#seems like it's not serious enough to warrant it

[monster-noises]

Ahahahahaaha love love Love getting Medical Anxiety triggered by over hearing something at work and fucking Finally feeling normal by the end of the work day only to come home and Remember It

Best time

Good vibes

My insides are vibrating at a daaaaangerous frequency and it's Not Helping

[hegrowth-arc]

okay. last ooc post and then I promise I'll do something.

this is going to sound like a shitpost, but... does anyone elses ear ever just wubwubwubwub ?? like it sounds / feels like my eardrum / canal is spasming, and it's just the one ear not both. it doesn't hurt or anything it just. wubwubwub randomly sometimes. its been doing it for a couple weeks and idk why or if I should be concerned lmao

[ramonathinks]

matters of the heart — Nanami K.

summary: finding out your ex-boyfriend wrote a novel detailing your relationship isn’t how you expected this week to go and to make matters worse everyone on the internet now thinks your “character” is a total bitch. you decide to pay your ex a visit, but can you do that without succumbing to your natural urges? well, no!

tags: 18+(MDNI/blank blogs) slight porn with plot, oral (f! receiving), brief nipple sucking, daddy kink, creampie, i guess nanami is a bit toxic in this lol, nanami might also be a bit ooc in here

to the moaners: has this been sitting in the draft for about 3-4 months? yes! but happy birthday month, kento 😚. artwork by @/_3aem (twt); @ryomens-vixen (this was the fic I mentioned a while back) word count: 5.6k (yuck), I don't really like this

I’m going to kill him, that was the only thing on your mind once you closed out of the novel. Normally, your weekends were spent relaxing with a fruity bubble-gum colored cocktail but today was different. Shoko called your phone at exactly 9:26 am claiming it was time she divulged some news to you. At exactly 9: 28am, she sent you an online copy of a book titled, “Matters of the Heart” and told you it was nothing but a two or three hour read and then to call once you finished. 

The book had a slow start and it seemed pretty average, just any old love story. Lately, anything was getting published and it seemed that was the case here — wait, you paused your reading and sat up straight. No. Just no. Something just clicked for you which led you to completely start over from page one. 

The moment you finished, at exactly 1:01 pm, you grabbed a salmon colored low cut shirt and light washed jeans, slipped on your white shoes and hurried to get into your car. You didn’t need to call her phone because you were going to talk to her face to face; this situation warranted a real conversation. It was nothing but a 17 minute drive to Shoko’s house, so when you arrived at exactly 1:18 pm, her door was already open. “They’re bashing me, Shoko. Fucking bashing! How could he do this to me?” Were the first words that flew out of your mouth, holding your phone close to her face so that she could see the reviews. 

“Well, it’s not like anyone would know it’s you.” She yawned, handing you a cup of water – probably because of how crazy you looked – before she ushered you to a seat on the couch. A golden brown blanket was lazily thrown on the seat, which she hurried to move. You sat down and faced her with a look of what Shoko could only describe as pure sadness. She had seen you like this many times before, all because of one person. 

“You did.” You sniffled with an eye roll, you couldn’t help but feel uncertain. Reading this book only brought back more uncomfortable feelings towards the breakup and him. You thought that you were over him and the memories that the book produced made you question everything. One question remained which is: Why?

She giggled drily. “Hey, I read all his works. Pseudonym or not. He can’t hide from me. Plus, I know you both and everything that went on. I was there too, remember?” She mumbled the last part. “Maybe this was his way of coping?”

“It’s been years… and I heard he’s announced a sequel. Shoko, a SEQUEL! It’ll be released later this year.” You spoke in a shaking watery voice while she rubbed your back in an attempt of comfort. Your mind could only think of what the reactions would be to your character in the sequel… insecurities that you never knew were there flooded your mind.

“There was enough material for a sequel? I thought he covered everything…” Shoko rubbed her chin and looked deep in thought. You just stared at her, she couldn’t be serious. “Sorry, ignore me.” She shook her head ignoring your stare.

“Do I even confront him over this? A-and how would that make me look, like I still check on him right? I’ll look crazy and bitter… which apparently I am. Oh and I’m bitchy and a ‘total cunt’ as they’re putting online.” He didn’t know just how much you changed, he missed your growth. Rubbing your eyes, you ask:“Why did you tell me about this? What made you take so long… I just don’t understand.”

