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peoniesnro · 6 months ago

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Perfect Partner | Sequel 1

Synopsis - You wake up in an unfamiliar apartment, next to your so-called AI boyfreind Jeongguk, only to realize you're trapped.

Paring- Jeon Jungkook × Reader

Genre- Yandere | Dark Romance

Warnings- Since you all told me that I can totally tag this under yandere, I'm going to do that. (Kidnapping/ Obsessive Love/ Jeon is delusional (He's a psychopath)/ Jeon is a sweet asshole/ Possesiveness/ Betrayal/ Infidelity/ Soft manipulation/ Toxic behaviours/ Reader is broken.) No smut for this part but it's going to be there in the future.

Word count- 9K

a/n- My initial plan was to write just a part two, but it ended up being too long. So, I decided to break it into a few chapters. This is the first sequel, and I'll write a prequel next to give you insight into what happened in the past. After that, I'll release another sequel to continue the story from here. (Hope you won't mind) And thank you sososossoooooo much for the love you've shown for Perfect Partner. (I love you all ❤️)

DON'T BLAME ME

This is the sequel, read the first part here -

Perfect Partner

Next part

Prequel

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stir awake slowly. Eyes remaining closed as your senses begin to return. And the first thing you become aware of is the way your head pounds violently. It throbs as though your skull might split open. A soft whimper escapes your lips.

Why are you in so much pain?

What the hell happened that you’re feeling such a severe headache?

You scrunch your face in a futile attempt to ease the pain. Another soft groan escapes you. And you make the grave mistake of opening your eyes. You open your eyes slowly and sensually. Feeling how heavy your eyelids are. But a sharp pain shoots across your head the moment a faint white light reaches your vision. This time as if a spear impaled your skull. Right between your eyes. That’s where the pain starts and shortly after your entire head is in an unbearable agony.

You whimper loudly before closing your eyes back. Mentally cursing yourself for trying to open them in the first place. Try to turn into your side in hope the pain would subside when a sudden voice reaches you. Making you freeze.

“Oh, you’re awake?”

A voice that is deep and baritone. Groggy and husky. Soothing and warm. Then you feel some movements. It all happens fast. The voice and the feeling of the mattress dipping next to you. You shoot your eyes open disregarding the pain. It’s a reflex. A strange sensation washes over you. A fear. Fear that’s so intense it numbs you. You don’t try to move or turn your head. Or you don’t get a chance to do so. Just as you open your eyes back, you’re met with someone. Blurry. Hazy.

“How are you feeling pretty?”

Pretty?

Your sight finally clears. Your eyes zero on a face.

Pretty………….

Hi pretty!

A voice rings in your head. Repeatedly. One word.

Pretty.

Fragments of memories start to flash in front of your eyes. Voices. Images. A man. An AI. Perfect Partner. Gifts. Hoseok. Fear. You can practically feel the same fear. Terror. Daebi’s birthday. Your apartment. Your phone- destroyed. A fight with a stupid AI character.

Stupid AI character!

Jeongguk. A sharp yet shaky breath lodges inside your lung, painfully. Jeongguk. Your perfect partner. An AI character who you’ve been so smitten over until you weren’t. Jeongguk. A perfectly coded program that knew exactly how to make you feel good. Jeongguk. That godly man with a tattooed hand and piercings.

Jeongguk….

Jeongguk…

Tattoos.

Piercings.

You blink at the brown eyes peering at you. A thin layer of sweat coats your entire body. The familiar yet excruciating fear engulfing you whole. Your eyes naturally wander over the strange face that keeps staring at you with wide eyes, faster than lightning. Brown eyes. Chiseled nose. Pink lips.

A Lip ring.

Your breath hitches in a bad way. You look back at his eyes. Eyebrows. One brow is pierced.

Piercings.

Jeongguk.

It’s ridiculous how your brain takes that much time to realize everything. To recover everything. To identify the person in front of your eyes who’s so close to you that you can feel his breath. Like a sudden slap everything registers inside your mind. And when it does, a loud alarm goes on inside your brain. Your sight turns blurry again as the terror makes your breath catch in your throat. Still you manage to let out a tangled scream as your flight or fight reflexes finally activate. You try to sit abruptly as a flash, hands coming to push away the person who is hovering over you. You really don’t have a plan. All you know is the urge to run away. Get away from this person who couldn’t be here in theory. He’s supposed to be a programmed character.

Yet he is here. And all you can do is try your best to run away. That’s your plan, which quickly turns into a failure when you’re pushed back into the bed before you could even sit back properly.

“Don’t- don’t move so fast.” His voice reaches to you as if it's coming from a distance. “You’ll get sick if you-” You try your utmost best. You thrash in his hold. Twisting your hands. Kicking your legs. “- Fucking stay still (___), you’ll worsen your headache.” He pins you down into the mattress. Gets on top of you in one quick movement. Holds your both wrists pinned above your head. His legs tangled with yours so you could no longer even move them let alone kick.

No. Oh God no! This isn’t happening.

Your tangled screams turn into muffled sobs. You absolutely hate how tears start to roll down your cheeks instantly. You’re showing weakness. And your body is growing weak alongside your mind. Yet still you try to move at least. It doesn’t work. The guy is ten times stronger than you. You can smell him. Something lavender. You can feel him. His breath. His weight. Everywhere. You feel sick.

“Please don’t.” You manage to croak out, finally. “Do-don’t. Let-let me..” Your own voice is unrecognisable to even you. Desperate. Pathetic. Helpless.

“Shh.. it’s okay princess. Calm down baby. Calm down.” His voice makes your skin prickle. Your muffled sobs turn into a wail. Despite how much you don’t like it, you start bawling like a child.

“Don’t touch me. Please don’t touch me. Let me go. Don’t-” You try to move one more time. Fail, yet again. “Don’t touch me.” Your body starts to shake. You watch how his eyes widen through your blurry gaze. “Le-let me go. Do-don’t touch please-” You feel his grip loosen. He takes a minute. Then abruptly gets off you. Sit back on his heels.

“Okay. Okay. Fuck. I’m not touching you. Don’t move too fast-”

You don’t give a fuck about what he says. The moment his hands and body are not on you, you jump into action again. This time you manage to sit back properly. Manage to get down from the bed you’ve been on. Manage to stand on your feet. Only just for a split second, however. Just as you stand up, your legs give up completely. Everything starts to go dark.Your body fails you entirely as you feel the way you start to sway to your left. You’d hit the ground any second now. But the impact never comes.

“Told you baby. You’re making it worse.”

You’re wrapped up in a pair of strong hands.

…………………………….

You lay in the silk comforters. Head propped up on two pillows. Soaked in your own sweat. Head violently pounding. Spinning. You’ve thrown up three times by now. Still you feel nauseous. There’s a metallic bitter taste lingering on your tongue. Your fingers feel numb. So do your legs. Everything feels like a nightmare to you. Nothing makes sense but you know it’s real. You woke up next to your AI character. Each and everything that happened to you was real. Your AI Jeongguk was real. And you’ve been kidnapped. He kidnapped you and now you’re a prisoner here.

The nausea intensifies tenfold at the realization. You’re trapped here. And you’re too weak to even consider running away. You tried and now look at you. Completely bedridden. It’s humiliating how your captor had to hold your hair back while you threw your guts out. Ridiculous how your captor was the one who carried you to the bed when you couldn’t make two steps without falling down.

Fresh tears start to roll down through your cheeks. You’re completely helpless and at his mercy. You want to be able to do something. To fight. Escape. What have you done in your previous life that you’re in this kind of situation? You twist the silk bed sheet around your fingers. Having no other way of unleashing your emotions. Anger. Despair. Fear. Sorrow.

The sudden sound of the door opening snaps you out of your melancholy. You instantly recoil in your spot. Back pressing into the mattress as you idly try to make yourself hidden from his view. Even closing your eyes shut as if it would help you to hide your shaking figure. Creating a false sense of protectiveness around you. It’s scary. Him. His place. Even his presence. It doesn’t matter how tidy and spotless this room is. How handsome he looks. How good he and this room smell. Nothing is enough to shake your fear away. You recoil even more as you hear his footsteps growing closer to you. Almost cover your face in the comforter when you feel his presence right next to you. Standing near the bed.

“Baby!” His voice is soothing. Warm and soft. Like the caress of a lover. If only that’s the case. You squeeze your eyes shut. Not wanting to look at your abductor. You hear him heave a heavy sigh. “C’mon, you need to eat something.” He mumbles. You keep your eyes closed. “Princess, you’re sick, and you need to eat something.” He repeats. And you feel your stomach churn.

Princess?

He acts like he cares about you with his whole heart and soul. Sick. He’s fucking sick.

Among all the emotions you’re feeling, you sense how anger rears its head above the rest.. You’re still very scared but you can't help but feel mad. What can go wrong anymore, anyway. You’ve already trapped here. So, you tilt your head to your side. Keep your eyes closed.

“Okay,” Jeongguk lets out an almost inaudible chuckle before you can hear him placing something on the nightstand. You guess it’s the food. Then you can feel him sitting next to you on the edge of the bed. Then silence. For a second, all you can feel is his presence. Then a sharp gasp leaves your mouth when you feel a rough hand on your face. Cups your cheeks. You open your eyes solely due to the fear at the same time Jeongguk turns your head toward him. Just like earlier, you’re met with his face so close to you. Instead of brown, glinting, innocent doe eyes, however, this time you’re peering into a pair of dark eyes that are shadowed by a dangerous dark cloud. Threatening and warning.

“You’re such a brat princess. I knew you were. Don’t be stubborn now,hm? You need energy. You need food,” Your breath hitch at his dangerous voice. Eyes starting to prick with new tears. Jeongguk’s features soften at that. “Look baby, I don’t want to hurt you. I’ll never hurt you. Won’t do anything to you.” He withdraws his hand. You immediately let out a breath of relief. Ignore the way his face tightens for a minute at that. But he fixes it immediately. “I won’t even touch you. See,” Shows his hands to you while he says that. “But,” Of course, there’s a but. “You need to be a good girl. Can’t have you die under my protection now, can we? That’s not why I brought you here. All I want is the best for you baby. So, don’t be stubborn now, will you? Just let me feed you.” He takes a tray from the nightstand, which is what he probably placed there earlier. “Let’s clean you up then and you’ll have a good sleep. Come morning, you’ll be all fine.” Gives you a soft and reassuring smile. His lip ring glistnes under the dim lighting of the room. “C’mon, sit up. Want me to help you?” Questions.

You just dumbly stare at him. How sweet he appears. How caring. And he always was. When you thought he was just a mere programme. Before he started controlling every movement of your life. Scared the shit out of you and ended up kidnapping you. Lied to you about a whole lot of things. Hell, your entire life is a lie. This sweet man in front of you is a lie. That smile is a facade. He’s a dangerous predator and you’re his prey. One wrong movement, he’ll break your neck. And you don’t want that. Despite everything, dying in his hands is the last thing you want.

You shake your head. You absolutely don’t want his hands on you. Even if it’s just to help you. You’ll use the last ounce of your strength to do things alone. So, you sit up with a great effort. He rushes to fix the pillow into a much more comfortable angle to you. You say nothing when he starts to feed you.

You’ll find a way out of here. Even though you have no idea where you are. You don’t even know what day it is or the time. There’s not a clock in here. You don’t know how long it has been since you were here. Missing from the outside world. Yet, you’ll figure it out. To do that, however, you’ll need your strength back. You convince yourself that’s the only reason why you’re greedily opening your mouth every time he brings the spoon near it. Nothing else. Not because the soup tastes heavenly and you’re starving. You don’t want his food. It’s just that you need strength.

……………………….

You didn’t want to comply with any of his requests. Or commands, you’ll say since none of them sounds like requests. He demanded that you eat. You did. He demanded that you bathe. You did. He demanded that you sleep. So, you did. Now when you’re awake, still lying on his comfy bed, he’s demanding you take some pills. You don’t want to do it. You don’t know what those pills are. And the longer you resist the harder his expression is turning.

He was beaming when you opened your eyes to find him sitting at the corner desk, staring at his computer. He seemed genuinely thrilled to see you awake again. But with every minute you refused to take the pills, his smile slowly faded. Replaced with a scowl and now he’s glaring down at you. You don’t like that look. A shiver runs through your spine.

“Now, what did I tell you princess?” He asks softly but you can hear the hidden warning.

“I-I’m f-fine. I- don’t w-want medicine.” You meekly try one more time. Jeongguk’s whole face turns grim. You don’t know what he’ll do. Panic floods your mind. You gulp harshly. You hate how you feel scared of this man. Paranoid. He hasn’t done anything except kidnapping you. Not yet anyway. He promised not to touch you and he hadn’t. He cooked for you, made sure you were clean, comfy, and warm. All of which are good things. But here you are afraid of him as if he’s the satan when he looks like an angel.

You raise a shaky weak arm up to take the pills in your hand. It’s not like he would drug you. You don’t know how he brought you here. Only things you can remember are the fear and your apartment. And his voice. The rest is dark. Maybe he drugged you then. Maybe hit you hard across your head. Or maybe it’s simply chloroform. But now though he has no reason to drug you again. You’re too weak anyway. And he himself told you that he doesn't want to cause any harm. You gulp down the pills in one go. Hoping it wouldn’t actually kill you. Look at Jeongguk expectantly. His expression doesn’t change a bit. But he simply nods and turns around to walk away. And your tongue betrays you before you can process it. His name leaves past your lips even without your knowledge.

“Jeongguk.” You mutter weakly. He halts. Turns around to face you. His expression is unreadable. You don’t know why you stopped him. So, you try to rake your brain for a good excuse when he saves you from the trouble.

“JungKook.” He states.

“Huh?” You blink at his face when finally his face softens. “It’s Jungkook pretty. My real name, it’s Jeon Jungkook.” He explains.

Oh!

Of course, he lied. Not that you care anyway. Why would you? You just nod in acceptance.

“Why?” You decide to ignore his disclosure. The question comes easily into your mouth. And Jeongguk- or now Jungkook looks genuinely surprised. You expect him to ask you to clarify the question. He doesn’t.

“Because I love you baby. I don’t want you to hurt anymore. Wanted to protect you. You’re safe here with me. Besides, you gave me no other option. You were becoming too stubborn and you lied to me. When I did my best, you lied to me baby.” Jungkook peers down at your figure on his bed. You feel new tears forming in your eyes again. You’re too tired. You can’t cry anymore. But you can’t help it either. Jungkook is talking about kidnapping you as if it’s such a normal thing. He reasons with you about how fair that is. He tells you that he did it because he loves you. He’s insane—completely and utterly insane.

“I didn’t want to scare you and bring you here this way. I had a plan. And you ruined it because you had to lie to me and go after your shitty friends and ex again. I had to do something before you hurt yourself again. I’m sorry I scared you baby,” He smiles softly again. You bite the inside of your cheeks to prevent yourself from crying. “But that’s okay now. You’re safe and I’ll make sure of it.” He turns around again. Leaves the room.

A fresh sob erupts from your throat.

You’re trapped with a psychopath.

…………………………..

It had taken a week. An entire week for you to recover from whatever agonizing sickness you went through. You couldn’t even move alone without Jungkook’s help, let alone thinking about running away. Yet you plotted your escape anyway. While you were resting on the bed for twenty four hours, you planned every miniscule detail of your grand escape. Until you end up with no plan on the seventh day where you are finally able to walk without his help. It’s not that your plans are stupid. No. Simply that each and every plan you come with requires a moment where Jungkook isn’t home. And after a close examination of a week, you realized that the chances of such a moment is likely zero.

The guy is always home. Every damn minute. You had waited until he’d finally go to work. He didn’t. Your best guess was that he works from home. That explains the amount of time he’s spending hunched over his computer. It’s surprising to you, how a complete computer nerd has that kind of body. Then you waited until he left the place for groceries or something. That didn’t happen either. And that makes all your plans futile.

Scary. The prospect of not being able to run away almost drains you out of your will to live. But you’re still hopeful. The opportunity might arrive anytime. Especially since you’ve gained your strength back again.

And you believe with your whole heart that people must be looking for you already. Daebi surely must have visited you the next day as she promised. You wonder if she has suspected anything right away. Maybe not. But still she must’ve tried to call you. You were friends for almost more than six years now. She knows you like the back of her hand. She would definitely know something is wrong. You guess she already did. Besides she knew you were paranoid about someone being in your place. Daebi is a smart woman and she must’ve picked up on the clues fast. You believe she has already paid a visit to the police station. You can imagine the ruckus she’s causing there. Demanding them to find you soon. See, you have hope. You know they’d come find you eventually. But still you won’t sit here prettily until that happens. You’ll try your utmost best to escape.

Besides, on the bright side, Jungkook hasn’t tried to harm you in any way. He has stuck to his promise and never even laid a finger on you. Except for the times he had to help you move around. And you didn’t protest at those times either since despite your strong will, your body didn’t comply with your mind. Other than that, the man has respected your wishes and your privacy fully. He hasn’t even slept in the same room as you. Somehow, you have managed to realise that it’s his room. But he has given it to you. You have no idea where he spent nights. Not that you care anyway. You really didn’t talk with him. He did. You listened. Or you didn’t do that either. Simply, you allowed him to ramble sometime while he fed you or helped you around. And as long as everything keeps happening in the same way, you can wait patiently until a perfect moment arises for you.

Yes. That moment will come and you will be out of here even before you know.

You give yourself a firm nod. Partially in determination and partially to brace yourself to do what you’re about to do. You place your hand slowly on the doorknob. This is the first time you’re about to step outside of this room. It’s not that you really want to do that. But firstly, you’re sick of looking at the same four walls for a straight week. Secondly, you need to have a better idea about the place you live in to be able to successfully escape. You haven’t seen Jungkook since this morning but you know he’s somewhere under the same roof as you.

You open the door slowly and quietly. Half expecting to stumble into a hidden trap or have something jump out at you. Nothing like that happens. You open the door completely and are met with a short hallway. Across from it you can see a living room. The entire place is eerily quiet. No sounds of anything except a distant buzz that you assume is a refrigerator. You slowly take a step forward. Then another. Still being very cautious of any sudden attacks. And make it to the living room without any hitch. His bedroom has looked lavish. You won’t lie. It’s comfortable and large. Even his bathroom is lavish. But now as you’re standing in his living room, you know certainly he’s rich. You don't know what his job is but for one thing, he must be earning six figures while working from home. Impressive. Perfect. Like how he portrayed himself in front of you. The Perfect Partner.

You let out a small breath. Taking in your surroundings. Minimalistic black and white interior. Comfy couch. State-of-the-art television. Everything looks lavish. You dart your eyes over every nook and corner, stopping in every detail until you spot what you’ve been looking for. The main door. Right across from you. You gape at the wooden barrier that keeps you hidden in this place. Isn’t it funny how it’s just a door and all you have to do is twist the knob? Aren’t you going to be free then? The temptation coils around your body like a serpent. Tightening painfully with every passing second. What would happen if you just started running toward that door? Just open it and break into a run for all that you are worth.

“I won’t even think about it, if I was you, pretty.” The sudden voice that comes from nowhere startles you so much that a yelp escapes your mouth. You whip around to find Jungkook casually standing behind you. How long has he been there? How come you didn’t hear anything? “It’s stupid and it could hurt you. You’re not even wearing proper clothes are you?” He adds while you stare at him with wide eyes.

“I-I-”

“It’s fine. I hope you’re not that stupid baby. You won’t break my trust again, will you?” Jungkook takes a slow step forward. You take one backward. He stops. “Will you?” Asks again. You shake your head almost instantly. Why the hell are you so afraid of this man? Well, you should be. Look where you are. “Good,” He smiles. That damn smile that makes his lip ring glistnes. That horrible smile that makes you shiver. Sweet. Sweet like venom. “I’ve been preparing you breakfast, wanna join me in the kitchen since now you can walk alone perfectly?” Raises his eyebrow in question. You take a moment. You don’t want to be near him. But you have to find a moment. An opportunity. You’ll not find it by scooping yourself inside his room. After a second of hesitation you nod.

………………………….

Days roll painfully slowly by you. Days spent patiently waiting for an opportunity that hasn’t arrived until now. Jungkook doesn’t leave his apartment just like you knew. He’s always there. He fascinates you at this point, truly. It’s like he possesses some secret powers to be able to do that. You’re wondering how he never faces any emergencies that require him to leave the place. Maybe that’s how unfortunate you are. Not getting the slightest of a chance to escape your luxury prison. And with every passing day, the light of your hope is growing duller and duller. You’re terrified of never getting a chance out of here. So you are afraid of anyone else never finding you ever again. It’s been more than two weeks since you've been here, but not a single person came ringing his bell saying they're here to check for a missing person.

The only people who rang his bell were the delivery men bringing his orders. Jungkook always made sure you’re out of their sight each time that happened. You don’t know why you obediently complied with him every time. Jungkook hasn’t done anything harmful to you until now. His promise is still going. Yet you find yourself terrified of him. All it takes is a scowl or straight face from him, you’re following his orders around like a little pet. You hate it. You hate yourself for being afraid of him. But for some reason you are. He may not have done any harm to you yet. That, however, doesn’t mean he’s incapable of that. There are millions of dangerous ‘what if’s going inside your brain every time you try to be a little rebellious. Which is the same reason why you’re reluctant to try on a new plan.

If Jungkook never leaves his place, that leaves you with only one option. Trying to escape while he’s still around. Extremely dangerous. If you succeed, then it’s fine. But if you don’t then that would be the end of you. You know for a fact that then Jungkook no longer would pretend to be the sweet boy he is. All starry eyes while he looks at you or the shy smiles. Sweet nicknames he uses for you or the innocent flirtings. They’d all drown under his anger and maybe he’ll break his promise then. Or he’d simply kill you. And for the record, you know you’re not a match for his strength if it ever comes to fighting him down. He’d definitely surrender you even before you properly start fighting. That leaves you hopeless. Helpless. Even the thought makes a lump form in your throat.

You swallow that lump as you focus on the man in front of you. Just happily fumbling around his kitchen like an innocent kitten. He truly does look like a bunny sometimes. Normal. Capable of deceiving anyone. Oh, how sick he makes you feel. Only if you could just hit him with something and run away. Maybe you can try. Can you? Are you capable of doing that? None of these would be a problem if he can just leave the place for a minute. Maybe he doesn’t trust you to leave you alone. Hell, he doesn’t even leave you to yourself when he showers. He made sure you’re locked inside a room while he used the guest bathroom. Not the room you slept in. And that room has a lock you’re incapable of finding how to unleash. He's a genius.

Smart motherfucker!

Well, then maybe you should play this smart. Pretend to like him. He surely acts like he’s so whipped for you. Maybe you can take advantage of that.

You perk up instantly. Now watching him with a newfound interest. He is in a white t-shirt and black slacks. His tattooed hand on display. His raven hair tousled after the shower he just had. Jungkook raises his head from the pot he’s been stirring. Probably sensing your stares. He gives you a soft smile. You try to reciprocate it but fail. You have no idea how you’re ever going to pretend to like him when your stomach churns whenever he’s too close to you.

He’s god damn handsome and that’s a given. Not even God himself would be able to argue. Jungkook is a piece of art. But still, he was the same person who put you through hell and now keeps you trapped here. And that makes him disgusting. You hate him. Completely. But you can’t let him know that. Right? You need to earn his trust. Then maybe he’ll leave you alone to yourself sometimes. Maybe he would trust you enough to not lock you in a room while he showers. So, you bite back the disgust you feel when he walks to you with a spoon in his hand.

He is making Sundubu Jjigae. Just because you said you wanted that for dinner when he asked. That’s the first thing that comes to your mouth. He brings the spoon to your mouth. You open your mouth without any reluctance. The rich broth invades your taste buds, almost making you hum in delight. You catch yourself just in time. He’s a very good cook, as you’ve come to know by now. See, he’d be a Perfect Partner if it wasn’t for the fact he's a psychopath.

You give him a nod in approval. “It’s good.” Mumble softly. You still don’t talk with him much. If you’re going to pretend to like him. Then that’d take so much work. Jungkook pouts.

“Good? That’s it? C’mon I need a perfect princess.” He walks back to the stove. “Should I throw it away and start over?” He looks at you. Eyes glinting. Yours go wide instantly. You straighten up in your stool. Head already shaking.

“No. No. I- I mean, it’s good. No- uh- it’s perfect Gu-” You shut your mouth immediately. Catching yourself. He’s not the Jeongguk you knew. And even if he is, you're not going to call him by nicknames. You feel nauseous. So much for pretending to like him. Jungkook’s face clouds by something grim for a minute before he smiles.

“Yeah?” Questions.

“Yes.” You confirm.

……………………………

You gaze out of the floor to ceiling windows of Jungkook’s living room. The night city bustles beneath you. According to your best guess, you’re at least fifteen floors high in this apartment building. That leaves you to imagine the ruckus it would cause you to reach the lobby if you manage to actually escape.

No, you shouldn’t think that way.

There’s no ifs. You’re going to escape and you’ll overcome every challenge as well. You shake your head to brush off any negative thoughts. You can always look at the bright side. At least he hasn’t taken you away from the country and your familiar city. That thought alone makes you feel a little at ease. There’s still hope. You let out a heavy sigh. Jungkook is playing a video game on his expensive TV behind you. You turn your head to take a brief glance at him. Just to make sure he’s still there. He sometimes walks around in the grace of a black panther. It always gives you heart attacks.

You look back at the outside again. Trying to imagine yourself walking among the thousands of people down there. Living a normal, busy life. Not someone’s personal amusement. You try to imagine freedom. The night air in your skin. You feel suffocated. Oh, how you wish to go outside just for a second. You’re really getting tired of this place. All you want is a one-

Your trail of thoughts get interrupted when you suddenly catch the reflection of Jungkook standing up through the window. You tense up like a bowstring, knowing very well he’d come to you. Just like you knew he lazily stalks toward you. Stands behind you. Closely. So closely that you can feel his breath on your neck. You force yourself to stay still.

If you want to pretend you like him, then you need to start somewhere.

“What is it, princess?” He mumbles sweetly. Eyes trailing past you to look at what you’ve been looking at. You almost shake your head to say it’s nothing. It doesn’t matter how bad you need to start somewhere, you don’t wish to engage in conversation with him much. It’s like a reflex. How you’re ready to run away from him. But you bite back the urge. You inhale deeply.

“Ca-can we g-go outside?” You blurt out before you can back out again. Jungkook’s eyes flicker to your reflection. Your eyes meet. “I- I mean with you of course. I- I feel like I’m getting cabin fever.” You breathe out. Jungkook says nothing. Just watches you intently. This is the most you’ve talked with him. He looks a bit surprised as well. He takes his sweet time. For a minute, it seems like he would say yes. Even a tiny bubble of hope builds inside you when it just pops out at his next words.

“I’m sorry, pretty, but no.”

You can’t help it. You absolutely can’t help how a sudden flash of anger washes through you. Weeks of frustration get to you all at once. You turn around to face him at light speed.

“Why not?” You grit your teeth.

“Because it’s not safe yet.” He answers calmly. If he notices the way your mood swings, he doesn’t show it. A strained laughter escapes you.

“When will it be safe then?” You question again. He doesn’t answer. And his silence makes you lose your patience. “You fucking can’t keep me trapped here forever Jungkook. You fucking can’t do this to me. You-” You feel your eyes prick with tears. “You fucking can’t treat to me like I’m your pet. I’m a person and- and why are you doing this to me?” You swear that you didn’t plan on crying. But the tears start to roll down as your voice cracks. Interrupted by petty sobs. “Why me?” You muffle your cries with your palm. Jungkook takes a tentative step back. Eyes wide.

“No, what?” Then he takes that step forward again. His hands grab you tightly by your shoulders. “Why would you ever think you’re trapped here (___), I already told you, I won’t do anything to harm you.” He squeezes your shoulders. In your overwhelmed state you just allow him. “I- oh, gosh princess, you’re not a prisoner here. What’s mine is yours. Consider this your home. You’re not trapped and you’re not a pet. Don’t twist things. You know I love you and I’d do anything for you.” One of his hands leaves your shoulder just to cup your face. Softly. He lifts your face upward to look at him. “Do you understand me baby? You’re not trapped.”

You blink your tears back. He’s so fucking sick. Look at the things he’s talking about. And you know showing him you’re weak isn’t going to be any help to you. You bring a shaky hand to place on his chest. Push him away weakly. He gets the hint. His hands fall limp beside him.

“Then why can’t I go outside? You brought me here without my consent Jungkook, that’s fucking kidnapping. And-” You inhale a shaky breath. You’re still very much afraid of him. But you’ll talk to him while you can. Before your fear will make you go back into your shell again. “You say you love me? After all the shit you put me through? Guess what Jungkook-” You feel the anger burning through you. “You don’t love me, you’re just sick and I fucking hate you!” You shout through the top of your lungs.

And it all happens so fast. The hurt slash across Jungkook’s eyes before they darkened with a dangerous gloom. Your words echo through the apartment before everything falls into a deadly silent state.

Then even before you know it, your back hits the glass behind you with a loud thud. Jungkook’s hand cupping your cheek so damn tight this time that an involuntary whimper leaves you. He turns your head so you’re looking dead in the eye with him. His body pressing against yours, completely caging you between him and the window.

“Take that back.” He growls. Is so close to you that you’re practically sharing one breath. His breath tingles your face. “Take that fucking back (___).” He shakes your face. His grip is too tight. You don’t know why you’re crying now. Is it because of the tight grip or the fear? Your body instantly turns limp. Useless. “You don’t mean it. You don’t hate me. Take it back.” Jungkook’s dangerous grumble turns into a shaky, breathless whimper. “Please.” You look at the hurt in his eyes with teary eyes. Your heart beating in your throat and your entire body trembling. You had thought he hit you or something. But now when the situation makes sense to your brain, you’re desperately trying to calm down. Not to die from a heart attack. “Take that back baby, please.” He pleads again. His tight grip on you, however, is a stark contrast to his pleading words.

“I-” You don’t know what you should say. You’ve ruined your plan even before you start it. You’ve said you hate him. Now your chances to gain his trust will be zero. There’s no reason to pretend anyway. You brace yourself to keep talking. Disagree with him. Consequences be damned. “You wouldn’t do this to me if you loved me, Jungkook.” Despite your best efforts, your voice comes out shaky. “If you really care, you would let me go.” You’re trying to persuade him. There’s a slim chance that it’d work. “I need to live a normal life. I-” Your words get cut off when Jungkook suddenly chuckles. He rests his forehead against you.

“Yeah? And let you go after your shitty ex again. And watch him break your heart all over again?” His grip finally loosens. He starts caressing your cheek with his thumb, instead. Surprisingly, you find yourself a little bit less disgusted. “No thanks baby. I won’t go through that hell again.” He breathes out. You close your eyes shut when you feel that breath on your lips. “It’s funny, actually. How you never saw what you have. We’re not that different. We both always wanted what hurts us the most. You never saw how I always loved you. Then you ask me why I did it? I did it because you won’t see it any other way. I just love you so much I’ll do it all over again, if I have to. I won’t just accept the defeat this time and watch you go after some loser just to get your heart broken again baby. No. Not again.”

You shoot open your eyes.

What did he say?

Again?

Always loved you?

What does he mean, again? How long has he been knowing you? A new fear makes you shiver. A sense that there’s more to this than meets the eye engulfs you. You want to question him about that. But something tells you that you will not like the answers. So, you keep quiet when he finally withdraws from you. He wipes your tears away.

“I’m sorry it had to be like this princess, but I have no other options.” He steps away from you completely. “If you hate me, then I won’t mind. You’ll learn to love me one day too. Until then let’s see how things go.” He turns around. Then stops. “When the time is right, I’ll take you out. A date maybe.”

……………………..

You stopped trying to do anything again. No more requests. No trying to pretend because you know you suck at that. Just cautiously watching him. Letting days pass by. With no opportunity to do anything except to keep yourself as far away from Jeon Jungkook as possible. Until today. This very moment.

You perk up as a knock comes on the door. It’s just another lazy but alarming day of watching him cook for you. Jungkook stops chopping cabbage. He already knew the delivery was coming. You eye him wearily as he washes his hands, gives you a soft smile and leaves the kitchen. Even these kinds of short moments give you solace. You almost drop your head into your palms when you suddenly notice it. The sleek black device on the kitchen counter. Jungkook’s phone. You straighten up immediately.

Among your many plans, trying to call someone always has been a first. Only that you never got a chance. You haven’t found any device that you can use for communication except for his phone. And obviously he keeps it with himself. Every damn time. Even when he showers. Today, however, is an exception it seems. You eye the phone on the kitchen island. Your heart beats in your throat.

He has forgotten it for sure. He doesn't allow chances for you to try anything funny. Hell, at this rate you’re sure you won’t even get a chance to escape even if he leaves you alone in this apartment. You know he’d lock you inside that damn room with that smart locking system. Jungkook controls that shit with his mobile. You know he has installed that lock in that specific room just to keep you inside. All the other rooms and doors are normal. You’ve seen it. Even the main door is normal. You know it requires a password to enter but you can freely walk out. Like a normal door would.

Maybe this would be the only chance you get. You can call someone. Or text someone. Jungkook has just gone to open the door for another delivery. But it’ll take some time. If you hurry- it’s just enough time. You lick your dry lips. Your head is pounding with indecision.

Oh, you have to at least try.

You need to do something. Being a prisoner here forever isn’t an option.

Time is ticking and you’re losing your precious opportunity.

You slide down from the stool as you slowly make it toward the phone. Your ears are ringing. Cold beads of sweat start to appear on your forehead. Your breathing comes out as shallow pants. You stand still before the phone.

There it is. Just a lifeless device. It won’t start screaming when you grab it. All you have to do is just call someone quickly. You throw a nervous glance to the doorway. He isn’t here yet. But he would be any minute.

You need to fucking hurry!

You grab the phone at almost light speed. Throwing caution to the wind, you press the power button, revealing the lock screen. You swipe the screen. In a blind hope that it wouldn’t be password protected. A disappointed sigh leaves you when the screen changes for password input. Of course, who were you kidding? He has a smart locking system and you thought he wouldn’t add a password for his device? How stupid can you be?

A low curse slips through your lips as your brain starts to run a mile a minute. Swirling around different possibilities as to what could be his password. You’re at a loss. You know nothing about him. Almost three weeks with him yet you never even bothered to know anything about him beyond his name. You don’t know his birthday. Age. You don’t know about his family. Anything that could lead you up to a possible guess. You groan as you force your brain to come up with something.

His age? Do you know that? Have you ever knew it? You wander through your memory lane. Maybe you could find a hint if you think about your time with him before this. When you thought he was just an AI. His bio. He obviously lied to you about his name but what about his age. He had that on there. It takes you a split second to remember it. You can clearly remember he was older than you. And you think you can recall his age as well.

Yes, that’s it.

The combination requires four numbers and you guess it’s the year. You do a quick calculation in your mind.

1997

You enter the numbers with trembling fingers, praying to god that it’d be the right one.

Password incorrect!

You clutch the phone tightly. Almost enough to crack it with your bare hands. Your blood roars inside your ears. Drowning all the other sounds. You glance at the doorway again. He isn’t here again. One more time. One more chance. Even tears start to prick at your eyes as you torture your mind for something. Something that he likes. Sure, you must’ve seen something. Anything. You live with him for fucks sake.

Something that’s valuable to him.

Something he lov-

Your eyes go wide. It sure can’t be right? You know something very precious to him.

You!

You let out a breathy exhale as you frantically start to enter your birth year into the keypad. You’re 99.9% positive that this wouldn’t work.

It does. The moment you type the last digit the phone unlocks.

Wow! He really is crazy. That familiar fear tugs at your guts. You have no time to dwell on that, however. There’s more pressing matters at hand. You open the phone application frantically. You can call the police. You can call one of your friends. The best option is to call the police. But you feel hesitant. What if they don’t trust you? You don’t know where this mistrust about the law comes from. In the end, you opt on dialing one of your friends. And without a doubt it’s going to be Daebi. Not that you remember other people’s numbers anyway.

You dial on Daebi’s number. Your fingers are shaking and your breath is getting caught in your throat every now and then. Same chant or prayer going through your mind.

Please don’t let him come now. Please don’t.

You enter the final number and mindlessly hit the dial button. It takes a millisecond for the screen to change into the calling page. Then it does.

A capital ‘D’ pops up on the screen. A saved number. You squint your eyes in annoyance. Did you get the number wrong? You have no time for this. You hang up the call immediately before dialing it again. Wait. The same ‘D’ pops up again. This number is saved on this phone.

No. That can’t be.

How and why would Jungkook has Daebi’s number on his phone. Maybe you have jumbled your memory and this isn’t her number. You feel a shiver run through your spine. This can’t be. You should try again. You hang up the call once more. Start entering it over again.

“What are you doing?”

The voice booms through the kitchen. You jump on your spot before the phone slips through your fingers at the unexpected sound. You hear a faint clank as your wide eyes turn to Jungkook. Standing at the doorway. Some grocery bags in his hand. He assesses you for a minute before storming toward you. That dark cloud envelopes him whole as you watch him drop all the bags on the counter. Rounds the table to reach you. You just stand there rooted to the floor by fear. “What the fuck were you doing (___),” He shouts. Bends down and grabs his phone, which is still unlocked. “Who the hell did you contact?” He barks. Frantically going through his call history.

A beat passes.

You watch how his expression instantly calms down.

That can’t be.

He gives you a sympathetic look.

That isn’t Daebi’s number.

Jungkook sighs. “You shouldn’t do dumb things pretty. It always ends up hurting you.” Clutches his phone tightly. “I already told you that I’m trying to protect you. But you’re still trying to betray me? You’re still trying to be that ungrateful bitch? You think your stupid friends give a fuck about you?” He takes a step toward you. His jaw clenched. You stay still. Your head spinning and your mind wandering between his words and all the possibilities as to how he has Daebi’s number. It can’t be her number. It isn’t. “How stupid you are baby. How fucking stupid are you? You could’ve called anyone, the police, someone else, but you decided to call your bitch of a best friend.” A throaty laugh escapes him. You tremble visibly. Well, you fucked up and maybe you won’t get any chance to know what’s actually happening. Jungkook would kill you before that.

Still, though, you stay rooted in place as he closes the remaining few inches between you. Not because you’re not afraid anymore. But because it’s all too much for you to give a reaction. The only thing you’re capable of doing is gasping when he suddenly grabs your wrist.

“I really didn’t want to harm you princess. When I say I’ll never cause you any harm, I meant it. But since you’re a stubborn bitch, maybe a little heartbreak and some truth will do you good.”

That’s all he says before turning around and starting to walk away. Dragging you with him. You protest weakly but without a doubt he wins.

…………………….

You sit in his gaming chair. Slightly trembling and staring blankly at his computer screen. You actually don’t give a shit about what he has to show you. Something inside you is telling you that whatever this is, it isn’t going to be good. Yet, despite your protest Jungkook leans forward over your shoulder and clicks on a file. A video file to be specific.

“I never wanted to show this to you.” He whispers in your ear. You say nothing. Just sit there stupidly watching the screen change into a sight of an unfamiliar room. Jungkook doesn’t withdraw to give you your personal space. He just stays there. You ignore his presence as you pay your jumbled attention to the screen. For a couple of minutes it’s just a still image of a room. You almost become convinced that it’s really a picture when suddenly a door to the left of the room opens. You furrow your brow as you catch a woman entering the room, her face isn’t completely visible. And the quality of the video is really shitty.

Yet you feel the hair on the back of your neck stand. An urge that something bad is about to happen lurking inside your stomach. Gut feelings.

The woman fumbles around the room. Her face is still not visible to the camera. But even from the back and with the shitty quality you think she’s familiar. Very.

You know her.

Right at the clue, she turns around. Her eyes directly land on the camera. You let out a painful breath.

Daebi!

You feel your heart squeeze. It hurts but at the same time a fleeting sense of comfort washes over you at the sight of a familiar face. Only until she turns around toward the door again, though. Only until a second figure enters the frame. A man. He doesn’t fumble around. He looks at Daebi the moment he enters and you see his face right away.

If you thought it hurt to see Daebi, your whole world collapses the moment you see the man.

Hoseok!

No.

Even before anything happens, you understand it. You feel an overwhelming urge to scream through the top of your lungs. To grab something and smash the computer into pieces. You don’t though. Are too stunned to be able to do anything. You can’t even look away. Not even when Daebi walks to Hoseok leisurely. Not even when Hoseok grabs her waist, flattening her against his chest. You keep watching when he lowers his head to catch Daebi’s mouth in a searing kiss.

No. Please God no. This can’t be right.

But it’s unfolding in front of your eyes. Their kiss turns heated quickly. Hoeseok’s hand slips from her waist to her ass. He guides them toward the bed.

No. Not Daebi. Daebi won’t do this to you. Hoseok would, yes. But not Daebi.

“This is- this..” A sob interrupts whatever you're trying to say. “It’s fake. You- you..” You don’t know what you’re talking about.

“You still don’t believe that, after everything? Even when you have the proofs” Jungkook sighs. You shake your head violently.

