace behind her hands again and the cries rattled the walls of the apartment and broke the hearts in your chests.

Steve leaned closer, guiding her into him as support. “Bug, take a deep breath…in and out, you got it. Everything’s alright, we’re right here.”

His hand rubbed her back gently as you cooed more words of comfort. The two of you working together to try to ground her and make her feel as safe as possible. Neither of you took it personally when her cries didn’t die down and only got heavier, a kind of sadness that you knew she was feeling deeply and needed to feel instead of trying to fight back.

If your hearts were just broken by the scene of her so frantic, you couldn’t begin to imagine what she was feeling. Her breathing only got more ragged, struggling to catch it with her mind racing with the flashbacks.

Steve noticed the signs before Max could even fathom them, rising up from the spot next to her, he hurriedly charged towards the kitchen for a glass of cold water and a warm rag before he was back at her side in an instant.

“Shhh…s’okay, let’s get you a sip of water yeah?” His fingers wrapped gently around her wrists, bringing her hands away from her face, as he showed her the glass.

She sniffled roughly, nodding her head as she took the cup from him — the water that had been beading around the surface meeting her hot hands zapped her nerves, bringing her back as she gulped it down. The warm rag rested on the back of her neck calming her down a bit as the hiccuped cries began to shallow out while the seconds passed.

She had nothing to be afraid of when you two were here right beside her. You both had seen her at her worst and even then neither of you left her side. It was going to be no different now or ever, even when she was unsure of it all. She had you both and that was what mattered most to her.

You took the empty glass away, placing it on the coffee table, “You wanna talk about it some more? Or we can talk in the morning if you—”

“He hit me. J—just slapped me once, but still…”

She dropped it like glass, letting it shatter without trying to cushion its fall because there was no way of doing so. The truth was all she had left in her and the sting on her cheek was a biting reminder of what he did and most importantly what she didn’t deserve.

The room was quiet, only Max’s sporadic sniffles and the whirling of the ceiling fan above you filled the heart-stopping silence. So many things spun through your heads, questions that Steve wanted to ask, and answers that you desperately wanted, but all you could muster to say was—

“I’m sorry.” You exhaled at a loss for words, skeptically reaching for her hand as she nodded and slotted hers in yours giving you the permission.

She squeezed yours securely as if she was trying to reassure you, like you were the one who needed the strength as you sat there and broke internally, trying to stay strong when you knew you were moments away from breaking down but that wouldn’t be fair to her — not right now.

Steve pulled his brows together, confusion splaying his features despite the anger brewing inside of him.

“What did your mom do?”

He knew her mother wouldn’t let anything happen like this slide, sure she had taken the hits from Billy’s father herself and watched helplessly when Billy became the punching bag, but she couldn’t have just sat around and watched him do the same to Max.

“Nothing.” Max said quietly, nearly hushed as she did, too ashamed to say it out loud because that would mean that her mom became the enabler of the behavior she swore she’d never tolerate.

The silence was even louder then. More questions wanting to be asked, on the tips of your tongues just pleading to be babbled out, yet you both could tell that now wasn’t the time.

Max was clearly traumatized, put through something incredibly heartbreaking yet was sitting right before you as stoic as ever — not feeling anything inside because she’d been so numb to the feeling of sadness and disappointment for a while now.

You swallowed the lump in your throat to keep from crying though your voice still cracked.

“Y-you’ve had a night. Why don’t you take a hot shower and take our bed tonight? Ollie can cuddle with you, yeah? He’s missed you so much.”

“Please.” she said, nodding at you with a sullen face.

You nodded, standing up and reaching out for her, “C’mon, let’s get you some clean clothes.”

You wrapped your arms across her shoulders, guiding her along to your bedroom in hopes that a goodnight’s sleep would bring her a dream to forget about the real life nightmare.

Steve ran a rough hand up and down his face, sighing heavily as his chest ripped out a quiet sob not knowing how something like this could happen. He’d done everything to protect her to the best of his ability and the one place that should have been her safest, her home, was the place she had been hurt and the one where he wasn’t at to shield her from it.

He tore his hands away when he heard the bedroom door shut softly, followed by your hushed cries that made its way closer to him. He stood and wrapped you in his cages, letting you cry every angry and heartbroken tear you had out.

“H-How could she let that happen?” You tried to keep your sobs down, letting them die against his clothed chest to prevent Max from hearing it, but you couldn’t help but to feel so helpless and frustrated.

Steve could only hold you, cooing away your anguish and wiping the tears away because there was no answer he could give you. Everything in his soul wanted to tell you what he knew and give you all the answers in order to piece it all together, but there was nothing left to piece.

The harsh reality was that something terrible had happened to Max, and no one tried to stop it.

“Everything is gonna be okay,” He told you, holding your face in his hands as he thumbed away the remnants of tears. “She has us and we’re gonna stick by her side and try to make this better.”

It was the only thing in Steve’s soul that he knew right then to be true. You both were always going to be there for her and if it took months maybe even years to right this situation, then you’d both be there every step of the way, no doubt about it.

“I know.”

His lips pressed in a tight line, giving you a firm nod, making sure that you were alright before he spoke, “I gotta go for a little, okay?”

You stared at him confusingly, not knowing where he would be off to at this hour. “Where?”

“Clear my head.” He said it plainly eyes dead set on yours.

You read between the obvious lines, knowing exactly where he was going. There was no use in trying to stop him because you knew he had his mind set on the very thought of making sure things were done right by Max, no matter what it took.

He was her protector and in many ways he would do anything for her — even kill if he had to.

You grabbed at his hand, squeezing it in a stern yet tender manner, “Promise you won’t do anything stupid? Max needs you, you know that.”

To be quite honest, he feels that he needs her more than she does him. Steve didn’t know what he’d do with himself if Max had suffered worse tonight. The slap itself left a bitter taste in Steve’s mouth, but if Max had shown up battered and bruised, he’d be sure that a death wish would be granted tonight.

Despite his anger and the things that he could do to make him pay, there was a way to get it done, and he wanted it done the right way so that Max wouldn’t need to suffer more than she already did.

He cradled the back of your head, pulling you into a hug, nodding his head against the top of yours and placing a kiss there.

“I swear, just… just make sure she gets some sleep, and you, too. I’ll be back in a bit.”

You locked up as he gave you one last look through the screen door, mouthing, “I love you,” before you shut the wooden door and he was jogging down the steps towards the car park.

The second he slammed the door shut, the shouting began as instantly as the salty tears he’d been holding back poured from his eyes. This wasn’t about him and the last thing he wanted was for Max to hear and worry about his own wellbeing when she was supposed to put herself first.

“Son of a bitch!”

He cursed, beating his palms against the steering wheel, breathing hard as he cried, so heated and disheartened at the world because why did it have to be her?

Why couldn’t the universe give it to him?

He could take the anger, he could take the hits, he could take it all and deal with it if it meant that Max got to finally go a day or two without worrying when the next breakdown or anxiety attack was going to occur.

She had already gone through so much and she deserved for it to be over by now.

“She’s okay… she’s okay, c’mon Steven.” He roughly wiped at his face, sucking in deep breaths, talking himself through it.

He started the ignition, his foot pressed firmly on the pedal as he made his way to the trailer park, his mind echoing the faces of you and her — the people he needed to make it back home to safe and sound.

It was a scene, Hopper police car parked out front of the trailer with its driver’s door swung wide open and the vehicle still running, headlights flashing brightly. The neighbors who should have been asleep were wide awake, gathered outside their homes, and rightfully so when there was a ruckus going on.

“Where is he?” Steve demanded loudly.

He didn't even bother to take the keys out of the ignition, placing the car in park behind the police car and hopping out to get his hands on the suspect.

Across the Mayfield trailer lived Eddie and his uncle Wayne, the both of them taking notice of Steve’s presence, aware of how close he and Max were and how he must have known something that the entire park didn’t.

“Fucking shit…” The metal head cursed, throwing his cigarette the ground and calling out to his friend, “Harrington! C’mon man, let the chief handle it!”

Eddie's voice was nothing to him. Steve instead made a beeline for the front door of Max’s trailer, bursting through it, catching everyone off guard. Her mother looked as though she had seen a ghost, Billy’s dad was confused with the intrusion, and Hopper knew that something was about to go down from the death stare Steve was wearing.

The only thing Steve heard in his mind was the voice telling him to get him.

“You son of a bitch!”

Lurching across where Hopper stood, Steve threw a fist in the air over towards the disgrace that sitting on the couch acting holier than thou beside a mother who failed her child.

He hoped it connected, spreading pain across his jaw for payback, yet the arms of Hopper and his friend Eddie encase his effort, hauling him back with all their might.

“What the hell, kid? Are you out of your mind?!” Hop shouted.

The flimsy notepad and pen dropped to the ground, and he hastily grabbed ahold of the boy whose fist was millimeters away from connecting to Neil’s jaw.

“Steve, that’s enough! C’mon, relax!” Eddie attempted to deescalate the situation, knowing it wouldn’t do Max or you any good if Steve left there in handcuffs.

“Did you tell him, huh?” Steve spat, still struggling in the grips, glaring at the two on the couch.

Neil sat up, pointing a finger at him.

“Listen, I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but you better get—”

“He hit Max.” Steve declared, completely stopping the struggle and moving his eyes towards Hop who stared at him confused, tight grip loosening only so that he could move and look back at the man.

“That true?” He asked, raised brow taking in a sharp breath.

Neil scoffed, turning to look at her mother, who sat emotionless, neither confirming nor denying the accusation, but she was just as guilty as him.

“Chief, I have no idea who this boy is… we called because our daughter is missing.”

He tried to lie, looking over at her mom with the most sincere and worried look that would’ve been convincing had Steve not seen right through it.

The audacity that the man had to call Max his daughter when he was barely even a father to Billy? It only made Steve’s blood boil even hotter, the anger dissipating into something uglier that dared to do more than just sock the son of a bitch in the jaw, but to make sure he never saw another waking day.

“She’s not your daughter, and she isn’t missing. She showed up at my doorstep crying her eyes out after she biked miles to come and tell me and my girlfriend that you put your hands on her and you did nothing about it.”

His eyes skimmed from the man to the woman, who guiltily broke into tears, covering her face knowing that the truth had been unveiled. Steve would have had more remorse for her if she at least defended her daughter and tried to do something to stop it. But knowing that Max stood in that very spot in the trailer almost an hour ago left with no one to help her made his fuse blow short.

The cries of the woman nearly set Neil off, turning back to her with a hardened look on his face like he was silently threating her to shut up before he gave her something to really cry about. Yet with the presence of the other three in the trailer and the neighbors that began growing curious with the shouts — he caught himself whipping his head back to the men, staring indifferently.

They could hear a hairpin drop with how eerily quiet the trailer became after Steve’s admission. Eddie cursed under his breath, closing his eyes as he got filled in on what he missed. Hopper swallowed so thickly, not knowing if he was going to put Neil into cuffs or give him a taste of his own medicine first.

The chief knew something wasn’t adding up when he got the frantic call from her mother. Sure, Max was a rebel at times, but even then, the chief knew that the girl wouldn’t just up and leave in the middle of the night for no good reason.

His daughter was her best friend, and they told each other everything, the good, the bad, and the ugly — granted he never liked to stick his nose in anyone business, but El had always voiced her worries for Max and that stuck with him, especially now.

And Hopper was a father himself, a true and present one. It just didn’t add up that Neil had bailed when his son died and now that he had returned, it just so happened that Max had run away.

Neil spoke lowly eyes shooting daggers through Steve, “You ain’t got any proof,” he started before turning his sights to the one wearing the badge.

“And even if it was, don’t you ought to agree, chief? Children who give their parents lip should be disciplined?”

Hopper and Eddie tightened their holds, feeling the small inch that Steve had moved, ready to lurch once again, but he stayed glued to the floor, knowing neither of them would be letting go.

“Is that why you hightailed it after Billy died? You lost your punching bag, so you decided to leave only to come back and try to make Max your next?” Steve seethed, not letting the fire die out so quickly.

“Shut your damn mouth!"

The man stood, pointing a sharp finger at him, but Hop pushed a hand out, creating distance between the two.

Steve scoffed a sarcastic laugh, eyes squinting pointedly. “Or what? You’re gonna hit me too? You’re a fucking deadbeat disgrace of a father who should’ve been the one in the ground, not your son.”

He knew what he was doing, granted it wasn’t the original thing he had planned to do, but if Steve was right about the kind of man Neil was, it would only be a few more seconds until he would strike.

“Don’t talk about my son,” Neil warned, stepping closer and ignoring the hand and demands that Hop gave him to step back towards the couch.

Steve jutted forward just an inch, smirking because he knew what exactly he was going to say next.

“So I can’t talk about him, but you could beat him to a pulp?”

The pang isn’t as nearly bad as it could’ve been seeing as though Hopper had tackled the man to the floor the second his fist grazed his cheek.

The entire trailer shook with the tussle happening on the ground, cursing flying off the walls as Hopper held his hands behind his back and pressed his cheek roughly to the ground.

Eddie stumbled back, arms remaining wrapped around his friend, wringing his face forward to check for damage. “You good, man?”

“Fine.” He replied, running his tongue over the inside of his cheek, only a slight sting that would probably become a little bruised by morning.

“Shut up, Neil. You’re under arrest for assault.” Hop grunted, clicking on the metal cuffs as tightly as possible.

Even as victorious as it should have felt to see him getting what he rightfully deserved, Steve didn’t feel an ounce of victory knowing that Max had gone through what she went through tonight. At the end, something terrible had happened and now it was going to be about her working through it.

Eddie pulled his friend out of the trailer, fresh air being breathed in followed by the gasps of the onlookers who didn’t know what to make out of all of it. Making their way to his car for some privacy, Steve leaned against the door, rubbing at his face while Eddie stood in front of him, arms crossed not knowing what to say.

“H-how is she?” He dared to ask, wondering if it was too touchy of a subject or not.

Steve looked up, frowning with a shake of his head. “Not so great. Did you hear anything before she left?”

Eddie shrugged, trying to remember anything that stood out, but the trailer park was used to fights and yelling but never to this magnitude. If anything, everyone around there avoided calling the cops as much as possible.

“Just a few shouts, but nothing too clear. Her mom started knocking on every trailer, asking if we saw where she went and before you know it Hop was here.” Eddie replied.

Steve nodded still trying to piece together everything. Both of their eyes trailed back to the trailer, as Hopper read aloud the Miranda rights, walking the cuffed man to the police car.

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law.” He spoke before throwing him into the backseat, slamming the door to finally silence the hissy fit Neil was throwing.

The man was obviously exhausted. The last thing he wanted to do after he had already clocked out for the day was to drive all the way to the trailer park for some runaway. But when he heard that it was Maxine missing, he couldn’t stay at home knowing his daughter’s best friend was out there, probably scared and alone — the same way he found El.

It hit too close to home, and he was going to do everything he could to get her back home safely.

“She’s still at yours?” Hop called out, walking over to Steve with his notepad out for some info.

Steve nodded, backing off his car to look at his watch. “She should be asleep now, but yeah, she’s got to ours almost an hour ago by bike.”

Hop grunted out a disapproving curse, jotting everything down for the report. He clicked the pen closed, shoving it in his pocked before pointing up at Steve.

“Good. I want you to keep her at yours and I’ll stop by in the morning to ask some questions, alright?”

There was a sort of silent understanding between them both, one that even Eddie could read despite the missing words. They all knew how close Max was to you and Steve, and if she was going to be anywhere tonight, or maybe for a while, it was going to be with you both.

“What about her?” Steve pointed his chin at her mom, sitting on the steps still crying to herself. Hop took a deep breath, shaking his head.