“Well, at first… I didn’t think you’d care.” Moving a strand of her nut-brown hair out of her face, she continued. “Then about a month ago, I decided it was right to tell you, just in case someone else pieced it together.”

“Gojo read it then, huh?” You mentally cringed at the thought. It was the only person you could think of who’d be so crude about it. He knew how damaging the breakup was for you but not as bad as Shoko knows. Now, you’re just grateful that she told you before he did.

“Yep, so I figured that I had to tell you before he did.” She clicked her tongue. “But let’s just calm down before you make any rash decisions on how to handle this.” 

“He wrote a fucking duality series about me, our relationship, our sex life and you want me to calm down? Are you listening to yourself? This is a serious matter. I am being called a bitch, a slut and more on Goodreads and multiple websites, reviews, etc. and he didn’t even have the audacity to give me a heads up. You had to call me.” You let out an unladylike snort.“Why couldn’t he stick to his mystery novels? Wasn’t he doing good at those?”

“Writer's block.” Shoko said in a singsong-like voice. “He hadn’t written a mystery book since you two broke up and then… he alerted his supporters he wanted to switch things up and then… that was that. Ladies loved it, a big hit. By the way, if you two were really fucking like that I need to se—”

“Shoko, now is not the time!” Your face felt hot all over, your mind racing. “I just can’t believe this.” You wrapped your arms around your body and squeezed, giving yourself one big squeeze. It was hard not to cry but you could feel it all in your throat. 

“I’m sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think his intentions were to make you feel bad.” She hugged you to her chest, pressing a small kiss to the crown of your head. “I think he still loves you. I mean, isn’t this book proof? After all these years, he wrote about you.” 

“I’m sure he moved on by now.” You whispered, your eyes growing tired already and the day had barely started. “I just need to lay down. I need to rest.” Your mind seemed to finally grow calm and your breathing steady, a small hiccup now in your throat but with a gulp of water, you were better.

“Just stay here. I don’t trust you to be alone right now.” Shoko’s voice drowned out as sleep overtook you, you could only feel her warmth as she held you and honestly it was all you needed at this moment, Shoko always made you feel safe and you couldn’t thank her more than enough for that right now as you slept.

You were a light sleeper, it was always something that Nanami pointed out about you. He always said how he felt like he couldn’t leave the room while you slept even if it was to use the bathroom afraid to wake you. He knew how important sleep was to you and he’d risk having a bladder infection if you got all 8 hours that you required. Nanami was sweet and caring like that. 

You didn’t think you’d break up with him ever. He was the one for you and he always made that clear. He pampered you and even after the breakup – though you didn’t need it – he left you with a check for five thousand dollars, saying it was for his half of the lease for the next few months. 

The breakup was brutal for you. You almost quit working entirely. Shoko was the only person you’d confined into and the only friend you left to check in on you especially when you didn’t want to leave the house. She brought you groceries and helped you shower until you finally were able to get up again.

Though it was hard to believe, it was Nanami who broke up with you. You thought it was a joke, a cliche little joke. 

“Baby, I’m not joking.” His voice was quiet and husky, he spoke as if he was going to cry. “I just need some time to myself. I need to figure out if this is what I want. You don’t have to wait for me, you just keep on living your life and being happy. But… I think it’s time we let this go.” 

You didn’t cry in front of him. You didn’t cry when he packed his things up. You certainly didn’t cry when he shut the door, leaving his key on the table because you knew he was joking. He had to be. But when you called him and his number was disconnected and you were blocked on any form of social media… that was when you broke down and cried. 

It happened out of nowhere. You overanalyzed every aspect of your relationship for where you went wrong. You wrote down every conversation you could remember and dissected it word by word. You watched every video and picture you had of the two of you looking for a bit of regret or anything on his face. You read every text message, looking for malice. He said he needed time to figure out if he wanted this but he always made it clear that he did and even that he was looking forward to having kids together, you two had even gone ring shopping months ago. 

You didn’t sleep and when you did, it was only for 4 hours and sometimes barely that. Your heart had an ache in it and the tears wouldn’t stop. You could only think why wasn’t I enough?

When you opened your eyes Shoko was still holding you and a small smile grew on your lips. “Thank you Shoko.” You knew if you could count on anyone, it was always going to be her. She was the one who pieced you back together and made sure that life didn’t destroy you and you couldn’t help but to be grateful. 

“Of course. ‘M going to let you spend the night here, okay? Let’s get some takeout and watch your favorite movies, how’s that sound?” She knew the way to your aching heart like the back of her hand. 