“You forged it. Y-you- oh, c’mon,” You chuckle between your cries. “You created a damn app to lure me into your trap. You’re a fucking genius. Of-of fucking course you edited this.” Yes, that’s exactly what happened. You nod weakly, desperate to convince yourself. Jungkook says nothing for a while. But then all of sudden he places his phone on the table. Your eyes flicker from the errotic scene of your best friend and ex- boyfriend making out on a bed to his phone screen. There’s an outgoing call.

Oh, you know what he’s doing. And you want to throw the phone away. You shouldn’t let him manipulate you. This all is his doing. The video. This call.

“Hello!”

You slightly jump on your seat when the unexpected voice reaches you through the phone. No one says anything.

“Hello? Kook?” Oh, you can recognize that voice anywhere. She is your best friend after all.

“Hello D.” Jungkook finally answers her. You slump in your seat. Feeling all your energy leaves your body.

“What the fuck man. You promised me you will never fucking contact me again. Why the hell are you calling me?” Daebi hisses. Jungkook gives a soft chuckle.

“Oh, it’s just that uh…” His eyes move to your shaky figure. “Your best friend here wanted to say hi.”

“What?”

Jungkook taps your shoulder. You don’t want to do that. There’s no reason. But somehow you hear your own shaky voice come from a distance.

“D-daebi?” It’s pathetic and desperate. Still hangs into a loose thread of hope.

“Shit!” Daebi curses aloud. Her voice is sharp and panicked. That loose thread of hope breaks. You just gape at the phone screen.

“Are you happy to hear from you bestie D?” Jungkook asks again. With a mockery tilt in his voice. You don’t know whether Daebi answered his question. Probably not. Because before anything, you hear a second voice.

“Baby, who’s it?” Another voice that you’ll recognize anywhere. How can you not when you have loved him with everything.

Hoseok.

And the line disconnects.

All that is left is despair. Disappointment. Disbelief. And pain. Pain everywhere. It hurts everywhere. Every breath you take, every inch of your skin, every heartbeat, it all hurts.

You can’t believe it.

But it is the truth.

You can’t control your cries. Can’t stop the gut-wrenching sobs tearing from your throat. Even start to rock yourself. Wrap your arms around your body. You need a little comfort. Otherwise you’ll die from this pain. That’s why you don’t complain or protest when Jungkook suddenly pulls you onto your feet. Just for him to sit back and drag you into his lap. You just allow him to manhandle you as you immediately curl into a ball in his lap. Hide your face in his broad chest and your fist bunching up on his t-shirt. You allow him to wrap his arms around you and rock you softly.

“I know princess, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you but you deserve to know the truth. I always tried to protect you. I’m so sorry.” He draws soothing patterns on your back. You feel his lips on your crownline.

“It’s fine, I got you. You’re going to be safe. I’m not letting you go this time.”

…………………………..

At Daebi’s place

“Who was that?” Hoseok plops next to his girlfriend on the couch.

“No one. Just another spam call.” Daebi sighs. Her face is completely pale. Hoseok takes a minute to study her expression.

“Yeah?” He mumbles. “Are you okay?” Questions just to be sure. Daebi gives him a soft smile before leaning her head against his shoulder.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just… you know how it is..”

Of course, he knows. He and Daebi always lived in a constant loop of guilt. If only either of them had found the courage to tell you earlier, when they started falling in love. Then nothing like this would’ve happened. Hoseok thinks it’s cruel how he or Daebi never got a real chance to apologize to you. He really had thought maybe he would get that chance when he last saw you at Daebi’s birthday. But no. His life is too cruel to allow him such easy chances. Now that you’ve vanished into thin air, no one can say if he’ll ever get that chance again.

It’s almost nearing a month and there’s not a single clue about you. Nobody has seen you after Daebi’s birthday. All of your friends confirmed that. And considering how they all agreed upon that you weren’t been mentally strong lately- which is entirely his fault- police have a fat suspicion that you’ve taken your own life.

But Hoseok refuses to believe it. And even though Daebi doesn’t voice it out, he knows that she doesn’t believe it either. You’re safe, and sooner or later someone will find you. He knows that.

“Yeah, I know baby.” Hoseok plants a soft kiss in her hair. “She’s alive and safe. You don’t have to worry, we’ll find her.” Reassures.

He completely misses how his girlfriend’s face grows even paler.

……………………

a.n- Let's meet with a prequel soon!!!!!!! (And loads of smut *wink*)

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Taglist- @yunhoswrldddd @rjooniesdimples @ttanniett @targaryenluvs @winchesterkenzie @miniesjams32 @bookstoread199 @smokinghotstargirl @likemeforme @sunshinenmidnight

#bts #bts smut #smut bts #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #bts mini series #bts angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook bts #jungkook angst #yandere #yandere bts #bts yandere #jungkook yandere #bts fanfction #bts fanfic

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cheralith · 6 months ago

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childhood bestfriend!kaiser who specifically always demands his managers to reserve a spot for you at every single one of his games.

you always go to support him, with him insisting he needs you there as some sort of “lucky charm” (he won’t actually admit he thinks those superstitions are bullshit), so imagine his shock when he finds out that your seat is empty on the day of one of the most important games of the season—the game that will decide who gets to compete in the german cup.

it’s ten minutes before the game starts and despite his coach’s pep talk to the team, all kaiser can focus on is your empty seat and the absolute betrayal you’ve bestowed upon him, your supposed “best friend.”

he hasn’t realized it—nor will he admit it if he ever were to come to such an epiphany—stubborn as he is, but the reason as to why he does so well in games that you’re present at is because of the fact it gives him more motivation to win and impress you rather than just solely being dependent on the faces of despair from his opponents. a unique sort of euphoria that he gets whenever he can spot you jumping up and down in your seat with his number #10 jersey on, that your praise belongs to him and him only.

so when he steps out on to the field and sees that your seat is still collecting dust, he seethes silently to himself, gritting his teeth, pissed that he even called you his best friend to begin with. because what sort of friend doesn’t show up to one of the most important games in germany’s football?!

he’s still planning to win, of course. he’s michael kaiser—he’s famous for doing so. and he plans to use all his rage that you’ve caused to do so, just in spite of you.

because he’s michael kaiser, number ten of bastard mündchen. he doesn’t need your help. he never did.

(see, what he doesn’t know is that you’re simply home sick with a cold and that you’re still dressed in his jersey, just also with a sweater and bundles of blankets on top to stay warm, but regardless, you’re still watching and cheering him on from behind the tv screen. you’ve sent him some texts and voicemails telling him so, but none have received a reply back yet and you can only imagine what this drama queen has in store for you once he wins the match.)

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riseriseleo · 7 months ago

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do you ever think about how tim really didn't have friends in research.

(from @trans-jon-rights thanks for the pic max <3)

i think tim was hard to talk to. but not hard in the way that he joked too much. no, in the way that he was standoffish and short with people. he had a goal, a drive, and he couldn't let anyone or anything distract him.

(cough buried tim drowning under grief cough desolation tim prepared to burn the world down cough lonely tim who has no one at all and barely had danny before he disappeared cough i could go on)

sasha was the one who drew him out of his shell. who took him out to the bar, to loosen up. she became his single spot of light in the dark cave that he was lost in.

and then jon, who was a little too much like him that it kind of jolted tim out of the headspace. he ate lunch with jon, they helped each other with research, they grew close ish. tim is the only person who knows about georgie.

and then jon got promoted and sasha didn't and he was just a little bitter towards jon. jon is still his friend, so he tried to hide it behind jokes and a smile, because he's gotten back into the mindset of 'humor to cope', but still.

and then sasha is gone and jon is Becoming and danny is—and the circus—

and then nothing, because tim is no more.

#the magnus archives #leo angsts tma #tim stoker #tma #angst #jon sims #i have a bunch of these on discord lol #mini analyses or whatever #timothy stoker #smirkes 14 #sasha james

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catientringer · 2 months ago

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A little looksie into my season 6 headcanon🤓🐒

#shadowpeach #macaque #sun wukong #lmk fanart #lmk #lego monkie kid #mini comic #fan comic #fanart #angst #lmk season 6 #lmk nine headed demon #lmk xiangliu

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peaktora · 28 days ago

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𝐄𝐗 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓 ˚◞♡ ⃗ satoru gojo

𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 ┊you and your ex know each other best. and even after your breakup, your ex remains the first person you want to contact when something bad happens.

𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 ┊2.5k words. plot was inspired by @/creativewritingprompts on tumblr. if it wasn’t clear, satoru’s your ex boyfriend and he’s absolutely whipped.

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚.┊for 30 mins i had to actually do research just for this oneshot .. everyone clap it up ! you learn smth new everyday

by the way, it’s been what, a year since i’ve posted a fic? man time goes by. forgive me with this beauty

at first, satoru barely registers the buzzing of his phone. he thinks it’s part of a dream—some annoying background noise bleeding in. but after what he assumes is two whole minutes, the sound doesn’t stop.

he groans, pushing his head further into his pillow as if that’ll make it go away. it doesn’t.

with a sigh, he throws out an arm to his nightstand, blindly groping everything in reach. his fingers brush against a bottle but by the time he realizes that’s what it was, it was already tipping. of course. just his luck. he helplessly listens as it hits the floor.

“god,” he mutters to no one, huffing out a breath through his nose.

his hand continues searching until it finally gets ahold of his phone—one that is still vibrating. he drags it to his ear. he’s not even sure he pressed the right button before he mumbles, “hello? who ‘s this?”

from the other end of the phone, he hears the rush of traffic—cars speeding by, horns blaring. he winces at the noise, then blinks slowly at the screen. it takes time for his eyes to adjust to the light, but when they do, the words ‘no caller ID’ glare right at him. he sighs, lifts the phone back to his ear, and now a little more alert this time, asks, “hello?”

it doesn't get him a response. from the other side of the line he could hear a few noises, ones he couldn’t decipher. satoru has always been one for pranks but if this was a prank, he wouldn’t be a happy participant. hell, do they see how late it is?

he sighs, “hello?” he tries again. yet, no answer. frustrated, he runs his free hand across his face, “look, it’s too late for all this. whoever this is, listen, i don’t have time for games. calling people at two in the morning isn’t some fucki—“

he said this to get an answer, so he could finally go back to bed. but what cuts him off makes a part of him hate himself for saying it at all.

the words that come through are barely more than a whisper, muffled and shaky, yet there’s no mistaking who they belong to. it’s a voice he hasn’t heard in months, but the moment it reaches his ears, it instantly makes his throat grow dry. it’s achingly familiar. the vibrations, the way the words rolled off the toungue, the way they were uniquely pronounced—he couldn’t forget it. how could he forget it?

he was so busy in his head that he failed to properly process your words. “i’m sorry, what?” he asks.

“satoru… im serious, alright? i’m not joking. i didn’t even want to do this because i know we’re not on speaking terms—and you—okay—i’m sorry for waking you up in the middle of the night, but… i just—i really need your help.”

a knot forms in his stomach. he recognizes that tone all too well—the tremor in the voice, the hint of desperation—the fear. all signs of a persons breaking point.

someone on the verge of tears. while he would be concerned about anyone having that tone, he’s even more concerned when he knows the owner of it is you.

at the realization, he sits up, voice gentle as he murmurs, "hey."

you left out a long breath before saying, "hi.”

“what’s going on?”

“alright, so," you begin and satoru genuinely tries to listen. he’s hanging onto every stutter, every inhale and exhale. but as your words continue to come through the phone, they begin to mush together. then, a change in your voice grabs his attention. the once steady rhythm of your voice is now replaced by soft sniffles and tremors.

he swears that even now, your cries will be the death of him.

his words pour out in a rush, "hey, hey, i'm here. it's okay, i'm here. okay? i'm here, sweetheart." the nickname rolls off his tongue so naturally, and he hopes you find it comforting instead of bothersome. "but i need you to take a moment and breathe so i can understand what you’re saying ‘kay? to help you, i need to know what's going on."

you sniffle and he hears the sound of a car door opening and closing. he hears shifting, and he knows that if you saw him leaned over his phone right now, desperately straining to hear something—anything, for a explanation, you'd laugh.

god, he wishes he could make you laugh right now.

“you still there?” he asks.

"yeah," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. you sigh, "i know i said it earlier but ‘m sorry for waking you up."

“i was already awake.” it’s a clear lie and he knows it. he even knows that you know it. but for the sake of the situation, you both choose to ignore the comment.

you clear your throat before explaining, "my car broke down on the side of the road, and, well—i don't know what to do." the sound of your laugh fills the silence, but it’s not the joyful kind that satoru craved. it was almost pitiful. "i remembered you're good with cars, so i thought, y’know—hey, maybe satoru could help me out."

fuck.

hurriedly, satoru throws the sheets off himself. he rushes off the bed and puts the phone on speaker, "where are you right now?" he asks, setting the phone on his nightstand. suddenly, the room around him is a blur of movement. he throws on a random pair of sweatpants from the floor before grabbing his wallet.

“im pretty sure i’m on Highway 121… just a few miles outside of town. its pitch black out here, and id be lying if i said i wasn’t a little scared. if i even say out loud that i’m alone, i think i might just have a panic attack.”

he snatches his phone from the nightstand and rushes down the stairs to the front door, "alright, i’m coming. just stay where you are, and i'll get there as soon as i c—shit."

“you okay?”

"yeah, i just forgot ab—well—it doesn't matter," he adds, running back upstairs to get his keys. "just stay right there, promise i’ll be there as soon as i can."

“i mean, not like i’m going anywhere,” you snort. “can’t teleport, and my car decided to die on me, so…not going anywhere fast.”

“you could always walk home,” he teases. “get some steps in.”

“oh, right, so i can get kidnapped? that’s your plan? yeah, bet you’d love that, huh?”

his voice drips with mockery, “you gettin’ snatched up would ruin my night. who else do you know that’ll call me at this time just to give me a chance to show off?”

it’s been months, but he still knows you. both how to get under your skin—and make you smile. even without being able to see you, he knows you’re fighting against the twitch of your lips that so badly want to twist into a smile.

“a real tragedy,” you say, tone flat and deadpan. it’s a useless effort, because he catches the underlining pleasure you feel in your voice.

the silence that follows hangs in the air for much longer than satoru expected.

he clears his throat. “‘m on my way. or, actually not just yet—“

he’s cut off by the long, deep groan that give him.

“jus’ give me 5 minutes okay? need to grab some tools..keep your hazards on so other people can see you. let’s prevent an accident today, yeah?”

“i will,” you say, and he hears the soft click on the other end. “just don’t be swerving on the road. i know you’ll be in a rush to get to me, but you can’t be my hero if you crash on the way.”

“and what makes you assume that i’d be risking my life just to get to you, hmm?”

“because i’m stranded. alone. on the side of a creepy highway.”

“you’re not really alone. in theory, i’m there. right there in your heart.”

you groan, “ugh, you’ve always been so corny.” but you can’t help laughing.

he smiles at the sound, happy that at least one goal was accomplished.

it's quiet for a moment. just the clanging of his tools filling the call until he calls out your name.

“yeah?” you reply.

“you okay?”

“yeah i’m fine…and satoru?”

“hm?”

“thanks for still showing up for me.“

he’s glad you can’t see him right now—especially with the way he’s smiling like a complete idiot. “‘s nothing,” he says, trying to sound casual. “you don’t have to thank me.”

there’s a quick shuffle on your end, then your voice, quieter now, says “alright, well… i’ll see you soon, yeah? bye—”

“woah, woah, what are you doing?”

“…hanging up? i did say that i’ll see you soon.”

he hesitates, chewing his lip before murmuring, “just… stay on the line.

“what—“

“stay here with me on the line, c’mon now it’s a safety precaution.”

“my phone won’t even last another 15 minutes. it’s on eleven.“

“i’ll make sure to be there in 10. but i need you to stay on the phone with me until i get there, ‘kay? i need to know you’re safe.”

he hears you shuffling around once more, but you don’t give him a response. it’s only when he calls out your name that he hears a, “fine” from you. “but if you’re not here by the time my phone says—what? 5 percent? i’m calling the tow truck people to pick me up.”

he laughs, “deal.“

true to his word, satoru shows up in ten minutes on the dot. granted, he completely ignored your advice—swerved down every street he could and definitely didn’t take it slow because if he did, it would’ve took him 20 minutes to get there and no 10. so instead, he sped down the shoulder in silence, driving like he had something to prove. illegal? yes. reckless? absolutely. but he made it.

he spots you before he spots your car. at the sight of his own car, you get out and lean against your car hood. you cross an arm over your chest, and gaze at the cars speeding past.

before he turns off his car, he gives himself a quick look in the rear view mirror and runs a hand through his hair, giving it a light fluff. nothing too fancy, just enough to look more put together. besides, first impressions matter—and while it wasn’t his first time meeting you, it was the first time he’d seen you in a while.

as he steps out of the car, he tugs a little tighter at his jacket. it cold, he notes.

“ten minutes,” he smirks as he approaches you. “i should get a medal or something.”

you turn his direction, giving him a look over. “you just don’t listen, huh?” a light smile makes its way across your face. “pretty sure you broke, like—three laws to get here.”

he shrugs. “emergencies don’t care for the laws.”

you hum. “i guess not.”

there’s a pause before he says, “you look gorgeous.”

fuck. it slips out before he can think better of it—too soft, too real. he watches as your eyes flicker to the ground, like it might offer you an escape route. you don’t answer—not really—and that silence hurts more than a shutdown. it twists something low in his chest, because if you were going to say he shouldn’t have said it, at least that would’ve been something. they say something is better than nothing. but instead, you just look away, and somehow, that’s worse.

he clears his throat, glancing down, pretending like he’s just now noticing the outfit you’re wearing. it’s classy. fitted to your figure. a sleek black dress that hugs your shoulders just right.

“were you—” he nods at your clothes, and he hopes he sounds more casual than he actually is. “going out somewhere?”

“coming from somewhere,” you correct. you hesitate to add on. but once you do, you don’t stop. “a date—it was terrible. he wasn’t a gentleman at all. can you believe he didn’t even offer to open the door for me?”

he gives you a half smile in return. “guess i really screwed up your night, huh?”

you smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “you have a knack for timing.”

and neither of you say the obvious—that he doesn’t have a right to care where you were going or who you were going with.

but it doesn’t stop him from wondering.

you sigh before pushing yourself off the hood of your car. “it just… died. no warning. nothing. just gave up on me.”

“oh, the nerve she has.”

satoru pops the hood. he leans in and checks the simple things that break. but he already has a gut feeling, and sure enough, it hits him the second he reaches for the belt.

snap.

cut.

clean.

“it’s the serpentine belt,” he says.

you take a look over his shoulder. “the what?”

he points at the engine. “the long thing that makes the rest of the car actually work. the alternator, steering, water pump—you name it but when the belt goes, everything goes.”

“but you can fix it, though, right?”

you ask him so naturally. as if things are still as simple as they used to be.

it sings. it stings even more when he know he won’t be able to fulfill your expectations.

he straightens up, brushing his hands down his thighs. “i can’t tonight. i don’t have the tools… or the belt. i got to go head back, grab a bunch of car stuff you definitely don’t want the names of, and come back.”

you nod, but he sees it—the disappointment you try to blink away. he hates that he notices it. hates that he still cares so much.

“i’ll come back her the morning,” he says. “but your car’s toast for the night.”

you roll your eyes. “still dramatic, huh?”

“ugh, still a party pooper.” he playful pouts. “you do a bad job at actin’ like you don’t appreciate my jokes.”

“oh please. you’re not even that funny.”

for a split second, it’s like no time has passed. like this is just another night. another joke. another moment where maybe, maybe, things could’ve turned out different.

“yeah…” he mumbles. “you got someone you can call? for a ride?”

“oh i’ll figure it out.”

he hesitates. “i know your place is far and you look pretty tired so—i can drive you back to my place. y’know, if you want.”

you give him a look. one that he can’t decipher. “that a good idea?”

“maybe not.”

another pause.

“but the offer still stands,” he adds.

you sigh, rubbing your temples. “god, i forgot how annoying you get when you’re trying to be nice.”

“and i forgot how stubborn you can get when you need help.”

you laugh, “touché.”

“lock your car door, make sure you got everything valuable incase someone breaks in.” he nods his head towards his car. “and c’mon.“

you don’t bother protesting. “yeah, okay.”

satoru makes his way to his car. you turn to go to your own car, then pause in your tracks.

“satoru,” you call out.

he turns around.

“…thanks again.”

he nods once. “anytime.”

and just then, satoru allows himself to believe that maybe some broken things aren’t meant to stay broken.

even if it’s just for tonight.

539 notes · View notes

janiehellion · 4 months ago

Text

𝐀 𝐓𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⋮ ℜ𝔦𝔠𝔨 𝔊𝔯𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔰

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: You were a sin too tempting to forget—a fire that burned Rick Grimes alive. Consumed by desire, he realized repentance would never be enough, and redemption was never an option.

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: Smut ⋮ Cheating ⋮ Age Gap ⋮ Infidelity ⋮ Adultery ⋮ Somnophilia ⋮ Angst ⋮ Obsession ⋮ Dacryphilia ⋮ Size Kink ⋮ Outdoor Sex ⋮ Cunnilingus ⋮ Praise Kink ⋮ Possessive Behavior ⋮ Manipulation ⋮ Character Death ⋮ Language ⋮ Shane Walsh

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 22.822 𝑺𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈: S02E07 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Fem!Reader

𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ⋮ 𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑮𝒖𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔 ⋮ 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑶𝒏𝒆: 𝑨 𝑻𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆 𝑶𝒇 𝑺𝒊𝒏

You were still catching your breath when you left Rick alone by the chicken coop.

With your legs feeling shaky, your skin sweaty and sensitive from where his hands had been, from where his mouth had devoured you, his taste was still on your tongue.

And with every second you closed your eyes only to open them again as you walked, all you could see was him—his shoulders trembling, his voice breaking, his hands grabbing you like he was desperate to hold on, even as he tried to convince himself to let go.

To not lose himself in the temptation of you.

You turned your head just enough to get a look at him disappearing into the dark behind you, his steps uneven, his belt still loose around his waist. Smirking to yourself, you turned back toward your tent, only to realize you weren't alone.

Shane was nearby, walking toward his own tent, eyes locked onto Rick... and then back on you. He hadn't said a word, but you'd seen the look on his face. The way his mouth had twitched, showing just a small, little hint of a smirk, his head had tilted slightly, like he was working through something in his mind, seconds before he left.

Like he knew.

Meanwhile, Rick barely made it back to his tent without stumbling.

His legs felt unsteady, his arms too heavy, his skin wet with sweat. He still smelled like you. The scent of you clung to him, sinking into his clothes and his bones.

His lips were still swollen from yours.

His hands were still trembling.

And then he saw them—Lori and Carl, curled up together in their tent, their breathing quiet with only a little snore here and there. Peaceful.

Rick stared at them for a while.

The rush of blood in his ears, the pounding of his racing heart in his chest as if it was trying to break free behind his ribs, and the ache still pulsing in his cock—it all stopped as reality came back to him.

What the fuck did I just do?

His mouth went dry, his stomach dropped, and the knot in his throat felt so tight it made him feel unable to breathe.

He had just fucked you—had let himself drown in you, let himself give in to something reckless and wrong—and now he was standing here, looking at the family he had just betrayed.

Goddamn it. Goddamn it.

Rick had no idea how he was supposed to do this—how he was supposed to step into that tent, lie down beside his wife, and pretend like he hadn't just—but then he saw it.

Something small. Something barely noticeable, near the edge of the tent.

He frowned, trying to get closer, his breath still coming too fast. His fingers reached down before he could think, before he could even stop himself.

A package.

Pills.

Not just any pills.

Abortion pills.

He froze in place. His pulse rang in his ears, louder than before, louder than anything else in the world.

Lori moved slightly in her sleep, but Rick didn't care.

She had been planning to get rid of… a baby?

The thought of it cut through him like a knife, the blade slicing him open. First, he betrayed Lori. Now, he was standing here, holding proof that she had been about to betray him, too.

But what if she had already betrayed him at this point?

His fingers clenched around the package, his grip tight, his whole body tense as he turned to reach out, grabbing Lori's shoulder and shaking her awake.

She gasped, her eyes flying open, her body stiffening slightly.

"Rick?" She grumbled, voice groggy and seemingly confused.

He didn't give her a second to fully wake up. Didn't give her a second to pretend like everything was normal.

"Is there something you need to tell me?"

Lori blinked at him as he stepped out of the tent, pushing herself up on her elbows, frowning before she finally followed him.

"Rick, what—?"

He turned around in an instant, holding up the package right in front of her eyes.

"We can't leave," she interrupted herself immediately, her voice quiet and careful. "I'm pregnant."

"Are you?" Rick asked in return, leaving no time for her to argue, but not letting it show how much this had just affected him, his voice sounding cold and empty.

Lori looked exhausted. Defeated.

"I threw them up," she continued. "You can yell if you want. You can scream if you have to, but talk to me."

Rick stared at her.

Talk to her?

His fingers tightened around the package in his hand. "How long have you known?"

"Does it matter?" Lori asked, but Rick simply clenched his jaw in return.

"Days? Weeks?" His voice rose slightly, just enough to make her tense up. "And you didn't tell me?"

"I'm telling you now."

"No." He held up the package again, bringing it closer to her face. "I found these. So Glenn knows, right? Instead of going to me, you sent him to get pills?"

"I panicked," Lori answered and looked away.

Rick shook his head, scoffing, running a hand over his mouth. "You tell me we have no roof and no walls—"

"Do not put this on me!" Lori snapped, but Rick continued further.

"You tear into me for keeping secrets," he hissed, stepping closer, "when you're holding onto this?"

Lori's expression changed—frustration, confusion, anger—her emotions were all over the place.

"You want me to bring a baby into this?" She demanded. "To live a short, cruel life? How can you think like that? We can't even protect the son we already have!"

"So this is the solution?" Rick shot back, letting the package of the pills fall to the ground in front of her feet.

Lori let out a deep breath, shaking her head. "Rick, I threw them up. I screwed up. I don't know how we do this."

Rick still stared at her. His pulse was like a hammer pounding a nail into his ribs.

"We can make it work," he suddenly said, voice quieter now, but still tense. "You threw up the pills. You want this baby. I know you do."

Lori's lips parted slightly, her expression changing again—with uncertainty and doubt.

"Not like this," she whispered. "Not giving birth in a ditch. Not when its life will hang by a thread from the second it's born. Not when every cry will put it, and Carl and everyone we care about, in danger. That's not right."

Rick swallowed, his throat dry, and he hesitated for a while, thinking about what he could say next.

"Is there anything else I should know about?"

Lori pressed her lips together, but she didn't wait. There was no going back.

"Shane and I..."

The words hit like a punch in the gut, but he wasn't very surprised.

Rick exhaled slowly, staring down at the dirt beneath his boots.

"I know. Of course, I know. You thought I was dead," Rick mumbled, unable to look into her eyes. "The world went to shit, and you thought I was dead. Right?"

"Yeah," Lori nodded as he let out a long breath, the abortion pill package still on the ground between the both of them.

He had nothing left to say.

And Lori didn't say another word after that as well.

She just stood there for a moment, watching Rick, his face unreadable. Then she turned and ducked back into the tent, trying to be as quiet as possible as she crawled inside.

Once back at Carl's side, she was waiting for Rick to join her, but as soon as she realized that he didn't, she was unable to close her eyes. How could she? She lay there, staring at the ceiling of the tent, her mind racing as she cuddled closer to Carl.

She thought about the pills. About Shane. About the baby growing inside her—a baby she wasn't sure she wanted but couldn't bring herself to get rid of. And then she thought about Rick.

Deep down, Lori knew the baby wasn't his.

But the way he'd looked at her when he'd found the pills? The way his voice had cracked when he'd asked, "Is there anything else I should know about?"

She didn't know what to do. Didn't know how to fix this. But one thing was clear: their marriage was hanging by a thread. And Lori? Lori wasn't sure she had the strength to hold on.

Outside the tent, Rick still didn't move. Not even having looked at her once, she turned back and crawled into it. He was still standing there, still trying to piece together what the hell had just happened.

Lori must have thought that was the end of it. That she had said her part, that things would somehow go back to the way they were before. But Rick knew better.

There was no going back. Not after tonight.

His head felt like it was spinning, thoughts crashing into each other, haunting him over and over.

He had betrayed her. She had betrayed him.

And now he was supposed to lie down next to her, close his eyes, and pretend like none of it had happened?

Rick swallowed hard, his throat so dry it hurt, spit almost not able to run down inside it. He let out a slow, shaky breath, rubbing a hand down his face, then through his hair, gripping the curls tight like the pull of it might get his head back into place.

But all he could feel was how his hands remembered you. The way you had felt beneath him, around him. The softness of your skin, the way you had wanted him. Desired him.

His mouth remembered you. His lips, his tongue… The taste of you. The way you had moaned into his kisses, the way your lips had parted so sweetly when he had devoured you like he needed to. The way your moans had vibrated through his cock made him feel pure ecstasy, the kind of euphoria he hadn't felt in years.

Jesus Christ...

Rick clenched his jaw, inhaling deeply, so deeply, but all he smelled was you. That warm, intoxicating scent of sweat, sex, and sin.

His cock twitched, still aching, still wanting to harden, even now.

Again, he ran a hand over his face, his fingers pressing against his eyes and his temples.

What the hell was happening to him?

He had always thought of himself as a good man. A man who did the right thing, even when it was hard. A man who kept his promises, who honored his vows. A man who didn't stray.

But tonight—tonight, he had lost control.

He had kissed you. He had touched you. He had fucked you right against the chicken coop with the sun still shining and the others not that far away, and now—now he had to crawl into a tent with his wife, pretend like none of it had happened, like it wasn't still burning in his veins.

No.

He took another deep breath, but it didn't help. His body was restless, his skin still aching from where your hands had clung to him, your nails digging in, your mouth on his…

His fingers tapped against his thighs, his chest rising and falling too fast from his quick breathing. His whole body was screaming at him to do something, to move, to get away before he lost his goddamn mind.

So he did. Rick pushed himself away, his movements stiff and his muscles tense.

He told himself he was just going for a walk. Just a simple walk. Just to clear his head. But somehow, his feet carried him straight to your tent after having walked around in circles for what seemed almost endless. He barely even realized he was moving toward it until he was standing there, just a few steps away, looking around to see if anyone else from the group had noticed him. So far, it looked safe.

But Rick knew he should leave.

He knew he should.

But he didn't. Of course not. How could he resist? How could he resist and stop those desires that had burned themselves into his mind like a fire he hadn't dared to put out?

So Rick just stood there, breathing hard but still quietly enough to not be heard, his mind a mess, his cock aching, and his body hurting with how much he wanted to be near the source of the heat that had crept up on him, spreading itself throughout his most tempting thoughts.

And then, he slipped inside.

The air was warmer in there from the summer heat, your scent invading his nose instantly. His pulse kicked up, his body moving slow, carefully, as he lowered himself to his knees beside you.

You were curled up on your side, your breathing all soft and steady by now. The blanket barely covered you, the still somewhat sweaty skin of your thighs peeking out.

Rick swallowed, feeling the unmistakable knot in his throat, the one he was sure he could never swallow down, no matter how hard he would try.

What the hell was he doing?

This was wrong.

He should turn around and walk out. Right now. Before it was too late. Before he did something he couldn't take back.

But his hand was already moving.

His fingers hovered over your shoulder, barely touching your skin, but even that tiny touch sent flames straight through his already burning veins. He moved his fingers down slowly, over your arm, down to your thigh, trailing them along the naked skin just above your knee.

God…

How he admired the way your skin reacted to his touch, the goosebumps forming right where his fingers had been only moments before.

"Just… just a taste," he whispered to himself.

Just a little taste of you, and then he'd leave. Leave it behind, this situation—you—wanting to put out the scorching fire burning him alive.

That's what he told himself. But deep down, he already knew it was a lie.

Rick leaned in slowly, his lips stopping just over your skin. He could feel the heat of you, the warmth coming from your body, the quiet rise and fall of your breath.

Then he pressed a kiss to your jaw. Barely a brush of his lips.

Then another. Just below your ear. And then lower—his mouth moving down with slightly trembling lips, still slow, to the side of your throat. He stopped right there, inhaling deeply, drinking you in as he kissed you again, with a little more pressure and deeper this time, just enough to taste.

You still smelled like sin. You still tasted like sin. Pure temptation in its finest form.

Rick's fingers slid higher, moving up your thigh, slow, teasing, his touch light.

But then—you stirred. A soft, sleepy sound slipped from your lips, a little noise, barely more than a quick breath, but it broke him some more.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he swallowed hard, every muscle in his body tensing up as his cock throbbed all over again, hoping you wouldn't wake up now.

But he knew he should wake you up. Tell you this was a mistake. A misunderstanding. That whatever had happened between you—it couldn't happen again. That he couldn't keep doing this, couldn't keep letting himself need you like this.

Still, he didn't wake you. For a long moment, he just watched.

Your body moved ever so slightly, your head tilting, another soft sound slipping from your lips—a sigh—nothing more, but that sound—that unholy sigh?

It was breaking him further apart. Piece by piece.

Rick's fingers instantly grabbed the blanket that covered your body to control himself, he hoped, but he was hanging by a thread already, wanting nothing more than to lift the fabric and crawl next to you, hugging you, keeping you close.

His lips stayed again over your skin, his body still shaking, his hands still wanting to take.

"What the hell are you doin' to me?" He whispered with a voice that sounded wrecked, desperate even. But he stayed like that for a moment longer.

And then, with every bit of strength he had left, he forced himself to move. Rick pushed back, his breath ragged, his hands shaking, his cock still painfully hard, throbbing, and desperate for more.

But he couldn't stay. If he stayed, he wouldn't be able to stop. So he left and slipped back out into the night.

Sleep wasn't an option. Not after this.

Not after you.

Rick started to walk. He circled the tents, paced around as he kicked the dirt, and kept watch. But it didn't help. Nothing could silence his mind. Nothing could rip away the feel of you beneath his hands. Nothing could stop the way his body burned for you.

And he kept walking, his hands still trembling, his mind a mess, his body on fire with restless, useless energy. His eyes were focused on scanning the dark fields, the trees, and the fence. Looking for any sign of danger. Anything to distract him.

But no matter how hard he tried, no matter how long he stood there, his body still remembered. And as the hours dragged on, as the sky began to lighten with the first hints of dawn, Rick knew one thing for certain. He was already too far gone.

The next morning came too fast as well.

Rick felt the sun shining down on him before he even looked up. The exhaustion was felt deep in his bones, a weight that made his legs and arms feel heavy, a headache pounding along with it. He hadn't slept. Not for one single second.

So when he finally forced himself to move, to walk back toward the others, to pretend like he hadn't spent the night drowning in the memory of you, Rick already knew he was failing. He could feel it in the stiffness of his movements, the way his body dragged itself, the way his skin still felt too hot and cold at the same time.

He barely had time to sit down before he felt eyes on him, slowly letting out a quiet cough and pressing the nails of his fingers into his thighs as he prepared himself, already knowing what was coming before he even looked up.

Shane stood there, next to him, his arms crossed, and with that goddamn smirk on his lips, like he was just waiting for Rick to crack.

"Shit, man." His voice was lazy, amused even. It sounded irritating in a way Rick really didn't have the patience for. "You look like you've been up all damn night."

Rick's blood went cold. His breath stopped for just a second before he forced himself to keep it steady, to not react. But it was too late. Shane had already seen it.

Rick knew that he saw how his teeth clenched and how his hands trembled, but he forced himself to let it slide. "Nah, man. I'm just tired. Kept watch all night, just in case. T-Dog and I repaired part of the fence yesterday. Near the chicken—"

He stopped talking in an instant, his eyes widening and his head trying to find a believable answer, even if the part with the fence was the actual truth.

"Part of the fence was loose there, and it isn't fully repaired yet. Gonna ask T again soon. We still need to earn our stay here, and you know it. That's why I kept watch. Just. In. Case."

Rick knew he had no room to speak. Not after what he had done.

Because Shane had fucked Lori, had taken her while Rick was still breathing, while he was still out there fighting to get back to his family. Did both Lori and Shane really think he was dead back then? Or has Shane been after her for longer than he'd ever care to admit? Rick didn't know; he shouldn't dare to think about it. And now here he was, with your touch still haunting him.

He was no better. Maybe he never had been.

Rick let out a deep breath, dragging a hand down his face before turning away. He didn't look at Shane again. He didn't need to. He could still feel the smirk burning into the back of his head and could hear the quiet laugh beneath his breath as Rick walked away.

As soon as everyone else was awake and ready, breakfast had never felt so unbearable. Everyone sat scattered around the camp, eating in silence, but Rick wasn't really there. His body was, sure. He was sitting next to Lori, with Carl beside her, who had a plate of food in his lap and a fork in his hand. But Rick's mind?

Still somewhere else.

His eyes kept looking around, pulling him toward another thing that he couldn't stop pondering about.

Lori.

She sat right next to him, talking to Carl as if everything was normal again. As normal as the new world could be. She hadn't said a word to Rick all morning, hadn't even looked at him, and maybe that was for the best.

Because Rick didn't know what he was supposed to say to her anymore.

And still, there was Shane, wasn't he?

Still smirking, walking around with a frying pan in his hand, and eating straight out of it. Still acting like he had all the power in the world, like he wasn't there knowing exactly what Rick had done, knowing exactly how deep a certain innocence had already sunk its claws into him.

And then—there was you.

You sat on the other side of the camp, your legs crossed beneath you, your hair still a little messy from sleep, a small smile on your lips as you spoke to Andrea. You looked relaxed, unbothered… and innocent.

But Rick knew the truth. He's seen it.

Because the second his eyes landed on you, your head lifted itself, your eyes looking into his like you felt him watching.

Shit. That look. That goddamn look in your eyes.

Like you knew. Like you had been awake last night, had felt his touch, had heard his voice, and had let him kiss you while you pretended to sleep.

His breath hitched in his throat. It hit him all over again—the hunger, the need, that growing addiction that was already eating him alive. This wasn't just want anymore.

But then he heard Shane near him again, who was by now leaning against one of the trees. He laughed quietly to himself. It wasn't loud. Not enough to draw attention from the others. But it was enough to make Rick glance his way.

And there it was again—that look.

But he still didn't say anything. He didn't have to. He just chewed his food, tilted his head ever so slightly, and kept his eyes on Rick like he was reading every thought in his head. Shane knew. And Shane never let any weakness go untested. Certainly not when he looked at a man who he thought was not made for this kind of world.

And you? You sat there, your plate of food long forgotten, barely able to choke it down anyway. Not when you could still feel him.

Rick.

He was sitting across the camp you had set up as a group near the farmhouse of the Greene's, with him looking like he was carrying the whole goddamn world on his shoulders alone. And maybe he was.

But it wasn't just that.

It was the way his eyes kept looking up, landing on Lori, then Shane, and back to you—his gaze burning like he was daring you to say something.

Like he was waiting for you to say something. But you didn't.

Because what were you supposed to say? That you'd actually been fully awake last night? That you had felt his hands on your body, his warm breath against your skin, his mouth whispering sin onto your flesh?

That you had let him?

Even now, with the whole group around, with Lori and Carl next to him and the tension between him and Shane, all you could think about was his hand sliding so softly along your arm, his lips trembling and kissing your jaw, and the way he had whispered, What the hell are you doin' to me?

No. You didn't say a word. But you looked at him.

"Where'd you go?" Lori then asked, pulling him out of his thoughts while caressing his neck with one hand and leaning in close.

Rick barely reacted to her words.

"I'm here."

It wasn't an answer, not really, but it was all she was going to get.

And you knew why. You knew where he had been.

Your body still remembered it. The feeling of his touch on your skin and the warmth of his breath still so hot against your throat. Every time you closed your eyes, you could still feel his lips there, still hear the way his voice had cracked when he whispered to you in the dark, his hands shaking as they moved over your body.

Since then, you haven't slept much either. But there was no time to dwell on it now.

Meanwhile, Glenn moved a little from where he sat, his expression looking uneasy. He glanced toward the farmhouse, his eyes staring at Maggie, who stood on the porch, shaking her head slightly before Glenn looked back to Dale. Dale met his gaze, gave the smallest nod, and then—Glenn exhaled deeply, bracing himself.

"Um, guys. So..." He hesitated like he was trying to find the right words, but there weren't any. "The barn is full of walkers."

Silence.

The whole group made its way to the barn in an instant, gathering in front of it, but you still couldn't help yourself, looking at Rick ever so often. You forced yourself to look away, to pretend you weren't still watching.

This wasn't your problem, was it? Except—it kinda was.

Because now, you were all standing in front of a barn full of walkers.

Shane was the first to break the silence, standing at the front, looking between the wooden slats, his mouth slightly open, before he stepped back as a walker pushed against the doors from the inside.

"You cannot tell me you're all right with this!"

Rick stood next to him, his expression just as tense, but his voice was calm so far.

"No, I'm not," he admitted. "But we're guests here. This isn't our land."

Shane let out a breathy, quick laugh, shaking his head. "God, this is our lives!"

"Lower your voice," Glenn warned, looking around, but Shane barely heard him.

Andrea stepped forward, her arms crossed over her chest at first before resting her hands on her hips. "We can't just sweep this under the rug."