“She’s gonna get an earful right about now, but you should probably go before then.” He advised, knowing that it would be best if Steve weren’t around despite his understandable anger.

All of the mean names and insults that spun in Steve's head and dared to leave his mouth but never did. Honestly, the sight of her crying alone was hopefully the wake up call that she needed to be a better mother, a present one that would pick her before anyone else, even kill for her if she needed to.

“You hurt her you know,” Steve declared out loud, knowing it was the least he could say for Max’s behalf.

Her face hidden behind her hands not knowing what to do with herself. She pulled them away, staring at him guiltily as she sobbed some more. But he didn’t have anything else to say to her and even if he did, he was sure the only words that would leave his mouth would be fueled with anger and disgust.

Eddie garnered his attention, patting the hood of his car gently.

“Go on man, it’s getting late.”

As a friend, Eddie cared a lot about you both. He even had a special place in his heart for the redhead who sometimes fed the strays with him when she was bored at home. It wasn’t often, but it was enough for conversations to begin where Max bragged about having Steve wrapped around her finger, ready to fight anyone who got in her way.

Steve and Max had an undeniable sibling sort of bond that tied them together — everyone could see it.

Max grew up with a step-brother who was dog-shit nothing, and Steve practically raised himself once he turned thirteen. It was clear that the both of them were fated together, a kind of chosen family that not even blood could touch.

“Tomorrow, okay?” Hopper said once more, patting him on the back and ushering him to get in the car.

Steve nodded, offering a kind handshake to both men before he got into his car, and took one last look — all the neighbors heading back into their homes after Hop waved them off, and Eddie wielding another goodbye before he jogged back to his trailer.

The drive home was a stark contrast, no more tears shed or shouts leaving his mouth. Just pure silence as his blood simmered down and his mind thought of you and Max — and of course, Ollie. His little family that he would vow to protect no matter what.

He parked the car, locking it and jogging up the short flight of stairs towards the apartment door. He dug the keys out of his pocket, quietly opening it, hoping to not wake anyone up. But of course, Ollie was already at the door waiting as Steve smiled, bending down to pet him as he shut the door behind him.

The floor lamp was left on, illuminating your sleeping figure on the couch with two layers of blankets pulled over your body. He thanked all the gods in the universe that you were asleep, knowing it wouldn’t do you any good if you had stayed up waiting even if it was out of love.

You knew that Steve would handle things and keep his promise. He always did.

He shrugged his shoes off, propping them on the rack before rounding the hallway towards your shared bedroom where the door was left open. Stopping in the doorway, he let out a sigh of relief, glad that Max was also asleep and safe. All the while Ollie hopped up on the bed, snuggling into her side for the night.

There were a lot of things that Steve was unsure of, so many questions still desperately wanting to be answered, but he knew that whatever was going to happen next was going to be in the best interest of Max.

No more of her feeling like she was second place or her own mother’s second choice. He was going to do everything in his power to give her the life she deserved — full of love and safety.

Heading back to the living room, he lifted the blankets up slowly, squeezing in beside you, doing his best not to wake you up. But it was nearly impossible as you stirred slightly, peeking your eyes open just enough to decipher his figure through the darkness.

“W-was everything okay?” You croaked softly, wrapping your arms around his midsection and pulling him closer to you.

“Yeah," he nodded, kissing your temple as he settled his body into the cushions. “Hop was already there when I arrived and he’s gonna stop by in the morning.”

“Where are you hurt?” You sought, already knowing that Steve was going to try to hide it from you for your own sake if you didn’t ask yourself.

He gulped, turning his jaw to show you where he was hit. “Just grazed me a bit…I’m gonna be fine.” He assured you as your fingertips skimmed over the area, trying to feel for a forming bump.

“Okay,” You took a deep breath nodding as your hand fell away from his face, “Let’s get some sleep…we’ll talk more in the morning.”

There wasn’t possibly anything more that you could’ve asked nor did you want any of the full details of what Steve had done to get things handled. He knew it too — that sometimes ignorance when it came to this sort of situation was bliss to you.

Your focus was on Max, and as long as Steve was safe and sound back in your arms, there was no need to worry about him. Right now Max was the person you needed to be thought of the most — and neither you nor Steve were going to stop doing so.

Max woke early the next morning, rubbing sleep and dried tears from her eyes as she was aware of the sun beating down past the curtains and the voices talking softly down the hall meaning you and Steve were already up.

She tossed around the duvet for a few minutes before mustering the strength to throw them off and let her feet hit the floorboards, taking her to the kitchen.

“Morning,” she croaked weakly, wincing at the pain in her cheek where her fingertips had slid against the skin carelessly.

You and Steve looked over your shoulders. Her sleepy figure taking a seat at the kitchen table and resting her face in her hands. Clicking off the burner, you both quickly gave her your attention.

“Hey bug,” Steve said quietly, reaching over for a clean glass, filling it up with water before he approached, sliding it over to her.

“How’re you feeling?” You sought, taking a seat beside her and smiling gently as she laid her head on your shoulder.

“A bit better. It’s the best sleep I’ve gotten in a while.” She admitted, with a weak laugh, happy that she didn’t have to endure a night of a loud TV playing or her drunk mother whining about the cable cutting out.

But she’d be lying if she said she was out like a light after she got out of the shower. Sleep didn’t come to her so easily, playing back the memory of what had unfolded and knowing that Steve wasn’t home. She didn’t have to peek out of the living room to know it, but she could feel it in her bones that he had left.

“What happened to you?” Max asked him. Her gut already knowing the answer to her own question, yet she just wanted to see what he’d say.

Steve shook his head, tapping his cheek, “It’s nothing, just a little bruise. I took care of it.”

She couldn’t be upset with him, even if she wanted to. The energy in her body was completed depleted and the last thing she wanted was to act as if she didn’t need the help. Steve was protective of her and she knew whatever he did to “take care of it” was coming out of the goodness of his heart.

“Thanks,” She pursed her lips into a tight line, tilting her head at him to which he nodded.

You stroked the hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ears as she turned her eyes up towards you.

“Hopper is gonna come over and get some statements about the situation. He said it’s gonna be easy peasy.”

“Will you guys be able to stay in the room?” She crossed her fingers, hoping that she wouldn’t have to endure it by herself.

“Of course,” Steve nodded assuringly, rubbing her arm up and down, “He might bring some other people from the department, but they’ll be in and out before you know it, I promise.”

“Okay,” she breathed, relieved that it wouldn’t be so bad with you both there.

Max had only spoken to the cops one other time in her life — obviously talking to Hopper casually didn’t count. But after the fire at StarCourt, she and her friends were all questioned by law enforcement, even the FBI. They showed her pictures of the damage and asked about Billy and the details of his death.

She went home that day feeling numb as everyone else, not knowing if she’d ever be the same, and to know one’s surprise, she wasn’t. A few days later, her mom had planned out the funeral with the help of Karen and Joyce who tried their very best to pick up the pieces while her mom struggled to deal with the loss of her stepson and the sudden departure of her husband.

Max would never forget that week. So much chaos, heartache, and guilt that would only continue to follow her wherever she went, no matter how hard she tried to get back to normal, it just wasn’t possible, not with the emotional abuse of life that she had endured.

She tried not to think about it so much, knowing that Hopper was gonna make sure no lines were crossed. If anything, the questions would go straight to the point that way it wouldn’t force her to relive every single detail of the night.

The three of you ate breakfast together, her and Steve occasionally feeding Ollie bits of scrambled eggs while you weren’t looking, lightly laughing to themselves as you went on about something that you wanted to do with the kitchen.

After you cleared your plates, she suggested she did dishes, but you and Steve waved her off, telling her to relax and watch some television or read some magazines before Hop arrived.

A little after eight, there was a knock on the door, a firm and loud one indicating that it was most definitely the Chief on the other side. Max switched off the TV, getting up to join you and Steve at the front door, greeting him warmly.

“Hey kid,” Hopper greeted, widening his arms as she grinned and walked into his side, hugging him — hugs from Hop weren’t typical, but she knew it was his dad side coming out and comforting her.

“Hey, Hop.” She patted his back before stepping away and letting you and Steve greet him.

You peeked back out the door to see if any other person from the department would be joining, “Just you?”

He hummed out an ‘mhm’, removing his hat and taking a seat on the couch before pulling out the same notepad and pen from last night.

“Didn’t wanna overwhelm her with too many people 'round. I know it’s a touchy subject, still fresh and all.” Hopper spoke thoughtfully, eyes darting over to Max who was very relieved as she plopped down on the opposite side of the couch.

“Thanks.” Steve nodded, going to sit beside her.

The pen clicked, and Hop jutted his chin out towards the kid, silently asking if she was ready or if she still needed a few minutes to prepare herself to speak about it. She nodded quickly, wanting to rip the bandaid off and get it over with.

“Where were you before you got back home?” He began.

“I was at the arcade with Dustin and Mike. I biked there at 6 p.m., left at 8:30 p.m. and got home at about 9ish.”

He jotted everything down as she went, knowing that while the details weren’t about the scenario that took place, he needed to know everything that had happened before and after.

“And when you got home what happened then?” He proceeded, looking up from the notepad.

Now the hard part, getting into the details that she wanted to bury in the back of her mind and forget. She knew that Hopper was here doing his job and the last thing he wanted was for her to revisit last night, but in order to make sure things were done correctly, he had to get some insight.

You patted her knee encouragingly, while Steve murmured kind words, “you’ve got this,” and “it’s gonna be over soon.”

“I—I noticed a car out front, but it didn’t look familiar, so I didn’t think anything of it. Thought that maybe mom had gotten a ride home from a coworker and they were inside talking, or that maybe one of the neighbors had a guest and they just needed parking.” She explained simply.

“And when you walked in?”

“Neil was there sitting on the couch and my mom was making dinner in the kitchen. There were a few empty beer cans lying around, but they could’ve been my moms, or his…I d-don’t really know, but they were there.”

“Okay,” Hop nodded, pen moving quickly against the paper, occasionally looking up to give the girl a warm look, telling her she was doing great so far.

“How did things escalate?”

“I told him to get the fuck out and that he wasn’t welcomed in our home.” She said bluntly not caring about trying to lay it down easy.

“How did he take that?”

“Not so well,” She shifted, sitting up and swallowing thickly, “for some reason, my mom wanted him to stay, and I kept going on about horrible he treated us—how he treated Billy, and he didn’t like that I was talking back.”

“And it’s from my understanding that he hit you?”

Max nodded, “He slapped me across the cheek,” She turned her face, showing Hopper the side that was hit, though the red hand-mark had waned through the night, “Just once, but it was pretty hard.”

“M’sorry that happened, kid.” Hopper shook his head, huffing out a deep breath as he took it down.

“I gave my mom an ultimatum… him or me, but she didn’t say anything, so I knew—I knew I had to go and leave.” Her voice died with a whisper, hating the fact that repeating the words out loud was just as hurtful as seeing her mom do it to her face.

You and Steve could tell that it was starting to get heavier for Max. The mere thought of retelling what she had gone through was like reliving it again. Steve reached for her hand, giving it three encouraging squeezes.

“S’okay, we’re right here bug, not leaving okay?” You whispered, wrapping your arms over her shoulder, letting her lean it toward you.

“And you biked all the way here?”

She nodded, watching as Hopper mentally did the math of the times, knowing she didn’t bother to check it once she left. “So would you say you left Forrest Hills at about 9:30 and got here at almost 10?”

“Maybe 10:30,” she clarified, “I got tired halfway and stopped for a second to catch my breath.”

“And when you got here?”

“I knocked on the door, and they answered and let me in.” Max spoke gesturing to you both.

Hopper nodded, turning his attention to you and Steve now.

“What was she like?” He asked looking between you both.

You swallowed, going first. “Shaken up, cold obviously, but most sad and shaken.”

“She gets um, panic attacks sometimes?” Steve looked over at Max apologetically, but she nodded, letting him know it was okay to go on.

“S-she said it was just some stuff at home, and it kinda triggered one, so she got her a glass of cold water and warm rag to help calm her down.”

“What happened after that?”

“I told them what happened…about the slap, I mean.” She clarified with the tilt of her head as Hop nodded and jotted it down.

“Got it.”

“A-are we done, now?” She furrowed her brows, shifting a bit in her seat just enough to catch the notepad that was filled with his writing, not even room left in the margins.

Hopper flipped the pad over, clicking his pen shut as he nodded. “Yeah, no more talking about it. Got everything I need to keep him behind bars.”

She let out a breath of relief, sinking into your side as you smiled down at her, pressing a kiss to the side of her head lovingly. You hated that she had to go through this, but you knew it was the process to make sure everything was handled properly and Neil wouldn’t be able to get out easily.

“I’m assuming you’re not wanting to go back?” Hopper proposed, smiling a bit at Max’s comfortability that was visible now that the hard part was over.

Max nodded sternly, looking back at him. “Not if I don’t have to.”

“You guys okay with letting her stay here for a while?” Hop asked you both.

Without hesitation, you and Steve nodded. That wasn’t even up for debate. Your door would always be open for Max no matter what.

“Then it’s best you go back over there, let Max pick up a few things and try to get her mom to sign this.” He reached into his pocket, slipping out a folded piece of paper that he handed over.

Steve grabbed it, unfolding it to read the contents as you and Max leaned over to do the same.

“What is this?” Steve shook his head confused.

“It’s to have you and Steve become Max’s legal guardians. Her mom is obviously still going to be her parent and I doubt she’d sign away her rights, but this is mainly to protect Max. To make sure that she has people she can go to when she doesn’t feel safe at home, and things to get messy with the court and stuff like that.”

“So, we just get her to sign this and then Max can stay with us?” You questioned.

“For as long as I want?” Max added with an excited glint in her voice causing Hop to push out a laugh.

“Obviously, I’d encourage that your mom tries to make things right with you eventually, but I can understand that you don’t want to be near her right now. So yeah, if she signs it, you can stay here as long as you want.”

Max perked up at the thought, sitting up straighter and looking at you and Steve with hopeful eyes — it was as if she was brought back to life for a moment just at the idea of getting to stay with you and Steve.

You smiled softly, rubbing her back, “Why don’t you go get ready and we’ll head out to get this done, okay?”

“Okay!”

As the bedroom door closed, Hopper turned to you both wearing an apprehensive expression, sighing deeply and rubbing his hands together.

“It isn’t going to be easy.” Hopper spoke softly, not wanting Max to hear, “She’s gonna be a little hesitant to sign it, but I gave her a little spiel about it last night.”

“How’d she take it?” Steve wondered, scratching the back of his neck.

“Telling a mother that she isn’t fit to raise her child and that her child was going to be better off in the hands of two early twenty-year-olds?” His forehead creased as he lifted his brows, shaking his head, “She was pissed.”

You rolled your eyes, tsking because she had done this to herself and you had no remorse for her, at least not after what she had done to Max.

“Well, she should’ve thought twice before letting an abuser back into her and her daughter’s home and letting that same man hit her kid.” You retorted sharply.

Hop nodding sympathetically, understanding your indignation.

“I know you’re upset, but you’ve gotta try to make her understand that way Max is put first.”’

Steve rubbed your knee gently, doing his best to calm you down knowing that while you were visibly upset at the entire situation, you both had to see it through for Max’s sake.

“We hear you.” He spoke, giving Hop a grateful look for the time and energy he was taking out of his day to help you both with the process.

“The kids are worried about her…” He revealed with a sigh, “They basically stayed up all night and grilled me when I got back home.”

Hopper didn’t mean to overstep his place and tell El and Will about it before Max had the chance to, but the second he received the call, the only thing he could do was burst through their bedroom door and ask when they had seen her last.