“It sounds amazing!” You stretched your arms out wide, leaning off of her and sitting up. “Should we start with Uptown Girls or Legally Blonde?” 

It took two days before you confronted him. Shoko was adamant about not giving you his address and you were tempted to get it from her phone. But luckily, you wore her down, she was probably tired of you bringing him or his book in every conversation. So now you stood there, nerves washing over you in waves.

The mahogany colored door stared at you – mocked you – and you returned the glare before you knocked on it, hard. This was just a door and you were angry at the person behind said door, not the door itself. 

It was almost like he was waiting on you because the door unlocked and opened. He even stepped aside to let you in, quiet. His straw-colored hair was parted differently and he even looked taller or broader – you couldn’t completely tell – but he looked different… seemed different. The atmosphere around him made your stomach clench and it made you mad; why did it feel like only you suffered from the breakup? Here he was – strong and tall – and you were nothing or rather the same.

“You wrote a romance erotica novel about our relationship?” It was what you practiced saying before you got out of your car – making sure your voice didn’t tremble – this time, it didn’t. 

“Well, hello to you too. Even after three and a half years, you still like to get straight to the point.” He grinned, putting a hand on your back to guide you to a seat on his couch. “I must ask, what makes you think it’s about you?” He does a slight laugh and raises his brow.

“We have the same initials, almost the same name. Are you kidding me?” You retort, folding your arms across your chest. You tried to ignore the fuzzy feeling in your chest that occurred when you heard his voice after so long, hearing him and seeing that damned smile… your nose scrunched up.

“Sorry, I just didn’t know you kept up with me… with my books…” He muttered, glancing your way, a demure look in his amber eyes. “Should I be flattered?” Almost in an instant, he turned on a slight cockiness to himself, though his body language showed his nervousness – his thigh bouncing a bit and his fingers tapping on the couch handle. A light sense of relief filled your system knowing that you weren’t the only one being affected by this.

“I don’t.” You inhaled deeply. “Shoko told me about it and then, I checked it out.” Fiddling with your fingers and even picking at your nails, that was your tell all sign of nervousness and right now you were engaging in it more than ever before. 

“I wanted to tell you or rather, to ask you. I know you got the voicemails I sent last year…and then you kept dodging my calls.” He tells you, you could feel his eyes on you – or more so your fingers… the nasty habit that he had finally got you to stop all those years ago rushing right back in an instant.

“Writing a book to trash me and our relationship… to make you look like some sort of… ugh, like you’re so amazing and I’m just shit. Yeah, that certainly got my attention.” If you were coming off bitchy or rude right there, you couldn’t care less especially when there were worse things that you could’ve said or even could’ve done at this moment. You really wanted to slap him. 

“Is that all you got out of it?” He asks with his head low, almost as if he was admitting defeat or as if he couldn’t believe you came up with something so trivial. 

“Was there anything else to get?” You counter, shifting your body towards him. Maybe it was best that you sat down and actually listened to the author and his interpretations of his work.

“How about that I love you regardless of any flaws… how about I find your stubbornness and attitude sexy and how I knew this breakup would be good for you. I was holding you back. I mean, I heard you got promoted 3 times since we broke up… I just felt like I was changing you, hindering your growth. I needed to reflect on myself and this book helped that.” He tapped his fingers against his thigh, yet another sign of his anxiousness. “Believe it or not, I still care about you. No matter what happened between us.”

“What happened? You mean when you decided to just leave? You could've told me everything you just told me and I would’ve understood better. We could’ve talked and came to a compromise. You don’t understand what you put me through after it.” You were close to tears but you straighten your posture and sniffled, it was best not to think about what happened before. “I just needed a bit of closure too, I guess that’s why I came. I just was caught off guard. You could’ve knocked on my door or something, forced me to answer… forced me to talk.”

He met your eye for the first time since you came over. “You wouldn’t have listened,” He huffs. “Didn’t I mention how stubborn you are? Plus, I meant what I said. I needed time to myself and I think we both did.”

“I guess…But Nanami, this book was too much. A letter would’ve been fine if you needed closure, don’t you think?” You see his lips quirk up a bit before he licks them, trying not to laugh it seems.