"It ain't right," Shane shot back. "Not remotely. Okay… we've either got to go in there, we've got to make things right, or we've just got to go. Now, we have been talking about Fort Benning for a long time—"

"We can't go," Rick interrupted him immediately.

"Why, Rick? Why?" Shane turned to him, unable to understand.

Before Rick could answer, Carol spoke up, her voice quiet, standing a bit in the background before she walked over to Rick.

"Because my daughter is still out there."

The words hit hard. Everyone fell silent for a moment.

Then, Shane let out another humorless laugh, running his hands over his face, as if he couldn't believe all of this.

"Okay," he said, his voice just a little lighter now. "Okay, I think it's time that we all start to just consider the other possibility."

"We're not leaving Sophia behind," Rick continued, until Daryl stepped forward, too.

"I'm close to findin' this girl. I jus' found her damn doll two days ago!"

Shane turned to him, his face unreadable at first—but just by looking at Daryl Dixon, one could see how annoyed he was by him.

"You found her doll, Daryl," Shane said, gesturing around. "That's what you did. You found a doll!"

Daryl's expression darkened, his fingers twitching at his side.

"Ya don't know what the hell yer talkin' 'bout," he snapped back at him, waving an arm dismissively.

"I'm just saying what needs to be said," Shane argued further, his voice rising in anger. "You get a good lead; it's in the first 48 hours!"

"Shane, stop," Rick warned, trying to get both men to back off.

But Shane wasn't done.

He turned back to Daryl, stepping closer. "Let me tell you something else, man," he continued, "If she was alive out there and saw you coming all methed out with your buck knife and geek ears around your neck, she would run in the other direction!"

The moment the words left his mouth, you knew it was a mistake. Daryl moved fast.

"Shut yer mouth!" He growled, lunging toward Shane, his fists clenched, and his whole body tense like he was about to throw a punch.

"Don't come at me, man!" The other man warned in response, but Rick was quite fast to hold him back before he could jump at the younger Dixon brother.

"Now just let me talk to Hershel," Rick then cut in, his voice loud but steady, demanding attention. "Let me figure it out."

Shane just scoffed. "What are you gonna figure out?"

But that made Rick not back down.

"If we're gonna stay," he continued, trying to calm him down, "if we're gonna clear this barn, I have to talk him into it. This is his land."

"Hershel sees those things in there as people... sick people... his wife, his stepson," Dale spoke up, taking a few steps forward as well.

Rick turned to face him as soon as those words left his mouth. "You knew?"

Dale hesitated, then nodded. "Yesterday I talked to Hershel."

Shane let out a bitter laugh. "And you waited the night?"

"I thought we could survive one more night," Dale explained further. "We did. I was waiting till this morning to say something. But Glenn wanted to be the one."

Shane shook his head, stepping away, pacing slightly, his movements tense.

"The man is crazy, Rick," he said, his voice full of frustration. "If Hershel thinks those things are alive or not—"

"Then it is not up to us," you suddenly cut in, your heart pounding from the whole situation and everything that was happening along with it.

The second the words left your mouth, every pair of eyes snapped to you.

Shane's jaw clenched tightly as if he was grinding his teeth. "You gotta be fuckin' kidding me."

"I'm not saying I like it. I'm not saying I agree with it. But this is not our damn land, Shane. We are guests here. You think we can just do whatever the fuck we want just because this isn't the world we once knew anymore?"

"We are talking about a barn full of walkers. A whole damn ticking time bomb!"

"And we will handle it," you shot back, shutting him up. "But we do it the right way. Not like some goddamn animals! Or do you really wanna go and take over the whole damn farm by yourself, Shane? That would put all of us in danger."

Silence... Again.

Then, Rick inhaled slowly, smiling to himself a little, looking at you for just a second too long before he turned back to Shane. "She's right. And you know that."

"Look, I understand, okay? It doesn't matter what Hershel thinks," you continued, your voice strong, really drawing attention to yourself for the very first time.

Everyone else still looked at you, but you didn't care.

"What matters is that we're on his land," you continued, your eyes looking from Rick to Shane. "And if we start acting like we own the place, if we just take what we want, we're no better than the damn walkers in that barn. That'd be the Greene's death sentence, and I won't let that happen just because you don't know shit about respect!"

Shane laughed loudly, rolling his eyes. "So what, little girl? We just sit here and let ‘em get us killed instead?"

"No," you shot back, still not backing down and ignoring what he'd just called you. "But we don't get to make that decision without Hershel. Let Rick handle it. Let him talk. That's all we're asking for, Shane."

Rick was still watching you, like he was seeing you in a different light, like something about your words had done something inside of him. Shane, on the other hand, just shook his head, letting out another annoyed laugh.

But for now, at least, he let it drop. And you knew—it was only a matter of time before everything exploded. But you also knew… you should've left.

Everyone else was already walking away from the barn—some of the group going back toward the tents, others disappearing toward the house.

You should've followed them. Should've gone anywhere but here. But you hesitated. You didn't know why, but you stayed. And that was your mistake. Because now, you were alone with him. With Shane.

He stayed near the doors of the barn, arms crossed over his chest, eyes dark, and expression unreadable. Like he had all the time in the world.

You were about to turn, about to take one step in the opposite direction…

"Y'know," Shane stopped you, his voice low and teasing. "I didn't think he had it in him."

Your stomach dropped. Slowly, you turned back to face him, already feeling the blood start to boil in your veins. "The hell did you just say?"

"C'mon little girl, you heard me. Stop pretending," Shane smirked.

That lazy, shit-eating smirk.

You clenched your jaw, refusing to react, refusing to give him anything. "You know what? Go to hell, Shane."

"Already there, baby." He answered with a laugh, shaking his head, stepping forward just enough to close the space between you.

Not touching you. But close enough.

Close enough that you could see the way his eyes looked you up and down, stopping at the hem of another one of the sundresses that Maggie had given you the day before, that smirk still on his face.

"You got some damn nerve," you mumbled, but he simply snorted.

"Oh yeah? And you don't?" He tilted his head slightly, his eyes looking back up to meet yours. "What was it, huh? Quick little roll in the hay? That why he was lookin' all fucked out this mornin'?"

Your breath hitched. It was so damn tempting to just punch him. Right on that goddamn nose. But instead, you smiled. Nice and sweet.

And then you swung. Not your fist—only your words.

"You would know all about quick fucks, wouldn't you, Shane?" You leaned in, keeping your voice just quiet enough. "Or did Lori at least let you finish inside of her before she ran back to her husband?"

That slapped the smirk right off his face. But you weren't done.

"Bet you told her Rick was dead, huh?" You continued, watching the way his fists clenched at his sides, his shoulders going rigid. "Bet you've had your eyes on her long before the world has gone to shit. For how long? Months? Maybe even years?"

One second, you were standing there, triumphant to have won, having shoved it right back in his face, but then his hand was gripping your jaw.

Hard.

Not enough to hurt. But enough to make you gasp in shock. Enough to make your heart pound faster and faster.

Your hands moved up instantly, grabbing at his wrist, but he just held you there, his fingers pressing against your skin, his face being so close that you could feel the heat of his breath against your cheek.

"Watch your fuckin' mouth..."

Swallowing loudly in return, you knew you should've been scared. But you weren't.

Because you noticed it—the way his grip trembled just slightly, the way his breathing was just a little too heavy, the way his eyes looked down to your lips for half a second before looking back up.

So, you just smiled again. Like it was the easiest thing in the world.

"You really wanna play this game with me, Walsh?" You whispered.

Shane's grip tightened for a moment before he suddenly let go, stepping back and laughing to himself.

"You know what? Yeah, I did fuckin' finish," he responded, clapping his hands together several times in front of your face to mock you. "So what?"

But you stood your ground, your chin held up high, heart still racing, yet refusing to let him see it.

Refusing to let him win.

"Are you done?" You then asked flatly, but Shane shook his head, still smirking.

"Nah, little girl, I ain't done."

Neither of you moved. Neither of you walked away. You just stood there, with Shane still looking at you. Of course, with that same damn smirk. That same smirk, like he had you, like he knew exactly what to do to annoy you, and exactly what to say. That same smirk, as he couldn't have any other facial expression to use around you anymore.

He huffed loudly, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek, trying not to burst into laughter. "Y'know," he started again, his voice as casual as ever. "If you wanted it rough and a lil' older, you shoulda just said somethin!"

He then grinned as he saw how red your face was getting, which only gave him more fuel to continue. "Bet Rick ain't got it in him, huh? 'Cause he ain't made for this world. Bet he—"

"Shut the fuck up, Shane."

But he was still enjoying this. And that was what pissed you off the most. You forced yourself to take a step back, heart pounding, your jaw so clenched, it felt like it was going to dislocate itself any second right now.

"Go fuck yourself," you grumbled, voice shaking just slightly. Maybe because you were angry, or, deep down, you liked this.

Not him. Not Shane.

But the fight. The way it made your blood pump faster, the way it boiled so fast in your veins.

Or maybe it was the way he wasn't done, either.

"You gonna stand there all day, little girl?"

That stare-off between you felt like it went on for hours even though you knew it was only a few seconds.

"You tell me, Walsh. You seem really happy just standing here, keeping your damn eyes on me rather than the damn barn behind you."

And with that, you turned and walked away toward the farmhouse. You told yourself the way you had reacted was anger—that it was just the heat of the moment. But deep down, you knew it was more than that. Shane had gotten under your skin. And not just because of his smirk or his stupid jokes. No, it was the way he looked at you—like he knew exactly what buttons to push and as if he could see right through you.

It pissed you off. But it also excited you in a way.

Shaking your head, you tried to clear your thoughts. This wasn't the time to get distracted. Not with the barn full of walkers. Not with the search for Sophia and all the other problems the group had. Still, you couldn't help but wonder—what would happen if you pushed him a little further? And what would happen if you let Shane push a little further?

By the time you made it back toward camp, things had calmed—at least, on the outside. Everyone was moving around, busying themselves with whatever tasks they could find, trying not to think about the fact that everything felt like it was actually starting to fall apart.

You spotted Rick up by the house, standing at the porch steps, his hands on his hips before he climbed them, and then knocking on the door.

From where you stood, you could hear Hershel's muffled response from inside the house.

"Come on in."

Rick stepped inside. And you just… watched.

Watched as the door went shut behind him. Watched as Maggie moved past the door and inside as well, stopping only for a second to look over at Glenn before shaking her head and continuing. Watched as the camp kept moving, kept breathing, and kept pretending like they weren't all terrified about what had to happen eventually.

And still, all you could think about was the way Shane had looked at you and what he'd said. Even now.

Inside the farmhouse, Hershel sat at the table, the Holy Bible open in front of him, barely looking up as Rick stepped in.

"A little light reading for lunch?" Rick asked, stopping right next to him.

Hershel turned a page, not looking up to acknowledge Rick with his eyes. "Been working so hard lately I get my studying where I can."

"You know we can help you out with your work."

Hershel shook his head. "It's my field to tend."

Rick looked around the house slowly, thinking about what to say, while his hands still rested on his hips.

"We found the barn," he said next, just waiting for Hershel to respond in anger.

But Hershel barely blinked. "Leave it be."

Rick's jaw tightened. "Well, I'd like to talk about it, but either way… your barn, your farm, your say."

The man finally looked at him, using a napkin to wipe his mouth. Completely unbothered.

"I don't want to talk about the barn. I don't want to debate."

Rick held his stare. "Not a debate. A discussion."

After a moment of silence, Hershel closed the Bible, standing up with the empty plate and the silverware. "I need you and your group gone by the end of the week."

Rick didn't react. Not at first.

Didn't move. Didn't blink. Didn't breathe.

Then, quickly, he followed him into the kitchen of the house.

He stood behind Hershel, who was putting the plate and silverware into the sink, only to look out of the window, hoping he would just leave and let him be.

"I talked to Dale," Rick continued. "You and I have our differences with the way we look at the walkers. Those people, they may be dead; they may be alive. But my people—us—we are alive right now. Right here. Right in front of you."

Hershel didn't say anything, still looking out of the window and not once having turned around. But Rick pressed on.

"You send us out there, and that could change."

Still not turning around, Hershel let out a huff through his nose, like he was done with the conversation. "I've given you safe harbor. My conscience is clear."

"This farm…" Rick started again, shaking his head slightly. "This farm is special. You've been shielded from what's been going on out there," he continued, taking a step closer. "Dale said you saw everything happen on the news. Well, it's been…" He let out a dry, humorless breath. "It's been a long time since the cameras stopped rolling."

But Hershel's back stayed turned away from him.

"The first time I saw a walker, it was just half a body snapping at me from the ground," Rick explained to him. "My inclination wasn't to kill it. But what the world is out there isn't what you saw on TV. It is much, much worse. And it changes you. Either into one of them or something a lot less than the person you were."

Finally, Hershel turned around.

"Please," Rick said further. "Do not… Do not send us out there again."

Silence.

Hershel still didn't answer him; he looked him up and down.

Rick shook his head, his eyes looking down at the floor before shaking his head again and turning toward the door, dragging a hand down his face.

Then, he stopped. And said the only thing left he had to say.

"My wife's pregnant."

Hershel blinked, but Rick barely gave him time to react.

"That's either a gift here or a death sentence out there," he continued. "If we were to stay, we could help you with the work. With securing this place. We can survive together."

But Hershel was turning away from him again. "Rick, I'm telling you, we can't."

"You think about what you're doing," Rick answered in return, his voice rising ever so slightly, which made Hershel respond faster than before to finally get his point across and into the man's head.

"I've thought about it."

"Think about it."

"I've thought about it."

And Rick didn't argue any further.

He just opened the front door, stepped outside, and said, "Think about it again. We can't go out there."

Then, he closed the door behind him, his mind racing. Hershel's words were a mess in his head, but they were again pushed away by the memory of you once he saw you. He clenched his fists, trying to shake it off, but it was no use.

Rick looked across the camp, his eyes landing on you again. You were standing near the tents, your arms crossed, your expression unreadable. Taking a step forward, he stopped.

What was he supposed to do? March over there as if nothing has ever happened?

No. That wasn't him.

Rick forced himself to look away, to focus on the task at hand. But even as he walked back toward the group, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was losing control. And the worst part? He wasn't sure he even cared anymore.

And you saw it from a distance as you watched him—the way his shoulders tensed, the way his hands curled into fists before forcing himself to relax.

The way Rick looked like he was holding himself together with nothing but willpower. And all you could do was watch as you saw him coming down the porch steps. He didn't even look in your direction anymore and kept walking.

And still—still, you moved toward him.

"Hey, Rick—"

Nothing. Not even one single word. He just kept going, walking past you like you weren't even there.

Fine. Fuck him.

You turned, watching as he made his way toward the barn. Rick stopped just short of Shane, exhaling hard, making Shane look at him in return.

"What's it gonna be, man? Which way does this thing go?"

Rick dragged a hand down his face before answering. "I don't know yet."

Shane's head tilted. Just slightly. "Well, what did he say?"

"We're negotiating."

The other man's laugh was humorless, bitter. "You're nego—clock's ticking, Rick."

"No, it isn't, Shane." Rick's voice was annoyed. "That barn… The barn is secure. We didn't even know about it till this morning. We didn't."

Shane's eyes looked fast toward the barn, then back to him.

"Well, we know about it now. Right? We know there's over a dozen walkers in there. We know that it's about a stone's throw from our camp, Rick… Where we sleep."

Rick's fingers twitched at his sides.

"So look," Shane pressed on, "if we're not gonna go in there and clear it out, then we just got to go."

"We're not gonna clear it out, and we're not gonna go."

"We at least need our guns," Shane argued back, but Rick wasn't about to let it slide.

"We can't have them. Not here."

Shane stared at him, his mouth slightly open, before he leaned back more comfortably against the small, red tractor. "Why do you wanna stay here when it's not safe?"

"We can make it safe."

"How we gonna do that?"

"We will, okay?"

"How we gonna make it safe, Rick?" His voice had an angrier tone now, that barely hidden hate starting to boil up, pushing him further.

"We will, okay?"

"No, man, it's not okay."

Rick took a deep breath, already turning away from him before he finally said it.

"Shane, Lori's pregnant. We need to stay."

Silence. Shane blinked, his mouth falling open in shock, unable to know how to answer that. "We... need our guns," he then said, trying to process the information he had just thrown into his face, but Rick shook his head once more.

"No. I can work this out." Rick turned to leave again. He was done with this conversation. "You good?"

Shane didn't answer right away, rolling his shoulders back, which tensed up to the point of being uncomfortable.

"Yeah…" His voice was quieter now. "Lori's having a baby, man… Congratulations."

"Thank you," Rick nodded, and that should have been it. He should have kept walking. He should have left.

But Shane? Shane wasn't done.

"Hold up, Rick."

Rick stopped. But he didn't turn around. Not at first. And that made Shane take a slow step forward. And then another.

"You know," Shane started, "I was just wonderin' somethin'. Somethin' been on my mind since last night."

Slowly, very slowly, Rick turned to face him. His expression was blank. But his eyes? His eyes were burning.

"Tell me somethin'." Shane continued, now in an almost amused voice. "That little thing you and I got in common now? That happen before or after you went crawlin' back to Lori?"

Rick's expression didn't change, and Shane tilted his head, pretending to be curious.

"How'd it go, huh?" He took another step closer. "You go all slow and sweet, or was it fast? Rough?"

Rick's jaw was so tight it looked like his teeth might break if he ground them any harder.

Shane's smirk widened. "Bet it was rough." His voice sounded mocking now. "Bet she was greedy for it. All soft and pretty, makin' those cute little, desperate, needy noises—"

Rick moved. Fast. He grabbed Shane by the front of his shirt, shoving him hard, slamming him back against the red tractor so violently that it slightly moved.

"You ain't got no room to talk anymore, do you, Rick?"

He didn't answer and just stared at him. And the way they looked at each other—it was dangerous. It was personal. It wasn't just about Lori. It wasn't just about the walkers in the barn. It wasn't just about the farm. This? This was about them both.

"Wonder how much longer you're gonna play pretend, huh? I mean, c'mon, man! You really think you can just walk away after what you did?"

That line they were both standing on? They knew one of them was about to cross it eventually.

"You wanna say somethin' else to me, Shane?"

Shane took another step closer. "Oh, you know what I know. Knowing what you did."

Rick's jaw twitched, and Shane tilted his head.

"Behind the chicken coop, huh?" He laughed, smirking. "She loud? You had to keep her mouth shut?"

Shane didn't even flinch. He now just grinned like he'd won until Rick calmed himself down and let go of him again.

"Bet she moaned real lovely for you, huh? Like honey and all excited, so damn wet and just beggin'—"

Unable to look at him anymore, Rick shoved him to the side and away from him. Shane stumbled sideways, laughing breathlessly and shaking his head.

"Oh! That's rich, man! You wanna throw hands with me about it?" He laughed out loud. "You wanna look me in the fuckin' eyes and act like you got the right to be pissed? You fucked that lil' girl. You fucked her, Rick. Behind your wife's back. So tell me—what's that make you?"

Shane leaned in, but not too close, just in case Rick was about to snap again. "You ain't no better than me, brother."

Rick's head snapped back toward him, and for a second—just one second—Shane thought he was gonna swing. Thought he was actually gonna throw that punch, knock him down to the dirt, and finally give in to what had been happening between them for some time now.

But instead, Rick straightened himself and stepped back. "I ain't you."

"Keep tellin' yourself that, man," Shane answered in an instant, running a hand over his head.

Rick didn't say another word. He turned and walked away.

He stopped once he was far away enough from the man he'd once called his best friend since he was young, dragging both hands down his face before gripping the back of his neck, trying to breathe through the anger raging inside him. His pulse was hammering against his skull, and he knew—he knew—if he didn't get a hold of himself, he was gonna break something.

Or someone.

His teeth ground together as his eyes looked toward the chicken coop in the distance. It was like his body was drawn to it, to you, to the memory of last night. But now, he felt sick. He felt starved. He felt like if he let himself go back to that place, back to you…

No.

Closing his eyes, Rick inhaled deeply and forced himself to look away.

More important things needed to be done.

So he walked back toward the tents, his face unreadable, and that was when he spotted the map. Something he could focus on.

This was what mattered. The search for Sophia.

Once you saw Rick walking back toward the tents where you were still standing around while everyone else had occupied themselves, you knew you should've let him go.

You knew that. You should've just turned around, walked off, and focused on anything—anyone else—you should've let him stomp away like he always did when his head was too full of problems he couldn't solve when he got so lost in himself that it was like nothing and no one else existed around him. You should've let him deal with whatever war was happening in his mind on his own; let him pretend like what happened between you both behind the chicken coop was just some stupid mistake, some meaningless situation he could shove aside, bury deep, and move on from.

But how could you?

No, you stayed where you were, near the cars with a bitter taste in your mouth as you watched him stand at the hood of one of the cars, looking down at the map spread across it, his hands braced against the vehicle, his body tense like he was forcing himself to stay still, to stay focused.

His head was looking down, his eyes narrowed in deep concentration as he traced his fingers over the roads and backwoods trails, already moving forward with his thoughts, already figuring out the next step, already trying to keep his brain focused on something else, and not the argument with Shane, the conversation with Hershel, or the situation with Lori—like none of it had happened. As if he was fine and hadn't completely fallen apart last night and done something he couldn't take back.

No, Rick had to think of something different, something important, like searching for Carol's daughter.

Andrea stood beside him, arms crossed over her chest as she looked at the map along with him, her body leaning slightly toward his, listening as he spoke in that calm and concentrated way of his when he was keeping himself together by sheer force of will, like if he let go of that control for even a second, he might not be able to pull himself back together again.

"...also shows she could be moving this way south. If Sophia kept in that direction, she might have gotten out of the forest and into the farmland. So we take 74 up to Ivy Road, then push down south on foot through the forest till we hit Christopher, go east a couple of miles, and then double back."

You took a slow step forward, hesitant, unsure if it was even the right move, unsure why you were doing it, but unable to stop yourself all the same.

And Rick went completely still once he noticed you. His fingers stopped where they rested against the map, his breathing turning a little faster, and his shoulders went a little stiffer—just for a moment. Then, just as quickly, he forced himself to concentrate again, to act as if he hadn't noticed, as if you weren't standing there, as if he wasn't aware of you, just a few steps away.

Like you weren't even there.

Frustration overcame you.

It wasn't the time. It wasn't the place. You knew that. But you also knew you had to talk, especially regarding Shane.

"Rick, I—"

Nothing.

Andrea moved beside him, looking toward you, one eyebrow arching slightly like she wasn't sure if she should say something. If she should step in and if she should tell Rick you wanted to talk to him, but he didn't even acknowledge her either. He just kept talking, kept staring at the map, kept pretending like you didn't exist, like he couldn't hear your voice, and like he couldn't feel you watching him.

You clenched your fists at your sides, nails digging into your palms, resisting the urge to grab him, to shake him, to force him to see you.

Before you stepped away, a voice stopped you.

"Rick."

Hershel.

Rick turned around immediately, looking toward the older man.

"Hershel," he greeted, nodding once, like he was relieved for the excuse to pull away, for the reason to leave, to walk away from you without actually walking away from you. "We just have our guns out because we're gonna go look for Sophia."

Hershel barely even looked at the map. "Before you do that, I could use your help with something."

Andrea put a hand on her hip beside Rick, stepping forward. "Count me in."

But Hershel shook his head. "Thank you, but I just need Rick."

And just like that, Rick went with him after Jimmy had joined them. No hesitation. No second thought. He folded up the map, put it away, and walked off after them like he couldn't get away fast enough. Like he hadn't just spent the last several minutes pretending you didn't exist and like he hadn't just made you feel so unimportant that you wanted to scream.

And you should've let him go. You should've just let him disappear behind the trees, let him keep pretending, let him run.

But you didn't. Because something inside of you wouldn't let you. So you followed them.

Kept low. Kept your steps light. Kept your hand around your knife, just in case.

And you knew you weren't supposed to be out here. Not without telling at least one person from the group about it. You remembered it the second you started following them, the second your feet left the safety of the farm, slipping past the trees, staying quiet. You didn't have a plan. Didn't even have a good reason, just in case someone would search for you and you'd have to come up with an excuse.

But after everything—after last night, after this morning, after the way Rick had avoided you like you didn't even exist—you weren't about to sit around the camp doing nothing.

So you followed and kept your distance, moving slowly but carefully.

Once at the swamp, the first thing you noticed was that it smelled like rot.

You could hear insects buzzing somewhere nearby, the sound of water, and the rustling of birds chirping in the trees above, but none of it was enough to drown out the sound of them.

The growls.

The snapping of teeth.

The noises of the dead.

Hershel, Rick, and Jimmy had stopped near the edge of the muddy water, just a few feet away from where two walkers stood stuck in the sludge, their bodies sinking slowly, arms reaching, fingers clawing uselessly at the air.

"The silt on the bottom is like glue," Hershel explained. "You just sink in."

Rick followed him quietly.

"That's Lou Bush," Hershel continued, nodding toward one of them.

"You knew him?"

Hershel sighed. "Lou as in Louise. She has a farm up the road. Sweet corn mostly. Worked at Hapman's bar on weekends." He nodded toward the other walker, the one in coveralls. "The man, I don't know him, but the uniform… I've been to where he worked."

Rick was silent for a long moment, staring at them, his face unreadable.

"How many have you killed?" Hershel then asked.

Rick exhaled slowly, his fingers twitching slightly on instinct as if wanting to reach for his Colt Python. "Too many to count."

"Can you stop?" Hershel asked, and Rick's eyes narrowed slightly.

"There are people out there who haven't been in their right minds," Hershel continued, not letting him answer. "People who I believe can be restored."

"You're not talking about the walkers, are you?"

Hershel didn't answer. Didn't need to. Rick knew he thought the dead were just sick people. People you could still help find their way back among the living.

Rick turned just slightly, making sure no other danger was close—and suddenly looked directly at where you were hiding.

Shit…

For a moment—one quick and uncomfortable moment—you thought he'd actually seen you.

The way his shoulders stiffened, the way his head turned ever so slightly, and the way his eyes looked toward the tree line where you were crouched low in the shadows, barely breathing and barely even blinking, made you gasp.

It was instinct, pure instinct, the way you tensed, the way your fingers grabbed the handle of your knife even tighter, ready to run if you had to, ready to fight if it came to that, even though you knew there was no real reason for it. Rick might've been pissed as hell at you; you didn't really know for sure—might've spent the entire day so far acting like you didn't exist, like what happened last night was some shameful, disgusting little secret where he'd rather set himself on fire than acknowledge it—but he wouldn't hurt you.

"Rick..."

Just like that, his attention went right back to Hershel, like he hadn't just gone stiff, as if he hadn't just been looking directly at the spot you were crouched in, and like he hadn't just felt something in that quick, passing moment.

Taking your chance, you moved.

Not fast. Not loud. Not stupid.

Just carefully walking backward, deeper into the woods, deeper into the shadows, further away, and far enough that you could still hear them, could still make out their silhouettes through the gaps in the branches, but not close enough that Rick could feel your presence anymore.

Or maybe he never had.

Maybe it had just been your own paranoia. Your own guilt.

But it didn't matter now, because you stayed and you still watched. Listened.

Jimmy stepped forward, adjusting his grip on the catch pole in his hands, the kind with a noose at the end, the kind they used to get strays under control back in the old world.

"Otis said if you get them halfway out, they'll do the rest of the work," Jimmy said hesitantly, his voice nervous and uncertain.

"How many times did he do this?" Rick asked as he remembered Otis, who had died not that long ago when he was out on a run with Shane to get some of the medical equipment Hershel needed to save Carl after he'd been accidentally shot by him.

Meanwhile, Hershel let out a sigh as he looked toward the two walkers still stuck in the mud, their arms still reaching and their teeth still snapping. "If one wandered onto the property, Otis would get them into the barn. Now we have to."

Rick kept staring at them, his jaw clenched. "And what happens when the barn gets full?"

He took one step toward the edge of the water before his boots slipped, the mud sucking him down, yanking him straight off balance, and making his body hit the ground.

"Jeez!" He cursed, struggling to get a solid hold, his boots sliding off grip as he tried to push himself up. "Get the pole! Jimmy... Jimmy!"

But Hershel's voice remained calm, infuriatingly so. "You got it. Easy. Easy, Rick. Lead him. Jimmy will spot for us."

Rick's breath was ragged, with him grumbling around frustrated as he yanked the pole forward, trying to keep it looped around the walker's throat while still fighting against the mud beneath him. "This is easy?!"

Hershel still didn't care much, seeing no danger. "Lead him, lead him, Rick. You're the carrot, not the stick. You heard me, just lead him. He'll come to you."

"You told me he handled them easily!"

Once Rick stumbled behind them, Hershel took the lead and walked forward. "It's easier than some things."

"Come on! Come on, over here!" Jimmy said in the background when suddenly, a sound was to be heard.

A scream.

Not just any scream. Your scream.

Rick's entire body froze, and the pole slipped from his hands before Jimmy quickly took it into his own, staring at him in confusion.

But Rick wasn't there anymore. Wasn't thinking. Wasn't waiting.

"Rick!" Hershel's voice was alarmed, but Rick was already gone, already stumbling away from the mud, running through the trees, rushing toward the sound, toward the scream.

"Wait here or go back to the farm!" He yelled back over his shoulder, but he wasn't listening to their answers, wasn't thinking about them, wasn't thinking about anything other than getting to you.

Because he knew that sound. Knew it all too well and knew what it meant.

The walker came down on you so fast you didn't even have a second to think, to move, to do anything other than hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the wind straight out of your lungs, your back slamming into the dirt, and your knife slipping from your fingers, just out of reach.

Its weight was pressing down on you heavily, the smell of rot, blood, and death suffocating your senses, its jaws wide open, teeth snapping only inches from your face, its fingers trying to tear into your flesh, and trying to sink its teeth into any part of your body it was able to reach.

You struggled. A lot.

Your hands shoved against its chest, your muscles burning from the adrenaline, your legs thrashing beneath it, trying to slip away from under its weight, trying to grab for something, for anything, for your knife, but the walker was too heavy. It was too strong, and no matter how hard you fought, it wouldn't move. It wouldn't stop, and it wouldn't let go.

Then—a disgusting, wet noise.

But there was no gunshot.

Because Rick didn't use his Colt Python.

No. He had a rock.

It was in his hand as he pulled the walker away from you, covered in blood, pieces of skull, and rotted flesh smeared against it, his breath coming out in fury as he stared down at what had almost—almost—taken you from him.

Rick's fingers ached. His entire arm trembled from the force he had used, but he didn't stop after the first hit.

He just kept swinging.

"Stupid—"

Crack. The first hit crushed its temple.

"Motherfuckin'—"

Crack. The second cracked its skull open.

"Piece of—"

Crack. The third caved its shattered face in, leaving nothing but bone and blood splattered across the dirt.

"Shit!"

It wasn't moving anymore. It wasn't even recognizable.

But Rick was still hovering over it, his fingers gripping the rock so tightly his knuckles had turned white, his entire body trembling, and breathing so hard it sounded like a long, endless growl.

You had never seen him like this before.

Not even when he was mad at Shane. Not even when the group was in chaos. Not even last night, when he had slipped into your tent and put his hands on you like a man who had already lost his mind.

But now? Now, he looked feral.

And when his eyes finally looked back up to meet yours—when you saw the way they burned, wild and pissed—you weren't sure if it was from anger or from something else entirely.

Something that made you forget how to breathe.

Before you could say something, before you could think, and before you could even process what just happened, Rick was pushing the dead body away, grabbing you, and yanking you up with so much force it almost hurt, his fingers digging in, dragging you to your feet, and pushing you back until your back hit a tree.

He was right there, towering over you, his eyes full of anger and his face full of rage, his chest rising and falling with every deep and furious breath.

Rick was enraged.

And you?

You still didn't even know what to do.

"You stupid—" Rick started, his voice nothing more than a snarl.

He was so close you could barely react, his fingers digging into your arms, holding you there, pinning you back against the bark of the tree as his eyes burned through you like he wanted to set you on fire.

"You outta your goddamn mind, sneakin' out here like that?!" He asked with his grip tightening, his whole body trembling with all that anger, all that frustration. "You got any idea what coulda happened to you? Any idea?"

You pushed against his hold, trying to shove him off, trying to create even an inch of space between you, but he was unmovable, too strong, every inch of him tense, like if he let go, if he even so much as relaxed for a second, he might do something reckless.

Something he couldn't take back.

"You don't get to be mad at me, Rick!" You shot back, your own frustration boiling over like two storms colliding. "Not when you—"

"The hell I don't!" He cut you off, his voice like thunder, as if he was close to losing his mind once more. "What were you even thinking, huh? Following me… us, out here?"

"You think I don't know what the hell I'm doing?" You shoved at his chest again, harder this time, pushing back, fighting back, your heart hammering against your ribs, adrenaline still surging through your veins from the walker attack, from the fear, from the fact that Rick was right here, all over you. "You don't get to act like you care about what happens to me when you can't even look at me, Rick!"

His breathing stopped, letting you feel the way his fingers tightened around your arms, and the way his whole body was so full of adrenaline as if he was trying hard to hold onto whatever bit of restraint he still had left.

"Are you outta your goddamn mind?" He asked again, but not expecting any answer.

You knew there'd be bruises later on your arms—not that you cared, not that you even felt it over everything else.

You weren't scared, but also not backing down.

"And what about you?" You shot back, your voice shaking from the situation alone, your chest rising and falling just as hard and fast as his, with your heart pounding against your ribs. But you were still trying to finally put the much-needed space between you, knowing full well he wasn't about to let you. "Because last time I checked, I wasn't the one creeping into somebody's tent in the middle of the goddamn night!"

Rick went still. Too still.

His breath hitched, and his fingers twitched against your skin. But he said nothing. He didn't deny it, and he didn't even blink. He just stood there, with his eyes staring deeply into yours.

That silence?

That silence made you want to scream, and before you could even think about stopping yourself, before you could even process what you were doing, the words were already tearing themselves freefrom your mouth.

"I know it was you," you spat at him, your breath coming out fast and heavy, your entire body shaking. "I felt you. I heard you. You were right there—right fucking there."

His grip turned tighter, making you wince in response.

"Shut up."

"You kissed me," you went on, still not looking away from his eyes. "You put your hands on me—"

"I said, shut the fuck up—"

"And now?" You continued, stuttering a little bit. "Now you wanna stand here and act like I'm the crazy one? Like I'm the problem? Like I didn't just see you standing next to Shane, looking like you were about to rip his goddamn throat out because he knows—"

And you saw it. That slight movement, that quick twitch in Rick's jaw as if he was about to smirk. That was the confirmation.

"You know Shane knows, don't you?" You asked him, your eyes narrowing and your voice dropping lower. "You know he knows that you fucked me."

"Don't."

That one word was a warning, but you couldn't care less.

"You think I don't see it? The way he won't stop smirking like he's just waiting for one of us to say something? And do you really think I don't know that he talked to you as well?"

Rick's hands moved away from your arms only to shove both hands into your hair on the back of your head, with his fingers digging in roughly, trying to hold something back and trying to keep control.

"Enough."

Rick's voice was different now.

Darker.

"You think I don't know? You think I don't know he knows? He told me. Yeah. He told me—"

And then—it broke. All of it. The rage. The frustration. It all broke in that simple moment.

Because one second, you were just there, daring him to do something, to act on anything, to move.

And then Rick's lips finally pushed full force against yours, hard, brutal, and all-consuming. He was swallowing up every one of your ragged breaths, every sound, and every bit of fight left in you like he was trying to erase it, trying to shut you up the only way he knew how.

His hands went away from your hair and the back of your head, his fingers grabbing, gripping, and dragging you in, pulling you against him as close as he could, and pressing his body down on yours like he needed to feel you, needing to make sure you were real, to make sure you were alive, and to make sure you were his.

You kissed him back like you were drowning, like you needed him just as bad, and like you wanted to tear him apart with your teeth, as if wanting to suffocate him with your tongue, all the while your hands clawed at his shirt, at his back, yanking him closer.

You barely even noticed him moving you away from the dead body before your back hit the ground a few trees away, the dirt and leaves pressing against your back, with Rick right there, covering you, pushing himself onto you, his hands already gripping at your thighs, spreading them wide and sliding beneath the hem of your dress.

"Fuck—" You gasped against his mouth, barely getting the word out before he devoured it, before his lips moved over yours again, before his hand gripped your jaw, fingers digging in like he wanted to keep you right there, right under him, right where he needed you to be, no matter the place.

Rick's breathing was fast, still furious, his body pressing against yours, one of his knees pushing up between your thighs to keep them spread, and the outline of his cock already throbbing against your thigh, being so hard it was painful.

God, you felt it…

Felt the way his hands touched, the way his mouth claimed, the way he devoured every inch of you he could reach, all heat and desperation, all frustration and need, like he was trying to consume you whole.

"This what you wanted, sweetheart?" His voice was a growl, all breathless and raw, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath ever so warm against your lips, and his hips already grinding against yours, already so far gone it was making you ache. "This what you were askin' for last night, after all. And you liked it… You, walkin' around naked in that little fuckin' dress, makin' me lose my goddamn mind—"

"Fuck you—"

"You already did."

And then his mouth was on you again, teeth moving roughly against your throat, fingers hiking your dress up and shoving it past your hips, his breath trembling as he was about to take you, as he finally—finally—did act.

Your hands were on his chest before you even knew what the hell you were doing, shoving, pushing, and tugging at his shirt like you wanted to rip it off, like you wanted to tear him apart the same way he was tearing you apart, inside and out. "Get off me," you said, breathless, furious, shaking with the kind of anger that burned hotter than anything else, hotter than his mouth on your skin, hotter than the way he was grinding into you, and hotter than the need you felt inside of you. "Get the fuck off me, Rick."

But he didn't move.

His chest heaving against your palms as he stared down at you, the expression on his face had turned into something that looked wrecked, something ruined, something that had already gone past the point of no return. His hands were still on you, fingers now finding their way to your thighs, your waist, your soul, and you felt like you were the one suffocating beneath him, beneath the weight of his, the weight of it all.

Beneath the lies, the guilt, the frustration, and the lust that had been building for months.

"You don't want that," he said quietly, calm even, making your stomach flip and your fingers twitch, making your hesitation crack almost in an instant. "Nah. You don't want me to stop."

"Fuck off," you hissed back at him, but you didn't really mean it anymore, and you weren't strong enough to push him away one way or another. No, your fingers were still holding onto his shirt; your body was still arching into his without thinking, without meaning to, without caring. "But you don't get to do that—you don't get to come to me in the dark, you don't get to put your hands on me, you don't get to want me when you're still acting like—like—"

"Like what?" His fingers grabbed you harder, rougher, more desperately, his eyes demanding your attention to be fully on him like he needed to hear you say it, and like he needed you to break right along with him. "Like I don't already know? Like I don't already know what she did, what he did, and what they both did? And what we—"

He cut himself off, his jaw clenching with the unspoken truth, with the reality that had been stabbed inside his thoughts like a knife since the second Shane had confronted him.

"Lori's baby ain't yours," you then let out, the words meant to make him hurt the way you were hurting, the way he made you hurt every time he pretended like this was nothing. "And you know it, Rick. You know. And deep down? Deep down you couldn't give less of a shit about it. Ain't that true?"

Rick huffed loudly like you'd just knocked the air out of his lungs, like you'd just taken the knife from his thoughts, only to ram it into his heart until he couldn't breathe.

You should've stopped there.

Should've let it be enough.

But it wasn't, not after the last night you spent staring at the ceiling of your tent after he'd left, replaying in your mind how his hands felt on you, his mouth, his voice whispering in your ear and sounding like he was falling apart. Of course, you couldn't stop thinking back as well… All the mornings where he wouldn't even look at you while at the Quarry, where he acted like you were nothing, where he went back to Lori like he hadn't kept an eye on you every single time you bent over or walked past him. No, you were invisible, and right now, you felt like you would be unseen all over again.

"You know it, and you're still choosing her," you pushed further, your own breath shaking now, and your own anger burning through every last rational thought you had left. "You're still holding onto something that ain't even real anymore—"

"I ain't choosing her," he snapped back, his voice breaking apart as his fingers tightened around you, as his body pressed you down, as his lips came so damn close to yours you could taste the breath he exhaled, the frustration, and the need. "You think I don't want this? You think I don't—" He stopped and swallowed hard, his throat feeling dry, his body trembling like he couldn't hold it together anymore, like he was breaking right there in front of you.

"But you don't get to want me when you're still fucking lying to yourself," you responded, and it came out quieter this time, as if all the fight was draining out of you like you were exhausted and you just couldn't take it anymore. "Again… You don't get to touch me like this and then pretend like it didn't happen. I can't—" Your voice cracked, and you hated it, hated the way it made you sound weak, greedy for something wrong, as if you were just as far gone as he was. "I can't fucking take it, Rick."

His fingers were at your jaw in a second, gripping it tightly, holding you there, forcing you to look at him, forcing you to see every single emotion behind those blue eyes.