Safe to say that once they were awoken with the news that their friend had runway, they couldn’t bring themselves back to sleep — pacing the living room restlessly as Jonathan and Joyce did their best to soothe them while Hop had drove down to the trailer park.

“Do you think they could by a little later? They just want to check up on her and give her a hug.” Hopper proposed, since it was the one thing El and Will had made him promise he would do for them.

“That’s sweet of them.” You smiled with a nod, “After we head out, I’ll ask Max and have her call them up in advance.”

“Great.”

Hopper left after saying goodbye to you all, wishing you luck on getting the paperwork signed and reminding you and Steve that you guys could give him a call anytime if you needed anything.

The last place Max wanted to go was back to the trailer park, but she knew in her heart that avoiding it forever wasn’t something that she could do considering that she still loved her mom, but right then, she just couldn’t stand to be around her after everything.

You three agreed that you would do most of the talking in hopes of getting the signature on the forms while Max headed inside to pack her stuff. Max had nothing to say to her mother, nor did she have to even utter a work to her — she owed her nothing.

The only thing keeping Max’s hopes up was getting to finally pick up somewhere else, somewhere safer where she knew you and Steve would never put her in danger and give her the home that she was always longing to have.

Her blood started rushing quicker as Steve turned into the park, driving up to the trailer and placing the car in park. She closed her eyes, leaning head back against the seat, taking a few deep breaths attempting to prepare herself to face her mom.

“Hey,” Steve looked back, tapping on the console to grab her attention, “It’s gonna be okay. We’ll be in and out as quick as we can be.”

“You don’t have to say anything at all, just go in there and grab whatever you need, alright?” You added, twisting your body to face her, grabbing her hand gently.

She took a final deep breath, nodding as she glanced out the window, “Let’s get this over with.”

Steve jogged up the steps, knocking firmly on the metal before heading back down with you and Max. It felt like forever for her, hearing her mom’s voice call out from the inside and footsteps moving across the floors, but it was only seconds after the creaky door swung open.

A look of relief washed over her mother’s face, hands resting over her heart as she walked towards her daughter.

“Maxine! Oh honey, I was so—”

Your hand came out, blocking her from getting any closer than she already was, putting distance between her and Max.

“She’s here to get a few things, then she’s leaving.” You said sternly, locking eyes with her keeping your gaze hard.

Her mom looked between you and Steve, eyes wide as she swayed her head puzzled.

“L-leaving? To where?”

“Ours. She’s gonna be staying with us for a while.” You told her, not missing the way the confusion instantly spread to denial.

Max took the opportunity to push her way in, brushing past her mom through the door and making a beeline for her room. She shut and locked the door, quickly moving and grabbing bags to stuff full of the things while you and Steve waited outside.

Max’s mom shook her head, eyes pleading to you and Steve, “You can’t take her away from me. She’s my daughter. Please.”

You didn’t even look affected by her begging, still keeping your composure with your arms moving across your chest.

“We’re not taking her away. She’s picking us, and we’re choosing her. The same way you should have last night.”

Steve had never seen you be so cold as you were being in that moment. It was totally out of your character to act out that way, but he knew this was just as hard for you to do. You weren’t doing this to punish her mom.

You were acting this way because Max needed someone who wasn’t going to just give up on her and let her fend for herself. She had done enough of that already, and with you and Steve there was no need for her to do it anymore.

“Please, you have to know that I didn’t mean for him to hit her.” She reasoned, clasping her hands together like a magical prayer was going to change your view.

“But you did know how violent he could get, and you still let him in. You put your life and Max’s in danger. For what?” You scoffed, shaking your head.

“He said that things were going to be different.” She whispered, furrowing her brows trying to get you to understand where she was coming from.

“And you really fell for it? After all of this time, you would think that you would know better.”

“We could be an actual family.” She said, pointing into the trailer where Max was gesturing to you both that it could finally be a home with a mom and dad waiting for her.

That ticked you off beyond everything she had pervious said. You couldn’t keep your composure any longer, tightening your fists to your sides, doing everything to keep the anger at bay and remember what you and Steve were here for.

“Just stop it!” You yelled louder than you had anticipated, prompting Steve to lay a calming hand on your shoulder, murmuring out for you to take it easy.

“Max doesn’t need anything more than a mother. Someone who is going to put her and her needs first. Not some delusional idea of a family that never existed in the first place.” You retorted sharply, bursting the bubble around that stupid dream of hers.

“That’s not true—”

You pointed your finger at her, nearly seething at that point.

"You dragged her into this town, and you left her to fend for herself when Billy treated her like crap and you did it again when Neil did the same thing. As much as it hurts you to admit, you know you’re not fit for the role. At least not right now.”

You didn’t mean to be so harsh, but it was what she needed to hear and she didn’t even bother to defend herself. Shrinking back, you could see the way her eyes washed over with a sheen of tears, jaw quivering slightly as you went on without missing a beat.

“Do you even know anything about your daughter at all? Do you know that Steve and I are her emergency contacts? He had to drive down there last week for an incident that you should have been there to handle, but you weren’t.” You explained to her, trying to keep your voice low for Max’s sake.

“You’re barely around, and on the rare occasion that you are, you don’t even try to be apart of her life, or even try to scratch the surface of everything she’s been hiding because she wants to protect you.”

You had gotten worked up by then; the anger floating away and instead replaced with pure disappointment for the mere fact that you and Steve even had to be here in the first place. Had she done her job as a mother, none of this would have happened, and she wouldn’t be standing here getting an earful from you right then.

“But you’re her mom.” You swallowed, shaking your head at her sobs leaving her mouth.

“You’re the one who’s supposed to be protecting her, and you failed at that.” You said, letting your voice die, watching as she broke down even more at those words.

You felt terrible for making her cry despite knowing she deserved it. You weren’t an evil person; you didn’t gain anything by making her feel bad about the way she parented, but every single thing you had said played a role in how awful thing had turned out for Max.

Her daughter, a girl going through the most pivotal developmental years of her life, was protecting her own mother who was neglecting her. She could have easily picked up and left long ago, even before Billy died, but she didn’t. She stuck around and beared the weight of everything else meanwhile she was the one suffering most.

“I’m her m-mom…she only has one mom, and that’s me.” She croaked, pointing to herself while the tears ran down her face.

“So if I were you, start acting like it and get your shit together so you can be the one she trusts again. The last thing she needs is forcing herself to live with her only mom who shattered her heart.”

You took a shaky breath, reaching behind you to retrieve the papers that Steve was holding onto. Passing them over to her, you watched as she looked over them, seemingly having no objections any longer.

“Y-you promise she’ll come back home?”

You and Steve looked at each other, neither nodding nor shaking your heads before you finally mustered the strength to look at her again.

“Prove she should first.”

Before you knew it her signature was printed on the pages, the three of you standing awkwardly outside listening for the bustle of footsteps and drawers shutting before finally the door whipped open. Max wobbled as she made her way down the short stairs, keeping her eyes on you and Steve.

“She sign it?” She finally spoke, watching as you both smiled and nodded.

Steve stepped forward, taking the bags from her arms and going to put them into the trunk of his car as you stayed near the porch with Max and her mom.

“Max, I’m sorry.” Her mom sniffled, going to reach out to her before quickly pulling her hands back to her chest understanding that she didn’t want to be touched.

Max looked over her shoulder, staring almost emotionless as she muttered, “I hope you are.”

“I—I’m gonna change, I promise…I’ll be better for you.”

They didn’t share a hug or a kiss on the cheek goodbye, Max simply opted for nod not wanting to keep her hopes too high when it came to her mom. You three loaded back into the car, watching from the rearview as her mom waved goodbye while you all set off back to the apartment.

You met her eyes in the mirror, heart warming at the small smile that splayed over her face, leaving the park without looking back.

“Why don’t we have a day with El and Will, huh? We can go shopping for your new room.” You suggested cheerfully.

A short gasp left her mouth, a little confused and surprised. “My own room?”

Steve chuckled nodding as he glanced back at her for a second. “You’re gonna be living with us for a while, so yeah, you’re own room. We’re gonna turn her study into a bedroom for you.”

“Thank you, thank you thank you!” She bubbled, unbuckling her belt as she reached forward and draped her arms over your shoulders as you and Steve laughed, urging her to buckle back up.

“Give El and Will a call when we get home and then we’ll swing by to pick them up, okay?”

It surprised her just as much as it did you, how upbeat she was despite the events that had unfolded less than 24 hours ago. Perhaps it was just her running on the high of actually getting to stay with you and Steve, but you had a feeling that it was the genuine relief she felt knowing that she’d get to come home to a safe space every day from now on.

Steve had given you the keys to his car, steering you and Max out of the apartment right after you had dropped off all her belongings and she had phoned her friends. The second you made it to the Hopper-Byers residence, El and Will were already waiting on the porch, racing towards the passenger side to greet their Max with the biggest hug in the world.

Joyce even came out, pulling Max into a sweet hug, murmuring even sweeter words that a mother would give her child. A little sliver of your conscious felt guilty that you were depriving Max of that mother-daughter connection that she always wanted, something every girl craves to have.

“Do you want to tag along?” Max extended the invitation, looking back into the car where you nodded with a smile, patting the empty passenger seat that you would hope Joyce would occupy.

And alas, she did, which was a great excuse for you and her to talk about adult things while the kids helped Max pick out stuff for her bedroom. They ran off to the knick-knack section of the thrift store, hoping to find some decor, while you and Joyce sorted through the hangers of curtains trying to find something that would suit her style.

She nudged with her elbow, causing you to looking over at her as a small smile took over her features before she whispered softly, “You and Steve are doing the right thing.”

You inhaled deeply, giving her a shaky laugh as you exhaled. “You think so? I’m honestly a little scared.” You admitted, hoping she wouldn’t think you were second guessing it because you weren’t.

There was just a lingering worry living in the back of your head, wondering if you could actually do it. Without a doubt, you knew that Steve could. He practically handled all six children by himself at one point in time, but you were still new to it. You were always there for all of them, but Max’s situation meant not just being there, but being present and ready to be at her side at any moment.

You couldn’t stomach the thought of her bottling up her feelings and hiding away in her bedroom while you went on unaware of it in the next room over. You didn’t even know what you’d do with yourself if she came home in tears not wanting to talk about what happened before shutting the door in your face.

There were so many things you weren’t prepared for and that was what made you the most scared: the thought of not knowing and it ending up hurting Max more than she already had.

Joyce had been in your shoes a few years earlier, taking in El, a child she didn’t birth, but felt immensely protective over. Though her circumstances were different from Max’s, there were more similarities in the fact that all they really needed was a safe space with people who loved them for who they were.

She reached out, giving you back a comforting rub while you shifted to face her completely.

“They say people are never really ready to be parents and it’s the same way for you guys, but you and Steve are the perfect fit for her.” She said softly, watching as you took in her words with a nod, continuing to listen for what advice she had left to graciously give you.

“She trusts you enough to tell you about everything in her life without being scared that she’ll be in trouble. She chooses you guys because you choose her. I know it’s not an ideal situation, but sometimes things happen for a reason…for the better.”

It was a motto that Joyce Byers lived by, the fact that things happened for a reason and even if it wasn’t the way things were envisioned, it was always for the better. She would have never thought that she would be a single mom of two kids, leaving behind Lenny in order to give her two boys a better shot at living a life without the risk around. But she also would have never thought she’d find love again and adopt a girl like El, who completed her life in so many ways.

Their families meshed together like one without even skipping a beat. It just felt right even after all those years of going through it without each other. When they were finally found on another, it was like the missing puzzle piece finally being put back in its place—a kind of harmony that was difficult to replicate.

You saw it covering her face, the certainty and confidence she had in you to do it.

“I needed that.” You closed your eyes, wrapping her up in a tight hug. “Thank you so much.”

“I’m here for you all, no matter what. We all are.” She reminded you, rubbing comforting circles over your back.

She smiled where you couldn't see, catching Max from afar as she watched on with a grateful look, giving Joyce a thumbs up before running along to find her friends.

You realized that it was a lot of pressure, and right now it felt like the weight of the world on your shoulders to make sure you were giving Max everything she needed, but sometimes it wasn’t as complicated as you were making it out to be in your head.

Giving Max a place to stay and the knowing that she was cared for was already enough for her and all the rest were just extras she was glad to be given by you and Steve.

After a few hours of strolling through countless stores and picking up the right pillows and bedspread, Steve’s car was officially packed to the brim. You weren’t sure how you all managed to Tetris fit everything, but it worked perfectly and by the time you had dropped the kids and Joyce back to theirs, the empty seats were occupied by everything that was once on their laps.

“My arms are dying!” Max huffed dramatically, slogging up the apartment complex staircase as you lingered behind her, trying to catch your breath with each slow step.

“I’m getting too old for this. I should’ve picked the apartment on the first floor instead.” You fretted with the shake of your head, finally making it up to the top with a loud stomp.

You and Max stood at the top of the stairwell for a couple seconds, deep breaths filling the silence as you pressed yourselves up against the brick wall. Then suddenly, as your eyes locked, laughter erupted not being able to take each other seriously over the silly situation.

Despite the cramp that you were surely going to catch in your leg at any moment’s notice, it was all worth it knowing this was going to be a memory you’d both look back on and crack up at.

Taking another deep breath, you tilted your head down the hallway.

“C’mon I bet Steve and Ollie miss us.” You both walked the short way to your front door.

You let your arm’s weight down, bags falling softly against the concrete as you fished the car keys out of your purse, beginning to unlock it. Ollie’s little barks came from behind the wood door, getting louder when you unlocked the screen and finally pushed the second one open.

The second the gap was cleared, the pup excitedly jumped up on his hind legs, greeting you both with a few more barks.

“Oh, hi boy! I missed you so much.” Max quickly stepped through, placing the bags down and going to her knees in order for him to surge into her lap.

You grinned sweetly, bending down to pet behind his ears while you toed your sneakers off, lugging the bags behind you.

“Where’s your dad, huh? Did you keep him company the whole day?” You wondered aloud, mostly talking to your dog who wasn’t paying you any mind with the pets he was getting from Max.

Before you could even call out his name, Steve strolled from the hallway, dusting off his hands as he smiled at the both of you. His hair was slicked back more than usual, which you assumed was because of the sweat that accumulated from all his hard work.

He didn’t tell you much about what he was going to do before you left, just that he was going to fix up the bedroom for Max and get everything in order.

“He did keep me company. In fact, he couldn’t stop following me around, that is until he heard you guys all the way from the stairwell.” He snickered, knowing that Ollie could hear your combined laughter from a mile away, instantly darting towards the front door the second he heard it.

You walked over to him, placing a peck on his lips before pushing past him into the living room in order to get yourself a glass of water.

He turned his attention to Max. “Did you have fun today, bug?” He proposed, scanning the shopping bags, which wasn’t even half of what you had picked up.

She nodded, bringing Ollie closer to her chest as she waddled over to the couch to get comfortable.

“The best day ever! Joyce even joined us and we all got ice cream afterwards as a treat for all the sale findings we did.”

Steve glanced over at you with a suspiciously raised brow not believing either of you could be gone for as long as you were and only have a couple of shopping bags.

You were especially good at finding the items that were somehow always on sale or marked down, which is how you justified every purchase claiming you were getting a bang for your buck—Steve didn’t know if that was always true or not, but who was he to argue?

“I’m assuming there’s more in the car?” He looked back and forth between the both of you.

You gulped down your water, nodding with a wide grin.

“You are correct!” you said, tossing him the car keys that he quickly caught and stuffed into his pocket with a grin.