“My publisher got a hold of some of the documents where I was just going over things, writing here and there. She loved the idea… plus I’m in a contract for six books so I had to put something out soon, it had already been a year.” He told you, sitting his chin on top of his knuckles. “I honestly didn't mean to hurt you. I was writing for fun… reminiscing about us and then later down the line, I realized I was writing because I wanted you to read it, I just didn’t exactly know how to get you to since you were very adamant on avoiding me, which is understandable. But regardless, I didn’t think it’d get on the bestseller list or for the reviews to get so harsh.” He admits, reaching for your hand before his hand froze in midair and he stopped himself, choosing instead to put it behind his head.

“Is there anyway you can stop the sequel from being published then… since you got my attention after all this time?” You asked, putting your most dazzling smile on, hoping to sway him. 

“I can talk to my publisher. Everything’s in print and materials are already done… but I’ll try to see if I can stop production.” His adam’s apple bobbles when he does a harsh swallow. “Are we… okay? Do you forgive me?”

The question made you pause. He always made it hard for you to not forgive him; it took one look or a smile and a small explanation and it made it easy to fall in love with him all over again, no matter what he did… it seems. But it made you ask yourself: Were you too easy? Did you really forgive him? It was thoughts like that swirling around the corners of your mind. You wanted to forgive him, he was just writing and telling a story… but it was your story, not just his. Using this for your attention when he could’ve written about anything else, he didn’t have to. Were you just ready to forgive him because you still loved him? 

You hadn’t realized how deep in thought you were until you felt the couch dip and even then, your mind was still spirling.“You don’t have to…” His voice brings you out of your thoughts, his body so close to yours that it was getting hard to breathe. He still smelled the same; citrus and woodsy and it was easy to get yourself sucked back in. 

“So you can write another book about my stubbornness?” You give a quiet giggle, scooting a bit away from him, seeing him frown from the corner of your eyes. You didn’t want to fall back but he made it all so simple. It was easy and you were already falling back on him and you didn’t need that… Did you?

“Baby…” Your body buzzed and hummed, turning to him with wide eyes. “I’ll do anything I can to make this right. Anything for you to forgive me… If they can’t stop publication, what can I do to make us right?” He was doing more than a gaze, he was full on staring and from how close he was it was hard to avoid. 

“Nanami I–” You stopped yourself. You couldn’t really think of anything he could do but you could think of several unhealthy things you could do to ruin your progress on going over him. He had betrayed you and made you a laughing stock so why are you stuck thinking about forgiveness when you should be leaving.

“I never stopped loving you.” His fingers traced up and down your pants but his eyes stayed on yours. “I never thought about anyone but you… I never slept with anyone… it’s always been you. But, I understand what I put you through and I’ll apologize every second until you forgive me…” The blond man who you never saw shed a tear looked more than close to it. “But just please… forgive me.”

“I’m sorry, honest.” He tries again after being met with absolute silence. “Just… let me show you, okay?” His breath tickles your face for a second and when you look into his cocoa brown eyes, you feel everything you once felt again.

Memories of good times dulls out the odd feelings in the pit of your stomach – the confusion and pain – instead are replaced with joy. The trip to Malaysia where he rubbed sunscreen on your entire body and laid back to read a book and you watched as his eyes kept drifting to you while you played in the cerulean water; how you kept begging him to come in until he complied and how eventually in the early hours of the morning when you wanted another dip, he fucked you twice — once in the golden lush sand and another in the cool ocean water. 

His face is in your thighs and you couldn’t help but feel better, feeling his breath fanning so close to your pants covered pussy, your body felt scorching hot. He’s grumbling, “Will you let me make it up to you? Will you let me show you how sorry I am?” 

You must’ve nodded because he was already unbuttoning your pants and helping you lay back, pulling your shirt up just a bit to see your perky tits – he must’ve remembered how you never wore bras unless you felt it was necessary, which was mainly work or any important events. 

He blew a bit on your hardening nipples before he took one into his mouth – playing biting them with a smug look on his face before he began licking around your areolas and kissing around the swells of your breast. He doesn’t say anything but he looks deep in thought as he kisses down your body, his fingers scraping down your sides as he works your pants and your panties all the way down. Bringing his head up for a minute, he looks in your face. “I love you.” He says it simply, heavy emotions swirling in his brown eyes.