"You think I can?" His voice was strained, barely even a whisper now. He wasn't just talking to you—he was talking to himself as well and trying to convince himself of whatever was going on inside his head. "You think this doesn't kill me since Atlanta? Wakin' up every morning, seein' you, knowin' I can't—" His breath hitched, making him gulp. "Knowin' I ain't supposed to—"

And that was it. Because your hands weren't pushing anymore.

Suddenly, your fingers were pulling, dragging him down, closing the space because you couldn't take it either anymore. It was too much. After all, you were drowning in it, suffocating in it, burning alive in it. In him.

And when Rick's lips pressed back against yours, it wasn't controlled, wasn't careful; it was only like he was trying to memorize the taste of you once more, to remember the taste of sin he'd already started to crave again.

Your nails went down his back once his fingers slid into your hair, his body pressing down hard, holding you there, owning you there, like he needed to feel every inch of you, needed to know you were his, even if he wouldn't say it.

"Rick," you moaned against his mouth, and his response was a groan, sounding quiet and wrecked, his hands gripping, his hips bucking, his body trembling as he kissed you like he needed you more than air, more than reason, more than whatever life he was trying so hard to hold onto.

"Tell me to stop," he stuttered, his forehead against yours, his breath shaking and muscles tense, like he was waiting for you to make the choice for him. "Tell me to walk away."

You didn't. Because you couldn't.

Instead, your legs wrapped around his waist, your fingers grabbing his hair, your lips finding his again, hard, needy, open, and desperate, and that was all it took.

For him to break completely.

When Rick pulled back just enough to look at you, his chest was rising and falling like he'd just fought for his life—like kissing you had been some kind of battle, some kind of war he was already too deep in to ever walk away from unscarred. And maybe it was. Maybe it always would be. Maybe that was why he was still here, his fingers now sliding under the hem of your dress like he couldn't help himself, like he had to feel you, had to know that you were real beneath him, warm and alive, and his for the taking, even if just for a moment.

But before Rick could let himself get lost in it, before he could let the fire in his blood burn him up from the inside out, he pushed himself up onto his forearms, his eyes looking over to the trees around you, listening to the uneasy silence that always meant one of two things—either you were alone, or something was waiting, watching, and creeping closer. His body tensed up as he tried to calm down his racing heart, ready to fight, to kill, to protect—until he was sure and certain that the only sound filling the empty woods was the ragged, uneven way you were breathing beneath him.

The second Rick's attention went back to you, the second he focused on the way your lips were parted and slightly swollen and the way your pupils were all wide, the way your chest rose and fell in quick, uneven movements, he was gone, already sliding his hands up, pushing your dress out of his way, and dragging it higher—knowing you wouldn't be wearing anything underneath—his mouth already back on you, already burning a path across your skin like he was trying to mark it.

And you let him.

You let him as his fingers dug into your waist, as his mouth found the soft, sweaty skin at your throat, as his lips moved lower, and his teeth biting the places he knew would make you sigh and shiver for more. Rick wanted to make you press your body up into his to make you need and want him closer. He wanted you to need him everywhere.

Like you needed him to break you apart just so he could put you back together again.

Once he licked his way down your neck and over your collarbone, his tongue then sliding slowly—so slowly—over your breasts, down to your stomach, lower and lower, his hands already holding on to your hips.

"God," you gasped, your hips bucking up on instinct, with your back arching and your legs spread wide, your whole body betraying you, giving into the desperation. "Rick—"

He growled in response, a deep sound that vibrated against your skin, making your thighs shake, and you could feel how gone he was, how much he needed this.

How much he needed you.

And then, before you could catch your breath, one hand was sliding lower, his fingers finding the wet, swollen folds of your pussy between your legs since he knew exactly just how much of a mess you already were for him.

"Shit," he groaned as if he wasn't just talking to you and more like he was talking to himself.

Rick couldn't believe how wet you were, how soaked you were just from him craving you, just from him grinding against you, and from the way his mouth felt on your skin.

His fingers started to tease you slowly at first, sliding through the slickness, parting you open, and pressing barely against your entrance, with his thumb rubbing against your clit ever so softly, but not enough—not even close to enough—just enough to make you moan.

Enough to make your thighs twitch, enough to make your nails dig into his shoulders, and bite your lip so hard you thought you might bleed.

And Rick felt the way your pussy clenched for him, the way your hips bucked up, and the way your breath hitched. That was it, because, in the next second, his mouth was going lower, pressing sloppy kisses down your body, as if it was the only thing that mattered anymore.

And then—then he was there.

His mouth was right where you wanted it to be.

And when his tongue slid out, when it ran slowly up your slit, parting it for him once more and tasting you, groaning deep and hungry against your pussy—you almost cried out loud.

Arching your back, your fingers were desperately trying to hold on to his hair, to keep your legs still, but all you could focus on was the way his tongue moved against you, devouring you like a man who had been starving for months, for years, for his whole life, like this was something he needed to survive.

Rick's hands immediately gripped your thighs harder, his fingers bruising, thumbs digging into your skin and wanting to hold you there, to keep you from moving, keep you from running, keep you from doing anything but taking it. And from the way he moved his tongue against your clit, the way he sucked it into his mouth and moaned against your pussy? The taste of you made him realize that this was the feeling he'd always craved in his life.

To be desired this much, just by existing and letting you feel him in return.

"Rick—" You choked out again in a pathetic sob, just a desperate, whiny plea as your body tensed, as you got closer, closer still, too close too fast.

But he didn't stop until you were gasping, whimpering, and shaking; he didn't slow down until you were crying his name quietly with a shaky voice and a trembling body, so wrecked, so ruined, and his all over again.

You were right there, right on the edge of an orgasm, your muscles straining in anticipation inside your body; it almost hurt, every nerve screaming silently for more. You could feel it in the way your thighs clenched around his head, the way your hips bucked up into his mouth, chasing it, needing it, knowing it was right there.

Until he stopped.

Simply stopped.

One second, his mouth was on you, devouring you, his tongue working you over like he was on a mission to destroy you completely, and the next?

Nothing.

Just the cold shock of a sudden loss, of being denied when you were already on the edge, and about to get wetter and wetter for him since the second he had laid his hands on you.

To come all over his face, just like he had on yours the night before.

You let out a cry that barely even sounded like it came from you, your hips bucking up and your pussy desperately chasing after his mouth, after his tongue, after anything to replace the sudden, unbearable emptiness between your thighs, but Rick just laughed in amusement, which made your whole body burn with heat because he knew exactly what he was doing.

Starting to twist your fingers in his hair, making your nails dig into his scalp, you tried to push his head back down. To force him back where you needed him, but Rick still wouldn't move, his fingers pressing bruises into your skin as he pulled back just enough to look at you with wet, swollen lips that were shining with just how soaked you were for him.

"Look at you," he grumbled, voice rough, teasing, mocking even.

You wanted to kill him for it, wanted to slap him; maybe at that moment you even wanted to break him apart once more—but mostly, you wanted to come for him, wanted to grab his hair and shove his mouth back where it belonged and take what you needed.

"So fuckin' needy now, huh? Where'd all that attitude go, sweetheart? Thought you had somethin' to say to me about a minute ago."

"You'd let me do anything to you, wouldn't you? Say it, sweetheart. Say you want me to eat you out."

You whimpered, fingers still scraping against his scalp, but didn't answer. You only sobbed in response, half a warning and half begging, again trying to pull him back down, but he only grinned until he decided to make his way toward your pussy again.

"Mhm…" Rick's tongue flicked against your clit, just enough to make you shiver until he pulled back a bit. "Ain't gonna say it? Guess I'll have to make you cry some more then. I wanna hear more of 'em pretty lil' sobs."

When he leaned back in and his lips finally touched you again, it wasn't the same as before—it wasn't the desperate kind of hunger that had been there, and it wasn't the fast, unbearable way he had been tasting you, no.

Now, he was taking his time.

Rick hummed against your inner thigh, leaving behind an open-mouthed, sloppy kiss like he had all the time in the world, like he wasn't torturing you. "Y'know what's really cute?"

"Shut up," you spat out, trying to force him back to your pussy. "Just—just fucking do it!"

Rick laughed—actually laughed, his breath warm, his fingers still barely teasing the wetness between your thighs. "Oh… you beg real pretty, y'know that?"

"Rick—"

He cut you off by dragging his tongue over your clit in sudden, lazy, torturous strokes that weren't nearly enough, and he wasn't letting you have it.

"You remember last night, sweetheart?" He grumbled against you, taunting you. "How you rode me, got me all worked up, had me right fuckin' there—" His tongue licked your clit again, just for a second, just enough to make you whine like he wanted you to, "—and then you just slid right off? Left me standin' there, hard as a fuckin' rock, while you got on your knees and put that sweet little mouth on me instead?"

You knew what this was now, knew exactly what he was doing, and why he was holding you here, keeping you right on the edge on purpose.

He was punishing you.

"Rick, I—" You started once more, your voice breathless, uneven, and pleading, but still, he wasn't letting you come for him just yet.

And when you tried to grind up into his mouth, tried to push yourself over the edge, he held you down, his grip tightening, his breath ragged as he grumbled, "Nah. Not yet."

You could've killed him. Again, you wanted to. Could've killed him for this, for the way he was keeping you here, for the way he was playing with you, for the way he was controlling this, controlling you, making you suffer for what you did to him the night before, for leaving him hanging, for teasing him, and for making him lose his mind when you had stopped.

But the worst part?

The worst part was that it was working.

The worst part was that you were falling apart for him in return, that you were sobbing for him, that you would've said anything, would've begged for anything, would've given him anything if it meant he'd just let you have it.

Suddenly, you heard it, with you getting immediately pulled away from this high—you heard it somewhere past the trees, beyond the branches, dead leaves, and the suffocating feeling from the heat of Rick's mouth on you.

Something cracked, something moved; you were sure of it, and it was enough to make your fingers twist in his hair for an entirely different reason as your head snapped up.

But Rick—he didn't even care.

He didn't lift his head at all, didn't stop dragging his tongue over the inside of your thigh, slow and lazy like he hadn't just had you on the edge of a breakdown, with your body being a trembling mess that was spread out on the forest floor as if he had all the time in the world, even when you knew he didn't.

Every second wasted was another chance at something going wrong, at someone coming looking for you, or a walker creeping up from behind the trees.

"I heard something," you breathed out, trying to push up on your elbows and see past the branches and shadows, but Rick just tightened his grip, holding you down.

"We're gonna make it quick," he answered, making you feel every touch of his lips, his tongue, and his teeth as he moved over you, kissing and biting, inching further up with every passing second, making it clear that whatever you thought you heard, whatever danger might be hiding behind the trees, it wasn't about to stop him.

Maybe you should have pushed him off; maybe you should have listened to that uneasy feeling in the back of your mind, but instead, you just lay there—knowing that he was the one in control.

And maybe that was why you couldn't stop yourself—maybe that was why, instead of just letting it happen, instead of drowning back into the way his mouth was moving higher, already crawling back up to lick over your stomach, you had to ruin it.

"I—" You started, voice still breathless and uneven, "Shane told me something interesting..."

You felt Rick stop in an instant.

It wasn't obvious—not at first, not enough that anyone else would have noticed, but you did.

The way his breath hitched, just a bit. The way his lips paused against your ribs, staying there for a second too long like he was bracing himself for whatever was about to come out of your mouth.

"Lori's pregnant, isn't she?" You continued, keeping your voice casual, almost amused, because now you wanted to see what he would do, wanted to see how he would react.

Rick? He didn't say anything. He didn't immediately try to deny it, didn't try to tell you Shane was lying, and didn't even try to tell you it wasn't any of your business.

His hands only slid higher, up your body, pulling you with him and forcing you closer, forcing you to look at him and to feel him, and to watch as his fingers reached for his belt, undoing it to open his pants, like he was daring you to keep talking. He was giving you one more chance to shut up before he made you regret every word that had just come out of your mouth.

"Bet you don't even know if it's yours, do you?" You continued harshly, your voice quieter now, softer, while something angry but also sad could be heard beneath those words, something that dug in, because you wanted him to know that he wasn't the only one who could take control.

That he wasn't the only one who could get inside someone else's head the way he had tried to get inside yours.

But Rick just laughed, shaking his head. And it wasn't the kind of laughter that was meant to be heard as he leaned in.

"It ain't."

And then—then his mouth was on you again.

His lips were trying to take back the control you had just stolen from him, trying to reclaim the power as he kissed his way back up your body, dragging his tongue over your throat, each sloppy kiss feeling possessive, almost angry, like he wasn't sure if he wanted to devour you or destroy you.

And God, you wanted to let him as soon as he was biting and kissing your lips, groaning into your mouth.

But when he shoved his pants down just enough to free himself, you tensed up, your fingers digging into his shoulders, that panic rising up in your body, because you could hear the noises deep inside the surrounding woods still around you. The branches creaking, the wind rustling through the trees, the distant sound of something still moving out there.

And it didn't matter if it was a walker or just the wind; the fear of it made its way into your head all over; it still made you want to push him back, because as much as you wanted this, you also didn't want to die with his cock inside you.

"But—" Your voice barely made it past your lips, too scared, too quiet, and you swallowed hard, shaking your head as you tried to get your thoughts together, but it was useless when he was this close. "Rick, we—"

"I got you," he reassured you, cutting you off before you could even finish the sentence, his voice quieter now, like the anger had burned itself out the second he felt you hesitate. His forehead dropped against yours, his fingers trailing down the side of your neck, his touch so tender it almost made you moan. "I got you, alright? Ain't nothin' gonna happen to you."

You sucked in a quick breath, your heart hammering against your ribs, but you still didn't move, not when the fear was still in your head.

"What if—"

"They ain't out there," he said, cutting you off again. "Ain't nothin' out there, sweetheart. Only you and me right now. Just look at me. Don't think about nothin' else, just me."

His cock was pushing against your pussy now, slick with how wet you already were, the head nudging against your clit ever so often.

"You're still thinkin' about what's out there, aren't you?" He mumbled. "Ain't nothin' gonna touch you. But I will."

Without waiting, he pushed in just an inch, enough to make you gasp, but pulled back just as quick.

"You feel that?" Rick growled, his forehead still against yours. "That's all you need to worry ‘bout right now. How good I'm about to make you feel. Nothin' else. Just this."

You looked at him, at those deep blue eyes watching you, at the way his face was slightly red, and his brows narrowed like he was barely holding himself together.

When his hands grabbed your thighs to lift your legs, wrapping them around his waist, the head of his cock still rubbing right against your clit, you let out this quiet, desperate little sound that had him moan, his hands tightening on you like he wanted to crawl inside you and never leave.

"Yeah… that's it," he groaned, his lips just above yours. "You with me?"

You nodded, feeling a little too dizzy to even form words, and that was all he needed—one second, you were barely holding onto him, and the next, he was pushing his cock inside you, stretching you open and making you gasp, your body trembling from how overwhelming he felt.

"There you go," Rick whispered, kissing your temple ever so softly, his hands gripping your waist as he pushed in deeper, filling you up completely, his voice slightly strained, like he was trying to take his time even though you could feel the way he was trembling as well, the way he was struggling not to just slam into you. "That's a good girl. Feels good, don't it?"

Simply nodding once more against his shoulder while your body adjusted to him, the feeling of his cock inside you was starting to push away the fear. And when you finally bucked your hips up to meet his, Rick let out this deep, wrecked moan, his fingers tightening on you as he finally started to move, slow but deep, making sure you felt every inch of him.

It was different this time. Not like the night before.

There was no rush in it now, no guilt. Just heat, just need, just the way his hands trembled against your skin, the way he kissed you between gasps, between praises, whispering, "You're doing so goddamn good, you know that? Doing so fuckin' good for me."

Rick knew you wanted this. He could feel how much you wanted it with the way you held on to him, the way you were already so wet for him, pulling him in, keeping him there, but he wasn't about to let you get lost in it—not when he had you like this, not when he had you wrapped around him, gasping against his skin, melting into him in a way that made something inside him go weak and desperate at once.

So he didn't do much at first; he just let one of his hands slide up until he was cradling the back of your head, his fingers moving into your hair as he pulled you in close, pressing your face against his shoulder, against the sweaty fabric of his shirt, letting you feel the warmth of him as he quietly moaned into your ear.

"There you go," he whispered, his voice sending a shiver straight through you. "Just hold onto me, alright? Keep quiet, sweetheart. That's it."

And when you let out this soft, muffled sound against his neck, something halfway between a sob and a shaky whine, with your arms tightening around him like you were trying to press yourself closer to him, Rick felt it—the way your body started to relax, the way that fear started to melt away, piece by piece.

That did something to him.

The way you trusted him enough to let go and let him keep you quiet, the way you let him keep you safe while he was buried so deep inside you it barely even felt like you were two separate people anymore—and he wasn't sure if he could handle that.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he groaned against your hair, his fingers tightening on the back of your head. "You feel so goddamn good…"

You made another soft, helpless sound, barely more than a whimper against his skin. Rick's other hand was holding one of your legs as he pushed his hips back, pulling every inch of himself out until only the head of his cock remained inside of your pussy before pushing forward again, deeper this time, making sure you had no choice but to feel how hard he was throbbing for you.

"Taking me so damn well," he praised, his voice rough but gentle as if he couldn't believe how perfect you felt around him. "So fuckin' desperate for me…"

And that—God, that made you shake against him. It made you gasp all quietly against his shoulder like you were trying so hard to keep from making too much noise. But Rick wanted to hear you, wanted to get those sweet sounds of lust out of you, wanted to get you so lost in it that you forgot about everything else—forgot about the walkers, forgot about the group, forgot about the way he'd been avoiding you the whole day until now.

So he kept his movements deep, grinding into you in these long, slow strokes, making sure you felt every bit of his cock, making sure you had no room to think about anything else except how good he was making you feel.

"Just like that," he whispered into your ear, his voice all low and tender. "You love that, don't you? Tryin' so hard to keep quiet…"

It was almost too much for Rick as well. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold back, wasn't sure how much longer he could keep from completely losing himself in you.

"Look at you," he breathed out against your skin, his fingers tightening on your thigh, his grip almost bruising now as he fucked into you. "My good girl, aren't you?"

Shit…

The way you clenched around him at those words—it almost made him lose it right then and there.

"Yeah, that got you, huh?" He smirked, putting his lips to your cheek, his fingers still holding the back of your head. "You like bein' my good girl?"

Rick's hand went to your neck as his hips pressed against yours, keeping you full and stretched around his cock. When you tried to turn your head, he didn't let you. He kept your face right there, inches from his, forcing you to look at him.

"Don't go hidin' from me now," he laughed quietly, his breath heavy against your lips. "You cryin', aren't you?"

You shook your head, but it was useless. He could feel and see it—your body trembling, breath uneven, and your eyes wet with the tears that threatened to roll down your face.

"Lyin' to me, too?" Rick smiled, tilting his head as his cock pulsed deep inside you, drawing out a wrecked little sob from you. "Tell me why, then. Why're you all teary-eyed, huh?"

"Rick, I—" Your voice trembled, but he wasn't letting you get away with it.

"Come on, sweetheart," he pushed, grinding into you again, making you moan, and your pussy tighten around him, pulling a deep groan from his throat. "Tell me. Ain't gonna stop ‘til you do. Admit that you're cryin' for me."

You swallowed hard, your whole body burning from how deep his cock was hitting, from the way his words went straight inside your head. You were trying to fight it, but you couldn't. You felt yourself breaking, felt your heart racing, and Rick could feel it, too.

He was waiting for it.

"Be my good girl," he whispered. "Admit that you're cryin' for me ‘cause I'm makin' you feel that damn good." He brushed his lips over your cheek, over the tear that had finally fallen. "Bet you love it, don't you? Bet you love bein' my sweet little girl."

You sobbed again, nodding fast as he pushed deeper, harder, to drink in the way you were crumbling beneath him.

"C'mon," he urged, licking the tear from your cheek and pressing wet kisses down your jaw. "Gonna take care of you, sweetheart. Gonna fuck you just how you need it. Just admit it."

You sobbed again, barely able to hold back the sound, and Rick smirked in return.

"Bet you'd let me fuck you like this every goddamn night—keep you bouncing on my cock ‘til you can't think straight, ‘til all you can do is beg for more."

You were sobbing harder now, your pussy squeezing around his cock so tight that Rick groanedas he picked up the pace just a little. And he saw it before he even heard it—the way your breath hitched, the way your eyes squeezed shut as another tear rolled down your cheek.

"Shit," he smirked, his voice all rough and uneven now. "Bet you love cryin' for me. Why don't you just tell me, huh?"

You shook your head again, your whole body trembling against him, but your eyes were all wet and shiny. "N-no," you whimpered in response, trying to calm yourself down. "I—"

You sucked in a shaky breath as Rick suddenly pushed hard and fast into you, making you let out another little sob, "You just—Rick, you talk to me like that, and I can't—"

"You can't… what? Tell me, why do I see tears on your pretty little face?" He let his thumb swipe over the wetness under one of your eyes, his gaze locked onto yours as he forced you to acknowledge it. "Ain't nothin' wrong, is there?"

"No," you whimpered, gasping as his cock twitched inside you, every thick inch pressing against that spot that had you clenching around him.

"So, what is it?" He demanded again, rocking his hips just once to tease you, barely pulling out before sinking back in deep, watching your mouth fall open at the feeling. "Tell me. Now."

You swallowed hard, your fingers digging into his biceps now, your whole body burning. "I—I can't help it, you just—" You let out another shaky breath, trying to look away, but he wasn't having it.

Rick grabbed your chin once more, forcing your gaze back to his. "Nah, sweetheart. You don't get to hide from me." He leaned in, his lips licking over yours, taunting you, but still holding back. "You're cryin' ‘cause it feels that fuckin' good, huh?"

You let out a helpless little noise, and your eyes squeezed shut, but Rick wasn't letting you escape it. His grip stayed, his cock still deep inside your pussy.

"I wanna hear you say it," he continued. "Tell me how good I make you feel."

Your breath hitched, another tear slipping from your eyes. "S-so good, Rick," you whispered with a needy voice. "You make me feel s-so good, I—fuck, I just—"

Rick let out a deep, satisfied groan, kissing the tear off your skin. "That's my good girl… So fuckin' pretty when you cry so lovely for me."

Then, without warning, he started slamming deeper into you, harder, dragging more choked sobs from your lips.

"S-shit—!"

Rick groaned against your skin, his hands soon gripping both your thighs as he started to move faster. "That's what I want," he commanded. "Wanna hear you cry for me."

And you did.

Because the way he started to fuck you now—faster, rougher, keeping you full with every stroke—made your head spin and your back arch up against him. It made you whimper and cry every time his cock pushed against the spot inside you that had your whole body on edge.

"That's it, sweetheart," he whispered. "So fuckin' good for me—feel how tight you're squeezin' me?"

You let out a breathless little cry, not able to answer.

"Goddamn," Rick groaned, his thrusts picking up, still deep but quicker now, his control slipping with every sound you made. "You cryin' on my cock… Fuckin' love it—"

He was losing himself in you, but still, he wasn't done with you yet. Not until he had made you come for him.

He put a hand between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing it softly and just right. "I wanna feel it," he whispered, his voice strained. "Wanna feel you come around me."

You moaned for him, your body tensing as you got closer and closer.

Rick was barely even thinking now, not even trying to hold back, and when you gasped, when your whole body shook against him that he could barely move, Rick realized—too late—that he wasn't gonna be able to stop himself. But he wanted to see it—wanted to watch you come before he lost himself, before he let go.

"You gonna come for me? Gonna come all over my cock? C'mon, come for me," he growled, his fingers pressing down harder and his hips grinding against yours with each deep, punishing thrust. "Give it to me, sweetheart. Let me feel it."

You let him.

Your whole body went stiff, your pussy squeezing around him so hard that Rick let out a ragged, choked moan, with his grip on you tightening as he fucked you through it, refusing to stop, making sure you felt every second of it.

"Good girl," he choked out, still grinding into you, watching your face as you came apart beneath him. "You feel so fuckin' good…"

He should've pulled out. He knew he should've. But shit—watching you like this, feeling you like this, the way you were still trembling around him, still sobbing for him?

"Fuck—"

His movements turned uneven, his cock pulsing inside you as his hips jerked forward, his head dropping to your shoulder as he lost control, burying himself in your pussy over and over.

Then he lost it.

His control broke all at once. His thrusts turned erratic and rough, his cock slamming into you deeper, and he cursed, a strangled, desperate sound leaving his lips as he bit down on your neck and held you close.

"Fuck—I—" His whole body tensed up, and then he came—barely pulling out in time before he came against your thigh, his cum way too close to where it shouldn't be.

"Shit, shit, shit," he grumbled, his voice panicked, his hands now gripping at your hip, and his mind spinning.

"Rick," you breathed, your voice still shaky, still wrecked, still catching on the end of your orgasm. "Tell me—tell me you didn't—"

"I pulled out!" He cut in fast, too fast, like he was trying to convince himself as much as you, like saying it out loud would somehow make it true. "I pulled out, alright? Just—"

He immediately ran a hand down his face, his breath coming too fast, but he couldn't stop thinking about it, couldn't stop replaying this moment in his head, couldn't stop panicking, because it was too close, too risky, too stupid. "Jesus Christ..."

You were staring at him now, your chest still rising and falling all uneven, your pupils still wide, your body still trembling, but there was fear to be seen in your expression now, real fear, and that? That made Rick want to vomit on the spot when he felt his stomach drop.

"We're okay," he quickly said, but even as the words left his mouth, he wasn't sure he believed them, wasn't sure if he was saying them for your sake or his, because he didn't know; he really didn't know.

"We… we don't know that."

Your voice was still strained, but it didn't matter because the second those words left your mouth, they hit Rick like a bullet to the head, tearing straight through him, because you were right, and that was the problem, wasn't it? That was what made him almost puke, what was making his pulse race too fast, and what made him feel like he couldn't breathe—because you didn't know, because he didn't know, because neither of you could be here and pretend the risk wasn't there.

His jaw was clenched tight, his breath still uneven as he sat back on his heels, one hand caressing your thigh while the other went to grip his leg, but he didn't even realize he was shaking until he saw his own fingers tremble against your skin instead of his.

Rick's eyes looked down between your legs, down to where he could still see his cum smeared all over your thigh, way too close, and his stomach twisted itself into a knot so hard he thought he might actually be sick.

"Rick," you said again, more urgent this time, and when he moved his gaze back up to yours, he could see the panic, could see the way your chest was rising too fast, and the way your eyes were wide and glassy with actual tears. And that? That just made him feel worse.

"You should've pulled out sooner," you then said, and there it was, you sounding judgmental, and maybe you didn't mean for it to come out like that, maybe you weren't even thinking about how it sounded, but Rick was.

"Excuse me?"

"What… It simply means you should've pulled out sooner!" You stuttered, shoving at his chest, and even though you were still underneath him, still all shaky from what just happened, that panic was starting to turn into anger, and Rick could feel his own temper start to rise right alongside yours. "Jesus, Rick, do you not fucking get it? What if—"

"Oh, I get it," he cut in fast, not wanting you to panic even more.

"Do you?" You shot back, grabbing your dress and putting it back on as fast as you could. But your voice sounded like a betrayal, as if you couldn't believe him and thought he wasn't taking this seriously enough. And that? That just pissed him off more.

Rick let out a deep breath, dragging both hands through his hair, trying to think, trying to breathe, but it wasn't working, because his blood was running too hot, his mind was spinning too fast, and all he could think about was how stupid he'd been and how reckless.

"I can't be the next goddamn woman carrying a baby," you suddenly whispered, barely able to say it, barely able to breathe past it, because this? This was real, this was happening, and it was too much, way too much. "Not in this world… Not when your wife—"

Rick sucked in a slow, quick breath through his nose, his fingers twitching, and then, before you could say another thing, he let out this short laugh—humorless.

"Oh, here we go again," he cut you off, rubbing a hand down his face. "Lori. You really wanna talk about her right now? Is that what you're tryin' to do? Tryin' to remind me?"

"Rick, I—I'm not trying to—"

"Yes, you are. Always bringin' her up. Always throwin' her between us like she's what's stoppin' this!"

Your heart was racing. "Isn't she? She still… loves you."

"She fucked Shane." Rick let out another laugh—this one quieter, sadder, almost like he was laughing at himself. "But that's not what you're askin', is it?"

You blinked, your breath hitching. "Rick… she thought you were dead!"

"Stop it," he said it so plainly that your whole body went still. "I know why you bring her up. It's not about Lori; it's about you. About this."

You looked away fast, but he wasn't having it. He grabbed your chin, tilting your face back to his, forcing you to see him.

"Well? Am I wrong?"

"I don't know what you mean…" You answered quietly because you already knew, of course.

"Means you're the one that wanted this in the first place," he answered, but not in an angry way, just tired, sounding frustrated. "You knew the risk. You knew what could happen. Same as me."

Rick's eyes looked down to your mouth, then back up to your wet eyes, and his voice softened—just a little bit and just enough to make you want to cry some more.

"You think I don't know how risky this is?" He asked, shaking his head before he finally stood up, putting his softening cock back into his pants and fastening the belt. "You think I didn't lose sleep over it? Over you?" His voice cracked slightly, but he didn't stop, didn't let you answer him, until he said something he didn't mean to.

"But you're the one that came to me. You're the one that wanted me."

"Are you fucking serious?" You finally answered in shock, your voice sounding close to rage. "You really wanna put the blame on me?"

"Ain't that what happened?"

"Oh, fuck off, Rick," you snapped, standing up fast and shoving at his chest, hard enough that he actually stumbled back a little. "You wanted this just as much as I did; don't act like you didn't—don't act like this was all me!"

His eyes widened, but he didn't say anything, and that just pissed you off more.

"Maybe," you let out a humorless laugh. "Maybe I was stupid to think this actually could mean something to you."

Rick looked back over to you, but you didn't let him talk.

"Guess I was just some—what... a distraction? Something to make you forget about your wife fucking Shane behind your back?"

Rick stiffened.

That hit.

Your lips were trembling now, and you hated the way your throat tightened when you swallowed. "You can't even say it, can you?"

Rick opened his mouth, but nothing came out at first, like he was struggling to find the right words—any words.

"Lori's got nothin' to do with this," he finally answered.

"Bullshit," you shot back instantly.

"No, no, it ain't about her," he continued, shaking his head. "Not with… not with you."

You looked up at the sky, trying not to burst into tears, and you weren't sure if you wanted to scream at him or kiss him.

Rick stood up straighter, his hand reaching out like he wanted to touch you, to hold you, but then he hesitated—like he wasn't sure if he even should.

"This wasn't just about the sex, not with you."

You blinked fast, trying to keep from breaking, trying to fight whatever it was that was hurting you deep inside.

"Then why don't you say it?"

"Maybe ‘cause I don't know what the hell to do about it. About us… and then there's Shane. You know it, too."

"I'm—I'm scared," you whispered, barely even realizing you were saying it, not even meaning to.

With that, Rick sighed. Not in a bitter way, just deep. Slow. Like he was finally letting himself feel it.

"Yeah," he responded, his voice calmer now. "Me too."

Trying to keep the tears from running down your cheeks, Rick was leaning in again, finally reaching out and hugging you tightly. "We'll figure it out. Glenn got those pills for Lori. She threw ‘em up, but he knows where they came from."

Putting your arms around him, Rick tilted his head, leaning in close to your ear, forcing you to focus and to listen.

"We'll go get ‘em," he whispered quietly. "If we have to."

And then—then he kissed you.

Soft. Gentle. Like he couldn't help it. Like it was the only thing keeping him from losing his mind right now.

So instead of snapping at you again, instead of letting that panic out, instead of making this worse than it already was, he just let out another slow breath and reached for your face, his fingers brushing along your jaw, his thumb swiping over your cheek as he touched it, pressing his lips against yours and trying to calm you down, to push away the fear with something real.

Him.

For a moment, Rick wasn't thinking about Lori, about Shane, about the farm, about anything except you.

Because you were here, in front of him. And it hit him then, so suddenly and so violently it nearly knocked the breath out of his lungs. How much he wanted you. Not just like this, not just for fun, not just to shut you up—just you.

His grip on your jaw tightened, just enough to make sure you didn't pull away before he kissed you harder this time—his lips parting against yours, his body pressing into you like he needed to know this wasn't slipping through his fingers the way everything else was.

You gasped softly, but it was enough. Enough for him to push, to hold you close and slip his tongue past your lips, tasting you, drinking you in like a dying man.

God, he could get lost in this.

He could stay right here, could forget it all, could just be.

But then you pulled back, your lips swollen. "…Rick?" Your voice was questioning, like you felt it too, and you knew he wasn't trying to shut you up. You knew this wasn't just about calming you down. "Are you okay?"

"I… I think I—"

He almost said it. The words had been right there, on his tongue, ready to slip past his lips. But he swallowed hard, forcing himself to stop.

"…I think I just need you to breathe, sweetheart," he said instead, his mind still catching up to what had happened between you. His hand moved down, fingers sliding down your throat, feeling your pulse race beneath his fingertips. "With me… C'mon, breathe," he whispered against your lips, his voice still rough but quieter now, more controlled.

You exhaled slowly against his mouth, still trembling but starting to calm down, starting to relax, and Rick took that as a win, took that as enough, took that as proof that maybe, just maybe, you could get through this without being scared of what might happen.

"Just breathe. Don't ever run from me."

Don't run from him?

Wasn't Rick the one who started acting like this wasn't happening? Like this wasn't something deeper, something impossible to come back from?

But before you could talk about any of that—before you could say anything at all…

BANG.

A sudden gunshot rang out like an explosion, destroying the moment and sending both of you into shock, and for a second, neither of you moved. You just froze, just listened, just waited.

BANG.

Another shot, then another, closer together this time, and Rick's eyes widened, because that wasn't hunting and definitely wasn't practice.

"No…" He whispered, already trying to process what was happening, and you were right there with him, scrambling to even out the dress and get rid of the dirt that was still clinging to it.

"What was that? What is going on?" You hissed, your voice urgent, your eyes wide, and Rick was just about to answer.

BANG.

Another shot, then another, and another, almost rapid-fire by now, and then, it clicked.

The barn.

Rick's head snapped toward the direction of the farm, his pulse quickening, because no, no, no, no, that wasn't what he thought it was, was it?

And then—shouting.

Muffled at first, distant but getting louder, and Rick barely had time to process it before he was grabbing you, gripping your wrist, and yanking you with him, running toward the noise.

BANG.

Another shot. And this time, Rick heard it—the inhuman groans.

Walkers.

"Shane…" He snarled, gripping you tighter, pulling you faster, his heart racing.

You and Rick had barely made it halfway back to the farm when Dale came rushing toward you from the woods as well, his face full of shock as he stumbled to a stop in front of you, eyes looking between you and Rick like he was trying to figure out whether or not you already knew.

"Rick," Dale panted. "It's the barn—Shane—he just—"

"We know, Dale, we know," Rick cut in fast, all business now, all instinct, his panic shoved down from what you and he had just talked about. "We heard it."

Dale shook his head, his hands clenching into fists at his sides like he didn't even know what to do with them. "He let them out," he gasped. "The walkers—Hershel's people—and Shane—he lost it, he—"

Rick didn't wait for him to finish.

He just grabbed your wrist again and started hurrying up, pulling you with him once more and dragging you both toward whatever hell was waiting ahead, with Dale following before the three of you rushed across the field until the farm came fully into view.

And that was when you saw it.

The barn doors were wide open, and from the inside, they were still stumbling out, groaning and moving their rotting bodies into the sun.

The rest of the group was already there, scattered in front of the barn in a half-circle, weapons raised, some already firing, some still frozen in the background, some still trying to process what was even happening. Further back, you saw Hershel, you saw Maggie, and you saw Beth, Jimmy, and Patricia. You saw the horror on their faces as everything they had been trying to ignore, trying to deny, and trying to pretend wasn't real came crawling out into the daylight, proving them all wrong.

But you barely had time for any of it before another shot rang out—Shane leading the charge, his face full of fury and anger, like he had been waiting for this, his own kind of justice.

One by one, the walkers dropped dead to the ground, with the sound of soulless bodies hitting the dirt, and slowly, the chaos started to turn into something closer to an ending.

But then, the last walker stepped out of the barn. And the world stopped.

She was small. So very young.

She wasn't supposed to be here.

She wasn't supposed to be like this.

Sophia…

"Sophia? Sophia… Oh, no... Sophia… Sophia... No—"

Carol's cry broke the silence, and before you could even process what you were seeing, she was running forward, calling her daughter's name and reaching for her, her voice cracking. But Daryl was on her in seconds, holding her back, saying, "Don't watch."

And Rick?

Rick was still standing next to you, trying to hold onto that same control he always had, but you saw it. You saw the way his fingers flexed around his revolver and saw the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard.

Then, he moved.

One step forward. Then another.

Gun raised.

No hesitation. No turning back.

And when the shot rang out, loud and final through the fields, Sophia fell to the ground, dead. And in that moment, Carol's heart died right along with her.

Nobody moved.

Nobody spoke.

Even Shane, who had been so full of rage just seconds ago, was frozen now, staring, his weapon still in his hands.

Not until Carl sniffled in the background, while Lori was pulling him into her arms, shielding his face and telling him not to look.

Rick still stood there, staring down at Sophia's small, lifeless body, his gun still raised but lowering it slowly, his whole body still rigid as if he was waiting for something, like he was trying to process what he had just done, and for the first time since you met him, he looked… lost.

You reached for him before you even realized what you were doing, your fingers grabbing his wrist, and at first, he didn't react, didn't acknowledge it, didn't even seem to feel it—but then, slowly, painfully, he let out a deep breath, and without looking at you, without saying a word, he let you take the weapon from his hands.

As the group stood there and the reality of what had just happened sank in, with the sun burning too bright overhead and shining down at the blood that soaked into the dirt, Rick finally turned around. He looked at you, letting you see the exhaustion in his face, the grief.

Since the second he had lowered the gun, the second it really hit—that this wasn't just a walker, not just another nameless, faceless corpse, and not just another body to bury—this was Carol's daughter, her little girl, the one you all had spent days searching for, the one you had hoped for, the one you had all convinced yourselves was still alive out there—his whole body sagged.

It was over. The search for Carol's daughter. Along with the hope to still find Sophia alive.

Just like that.

Andrea, who had been so eager to prove herself, who had been one of the first to draw her gun when Shane snapped, had been ready to take the shot at every single walker that stumbled out of that barn—but not this one.

Hershel, who had seen this moment coming the second Shane put foot on his land and who had been kneeling there in shock, has watched his wife, neighbors, and loved ones get gunned down one by one, but he hadn't looked truly defeated until now.

You braced yourself, your heart still racing too fast, because you thought now that it was over and took his revolver, Rick might look at you, or he'd search for your eyes, that he'd need something from you—your presence, maybe even your touch, something to help him, something to keep him from drowning in whatever this had just done to him.

But he didn't.

He didn't look at you at all.

He looked past you.

Straight to Lori. Straight to Carl.

Straight to the family that was still his, that would always be his, no matter what, and no matter where.

Even after the way his hands had been on you just minutes ago, gripping, shaking, needing, even after the way his mouth had been on you, his tongue, his…

You clenched your jaw.

This?

This was a reminder.

Of who he was. Of what you were.

And Shane? Shane saw it. He saw you standing there all stiff, and when you tore your gaze away from Rick, only then did you feel Shane's eyes on you—there he was.

Watching. Knowing.

Because of course, he knew.

And he was smirking. That tiny, knowing smirk that was barely even obvious, that barely looked like amusement, and that barely counted as anything other than a warning.

Because he knew exactly where you had been before this. He knew exactly why Rick had been late and why he hadn't come back with Hershel and Jimmy. He knew exactly what Rick had been doing when he should've been here. And he knew exactly why he was coming back with you by his side.

Now you knew that he wasn't ever gonna let that go. He tilted his head just slightly, just enough for you to notice. Just enough to say—told you so.

And you?

You realized that you had given yourself to Rick Grimes like a sin, and now you stood here, understanding the truth—you weren't his salvation.

You were just another taste of his damnation.

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆: So, funny (or not-so-funny) story—Tumblr shadowbanned this post for a few days, and I have no idea if anyone actually saw it before it came back. So, if you're seeing this new repost of it now, where did it show up for you? Dash? Blog? Tags? A smoke signal in the sky? I'd appreciate any comment! Because I was literally fighting for my life trying to get this post visible, and now I'm lowkey paranoid.

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cheer-nympho · 8 months ago

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The older kids all have wills.

Nancy, Robin, Steve and Jonathan, ages 18 to 21, all have wills tucked away in various boxes under beds and behind wardrobes.

Their similarities only extending to the fear felt when writing them, mixed with resigned acceptance. A common feeling of “Man, it sure is sad that my late teenage years are spent contemplating the very real possibility of gruesome early death, I should be at the club.”

But in every other aspect they are completely different.

Nancy’s was written on a cream notepad with dainty flowers surrounding the border. Written from a view of logic and forward planning, a need to protect her family. All of the demands straight to the point, no nonsense.

Warped only by the small tear stains across the bottom.

Robin’s was clearly written in a panic, barely legible handwriting on a ripped off lined sheet.

Written after she read an article about a man whose boyfriend was refused access to him after his death because there was no will.