“Before I lug whatever the hell you guys bought up here, let me show you a surprise.” He announced with the clap of his hands, motioning for you both to following his lead.

Max’s ears perked up, shuffling off the ground and following him closely. “A surprise?”

“You heard that right.”

The three of you stopped in front of your old study, now Max’s bedroom where the door was pulled shut. You and Max had no idea what was behind the door, but you both were excited to see what he was hiding, knowing he could have done anything while you were gone for the day.

In true dramatic Steve Harrington fashion, he shot Max a semi-worried, yet semi-cheery look, placing his hands on her shoulder as if he was bracing himself for a bad reaction already.

“Now Max, if you hate it by all means, don’t be afraid to tell me,” He cautioned.

She glared playfully, flicking his arm in a scolding manner.

“Stop, I’m not gonna hate it!” She guaranteed to him, waving her hands out in the air as in telling him to hurry about revealing it.

“Fine, then…surprise!” He blurted, reaching back to twist the doorknob and press the door open, revealing its interior.

Shock wasn’t even enough to describe what Max was feeling, let alone fathom the work Steve was able to pull together with just a couple of hours. She wasn’t even sure how he managed to get all the furniture, considering he was left without a car all day, but she was sure he had pulled some strings to make it possible.

The rattan bedframe was pushed up against the wall to maximize the space along with a newly packaged mattress laying within it. Beside it was a small two tiered bookshelf that would also act as a bedside table. Even though it was still empty, he was sure all her comics and little knick-knacks would find their home there when she officially got unpacked.

A tall oak wood dresser stood on the opposite side of the room, and while the room itself did come with a small closet, Steve just wanted to make sure there was enough room for her to store all her things. And last, on the adjacent wall, was a small desk that used to be yours, one that you had told Steve to leave in there for her so she could have a spot to do all her studying and whatnot.

The walls itself were bare, Steve wanting Max to have the creative reign to do whatever she wanted with them or if she wanted to paint it a different color, then they could make plans to go to the store over the weekend and pick a few swatches to choose from the.

Steve anxiously waited as she quietly looked around the room, taking it in without saying a word. She hadn’t even seen the room all too much to remember what it even looked like before all the furniture was put in. The only time she would ever come in there was to grab some pens and markers from your desk, but it was never long enough for her to notice how much natural light and space the room truly had.

Steve crossed his arms over his chest nervously. “Do you like it? I know it’s not much, and it’s still kinda bare, but we can—oh!”

Before he even had the chance to discredit all his hard work more than he already did, the young girl launched herself into his arms, hugging him like her life depended on it.

“Thank you so, so much! This means the world to me. You don’t even know how thankful I am right now!”

You clasped your hands together, heart warming at the sight as you watched how slowly the relief covered Steve’s face before being plastered with complete and utter joy for successfully doing something special for her.

To be fair, you were sure Steve could have blown up an air mattress for her, and Max would have the same reaction since it was the utter thought that counted the most—but this was definitely better.

“You’re welcome, Max.” He smiled, patting her back kindly, still reeling from the reaction he had received while you flashed him a big smile and a thumbs up.

“How did you even get this on time?” She finally pulled away, going for the bed and jumping back first against the mattress with the plastic covering crinkling beneath her. “You didn’t even have a car to pick this up.”

Steve beamed proudly, beginning to explain how he made it all happen. “I made a few calls, and I got Eddie to come and pick me up and we were able to go grab it. And Hop was getting rid of some stuff from the cabin and he let me keep some of the furniture for you.”

Surely getting Eddie’s help was the easy the part, the hardest was convincing him to stick around and help carry it all up the flight or stairs. Steve promised to give him a discount on all the tapes he wanted for a full month just for the favor alone—but Eddie could have gone without it, knowing that Steve was doing it not for himself, but for Max.

“Look at you being resourceful,” you half teased, poking him in the arm while he rolled your eyes at your chiding.

Max sat up slightly, arms spreading out towards the both of you as she jutted out her chin. “Come on. Group hug.”

You and Steve laughed, practically toppling into her side when she pulled you both into her, hugging with all her might trying to physically push all the gratefulness she had into it. She was sure that she could never repay you and Steve for all the things you’ve done for her, but if she could hug you both every day and make you feel it, then she would be doing it forever.

“I’m so glad you love it.” You hummed, laughing through it as she hugged you tighter for just a split second more.

“Well, thank you guys again… for going out of your way for me and giving me a place to stay.” She said kindly, patting the tops of your heads before your dog had jumped up, wanting to be included,

“And thank you, Ollie, for letting me crash at your parents’ place.” She cooed with a giggle, placing the dog on her chest where he settled snugly.

“You’re always welcomed here, you know that.” Steve ruffled at her hair, sitting up on his elbow to watching how comfortably Ollie was already liking the new room as much as Max—you were both certain, he would be crashing there every night instead of the living room or at the end of you and Steve’s bed.

After a few minutes of Max taking in her new room and getting spoiled with cuddles from Ollie, she began unpacking all her belongings, starting off with the clothes since it was the easiest to get sorted. You helped her with folding and organizing them in the drawers, while Steve placed all her heavier jackets and coats on hangers to store in the closet.

Once that was done, you all decided to take a break to snack on food, since neither of you had yet to have a proper lunch. But after a full day of being on your feet and having little to know food in your system, you were pretty much out after finishing half a bag of Doritos and a can of Coke.

Your fatigued body sprawled out on the couch where you had settled, claiming your back needed the extra cushion that the kitchen chairs didn’t have. Max and Steve decided to give you a break, doing their best to not wake you as they cleaned up and headed back to the room to finish unpacking and decorating.

It was a bit of a challenge for them to get the plastic wrapping off the mattress without your help, but they managed to find a way—Steve lifting one corner at a time as Max carefully ran the box cutter over the tarp and tugged it away section by section. The fitted bedsheet also gave them a bit of trouble but after 10 whole minutes of fighting the stupid elastic and getting confused on the right corner, it was done and her bed was properly made with the pale quilted bedsheets.

While Steve went to search for screws and the drill, Max occupied herself by filling the bookshelf bedside table with her collection of comic books and magazines. The ceramic jewelry dish she found at the thrift sat on the countertop, filled with friendship bracelets El made for her and some spare hair ties. On the bottom shelf, she shoved her Walkman and headphones into a wickered basket she also picked up at the thrift that surprisingly matched the rattan bedframe.

Some of the posters she managed to pull off the trailer walls without ripping but were bit crumpled and creased from her rushed packing, found their new homes on the walls in a collage like arrangement.

She was sure Steve would laugh and tease her when he saw the Karate Kid, Ralph Macchio, hanging right beside her dresser, but she also knew he would eventually pick her up tape and suggest it for movie night in a few days. She continued on, taping the rest of the posters up before she heard Steve’s footsteps coming back in.

He did, in fact, chuckle a little teasing her a bit at the way he knew she and El had a crush on the actor due to the fact that they screech every time he came on screen and the sole reason that had gone to see the movie in theatres three times in the same day.

Finally, they worked together to put up the hanging shelf that you had found for a deal, but without any instructions. Steve was totally going to lecture you about how no matter how good the deal was he wasn’t an instruction booklet that just knew how to put things together on the spot. But thankfully, this one didn’t give him too much trouble, at least in the beginning.

“How about now?” Steve gently lowered his hands, backing up from the wall with a single step.

With no level in sight, Steve had to continue readjusting the shelf’s position to make sure it was sitting perfectly flush and leveled against the wall. Neither he nor Max was sure how you slept through the shrill of the drill gun going through the drywall, but they were successful—in not waking you up and finally getting on the shelf right after three attempts.

Max tilted her head from where she sat on the floor. “Yeah…yeah, that looks about straight.” She shrugged not seeing it tilt to one side more than the other.

“You sure? I don’t want your tapes to fall and crack.” Steve frowned, stepping back up more to it to see if it was leveled correctly.

“They’ll survive, Steve.” She snickered at his concern, going to grab the small shoe box which contained all her adored belongings.

Her beloved, always on repeat, Kate Bush tapes found their place in a short stack, not too high in case they accidentally fell and the plastic casing cracked. A few drawings Will had sketched up for her, clipped together and stored in a folder for safekeeping. A few of Billy’s items that she kept like the ashtray that was now used to hold her spare change. And, of course, the koala plush that Steve had won for her at the arcade.

But there was one more thing at the bottom of the shoe box—a framed photo of her and her mom, from way back when she was a little girl in California. Her father took the photo, the two of them standing with wide smiles right in front of the Ferris wheel on Santa Monica’s pier.

Trips were always rare since they were on a tight budget, but her dad always claimed it was the perfect excuse to be stuck in traffic together and then get to stretch their limbs by riding all the rides.

The photograph sat at the bottom of her drawer back at the trailer, and she hadn’t even realized she packed it in the haste until now. Steve who had been sweeping up the dust that fell on the floor from the drilling, noticed her unmoving figure staring into the pit of the shoebox.

He set the broom aside, peering in to see as his lips curled up curiously, “What is it?”

Her lips pursed together into a fine line, picking up the frame and handing it over for him to see. Young Max, no older than six, smiling cheekily beside her mother with an ice cream cone in hand. Her front teeth were missing, but she still sported her signature plaits and freckled cheeks—a lot had changed, but still she was the same spunky girl who just got taller and got all her adult teeth in.

Steve looked up, glancing over at her. “Santa Monica, right?”

“Mhm,” she hummed, wondering how he could’ve known without seeing any specific signs in the photo.

“Do you miss California?” He wondered aloud.

Max shrugged her shoulders not really knowing how to go about it.

“Sometimes. I used to miss it more back when we first moved here, but after a while I kinda stopped because I had made friends and it wasn’t as bad as I thought.”

Steve chuckled, jabbing his elbow gently into her side. “Until you found about the alternate dimension?” He half joked to which she snorted with a roll of her eyes.

“Obviously…but even then, at least I wasn’t alone.” She said, nudging him back at the memory where he was the one who saved her and her friends during her first run in with those demodogs.

She twisted her fingers through each other, shoulders lifting curiously, “I—I do miss my dad sometimes, though. I always wonder what he’s up to, if he ever misses me or my mom.”

“You don’t really talk about him.” Steve said, tapping his foot on the ground suddenly aware of his limited knowledge on her dad’s side.

She nodded understandingly, knowing she didn’t share a lot about him with other people in the first place. Even El didn’t really know too much about him.

“Part of me wishes I could’ve stayed back with him, but I guess he just didn’t want to bear the full responsibility of a kid all by himself.”

“Did you ever try calling him?” Steve wondered, looking at her watching as she nodded with a small smile, recalling those moments for him to hear for the first time.

“We used to talk all the time when we first moved. He would call super early in the afternoon because of the time difference, and he didn’t want to miss me before I went to bed. He used to ask about my day at school and tell me that he was saving up to come visit…” Her smile faded, eyes darting down sadly.

“But he never did.”

“I’m sorry, bug.” He apologized quickly, hating how he had to ask such questions when she was already going through a lot. He didn’t mean to trigger anything, it was just pure interest to learn more.

“No, it’s fine,” she assured him, shaking her head when she finally looked back up at him.

“I know it probably wasn’t easy for him to see his only daughter get up and leave to live with her mom and her new husband who was practically replacing him. I just didn’t think it would mean he’d stop being my dad you know?”

Max knew Steve didn’t have much of a father's presence in his life either, let alone parents at all. It was one of the many things they had in common, something they were both painfully self-aware of.

Their parents were so far away, literally and figuratively. Steve didn’t even know when was the last time he saw his parents’ faces in person, while Max didn’t know when was the last time she had a proper conversation with either her mom or dad.

At some point in time, they became even more self aware that they had to look out for themselves—Steve obviously realizing this first. He hated to know that Max was essentially going through the same thing he did, and it was as if the cycle was repeating, but in other ways the curse was also breaking.

Steve placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing tenderly.

“Sometimes the people we love stop trying and no matter hard we want them to care, it’s not up to us to make them.” He said delicately, hoping his words would travel deep within and stick with her.

He wasn’t always the best with words and by a long shot he felt like most times he never made the most sense, everything getting misinterpreted or coming across the wrong way. And while Max never liked the idea of unsolicited advice, she really appreciated Steve’s knowing he gave some of the best and most straightforward ones of them all.

“Do you think the same thing is gonna happen to my mom?” She wondered, hoping he would have an answer for her, but Steve didn’t want to compare his parents to hers.

Steve shrugged his shoulders unknowingly, not wanting to give her a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ when he could never truly know for sure. “I think one day she’s gonna come around and she’ll make up for not trying as hard as she should have.”

She took a deep breath, thankful for the careful words, before feeling another squeeze upon her shoulder as Steve spoke again, “But for now, we’re here and we’re not gonna stop trying and we’ll never not care for you.”

That was all that she needed to hear for the waterworks to begin. A trail of happy tears pooling withing her eyes as she sunk into him, letting him bear her weight as he hugged her tightly. It was the kind of hug that replaced the words “thank you,” and “I love you,” because the action alone spoke volumes—in fact it screamed it out loud without even uttering a peep.

Steve Harrington and Max Mayfield surely did not share a drop of blood, but what they did was know that they had each other to lean on. He was always going to be that protective older brother who hated to see her grow up so quickly, and she was always going to be that little sister trying to give him the childhood he never fully got to experience himself.

You didn’t let yourself be seen or heard, back pressed against the hallway wall, biting down on your lip to keep you from letting out a weak cry. You had awoken minutes ago, about to wander into her room to check their progress, but hearing their little heart to heart on your way there made you stop in your tracks and listen.

They needed that moment more than you did, and you’d be damned if you cut it short. As they pulled away, you took a quiet deep breath, swiping your eyes gently to clean the teary look before you knocked softly on the door, letting them know you were there as you walked through, letting out a short gasp.

“I fell asleep for an hour and this place is already looking complete!” You said, looking around in amazement.

Max chuckled, gesturing to the walls, “Don’t you like my Ralph Macchio poster?” She wiggled her brows while Steve muttered an “oh god,” under his breath.

You pointed at her with a nod before winking, “Get one of Matthew Broderick and that’ll complete the whole thing.”

Steve pretended to gag as if he wasn’t once a teenager with all the hot bombshells up on his wall. “What do you guys want a shrine of all the heartthrobs or something?” He accused, peering at you both with a comical look.

You pouted, going towards him to ruffle his hair. “If it makes you feel better, I think you actually resemble a little of Matthew Broderick just with better locks.”

“You think,” Steve blinked self indulgently, looking down at himself while you and Max repressed your laughter, shaking your heads at each other.

“Okay seriously though, I need some real food.” You stated, patting your stomach as they hummed in agreement.

Steve checked his watch, realizing how much time had passed and the sun that was setting sooner than anticipated.

“Too lazy to cook.” He groaned not wanting to do more work.

“But too lazy to go out.” Max added, plopping down on her bed.

You grinned, clapping your hands, “Why don’t we order some pizza? I got that coupon in the mail for an extra topping for free.”

“Pineapple!” they declared in unison without skipping a beat.

You laughed, shaking your head at how much they were truly long lost siblings in this lifetime and probably all the other ones out there.

“I’ll go call it in.” You sing-songed, spinning on your heel about to walk out towards the living room as Steve followed behind you.

“Oh!” Max sat up, looking at you both with a hopeful smile. “Can we at the table and use fancy plates and drink Coke out of the nice glasses?”

You and Steve smiled, nodding your heads at the simple request that seemed like such a big deal for her. Whatever it was that she wanted you and Steve would do the best to give to her.