Removing your pants and underwear completely from your body, he spreads your thighs and looks over your body – a trimmed low pretty bush sits between your thighs and it makes him smile, he always loved seeing the curled hair on your delicate lower lips. He spreads your pussy, watching the skin stretch with a deep smile on his face. You could feel yourself … the wetness leaking down under your body and it made you cringe, but the way he was staring at you made the insecurities vanish. “All this for me?” He takes a tentative lick before he slurps, clutching your hips. “I know you like to run… but I need you to stay put, got it?” It was hard for you to listen to him, your head already fuzzy and the thoughts swirling around were only about him, nothing more. 

Then your body bucks up, “Wait–!” A broken moan escapes your mouth when he presses a soft wet kiss to your clit. Nanami had always been gentle and very careful whenever he ate you out; making sure his tongue was wet enough and that he wasn’t too rough. His tongue was wide enough to make your back arch, your body leaving the couch when it finally hit your clit and he gave you no time to recover before he peeled back the hood, sitting the tip of his tongue there and rapidly flicked at the bud. 

Hearing the lewd squelching noises coming from the mixture of your cunt and his mouth made you close your eyes, squeezing them shut tightly. He spits before he licks it up and down your aching slit, nudging his tongue inside only slightly, much to your dismay. You’re gasping every second when more of his tongue slips in and out of your pussy; sliding a bit more each time and it makes your thighs shake. When he finally slips his entire tongue inside of you, curling it just enough that you can feel it everywhere, your legs attempt to close up around his head. “Please– ‘m so… soo–oh…” His fingers join in on the fun and in small sloppy circles he rubs your clit, pressing down on the pearl while his tongue continues flicking inside of you. The split second that you open your eyes, his are already on yours and it was that moment, that made your body tense up and for you to cum. 

It happens fast, clear sticky wetness leaks out of you and Nanami still tries to get more of it on his tongue, catching anything that drips and sucking on your folds. “Always so fucking good…” He mutters, spreading you again and smearing more of your slick on his face by shaking his head between your thighs, so that he’s completely covered in you. 

When he moves his head, embarrassment comes over you, looking at his wet face… even his forehead was wet and you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. “Nothing to be embarrassed about, baby but… I’ll be right back, stay wet for me.”

Your heart hammers against your chest, lying there on this now wet couch. You didn’t come over here for this and yet here you are… about to get fucked and really, it was no turning back now. You’d been on dates with men after Nanami but they never lasted past the second date and you certainly hadn’t had sex in a while, but he made you come apart like it was nothing.  

But then again, Nanami knew your body… so of course this was a walk in the park for him. It honestly annoyed you right now, you couldn’t even make yourself cum half the time especially these last few years and now, barely an hour here and he has you right where he wanted you… bare and practically back in love with him.

Nanami came back with a fresh face and unbuttoned pants that he was currently pulling down. You clenched around nothing, your mind thinking only of the perfect dick that was going to be coming out of those pants. You licked your lips, this would be the first dick you saw in years and it was his. 

His drooling cock slapped his stomach and you swallowed, your mouth felt unreasonably dry. The length of his cock always impressed you, standing tall at seven and a half inches, he shakes with laughter which snaps you out of your daze. “Now let me look at you.” His whispers and even though he already saw you, both years ago and right now, you can’t help but feel hot all over again. He’s staring – drawing his eyes down every inch of your body –  focusing on your breast before getting to the stare of the show yet again. He smirks, laying you back down, pressing his body against yours to kiss you. 

Your breath was caught in your throat, his tongue still tasted of you and his hands cups your jaw. He’s gentle, his tongue moving around your mouth messily before he stops, saliva breaking apart when he does so. His fingers make a ghostly featherlight touch on your clit that makes you jump, the head of his cock at your entrance. He holds out his hand, close to your mouth. “Spit.” Gathering up some, you spit in the palm of his hand and stroke it along his length, huffing at the sensation. 

He pushes in, taking his time to work himself inside of you, a strained expression on his face. Hips pulled back, he focuses more on just the tip of himself fucking you, watching your pussy stretch with just the tiniest bit of resistance. Inching himself inside, you watch his torso flex and he groans, obscene noises plop and plap around the apartment, his heavy cock pushing in and out of you, your toes curling. 

“Pussy still mines, right? Didn’t give it away, did you?” You’re struggling to talk - to fucking breathe - your eyes rolling back and your jaw slacked but you babble out a soft ‘no’ which makes him finally thrust in you harder, completely bottoming out. You feel him in your belly, feeling full and embarrassingly wide with him stretching you out, his balls sitting on the crest of your ass before he moves. 