She refused to leave anyone in the dark like that.

Jonathan’s was the most emotional, surprisingly. But most of that emotion was palpable anger, the word “nothing” pressed so hard into the yellow paper next to Lonnies name it had almost ripped the page.

Even if it was the last thing he did, Jon would keep Lonnie away from them.

Steves was written begrudgingly, more out of a need to prevent his parents from tossing it all. They weren’t around to know about Robin or the kids, wouldn’t know he’d promised Lucas the car or Max his records.

They weren’t evil people, they just didn’t know. This way they would.

They hadn’t spoken about it in advance, hadn’t co-ordinated it or hidden them together like a morbid friendship pact. They had all just at some point come to the realisation that, given their current lives, it may one day be necessary.

Eddie had not had that thought.

Eddie Munson had many thoughts.

He had thoughts on the disease of pop music sweeping the last worthwhile radio station, he had thoughts on the price increases in his favourite gaming store in Indy, he had thoughts on selling enough stock to buy a new trailer gas canister.

What he very rarely had thoughts on was death.

It took a lot for him to say that these days, considering where he’d been not too many years ago. But these days the only thoughts on death he had were more abstract and fleeting, nothing more than the average schmuck.

And even if the thought would have crossed his mind, he would have shrugged it off with a ‘Wayne knows what to do.’

He had no other family and, as far as Eddie was concerned, nothing particularly valuable to single out to anyone. He may need one of the guys to burn the shoebox hidden under his bed, but that could be a more verbal agreement between bros.

So Eddie didn’t have a will.

Didn’t have a plan, didn’t have the worry.

And it’s not until he’s lying on his back, being cradled by a child that frankly should not have to see the insides of Eddies stomach, that he remembers that.

It rushes to him in a panic, the thoughts feeling slow and syrupy but in reality only taking a split second.

He needed to write a will.

He needed Wayne to know that Eddie /wanted/ him to have everything, not just given it by family rights.

He needed to write Dustin in, and Corroded Coffin, maybe even some random shit for all the other nerds.

A donation to Hawkins Church to really confuse them, not that Eddie would be leaving any money behind. Maybe they could have his guitar.

When he got back he would write it up on the finest non-scrunched up paper he could find.

When he got back he would take care of it all.

But that was a job for later Eddie, right now he really needed to sleep.

He could see Dustin crying above him but that was okay, he’d take care of it when he woke up.

When he wakes up he’ll take care of it all.

When he wakes up he’ll write his will.

When he wakes up.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #fic #mini fic #writing #angst #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #stobin #steddie #(its not there but its always on my mind okay)#my writing

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keeryhours · 1 month ago

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such small hands - chapter one

Masterlist Series Masterlist Tag Lists

Eddie Munson x female!Henderson!reader

Summary:

In a whirlwind week, you and Eddie fall in love without anyone noticing. Things are given, things are taken away.

Warnings:

Smut (18+), unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), fingering, violence, death, canon s4 spoilers, pregnancy, past reader x billy, talk of billy’s death

Word Count: 13.3k

A/N:

I just got started writing this one and went crazy. This first chapter has a lot of elements/dialogue from the show, future chapters won’t be like that. I hope you enjoy ❤️

You had never paid much mind to Eddie Munson before your senior year.

You knew of him, of course. Hawkins High Freak, drug dealer, nerd, yeah yeah. You probably should have seen it coming when your little brother Dustin came to Hawkins High for his freshman year and almost immediately was adopted by Eddie’s group of nerds.

That’s what threw Eddie into your life originally. Your brother was obsessed with him, idolized him, just like he did with Steve. It made sense to you. Your dad wasn’t around - it was just you, Dustin, and your mom. He needed a male role model in his life, and he had found two.

You had nothing in common with Eddie. You were cheerleading captain, dating - dated - Billy Hargrove for almost two years. You didn’t run in the same circles as Eddie Munson.

When Eddie was accused of murder, everything went to shit.

He got sucked into your world of the Upside Down. You were suddenly spending a lot of time with the guy. And - he wasn’t so bad. At all.

The gang had left you to keep Eddie company at Reefer Rick’s while they ran for supplies. The poor guy had been here alone and terrified, hiding from the cops. Nothing to eat or drink. He was covered in a black grime. You felt bad for him. He was shaken up, but still Eddie.

“So,” he said, after you’d been sitting in silence. “You’re Henderson’s sister?”

“That would be me,” you nodded.

“I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Your eyebrows raised. “Yeah? I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Eddie huffed a short laugh. “Henderson likes to talk.”

You chuckled. “He idolizes you.”

“Me?” Eddie seemed a little surprised. “I know he’s crazy about Harrington, but-“

“Literally never shuts up about both of you.”

Eddie laughed. “Well, apparently you’re the coolest big sister ever. So.”

Your cheeks heated in a blush. You knew Dustin loved you - you loved him back even more - but to hear he’d been talking about you like that? It made you feel warm inside. Sitting there with what you had in common - being totally adored by the coolest kid.

“You didn’t have to stay,” Eddie said. He was smiling more than you’d seen him do since yesterday. “I would have been alright.”

“I wanted to stay,” you said. “Seemed like you needed somebody.”

Eddie looked at you like he could see through to your very soul - and he smiled. He knew, in that moment, that he wanted to see you every possible second of his life.

You stayed with him as often as you could after that. You were drawn to him, and he seemed like he liked the company. He was so easy to talk to, made you laugh, made your heart beat harder in your chest. If only you both knew that you felt the same.

Tuesday, Eddie was almost caught and murdered by Jason Carver while you were in the Creel House with the rest of the gang. You decide then that Eddie is probably best not left alone.

Wednesday, the police officially released Eddie’s name as the prime suspect in Chrissy’s death. It made you sick - Eddie. Sweet Eddie, who would never hurt anyone.

Your Eddie.

When you saw him there at Skull Rock, looking even more like he’d been through absolute hell, it was like your heart reached for him through your chest.

He hopped down from the rock and Dustin sighed in relief. “Jesus, we thought you were a goner.” He pulled Eddie into a hug, who awkwardly patted him on the back as he hugged him back.

“Yeah, me too, man. Me too.” He smiled, like he was relieved not to be alone. His eyes met yours over Dustin’s shoulder. As Dustin pulled away, you stepped into his spot, and Eddie wrapped his arms around you, slowly, pulling you in close. He looked at you like you were the first drink of water he’d had in days.

How no one else ever noticed the two of you falling in love, you had no idea.

But it was a sacred thing between you. Something you held onto. You were going to tell people, eventually. It just felt nice to have something for the two of you for a while.

You wished you had told people. You wished you had shouted it from the rooftops.

The gang realized that Dustin’s broken compass wasn’t actually broken - it had been disrupted by an electromagnetic field. A gate. As plans were made to once again take on the Upside Down, Dustin turned to Eddie, who had been quiet the entire time.

“What say you, Eddie the Banished?”

It was the question, posed from your baby brother. Eddie rubbed the back of his neck. “I’d say you’re asking me to walk into Mordor,” he said. “Which, if I’m totally straight with you, I think is a really bad idea. But, uh, the Shire…the Shire is burning.”

Dustin began jumping up and down.

“So Mordor it is.”

You wanted to beg Eddie. You wanted to plead with him to run and never look back. You knew the second he agreed to help you that his life was on the line, and you weren’t sure it was something you were willing to risk.

“What is Mordor?” Steve muttered to himself.

As the rest of the group began walking off, Eddie trailed behind, next to you. He grabbed your hand in his, squeezing it softly, smiling at you.

And you fell, and fell, and fell.

Dustin’s compass took you to Lover’s Lake in search of a gate that night. Robin, Steve, and Nancy climbed onto the little boat, followed by Eddie. He held his hand out for you with a gentle smile and you took it, letting him help you climb on.

Dustin tried to climb on next. “Hey, hey, hey, you trying to sink us?” Eddie asked. “This thing holds three people tops, okay? And there’s five of us in here somehow already.”

“It’s better this way,” Nancy said. “You guys stay with Max.”

“You’re safer here,” you told your brother. “Keep an eye out for trouble.”

“You keep an eye out for trouble!” Dustin said.

You just gave him a look.

“It’s my goddamn theory!”

“You heard your sister,” Robin said.

“Who put her in charge?” Dustin pointed at you.

“I did.”

“Compass,” you said, holding a hand out to your brother. He reluctantly took it from his pocket and placed it in your hand. Steve pushed off the bank and you paddled away, leaving Dustin, Max, and Lucas on the shore. Eddie kept a hand on your back, worried you’d lose your balance. No one else noticed the shy smiles you sent each other.

The compass started going crazy in the center of the lake. Dustin called over the walkie to check in and Robin told him. Everyone looked at each other. Then, Steve started taking his shoes and socks off.

“Steve, what are you doing?” Nancy asked.

“Somebody’s gotta go down and check this out,” Steve said. “Unless one of you four can top being a Hawkins High swim co-captain and a certified lifeguard for three years, then…it’s gotta be me. No complaints, alright?”

“Hey, I’m not complaining,” Eddie said. “I do not wanna go down there.”

Eddie wrapped a flashlight in a bag for Steve as he slipped his shirt off. You and Robin exchanged a look as you caught Nancy staring.

“Hey,” Eddie said, handing the flashlight to Steve and putting a cigarette in his own mouth. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Steve said, accepting the flashlight.

Eddie went to light his cigarette. “Gross,” Robin said, swatting it out of his mouth and into the water.

The boat shook as Steve jumped off. You watched from the surface as he dove, unable to see much of anything. You were nervous for your best friend. But Eddie was there, and he was holding your hand again, and somehow everything felt alright.

You all jumped when Steve came bursting back out of the water, gasping. “I found it.”

“You found it?”

“I found it. Yeah, I found it.” He was panting, trying to catch his breath.

“Dustin, you are a goddamn Einstein,” Robin said into the walkie.

Steve was leaning on the side of the boat, trying to catch his bearings and explain what he’d seen, when something yanked him downwards. Everyone began yelling as it happened again - and pulled him under the water. He didn’t come back up this time. As everyone was panicking, Nancy started removing some of her clothes.

“You’re not going in there, are you?” Eddie asked, grabbing onto her arm.

“Just-just wait here,” she said - then she dove in after Steve.

“Goddamn it!” Eddie yelled.

Robin dove in next. When you started taking your shoes off, Eddie grabbed your arm tightly. “S-she said wait.”

“I heard her,” you said. “But my friends are in there. I can’t just sit here and wait to see if they survive. I have to help.”

“Are you serious?” Eddie nearly squeaked. “Please don’t. Seriously, please don’t.”

“Eddie, I have to.”

You placed your hands on either side of his face. His cheeks were scratchy against your palm from being unable to shave. You pulled him in and kissed his lips firmly. You could have stayed there all day with your lips attached to his, but you pulled back after a few seconds. Eddie looked at you, amazed. He was still frozen when you turned and dove into the water.

The gate in the lake brought you straight to the Upside Down - where Steve was being held down and attacked by demobats. You felt a hand on your back, and turned - Eddie had followed you.

You each grabbed an oar and began swatting at the demobats, hitting them away from Steve so he could get up. You watched out for each other, quickly coming to the rescue if someone was being attacked. You pulled at the tail of one attached to Nancy’s back and then slammed it into the ground.

Steve got up, slamming the last one into the ground again and again until he ripped it in half.

“Steve, are you okay?” you asked, walking quickly up to your best friend. He had horrible bruises on his neck and blood dripping from his mouth - he didn’t look okay. You looked him over, trying to see if he had any serious injuries.

“Jesus H. Christ!” Eddie yelled, throwing his oar to the ground.

“Well, they took about a pound of flesh,” Steve said as you and Nancy examined his body. “But other than that, yeah, never better.”

As more bats came, fear struck your group of friends. You huddled together, Eddie’s arms around you protectively.

“The woods. Come on,” Nancy said.

The five of you took off into the woods, Eddie never letting go of your hand.

Again, how did no one ever notice? You supposed it was a crazy week for everyone. You couldn’t blame them. But hey, it was right there.

Your love for Eddie was so close you could reach out and touch it.

You hid under a rock together, Eddie’s arms wrapped tight around you. The demobats were loud as they flew overhead.

“That was close,” Robin said once the bats had dissipated and you all began getting up. Steve stumbled, crashing into the rock of the cave.

“Jesus, Stevie,” you said, moving towards him.

“I’m fine. I’m fine,” Steve said, trying to wave both you and a concerned Nancy off.

“No, no, no, you’re losing blood,” Nancy said. “Come here.”

Steve leaned against the wall and uncovered the wound on his abdomen. It was bad - deep, still bleeding. You ripped off the bottom of your shirt, turning it into a crop as you wrapped the makeshift bandage around Steve’s waist. Eddie’s eyes lingered on your form, the newly exposed skin of your back and stomach.

“Are you okay?” he asked you quietly as you moved away from Steve and Nancy.

“I don’t know,” you admitted honestly. “I’m…this is a lot.”

“I thought you’ve been through this before,” Eddie teased lightly, tilting your chin up so you were looking up at him.

“I have,” you blushed. “Multiple times. It just…it never gets less surreal.” You bit your lip as your gaze dropped, looking back over at Steve, Nancy, and Robin. “I don’t want any of my friends to get hurt. I don’t want my brother to get hurt.” Your eyes met Eddie’s once again, your hand resting on his chest. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m not gonna get hurt,” Eddie said, placing his larger hand over yours. “I’m gonna do everything in my power to make sure all of us get out of here in one piece.” He smirked. “How else am I gonna get to kiss you again?”

You blushed deeper. Your eyes darted around, finding your friends still busy with one another and not paying you any mind. You leaned up on your tiptoes and kissed Eddie’s soft lips.

He kissed you back, hand coming to rest in your hair. Your hearts beat hard against each other’s chests like they were dying to reach each other. Like you wanted to get closer to him, as close as two people can possibly be.

He pulled away, eyes lingering on the other three. When he saw them still not looking, he kissed you again. “I…”

You waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. “What?”

“I just-“

“Alright,” Robin said. You and Eddie were pulled into a conversation that had been going on for a while without you. “So, theoretically, we could go to the police station and steal guns and grenades and whatever we need to blow up those bat things that are guarding the gate.”

“I highly doubt the Hawkins PD has grenades, Robin,” Steve said. “But guns, yeah, sure.”

“Well, we don’t have to go all the way downtown for guns,” Nancy said. “I have guns in my bedroom.”

“You, Nancy Wheeler, have guns, plural, in your bedroom?” Eddie asked.

“She’s full of surprises,” you beamed at him.

Eddie took off his denim vest and handed it to Steve. “For your modesty, dude.”

Suddenly, the ground started shaking. Steve grabbed Nancy and Robin and took shelter under the cave as you fell to the ground with Eddie. His arms wrapped around you tightly, shielding your body with his own.

When the rumbling stopped, you were left on the ground with Eddie in a compromising looking position - his hand on your waist, with your body pulled back against his own. No one questioned it, however.

You could hear a creature screaming in the distance. You all just watched and listened, Eddie still holding you with shaking arms.

“Yeah, so guns seem like a pretty good idea to me,” Eddie said.

“Yeah, me too,” Robin quickly agreed.

“So what are we waiting for?”

Steve flicked on his flashlight and led the way, everyone else falling into step behind him. You and Eddie led up the rear, his eyes grazing the exposed skin of your lower back as you walked.

As you walked, you fell into step with Nancy and Robin, having what felt like the first normal conversation in days.

Steve approached Eddie. And, surprisingly - Eddie found that he liked Steve. “That was a real Ozzy move you pulled back there.”

“Ozzy?” Steve asked.

“When you took a bite out of that bat,” Eddie said. “Ozzy Osbourne? Black Sabbath? He bit a bat’s head off onstage.”

“I don’t-“

“You know, doesn’t matter,” Eddie said. “It’s very metal, what you did. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Thanks.”

“Henderson told me you were a badass. Insisted on the matter, in fact.”

“Dustin said that?” Steve asked, looking up at Eddie.

“Oh yeah. Shit. Kid worships you, dude. Like, you have no idea. It’s kinda annoying, to be honest.” Steve laughed. “I don’t even know why I care what that little shrimp thinks, but, uh, guess I got a little jealous, Steve. I guess I couldn’t accept the fact that Steve Harrington was actually a good dude. Rich parents, popular, chicks love him. Not a douche? No way, man. No way. That, like, flies in the face of all the laws in the universe and my own personal Munson doctrine.” Steve didn’t say anything to Eddie’s nervous rambling. “Still super jealous as hell, by the way.”

Steve laughed at that. “I don’t know, man. I think his favorite person in the world is his sister.”

At the mention of you, Eddie’s neck heated. He looked down at his feet as he walked. “How long have you guys been friends?”

Steve said your name like a question. “Oh, we’ve been friends for years. She’s my best friend in the world. We met through basketball and cheerleading, then after my…fall from popularity, she just kept being my best friend. She means the world to me.”

Eddie felt that jealousy creeping in again. He wanted to be blunt with it, ask if there had ever been anything between you, but didn’t want to give himself away so obviously. But, he had to know. “Did you guys ever…?”

“What?” Steve asked. “Date? Hook up?”

Eddie was surprised at how sick he felt at the idea of you hooking up with Steve, or any other guy. “Either.”

Steve laughed. “No, man, Just friends.”

He let out a sigh of relief he hoped Steve didn’t catch. But when he looked up at the other boy, he was giving him a knowing look.

“You like her.”

“It’s not- no, I mean I don’t- it’s not that-“

“Oh,” Steve said, a grin growing across his lips. “You love her.”

Eddie was sure his face was on fire. “No.”

“It’s okay,” Steve said, nudging Eddie’s shoulder. “I won’t tell. Your secret is safe with me.”

It’s not that Eddie didn’t want anyone knowing how he felt about you. He wanted everybody to know. It was just that it was still so new, still so precious and fragile in his clumsy hands. He always fucked everything up. He couldn’t afford to fuck this up.

There was a noise from some kind of creature in the woods, and Eddie flinched. “Outside of D&D, I am no hero,” he admitted sadly. “I see danger and I just turn heel and run. Or at least that’s what I’ve learned about myself this week.”

“Give yourself a break, man,” Steve said, softly slapping Eddie’s chest.

“See?” Eddie pointed ahead at the girls. “The only reason I came in here was ‘cause those ladies came in straight after you. Now, I was too ashamed to be the one who stayed behind.” His eyes lingered on you. And I couldn’t let her go alone. “But those girls didn’t waste a second. They just dove right in.”

Nancy opened the door to the Upside Down version of the Wheeler home. You followed her upstairs to her bedroom, not noticing Steve lingering behind.

Nancy searched through her things - finding no guns. She was confused at first - until she found her stack of notecards. The ones from her test when she had just started dating Steve. Three years ago.

She found more and more things that didn’t add up - items that had been given away or donated, wallpaper that had been long since changed. She picked up her diary and flipped through until the last date - her eyes went wide.

“Nancy, you’re freaking me out,” you said.

“I think the reason my guns aren’t here,” she said, “is because they don’t exist yet.”

“They don’t…exist?” Eddie asked.

“This diary should be full of entries. It’s not. The last entry is November 6, 1983. The day Will went missing. The day the gate opened. We’re in the past.”

You were brought out of your thoughts by the sound of Steve yelling downstairs. “Dustin? Dustin? Hello?”

You went sprinting down the stairs first at the mention of your brother’s name. Was he here? Was he in trouble? The four of you found Steve waving his flashlight around and yelling to the walls.

“Are you sure he doesn’t have rabies?” Robin muttered.

“Steve, what are you doing?” you asked.

“Hello,” Steve whispered, nearly blinding all of you with his flashlight. “He’s here. Henderson. That little

shit, he’s here. He’s like…he’s in the walls or something. Just listen. Dustin?”

You looked at Steve like he was crazy, but you stayed quiet, listening intently. Stranger things had happened. When there was no noise, Steve started yelling again.

“Dustin! Dustin! Dustin! Dustin! Can you hear me?”

Finally, you heard the faintest echo of your brother’s voice.

You all walked around the room, calling Dustin’s name, trying to find or communicate with him.

“Alright, either this kid can’t hear us or he’s being a total douchebag,” Steve said.

“Will found a way,” Nancy said, as if an idea had just come to her.

“What?”

“Will found a way, to speak to Joyce through the lights.” Nancy jumped into action, trying to flip on lamps and light fixtures. None worked.

“Guys…” Steve said. “Are you seeing this?”

The chandelier was sparkling with tiny glittering lights. You reached your hand out and touched them. The others joined you, all raising a hand to touch the lights.

“Does anyone know morse code?” Nancy asked.

“Does SOS count?” Eddie asked.

After Eddie was able to get a message through to the kids, you all huddled together while Dustin, Lucas, and Erica put together Holly’s Lite-Brite. They turned it on and you waved your hand through the area, making the toy light up. Steve, Nancy, Robin and Eddie watched. You could hear the kids cheering when it worked.

“We’re going to unplug it,” Dustin yelled. A second passed, then - “Try it now!”

You traced your hand through the lights again, drawing out the word Hi with your finger.

“That worked!” Came Dustin’s voice.

The others cheered and you smiled in triumph. Eddie’s hand brushed against your lower back.

“Um…” you thought. Then you wrote out “S…T…U…C…K.”

“You can’t get back through Watergate?” Dustin called.

“G…U…A…R…D…E…D,” you wrote out this time.

Dustin called back that they had a plan - Watergate isn’t the only gate. They think there’s a gate at every murder site.

“Does anyone understand what he’s talking about?” Nancy asked.

Everyone shook their heads. You drew out a “?”

“Seriously?” Dustin yelled. “How many times do I have to be right on the money before you trust me?”

“Jesus Christ,” Steve shook his head. “This kid’s gotta get his ego in check.”

“It’s his tone. Right?” Eddie said. You covered your mouth, stifling your giggle.

“Okay, so…how far is your trailer?” Nancy asked Eddie.

“Seven miles,” he answered.

“Nancy?” Robin offered. “I know your house is like, creepily frozen in time and shit, but haven’t you always had bikes?”

The five of you pedaled to Forest Hills - or at least, the upside down version of the trailer park. Eddie led the way to his house. “It’s right here,” he said, pulling off the road and dropping the bikes.

You entered the trailer and all looked up - sure enough, there was a gate on the ceiling. “This is where Chrissy died,” Eddie said.

“I think there’s something up there,” Robin said.

A broom handle burst through the gateway, startling all of you. The handle was waved around until the gate was clear. Steve stepped forward carefully, looking up.

“No way,” Steve whispered in awe.

Dustin, Lucas, Max, and Erica stood there, upside down through the gate, smiling up (or down?) at you. Dustin laughed. “Hi there.”

“Holy shit, this is trippy,” Robin said.

After some discussion on the best way to get you out of there, Dustin began knotting sheets together while Lucas and Max got Eddie’s mattress and dragged it to the living room floor.

“Those stains are, uh…” His eyes darted to you, then Robin and Nancy. “I dunno what those stains are.”

“Mmhmm,” Robin hummed.

Dustin and Erica came over with the knotted together sheets. He tossed them up and they fell through the other side, making a floating rope. Robin pulled on it and it didn’t budge.

“Guess I’m the guinea pig,” Robin said, then climbed up first.

After she was safely on the other side, the four of you looked at one another. “You go,” Eddie said quietly to you, nudging you towards the rope of sheets.

You didn’t argue. He helped you a little and then you channeled all your cheer muscles to help you climb up and through the gate. Once you passed through it was like your stomach flipped along with the rest of your body as you fell down on your back onto Eddie’s mattress.

Eddie came next - “That…was fun!” - then Nancy, then finally Steve. As Nancy was coming through, something happened - Vecna got to her, showing her some sort of vision.

She recounted it with a shaking voice as you all sat around Max’s trailer. A horrible prophecy of death and destruction - everything and everyone gone.

“Okay, but…he’s just trying to scare you, Nance,” Steve said. “Right? I mean…I mean, it’s not real.”

“There was something else,” Nancy said. He showed her gates, more gates all over Hawkins. Spreading, growing. Destroying.

You covered your mouth with your hand. You didn’t even notice you were shaking. But Eddie did, reaching over and placing a hand on your knee to calm you. It worked instantly.

“Four chimes,” Max spoke up. Everyone looked at her. “Vecna’s clock. It always chimes four times. Four exactly.”

You looked down, then back up at Max. “I heard them too.”

Everyone’s attention snapped to you.

“What?” Steve, Eddie, Robin, and Dustin all asked at the same time.

“I just…” You messed with a string on the couch. “I didn’t think it was…I didn’t know…I didn’t think anything of it.”

Steve looked like he was ready to fight someone. Eddie looked like you had told him his favorite dog just died. And Dustin looked horrified. Eddie grasped your hands in his, where no one noticed or saw - he held them tightly, as if he was trying to tell you everything through touch alone.

“He’s been telling us his plan this whole time,” Max said.

“Four kills,” Lucas added. “Four gates. End of the world.”

“If that’s true,” Dustin said. “He’s only one kill away.”

“Oh Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ,” Eddie said, burying his face in his dirty hands.

“Try ‘em again,” Steve told Max, who had been trying to get ahold of the Byers’ all day. But again - busy. The group discussed how something connected had to be happening in Lenora, too.

“Whatever’s happening in Lenora is connected to all of this, I’m sure of it,” Nancy said. “But Vecna can’t hurt them. Not if he’s dead.” She turned around. “We have to go back in there. Back to the Upside Down.”

“Whoa, no, no, no. What?” Steve asked.

“Nope,” Eddie said simply, shaking his head dramatically. “Nope.”

“Let’s think this through,” Steve said.

“What is there to think through?” Nancy asked.

“We barely made it out of there in one piece.”

“Yeah, because we weren’t prepared. But this time, we will be. We’ll get weapons and protection. We’ll go through the gate, we’ll find his lair, and we’ll kill him.”

“Or he’ll kill us!” Steve said. He gestured towards you. “The only reason you survived is because he wanted you to. He’s not scared of us.”

“And for good reason,” Robin said, standing up. She told the group her theory about Vecna - he’s just a guy with powers like Eleven. So why fight fair? You all knew El’s strengths and weaknesses.

“Weaknesses?” Erica asked.

“When El remote-travels,” Dustin said, “she goes into this sort of trance-like state. I bet the same is true of Vecna.”

“That would explain what he was doing in that attic,” Lucas said.

“Exactly,” Dustin pointed at his friend. “When he attacks his next victim, I’ll bet you he’s back in that attic, physical body defenseless.”

“Defenseless? What about the army of bats?” Steve asked, gesturing to the dark red marks on his neck.

“True. We’ll have to find a way past them. Distract them somehow.”

“And, uh, how do we do that, exactly?” Eddie asked.

“No idea. But once they’re gone, he doesn’t stand a chance. It’ll be like slaying sleeping Dracula in his coffin.”

“That’s nice in theory, but we don’t know Vecna’s pattern,” Robin said. “We don’t know when he’s going to attack next, we don’t know who he’s going to attack next-“

“Yeah, we do,” Max said quietly. “I can still feel him. I’m still marked. Cursed. I ditch Kate Bush, I draw his focus back to me.”

“Max,” Lucas muttered. “You can’t. He’ll kill you.”

“I survived before. I can survive again.”

“Check this out. The War Zone,” Eddie said, slapping the phone book down on the kitchen table. “I’ve been there once. It’s huge. They got everything you need for, uh…well, killing things, basically.”

“Is that a grenade?” Robin asked. “I mean, how is any of this legal?”

“Well, lucky for us it is, so…” Eddie smiled sarcastically. “This…This place is just far enough outside of Hawkins. As long as we steer clear of main roads, we oughta be able to avoid cops and, uh, angry hicks.”

You rubbed Eddie’s back as he spoke - you could tell he was nervous. You could feel him physically relaxing under your touch.

“If we’re trying to avoid angry hicks, maybe we shouldn’t go to some store called The War Zone,” Erica suggested.

“Normally, I’d agree, but we need the weapons,” Nancy said. “So I think it’s worth the risk.”

“Me too,” Lucas agreed.

You wanted to say something - because the first thing you could think of was keeping your little brother - and Eddie - safe from harm. But you were clearly outnumbered here, and you knew they were right. You needed the firepower.

“But is it worth the time?” Dustin asked. “It’ll take all day to bike there and back.”

“Who said anything about bikes?” Eddie asked.

“You got some car we don’t know about?” Steve asked.

“It’s not exactly a car, Steve,” Eddie smiled, “and it’s not exactly mine, but, uh…it’ll do.”

Eddie crept through the trailer park with Max’s Michael Myers mask on his head, not at all suspiciously followed by a group of people.

Miraculously you weren’t noticed as you made your way through. Eddie reached an RV and opened the back window, climbing and sliding himself through it. Steve climbed through the window after him, then you, then Nancy and the rest.

Eddie hopped into the front seat and began hot wiring the car.

You had never been into bad boys before, but it was certainly doing something for you now. You watched his expert movements over his shoulder, Steve coming to peak over the other.

“Where’d you learn how to do this?” you asked him gently.

His gaze flashed to your eyes for only a moment before remembering Steve’s presence. “Well, when the other dads were teaching their kids how to fish or play ball, my old man was teaching me how to hot-wire. Now, I swore to myself I wouldn’t wind up like he did, but now I’m wanted for murder, and soon, grand theft auto. So, uh, I’m really living up to that Munson name.”

“Eddie, I’m not sure I love the idea of you driving,” Robin said, peeking from behind you and Steve.

“Oh, I’m just starting this sucker,” he said. “Harrington’s got her. Don’t ya, big boy?”

One more movement and the RV’s engine roared to life, immediately calling the attention of the couple sitting outside who began banging on the windows. Eddie jumped up and Steve jumped into the driver’s seat. “Everybody, hang on to something!”

Eddie fell into one of the seats and Steve started driving, absolutely whipping it out of the trailer park, knocking you over and into Eddie’s lap. His arm wrapped around you, holding you to him in the name of safety, but both of you knew it was more than that.

The bouncing you were doing on Eddie’s lap from the RV’s movements were torturous. He almost groaned multiple times, his fingers digging tightly into your thighs, your exposed skin where you’d cropped that damn shirt. You knew what it was doing to him - you could feel the proof of it right under your ass - but you loved it. You could tell he was fighting for his life.

Once the RV was calmly on the road, you could take an actual seat. Eddie cleared his throat as you stood, nonchalantly covering his lap with a throw pillow. You took the seat next to him, your thighs brushing together sending electricity through both of your bodies.

“So,” Eddie said quietly. He only wanted to talk to you, didn’t want to invite anyone else into your conversation. He felt like he’d gotten so little of your time as it was. “You heard the…?”

“Yeah,” you said, looking away. “But I don’t think it’s- I don’t know. I think he- he’s just fucking with me.”

Eddie looked at you with concern. “What does he show you?”

You swallowed, looking up at the roof of the RV, trying to will the tears back into your eyes before they fell. “Billy.”

Eddie’s jaw clenched. Billy. He’d avoided the subject purposefully, and now here it was. “Oh.”

Eddie knew Billy when he was alive. Of course he did. And he hated the guy. Not only because he was an asshole, although that was the biggest reason. But he also had you. You were Hawkins High’s It Couple. Everyone knew you and Billy were together, and no one dared touch Billy’s girl.

He never knew what someone like you saw in Billy, but he understood that Billy was different with you. It was obvious to anyone with eyes. When you were around, people weren’t scared of him. It was possible to have a decent interaction without getting threatened. If you weren’t around, he was his usual self. People quickly realized to look for you first when it came to Billy.

And Billy always, always put you first.

Eddie had felt bad for you when Billy died. He remembered the day he’d heard it on the news - the Star Court Mall Fire. He couldn’t believe it - Billy Hargrove was dead? Then he thought about you.

He didn’t have to imagine how you were doing. Rumors spread fast - you were a mess. That poor girl, the ladies would say around town. When he finally saw you again at school, it was obvious they were true. You looked like hell. After Jason’s pep rally speech at the beginning of the basketball season, you’d run off the court in your cheer uniform in tears as the insensitive asshole listed off the students Hawkins had lost. Everyone knew you could barely hold it together at the mention of Billy’s name.

You had come so far this year. You had regular meetings with the school counselor, you had told them. But he knew it was all you. That was the thing about you, something he loved - you didn’t let yourself get held down for long.

“What does he say?” Eddie asked. Gently, so you knew you didn’t have to answer if you didn’t want to.

“That…that I-“ your voice cracked, choking on your unshed tears. You whispered when you spoke again. “That I never loved him. That I’m…betraying him now. With…with you.”

Eddie’s heart twisted in his chest. He hated being any part of the pain you were going through. He knew Vecna used your insecurities against you - did you feel that way? Did you feel like you were betraying Billy by falling for him?

“You know those things aren’t true, right?” Eddie said. “You haven’t done anything wrong. You loved Billy. You still love Billy. That’s okay and nothing’s gonna change that.” He brushed your hair back out of your face. He quickly glanced around, seeing everyone else sucked into conversation, paying you no mind. “It’s okay…to move on. Billy wouldn’t want you to be miserable and alone forever. The way you were after he…that wasn’t any way to live. He would have hated seeing you like that. He would love how far you’ve come now.”

Tears had started to fall, but you were smiling as you wiped them away. “He would tell me to get laid.”

Eddie laughed unexpectedly. Max and Lucas looked over, but quickly returned to their conversation. “That sounds like Billy.”

Steve pulled the RV into the parking lot of The War Zone, and Eddie ducked down. Steve parked in the back, as far from the door as possible. “We’re gonna run inside and get supplies,” Steve said. “Eddie, you stay here.”

“Aye, captain,” Eddie saluted him.

“I’ll stay, too,” you said. “Keep him company.”

Steve nodded. “Alright. We won’t be long.”

You watched as everyone shuffled off the RV, closing the door behind Dustin. You watched through the window as they all walked inside - then you turned to Eddie, who was thinking the exact same thing as you.

His arms wrapped around your waist as yours went around his neck, your lips meeting in a hungry kiss. It was hard, feeling like you needed to sneak around. You just wanted to touch him all the time, kiss him all the time.

Eddie sat down on the couch, pulling you down to straddle his lap. His hands grabbed onto your waist as you kissed him, taking his breath away. “Baby,” he groaned.

“I missed you,” you said between kisses. “I know that makes no fucking sense because we’ve been together almost all the time, but it’s not the same. I want to touch you. I want to kiss you in front of everyone.”

“Why don’t you then?” Eddie asked, panting and out of breath as he pulled away from your lips.

You sighed. “I just…think it would be hard on Dustin,” you said, the same thing Eddie had heard a million times this week. “He sees you as like a brother. So I don’t think he’d be too excited by his brother and his sister-“

“Okay, stop, eww,” Eddie said, making you laugh. “You’re not my sister in any way, shape, or form, I’d like to make that clear.”

“You get what I mean though, right?” you asked through giggles. “Why I’m worried?”

“I understand why you’re worried,” Eddie agreed, eyes locked on your plush lips as he played with your hair. “But I also think you don’t have anything to worry about. I think he’d be fine with it. Even if it’s weird at first, he’ll get over it, y’know?”

You thought about it. You kissed Eddie on the tip of his nose. “When all this is over.”

“Yeah?” Eddie’s face lit up. “You wanna do it? Go public?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “I’m…I’m ready. You’re my boyfriend, and I want everyone to know.”

“Oh, I’m your boyfriend, am I?” Eddie teased with a waggle of his eyebrows.

You giggled. “You never officially asked, but…”

“Can I be your boyfriend?” he asked you seriously, taking your hands in his and kissing your knuckles. “Please?”

“Thought you’d never ask.” You smiled as you leaned in and kissed him again, tongue tracing along the seam of his lips. Eddie was still totally inexperienced- you were his first anything. So he was happy to let you take the lead, to teach him anything you wanted, everything you liked.

He parted his lips and began sliding his hands up your sides as your tongues met and he moaned into the kiss. He felt the skin exposed by your cropped tee, then even further, sliding his hands up your shirt for the first time. He’s almost sure you’re going to slap his hands away, but you don’t - you press into his hold, let out the most delicious moan against his lips, and roll your hips down against his now straining erection.

The door slammed open and you practically leaped off Eddie’s lap, falling onto the seat next to him.

“We’ve got to go,” Steve said, shooting you both a quick funny look before he jumped back into the driver’s seat and the rest of the group piled onto the RV.

“Your old friends are here,” Erica said.

“Shit,” Eddie hissed, ducking back down into the floor.

“Let’s go! Let’s go!”

“I’m going, I’m going! Sit down!” Steve yelled in a panic. He started the engine and drove out of the parking lot, having to pass right by Jason and his friends loading up their car.

An hour later, with the RV parked in a field, the group prepared your weapons.

Eddie hammered nails into a trash can lid to make a shield. You sawed off the end of a shotgun.

“Is this legal?” Max asked you.

“Actually, I think it’s a felony,” you said.

“Right.”

“But it guarantees one thing.” You knocked the end of the barrel to the ground. “I won’t miss.”

Dustin helped Eddie making shields. Eddie proudly held up his finished spiked shield, swinging it around.

“How’s she feeling?” Dustin asked.

“Light. But durable,” Eddie said. “Deadly. But reliable.” Dustin chuckled, and Eddie began speaking dramatically. “Hear me now. There will be no more retreating…from Eddie the Banished.”

“Hey, you’re really ready for bat-tle.” Eddie turned around and gave Dustin an unamused look. Dustin laughed anyway. “You get it? Bat-tle.” His face fell. “B-A-T.” Eddie just kept staring at him. “No?” he groaned. “I thought I had a good one.”

Eddie surprise tackled Dustin right in his middle, knocking the air out of him and pushing him forward. “What are you doing?” Dustin asked, laughing. They play wrestled, Eddie pushing Dustin off to the side. “You son of a bitch!” Dustin came running at full speed into Eddie’s middle this time. Eddie pulled at Dustin’s boxer shorts - “No wedgies! No wedgies!”

“Never change, Dustin Henderson,” Eddie said, hands on either of Dustin’s shoulders. He brushed some of his long curls from his own mouth. “Promise me?”

Dustin was takin aback, looking up at his friend, his role model. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Good. Good.”

You watched Eddie and your brother with a smile on your face. Eddie’s words had been true and you knew it. Dustin would take the news well. He would probably like you and Eddie together, as long as there was no messy breakup. But it was hard to imagine Eddie ever breaking your heart. You felt it would be safe in his hands. You’d already given it to him so completely.

Your chest ached with how much you felt for Eddie. And Dustin was the most important person in your life. The fact that he and Dustin loved each other was already a major bonus. Despite the circumstances that brought you together, you had lucked out with Eddie.

Who knew you could fall so unbearably in love in less than a week?

After preparing your weapons for battle - you all needed a rest.

You ended up back at the Wheelers, with the RV parked off the road, hidden in some trees. The gang was going inside to sleep as much as they could, while Eddie remained in the RV.

“I’m fine,” he’d said. “You guys go get some sleep. I’ll be plenty comfortable out here.”

“I’ll stay with you,” you said quickly. “I just…I don’t want you sleeping out here alone.”

Steve gave a look to the both of you, but no one else was paying much attention, too ready to lay down and finally close their eyes. The gang left you, Steve closing the RV door hard behind him.

Properly left alone with Eddie for the first time, neither of you knew what to do right away. This was the first time you’d be alone together for hours. The possibilities stretched out before you, and it felt overwhelming.

It’s not like you’d never had sex before. You’d had a lot of sex. Billy had been your first and only, though. That was hard to get past.

You locked the RV door, then turned back to Eddie, who was sitting on the end of the pullout bed, watching your every move. Slowly, you took a step towards him, lifting your dirty, ripped shirt over your head and tossing it to the floor. Eddie’s eyes widened slightly, his gaze never leaving you for a second.

“Hi,” he whispered as you slowly approached him.

“Hi,” you whispered back with a giggle. He reached for you and you let him pull you to him, holding your body close and pressing his lips into yours. You kissed slowly this time, savoring one another. You had time to enjoy this.

His calloused hands slid all over your bare back, reaching for your bra strap. He fumbled with it for a good minute, cursing under his breath, before he finally got it undone, leaning back to watch as the material fell away from your chest and revealed your tits.

“Oh,” Eddie groaned, reaching for them immediately. You almost laughed at the awe with which he looked at your naked body, but it was really nice. It was endearing. It made you feel beautiful.

Everyone had looked at you with nothing but pity since Billy died.

You had to push painful thoughts of Billy out of your head as Eddie kissed along your neck, sucking gently on the skin, not exactly intending to leave marks but not caring if he did.

You pushed his jacket off his shoulders, then lifted his Hellfire shirt up until it was on the floor with yours. Eddie seemed self conscious with his shirt off, but you loved it. You traced your fingers over his tattoos, making him shudder. Goosebumps appeared across his flesh.

“Do you like that?” you asked him quietly.

“Y-yeah,” he said. “Feels nice. Tickles a little.”

You giggled. running your fingers up his biceps with a featherlight touch. Eddie’s eyes fell closed. He looked relaxed for the first time all week.

“You’re really beautiful,” Eddie mumbled.

You grinned. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not,” he said quickly, his eyes flying open. “I- are you serious? You’re the most beautiful girl in Hawkins. Everyone knows that.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Everyone knows that?”