In this lifetime and on this day, it was a neon kitchen filled with the laughter and smiles as you three ate dinner like royalty and the bright sky faded to night before it’d greet her again in the morning.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: hello hello hello sygb lovers -- the new chap is finally here!!! after months and months and months of on and off working on this chapter i finally finished it and i really hope you all enjoy it. i dont write angst as much but getting to dive deeper into max's life has allowed that for me and defintely challenged me as a writer who primarly sticks with fluff. i love writing steve and max's sibling dynamic but i also really love writing steve's gf's dynamic with max -- they both love and care for her so much as if she is their own. i really hope you guys like this chapter and let me know what you think <3

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @the-alchemys @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3 @a-simpfortessa-lesbriean

[foxilayde]

Conversion Rates [Nathan Bateman x Reader]

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: Nathan gets some unexpected news.

Warnings: Cigarettes, talk about death, talk about blood, brief mention of oral sex.

A/N: Feel free to ignore 💚

There’s buzzing coming from Nathan’s side of the bed. Long and persistent enough that it appears in your dreams, morphs into reality, and annoys you to the point of shoving your boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Get it.” You grunt, peeking a bleary eye open to the clock at your own night table. 3:55am. Only someone with a death wish would be calling Nathan at this hour.

“I’m gonna kill whoever that is.” Nathan is haplessly searching for his glasses, he groans when he finds them and flips the blankets off of himself to then locate the source of the buzzing. The person must’ve called again because the buzzing has been going on for at least a minute.

“Whomever.” You yawn.

“What’d you say” Nathan grunts distractedly while pawing the sheets, searching for his phone.

“Nothing.”

“Were you correcting my grammar? At four in the goddamn morning?”

“Hey don’t get cranky on me. I’m not the one calling.” You sleepily smile at him as he shakes his head, “go back to sleep,” he mutters to you when he answers the call.

“What?” Nathan answers simply, the greeting replete with annoyance. He’s scratching his head and then suddenly his hand stops like it forgot what it was supposed to be doing. His back goes rigid and he shakes his head quickly before swallowing and swinging his legs out to rest on the floor, elbows on knees, forehead in palm.

“Yeah I’m here… mmhmm…yeah.. Sure…. Yeah… okay…” He sighs a lot and rubs his head, h is eyes, his beard. This doesn’t sound like a work emergency. You scoot close to him and soothe his back in long slow strokes. He puts a hand on your knee.

“Yeah. Friday…. Uh huh. Okay thanks— no, not— … I don’t know what to say, Aimes. It’s fucking four am over here…. That’s….. alright fine, whatever, see you Friday… yeah you can tell her. Fine, don’t tell her, tell her, either way I’m— I’ll be there…. Yeah. Okay it’s okay, I’m fucking—……. Yeah. Got it…. Bye.”

Nathan’s jaw clenches and one breath after hanging up he hurls his phone across the room and against the concrete wall in an over handed frisbee-type toss. It cracks against the wall and thuds on the rug.

“Oh, that one got some air. Eight point seven. I’m deducting a point for lack of expletive. Couldn’t even give me a ‘bastard’? Disappointing, Bateman. You’ll never make it to regionals with that attitude.”

Nathan pulls both hands down his face and lays back down. Not in a joking mood. It’s quite possible he didn’t hear you at all.

“Was it work?” You ask quietly, changing your tone to something softer, something more befitting the early hour and the mystified expression on his face.

“No.” He breaths. Your eyes fall to the smithereened phone.

“Where are you going on Friday?”

“Hmmm?”

“You said something about being there Friday? Where’s there?”

“New York.”

“But not HQ?”

“No.”

Nathan puts his arms behind his head and stares impassively at his reflection in the mirrored ceiling. He is nowhere near a playful mood, so it’s a mystery to you why he’s making you play 20 questions, but as long as he’s answering, you’ll keep asking. Your first instinct is to inquire how many questions of the twenty remain, but his face reminds you of the early hour and you think better of it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You offer sincerely.

Nathan blinks several times but does not answer.

“You want to go back to sleep?”

Nathan sighs and shakes his head slightly.

“You want me to make you a smoothie? Or some matcha just the way you like it? I promise I’ll use the whisk and not a fork this time.”

No response.

“Although I’d like to do the Pepsi test on you with that and see if you really can taste the difference.”

“Honey.”

“You gotta admit, it’s a little pretentious.”

“My dad’s dead.”

“What?”

“Funeral’s on Friday. New York. That was Amy.” His face is impassive as ever. You however flip the fuck out.

“OH my GOD. Nathan!” You opt out of a crushing hug and gently place your hand over his heart instead. “I’m so sorry.” Your brow furrows. “What happened?”

“Heart attack.”

“Nathan, I’m so sorry.” You repeat, at a loss for words.

“Hey, if he didn’t want to die from a heart attack, he should have taken better care of himself.” Nathan pulls the rumpled sheet over himself and turns to face you. “C’mere. Let’s go back to sleep.” He beckons you to your little spoon spot with one grabby hand.

You don’t ask him if he’s sure, let alone ask him if he’d rather talk about it. Something like this is going to take your boyfriend months to process. You scoot back against him and kiss his hand.

“Don’t for a second think this gets you out of our 6am trail run, by the way.” He grumbles and kisses your shoulder.

You pat his arm, the one that crosses your chest and holds you flush against him. “You don’t think we could skip the hell trail, I mean the trail run, just this once? I mean, we should probably pack. We’ve still gotta helicopter out of here and plus the time difference in New York, Friday is technically only… fifty one hours from now. Your family probably needs help? With things— arrangements?”

“You don’t have to go with me.”

“Oh shut up, of course I’m going, you nut.”

“This is so fucking typical of him.”

“What is? Perishing?”

“Fucking up everything.”

“Yes. Very rude of him to die on this the morning of our trail run. What an asshole.”

“You think I’m kidding. I’m not kidding. He made it his life’s goal to be as much of a burden as he possibly could. Died as he fucking lived.”

“Hey now, save some of that heartfelt sentimentality for the eulogy.”

*******

“I’m not speaking. Absolutely the fuck not.”

“Nathan, come on. You have to say some words. They don’t have to be true, you just go up and say “He will be missed” and you can leave out the “just not by me” part. It’ll be over before you know it.”

“Can’t believe Amy would just assume that I’m going to do it and stick it in the fucking program.”

“Totally, who does she think you are? The only son of the man who died, or something? Pretty presumptuous of her.” You roll your eyes.

Nathan takes an angry drag from what is probably his twentieth cigarette of the day, and it’s only noon. You didn’t even know he smoked until you landed in New York and his first stop was at the Bronx Boulevard Bodega and Deli for a pack of Viceroy 100s.

“You keep staring at me like that and your face is gonna get stuck that way.” Was the only ‘conversation’ the two of you had about the revisited habit when he lit up in the back of the towncar on your way from his mom’s place to the church on Tinton Ave.

Cars honk and whiz by. It’s dry and exceptionally cold for April, you tug your black coat closer around your middle. Nathan doesn’t flinch to the temperature in his thin black wool blazer, still in agitated ponderance, still pissed off at his dead father. He’s been standing outdoors most of the day already. Excusing himself to his mother’s porch to chain smoke all by himself in lieu of making small talk at the pre-funeral breakfast with his mother, sister, and yourself.

You check your watch before tucking your arm back around yourself in a contained shiver.

“Service starts in ten minutes. You think we should head in?”

“Go ahead. I’ll meet you in there.”

“Seriously Nate, lets go.”

“Don’t tell me what the fuck to do okay, you’re not my mother.”

“Oh shit, you’re right I’m not. She is inside though. I can go get her if you want. She’s passing out programs right now for her dead husband’s funeral services, but I’m sure she’d be willing to stop the world and burp you, or whatever the hell you need that’ll make you stop acting like a child.”

“Fuck off, alright?” His Bronx accent gets thicker with each passing cancer stick.

“You know, it pains me to say it, but for as much as you hate your father…”

“Don’t.”

“I don’t have to, you already know.”

Nathan flips the lid of his cigarettes, curses, crumples the Viceroy box, and shoves it back in his pocket.

“Out of excuses are we?” You’re trying to be supportive, you really really are, but he’s being fucking ridiculous. You loop your arm around his, hoping he’ll be too upset and distracted to stop you from leading him into the church.

He lets you take him two steps forward before halting. “I haven’t been in there since I was fifteen.”

“Looks intimidating.” You nod at the tall dark grey stone walls and narrow strips of stained glass.

“‘It’s fucking creepy is what it is.”

“Are you… scared? Of seeing him?”

“Who? The lifesize bloody effigy of Christ the redeemer suspended from the middle of the ceiling? Yeah, a little. Did I ever tell you that my first nightmare as a child was thinking I was caught in a tropical rainstorm in my bedroom, but then, I look up, and its a fifty foot tall man in a loincloth and barbed wire crown floating above me, bleeding on me in these fat, red drops—“

“Holy shit— no, what the fuck? I’m talking about seeing your dad. About the open casket… fuck me. We’ll unpack that levitating son-of-god nightmare later.”

“I haven’t spoken to my dad in… I don’t know. I don’t even remember the last time we talked on the phone. I’m trying….to remember the last time I saw his face and… I….can’t.”

Nathan swallows hard and looks up at the overcast sky. He’s, choked up, his chin quivers angrily.

“Some holiday probably. If there even was a holiday in the last ten years that he spent someplace other than that hole on 165th.” He shakes his head and bites his lip in resolve. “I can’t do it, honey. I can’t go in there for him. I can’t do this this when he would have never—“

“Then don’t do it for him.” You squeeze the crook of his elbow. “Do it for your mom, who misses her husband. Do it for Amy, who is equally as fucking pissed at her dad but had to organize this whole funeral anyway, without any help.” You poke his chest.

Nathan grimaces.

“And most importantly, do it for me.” You peck him on his cringing lips, “because I am fucking freeeezing.” He kisses you again and you pull back and grin at the novel tang. “So that’s what Mac DeMarco’s ashtray tastes like, I’ve always wondered.”

He smiles for the first time in days. It’s a little one, but it’s there. “I’ll do it. I’ll go in, I’ll speak. For you. But, you owe me.”

“You still accept blowjobs as payment, I assume?”

“Yeah but the conversion rate in New York is much higher than in Norway.”

“Wow, how randomly convenient for you. The rich just keep getting richer, don’t they?”

Nathan gives your butt a tap to usher you inside. “That’s economics for you.”

END

[cinamun]

@jayveesim brought up a really, REALLY good observation about that post-funeral flashback compared to Jay in the apartment confronting his mom.

So I want to take a little dive into this rabbit hole right quick.

Feel free to join me....

It almost feels like that wasn't a statement. It feels like this entire line from Jay was either condescending in tone or questioning in tone. If it was condescending, he was likely mentally putting together puzzle pieces that have been missing for most of his life. "No one plays like my dad unless they are from my dad... REMEMBER MOM??" Or.... he's saying it because its something he tells HIMSELF.....

Mercy hasn't stopped saying this in the 18 years since her Jackson's passing. In my head it was always because he was really good (like *gasp* Coltrane) and he died before he was really discovered. Perhaps other musicians noticed this unmatched talent and is all they talked about and is why they got booked for so many shows (kinda like Eva's abilities impressed the entire music department at UBrite). Maybe there were articles written about him? Because there are several peer-reviewed articles about Coltrane being the only person to play the way he played and being an influence to modern jazz and other genres. I mean... of course I modeled Jackson after that but wait, there's more!

Is this the start of the pedestal placement? Was Jay indoctrinated? I loved how @tsunamirains was like still skeptical because Mercy has consistently put a do-no-wrong image of Jackson into Jay's head.

And then there's this....

now wtf does THAT mean? We all know that"Understand?" means if you don't get it, imma make you get it. lol Why would Mercy say anything disparaging about Jackson anyway?

Okay.... I think i'm gonna crawl out of the rabbit hole now and finish my coffee but I was hoping someone caught the things and y'all caught the things.

[melodramaschild]

Cigarettes out of the window- poly! marauders when you start overworking out to try and be prettier for them

Robie's funeral

𝐂𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐖, 𝐏𝐓. 𝟏

Navigation || Age limit

Warnings: bulimia, body dysmorphia, slow burn, crying and bad mental health, negative self-talk, not happy ending, my writing, part 2 on its way

Let me know if I forgot anything

Words count: 2 299

Pairing: poly! Remus Lupin x James Potter x Sirius Black x fem!reader

Read me: If you see any mistakes, please let me know. English isn’t my first, not even second, language and reminding me of some mistakes would help a lot. Also, feel free to reblog.

A/N: please, don’t read this if you’re easily triggered about your eating disorder. Remember that this is not any motivation for you to start witch such a thing like this. I’m just writing the request. If you feel like you have problems with eating disorder, please reach out for help. || and I’m also sorry that I didn’t stick up with only reader who is overworking out.

My girl Y/n/n used to always smoke cigarettes when she couldn't sleep

You were sitting in the bath robe, hair hidden in a hair mask under a satin bonnet and tears slowly daring out. You needed to look pretty.

Covering yourself in another face mask, the liquid substance sticking on your skin and your fingers gently massaging it in.

That’s what you’ve been doing everyday for the last few weeks.

You stopped sneaking into your boyfriends’ room as you did every night, instead you were doing… whatever you want to call this. Let’s call it a bad habit of yours. A new bad habit.

(❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡*.✧

(❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡*.✧

(❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡*.✧

Instead you were falling asleep with loud thoughts and tears slowly staining your pillow. Your thoughts were cruel, mean, inexorable. Always telling you that their love is just a prank on you and if you really want to be lovable you need to be pretty, and that you weren’t pretty for love.

Late night heavy thoughts were replaced with James’ (and sometimes Sirius’) morning workout. Just typical cardio. Running on the Quidditch’s field as your lungs were always burning. That was the price of beauty.

“Are you alright, sweet cheek?” James asked between his own gasps as he saw you ‘I’m going to pass out any moment’ position. Hands on your knees, labored shallow breathing and tears burning in your eyes. “Y-yeah,” you breathed out, the breath burning your throat. “Just forgot how to breathe for a bit.” you tried to play it as a joke but James was still worried. “Alright, just catch me if you are too tired.” He leaned down to kiss your sweaty forehead and you couldn’t help but feel disgusting. And disgusted.

James kissed your sweaty forehead. Your ugly forehead where you didn’t practice your morning skin care routine. Your forehead that was now all scrunched up. Your fucking sweaty forehead that was dripping with sweat.

For you, it was derogatory now.

But for you in the past and for James, it was normal and a sign of love. James didn’t care how sweaty you were and how you looked. He loved you whole with his whole huge heart, no matter what. And for you in the past, it would mean the same.

“Do you fancy a shower with me?” James smirked at you towards the shower. It was something you used to do after his games. All four of you. Take a shower where you and Remus pampered James and Sirius. Massaging their scalps and planting small kisses all over each other.

It was something you used to do with James after his training. Taking a quick shower with him, which always turned into a water fight. No one was happy because of that mess afterwards.

And normally you would fancy a shower with James. But the person was no longer in you. You needed to be pretty to have a fancy shower. Anyway, you used trips to bathroom for a different reasons now too.

“No, thank you, Jamie.” you gave him your apology and before he could say something, you ran away to take your own shower.

To wash out the sweat and scrub your whole body to have the smoothest skin in the whole United Kingdom. To have smooth skin like those girls you read about it fan-fictions.

She'd disappear for an hour and a half and when she'd come back she'd brush her teeth

And that went day after day. Meeting James on the morning run and then Sirius on the evening run. Meeting Remus on the afternoon study because no one would date a stupid girl.