He moves you a bit, your bodies flush to each other and he moves his hips in harsh circles, his pelvis so close to your clit. His hands on your calves, he pushes your legs so that they rest on his shoulders, your knees touching your ears makes you tighten up and he groans above you.

“Nanami I-” You call out, eyes closed with pleasure shaking through your core, wetness slapping between the both of you. 

“Nanami? No, call me what you used to call me.” His hips slowed down, a whine escaping your lips. His cock dragging inside of your walls, pulling out slowly, awaiting your response. 

“Please…don’t slow down, Ken—” before the word even left your lips, his hand slapped your cunt, leaving your legs shaking a bit and your eyes snapping open. Drops of tears run down your cheeks and you sniffle, reaching for him… you couldn’t help but feel so small in his presence.

“Say it.” Then, you knew what he meant. A name that now feels foreign in your brain and even when it leaves your mouth, it comes out in a strange rattled whimper.

“Oh, oh… daddy, ‘m sorry. Please, keep fucking me. It’s so goooood!” He’s grinning before the words leave your mouth.

“Still my good girl huh? Always so fucking good for daddy.” He licks up your neck and it makes you tremble, your tongue lolling out a bit and he moves to suckle on it. “Did you skip over all those sex scenes or did you rub this pussy out to them?” He asks, his fingers digging in the back of your thighs. 

You choked out, sobbing, “I did, daddy… But I-I don’t want to remember everything.” 

“You don’t remember all the words I used to describe this cunt? This pretty pussy? That changed his life… my life? That made him always crawl back? That made him so fucking hard? The pretty words I used to describe you? To describe how pretty she always looked when he fucked her? How his heart felt like it was going to explode when she looked at him too long because he loved her so damn much?” He’s groaning in your ear, thrusting into you, his depth reaching your g-spot, your pussy spasming and begging for his cum at every word he uttered. 

Pumping himself inside, you could see the white creaminess that was on his cock, most likely because of you, he was constantly fucking the cream inside of you, your nails digged into his arms and he moaned at the feeling. Your stomach tightens and you move to push him away, “I’m going to c–cum!” You felt him throbbing inside of you, signaling that he was close too. “Please, cum inside of me… I can’t take it.” You couldn’t stand it any longer, it’s been years and you needed him to fill you up. He stopped for a moment, changing positions so that you’ll be sitting on his lap, grabbing your hips and forcibly bouncing you on his dick, dangerously slow. 

Wetness gushes on him as his tip hits you from a new angle, seeing the outline of him in your tummy, he’s stretching you again with each nasty thrust. Each drag of his cock making you go crazy and the aching between your legs continue, your body shaking and both of you moaning loudly and over each other. 

Finally, your orgasm rattled and shook your entire body, your pussy sucking him in, milking him for all he’s worth and it makes his body shake and he releases inside of you, trying to stay quiet as his body jerks up, unable to stop himself from fucking you through both of your orgasms.

It’s quiet for a while, just heavy breathing with you laying on his chest. “I love you too…” Your voice is scratchy and your face tear stained. He doesn’t say anything, his cock still pulsing inside of you.

“I know. I love you too, never stopped.” 

“Did you at least read the acknowledgements or did you just dive right in?”

“I never read the acknowledgements for books, thought you would’ve remembered that.” You watch him get up, walking around the living room, looking for something. You were both still naked and the entire room smelled of sex. 

“I did remember that and when you barged in my door, I already knew that you still hadn’t changed when it came to that. Here, read this part right here.” He brings you over a copy and you run your fingers around the softback cover with a small smile on your face; this silly thing had brought you both back together and right now you could give less than a fuck about those reviews. 

Feeling the spine of the book, you open it and can practically smell the scent of an unopened new book. Turning the first few pages, you go to the one page acknowledgment and read it aloud: “She might not read this book. But if she does, by chance. I hope she knows that I still love her.” You wiped your eyes and smiled. “You’re an asshole, you know?”

He lets out a hearty laugh, “I know baby.” Kissing the top of your head, he gets up and grabs his phone from the kitchen counter and you follow him. “I think I have enough material to write a third book now.” He grabs his phone and starts typing, his eyebrows furrowed as if he was deep in thought. Attempting to grab his phone he chuckles and uses his height to his advantage by standing taller.

Standing on the tips of your toes you snort, “Don’t even joke about that!” But a smile takes over your face and he can’t help but smile too. 