“Seriously, ask anyone,” Eddie shrugged. “Well, they might not tell you to your face, but…”

You had no idea your classmates felt that way about you. “Really?”

“Well, yeah,” he said. “I mean, you were with Billy. No one could even look at you. Then you were grieving, but people still talked, y’know? And now you’re-“ Eddie huffed out a disbelieving laugh. “Now you’re in my lap.”

You smiled down at Eddie, kissing him again. Eddie kissed back happily, his hands sliding down to squeeze at your ass. You rolled your hips down against him, and he groaned.

“Gonna drive me crazy, princess,” he said, his voice lower than you’d ever heard it. It stirred something deep in your belly, a heat that spread. You could feel him hardening through his jeans - hell, he was already pretty fucking hard.

You pressed your chest into Eddie’s as you kissed him, your bare skin pressed together in a way that felt so intimate it had your head spinning. The feeling of your hard nipples against him, the way they’d graze against his skin as you moved, had Eddie twitching in his pants.

Eddie laid back on the bed, pulling you down over him. You tangled your hands in his curls as you kissed him and his hands slid all over your body, feeling every inch he could get his hands on.

You started kissing lower, kissing down his jaw, down his neck, to his chest and lower. Eddie sat up on his elbows. “W-what are you doing?”

You shrugged. “Just taking my time.” You kissed down his stomach, making his muscles clench. When you reached his jeans, you undid his handcuff belt then started working on his button and zipper.

Eddie watched with hitched breath as you undid his pants, finally pulling them down and leaving him in his tented boxers. He was unbelievably hard, had never wanted anything or anyone so bad in his entire life, he was sure of it. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He was finally losing his virginity, and to you.

He reached for your jeans next, needing to see more of you. He undid them and pulled them down your legs, slowly, slowly. His eyes drank in and savored every inch of skin uncovered. You were wearing the cutest little black panties with a bow.

“You look so good,” Eddie groaned, practically nuzzling his face against your clothed core, breathing in your scent. “Smell so good. Bet you taste good, too.”

You whimpered. You hadn’t even had an orgasm since Billy. You never even tried by yourself, and you hadn’t been with anyone else since.

“Can I…try?” Eddie asked, slipping his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties and looking at you expectantly.

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure,” you said, suddenly nervous. It had really been a while.

“I don’t really know what I’m doing,” Eddie admitted as he slowly peeled your panties off your body, eyes trailing down as they went. “But I want to try.” He flashed you a smirk. “I’m an eager learner.”

You drew in a shaky breath. “Okay.”

With your panties gone and your body now fully exposed, Eddie properly drank you in. He got on his knees between your legs, lowering his upper body until he was laying with his face right at your pussy.

He breathed you in again, then he experimentally traced his tongue along your folds.

“Oh!” you gasped, resisting the instinct to draw your legs together. It was unexpected, but it didn’t feel bad.

He spread your lips with his fingers and dove in with his tongue, licking over your clit. You gasped again, hands going down to pull at Eddie’s curls. “Oh, god, Eds.”

“Good?” he asked before immediately going back to what he was doing.

“Y-yeah,” you breathed. “Feels good.”

“Good,” he muttered. He pressed a finger against your entrance, eyes moving up to your face to make sure you didn’t look upset. When you just kept that same pleased look on your face, Eddie slipped the long finger inside.

“Eddie,” you whined, writhing on the bed beneath his mouth and fingers. He began pumping it in and out, curling it deep inside. “How are you so good at this?”

Eddie had no fucking idea. He was going on instinct. Maybe he just…knew you. Like you, your body, was made specifically for him.

He slipped a second finger inside of you, knowing his fingers were no comparison for the size of his cock. His tongue teased your clit for what felt like hours, then he would suck at it, sending you reeling.

“Oh shit Eddie,” you moaned. “I’m gonna cum.”

Eddie had never been so delighted to hear anything in his life. He put his all into eating you out, his own cock so unbearably hard he thought he was gonna lose it. When you squeezed around his fingers, he moaned, sending vibrations through your clit and sending you over the edge immediately.

“Eddie!” you cried. “Eddie, Eddie, oh my god-“

He couldn’t get enough of you saying his name. He wanted to hear it again and again for the rest of his life. He worked you through your orgasm, unsure when to stop. He got the hint when you started pushing his head away.

“Was that good?” he asked, all big brown eyed innocence. He really wanted to know. His lips and chin were still soaked with your release.

“It was amazing,” you told him, kissing him gently. He beamed from the praise.

“I want you so bad,” Eddie said, shaking his head. “You- have no fuckin’ idea-“

“I want you too,” you told him truthfully. “Bad.”

Eddie smirked, kissing you again. He pushed you back down onto the bed, then sat up on his knees and pushed his boxers down. Your eyes widened at the sight of his hard cock bobbing at his lower stomach, so long, thick-

“You like what you see?” he teased, but you could hear the nerves in his voice clear as day.

“I do.” You pulled him close to you, so his body was pressed to yours once again. “Want it inside of me.”

Eddie groaned, his cock twitching against your thigh. He kissed over your neck and chest. “I don’t…” he sighed. “I don’t have a condom, you know that, right?”

“It’s okay,” you said. “Just pull out.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

“We might die tonight,” you told him, serious although there was a playful tilt to your voice. “So, I don’t know about you, but I’m not gonna let the lack of a condom keep me from you.”

Eddie nearly lost it right there at the proof of how badly you wanted him, too. “Yeah. I don’t…I don’t want to miss out on this.”

Not only were you about to let him fuck you, but you were about to let him fuck you raw. The thought alone sent a shudder through Eddie’s body. He reached between your bodies, running the head of his cock through your folds, up and down.

It felt nice, but he didn’t stop.

“What are you doing?” you giggled.

“I, uh…” He was blushing hard, avoiding eye contact with you. “I can’t really find the, uh…”

“Believe me, I’ll let you know if you’re at the wrong one,” you teased him. But you replaced his hand with yours, Eddie drawing in a gasp of air at the feeling of your hand on his cock. You lined him up where you needed him. “There you go.”

Slowly, carefully, Eddie began to push inside. His jaw immediately went slack, his eyes squeezing shut and his fists tightening in the sheets. A low groan came from his chest as he sunk into your pussy inch by agonizingly slow inch.

“Jeeesus,” he gritted out through clenched teeth. “You are tight. And wet, and warm-“ He cut himself off with another loud moan.

“You’re so big,” you whispered, brushing his curls back from his face. You wanted to see all of him.

“Yeah?” He was out of breath, looking down at you with awe as he thrusted in and out of you. He didn’t exactly know what he was doing, but the sheer energy and enthusiasm he put into it made you feel good, too.

“Such a good cock, baby,” you purred. Eddie preened at your praise, and you knew you had unlocked something about him. “So good with it, too,” you said.

“Am I making you feel good?” he asked.

“Mmhmm,” you nodded. “Feels so good. You’re so deep in me, baby.”

Eddie whimpered - because god, he knew. He was burying himself to the hilt with every thrust, and even with his lack of experience, he knew he wasn’t small. He was surprised you were taking all of him - he’d heard sometimes that could be a problem. He worried it would be a problem for him - but, fuck, you were taking every inch.

You were moving your hips up in time with his frantic thrusts, and he was getting close. “Feels…s-so good,” he stuttered. He was lost in it, lost in the pleasure, lost in you.

“You gonna cum for me?” you whispered, and Eddie whimpered.

“Yeah,” he moaned. “Gonna cum.”

“Cum inside me.”

Eddie’s hips stuttered, almost blowing his load at that second. “Babe- really? Are you sure?”

“Yes, Eddie, do it, please,” you begged him. “I…” You met his eyes. “I’m scared. And for right now, I have you. I want to be close to you. As close as we can be.”

Eddie groaned, his head dropping down to hide against your neck. “You’re fuckin’ killin’ me.”

“Only if you want to,” you added.

“Are you kidding? Ah- I want to do that so fuckin’ bad - oh shit - you have no fuckin’ idea. Hah-“

Eddie’s thrusts were shallow now, keeping himself as deep in you as he could be. His balls were pressed against your ass with every thrust, his fingers were tihtening on your hips, and then-

“Shit!” Eddie cursed, thrusting in hard as he came, filling you with his spend. “Shit, oh god, oh god oh fuck-“ He kept moving his hips, every drop making it deep into you.

You felt so close to him in that moment. Like you had shared something so intimate - and you had. It didn’t feel like just sex. This was something else. You had been changed, both of you - you could feel it.

Eddie pulled out of you, grabbing a cigarette from his pack. He put it between his lips and lit it, taking slow drags as he calmed himself. While Eddie smoked against the head of the bed, still naked, you went to the bathroom to clean yourself up. You slipped back into your panties and Eddie’s t-shirt.

He smiled as you climbed back into bed with him. “Look what I found.”

You watched him curiously as he leaned off the bed, reaching under the table - and pulling out a polaroid camera.

“Cool!” you said, taking it from Eddie’s hands. “Should we take a picture?”

“Right now?” Eddie laughed. “All post-sex, with me still naked?”

“No one will know you’re naked,” you waved him off. “C’mere.”

Eddie snuggled closer to you on the bed. You held the camera out and you both smiled as you clicked the shutter button. You put the camera down as the photo began printing from the bottom. You and Eddie watched as it developed - it wasn’t obvious you two had just had sex in this photo, but it wasn’t exactly innocent either. Your hair was mussed, Eddie’s shirt was off, tattoos exposed. You could see the blanket pulled up to your laps. And you both had the biggest smiles on your satisfied, slightly flushed faces.

“I love you,” Eddie said, kissing you again.

“I love you too,” you told him easily. You wanted to tell him every day for the rest of forever.

“We should get some sleep,” Eddie said. “At least a nap. We have a big night ahead of us.”

Eddie spooned himself around you, holding your body close to him. You felt safe. You felt loved. You felt lucky.

—

That night, the plan went into action.

You were all geared up, weapons in hand. Steve pulled up in front of the Creel house, dropping off Max, Lucas, and Erica. No one said anything during the drive. The atmosphere was tense. Every one of you knew you might die tonight. You knew all too well how things could be ripped from your screaming, crying grasp.

You hoped if anyone had to die, it would be you.

Not because you were suicidal - god, no. But you didn’t think you could handle losing someone else. Every single person involved tonight was important to you. You couldn’t stand to lose anyone. Not again.

With the RV parked, it was time to go.

“Okay. I wanna run through it one more time,” Nancy said. “Phase one.”

“We meet Erica at the playground,” Robin said. “She’ll signal Max and Lucas when we’re ready.”

Nancy nodded. “Phase two.”

“Max baits Vecna,” Steve said. “He’ll go after her, which will put him in his trance.”

“Phase three?”

“Me and Eddie draw the bats away,” Dustin said proudly. Eddie smiled, grabbing the younger boy’s head.

“Four.”

“We head into Vecna’s newly bat-free lair, and…” Robin sloshed the molotov cocktail. “Flambé.”

“Nobody moves on to the next phase until we’ve all copied,” you said, looking around at each and every person in the RV. Your eyes lingered on Eddie and Dustin a little extra long. “Nobody deviates from the plan, no matter what. Got it?”

Everyone nodded. “Got it.”

And off the RV you went. You walked through the woods into Forest Hills, sneaking into the Munson trailer. Eddie squeezed your hand one final time before you entered the trailer with the others.

“Be careful,” Dustin said as Steve examined the rope.

“Here goes nothing,” Steve said. He pulled himself up with ease, then did a perfect flip into the upside down, landing on his feet. He looked back up at the rest of you, shrugging.

“Ooh, what does he want us to do, applaud?” Robin said sarcastically. You just giggled, Nancy hiding her own laugh.

Steve pulled out the mattress in the upside down and set it up. “Alright, let’s go.”

Robin got down on her knee to help Nancy climb up. She fell through successfully, Steve helping her up. “Gotcha.”

Next was your stuff, followed by Eddie. Eddie’s nail shield, Robin, more supplies, Dustin, even more supplies, and then finally, you. Steve and Eddie both offered you their hands. You took them both and they pulled you up with ease.

Once again all geared up, you walked out of the trailer into the upside down.

“Hey, guys, listen,” Steve said, turning and walking back to Eddie and Dustin. “If things here start to go south, I mean, at all, you abort. Okay? Draw the attention of the bats. Keep ‘em busy for a minute or two. We’ll take care of Vecna. Don’t try to be cute or be a hero or something. Okay? You guys are just-“

“Decoys,” Dustin finished with him. “Don’t worry. You can be the hero, Steve.”

“Absolutely,” Eddie said. “I mean, look at us. We are nottt heroes.” He smiled.

Steve looked at them for another second before turning around. You stepped forward then, looking at two of the most important things in your entire life. How had Eddie buried himself so deeply into your heart so quickly?

“Dusty,” you said, placing both hands on his shoulders. “You listen to Steve. Do not deviate from the plan. Do not do anything stupid. I need you home in one piece or mom will kill me.”

You had to joke, because if you didn’t you’d just cry.

Dustin smiled up at you, and you wanted to pull him in for a big hug like you always did. “I won’t. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You brushed a hair through his curls. Next you went to Eddie, standing close enough that he could hear you but no one else could.

“I love you,” you said, practically choking on the emotion in your voice. You would not cry.

“I love you too,” Eddie said. He longed to brush his fingers along the side of your face, or push your hair behind your ear. More than anything, he longed to kiss you. He knew that after tonight, he’d be able to - you’d be his, everyone would know it, and he could kiss you breathless in front of anyone.

“Please don’t be stupid,” you said. “And take care of my brother.”

“I’d guard him with my life,” Eddie bowed his head to you. “Go. We’ve got this. And tonight we’ll celebrate.”

You smiled at that. You forced yourself to turn and join the others.

“Oh, and guys?” Eddie said, making both of you turn around. “Make him pay.”

That was something you could all agree to promise. With that last note, you, Steve, Nancy and Robin took off in the direction of the Creel house.

—

After a stressful walk in the woods and nearly getting lost, you made it to the house. It only looked even more ominous in the Upside Down.

Phase 3 began, and you could hear the sound of Eddie’s guitar all the way from there. You had never heard him play before. It sent your heart thundering like a schoolgirl crush. You were snapped back to reality when the demobats went swarming in their direction, and you were left with a sinking feeling in your stomach.

“Okay, it’s working. Let’s go,” Nancy said. The four of you made your way into the Creel house.

The floors were covered with vines. You carefully jumped around them, trying hard not to accidentally awaken anything. Steve reached the top of the stairs first and turned back to help you, Nancy, and Robin.

The house began to shake, as if something was crashing into it. Steve held onto you and the others, and you squeezed your eyes shut, taking deep breaths. When it was over, Steve silently looked the three of you over to make sure you were okay.

You thought you were in the clear for all of about 5 seconds before the vines from the floor came alive, wrapping themselves around your ankles and pulling you into the wall, more vines wrapping around your whole body. You screamed. “Steve! Nancy! Robin!”

The others hit the vines with their weapons, but it wasn’t phasing them at all. The vines grabbed Steve and wrapped him against the other wall - Nancy and Robin turned and watched, wide eyed. You knew you were in trouble.

Nancy and Robin were knocked to the floor next, vines wrapping around their necks and holding them to the wall just like you and Steve.

You couldn’t breathe. The vines were slithering, smothering, tightening. Squeezing your neck tighter, tighter. You couldn’t move a muscle, couldn’t even grab at the vines around your neck. All you could do was struggle for breath as you watched the same thing happen to your closest friends.

Was this your punishment? To watch your friends die? What had you done to deserve your loved ones dying brutally again and again?

Then the vines…stopped.

You dropped to the ground as they let go, coughing and sputtering as the vines slid away. You looked around at all your friends, making sure everyone was okay.

“I don’t believe in a higher power, or divine intervention,” Robin said. “But that was a miracle.”

You cocked your gun. “Then we better not waste it.”

“Phase 4,” Steve said.

“Flambé.”

In the attic, Vecna had already been damaged. Someone was fighting with you.

He fell to the ground in flames. The four of you eyed him. Then Robin flicked her lighter, lighting the molotov cocktail - and threw it. It knocked him back and you stepped forward with the sawed off shotgun.

You shot him again and again, each one knocking him back. He screamed and you lifted the gun again - firing a shot that knocked him back and out the window.

The four of you ran outside, seeing nothing but the charred remains where his burning body had landed. Vecna was gone.

Just as you were about to leave, the clock chimed four times.

“Max.”

The gates split open.

—

The four of you were bruised and battered as you made your way back to Forest Hills. You just needed to see Eddie and your brother. Needed to know they were safe. It was the only thing keeping your legs moving.

You thought you might kiss Eddie in front of everybody when you saw him. Fuck waiting for tomorrow. You knew you’d be so relieved when you saw him, there would be no thoughts besides feeling his lips on yours.

It was quiet. The only sounds your shoes scuffing against the pavement. Then, in the distance - a screaming. The sound made you sick. You all exchanged a look and took off running in that direction.

Please no. Please god, no. Please please please.

It was Dustin. You recognized his cries, although you had never heard him sound quite so pained. You were hurrying to where he kneeled surrounded by piles of demobats and-

He was holding a body.

You stopped. You felt bile rising in your throat. You watched on as Steve, Nancy, and Robin reached Dustin, finally making the realization that you already had. Steve covered his mouth with his hand, like he couldn’t believe what he was looking at. Nancy and Robin hugged each other.

Steve wrapped his arms around Dustin, but he looked back at you.

You didn’t need to come any closer to know. Your knees gave out, and you cried. You wailed, you screamed, you cursed god, you cursed Vecna, you cursed the whole fucking universe.

Robin and Nancy didn’t understand. Dustin was too enveloped in his own shock and grief to even notice you. But Steve did. He saw you. He had seen the both of you.

He cared for Eddie, but his heart actively cracked in his chest for you and Dustin. And, god, Eddie’s uncle. They were all each other had.

You made yourself get up. Steve let go of Dustin and stood, holding his hand out. “I really don’t think you should-“

“Let me see him,” you croaked.

Steve wouldn’t tell you no. He couldn’t tell you no. He backed off to the side and let you step forward.

Your legs gave out and you collapsed to the ground next to Dustin. Dustin turned and wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in your shirt and crying harder than he did when he broke his arm in three different places when he was 10. You subconsciously stroked his hair the way that had calmed him since he was a baby. But your eyes were locked on Eddie.

There was no doubt he was gone. His face, his mouth covered in blood. His lips that had told you he loved you for the first time today. His open, staring eyes, once so big and still full of childlike wonder even at his disillusioned, cynical age.

You reached for his hand. He was freezing cold. He needs a blanket, you thought. He’s cold. He shouldn’t be cold.

Steve, Nancy, and Robin discussed what to do while you and Dustin held each other, oblivious to what was going on around you.

“We’ve got to get him out of here,” Steve said. “We can’t just leave his body here.”

“How are we gonna do that?” Robin asked, sadness emanating from everything about her.

“Blanket?” Steve suggested. “I-I think we can do it.”

Nancy and Robin looked back over at you and Dustin. “Do you think she can-“

“Don’t ask her to help,” Steve said quickly.

Robin pursed her lips together, like there was a question she was dying to ask but wouldn’t let escape her lungs. “Were they…?”

“No,” Steve said. “I mean…long story. You just haven’t been paying close enough attention.”

—

It had been two days since the events in the upside down. Two days since Eddie had been taken from you.

They called the gates opening a 7.4 earthquake. It absolutely destroyed Hawkins. So many people died, people totally unrelated to the upside down.

They were still calling Eddie a murderer, a satanist. You couldn’t stand to have the news on - it made you sick. Eddie was a good person.

You hadn’t been able to get his body out of the upside down. The thought haunted you day and night - Eddie, alone in there, cold. So cold.

It was like you’d gone back to square one after you’d lost Billy. You had worked so hard to come out of this hole, and here you were again. Depressed, miserable, alone. Constant panic attacks and nightmares.

Steve, Robin, and Dustin convinced you to come with them to the school for the supplies drive. You didn’t want to go. You didn’t want to do anything but lay in bed and cry. But they insisted it would be good for you.

You helped them carry the boxes into the gym. Dustin was still limping from his injury. The gym was packed with people who’s homes were destroyed. Your heart ached for them, but it ached for Eddie even worse.

You dropped the boxes off at the table. “So organized,” the volunteer said. “Do you want a tax receipt for it?”

“Um, no, that’s okay,” Robin said. “But, uh…is there anything else we can do to help?”

You helped Dustin pass out water. You didn’t like being far from him these days. Dustin froze, nearly making you walk right into him. You followed his line of vision - and your stomach sunk.

Wayne Munson was walking up to the bulletin board. He removed a vandalized missing persons poster of Eddie from the board and replaced it with a clean one.

Your lips parted, tears gathering in your eyes, and you were worried you were about to have another panic attack in front of all of these people. You grabbed Dustin’s hand, who didn’t realize how badly you were freaking out.

“I think I need to go talk to him,” Dustin said. “He deserves to know.”

You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t say anything. You just watched as Dustin limped over to the weary looking man.

“Mr. Munson?”

Wayne turned to look at Dustin, but didn’t say anything.

“I’m Dustin Henderson,” your brother continued. “Can we talk?”

“I can’t imagine we got anything to talk about,” Wayne said. “My nephew is innocent. He’s still missing. I’ll put up as many posters as I need until he’s found.” He grabbed his bag roughly off the floor. “Good day to you.”

“I was with him,” Dustin said. Wayne stopped. He looked over his shoulder at Dustin. “I was with him when the earthquake hit.”

Wayne looked at him again, his gaze darting down to the floor. “And…where is Eddie now?”

You could see Dustin’s face crumpling from across the room. Your own heart clenched in your chest. Dustin reached into his pocket, pulling out Eddie’s guitar pick necklace. Wayne looked at it, then back up to Dustin’s face. “I…I’m so sorry.”

Wayne took the pick with a shaking hand, his face falling as he recognized the necklace as his nephew’s. He let out a shaky breath and sat down. Dustin limped over to sit next to him.

“I wish everyone had gotten to know him. Really know him. Because they would’ve loved him, Mr. Munson. They would’ve loved him.” Wayne was listening. “Even in the end…he never stopped being Eddie. Despite everything. I never even saw him get mad.”

Wayne nodded, trying his best to hold back tears. Dustin continued. “He could’ve run. He could’ve saved himself. But he fought. He fought and died to protect this town. This town that…hated him. He isn’t just innocent��Mr. Munson, he’s…he’s a hero.”

Wayne held the guitar pick close as he cried. Dustin sat with him.

You watched from afar, powerless to say anything or let anyone know what Eddie had meant to you, what you had had together.

After Wayne left, you caught up with Dustin again. He looked just as defeated as you felt. “You ready to go?” you asked him softly. “I think Steve and Robs are ready for us.”

Dustin just nodded. He followed you through the gym and towards the exit doors.

“He said your name.”

You stopped. “What?”

“Eddie,” Dustin said, and the name alone sent a rush of emotion through your body.

“What are you talking about, Dusty?”

“Before he played, to distract the bats in the Upside Down,” Dustin sniffed, shaking his head like he couldn’t make sense of the memory. “Before he played, he said your name. He said this one’s for her.”

You might as well have been shot in the chest. “O-oh,” you croaked, feeling like your legs were about to give out.

He’d said your name. This one’s for her.

For you. For you. For you.

—

You were so wrapped up in your own misery you didn’t even notice you missed your period.

When you started getting sick, you figured it was another side effect of the depression and trauma. Wouldn’t surprise you. Your mom was worried sick, and you kept having to make up excuses for Dustin - oh, I must have come down with something - because here you were, twice as torn up about Eddie, and you were hardly supposed to know the guy.

Having to pee a million times? Maybe you’d just been drinking more water, Nancy had been on you about that and even bought you that new water bottle. Boobs doubling in size? Must be your bras shrinking in the wash.

It was when the symptoms didn’t go away that you got worried.

Alone, they could be explained away easily. Together and unending? Something was going on.

You felt sick as you looked at yourself in the mirror. How had you not noticed? You looked different. Your boobs, your skin, your hair. You even examined your stomach closely, but there was nothing new there.

But, fuck. You definitely had an idea of what was happening.

You were calling Nancy before you even thought better of it. Nancy would know what to do. The phone rang a couple times before her sweet voice picked up.

“Hello, Wheeler residence?”

“Nancy,” you said. “I have an emergency.”

She was at your house with a pregnancy test in minutes. Thank god Dustin and your mom were both out. Nancy slipped into the house like a ninja, handing off the pharmacy bag like a ticking time bomb.

“Are you okay?” she asked you.

You shrugged. You hadn’t had time to process your feelings on the potential situation. Hadn’t allowed yourself to. You just took the test into the bathroom, did your thing, and went back out to wait with Nancy.

It was a tense 30 minutes.

When Nancy’s watch timer went off, you both practically jumped out of your skin. You stood slowly, legs shaking, unsure if they’d even carry you back to the bathroom for the answers you seek. Somehow you make it there, and you lean against the counter for support as you make yourself open your eyes and read the results.

Blue. Pregnant.

You choked out a sob, hand coming to rest on your stomach. Oh, Eddie. What had you two done?

Nancy knocked on the door, calling your name. “Are…are you okay in there?”

You opened the door, and she could tell immediately. “Oh, honey,” she mumbled, pulling you in for a tight hug. You allowed yourself to cry into her shoulder, to feel the pain for a moment. You didn’t open yourself up to it often anymore.

After she got you sitting on your bed, pregnancy test discreetly disposed of, she held your hands as you talked. “The dad…” she began, knowing it would be a touchy subject no matter who it was. “Have you…told him? Who is it?”

The tears burst through like a dam at that question. You were just immediately sobbing - it took Nancy aback. She placed her hands on your upper arms. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m going to help you. Who is it?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, then looked up, like could my life be any more of a cruel joke? What did you do to deserve the shit you’d been put through in the last couple of years?

Nancy repeated your name. “Who is it?”

You choked out another small sob. “Eddie.”

Nancy’s eyes went wide. “It- you and-“ her voice dropped to a whisper. “The baby is Eddie’s?”

You nodded, face just crumbling into more tears. “Oh,” Nancy said, rubbing your arms as if you were cold - and you were, suddenly - all the understanding in the world in that simple word.

“When did you…?” she asked, although she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer.

But getting to talk about Eddie always made you feel better - even though this particular topic made you blush. It also made you smile at the memory. “It was when we went back to your place in the RV.”

“When we slept?” she asked.

“Some sleeping was done,” you smiled sheepishly.

Nancy giggled, smiling at you like she hadn’t seen one from you in over a month and it was a welcome sight. She wiped your tears away.

“Nancy, what the fuck am I gonna do?” you asked with a laugh, but you were totally serious.

Nancy was honest. “I…don’t know.” She brushed your hair back, much like Eddie would. “But we always figure it out.”

tag list

@moon-esque @emxxblog @samslvrgirl @kthomps914 @kellsck

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strange0-0storm · 10 months ago

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"You weren't the same"

I plan on drawing more of Tate's perspective in Fiddlefords downfall into insanity as well as Fidd's wife

Oh how I LOVE DRAWING ANGST

ALSO GUYS FIDDLEFORD CALLED TATE "TATERTOT" YA CANT CHANGE MY MINDDD

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spikedfearn · 2 months ago

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okay but what if I wrote a chaptered Remmick x reader fic where you and Remmick reincarnate across time and space, again and again, until you can learn to get it right

(and what if some of the lives we see you and Remmick live out are some of Jack's past roles like Skins, Lady Chatterley's Lover, Godless, Little Fish, etc)

#it'll be heavy on the angst #you always lose each other #until you ultimately land in timeline that allows you both to be together #this would allow me to write multiple mini aus in one fic #and i could write for multiple of this man's roles 😩#honestly this one will be for the Jack girlies #sinners remmick #remmick x reader #remmick x you #skins uk #lady chatterley's lover #little fish #godless 2017 #jack o'connell

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desturns · 2 months ago

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──── favorite position. m.s.

part one

warnings. some grinding, tickling session, major pussy behavior

a/n. bye i decided to make a pt two to this randomly, but this might just be a little series with only three parts sooo... this is fun!!

୨ৎ

matt didn't attempt to move once. after you had fallen back to sleep and somehow melted into him even more than before, it was like he died and went to heaven about fifty times. how else would he have been so lucky to have this angel sleeping right in his lap, practically straddling him as your head rested on his shoulder? it was everything he'd dreamed of and more.

of course, his brothers weren't very angelic when it came to their teasing.

“i’m just sayin’, kid, maybe it's time to actually do something instead of sittin’ back like a bitch—”

“chris, hey! he's not a bitch… he's a pussy, there's a difference.”

“oh, wow, thanks for the help, nick,” matt sarcastically replied as he simply rolled his eyes, no longer focusing on the game as they all just talked. he noticed you wiggled slightly, but didn't think much of it.

“just the truth, bro. only pussies have their crush—” “—not my crush—” “—sleep on their laps without making a move. y’know, not while they're asleep, but y'had the opportunity to do something when she woke up.”

“she was tired and was gonna get off me, me asking her to stay was me making my move.”

“damn, matty, your moves are weak then.”

“shut up, chris.”

“i’m just sayin’, matt. when the opportunity presents itself, y'can't be a pussy and back out. get her, dude.”

again, he felt you move against him and at first, he wasn't going to question it. maybe you were just having an intense dream or you were stirring around on his lap to get more comfortable. that seemed obvious, right? but it wasn't until he felt your hips roll against his thigh that matt thought to himself, okay, a little strange, but whatever.

and then it happened again. and then once more. now being both incredibly confused and slightly curious, he pulled his head back enough to look at your face, and it was no surprise when he saw you were still soundly asleep. both your eyes were closed and for a second, you looked like the perfect essence of peacefulness.

and then it happened again, this time a bit more firmly, and your eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, followed by the smallest whine. matt was positive if he was still entertaining chris and nick, he wouldn't have even been able to hear it.

oh.

so you were having an intense dream

it all clicked right there for matt. his eyes widened a bit and his body tensed up, and he could practically feel the blood rushing to his dick. in his defense, nothing could've prepared him for this. here you were, the girl he's been secretly pining after for months, having a wet dream right on top of him, your body subconsciously grinding against him for some relief. yeah, he knew getting hard at the scene was probably extremely wrong and disrespectful in many ways, but he just couldn't help it.

he could no longer hear chris or nick teasing him about his poor flirting skills or even pay attention to the trio on the screen about to kill him because before he knew it, you were rocking your hips again. he bit his bottom lip in order to suppress a groan as his brain was currently racking up ways to get out of this situation. at least before you woke up and it got really awkward.

“matt, hello? y'there?” in that moment, he didn't really want to be.

“y-yeah, um, i’m here, uh,” he stumbled over his words for a second, his hand leaving his controller and moving to your hip, softly holding it so he could get the courage to stop you and toss you onto his bed. okay, maybe not toss, but to stop you definitely. “actually guys, um, i-i’m gonna get off, ‘kay?”

“kid, we’re in the middle of a game right now, are you serious?”

“yes, chris, ’m serious.” was all matt responded with before leaving the discord call, his hand still firmly on your hip as you occasionally rocked your hips, his other working fast to exit out of everything on his pc.

the dim light from the monitor plus the sound of your shorts rubbing against his sweats was starting to become a bit too much for him. matt wasn't dumb, any longer and his dick would be rock hard and then that'll definitely be awkward if you woke up. so, with much restraint and strength and now holding onto both of your hips, he stiffed your movements, bringing you to a stop. he couldn't just get up, he wasn't that strong. plus, matt was a bit nervous he'd drop you before he could even reach the bed despite it being a foot away.

he could feel your body trying to protest the halt, your hands around his waist tightening slightly, more little whines escaping your mouth and matt honestly wanted to die right then and there. of course, the first time he gets you like this, you're not even conscious of it, and there was no way he'd take advantage of you. not like this.

he was going to do it the right way.

suddenly, your body stopped and matt could feel you tense up.

now, to say you were horribly mortified was an understatement. when matt stopped you in real time, it was like your dream came crashing down. the mysterious faceless man in it stopped his ministrations and you were so incredibly pent up, so pent up that your body refused to find solace in sleep any longer. it didn't take an idiot to figure out what the hell happened, especially when you woke up with soaked panties sticking to your folds and matt's hands on your hips. did you…? no. surely not. right? no, there's no way.

but it was hard to deny when you could now feel matt's dick through his sweats and suddenly, you were shooting your head up from his shoulder, no longer tired. “oh my god, matt! i am so– i'm sorry!” you were speaking with a raspy voice, both from the ridiculous amount of exhaustion and humiliation you just experienced.

he quickly shook his head, trying to hide his flustered expression while also finding the strength to take his hands off you. it’ll come eventually, he was sure. “no, no, i-i mean, it happens, right? you're cool, it’s fine!”

“i can't believe i did that, matty, i am so sorry!” you shrieked again and hid your face in your hands, shaking your head at yourself. you were sure your cheeks were now tomato red and, with the way his hands were on your hips, it was getting worse.

matt stared at you as you tried to shield yourself from his gaze, trying to save yourself from the embarrassment. he thought it was downright adorable, the way you got all flushed and shy. he knew it was for good reason, and he so badly wanted to tell you that it truly was okay, that he didn't even mind. but something held him back and instead of making a move, or charm you into having him ease that ache of yours, he chose the safest route.

and maybe he just wanted to see you smile again.

he took one last moment to look at you perched on his lap, all self-conscious now and guarded up before slowly moving his hands from your hips to your sides. you were confused when you felt his hands move, but before you could even question it, his fingers were tickling the most sensitive part he knew would get to you. your hands immediately moved from your face, moving to try and grab him to stop as laughs and giggles left your lips.

your predicament of getting yourself off on his thigh was momentarily forgotten, now focused on getting him to stop making you squirm in a new way.

“s-st-stop, m-matt!” was all you could express as you flailed on top of him, your face burning itself in his shoulder.

there it was. he could see your lips stretched wide across your face, your smile making him forget about his own arousal as he continued to make you laugh. “not until you promise to stop actin’ embarrassed about it,” he chuckled, the teasing tone in his voice making your stomach flip.

“i-it-it's an emb-barassing thing!” you tried to defend yourself through the forced involuntary giggles that were escaping you. as he tickled you, you slowly but gently began to fall off his lap and onto the floor, but that didn't stop him.

“it is, but it's normal!” he rolled his eyes, his hands now moving under your arms and to the back of your neck. god, who needed grinding and sex when just the sight of you rolling around in laughter was enough to get him off then and there. “y/n, babe, i promise— i don't care. i’d just prefer that next time, you're conscious for it.”

his words made your brain freeze. ‘babe’. ‘if next time, you were conscious for it’. next time? he wanted there to be a next time? you tapped his arm twice, the silent but serious “enough” signal the two of you created and he took the hint almost immediately, his hands leaving your body in an instant as he looked down at you.

you were on your back on the floor, all flushed, chest heaving and your hair sprawled out beneath you. you looked gorgeous. and matt was glad he didn't follow any of his brothers advice. and as you looked up at him, you didn't know what to say. thankfully, matt didn't waste time before continuing, his voice now a bit unsure and hesitant as he realized what the hell he just said.

“i mean, y’know, if y’want to. i wouldn't want to make things weird between us or ruin things or make you, um–y’know what? forget i said anything, actually–do y’need some pajamas or anything, wanna go in the living room—”

“matt,” you cut him off once you caught your own breath, a small smile now on your face. “stop worrying. next time, i’ll definitely be conscious for it.”

it was if you took your fist and physically hit his stomach. he thought he was being too straight forward, but knowing that you were agreeing, that you seemed into it... it was doing things for him.

as you got up from the floor and moved to the living room, as matt's brain caught up with the intense beating of his heart and as he ignored the countless texts from chris asking “what the hell was going on up there”—there was a silent understanding.

and that was good enough for matt.

596 notes · View notes

peoniesnro · 2 months ago

Text

Perfect Partner | Sequel 2.1

Synopsis - You find you have no one to turn to except, Jeon Jungkook!!

Paring- Jeon Jungkook × Reader

Genre- Yandere | Dark Romance

Warnings- Yandere (Mentions of kidnapping/ Emotional manipulation/ Toxic and unhealthy love/ Obsessive Love/ Threats against loved once/ Forced Intimacy/ Abusive behavior/ Controlling behavior/ Power play/ Jeon is the same sweet asshole/ Unhealthy coping mechanisms/ Reader is broken/ Possesiveness/ Hope I haven't missed anything) SMUT (Making out/ Finger suckings (Palm too)/ Dry humping/ Humiliation/ Begging/ Groping/ Heavy degradation/ Dirty talking/ Unprotected sex/ Rough sex/ Multiple orgasms/ Begging for cum/ Chocking/ Creampie/ Shower sex/ Threats during sex/ Crying during sex/ Daddy kink!!/ Sex tapes/ Mentions of bondage, shoe ridings/ Again I hope I missed none) Please remember this is yandere!!!

Word count- 18.7K

a/n- Hello there babies!!!! My apologies for splitting the sequel into two parts but I had to considering this was getting too long (we have 18K words already). If I contniued to write untill the end, I'd have ended up writing 50K words and we all would've be in our sixties by the time I uploaded it. So,bear with me while I first upload this one and let's wait for the next one. Also, in this one I paid more attention to SMUT (like half of this is smut), so it might looks like nothing is happening. But I promise, the sereis will end with the next part. (Let's hope Daebi gets what she deserves!) Thank you so much for reading and the support you've shown. I love you all sosososososooo much ❤️.

RUNRUNRUN

This is the second sequel, read the first part here -

Perfect Partner

Coffee?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You open your heavy eyelids, feeling as if they are glued. Every inch of your body is sore. Head throbbing. Unmistakable signs of heavy crying in the previous night. You wince in pain as the bright sunlight leaking through the ashy curtains strikes your eyes. You groan softly as you try to move your body,only to realize you can’t. That’s when you realize that you’re not even in bed. In fact, you can see the empty spacious bed right across you.

You’re sitting upright. A soft gasp escapes you. Memories of the previous night slowly start to flood your mind.

The call.

Jungkook.

The video.

Daebi.

Hoseok.

And your little breakdown!

The last thing you can remember is you crying ugly into Jungkook’s oversized t-shirt. His words which didn’t quite reach your ears. His soft kisses on your hair. And his arms that were safely wrapped around your petite figure. The very same arms still wrapped around you.

You’re still in his lap.

Still in the same position where you sobbed like a grieving widow. Your head pressed against his chest. One of your hands is still clutching the fabric of his t-shirt tightly, curled up like a wounded puppy. Jungkook’s cheek is propped up on your head. And judging by the way his chest heaves ever so gently, you know he is asleep. He has fallen asleep while keeping you on his lap. For the entire night. The realization almost makes you feel bad. Almost though. Because no matter what, he is still your kidnapper and waking up in his arms it doesn’t bring comfort.

Absolutely not!

It sends a chill down your spine. You need to get away from him. It was a moment of weakness that you had the previous night. You were heartbroken. Devastated. It was unbearable pain that you endured. It pained you more than how it pained you the day Hoseok told you that he needs to break up. That he’s in love with someone else. Having your boyfriend cheated on you was another thing. But the woman who he cheated with to be your best friend? That’s a completely new territory of pain.

Then she helped this lunatic to get you into this situation? The thought alone makes you want to laugh aloud. How crazy is that? How pathetic is your life?

You ran to Daebi when Hoseok broke up with you. And she had you crying on her shoulder while she was the reason for your tears. She trashed Hoseok like she genuinely despised him with her guts. She got wasted with you on your hardest nights. Only for everything to turn into a lie. One blatant lie.

It’s humiliating when you think about those moments now. How oblivious you’ve been. Hell, you even ran to her when the AI Jungkook started to scare the shit out of you. AOnce again, you ran to the very person behind it all.

Will there be anything harsher that can happen in your life? You don’t think so. So, of course, you were hysterical last night. And this motherfucker, who thought he had the right to drag your already pitiful, pathetic life even lower- had taken advantage of the situation. You would’ve never allowed him to even lay a finger on you if it wasn’t the pain that numbed you of the other senses.

You wish you could just storm away from his hold. Scream at him. Let all your pain, anger and frustration out on him. The thing is though, despite everything, he is still the same Jungkook who managed to get you here. The same man who looks at you with a crazed look in his eyes whenever you act stubborn. And unfortunately, you are still the same person you were yesterday. Broken. Weak. Scared. Trapped. You are still afraid of this man. Very. Hence your weak attempt of stretching your body slowly. Trying to pry his arms away without waking him. You just want to get out of his hold.

It doesn’t work. Just as you try to move an arm, his grip tightens around you. A soft whimper escapes him as he rubs his cheek against your hair. “No..” He breathes. A quick kiss to the top of your head follows that. You freeze. “Five more minutes please…” He adds again. Voice soft and hoarse and his words are nothing but a quiet murmur. There was a time that the same hoarse voice in the morning had made you blush violently. Made you excited. Made your pussy clench around nothing. And you would like nothing more than to say that it doesn’t do anything like that to you anymore. Nothing even closer. Then why are you clutching his shirt like your life depends on it? Then why does your breath catch up in your throat, that way?