“Are you alright?” Remus asked you when he noticed that you’re not there in spirit. You didn’t answer, he reached out his hand, the back of it stroking the side of your shoulder.

“Mhm,” you hummed, only because you heard some noises. Remus sighed, sadness washing over him as he realised that no matter what was happening, he was slowly losing you. They, they were slowly losing you.

He leaned a bit closer to you, his warm fingers hooking under your chin, your eyes locking with his amber eyes. The golden hour played with his hair and eyes, making him look like a fallen angel. So pretty.

And so pretty, but not for you.

“Talk to me, pretty girl.” he said, softly. “Why don’t you talk to me?” His lips turned into one of his sweet smiles. “Talk to me, like you used to.” His fingers found their way to stroke your cold cheek. “So, are you alright?” he raised his eyebrows at you. In his face there was no taunt or mockery, just a lust for knowing what’s really bothering you. There was a worry written in his face.

You opened your mouth but all you could do was to choke on your words. Your lower lip started to wobble and you couldn’t fill your lungs with oxygen.

“N-no.” you squeaked before completely fondling yourself into Remus’ open arms.

No.

Just a simple one word, one sentence that was telling him a whole story. Remus pulled you closer to him, and closer, and closer until you were curled up in his lap. Your arms wrapping around his neck like you’re drowning and he was your saving buoy.

Painful and heart wrecking sobs were escaping your throat and your salty tears were drenching his jumper. But all he ever wanted was you to know that it’s okay. That you could ruin every jumper he owned with your tears if that would cure you.

His warm hands were traveling from your shoulder blades to your lower back, rubbing your loins as he knew that they would hurt you.

His warm and soft hands, on your tender shaking back.

“Shh,” he whispered oh so quietly. “Is going to be alright, darling.” He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting his own tears not to escape in front of you.

“It’s not, it’s not going to be okay.” you sobbed and clutched on his tall figure.

“No no, don’t say that, sweet girl,” he shook his head and a first tear slipped from his closed eyes, running down his cheek and burning on his fresh unhealed scar. “It is going to be okay, alright?” he placed a kiss on the top of your head. He didn’t give you a chance to argue with him before he pleaded: “Look at me,” his voice was desperate. Just like his hands prying your face from his neck.

Remus cupped your face, seeing tears streaming down your face and your lips being curled up in a painful twist. If the room was silent, you could hear Remus’ heart shattering into billion tiny pieces.

“We are going to solve this out, alright?” He looked at you through his light lashes. “You and me,” he continued. “You and me and Jamie and Sirius, okay? We’re not going to let you be alone for this.” Remus promised.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything to him, nor even nod, all you could do was to hide in his body again and cry into his jumper.

But I could still smell it on her raggedy teeth

Sirius was playing with Padfoot’s tennis ball, throwing it into the air, trying to reach the ceiling. His eyebrows were knitted together in an intended look.

“I think something’s wrong.” he murmured out of nowhere.

“Wacha mean by that?” Remus looked up from his book, The Shining, still smelling new. “Look at it, mate,” Sirius sat up on his bed, spreading his arms around. “Y/n/n is not here.”

Remus and James glared at him, their faces telling that they already noticed.

“I mean,” Sirius started. “She was there,” he looked at his other boyfriend. “and suddenly she’s not here. Only meeting up with me on my afternoon run and-”

“What did ya say?” James interrupted him and titled his head.

“What?”

“”Bout that run, say it again.”

Sirius blinked at him a few times, completely confused just like every time in position class. Marauders talked about everything. Remus, Sirius and James especially as they all had the love bond. They talked about Quidditch, they talked about studying, they talked about why James ate cheese again when he’s lactose intolerant, they talked about their breathtaking girlfriend. They talked about what to do for the big anniversary, where to take you and if you would fancy a trip to Edinburg… but for some reason they never talked about how you’re sticking up with them through the day.

“She is running with me on afternoon runs,” Sirius nervously chuckled. “What’s wrong with that?” he asked.

The thing about Sirius’ run was… Let’s say that Sirius found a healthy coping mechanism for him. But what was saving him was something that was killing you.

James stood there, blankly staring into the space.

“James, what’s happening?” Remus crawled at the end of the bed to his boyfriend. James didn’t hear him, the ringing was way too loud in his ears, like hundreds of mosquitoes attacking his brain, only experiencing this feeling when he got overwhelmed with the whole world.

Remus reached out for his hand and tucked on his fingers. “Darling boy,” he looked up at him. “What’s going on? Talk to me.” Remus pleaded.

“Y/n/n was on a run with me this morning.” James started. “And yesterday’s morning too.” he breathed in. “And the previous morning too, and that morning too,” he wanted to continue but his voice disappeared into the air as his brain started working with puzzles.

“She was with me yesterday’s afternoon too, and the previous too.” Sirius added, slowly catching in.

“That’s… too much,” James whispered. “And then… I didn’t see her at breakfast. Not for the last few weeks.” James started thinking out loud.

“Oh c’mon, mate, she said she is getting nauseous from breakfast.” Sirius waved in front of him, completely believing your explanation.

But Remus understood. Way more quickly then he would want to.

The way he saw you getting more and more exhausted everyday, the way you excused yourself for bathroom breaks after everything you ate, the way you kept sipping on your water without even reminding. Something was awfully wrong.

“Fuck,” Remus breathed out when he realised. “What?” Sirius and James glared at him.

“Did you notice any suspicious behavior in her?” He asked, quickly opening his bedside table and grabbing his notes and pen, scrambling something down.

“Mmm,” James thought. “Lot’s of drinking?” Sirius brought that up. “Like she is able to drink a whole liter on our afternoon run. Which is weird, she used to drink a whole liter throughout the day, not an hour.”

Remus wrote that piece down, doing his math. It would make sense, it was after lunch and running made you nauseous too anyway. The perfect opportunity.

“Anything other?” He asked.

“Well, for me, it’s not spending time with us. It’s been weeks since we had a sleepover. And sometimes, I see her on a map sneaking into Hogsmeade and always coming back with bags of something.” James added.

“Mhm,” Remus nodded. “That’s really… new and odd.”

“Remus what are you doing?” Sirius asked, trying to sneak glances behind his shoulder.

“Thinking, it’s a very helpful thing.” Remus snearled.

After a few minutes, Remus was done, pinching the bridge of his nose as he was the one wearing glasses.

“I… I’m only assuming, but,” Remus took a deep breath. “It’s obvious Y/n has a problem. On that list there can be issues with food consumption and weight loss. Maybe some shopaholic tendencies too.” He read you out like a book

“But what does she buy?” James asked.

“Maybe… I don’t know.” Remus shook his head.

“So, when are we going to talk to her?” Sirius mumbled, his legs bouncing as his thoughts swirled in his mind. Another fake scenario is coming up about you.

“What time is it?” James asked. “Around 16, do you have any idea where she is?” Remus looked at his boyfriends. “Probably at her place.” They looked at each other, communicating through eyes and suddenly it all clicked. They all got up, ruffling their bed sheets.

They all reached their stairs but Remus stopped, turning around and running back. “Rem! What are you doing? We are running out of time!” Sirius shouted. “Shut up!” Remus barked and ran to his drawer. Ruffling it all over until he found the thing he got back for. Your (his) comfort (not his comfort) sweater. Remus quickly changed it and tidied it up with his fingers. It was a forest sweater with light and red stripes, it was a bit itchy on his skin and people sometimes mocked him for it, but he swore to the Lord that it was a magnet on you. Every time he wore it, you were glued to him for the whole day, always nuzzling your cheek into his chest and always holding him so close.

“Really? You had to change right now?” Sirius chuckled. “You don’t get it.” Remus rolled his eyes.

They ran into your place, knocking on your door and deciding to come in when no one answered.

Maybe you were just taking a nap, listening to some music or forgot to close the door.

However and whatever, they expected everything, but none of them wanted to believe that they would see their girlfriend coming from her bathroom, wiping her mouth into her sleeve that was covered in… god knows stuff. With puffy lips and eyes stained red, looking like she committed the biggest crime ever.

“Loves,” you did hoarse, your throat still burning up.

“What-” Sirius started, shaking his head as everyone had their eyes glued on you, shocked and scared expressions on their faces.

“What have you done…?”

[amnesique]

hi sweetheart, i have a request. so nick and reader are enemies, but there are some moments when they flirt. jenna invites them to a party and they play spin the bottle, and ofc reader and nick have to kiss which kinda turns into a make out session. after all they confess their feelings to each other and everyone is happy.

it’s totally okay if you don’t want to do it, sending you love!! 💗

hate it and love it at the same time — nick leister

warnings: there is a lgbt part, not very important or long, but i warn you guys that i do not want to read any homophobic remarks.🩷 enjoy!

i don't know if it's exactly what you imagined, but i still hope you like it and that it's not too far from what you wanted

"¡idiota!" you snarled at the brunette young man who hurried past you, causing the drink in your hand to stain your shirt, and his only reaction was to laugh at you.

jenna looked at you with a surprised look in her eyes, raising her eyebrow slightly at you, thinking to herself how dare you challenge him because that young man was not only nick leister, the son of the well-known william leister, but he was also the head of the gang you both belonged to. but you were aware that even though you both couldn't stand each other, the idiot still had a bit of a soft spot for you, loving to make fun of you when you got mad or to make you get angry. and yet, he never got mad at the need to remind you that he was your superior.

at another party, you kept on begging jenna to get her boyfriend, lion, to get nick to let you drive at least one time in one of the races, exactly when nick came out of nowhere beside you. "i'd rather die than let you drive my car," he said, taking a sip of his drink, with a devilish grin on his face, challenging you.

"then i can't wait to come to your funeral, caro," you gave him the answer with a sweet smile, nudging him in the chest with the finger of the hand you were holding your drink in, and his grin quickly disappeared, as he clenched his jaw.

challenge accepted, nicholas.

at the next race, you sneaked past him and lied to the one in charge of the race that nick had given you permission and that you were also going to participate, adding that you were like his secret weapon and that not everyone needed to know, in order to avoid the information reaching the ears of the head of the red gang until you can even get your foot in the car.

that night was the night nick admitted to you and everyone else that he couldn't stand you, even if you won. you had won behind his back, after totally ignoring the fact that the gang's fate was in his hands only. since then he had sworn that he would never let you have any idea what peace meant.

"what?" you asked your friend in annoyance, raising your voice as you tried to clean yourself up in vain.

jenna gave a short chuckle, gesturing that it was nothing and you rolled your eyes, dropping your hands to your sides and suddenly she became serious, compassionate even. "do you want me to get something from my closet for you to wear?" she looked at the stain on your shirt, thinking that there was no way it would come out, at least, without being properly washed.

"no need," you murmured and pulled your shirt over your head, leaving it on a chair next to you, and remaining in your bra.

jenna looked you up and down, admiring you like only a true friend would, and gave you a slightly worried smile. "are you sure you want to stay like this?"

"yeah, i'm sure," you rolled your eyes again, being amused this time, wrapping your arms around your friend's neck and confidently walking like that past the drunk people. "where did you say that game was going to be played?" you asked her, taking your arms off of her, but she took your hand.

"follow me,” she said and she led you to a more quiet area where people had already sat down on the floor in a circle, lion keeping free spots for his girlfriend and you.

when you saw nick also present, you frowned and sat down more pulled down by jenna because your mood was already fading.

you watched throughout the game how jenna kissed her boyfriend, how nick kissed a random girl, jenna kissed a boy you didn't know and in the end you also kissed a girl, the girl nick had kissed too. the kiss eas quick, but you could've feel the taste of nick's alcohol and cigarettes on her tongue, and suddenly, it was like a small part of you wanted to taste yourself.

the whole game nick kept glancing in your direction, content with the sight he himself had caused when he passed by you. and when the bottle you spun stopped in front of him, it gave him reason to look at you longer, the grin returning as well.

"what are you waiting for, idiota?" you asked him annoyed, crossing your arms over your chest, the sight getting even better for him, and he ran his tongue over his lips, smiling right after.

he moved closer to you just as you moved your hands to your sides, realizing what you had done, and he started kissing you with such force and desire, as if it was just the two of you.

what a shame it wasn't just the two of you.

if you were, then nothing would have stopped you from entwining your tongue with his for a bit longer, tasting yourself the alcohol and menthol cigarette on his, while his hands firmly covered your ass, squeezing lightly, gluing yourself to his body to stop the other boys from looking at your breasts.

lion started whistling next to you, bringing you back to reality just when you liked it more, and making you peel away from him as if kissing him had burned you.

nick glared at him, killing him with his look, and you tried to cover yourself with your arms, suddenly slightly embarrassed.

nick made a guttural sound to the rest of the boys, causing jenna to make silent noises. "if any of you take one more look at her, i'm going to gouge your eyes out with my bare hands, understood?" and they nodded, turning away almost immediately, looking anywhere but at you. "let's go put something on you," he whispered to you and you shooked your head. he said your name in a louder tone and you stood up, walking past him, walking alone towards the house.

or so you thought.

he was behind you right after you, watching you and waiting to a more secluded corner, to take you by the hand and pin you to the wall.

"what are you—," you started, wanting to kick him away from you, but he was a step ahead of you, and he put his hand on your leg, stopping you from kicking him. you swallowed hard, feeling waves of electricity where he was touching you.

"i won't let anyone to even look at you again."

you giggled weakly, more as a reflex, and you looked intently at him, wishing he had moved his hand higher up your thigh. "is this your way to tell me i'm yours or some shit?"

your question had been sarcastic, making fun of his possessive side, but he caught you by surprise when he nodded, bringing his lips to your pulse line. he kissed you there, making you melt into his arms, you becoming one with the wall behind you.

he lifted his lips to your ear, whispering softly, "you're indeed mine from now on."

for fuck's sake.

[sevencolorsatlast]

Archons Reacting To Their Creator Singing Pt. 1

Hello, peeps! This is my first SAGAU post! :)

Part 1 [Venti, Zhongli, Ei and Nahida] (You're Here!) || Part 2 [Furina]

Author's Note: The Creator is singing this song specifically (or any of The Crane Wives' songs, honestly). It's such a good song.

Also, I had a few headcanons of mine thrown here and there. You can figure them out as you go and feel free to take inspiration! :D

Author's Note 2 (8/26/23): I'll be adding Furina soon!

Author's Note 3 (11/12/23): Added Furina! :D Check the link above! I also fixed minor things here!

Content Warning(s): None

Other Notes: Default SAGAU / GN!Reader / Drabbles - Different Scenarios / 1.9k+ Words / Ao3 Link

[ Venti ]

" This house says my name like an elegy

Oh my, oh my

Echoing where my ghosts all used to be

Oh my, oh my "

After a long day entertaining your followers and finally alone, the Traveler takes you to Windrise for you to rest and bid farewell as they used the Statue of the Seven to teleport who-knows-where. You remember they prefer working on commissions late at night but you worry they aren’t getting proper sleep.

You sigh, tiredness caught up to your body, but your mind is wide-awake. A crystal fly perches on your shoulder, basking in your presence. Its glow never ceases to amaze you; you can feel your eyes twinkling as you gently caress it with your fingertip.

A distant tune chimes in your mind - like the gentle light of the moon and the soft earthy smell of the ground. You hum the song's intro quietly; the crystal fly takes flight to join its kin, circling you from the air with their slow elegance. 

You start singing, your peripheral missing a certain bard stopping in his tracks when he hears your voice and hides in plain sight. The grass sways beneath your feet, and the fireflies glow brighter as you gain the confidence to sing a little louder. He floats by and rests his feet on one of the tree’s branches, adoring the sight below him.