[hotchner-edu]

Not Family | Aaron Hotchner

Synopsis: You are the youngest agent on the team and you greatly admire Aaron. When you make a critical error on the field, you realize that maybe your bond was all in your head. — part 2 here

Pairing: Father-figure!Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Reader (Platonic)

Warning: angst, hurt/no comfort, fluff if you close your eyes, daddy issues

The prickling sensation running down your neck and spine made your fingers shake and your eyes sting. Humiliation and shame painting every fiber of your being, your head hanging low as your face burned.

“You could have cost us the entire case!” Hotch yelled, voice echoing around the entire police precinct as he chewed you out in front of the entire station.

You could feel the team staring at the exchange, giving you looks of pity behind your back. Hotch was notorious for being stern and no nonsense when it came to work, but he never yelled at you.

You were the youngest agent on the BAU team, Spencer’s junior by a year, but just as capable as your colleagues. Or at least that’s what you had worked yourself up to believe.

It felt like your entire self-confidence was being decimated by the man in front of you. The error you made had been quite serious, but you didn’t think it warranted this degree of fury from your boss.

You had naively and selfishly begun to look up to him as an almost father figure, having confided in him about your trauma regarding your birth father. It was something you both connected on early in your career on the team.

In a way, Hotch had always been a bit soft on you because of that. But by the way he was going red in the face and yelling down at you, it seemed maybe it was just all in your head.

Being the youngest, you were a bit babied. You had always been a bit sensitive when it came to the team, having let them into your heart a long time ago. Unfortunately, this meant you hadn’t prepared yourself adequately.

“I apologize, sir. It’s completely my fault. It won’t happen again.” You spoke meekly, feeling like your words and movements were being controlled by someone else.

You were certain you were tearing up a bit, feeling trapped by the verbal beating Hotch was giving you.

“What the hell were you thinking? How much longer do we all have to hold your hand for? We need to be able to trust that you’re capable enough to work out on the field.” He seethed, eyes glaring through you like you were just another incompetent subordinate.

“Hey, Hotch. Lay off, okay? She’s already apologized. We all make mistakes. We still have a shot at taking this guy down.” Derek swoops in, stepping forward to try and placate the man.

Hotch doesn’t even shift his gaze away from you. “We don’t work with inept agents on the field.”

If it were possible to crumble away into dust, you were certain you’d be a heap of it on the ground below you. His words felt like a knife through your chest, burning through your veins and leaving a chill on your body as you felt glued to the floor.

Why was he being like this?

That’s all you could think as Hotch finally decided he’s had enough of you for one day. You hear his footsteps growing more distant as he marches off further into the station.

You’re staring at the carpeted floor with an almost empty gaze, the pain you were feeling likely written all over your face as the tears start falling.

The feeling of Derek’s hand on your shoulder rouses you a bit from your wallowing as you glance up at him. Whatever he sees on your face has his expression softening further.

“Hey, Hotch was out of line speaking to you like that. We all make mistakes. Hell, we’ve all made similar calls in the past. No one expects you to be perfect.” He speaks softly. You brave a glance past his shoulder and see the rest of your team gazing at you with sympathy.

“Not perfect, just good enough.” You whisper back, trying to convey the tornado of emotions and insecurities being unleashed inside of you.

Derek seems a bit stumped by your words, clearly trying to think of a way to comfort you. The overbearing feeling of eyes on you has your nerve endings burning, and you need to flee before the team sees further proof of your weakness.

“Excuse me.” You whisper softly and hurry past everyone, stepping out of the suffocating environment and into the quiet bathroom.

The fluorescent lights of the bathroom beat down on you as you sniffle and suppress a sob, fumbling with your phone as you call the first person you can think of. The person you’d run to for anything when Hotch wasn’t available.

“Hello, my sunshine darling! I thought you’d never call.” Penelope’s boisterous voice rings out.

“Penelope.” You say softly, sniffling and gazing at yourself in the mirror. Your face was red and your eyes were already swollen as tears continually stream down your cheeks.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” Her voice immediately grows softer as she becomes the embodiment of concern.

You sob softly and your face scrunches up from the turmoil you were feeling. “I fucked up. Hotch yelled at me.”

Saying those words out loud made the situation sound extremely juvenile, and you can’t help the grimace that paints your face.

Despite having called Penelope to try and ease your pain, you were starting to feel even worse now. You couldn’t even handle being reprimanded by your boss, and now you were running for help. You felt like a complete idiot, blinded by the self-conjured notion that Hotch viewed you as anything but a naive agent.