Well, it’s because you are scared. Right? Especially, after what you did yesterday, you have all the reasons to be scared. What if he decided to lock you up in a room? What if he decided to chain you to a wall? What if-

“You hungry?” JungKook brings a hand to push back your hair from your face. Doesn’t take his hand right away. He starts to gently massage your scalp. His voice is still sleepy. His movements are deliberate. “Hm? Pretty?” He questions again in your silence.

“How?” You don’t answer his question. Instead you throw another one at him.

“How, what?” He still doesn’t loosen his grip. Not even a little bit. Keeps you pressed against his body.

“How come you have that v-video?” You manage to get your words out without breaking down. A pang shoots across your chest. You’ll never get over that. No.

“I just happened to have it.” He answers vaguely, much for your displeasure. Yet you decide not to question further about the matter. You change the course instead.

“How lon-” This time your voice cracks up. New lump forming in your throat. It pains you. Even the memory of it pains you as if you’re physically bleeding. Even though hours have passed, the pain returns to you fresh. Just like how it was the first time you saw the video. “L-long?” You clutch Jungkook’s t-shirt even tighter, looking for strength from a piece of fabric. “Ho-how long have they-”

“Longer than you think.” JungKook answers you, saving you the misery of having to ask it aloud. “It doesn’t matter, princess. It’s all in the past now. You need to let that go, you know. They don’t deserve you. You deserve much better. They can fuck off.” He finally loosens his grip a little bit. Just enough for him to bring his hand which was in your hair to your chin, and lift your face up. You just let him. He gazes deeply into your eyes. His eyes glowing golden in the morning light. “They aren't worth your time.” Smiles at you softly.

Easy for him to say. It wasn’t him who had been madly in love with the same person half of his life. It wasn’t him who trusted someone so badly that the very obvious signs have become obscure. You bite into your bottom lip to stop the trembling. To stop the sting in your eyes. You are exhausted. Can’t survive another crying session.

“Hey, hey!” Jungkook sighs. “Don’t cry please. I swear, I didn’t want to hurt you, baby. But you weren’t trusting me enough to know that I’m not the bad guy. You were thinking that bitch of a friend of yours could do any good to you. I had to make you see things clearly. I’m so sorry that it hurts. But I’ll make it okay, yeah? I’ll make sure you’re okay. Don’t cry now. Hate seeing you cry.” He rests his forehead against you. You hate to be so close to him. You’re tired, however. So, you give up. Just focus on trying not to cry. Focus on pretending that his presence actually calms you down.

It’s all because you’re heart broken. Once you’re healed, you’ll never feel comfort in him again. Then, you don’t plan on living this life for that long anyway. It’s not like you got much to lose at this rate. And, besides getting out of this luxurious prison, now you have a confrontation to do. You have to meet Daebi and Hoseok. You have to slap Hoseok hard across his face.

You have to call Daebi a ‘bitch’ to her face.

…………………

You eye your breakfast wearily. Even the sight of the delicious- looking pancakes makes your stomach churn awfully. You have no appetite at all. Jungkook, however, never was a fan of you skipping meals. He’s annoying. Too freaking annoying. All you want is to fall deeper into the hole of misery. Just sulk. Be alone with the pain. Such a shame that you’re not allowed to make even simple decisions for yourself.

It’s ridiculous really. Jungkook hasn’t done anything bad. He’s been nothing but kind to you. Caring. Ever so gentle. Loving. Warm. But you’re still afraid. Maybe that fear is deeply rooted somewhere in your brain. With no way of escaping. Maybe it’s because you’ve experienced how much he can change when it’s needed. How he’s turned into a monster when things aren’t going in his way. He might not have done anything bad yet but deep down you know he will, if he wants that.

So, of course you slightly flinch in your seat when Jungkook suddenly sighs. You know exactly what is coming even before Jungkook opens his mouth. That’s why you instantly dig your fork into the soft pancakes. But then he surprises you with his words.

“You loved him that much? You loved him so bad that it still hurts you? After all this time? It’s been years, isn’t it?”

Yes!

That’s the simple and direct answer. You don’t say it aloud, however. See, the fear. Jungkook will not appreciate that answer.

“Why?” Jungkook asks again. You don’t look at him. Just keep picking at your food. Trying not to think too hard about his question because it’ll surely make you cry again.

Why? He asks. You can come up with a list. You know you can but you don’t want to. Jungkook grabs the stool next to you. It screeches against the floor, making you flinch.

“Tell me, baby? What does that motherfucker have that I don’t?” He bends down in an attempt to look at your eyes. You don’t avoid his eyes nor do you look at them. He won’t like the answers if you tell him. For a start, you would like to bring up the fact that Hoseok hadn’t kidnapped you. How he hadn’t created a damn app to traumatise you. But Jungkook won’t like those answers. Besides, it’s not like you’ve hurt completely because of love. No. You are hurt about many things. You loved Hoseok, yes. Maybe you still do. The thing is, though, you’ve come to the conclusion that he’s a cheater a long time ago. And you’ve been loving him less each day ever since. This is not about that. No. This is about trust and betrayal.

“I don’t love him anymore.” You simply mumble before stuffing your mouth with a forkful of pancakes. Jungkook scoffs.

“Yes, but you did.”

“People make mistakes. It’s just past.”

“Yeah? Then why are you sulking? Why is my pretty girl’s eyes all bloodshot and why does she look so tired?”

You put the stupid fork down. It looks like you will have no way of escaping this conversation. “I hate them,” You exhale. Close your eyes. “I hate them and I hate myself. I hate you. I hate how I trusted them ever so easily. I hate that I trusted you. I hate how much of a stupid, pathetic loser I am. I fucking hate my life.” You blurt out before you can even process. Just as the last word leaves your mouth you feel insanely calmed. As if you’ve put down a heavy burden you’ve been carrying around. Just for a minute, however. In the next minute, your face is caught between Jungkook’s rough fingers. He turns your face toward him. That strangely soft and warm look he had in his eyes all this morning has vanished. In its place now is that madness. The look you fear so much. It’s just like the time you told him that he’s sick and he didn’t love you. He’s staring you down just like he did that day. You gulp harshly. A shiver runs down your spine.

Jungkook brings his face closer to you. Close enough until you can feel the tip of his nose nudging against yours. “You,” he grits. “Can hate them all you want. That is what the bastards deserve. And baby,” he squeezes your cheeks hard. Hard that it hurts you. “You can hate me too. Because like I said, you will learn to love me one day. But,” he pauses for a moment. “Don’t ever fucking say you hate yourself. You hear me?” Questions. “Do you?” Shakes your head. “Do not ever fucking talk bad about you.”

All you can do is stare back at him. Wanting badly to glare. Wanting badly to scream. He controls everything in your life. From what you eat to what you wear. Now he wants to control your thoughts as well? You’re already physically trapped. He wants you to be mentally trapped as well?

“I can do whatever I want.” You spit back. God, you wanted to sound as how you feel. Angry. Spiteful. Powerful. But the way you say it is completely the opposite. You sound weaker than ever. Instead of a statement it sounds like a question. And all that it does is make your eyes well up. How helpless you are.

“No.” Jungkook shakes his head. “No you can’t, Pretty. Because, guess what? You are fucking mine and I don’t like when people talk bad about what’s mine. Even you yourself.” He lets go of your face. Just to pick up the fork. You stay motionless as he takes a piece of pancake in it and brings it to your mouth. “Now just eat like a good girl.”

You turn your gaze away. Oh, the way you want to throw a tantrum. The way you want to stand up for yourself. “I’m not hungry.” You use your palms to wipe away the unshed tears from your eyes. Jungkook exhales in frustration.

“If you want revenge, I can make that happen, you know. I can avenge you.” He drops the fork without any further fuss, which surprises you. Yet again. But that’s not what makes you snap your head toward him back. He’s controlling everything. And you’re too weak to change that. But… But this is something you’ll never want. You don’t know if you want revenge. Maybe. Maybe not. All you know is that you want a chance for a confrontation. You want to scream at Hoseok. Then above everything, you want Jungkook to stay away. He won’t rob you of your chance for salvation.

“No!” You gasp. “No Jungkook,” Finally, you manage to glare at him. “I’ll never forgive you if you lay a finger on one of them. I’ll hate you to my grave and I promise you, you’ll never see the day I’ll become yours.” You don’t say the part where you’ll never be his either way. Following your words a heavy silence falls. A deafening silence. Just the gentle sound of the heater filling the air. And Jungkook’s glare.

You expect him to get mad. Expect him to threaten you with something bad. Yet it seems, this day is full of surprises. He does nothing sort of that. Simply gets to his feet. Waste no time as he rounds the kitchen island and walks past you toward the doorway. Almost leaves you to be. That’s when you suddenly burst out another question. Or a request. You don’t know where it came from.

“I just want to meet them.” Your voice makes Jungkook halts in his track. A soft yet bitter chuckle escapes him.

“Not a fucking chance.” He informs you before leaving this time for real.

Of course. Who were you kidding?

………………….

You haven’t seen Jungkook all day. Mainly because you've been holed up inside your (his) room. Just after your little but not- so- civil chat in the morning, you stormed into your room. Have spent the entire day in bed. Just like you wanted. Morphing. Sulking. Reminiscing. Going through your memories, looking for signs and clues that you must’ve missed. Completely drowning in your misery.

And Jungkook hasn’t even poked his head in. Not even once, which is very unlike him. He never does that. Never allows you to be alone for more than five minutes unless it’s really necessary. Like when you are in the bathroom or he is. He would always breathe down your neck. Not giving you any chances to try anything funny. Or he just wants to be around you. Even though you don’t talk to him let alone entertain him.

Then there is the fact that he hasn’t been worried about your meals today. Sometimes, he acts like your father. Always making sure you eat well. Not today. You haven’t eaten anything since yesterday and there is no Jungkook to nag you about it.

You find that awfully weird. Odd. Even your insides churn. It’s nearing midnight now and the entire apartment is in eerie silence. You sit back on Jungkook’s bed, letting the dark grey silk sheets fall across your body.

When you first realized that Jungkook wasn't going to come and bother you, you were happy. Grateful. It was exactly what you wanted — a moment alone. You expected you’d feel better. At peace. Because you hate Jungkook’s ever- looming presence. This was the day you’ve been dreaming about ever since you woke up in this apartment next to Jungkook. The thing is, however, you feel neither. You feel worse to be honest. Feel anxious. So fucking restless. If you're being honest with yourself, all this time, you’ve been waiting for Jungkook to barge inside the room. You were expecting him. When he didn’t it had put you on edge. Now you can no longer just sit back and wait.

You remove the sheets as you place your trembling feet on the warm carpeted floor. This is truly maddening. How Jungkook is affecting you, even when he is not around. You don’t like this silence. It’s unsettling. You don’t want Jungkook, but at the same time you want him. At least you’ll know he’s not planning to kill you or something when you have eyes on him. Right? That’s why you feel like you’re losing your mind. That’s the only reason you step out of the room and walk toward the living room in silence. That’s exactly why a breath of relief escapes your lips when you spot the said man sprawled on the couch.

The TV is on. Muted. Luminous colors of the screen are flashing across Jungkook’s face. His eyes are deeply fixed on the screen. You can only see the side of his face. Chiseled jaw. Prominent nose. Glinting eyes. Pink pretty lips. His lip ring glistens in various colors. His hair has turned purple since the person on the screen is standing in a purple background. He is ethereal, isn’t he? Simply not human. Can’t be human. Oh, you hate him. Hate how good looking he is.

Jungkook turns his head slowly, obviously sensing your presence. Or he must’ve heard you approaching. His eyes meet yours. They are still not soft. Still angry. Still stiff. You stay that way for a long minute. Then you turn around. Fast. Making a beeline for the kitchen.

……………………….

Despite feeling very anxious and restless without your captor around, the other major reason that forced you out of the comfy bed sheets was hunger. It doesn’t matter how stubborn, rebellious, and alone you want to be, in the end, you’re just a human who needs fuel to function. An entire day without food isn’t serving you well. Your stomach is grumbling. And you feel weak.

You scan your eyes around the now familiar kitchen. Clean and tidy. Spotless. Jungkook is the tidiest person you’ve ever seen. Yet today it seems like no one has used the kitchen at all. It’s funny how you’ve never cooked anything in this kitchen. It was always Jungkook who cooked for you. Now, after all this time, it feels ridiculous to even think about making your own food. Besides, it's not as if you want to cook in this place anyway. It makes it oddly homey. When you start to cook in a place it means you are going to stay there for a long time. Not just a couple days like at a hotel. But in a place where you’d come back every evening. No. You don’t want that at all. You’ll never get used to living in this prison.

Your body, however, doesn’t care what you want or not. Another growl erupts from your tummy. It’s getting unbearable. Like you are starting to eat yourself from the inside out. Maybe you can eat cup noodles. That’s not similar to cooking, right? All you have to do is boil some water. You give yourself a tiny nod before turning toward the pantry where you know noodles are.

“Are you hungry?”

A loud scream leaves your throat as you turn back at light speed. Almost lose your balance at how startled you are. Jungkook just stands in the doorway, completely unphased at the fact that you lost your shit because of him. You clutch your chest with both your hands, scowling at the man in front of you. He and his damn sleazy movements.

“Want me to order something?” Instead of any apology for startling you, Jungkook fishes out his phone. “What do you want?” Asks again when he has the device on his hand. You take a minute, gaping at his face. Even the sound of that makes your mouth salivate. Yet you shake your head. You don’t want to look even weaker in his eyes. Someone who’s incapable of anything. How shameful that you have to seek him for every little thing.

“I’m not hung-” You start to refuse his offer just to get cut off when he suddenly closes the distance between you. Two long strides and your feet are touching.

“For fucks sake, (___), don’t fucking make me the bad guy.” He barks. “Don’t make me force things on you. I,” He pauses for a long breath. When he speaks next his voice drops an octave lower. “Really hate it when you’re freaking stupid to see things clearly. And I’ll hate it even more if I have to fucking knock some sense into you.” His eyes bore into yours without even blinking. You feel your heart skip a beat before starting to go mad. Even your stomach churns awfully. You wouldn’t have been able to hide the shaky breath you let out even if you tried to. Fear rises up in your throat in the form of bile, even when you haven’t had anything in your system. “Don’t make me do things that both of us will regret.” Jungkook adds lastly. Doesn’t step away from you. Just keeps his ground, clearly expecting you to answer. You don’t know what the answer he’s looking for. Yet you answer with another question. Your voice is quiet and meek.

“What are you going to do Jungkook? Hit me? Kill me?” You bite back the tremble in your voice with much struggle. Jungkook looks at you for a second like he’s surprised, then he shakes his head.

“You? Never. But I can certainly make everyone else in this world suffer. You don’t even have a single idea about what I'll do for you baby. Even for simple things. You refuse to eat? Lemme just make you want to eat.” He finally steps back. Scrolls through his phone and then turns it around to show you the screen. A picture. Photo. Of someone who’s dearly familiar to you. Hair dyed in silver and an earring on one ear. Smiling to someone hidden from the camera.

Park Jimin!

You gasp aloud. That picture looks new. Last time you saw him, he had black hair. Park Jimin is someone who’d dye his hair a new color every month but you haven’t seen him with silver hair before. You know it’s a new picture.

Did Jungkook take it?

Does he know Jimin as well?

Did someone else take the picture and send it to Jungkook?

Why is he showing you this now? Is he threatening you?

Your eyes dart between the screen and Jungkook’s face. Jungkook smiles softly. “You won’t want me to just make any of your loved ones hurt now, will you?” He locks the device. You watch as your friend’s image disappears. “Because, I will, pretty. I fucking will.” He pockets the device back again. You feel nauseous. There’s a sickening joy in Jungkook’s voice.

“Y-you- you wouldn’t.” You stare at him. That smile on his lips never even falters.

“Oh, but I will.”

“I told you, if-if you ever lay a finger on anyoneー”

“Do you think I’d just listen to you threaten me? Pretty…” Jungkook clicks his tongue in displeasure. “You are already here, aren’t you? You are already mine. You might not want to acknowledge it yet but you. Are. mine. And I know you’ll come to admit it sooner or later andー” He taps the pocket where he just put his phone. “Meanwhile, we can play it easy or hard.”

“But why- why Jimin? He never did anything wrong to you.” You hastily take a step forward. To be honest, you have no idea of what this man is capable of doing. Not all of it at least. He kidnapped you, yes. He’s sick in the head, yes. But that might not be all he has. He can be even more ruthless. He can be capable of murder even. You need to make sure that isn’t the case.

“But he did.” Jungkook smirks. “He fucking did. If I have to make him suffer, I have all the reasons to do so. Just because I haven’t done anything, that doesn’t mean I can’t, baby. The only reason why I haven’t done anything to anyone, yet,” He brings a hand up. Grabs a loose strand of your hair between his fingers. Plays with it. “is because you are too precious to me. I mean it when I said I don’t want to hurt you, Pretty. But don’t test my patience too much.” His eyes go from that stiffness to softer like a flicker of a switch. So does his daunting smirk. Instead, he smiles at you gently again as he pushes that strand of hair behind your ear. Gently. His fingers grazing over your ear and face ever so lightly. Then he drags those fingers over the side of your neck. And a shiver runs down your spine electrocuting your whole body. You tremble visibly, your breath tangling in your throat.

It’s fear, right? It’s just fear.

“Now, you're a big girl. It’s ridiculous that I have to threaten to take away your toys to make you eat.” Jungkook takes his hand back. Just as his touch disappears you feel insanely cold. Hollow. A longing stirs your insides.

It’s just the fear. You’re awfully scared of him. That’s it.

He just threatened you with your friends’ life after all. You don’t know what Jimin ever did to Jungkook. Jungkook sure does hate Hoseok because he is your ex. Then you know Jungkook hates him because he hurt you as well. Just like he hates Daebi despite her role in getting you in his hold. Then maybe… Could it be the same reason he hates Jimin? Can it be that Jimin knew too. He knew about Daebi and Hoseok. What if he knew about your kidnapping as well? What about Nina? Did they all know about what was going to happen to you and turn a blind eye?

You feel your heart clenches painfully at the thought. There’s a huge chance that it might be the case. Yet still, you don’t think any of their misery would bring you any satisfaction. No. Revenge is a strange word for you. All you want is a chance for a confrontation, which you know you might not have. Unless you work for it, of course. And after everything, you want all of them to be in a position where you can talk to them. So, you fear Jungkook without a doubt. Yes. This is all about that.

“I’m ordering Samgyeopsal.” Jungkook informs you, voice sharp.

You just nod.

…………………..

The midnight dinner had passed in utter silence where you watched a crappy late-night reality show. It was a very uncomfortable hour where you sat idly next to Jungkook, your mind screaming with unasked questions. You wanted to know. Wanted to ask. How did he know Jimin? Was it just like you thought? How did he know Daebi? When did they meet? Lots and lots of things. In the end, however, you asked nothing. Simply because you feared the answers. And after that hour, you decided it was enough. That it was time to crawl inside your room back again.

See now, while you spent an entire day starving yourself, you at least hoped to come up with a plan. A plan that is meticulous enough to free you from this shithole. But you managed nothing close to that. All you did was cry, being depressed, then anxious. Now, just as you close the door behind you and stand in the darkness, you know you’re about to do the same thing all over again. This time, however, you feel it ten times harder. New suspicions about your other friends’ participation in your misery has made it worse.

The lonely feeling freezes you to your marrow. The pain splits your heart in two. The restless feeling makes it hard for you to breathe. It all hits you like a freight train.

Oh, you shouldn’t have been this quick to return here. Maybe it wouldn’t have hurt an extra hour watching that crap show.

Fuck, it’s hard.

You actually can’t breathe.

You turn around to stare at the closed door. The room is in pitch darkness since you’ve not bothered to switch on the lights and the curtains are drawn. Still you can see the outlines of the closed barrier that isolates you in this room. You close your eyes for a second, letting the pain engulf you whole again.

Memories.

Memories of shared laughter and tears.

Moments spent together.

Drunken nights and awful jokes.

Friends. Lovers. Betrayal!

A tangled sob leaves your throat. You reopen your eyes, allowing tears to roll down your cheeks. The cruel reality of how alone and helpless you are once again registering in your mind. If what you think was true, if Jimin and Nina knew this from the beginning, then you’ve been alone all your life. No one has been on your side. Ever. You are all you have. No one has ever cared or will care about you. You bet that they’ve already forgotten about you. They probably have. You will never have someone to wipe down your tears when you cry. Offer you a shoulder to rest your head when you’re tired. You have no one. No one…

Except….

You don’t even wait a second to think what you’re doing or to consider the consequences. Simply can’t afford one more minute of this loneliness. Of this pain. You yank open the door and run out. Tears streaming down without a break. Heart violently pounding against your ribcage. Your hurried footsteps muffled against the marble floor.

No one has been on your side ever. You have no one to turn to. Except this one man, who’ll hold you tight when you cry. And all you want is that. Someone to tell you that it’s going to be okay. That nothing was your fault and they are there for you. You don’t care for the fact that the man you’re running into is another one who caused your demise. It’s fine. You just need comfort. A bandage to cover your wound. It’s fine that it’s not a permanent solution and you’ll regret ever doing this in the morning. You’ll worry about that later. For now, you need someone to be on your side.

So, you don’t stop until you barge into the living room again. You don’t stop until you’re met with the man you were looking for. Just about to leave the room himself. You only give him time to just turn around when you stand in front of him. Jungkook’s innocent- looking, doe eyes, which don’t suit a person like him, go wide at your unexpected sight. You disregard his surprise. Instead you wipe your tears away with both your palms. Drop your hands down. You have no idea what you wanted from him or from just barging in here.

“I- just- ca-can you- uh-” Hence your pathetic stuttering. Your hands clenched around your cozy shorts to gain a strength that you didn’t know you needed. But for your luck or not, you don’t have to elaborate any further. Jungkook’s eyes soften as you watch. A kind of hurt flashing across them before he closes the distance between you in a flash. And you find yourself crushed between his strong arms. One arm wraps around your waist, the other cradles the back of your head.

“Of course I will, Pretty. Of course I will…”

…………………

Whatever you expected when you ran to Jungkook, it certainly wasn’t this. Sharing the bed? Maybe. You fell asleep on his lap last night for the sake of fuck. Maybe you wanted to have someone to lie next to you, filling the empty side of the bed. But this isn’t just sharing a bed. The way one of his arms is curled under your head isn’t just sharing a bed. The way his other hand is thrown across your waist and holding your hand isn’t just sharing a bed. Nor is the firm press of your back against his broad chest or the tingling sensation of his breath against your neck.

But the problematic part of this situation isn’t just how he’s holding you close. The problem is that you're not completely opposed to it. You’re enjoying it to be honest. You blame it on the emptiness inside you. On the craving for a caring presence. Not an AI this time but a real person because the way Jungkook’s heart is beating is real. How his chest is heaving when he breathes is real. How his thumb is gently rubbing your palm is real. That’s the reason for you to like this.

Then why does your heart pound in your poor ribcage?

Why does your breath hitch with every rub of his thumb against your palm?

Why does your whole arm feel numb—in a good way?

Above everything else, why do you want him to keep doing it? No. That’s not the case after all. You want him to just do something more.

You close your eyes for the hundredth time, hoping you would actually be able to fall asleep this time. To act like your stomach isn’t doing weird turns. You fail. Miserably so. All you manage is a blink before you reopen your eyes when Jungkook pushes you back more into his body. His thumb keeps rubbing your palm.

It feels good. So damn good that even a moan nearly slips through your lips. You have to bite your bottom lip so hard not to let that happen. You can’t risk it now. Can’t let him know that he’s affecting you. Because you don’t want to get affected. No. You can’t. You are not feeling a fire travelling across your veins. Starting from the spot where he’s touching you. He’s touching your palm for God’s sake and you’re doing your best not to moan?

What is fucking wrong with you?

Jungkook sighs dreamily behind you, pressing his body more and more into you. He changes the pattern he is rubbing your palm. Instead of circles, he starts to rub back and forth, making you squeeze your thighs desperately.

No. No. No….

This can’t be happening. You are most definitely not getting wet. Not because of this psychopath. Not because of a simple touch.

“Why aren’t you sleeping, Pretty?” Jungkook suddenly questions. His voice is raspy and thick. Even his voice sends a tingle between your legs.

What the actual fuck?

“Not sleepy.” You answer him with your own hushed voice. Or is it hoarse too? Thick?

“Why not? It’s late.” Jungkook raises his head a bit. As if he wants a look at your face. His thumb is still playing with your palm. “This doesn’t help?” He questions as he lifts your hand up. “I’m trying to help you relax.” Explains though you don’t ask. Well, you don’t know ‘relax’ is the right word to use in this context. Jungkook doesn’t let you question it. He lifts your hand up and up then back, behind you and over your shoulder. “Gentle touches help people relax, you know,” He keeps explaining while you wait with bated breath. Clueless but also excited about what he is doing. Then you feel the cold touch of his nose nudging against your palm. “Doesn’t it work for you?” Gently questions. That’s all he does before his nose replaces his lips. He kisses your palm softly. Hesitantly. Carefully. As if you’d break if he presses a little hard.

He waits for a minute while keeping his lips on your palm. Then when he gets no reluctance from your frozen body, he does it again. Another kiss follows. Once then twice. Three times and four times. Slowly. Sensually. His lips brush over your palm like a feather. And you shiver. Eyes fluttering close at the heavenly feeling.

“Huh, Pretty? It doesn’t help?” Jungkook repeats his earlier question in between his soft kisses. You don’t know how to answer that. So you keep quiet, letting Jungkook kiss your hand. Over and over. And with every kiss it turns a bit tender. His lips linger on your palm a little more than before. As if he’s losing his mind and getting caught in the moment. As if he doesn’t know what he’s doing. “Damn it! Why’s your hands so soft?” A soft groan accompanies his words. Words that go straight to your lower belly, igniting a fire there.

And you fail to keep your reactions neutral. A heavy, shaky sigh escapes you even without your knowledge. Jungkook takes that as a good sign. His kisses grow more deliberate.But what truly breaks you is when you feel the tip of his tongue grazing over your hand. Gently and lightly. Circling across your skin, just like how he did with his thumb.

“Jungkook…” You mumble which comes out as a desperate moan. You swear that you don’t intend to do that. Jungkook, however, groans. Applies more pressure into his action. His other hand curls even more under your neck, dragging you insanely closer to him. Practically starts to make out with your palm, shifting between open mouthed kisses and licks. You feel your whole body go weak. Blood pumping across your veins extra fast. “Y-you- you can’t.” You weakly whimper once again, half turning toward him despite your words.

“Yeah?” Jungkook relents. Pushes your hand away from his mouth. You find it amazing how he’s breathless. Cold air replaces the warmth where his tongue had just been, making you already miss the warmth, the tingling sensation. “Then ask me to stop.” He pants. Gives you time to do as he says.

And isn’t that easy? Just ask him to stop. You know that he’d listen.

Ask him to stop.

All you do is whimper.

You can’t let this happen.

You press your palm into his mouth.

Fuck, you need to stop.

“Oh, Jungkook….” You finally moan aloud at the same time he kisses your palm again.

“You don’t want me to stop, Pretty?” Jungkook shifts his attention from your palm to your fingers. Wraps his lips around your thumb and starts suckling gently, almost making you cry. “Answer me, baby. You don’t want me to stop? Want me to keep going?” Even during your filthiest sex calls, Jungkook’s voice hadn’t sounded this thick with lust. It gets your head spinning. Rest of the world and everything else disappears from your mind.

You don’t know how you responded to him. If you said yes or just nodded. But in the next moment you find your back pressed against his chest once again. This time, however, instead of just keeping you close, Jungkook is rocking his hips against your plump ass. You can unmistakably feel the hardness that is being ground against your flesh, creating an insatiable desire inside you.

All you can manage to do is whimper. Stay still and let him grind against you. His cock rubbing against your ass firmly with every thrust of his hips. He stopped playing with your hands sometime ago, for much of your dismay. Not that you can complain about the change, however. This is better. Even though you know it shouldn’t feel great, you’re slowly slipping into a blissful numbness.

You would blame this on not having any actions in your life lately. True that with Jungkook- when you thought he was a mere AI- you brought yourself into mind shattering orgasms more than one time. That somehow doesn’t match the sensation you’re feeling now. That fire was nowhere near the wildfire rapidly spreading through your nerves right now.

Well, if Jungkook managed to make you cum hard just by his voice, why would you be surprised of him being able to get you drooling just with his cock grazing over your ass.

Of course, he knows what he’s doing. One hand splayed across your waist to keep you in place. Face hidden in your neck. Lips occasionally touching your skin. His soft grunts a beautiful melody in your ear. His hard cock a sin in your body.

This is wrong.

But you need more.

Otherwise you’ll explode from the pressure inside your tummy. You’ll die from neediness. It’s crazy how desperately your pussy has been clenching over nothing. Embarrassing how much you’ve soaked your panties.

“Jungkook…” You moan out his name once again. Jungkook doesn’t stop his firm grinding as he answers you.

“Yes, pretty?” He plants a kiss under your ear. “What is it?” Asks through clenched teeth.

You don’t know how to ask him what you want. It’s humiliating. You swore you hate him, didn’t you? You swore you will never be his. Technically, this is nothing like that. Just because you’re horny, it doesn’t mean you’ve entered a truce with this guy. Still you feel like crawling into a little hole at the prospect of being this needy for him. Being at the peak of begging for more.

“What do you want, baby?” Jungkook questions again. You don’t answer. Still not knowing how to phrase your words. Jungkook doesn’t have much patience, though. “Nothing?” He slows down his movements, making you nearly panic. You don’t want him to stop. No. “If you don’t ask, I can’t give it to you.” He stops rocking his hips against you altogether. “Do you want to go to sleep—”

“No!” This time you actually panic, turning your head around to look at him at light speed. “No, no, please..” Words leave your mouth before you can process it. Jungkook raises head again to take a proper look at you.

“No?” He arches a brow. You freeze, suddenly realizing that you had said that. But it’s out anyway and you really don’t want him to stop. It’s too late for that now. “Then what do you need, pretty? Use your words, huh?” As if to give you what you’d miss, he presses his hardness a little more into your ass. Or it is to show you how hard he is. Either way it forces the words out of your mouth that he, oh so badly needs.

“Y-you..” You manage breathlessly.

“Me?” Jungkook tilts his head. “You have me here, don’t you, pretty?” You nearly cry in frustration.

Why would he want to make you say it aloud?

“W-want you to to-touch me.” You stutter around again, growing impatient and more needy with every passing second. It’s funny how the day has turned into this. Haven’t you hated him with a passion until now? Well, you still hate him. Maybe even more because he has this much influence on you. To make you say things that you don’t want to say that easily. Of course, you hate him. But that hate drowns in a lake of desire. Deeper and deeper. Disappears somewhere in the murky depths as soon as Jungkook suddenly grabs one of your boobs, making you gasp aloud.

“Yeah? Like this?” He makes sure with his hand already starting to mold the soft flesh beneath his palms. You shudder, eyes fluttering close. You answer him in a gentle hum and for your pleasure Jungkook takes that as enough an answer. Just for a minute, however. Then in the next, he is questioning you again. “Is that all you need baby? Just this? Want me to touch your tits?” He begins his slow grinding back, massaging your breast with just the right pressure.

You’re almost drooling. Just with this. His hands and his cock grazing over your body through all the clothing. Pathetic. But you can’t care. Too horny for your own good. You would hate yourself at the way you shake your head. Not Jungkook though. The guy loves it judging by the way he kisses your cheek with appreciation.

“No? You need more? What do you need, pretty?”

You’re pushing back on his cock, not knowing exactly what’s happening. It sure feels like a dream when this time you open your mouth without much persuasion.

“To-touch me pro-properly… please… god, Jungkook…” You complete the rest of your sentence with pulling your t-shirt up. Initiating what you want.

And Jungkook laughs. Fucking laughs!

Rich sound of his laughter vibrates across your body. It’s sinister. Cruel. Taunting. He’s letting you know how pathetic you’re being and how it amuses him. You should feel embarrassed. Ashamed. And you do. Of course, you do. Your face reddened at the sound. A strong urge to hide your face somewhere getting to you. But with shame, you get that familiar stirring on your lower stomach.

Desire. Burn.

Burn for Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook knows how to play you. He had played you even before he got to lay a single finger on you. He played you like you were a guitar. And now he’s slowly dragging you into that same headspace.

Making you his little play thing.

Someone who’s completely lost their senses.

“Pathetic, princess. So fucking pathetic. You have no shame!” Jungkook grunts before giving into what you asked him to do. His hand snakes under your t-shirt, finding your bare breasts. “See? Have no shame at all. You came to bed with me, without wearing a bra?” Mocks. His voice is contemptuous. He instantly starts to mould, his thumb flicking over your nippels occasionally. Pays equal attention to both of your tits. Pinches your perky pebbles. “Such a slut!”

In your defense, you didn’t expect this to happen. You expected to go to sleep alone. It’s not fair to assume that. But who would care? Certainly not you because every demeaning word of him is making your body shudder. Your pussy aches. Your empty hole clenches around nothing. And all you want is that emptiness to go. Want that to change. Desperately want to be filled. Especially, since Jungkook is back to grinding.

“Oh, god… Oh, fuck!” You moan aloud, throwing all the remaining sanity and care into the wind.

“Yeah? Does this feel good, pretty?”

You nod violently.

“How good? Are you dripping already? Are you making a mess for me?”

You nod again, followed by another needy moan. Jungkook curses before he stops playing with your tits. You try to protest which just dies in your throat when he drags his hand down through your stomach. Down and down, and stops just below your waistband.

You wait patiently with a bated breath. Completely still despite your heavy breathing. It feels like your skin is burning where his fingers are drawing lewd patterns. But he doesn’t take it further. No matter how long you wait, the next step doesn’t come. Not even when you start to whimper. So, you decide you have no other option but to become even lower.

“Oh, please… Jungkook…” You beg, all the while spreading your legs as much as you can.

“Holy fuck!... You want me to touch you? Want me to touch your filthy cunt?” Jungkook squeezes you in his hold, finally starting to lose it.

“Yes, p-pl-please, yes. Touch me.”

“Touch you where?”

“M-my… fuck.. Jungkook please…” You trail off, burning with shame. How degrading it is to say that. You feel like words are turning into dust in your mouth. Jungkook, though, isn't letting you off the hook that easily.

“Touch you where you filthy whore?” He barks, practically crushing you into his body. You inhale a sharp breath in a fruitless attempt to find the courage. Despite everything, despite the shame, you want him to touch you.

“M-my c-cunt…” You manage to push the bitter words out of your mouth, pleasing Jungkook immensely that he doesn’t even waste a second. His hands go inside your cozy shorts within a beat of a heart. He cups your pussy without further ado. Then his middle finger is sliding along your slit, poking at your entrance and gathering up the wetness. It all happens so fast. The next thing you know is he’s relentlessly rubbing your clit. Occasionally shifts between slightly pressing at your hole. His hard cock still scouring against your ass. And you’re dangerously nearing that peak. Every flick against your clit makes your head spin.

Only if Jungkook allows it, though. He doesn’t. Each time you start to tense he slows down. Changes his rhythm. Then stops altogether, just to start the same thing all over again. Gets you literally drooling. Leaving only him and pleasure in your mind. Nothing else. Absolutely nothing that you don’t even realize when you start to cry for his cock.

“Please, please, please…”

“God damn it, pretty.. You need my cock?”

“Yes, yes, yes… Want you… please…”

“But I thought you didn’t want me to even touch you?”

“Bu-but I wa-want you to… n-now.”

Another laugh. “Do you even know how miserable you sound?” Jungkook pinches your clit, making your thighs shake. “But it’s okay baby, you’re being such a good girl for me. Maybe, you deserve my cock.” He rasps in your ear. You almost fall into a false allusion that he’s finally going to give it to you when he pushes the next words out. “But I’m sure, you said you hate me. You said you never will be mine. You fucking flinched away when I was just trying to touch your hand. Now you want my cock?” Flickering of his finger over your clit comes to an abrupt stop. Before you can even comprehend it, he pulls his hand out of your pants. “I don’t think you truly want it.”

It’s ridiculous the way you panicked. Undignified, how you grab his hand, not letting him take it away.

“No, no, please, no, Jungkook. I want you.. I promise.. I really need you.” Mortifying, when you open your mouth.

“You need me? Yeah?” Jungkook leans into you again, closing the short distance he created. Mumbles in your ear. “Then prove it, princess. Beg!”

This time it doesn’t take much more persuading or convincing for you to actually do it. Words start to flow out of your mouth like a broken damn. Even out of your control. Yet, no matter how much you plead and beg, all he gives you is more teasing. His hand back inside your pants and melting your brain and soaking your thighs. And just as he edges you for what must be the hundredth time you snap, falling into the lowest you can go.

“Oh, god pl-please.. Something… Gi-give me something Kook. At least the tip. I need just so-something…”

And with that you break Jungkook as well.

“Holy fuck! You little slut!” He curses aloud. But he finally relents. You don’t even get to comprehend what’s happening before he is yanking your pants down and doing the same to his as well. All you can do is inhale a shaky breath before you feel the tip of his hardened cock at your sloppy entrance.

Finally! Fucking finally!

You almost sigh in relief when he pushes inside you. Slowly. Agonizingly so. An inch by pleasurable inch he stretches your entrance. You moan lowly at the pleasure, waiting for him to keep going and bury himself deep inside you. Only for that to never come. He stops yet again. You turn your head around, catching his face properly for the first time this night. And the sight that treats you is nothing less than you expected.

Divine.

Godly.

Sin.

His entire face is flushed and eyes all pupils. Brows pulled together and eyes closed shut. Bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

He is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. Jeon Jungkook is impractical. Unreal. Maybe he is an illusion. Just as the thought crosses your head he opens his eyes, catching your gaze. And you clench around his tip tightly, completely unconsciously, eliciting a beautiful moan from his throat. He rewards you with a shallow thrust. Then another. Just with only his tip inside you and driving you crazy. You question him with your confused expression. Luckily for you he reads it.

“Why baby? You asked just for the tip… I’m only giving you what you asked for.” He smirks through his haze.

A whimper of frustration tangles in your throat. Yet you clench around him even harder. Every demeaning word from him is fueling your fire. That’s exactly what makes you clutch onto his hand tightly before pushing back on his half sheathed cock inside you. Changing the fact from half sheathed to fully sheathed. He slides inside you swiftly. Just one push and he’s safely buried inside you, knocking the wind out of your lungs.

You both stilled, reveling in the feeling. Just for a moment, however. Next moment, Jungkook is gripping your face, roughly, fingers digging into your cheeks painfully. He turns your face around and leans forward until the tips of your noses touch.

“You need to learn how to listen and be fucking patient, baby. You don’t want to be a good girl? You want to act like a needy slut? Can’t wait to get this pussy ruined?” He presses a barely there, feathery kiss to your lips. Stark contrasts the way he’s touching you and his filthy words. “Okay then, I’ll give that to you. I’ll fuck you until you beg me to stop.” He drawls. That’s the only warning you get before he drags his hips back and rams into you, making you scream his name. He does it again, again, and again. Lets your face go so he can hold your leg up. And as if you’ve not humiliated and embarrassed yourself enough, all it takes is just a few hard thrusts for your prolonged orgasm to crash over you.

“God, fuck yes, sult! Ah fuck, squeeze my cock…” Jungkook hides his face in your neck, inhaling your scent , getting drunk on you. “Fuck, pretty you feel even better than I imagined.” Growls as his hips keep thrusting forward without a mercy. Not even slowing down to let you catch your lost breath. “You have—” He gasps in between his harsh thrusts. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to have you, pretty…” His teeth sink into the sensitive skin of your neck, arousing you more and more. “I dreamt of this fucking day… you have no fucking idea how much this means to me…” He drags his hand across your body, from your breasts to your stomach. “God damn it, princess…. You know what? I need more… c’mon, on your back—” He withdraws from you fast, making you flinch at the sensitivity. “And I need you naked.”

He doesn’t give you much time to comply with his commands. As soon as he pulls his cock out, he’s pushing you into your back. Even before you can register the movement your remaining clothes are practically ripped away from your body, his clothes following closely.

See now, Jungkook has ridden you into your lowest level already. Has made you say things you wouldn't have said in any other occasions. Had made you beg and plead. But now, as you are laid beneath him, looking at him with your glossy eyes, squirming and impatient, legs already spread without anybody forcing you to do so, it feels worse. It’s one thing if he’s forcing this on you. Leaving you without any options. But to be the one who’s asking for it.

It makes your stomach churn. But the case is, even that doesn’t stop you from humping the air waiting for him to get back inside you.

What’s wrong with you!

It’s all Jungkook’s fault.

You hate him. You hate everything about him. You swear you do. Still, you exhale softly as your hands move across his chiseled abs and chest the moment he gets rid of his t-shirt. Still, you curl your hands around his neck and press your lips to his, turning it into a messy kiss of tongue and saliva without an ounce of hesitance. Still, you keep him as close to you as possible when he pushes inside you again with a powerful, breathtaking thrust. Still, you beg him for more when he starts picking up his pace again.