As a bard, Barbatos wants to play along but doesn't want to interrupt you; that would be impolite of him. He pays attention to the lyrics you’re singing and makes sure to ingrain them in his mind and inspire him to make another tune similar to yours. He knows it doesn’t match your divine, but he will try to please you with his hymns. The God of Wind can see you smile while singing to yourself, and your surroundings dance in delight, making his heart skip a beat.

Due to his starstruck mind, he didn’t realize that you had finished singing, and you glanced up to see the crystal flies; your eyes met his. You suddenly feel conscious, heat rising on your cheeks. He drops from his hiding spot, kneeling on one knee when he lands.

“Your Grace,” He looks up at you, slight regret upon his emerald eyes, “I apologize-”

You’re honestly tired of your followers apologizing to you for every little thing they do.

“It’s not a big deal, Venti.” You say so casually, your tone firm yet smooth as silk, “As I said before, treat me like any other normal Teyvatians. Or like a fellow Archon.”

He is quiet for a while as he contemplates, which is highly unusual for him. You mentally take a note before he stands up, manifesting his lyre, and smiles at you.

“Well then,” He says, his fingers plucking the strings, “Can you teach the song of yours to a poor ol’ bard like me, Y/N?”

You can’t help but grin when he says your name. “With pleasure.”

[ Zhongli ]

“ All my aching bones are trembling

And I may yet fall apart

Won't you stay with me, my darling

When the war starts in my heart? “

It is a hot afternoon when you visit Nantianmen, with Zhongli accompanying you since he knows his region at the back of his hand. He built it from the ground to impress you and continuously fight off threats to prepare for your arrival.

But he never thought you would arrive after his "death", yet he welcomed you when you sought him out at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. You agreed to have a contract with him that states that you will never expose his true identity as Morax. After all, you know his lore and backstory, so you stir clear from Adepti territories as much as possible despite the condition not written on the contract.

His gaze never leaves you as you hum and randomly point your finger to something new; he willingly gives you its story and you listen to him intently, eyes sparkling with curiosity. As he finishes, both of you stand before the area where Azhdaha was imprisoned.

You sing your tune while brushing your hands against the flowers, blossoming under your touch. His golden eyes widen, turning to you as your surroundings come to life. The leaves sway to your melody; the sunlight emits a glow that Zhongli himself cannot explain. The birds chirp along, and the rustle of the grass compliments your melodies.

The song's lyrics are breathtaking enough, and your voice is divine to his ears. He is more than happy to have you sing in his presence.

He realizes he is holding his breath after you’re done singing; you turn to him and smile bashfully.

“I hope you liked it.” You say, “And I may have messed up the lyrics a little.”

“I enjoyed it, Your Grace.” He says to you, pleased, “And, I assure you, I will not mind if you explain the ly-”

“Oh boy, I’m really glad you can lend an ear, Zhongli!” You beamed. “You have no idea how much I want to discuss the lyrics with someone!”

He blinks in surprise, his pursed lips melting into a genuine smile. “I'll be listening, Your Grace.”

[ Ei ]

“ Every word I say is kindling

But the smoke clears when you're around

Won't you stay with me, my darling

When my walls start burning down, down, down “

Beelzebul is built for fighting. You are well-aware of that.

But, as a Creator, you are bold enough to ask her if she can sing, and she turns to you with a dumbfounded look. You didn’t mind if she didn’t answer your inquiry, but she insisted anyway. Of course, she can, but some of her notes are off-tune. Regardless, you’re impressed that the Electro Archon herself can sing and that's enough information for you.

Ei didn’t tell you how embarrassed she was when she tried to sing in front of your divine presence. She airs this predicament out to her dear friend Yae Miko. The sly Yokai obviously never going to live it down. 

Weeks later, you are invited to a gathering where you need to entertain people and can’t deny the request since you are this world's Creator. You are looking for someone to get comfortable with singing the tune in your head. You do not feel as safe with any of your followers except with Ei but she already has a nation to deal with, and you don’t need to disturb her from her endeavors. 

Even without speaking, Yae takes notice of your behavior and notifies Ei as soon as possible. Knowing that sly Youkai, you had no choice but to rehearse in front of the Archon since you would rather hide behind Ei while she deals with a Thunderhelm Lawachurl than Yae shooting you cunning looks and teasing you despite you being her Creator.

You temporarily borrowed the Traveler’s Serenitea pot; they don’t mind since they are taking bounties and finishing their remaining commissions. There’s a kitchen inside the teapot, so you had prepared her favorite dessert as a token of thanks for her presence. She says there’s no need for you to be so polite since you are her Creator but you insist that you appreciate her having her schedule cleared just to see you sing.

You take a deep breath, calming yourself before starting to sing. Ei’s eyes widen when she hears you sing, stopping her from eating the dessert she’s holding. The sky above you delightful showers you with its light, and your hair glistens radiantly. The water from the nearby waterfall matches your tune, and a gentle breeze hugs your body.

She just stares in awe after you’re done singing.

“Uh, how was it?” You ask her awkwardly, her gaze unchanging. Her purple eyes remain on you as if she is studying your stance.

She gains back composure a second later after registering your question and clears her throat, “It’s impressive, Your Grace. And I wouldn’t mind if you could sing for eternity.”

You freeze at that thought as she chuckles at your reaction.

[ Nahida ]

“ This tired old machine is a-rumbling

Oh my, oh my

Singing songs to the secrets behind my eye

Oh my, oh my “

Nahida is a gentle and intelligent god by nature.

Meanwhile, you are already an intense person in your world to protect the weak. As a Creator of this world, you want the Sages to pay like any other sane person and punish them accordingly and mercilessly. They will face your wrath like any other enemies who dared to lay a finger on your favored acolytes.

But she begs you not to, and you have no choice but to comply with her wishes. She’s the God of Wisdom… and an adorable one that you can't resist her pleading emerald eyes. Despite your rough facade, Buer sees through you and appreciates you - as her Creator - wanting to protect her. You huff and glance away, saying she deserves more than being treated like nothing for hundreds of years.

You wonder how such a god can be kindhearted; you even acknowledge quietly that there’s not even a bad bone in Nahida. You trade your knowledge with her about your world, and she trades off the knowledge she learned from the Irmunsul and Dottore. She does this in order to distract you from your violent tendencies - you will give a piece of your mind to whoever bad mouths her and your followers.

One day, she accompanies and leads you to a place where small creatures live to ease your mind from harming the Sages. They call themselves the Aranara, and they are… tiny. Tiny and cute creatures, you thought to yourself. You notice they speak in such an odd manner, but you don’t mind.

One Aranara requested if you could sing for them, and you blinked rapidly at the sudden request. What kind of question is that? You look confused and turn to the Dendro Archon, who encourages you to answer. You sigh before saying that you can, but you warn that they should not expect your voice to be pretty and all.

The Aranara in front of you tilts their head and gives it a little scratch with its tiny hand; they said they haven’t even heard of your voice. You finally cave in and straighten your back to sing the first song that comes to your mind.

The forest around you lights up as if cheering and basking under your divinity. The Aranara around you follows your tune, and they are good at picking up the notes even when they aren’t familiar with the song you’re singing. 

Nahida watches you out of curiosity, and admiration, relieved when you finally let loose, and she grins when she sees you smiling. She claps along when you hit the second chorus of your song, humming along with the tunes she’s familiar with.

When you’re done singing, the Aranara folk cheers. One floats above you to put a flower crown on your head. You feel slightly embarrassed with all the attention you’re getting and you see Nahida clapping her hands in delight.

“That was delightful, Your Grace.” She says, coming down from her projected swing.

“It’s nothing, really.” You lied but, surely, she had already seen through you.

Nahida chuckles and hands you her signature dessert, “Have a snack! I’m pretty sure you’re hungry from all that singing.”

You let out a small, amused laugh, “...Thank you, Nahida.”

Damn it, you’ve grown a soft spot for this gentle god. 

And both of you know that you wouldn’t stop protecting her when the time comes, no matter the cost.

[deansapplepie]

Till THE DEAD do us part | Chapter 7

A/N: This story will take place in all the seasons, but it’s not exactly a rewriting cause I’d have to re-watch everything to use the exactly lines of the characters, also I think it’s better if I tell a side story without changing the main facts of the story.

This story has a Female Reader, but I don’t describe her appearance, so anyone can identify with her.

Chapter 6 Chapter 8

Chapter 7: Chupacabra

Summary: The group settle down at Hershel’s farm. The search for Sophia continues and they have more clues about it. The Drama is all around the place, secrets, words not told and heads figuratively rolling, or not.

Warnings: swearing, fluffy, violence, agression, blood, injuries, mentions of cheating, mentions of possible death, scars, Daryl is a soft, Reader (yes, you are a warning in this one), Rick’s glare. (I think that’s all, if you see anything I didn’t mention just tell me) Minors do not interact.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader (Rick’s Sister)

Word Count: 5,337

Extra notes: I proofread the text, but English is not my first language, so feel free to correct any mistakes, of course with love. I’m consulting a timeline of everything that happened, but it can happen that I put events out of order, but I don’t think it’ll make much difference in the story. As you can see this title coincides with a name of an episode, normally I use something important in the Chapter as the title, but this time I had to use Chupacabra, because reader is a believer.

After you were settled down at your new camp, everyone reunited to Otis’ funeral. It was very beautiful all the words Hershel said and the family, in the end they asked Shane to say some words, he was the last one with the man. He talked about what happened and said some beautiful words about Otis. It was a very sad situation, but you were glad that the man helped saving Carl.

Later Maggie brought a map of the region and the group started to talk about what they could do and where they could go to search for Sophia. Hershel prohibited Rick, who donated blood, Shane, that had hurt his ankle and you, who had injuries from a trap to go in the search. Having that in account, Daryl was the only one going on search for Sophia.

Also, Hershel prohibited you all to walk around with guns, and very reluctantly you gave your gun to Rick so it could be stored with the others, but you kept your knife with you anyways. You had to follow the rules since he so kindly took care of you and let you stay at his property. At least he agreed to let Dale have watch and stay with a rifle.

Hershel told you to not walk much, you could walk but just a little to stretch your muscles, more than that could rip the stitches open and would interfere in your healing. While everyone was getting ready to do something, you head inside to the room where Carl was resting. You sat in the chair beside him and Luna sat on the floor taking her cold nose to his hand.

“He’s resting Luna, you need to behave, he can’t play right now.” You explained to the dog as if she was a little child and petted her so she wouldn’t be upset. You caressed his forehead and observed his face, now he wasn’t pale anymore, his cheeks got color and he had a peaceful face.

You were happy that he was good now. Also you were very impressed at what Hershel did. If you had come to a situation like this you don’t think you would think right ahead that as a Vet you could do something with your knowledge to also help humans. Sometimes you even doubted that you could be a good Vet… You knew the Death of the cat that costed your later job was not your fault, he was old and very sick, also for a rich person, his owner took a long time to take him to the clinic having in count the time he said the symptoms started, but you couldn’t help, but doubt yourself sometimes.

“Aunt Y/N” you heard Carl’s voice bringing you back from your inner thoughts.

“Hey! Hello little man! How are you feeling?” You asked turning all your attention back to your nephew.

“It hurts a little, but I’m good.”

“Of course, look at who missed you a lot.” You said And brought Luna’s attention back to the boy, but holding her by her collar just in case she decided it was a good idea to jump on Carl. She sniffed him all around while he passed his little hand on her back.

Soon he got back to sleep, you encountered Beth and asked her to show where you could wash clothes. You didn’t had clothes to wash, but you had the rag Daryl had put on your injury and you wanted to clean it and give him back. After you washed it, you put it to dry near your tent.

Later that day, Daryl came back with no Sophia, but he got clues that she probably was at a cabin at some point. It was good news, maybe she had survided… maybe she was out there somewhere. You still had hope, even in a world like this. Now you had Walkers, but back in the old world human beings were just as dangerous as them, if not worse. Dinner was ready, but it seemed like everyone were eating at their own places, the exception being Andrea, Dale and Carol that were together. You made a plate for you and a second to Daryl, he had assembled his tent a little bit far from the rest of you, just like he and Merle used to do at the quarry. Your leg hurt, but you needed to eat something before taking the medicine.

When you got near his tent, you didn’t see him, but you could swear you had seen him some minutes before close to his tent. So you called for him and soon he emerged from his tent.

“What are ya doing here?” He asked coming out of the tent, and you couldn’t quite say if he was pissed or if it was his normal grumpiness.

“I brought you dinner.” You said handing him the plate and sitting on a cut wood that were close by.

“Ya shouldn’t be walking around this much.” He answered taking the plate from your hand and sitting at his beach chair.

“Well, I wouldn’t if you had assembled your tent closer. You know you don’t need to be separated from us.” You stated taking some food with your fork, he grunted. ‘What does it even mean?’, you asked yourself. You were getting used to his grunts, but you couldn’t understand all of them.

“I like ma privacy.” If it wasn’t for the southern drawl, he would have sounded like an English Lord at this moment. “What are ya smiling about?” You didn’t even notice the smile on your face.

“You just sounded like a very pompous person.” You said, you always spoke your mind to Daryl and it could be cool, or turn really wrong. “I’m not mocking you. It just made me smile.”

You ate the food in silence, that silence that you learned to appreciate so much. He had a small fire there and it kept you warm from the slightly cold breeze. You felt like you could stay there looking at the fire next to him, for the rest of the eternity, but you also knew that maybe he didn’t wanted you to. So you decided you should go to your tent, maybe read something and try to sleep. You couldn’t be more wrong, because he was thinking the exactly same thing, how he could stay there for a long long time watching the fire and occasionally taking small glances at you, watching your face relax and how anything could put a smile to your face, you were beautiful at every moment, but in his opinion, nothing could win how much beautiful you were when smiling.

You reached for your pocket and took the clean rag that you had folded to give it back to Daryl. “Here, I washed it.” You handed him. “Thank you.”

“Ya didn’t need to… ya could have it.” He took it, a little embarrassed to receive it all clean when he had wrapped it all dirty around your wounds. But it was all he had at the time.

“Of course I had to. You kindly wrapped my wounds in it, it was covered with blood and you may need it.” He let out a grunt, so you decided to say something. “Keep it for the next time I get hurt.”

“Ya’re not getting hurt again.” He answered grumpily.

“I can’t promise you this.” You stated, and really you couldn’t you didn’t know what could happen tomorrow in this world. “Gonna go back to my tent. Rest yourself, you’ve been working harder than anyone here.”

You got up and put your hand on his shoulder. You wish you could give a kiss on his cheek and tell him good night, but you had already tested your luck hugging him earlier today. “Goodnight D.”

“ ‘night pup” he answered, he wanted to touch your hand, tell you to stay a little more, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell you.

You walked back to your tent calling for Luna, she was nowhere to be seen. After some seconds she came from the RV to meet with you. You said your good nights for the ones you could see. Then you took Luna to your tent and prepared yourself to sleep. You thought about reading, but you were way too tired.

You woke up early in the morning with that feeling when you want to stay more in bed, but you’re not sleepy anymore. You changed your clothes and got out of your tent to start the new day. You met Carol at the bonfire to make breakfast and you were overjoyed about having fresh eggs to eat. She suggested making a dinner to the Greenes so you could thank their hospitality and all the help they gave you, and you thought it was a great idea. You could help chopping the vegetables and in any other way that didn’t demand you to stay up for a long time.

Dale, T.Dog, Shane, Andrea, Rick and Daryl were discussing a plan to do the searches for Sophia of the day. You approached them just when Jimmy arrived saying that Hershel gave him permission to go with the group, it sounded fishy to you… but you couldn’t just accuse the kid of lying.

“Can I go with you guys?” You asked, you were so silent that almost nobody noticed you were there already.

“The hell ya’re going”

“You’re not going.” Daryl and Rick said at the same time, they looked at each other for some seconds and Shane just rolled his eyes at the situation. Rick thinking that Daryl cared too much for being just a friend and a little bit annoyed, because he was your brother and he was the one who should say these protective things when you were not on your right mind. Daryl inner panicked a little, did he sound too protective? Did he sound bossy? Not that he didn’t want to protect you, in fact he really wanted to, but he also didn’t want Rick to have the wrong idea.

“Ok gentlemen, don’t need to fight. I’m not going, because of my doctor’s recommendation AND because I promised to help Carol and Lori.” You stated trying to sound cool, but in reality you were sulking wanting to go with them. Not that you were bad with domestic things, you were actually good… but it didn’t mean it was your favorite thing to do.

They continued planning and you just stayed around, it made you feel like you were also participating and being useful. Then T.Dog joked about the Chupacabra Daryl told he saw back when you were at the quarry and Dale had to explain to Rick the story.

“I believe on Daryl.” You said, nobody asked, but you didn’t give a fuck. “They were commonly seen in South America, but there are reports of people who saw it in other places. Did you guys know about the theory that they might be aliens or alien’s pets?”

“Let me tell you something, nobody knows and nobody cares nerd!” Shane picked on you, you showed him your middle finger, but he knew this time you were not actually mad with him.

The group started to leave and you followed Daryl to the barn. You didn’t know if it was a good idea to go out there in the woods with an animal, eventhough Maggie did it just fine the other day, but things could get bad if they encountered walkers.

“Why are ya following me? Ya’re not going.” He stated when you entered the barn.

“Well, if you’re taking a horse with you, better to have a vet look it before you take it.”

“Whatever ya say.” He muttered, approaching one. “What do ya think about this one?”

He was next to a mare, you looked at her and she was a beautiful animal. “She seems strong and healthy, I think it’s a good animal, but I can’t assure you it’s safe to ride her. I don’t know her temperament. Are you sure about going on a horse?”

“Yep, it’s faster and more secure. I can cover more land.” He affirmed, and in fact it was true, but you still thought about all the dangers he could encounter.

He saddled the mare and already got all he needed to continue his search. You wished him good luck, he was going to need… all of you needed it in this moment and hope too.

You went back to camp and stayed around Dale in the RV. You couldn’t do much in the moment, so you’d better enjoy good company. You were talking with him, when you saw Glenn acting strange. You couldn’t tell how, but you could see in him that something was wrong. You decided to live Dale for a moment and approached the younger man.

“What’s going on?” You decided to be straightforward with him. “Don’t try to deny, it’s written all over your face.”

“I… I can’t tell you.” He said, so indeed there was a secret.

“Maybe, if you tell me, it’ll make you feel better.” You tried convincing him. “Is it about you and Maggie?”

“No, I mean… how do you know?” He denied fast, so probably it was bothering him, but wasn’t the main reason.

“I saw you two talking earlier and I see how you look at her.” It was obvious, even Hershel that was an old man could see that there was something between them.

“Yeah, something happened, but… I don’t know if it would be respectful to talk about it with a woman.” In which decade did he live? The 20’s? The Korean was really a gentleman.

“Well by what you said I can just assume that you had sex…” you hadn’t finished saying when he interrupted you afraid that someone would listen.

“Don’t say it, she’ll kill me if she discovers I told someone.”

“She won’t, I’m not telling anyone. Just be careful to not get hurt and to not hurt her, I don’t know how long we’ll be staying here.” You could see that something more were troubling him. “But it doesn’t seem to be the only thing in your mind.”

“If I tell you, you need to promise me that you’re not telling anyone, not even Rick!” He was panicking, but the secret was already eating him away.

“I promise, now spill it!”

“Lori’s pregnant.” He blurted it out.

“Fuck.”That was the only thing that came out of your mouth. Fuck. The shit just got worse and worse. ‘No fucking way that this kid is Rick’s’, you thought. It had been how long since you reunited? One week? Two? The chances were very low. Holy shit. At the same time you wanted to go to Rick and tell everything, you knew you could just get things worse if you did.

“You can’t tell anyone.” He pleaded.

“Now I don’t know if I thank you or if I regret for making you give me this information.” You were still shocked, but you were the one that pestered him to tell you what was wrong.

You let him go to the RV, but you couldn’t dare to go back. You needed to think about it. You went to the room where Carl was recovering and passed some time there thinking while the boy slept. You couldn’t even calculate the size of damage that would be caused when shit hit the fan, and you knew it would at any moment.

Later that day, you were in the kitchen helping Carol, Lori, Patricia and Beth to prepare the dinner to thank Hershel and his family. You sat on a chair, cutting some vegetables. Everybody had already come back, everyone but Daryl, and it was starting to worry you. He had a horse, by this time he should already be back. Damn, it was late… you were already preparing dinner. You were staring too much at the window and it couldn’t go unnoticed.

“He’s going to arrive soon. Don’t worry.” Carol said and it took you aback, you were not expecting anyone to notice your worry. “He’s the best of us in the woods.”

“I know, it’s just… it’s getting late. He should already be here.” You probably sounded silly, he had stayed out the night uncountable times back at the quarry, but here… here was different and you thought he’d not risk staying out late in a place he barely knew.

“You should tell him.” Lori spoke from the sink, where she was washing some fruits.

“What?” Where did she want to go with this?

“How you feel.” She completed, how you felt? You didn’t feel anything besides the urge of being close to him, and hold him and sometimes kiss him… ‘Well, you also should tell a bunch of things to my brother,’ you thought.

“Rick saw you kissing back at the CDC” you almost chocked with you saliva. The door was open. You fucking let the door open. “He got to the room talking about it and I didn’t know if the alcohol made him hallucinate or if he had actually saw it. Given your reaction… don’t worry, he probably forgot, he was too much drunk and he never talked a thing about it anymore. If he remembered he’d still be talking about it.”

“It’s not like this. Yeah, we kissed but we were drunk. We… we’re not like that.” You got up from your sit and was going to excuse yourself…

“I knew there was something about it. He was really protective at you back at the woods.” Maggie affirmed leaning on the door frame.

“You just say it because he was carrying me, because I was stupid enought to step on a bear trap. I already did everything I could here to help ladies, so I’ll excuse myself and see if I am of some use outside.” You excused yourself and got out of the kitchen the faster you could with your injured leg, your cheeks were burning and probably blushing too. It was nothing like that, why did nobody understand? And you were so afraid someone would tease him about it and then he would pull away from you and ruin what you had.

Andrea was in the roof of the RV taking watch and it looked like her and Dale had just got in a fight, again giving the sadness of Dale’s face. He always wanted the best for everyone and he for sure saw her like a daughter, but she couldn’t understand and would constantly have fights with him.

She spotted a walker coming out from the woods in the direction of the farm. She wanted to shoot it, but it would just waste ammo, everyone said they would go there and take care of it. You watched as they approached the thing, you couldn’t see much but they had stopped… when you heard a shot by yourside coming from the rifle Andrea was holding, you saw movement down there and you could swear you listened his name being brought by the wind. While they were getting around him to check, you started descending the hill, running, despaired. You tripped on a damn rock, a stabbing pain on your leg but you continued.

‘No, how could she shoot when everything was under control’, you could feel something suffocating you at the thought that he could be dead. They were bringing him, she didn’t hit. But it didn’t made her attitude less grave.

“It nicked, he’s not dead.” Shane said when you stopped mid track seeing them bring an unconscious Daryl.

You could listen Andrea approaching followed by Dale, giving a thousand excuses and you couldn’t just get it anymore. You were seeing red.

“What’s your problem?” You said after you jumped on her taking her to the ground punching her nose and already ready to throw another punch, she tried to deffend herself putting her hand in front, but it had already hit her, You didn’t even saw where. She scratched your face trying to protect herself. She pulled your hair, you pulled her hair. “Learn how to fucking listen the others! If some of us say don’t shoot, don’t shoot! You could have killed him!”

Soon you felt arms pulling you away from Andrea. “Release her hair Y/N” you listened Dale’s voice by your side. You started to listen voices again, you were so lost trying to give Andrea hell that your brain were just ignoring your surroundings. They had asked you to stop many times, but you didn’t listen to. The only solution was for T.Dog to pull you away from her. Dale suggested Glenn since you were friends, but the young man was frightened, he never saw you like that. “Y/N release Andrea’s hair.” Dale commanded again, very reluctantly you obeyed him, while T.Dog tried putting you as far as possible from Andrea.

“You’re crazy! I said I am sorry!” Andrea yelled getting up with the help of Dale. Her hair was all messed up, her nose was bleeding and you could see the black eye starting to show.

“And I don’t give a fuck in the same way you didn’t when you didn’t listen to the instructions you were given!” You yelled back, T.Dog still restraining you afraid that you would jump on her again. “If you had hit him, I would like to see you saying how much sorry you are! You’re so lucky he’s still alive.”

Andrea was going to reply you back, but was cut when Glenn appeared in front of you and pointed at your leg. “Y/N/N your leg is bleeding.”

You were so angry that you had stopped feeling the pain and you didn’t even notice that your hurt leg was bleeding and that you probably had opened some stitches. “Fuck.”

“Can I free you?” T.Dog asked afraid of letting you go. “You’re not going to attack Andrea again, are you? You need to have your leg seen by Hershel.”

“Fine. I’m not going to attack her, T.Dog. Bitch got what she deserved.” You were still furious, but all your senses coming back made you feel the real intensity of the pain in your leg.

T.Dog and Glenn helped you inside, it was very difficult to step right now, you probably hurt something else on your run to get to Daryl. Carol and Lori looked at you concerned, in all these years your sister in law had never seen you act like this. Patricia said the room where Hershel was at the moment taking care of Daryl and the boys took you there, since Hershel needed to have a look at you too.

When you entered the room, Daryl was already conscious, probably weak from the blood loss and he explained what he discovered to Rick and Shane while Hershel stiched the wound on his side. Daryl tried to cover his body that was exposed, but didn’t have much success since Hershel needed to give him stiches. They all turned to you noticing the mess you were and how T.Dog and Glenn had to support you.

“Done causing trouble?” Shane asked, they had seen the moment you jumped in Andrea, but they couldn’t stop their priority was to get Daryl to Hershel.

“You look horrible, no offense.” Daryl commented noticing your disheveled hair, the scratchs on your face and messed clothes.

“You should see Andrea.” You replied sarcastically, while Glenn put you to sit at the other side of the bed.

“She beat Andrea’s ass, T.Dog needed to split them.” Glenn explained. “We think some of her stiches opened, her leg is bleeding.”

“I probably hurt something else, because my foot is hurting way too much.” You stated resting your back at the headside of the bed.

“We’re talking about it later.” Rick told you and you rolled your eyes. He was your brother not your dad.

“I regret nothing, Rick. She can’t go shooting people and don’t receive any punishment.” If looks could kill, you’d have already died at least 5 times by Rick’s concerned pissed look at you. “And you’re my brother, not my dad.”

You knew he was already mad, but so where you and you were tired of him and Shane treating you like a child. You let them finish discussing Daryl’s discoveries and Hershel finish taking care of him. When Hershel finished with Daryl, he take a look at your leg, two of your four wounds had opened and your had a small torsion on your foot. Hershel said the torsion was going to be better by the next day if you rested how he recommended. He stitched your wounds again and prohibited you to do long walks. Of course, he couldn’t control you, but you knew that you should obey the farmer. Before leaving Rick came to you and you could swear he was going to give you a speech, but he didn’t. He curved, gave you a kiss on your temple and left.

“So… did ya kick Andrea’s ass for me?” Daryl broke the deafening silence in the room.

“Nah, that’s just my new hobbie. Kicking assholes’ asses.” You couldn’t hold the sarcasm. He knew it was for him and he just wanted to start a conversation, and you also knew it. “I was afraid that you died. You can’t die D.”

“I didn’t die, pup. I ain’t gonna die right now.” He looked at you and he could see your tearing eyes. “I’m not worth it, princess. Don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying, yet.” You defended yourself, you hated not being able to hide most your emotions. “You don’t see what I see Daryl, and for me… you’re worth it all.”

“Are ya high on painkillers?” He joked, he didn’t know how to deal when people said he wasn’t as bad as he thought.

“I wish, cause my leg is hurting like a bitch.” You laughed, but you knew it was his mechanism to deal with compliments. “I meant what I said.”

“I know, ya never lied to me.” He was honest, even though he was reluctant to believe he was any good, he trusted you and he knew you meant every word in the same way he believed he would see if you lied.

You continued having a conversation about trivial stuff. Soon you started to feel the smell of the food and it smelled deliciously, and to be honest you were hungry. After some time Carol knocked on the door and entered the room carrying a tray with 2 plates.

“Oh my God! Thank you Carol! I was smelling the food from here, and it smelled so good.” You said sitting up on the bed, she gave you a plate and you started eating happily.

Daryl didn’t move from where he was laying, Carol went to him and thanked him for everything he was doing for Sophia and of course for her, because of his incessant search for he daughter. She gave him a kiss on his forehead before leaving. You knew he wasn’t used to it, but you were glad that another person told him how good he was. Maybe, if you told it many times he would start to believe it. You finished your food and Daryl hadn’t touched his yet.

“You should eat, it’s going to get cold and you lost a lot of blood.” You said, he was laying in the bed covered by the sheets and facing to the other side. “I’m not going to look. You can eat comfortably.”

You turned your back to him and expected that he was going to use it to eat the food. You didn’t know he was so concerned about his body, you noticed it earlier today when he tried to cover while Hershel were taking care of him. It was just his chest, so there wouldn’t be any problem for you to see in normal situations. That was when you noticed he was concerned about people seeing his body.

You had seen his body before, he probably didn’t know, but one day he was changing his shirt and he thought no one was seeing, but you were and you couldn’t resist but watch. He was beautiful and all the scars he had just made you admire him even more. This was his story and it made him who he is. You chose to respect him, and some time after you listened the noise of plate and cutlery, and you were relieved he was finally eating.

When he finished and was settled again he let you know so you didn’t need to have your back turned to him. Later Carol came back to take the plates to the kitchen, you asked her to take care of Luna for the night. You let her tied all day and you didn’t want her to be alone. Carol agreed and she had to confess she would appreciate having a company for the night.

The rest of the night was calm, you talked very little and it didn’t take long for you to sleep, specially Daryl that was incredibly tired from all his day and everything he suffered. He even hallucinated about Merle that he had no idea where he could actually be.

During the night you moved around the bed a lot and at some time, Daryl woke up startled in the middle of the night. He opened his eyes and he saw you, and he thought he never saw you this close except the time you kissed at the CDC. That kiss, he couldn’t forget it and he didn’t want to. He never felt anything like that, no one he ever kissed or even slept with made him feel what he felt when he was with you. And seeing you this close again, made him think about all of this. You were so comfortable with him, one arm around his waist, your leg lightly tangled with his and he was surprised to see that his right arm was around you, holding you tightly against him. He was worried about having you so close, but he couldn’t dare to disturb your sleep or to push you away.

It took a little time for him to sleep again, but soon he did it. It was comforting to feel your hug and you warmth against him, even if there were the sheets between you. He hadn’t slept this well in ages, he can’t even remember the last time he had such a good sleep. So he decided to allow himself this little joy of a good and comforting sleep with you.

The next morning, Rick came to check on both of you and he was a mix of surprised and embarrassed by seeing the scene before him. He could see it was innocent, but either way he was taken aback with the situation. He cleared his throat and hoped both of you would wake up.

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