“H-harder please…”

“More Jungkook…”

“Please don’t stop… keep going…”

You keep screaming.

“I won’t baby. I’ll not fucking stop. Take this cock, yeah? Like that… yes… fuck!”

He keeps promising.

And he keeps his promise. He doesn’t stop. He fucks orgrasm out of orgasm from you.

He makes love to you while hovering over your shaking figure, kissing and biting your lips, mumbling sweet nothings in your ear.

He fucks you while holding your writsts above your head and scattering purple marks across your chest and neck.

He worships you by kissing every inch of skin he can reach.

So does he pound you with your legs pushed over his shoulders.

You have no idea how much time has passed or how many times you actually came. Only thing you’re aware of is the pleasure and Jungkook as now he’s slams into you from behind. Your head pressed into the pillow. He’s clutching both of your hands behind you, taking extra leverage. And all you can do is drool all over you and bite onto the soft pillow. You’re getting tired now. But despite all that, you want Jungkook to cum as well.

That shouldn’t be your concern at all. At least you can turn this whole thing about you. You are receiving pleasure. You are using him. Not the other way around. That’s not what’s happening, however. You’re battling your sensitivity, and exhaustion because you want him to cum. Judging by the way his thrusts are turning sloppy and his ragged breaths you know that’s about to happen. Even the thought is making your tummy clench. Despite how wearried out you are, you feel like about to reach another orgasm, just at the thought.

Then just as the thought passes, Jungkook’s voice breaks your stupor.

“Gonna cum, pretty. Gonna cum inside you, yeah? Fucking make you mine…”

You think you just die at the spot. It’s not possible to feel more aroused. But you do. Even a cry leaves your parched throat.

“Please… yes…” You try in vain to turn your head and look at his divine face but he steals your moment when his hand leaves yours just to grab your hair. You let out a surprised squeal when you’re being yanked back. Your back collides with his chest. His hand immediately snakes around your throat. Squeezes. Not enough to hurt you but enough to cut your air flow.

“You want that, pretty? Want me to cum inside you?” Jungkook growls, his thrusts turning sloppy and sloppier.

You nod, feeling your head getting dizzy. It’s his hold on your neck that's keeping you upright. Your legs are buckling under your weight.

“Say it aloud, princess. Say you want me to cum inside you. Fucking beg for my cum.” Jungkook presses his fingers around your throat a little more, like an unspoken threat.

“P-please c-cum inside me… Pl-please…”

“Again.”

“Oh god, please… pl-please… fill me up, Jungkook. W-ant your cum. I need your cum…” You choke out, struggling to breathe.

“Again, whore. Beg like you really want it. That’s notー” A powerful, harsh thrust. And his grip tightens a little more. “Enough.”

“Please… Jungkook… Want to be so full of your cum. I- Iー” Fortunately for you, those next words do the trick. Just as the words leave your mouth Jungkook stills, his cock twitching inside you. You feel the warmth engulf your insides. Thick ropes of cum painting your walls and putting you into a delirious state. His grip on your throat loosens.

You stay that way, pressed into each other for another long second before Jungkook lowers both of you into the mattress. A deep sigh of satisfaction which lets out by you mixes into the heavy breathing of Jungkook.

You feel light. As if you’ve put all your weight down. You feel like there’s nothing wrong in your life. Even the pain has dissipated somewhere. And you close your eyes into a pure bliss of silence. No pressure, no pain, no problem there to bother you anymore.

……………………………

You can’t believe you did that!

You scrub your chest hard.

How could you?

You scrub your stomach even harder.

How did you do that?

You feel sick. Nauseous.

It was with an unpleasantly twisting stomach that you ran into the bathroom a few minutes ago. Just after you woke up, next to Jungkook- the very same man who dragged you across hell. Then to make matters worse, you were tangled up with himー comfortably.

Comfortably!

And naked!

You sprang out of bed, even not caring for the fact that you might wake Jungkook up. Nor did you wait to see if that was the case. You’ve wanted to throw up. You’ve felt like that but no matter how long you’ve waited kneeling in front of the toilet, nothing came out. So, you’ve opted for a shower. Which is what you’re doing now.

Tears uncontrollably flooding through your eyes. Muffled sobs escaping past your lips. Steaming hot water cascading across your body.

You have no idea how long it’s been since you entered the shower box. Maybe it’s just a few minutes or maybe it’s been hours. And you’ve been scrubbing your body like crazy ever sinceー to no avail. It doesn’t matter how hard and long you rub your skin, you feel like it’s not going away. The imprints of his calloused hands. Imprints of his soft lips and the coldness of that damn lip ring. The wetness of his hot tongue and the tingle of his breath. Then the fullness you’ve felt when he was inside you.

You feel like he's still inside you. You can still feel the harsh thrusts. Can feel his skin slapping against yours.

How did you let yourself do that?

Now, you can’t get rid of him.

You put extra pressure on your skin, scrubbing even harder. You lather on more and more shower gel, then go back to scrub. At this rate, you might end up actually hurting yourself, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You need him gone.

You bring your hand down between your thighs, starting to scrub your inner thighs. This is the part you’ve paid the most attention to. You woke up with his cum dried on your thighs. Another, louder sob erupts as you try to get rid of the unseen evidence of the previous night. You wish you could wash your memory and soul as well. Wipe off everything. You want the previous night to be一

The sound of the bathroom door banging against the wall makes you jump on your spot. Yet you don’t get to let out much of a reaction before Jungkook barges inside the shower box. He wastes no time as he roughly snatches the scrubbing towel you’ve been using to scrub your body. You flinch and stumble a step back as Jungkook throws the towel away, blindly.

“Fucking stop that!” He yells as he closes the distance between you, forcing you to take a few more shaky yet hurried steps back and cover your head with both your hands. You don’t even care for the fact that you’re stark naked. In all your time with him, you’ve never heard him raise his voice like this. “Fucking stop you little…” This time he grits through his clenched teeth. You cower behind your hands even more, which Jungkook finds to be more irritating. He yanks your hands away. Holds them apart and gives you a rough shake. “Don’t be a fucking bitch, (___).” He pulls you forward.

All you manage is a tremble and a whimper.

You’ve seen Jungkook mad. Or not. You’ve thought you’ve seen him mad. Him going berserk over the phone was nothing similar to this. Him raising his voice across a phone was nothing like seeing his face right now. He looks like a beast, almost inhuman. All of his beautiful features masked with pure fury. Eyes wild and bloodshot, jaw slack. A vein throbs at his temple.

Jungkook looks crazy.

Jungkook looks capable of murdering.

Jungkook, the man who treated you oh so softly despite being a monster, looks like he’s about to snap you in half.

“You said you wanted it” He shakes you again, this time even harder, pulling out more and more whimpers and cries. You find yourself even incapable of replying to him. Your heart pounding in your throat. Your vision dims.

Maybe this is how you’ll die. He’ll strangle you to the death.

“You asked me to touch you, (___).” Jungkook’s voice lowered an octave this time. “You asked me to fuck you. You said you wanted it. D-don’t一” His voice cracks a bit and you think a flash of hurt breaks the fury in his eyes. And something inside you turns. Blinding fear subsides a little. He heaves a heavy sigh before speaking again. “Don’t act like I forced that on you.” He chokes out. The feeling inside you intensifies. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears. Your head throbs with the rhythm. You gather courage to peer into his eyes. That beast is there but you see the pain. “Don’t be aー” He starts again.

You don’t know what’s gotten into you. Maybe it’s fear. You wanted to distract him. Partially. You absolutely do not wish to die here. But then there was a guilt. Regret. A hurt that stirs your insides. Whatever the reason could be, you surprise yourself when you lunge forward, silencing Jungkook’s words when you press your lips to him. Initially, it’s just a press of the lips where you both do nothing, but then he pushes you back at the same time he starts kissing you desperately, madly, furiously. You return it to the best.

Your back hits the cold wall behind you. Jungkook kisses you with the same fervor for a few more intense minutes before he pulls away. That’s only when you realize that the shower is still running. That Jungkook is half naked as well and is only wearing his boxers. That he’s getting drenched.

You peer at his face for a moment. The way the fury is still there but now laced with lust. You watch the way the droplets slid over his face. Over his chiseled cheekbones. Over his pink lips and the damn lip ring. A shudder ripple through you before you capture his bottom lip between your teeth, bite gently, soon falling into another kiss. Jungkook moans in appreciation. His hands leave yours so he can skim across your curves instead. Your back, waist, ass, stops under your thighs. Then in one swift moment he picks you up from the floor. You wrap your legs around his waist on instincts.

Jungkook is the one who pulls away again. This time he does it with a harsh bite on your lower lip. Harsh enough that you mewl in pain before he sucks on the spot and soothes the sting. He lets your lip go before resting his forehead against you. Panting.

“You wanted to get rid of me?” He questions, with that dangerous tilt in his voice, sharing one breath with you. You don’t answer him. Just try to fill your lungs with enough oxygen. “You wanted to escape me?” He repeats to which he doesn’t get an answer again. He presses another kiss to your lips, then drags those kisses toward your jaw. From there to your neck. Biting and sucking gently. Adding more marks into your already bruised skin. Mumbles his next words into your throat. “Guess what baby? You’ll never escape me.” With that he raises his face back to peer into your eyes. “I’ll fucking taint your memmories with me,” he growls. “I’ll fucking live inside your head, I’ll fucking burn myself into you. You. Are. Never. Going to escape me.”

You tremble once again. Partially from a fire inside your stomach but partially from an unexplainable fear. Jungkook holds you with one arm for a bit as he shuffles with his boxers, pushing them down. Even the prospect makes your breath hitch and pussy clench. He holds you in his hold securely. “You are mine, baby.” He plunges inside you, ripping out a cry from you at the unexpectedness of his movements. Luckily you are already wet enough that he slides in easily. He stops once he’s buried to the hilt inside you. “You’ll be mine.” Gives you an experimental thrust. Your head falls back, hitting the tile and you clench around him violently. “And don’t try to deny that because trust me, princess, I’m gonna make you mine one way or another. I’ll rip your heart out of you and keep it inside a box if that’s what it takes. Soー” A harsh thrust interrupts his threat. “It’s time you should accept that you’re meant to be mine, pretty.” He picks up his speed and starts pounding into you. Calling you his over and over again.

“Mine. Mine. Mine…”

………………………..

Jungkook never wanted to do something that you wouldn’t like. Never wanted to scare you. Even if he had, unintentionally, a few times. But the thing is, you’re not entirely blameless. You are a little stubborn witch in disguise. A brat. How hard it has been for him to keep you at bay.

Jungkook found himself questioning often, why you were so reluctant to accept him. Be his. Understand that you two were always meant to be together. That you’ve always been tied to him with a red string. But then he believed you would come to accept that one day. He knew you would actually return his feelings. Give him what he’s been craving so badly for years.

Years!

It has taken more time than he had expected, however. From the day he got a hold of you again through his meticulous plan to the day he finally brought you into this place that was supposed to be your safe haven. It has taken longer to make you see things even if it’s not fully yet.

But god, the trouble he had to go through!

First, it was making sure you wouldn’t do something that’s stupid and hurt yourself. Then there was the problem of controlling himself. It was as if holding his breath forever. You were a walking, talking ball of temptation. Jungkook had the hardest time having you around, in your cute shorts and comfy t-shirts which he picked out for you. You were the most adorable yet the hottest thing he’s ever seen. He’s been watching you from afar for so long. Can anyone blame him for nearly losing it when he finally had you in a close proximity. Close enough he could touch you, hold you, and hear you.

The temptation was like a demon on his shoulder. He found himself in moments where he was a hair’s breadth away from kissing you until you were breathless. Bending you over and fucking the senses into you. But, thanks to all the high spirits above, he managed to control the urges. Because, in the end, Jungkook never wanted to do something that you didn’t want him to.

Not because it was hard. It was easy in fact. But Jungkook always wanted you to want him. You never wanted him. Not back in your college years. Not even when you were chatting with him. True, you texted him every and each day but you truly didn’t know who he was now, did you?

Then, suddenly all of his hard work paid off that way.

Suddenly, you were seeking him. You were asking for him. You were willingly being with him.

Just like now.

It’s been a few days since your first night. Since Jungkook finally bent your stubborn will enough to see him. See his love. Yet still, Jungkook can’t help but gasp quietly in surprise when you straddle his lap, emerging out of nowhere. He can’t help but feel like pinching him to make sure he isn’t dreaming.

You get comfortable in his lap. He is sitting on his gaming chair, not particularly playing games but he’s stressing over this one client. Some people are just morons who can’t understand simple things. Jungkook had leaked a very important piece of information to the public on this said client's request. It was the deal they made and the fucker should not be contacting Jungkook again. But here he is, asking for another deal. This time to revise what he already did. See now, Jungkook might be very good at his job. Sneaking into any database and leaking anything for the right amount of money. The thing is, however, he isn’t God and therefore the power of undoing something isn’t on his hand. Life, unfortunately, has no control plus z. His idiot of a client isn’t understanding that.

And Jungkook was at the verge of finding the man and choking him to death himself when you appeared, now hiding your face in his neck. You plant a soft kiss on his neck making him shudder. A moan almost slips past his lips. He aligns his neck to give you more access. You haven’t said much since you straddled his lap, your legs placed either side of him. You pick up on his cue and strat peppering soft kisses over and over. Jungkook unconsciously wraps an arm around your body.

“What are you doing, baby?” He questions as you move toward his throat.

“You seemed tense.” You answer him, softly.

Fuck!

Jungkook finds this to be a huge victory. Despite all the time he had you lying beneath him and moaning his name, you mostly didn’t talk with him. And to think you care about him.

Did he die?

Is this heaven?

“Yeah? And you want to help me.” He starts rubbing your back soothingly. You nod into his throat. “Fuck!” Jungkook curses at the sensation of your lips on him and your admission. “God, pretty, you gonna kill me,” he gives a gentle smack on your perfect ass, marveling at the way you whimper in return. “What do you want to do, baby? How are you gonna help me?”

You pull away from worshipping his neck at his words, facing him and peering at his eyes with your glinting eyes. A little bit hooded and glossy. You exhale a shaky breath. “I wanna- I- uh- can I suck you off, please?” Whisper oh so softly that Jungkook almost doesn’t hear you. He does somehow and the way his heart flutters must be risky to his health. Maybe he’s about to have a heart attack.

He never wants anything more. This. You are on his hold and begging to please him. Jungkook has finally won. The flutter in his heart soon travels south creating a stir in his lower stomach and groin. He was becoming hard slowly since the moment you sat on his lap but now at your words, he goes rock hard in a blink.

“Fuck! God, yes… You don’t have to ask, pretty. You get whatever you want.” He kisses your lips softly. “You want to suck daddy’s cock?” Asks against your mouth, making you tremble. You nod hurriedly. If he’s to push his hand inside your pants, he knows he’d find you already dripping wet. See, it is fate. You’re even this compatible in bed. He knows which button to play to get you high without any drugs. And you know which strings to pull to get him drunk without alcohol. “Go on then, on your knees, princess.” He commands, flipping that switch inside his brain to become the man you want him to be. You instantly start to shuffle down when he stops you once again. “Get rid of the clothes first, want you naked, kneeling in front of me and choking on my cock.”

You comply with him without a second request. Don’t even wait until Jungkook pushes down his sweats completely before you hungrily wrap your hand around his shaft and lips around his tip, pushing him into a blissful haze. From there it’s just a mess of drool, tears, and the sound of gagging. You don’t disappoint him the slightest. You prove him right again and again. With your tongue swirling around his tip. With him hitting the back of your throat. You prove that you’re just where you should be. And Jungkook’s head is spinning. He’s sure that he’s going to explode. Yet within few minutes of fucking your throat, he had to drag you into his lap again.

This time, however, your back facing him, your legs spread widely, and his cock buried inside you. Jungkook would’ve been more than happy to make you swallow his cum but he couldn't help but being a bit greedy and wanting the warm confines of your pussy. You clench around him every time his middle finger garzes over your clit and like clockwork, Jungkook feels his cock twitching.

“You feel so good, slut. So fucking good… You love daddy’s cock?” He asks in your ear. You moan out an inaudible ‘yes’. Jungkook rewards you with a slow thrust. You look so blissful. So lost in him. So fucked up. Makes him want to see and try how much he can push you. How farther you’ll bend for him. “You look pretty, baby, so beautiful,” He kisses your shoulder. “Would you like to see how beautiful you are?” He asks to which he doesn’t get an answer in return. He doesn’t mind that, simply knows you’re so far gone to be able to perform coherent thoughts let alone words. “Would you like to record this baby? So, we can watch it again, andー” Rest of his words die on his tongue when you squeeze his length so hard. “Holy fuck! You like that? You want that?” You answer him with another nod but this time he wants your words. “Words baby…”

“Yes. Yes Jungkook… I…”

That’s enough for him. He drags the chair forward keeping you on him safely, fumbling with his phone with one hand. He places it on the desk, propped against his monitor, front cam opened, and facing you both. Capturing a beautiful view of you filled with him. And he hits the record button. Pulls the chair back to adjust into the best position.

“There you go, slut. C’mon now, ride me!”

…………………………….

You are lying on your side, curled up on the couch and back pressed against Jungkook. His arms are wrapped around you protectively. Titanic is playing on the TV and you’re doing your best to pay attention with Jungkook’s mindless nibbling on your ear.

Lately, you’ve grown accustomed to being close and intimate with him even when sex isn’t on the table. You’ve learnt to accept all the pampering, cuddles, and innocent kisses. You’re not sure when exactly that happened.

First, it was all about sex. After the time he fucked you in the shower and swore that you’ll never escape him, you promised yourself that you’ll never allow him another chance to even lay a finger on you. That was going well until he sneaked into the bed that night. Each and every time you swore that it was going to be the last just to fail miserably. You couldn’t bring yourself to say no, every time his lips pressed against yours, his hands roamed across your body, his breathy voice whispered against your ears. Jungkook had it all easy and one day you’ve decided to let it happen without any resistance from your mind. Because, in the end, your body was going to betray you anyway.

Ever since, your life has been one haze of pleasure. There was no space for pain. Even the memories of your life before thisーthe life full of misery and bitchy people has faded into the past. Jungkook has been keeping you busy all the time. Busy enough that nothing could disturb your blissful peace.

Through endless sex and mind shattering orgasms, time has slipped through your fingers like a passing breeze. You think there is no space in this entire apartment where Jungkook hasn’t had you in. Kitchen. Couch. Balcony. Pressed against a window. Even on top of the washer. And every way he can. Tied up to his bed post. Blindfolded. Even had made you ride his shoe. Had made you masturbate while he watched and recorded. Had you plugged in with his cum inside. Every kind of kink he can think of.

You have started to lose sense of the time. Every day feels the same. You’ve fallen into the same routine. And despite all the pleasure, you’re growing tired of it. Maybe you need something new to focus on.

“Jungkook?” You call out softly. He stops nibbling on your ear immediately and pays attention to you.

“Yes, pretty?”

“Can you- uh- buy me a book maybe… please, I’m getting kinda bored…”

A soft gasp treats you, forcing you to turn around and look at him in confusion. He’s regarding you with a wide grin. You raise a brow in question.

“Of course, I can, baby. I can buy you anything you want. You don’t have to ask like that. Tell me what you want, and I’ll get it for you right away.” A gentle kiss to your cheek. “So, a book, huh? You’re not a reader?” He teases.

You almost open your mouth to question how he would know before it hits you. He knows. He knows every damn thing. What’s your favorite food to, now your favorite position. Then there is you, knowing nothing except his name. You turn around completely, facing him properly.

“I am not but I can start reading.” You tilt your head up to peer at his eyes. He opens his mouth to reply but you beat him into it. “How come you have so much money?” You question without letting yourself weigh the consequences of questioning. Jungkook’s face falls.

“I don’t have a lot of money.” He answers gently.

“You do,” you gesture around the lavish apartment. “This apartment is the most luxurious place I’ve ever been to. And,” you clutch his shirt. “It’s like you’re never stepping outside this house. You’re earning all this money by working from home? What kind of job pays so much?”

Jungkook sighs. “I’m good at developing. Apps and stuff,” He looks carefully at you, as though he’s expecting a harsh reaction from you. You almost do before you catch yourself in time. It’s all past anyway. “I-uh- let’s say I work in I.T, yeah?” That’s the clue for you to let the topic go.

“Where’s your family?” So you change it.

“I don’t have one.” He answers that more easily than the previous one.

“Oh! You’re orphー”

“They’re both alive but I refuse to have any contact with them. They’ve made my life a living hell.”

“Sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” You apologize quickly. A heaviness engulfing your chest at his words. Jungkook chuckles and brushes stray hair away from your face.

“It’s fine, pretty. Why all the questions, though?”

“Just because. I just realized I don’t know much about you.”

“Yeah? Why do you want to know about me?”

“I- I don’t know. I just want to know.” You shrug nonchalantly. Yet as you watch, Jungkook’s face lights up. Eyes glinting and lips spreading into a wide grin. Wide enough that he has to bite down on his lip to contain it. In a matter of seconds, he turns into a boy who's ten years younger than him. And you think you see a faint redness in his cheeks as well.

…………………………..

Jungkook knows that you have no idea how much it means to him to know you’re getting closer and closer every day. First sex, then all the shared casual moments, and you were interested in knowing him. And then you asked him for something?

Isn’t that what lovers do?

Aren’t you acting like a cute girlfriend?

Oh, the fluttering of his heart and stomach you’re causing. Jungkook doesn't think he’s been happier than this in his entire life. He’s riding a high just by watching how shocked and excited you are kneeling in front of the books he brought for you.

“What the hell, Jungkook?” You look up at him, mouth hanging open and eyes wide.

“You asked for books.” He gestures at the box before you.

“No…” you groan. “I asked for a book. Not for a whole damn library?” Start to rummage through the box, pulling out a book. “What am I gonna do with so many books, Jungkook?”

“Read them.” Jungkook kneels beside you, stealing a kiss into your hair while he does.

“I’m a slow reader, I’ll fucking die before I ever finish reading these.” You sigh exasperatedly, being a little dramatic. To be honest, it’s not even that many.

“Hey, it’s okay, pretty. I told you I’m gonna buy you anything. It’s fine if you can’t read them all or you start to get bored at it. Find a new hobby and tell me what you want.” He takes your hand in his. Kisses your soft hands delicately. You look at him with sparkling eyes.

Fuck!

You’re turning to your normal self slowly. You’re getting your color back. Putting on weight. You smile more and talk to him more. Few more days and you’ll be the happiest you’ve ever been.

See, Jungkook knew exactly what you needed. He was right all along.

Just a few more days and he’ll be able to let his guard down. Stop watching your every move like a hawk. Rescheduling and canceling his plans because he can’t leave you alone in here. He managed a good enough security system including cameras but he’ll never know. He had to keep a close eye—for now. But soon you’ll never think about leaving him.

Because he can see the way you slowly understand that you belong to him.

“You’re crazy.” You grumble as you get to your feet. Jungkook follows your actions. You take a step toward him, and bide your time for a minute before standing on your tiptoes and kiss him. Hard and deep.

“Whoa is that a thank you?” He pants once you pull away.

You nod. “There’s more.” Say as you throw your arms around his neck and jump. He catches you up by your thighs with the practice ease.

“Yeah? Another video?”

“Yes, please…”

………………………….

You stay still, unsure of what to do as Jungkook gently cups your face in his hands.

“Are you sure you're going to be okay?” He asks for what must be the millionth time. You nod again, trying to appear confident and nonchalant. But the thing is, you’re nervous. Every nerve ending in your body is ablaze.

Jeon Jungkook is about to leave you alone in this house for the first time. Something about an unavoidable meeting with a client.

You don’t know if he’s ever done it without your knowledge before. Maybe he had. But at this moment, he’s doing it with your full acknowledgement. He’s stopped locking you in that damn room every time. Mainly because you’ve been attached to him by the hip lately. You’ve started sharing a bed and a shower. He had no reason to be worried about you trying anything funny, anymore. This, however, is his first time giving you this kind of freedom. And you’re unsure what to do with it.

“Pretty?” Jungkook furrows his eyebrows in concern.

You clear your throat quickly. “I can Jungkook, I’m a grown woman.” State as you free your face from his hold. You both know that he isn’t referring to your capabilities of staying home alone. You both know he’s asking if you’d not betray his trust. That you’ll not try something that would make both of you regret.

He smiles softly at your admission. “Well then, I won’t be more than an hour.” He finally takes a step away. You return his smile, staying rooted in your place. He takes another and another, walking backward. Just as he’s about to turn around, you snap out of your stupor. You rush forward, five quick steps, and press a kiss to his lips.

Creases between Jungkook’s brows finally ease up as you pull away.

“Be quick.” You mumble, turning him around and you give him a gentle push forward. This time he doesn’t stop you. You walk with him to the front door, wait till he walks out and disappears before releasing a shaky breath.

For the first time, you’re completely alone here.

………………………..

You don’t know what you should do.

All these times, you’ve never even thought about an escape. Jungkook has kept you busy. Busy enough that you’ve forgotten you’re a prisoner here. That he’s your captor. Not someone who you can trust or your lover. But the thing is, you don’t know what to do?

Do you try to run away? To where? To your old house? To the police station?

Then what? Do you still want to confront Hoseok? Do you still want to meet your best friend? Yes, probably. Maybe…

But, do you have the courage to escape?

You don’t even know what kind of security he has. In your first few days you were so keen to know every minuscule detail about this place, planning your grand escape. Now you know nothing.

You stand up from the couch after staring into the empty black screen of the TV for the past twenty minutes. Nothing is going to happen by wasting your time. You make your way slowly to Jungkook’s guest room where he has kept his computer, without any purpose. You don’t know what you’re doing.

It’s just that you’re too restless to stay put. There’s a clock ticking and if you want to do something, you need to be fast about it. No, there’s no ifs, you should do something. This is your chance.

But the problem is that you don’t really feel like doing anything.

An inaudible groan of frustration leaves your throat. This can’t be happening? You can’t be serious. After everything, after the hell he put you through, you can’t simply want to stay with him.

Sex was good, sure. He was treating you well, sure. Still, he’s the same person who guided you into a trap. You’ve been stuck in that trap for a while now.

Yet even the thought of escaping. Running away from Jungkook gives you another level of fear. As if the safe bubble you’ve been living in is about to burst. It’s scary. To think that you’ll be back in the world, wandering around. Facing Daebi and Hoseok who have a fair share in your misfortune. Maybe others do too. Maybe they don’t want you back in their life at all. Jungkook does, though. Your parents must’ve accepted that you were long gone and moved on. There is no one out there who is waiting for you. Jungkook is here for you.

But is this the life you want?

What about walking among people on busy nights? You didn’t love your job but you loved earning your own money. What about living your life of your own accord and not having to rely on someone else? What about travelling the world? What about late night clubbing? Meeting new people? Worrying about buying new expensive clothes? What about life?

You can’t live your whole life this way. Stuck in an apartment while your entire world revolves around one man. You don’t want it to be like that. It’s not like you’ve fallen in love with him anyway. Right? Of course, not. You’re not a victim of Stockholm syndrome.

No. No. No…

You have to do something!

You take a few rushed steps toward Jungkook’s working table, without knowing what you’re actually doing. Maybe you should just risk it and try to open the front door. Or maybe you can turn on his computer and send a message- not to Daebi or any of your friends- but maybe to someone else. Police. Or anyone you could reach. You can check the drawers for a second phone. You couldー

“Fuck!” A loud curse leaves your mouth as an unexpected pain erupts from your left foot. You’ve hit it on the leg of the table. You come to an abrupt halt, mewling in pain, and bend down to rub your foot and ease the pain. You stay in that position and rub your poor toes for another long second before finally straightening up, ready to continue your aimless mission. Only to mewl again when the top of your head hits something. Luckily for you, it was just a pile of books that dropped down to the floor at the impact, with a loud thud.

“For fucks sake!” Irritation bubbles inside you. You bring your hand up to rub your head this time, eyeing the fallen pile of books. You’ve no time to reorganize it. You already wasted enough time. That’s what you almost do.

Almost, though.

Just before you turn around again, your heart beating in your throat, you notice the photo on the floor. Probably was inside a book and slipped out when they dropped down. You would’ve ignored it if it wasn’t for the person in the photo. You can mistake anyone else for someone else. But yourself?

A sharp inhale fills your lungs to the brim before you let that breath out.

It’s you who’s in the photo. Undoubtedly and unmistakably. So what? It’s not that much of a surprise to Jungkook to have a photo of you when you know he’s been stalking you. But what gets you frozen in mid motion is the fact that the you in the photo was from ages ago.

College?

You kneel before the scattered books and papers, feeling your legs buckle. Something uneasy gathers and swirls inside you, twisting your guts unpleasantly. You know this feeling well. You’ve been getting such kind of feelings all of your damned life and everytime you weren’t wrong to suspect something bad. Because every time you felt this way, something bad happened.

You pick up the photo with trembling hands to take a closer look. You might be mistaken about the time frame.

A young, carefree girl smiled back at you. You’re not mistaken. No. Definitely not. This photo was taken years ago. This photo was from another world. A world you’ve left behind and forgotten for the good.

It’s from your college days!

You feel your head start to spin. Memories of blood plague your mind. Screams of agony echo inside your skull. Touch of warm hands tingles your skin. Wetness of a sweet pair of lips brushed across your lips.

You close your eyes to shake away the unwanted memories. You can’t let this happen now. No. Yet all you can see is the blurred lights and silhouette of people. All you can smell is the cigarettes and alcohol.

The cursed night!

This- Jungkook and his stupid app, and his kidnapping- wasn’t the first time you’ve been through hell. You’ve been through worse back then. But after so much effort- including countless therapy, changing universities, starting your degree all over, moving into a different city and years of pain and nightmares, you left that life behind. You were living a normal, good life until Hoseok broke up with you.

Now, a single image is bringing all the buried memories up. The things you don’t want to remember. You swallow down a sob, forcing yourself to pull it together.

It’s going to be fine…

You reopen your eyes and stare at the photo again. Fighting, battling. Trying hard not to break down on the spot.

You can do this…

Just put the damn photo away and focus on your task…

It’s past. It’s past. It’s past.

It was all over.

But how does Jungkook have it?

You freeze again, brows furrowed in confusion. Did he stalk you so hard he found your old photos as well? Did he know about the past that you hate? Did he know about the pain you went through but still decided to traumatize you more?

You clutch the photo even tighter. You’re fighting. There’s a war going inside your head. So many things happening at the same time. And you’re afraid you’re losing.

Let the photo go…

You blankly stare at the photo for another second before, reluctantly dragging your gaze away, to the scattered books. That’s when you notice a second photo peeking out from one of the books.

You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t.

Your hand works in autopilot mode when you grab the book and turn it over, dropping at least twenty photos inside it to your lap. You let the photo of you go as you start picking up one by one. Slowly first. Eyes carefully scanning over every single one of them.

You, with Daebi, at the university café.

You, with Hoseok, inside his car.

You, with Jimin….

With Nina….

With some other people, you don’t recognize…

You. You. You.

At your classes.

At your apartment.

At your job.

Library.

You go through the photos as fast as the wind. Your speed builds up with every photo, until one makes you freeze.

It is not you.

A person stands in front of a building you don’t recognize. He is wearing black, head to toe. Even his face is covered in a hoodie. The memories return. Blood. Screams. Light… and a guy. His hands wrapped around you, mumbling sweet nothing in your ear. His hands were covered in blood. His face was covered in a hoodie.

Suddenly, you are sitting in the back of that business class. A meek, nerdy guy next to you. His face hidden, all you can see is a part of his cheek and set of pretty pink lips. Even with the time and all your efforts to drown those memories, you remember him like you’re staring at him.

Lips.

Pretty pink lips.

You even remember the taste of those lips. The warmth of them.

Those lips should’ve faded into memory. The memories should be jumbled. You should only remember the faded bits. But strangely you don’t. Instead, you feel like you’ve seen the same lips yesterday. You feel like those lips were pressed against yours a moment ago.

Pretty pink lips…

Out of nowhere Jungkook’s smile flashes across your mind. The way his lips stretch, making the lip ring glint. The way he bites onto his bottom lip to contain his goofy smile. That adorable, boyish smile.

Haven’t you seen that smile before as well?

The guy who wore that hoodie, that guy who never told you his name, kept his face hidden from you, drugged you, almost killed a person in front of you. Hasn’t he smiled the same way? It was such a rare thing but you’ve seen him smile. And you’ve seen his lips. Is it possible to recognize someone with their lips?

No…. That can’t be. No fucking way.

You gasp for air even though there is nothing keeping you from inhaling. That familiar fear you’ve not experienced for a long time now, shoots across your body, wrapping around your bones, flesh, and skin.

No….

Out of all the fucked up and twisted things in your life, this can’t be one.

You hurriedly throw away the image and pick up the last one. And with that the last threads of hope you hold onto are shredded into million pieces.

It’s an exact similar second image of the previous one. The same person is standing in the same posture in front of the same building. Yet the hood that covered his face had fallen back, revealing his face.

The same face that had greeted you every morning for the past couple months. The face that you always found to be astonishingly handsome. The face that lured you into this trap through that AI app.

It’s the same person. Just far, far younger.

Jeon Jungkook!

Right then, you lose the battle. The sobs and cries you are trying so hard not to let out, escapes you as one loud gasp, followed by uncontrollable tears. Yet before that gasp can turn into loud sobs a familiar voice distracts you.

“Pretty?”

You turn around faster than a bolt of lightning. Your eyes meet with Jungkook who stands in the doorway, scowling, confused. In another time you would’ve been scared for your life. So startled that you start to stutter. This moment, however, you don’t feel anything remotely close to fear. Instead, a rage builds up inside you. A rage that is born from a hurt.

Ridiculous. Why would you be hurt? You should only be angry.

“You motherfucker!” You rush into your feet. Storm toward Jungkook within a blink of an eye. “You fucking lied to me! It was you! It was you all along! You were the prick who ruined my life back then and now….” You screech through your lungs, tears mixing with your enraged words and making your voice crack. “And you lied to me! Every, fucking, person in my life…” You curl your fists into tiny balls, the photo still clutched between your fingers, as you hit Jungkook’s chest. “Everyone… lied to me…” You hit him over and over. Clenching your teeth and pouring all your anger as tears. “I trusted you… And you lied to me too… You fuckingー”

“Pretty, hey, hey…” Jungkook grabs your fists, preventing you from attacking him like a mad cat. You struggle against him the best you can but he holds you tight. “Het, pretty… fuck! Listen to me!”

“I fucking hate you Jeon Jungkook! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hateー” You scream. Jungkook muffles your screams by pulling you into his chest. “I hate you so much.” So, you mumble into his chest, giving up trying to free yourself from his hold. He’s too strong for you.

You should be mad, but what you feel is hurt.

Did you really trust your captor?

“I didn’t lie to you… No, baby, I didn’t.” He mutters into your hair. You don’t give him a reply. Just break into his chest. “I was just a kid, I didn’t know what I was doing.” He continues. “I just wanted a chance to show you that I- I- uh- loved you,” His hold on you tightens. “I’ve always loved you. So damn much. But you were so gone about your pathetic ex, you didn’t even notice me. I had to do something.”

You don’t even know what he’s saying anymore. Your head is spinning and your ears are ringing. Yet at the back of your mind, the pieces finally fall into place.

“I won’t accept the defeat this time…”

“You never saw how I always loved you…”

You never paid that much of an attention to those words. Now they make sense.

“Y-you fucking- drugged me… y-you almost let someone toー” You stutter out weakly, only to get cut off.

“I didn’t, did I? I’d never let anyone lay a fucking finger on you.”

You ignore what he’s saying. “Y-you let me wa-watch a-as you killed a person.”

“He didn’t die.”

As if that would change anything.

“Oh god, why Jungkook? Why me? What did I ever do to you?”

“Don’t say that, pretty. Don’t fucking say that,” Jungkook hides his face in your hair. “You have no idea how much I love you… I was just trying. I was a kid,” his voice cracks painfully, and even without looking at him, you get the suspicion that he’s joined you with the crying. “I was trying to win you over and that was a mistake. I’m so sorry, princess, don’t say you hate me. C’mon I deserve a chance. I- I- was trying while your boyfriend was getting his cock sucked by your best friend.”

Your sobs deepen. Jungkook presses kiss after kiss into your hair.

“I’m so sorry baby, but give me a chance… You know I’ll never hurt you. Let me tell you the full story.”

You don’t want to listen to any story. No. You don’t want this pain.

You pull away from his chest despite his reluctance. For a second you peer into his glossy eyes. Then in the next, you pull him into a hungry kiss.

Fuck this!

Fuck your life!

Jungkook is fucking sick. But still, you know he’s painfully in love with you.

If you can’t escape this hell, then you might get used to it.

………………………

At Hoseok’s place

“Are you guys fucking kidding me?” Jimin practically throws the tablet away. Luckily it doesn’t hit anything but just drops into the couch.

“What do you want us to do, Jimin?” Deabi shouts across from the living room, hands dramatically thrown in the air.

Hoseok watches wearily as his girlfriend and best friend fight over a matter that’s worth all the fighting.

“Is that even a question, Daebi? That’s your fucking best friend. You give her up that easily?” Jimin says, with a rage Hoseok has only seen once — on that cursed night.

“I’m tired, for God’s sake! I’m tired and I can’t do this anymore.” Daebi slumps her shoulders.

“You’re a fucking coward!” Jimin points a finger at her. Then turns his glare to Hoseok. “You too. You both are fucking cowards. First, you went behind her back and then when she needed you, you just give up?”

“We- we’re not—” Hoseok tries to argue when Jimin stops him.

“Save the fucking excuses, man. I can’t believe you dragged us into this shit as well? I can’t believe you did that to her.” Jimin scoffs. “But guess what? I’m better than you. I’m not fucking giving up.”

“Then what the hell are you going to do?” Hoseok yells for the first time as well. This is ridiculous. He doesn’t want to give up. No. But things have turned to a point where there is no answer for anything. After exactly four months of continuous searching, and no clue, everyone has accepted that you are dead. The case isn’t officially closed yet but the fire it had caused has died down.

One of their good friends who was actively working on the case has informed Hoseok that there might be no hope. And after a year, the case would be officially closing and the court would declare you dead, citing your mental instability. He had asked Hoseok to give up on hope.

Apparently, Jimin isn’t ready to do so. Which is good. Hoseok would be happy to be a part of that. But the question remains. What are they going to do? An unwavering determination without a plan is stupid, which describes Jimin at this moment.

Hoseok knows where Jimin comes from. Jimin used to be a good friend of yours. He met you because of Hoseok and therefore you were always out of reach for him. But maybe if Hoseok never was a part of that equation Jimin should’ve taken your friendship into other levels. Yet life had different plans. And Jimin settled into being that good friend who would travel impossible distances to make sure his friends are okay.

That’s exactly what Jimin is trying to do. You grew apart after your nasty breakup with Hoseok. Hoseok knows that. Mainly because Jimin is Hoseok’s friend and Jimin was ashamed to face you. Then before you could actually become friends again you’ve disappeared.

Then there must be the guilt. Guilt of finally knowing Hoseok and Daebi’s story. They decided to come clean to at least Jimin and Nina after you disappeared. They wanted a way to ease their consciousness, even when they knew it wasn’t going to go well. Just as expected, Jimin was ready to murder them both. Disappointed. So was Nina. Jimin even stopped talking to Hoseok, until he sent the text on the group chat today.

The very reason why Jimin barged in.

“I don’t know… maybe trying to convince your detective friend not to give up so easily. It’s just fucking four months.” Jimin grits.

Technically, it’s turning five in a week. And Hoseok can’t do such a thing. He is friends with a detective who was happy to take over your case. Friends. That’s the word. He is not a boss.

“Jimin-ah…” Hoseok sighs, not knowing exactly how to explain to his friend that this is out of his control.

Jimin lets out a bitter chuckle. “What? You can’t? Of course, you can’t.” He takes a threatening step toward Hoseok. “Well, you know what Hoseok? It’s not that you can’t, it’s that you don’t. I fucking bet you two,” he gestures between Hoseok and Daebi. “Are actually fucking happy that she went missing.” Jimin spits out making Hoseok’s eyes widen.

What now?

And making it worse Jimin adds more to his nonsense with a low voice. “Maybe, you’re the reason why she—”

Jimin doesn’t get to finish the sentence when Hoseok practically jumps at him, grabbing from his shirt with both hands.

“What the fuck did you say?” Hoseok screeches. Jimin doesn’t even flinch at the sudden impact.

“Oh god, will you guys stop… we’re friends.” Before Jimin can answer Hoseok, Daebi meddles, trying to part the two friends who are about to strangle each other.

“Friends?” Jimin shakes Hoseok’s hands off him, scoffing. “I don’t see any friends here. In fact, I’m not your friend Daebi.” With that he throws a final glare at Hoseok. Turns around. “Enjoy. Get engaged. Hell, get married so we can throw a party.” Says before walking away and disappears through the front door.

A heavy silence falls over.

“I’m so disappointed in you guys.” After a minute, Nina, who’s been so quiet and pale, mumbles weakly.

Then she too walks slowly over to the front door.

……………………………………..

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