It was a work team, not a family. How many times would you need to learn that lesson before you’d stop leaning so heavily on them?

“I’m sorry, honey. You know how he can get, especially now with everything going on with Haley. I’m sure he doesn’t mean it.” Penelope reassures you, reminding you of the man’s snappish demeanor since his divorce proceedings.

You keep staring at your reflection, not sure how to continue the conversation as you start feeling utterly alone. Penelope was a busy person, did she really have the time to listen to your woes and self-pitying?

“I’m sorry, Penelope. You’re right. I need to go.” You whisper and hang up before she can say anything else.

That night, you mutely continue working on the case before heading back to your hotel room, ignoring the concerned looks being passed between the team as you robotically work.

While laying in bed that night, you reassure yourself that you’d survive this long relying on yourself. It would be a burden for Hotch if you continued viewing him as a father figure. You could live without having one.

The next day, you all manage to locate the unsub again after your previous mistake that allowed him to flee the day prior. The team is rushing to the cars, bulletproof vests and ear comms on.

It seems that they all have an unspoken agreement to let you go ride with Hotch, silently pushing you both together so you could patch things up.

However, all it does is create an awkward tension in the car ride over as both you and Hotch remain quite stubborn.

You knew Hotch wanted to focus on the case before anything else, and you were too wounded to initiate conversation with him.

“Stay behind me.” Hotch commands softly when you both arrive at the location, a large factory that the unsub previously worked at.

Nodding a bit, you silently follow after him, gun out and safety off.

The entire warehouse is dimly lit and filled with winding hallways, putting you all at a disadvantage since the only person familiar with the layout of the building was the unsub.

It takes you both almost ten minutes before you finally stumble upon the man. Emily had managed to find him first and had her gun raised, trying to talk him down as he had his own gun pointed at her.

When you and Hotch slowly file into the room, guns pointed at him as well, he lets out a loud laugh.

He waves his gun between the three of you as Hotch begins to question him, telling him to not do anything he’ll regret.

You stay silent and glance at Hotch, his words reminding you of everything that occurred the day before.

The unsub sees you and seems to figure out rather quickly the dynamic between the three of you, singling you out as the weakest link.

“One more. I can have one more.” The unsub spits out with a crazed smile.

“Put the gun down.” Hotch commands, voice rising as his patience grows thinner.

The unsub smiles widely and shakes his head. “I’ll take one more. Then everyone will see… They’ll understand! So, let’s see how far loyalty goes.”

It’s almost as if time moves in slow motion from then. The confusion you feel from his words quickly melts away when you see his finger pull the trigger, his gun aimed at Hotch, but his gaze focused on you.

You understood it then, what his objective was. He was a man who felt scorned by the world after everyone he trusted abandoned him, from his friends and family to his supervisor. You all understood the profile, yet somehow no one anticipated that he’d try to test his motive again on the team. 

You drop your gun instinctively and immediately turn to push Hotch out of the way with all the strength you can muster.

You’re unaware of Emily’s gun going off, a bullet piercing through the unsub’s temple as one punctures through you right above the collar of the bulletproof vest and into the base of your neck.

Your eyes are closed before you even hit the floor.

Hotch’s eyes immediately fly toward your crumpled figure as he lifts himself off the floor with his arm. His heart stops, looking at the bullet wound gaping through you— mocking him.

He’s scrambling toward you as the wind is knocked from his lungs, his voice loud and panicked as he screams for Emily to call for medical assistance.

He hovers over you, frantically trying to feel for a pulse with one hand and using the other to put pressure on the bleeding wound.

“Come on, sweetheart. Open your eyes. Please, open your eyes.” He whispers, feeling like he was being doused in ice cold water over and over again. 

Yes, he was certain— it was because of his own drumming heartbeat that he couldn’t feel yours. His fingers are pressed into your pulse points, eyes flying wildly over your face as he wills you to open your eyes.

When he finally regains his bearings a bit and calms his racing heart, he feels his world completely stop when he can’t find a heartbeat.

part 2 here

[nathaslosthershit]

Coworkers?… Something like that (MV33)

Summary: Working in media for a Formula 1 team, you had expected to be behind the scenes, unseen and unnoticed by fans. But catching the eye of one of the drivers and the very public flirting as a result has thrust you into the spotlight Part of my summer event! Warnings: A little suggestive hehe.

It was the perfect job for you. Part of the team you love, far from the spotlight. You were good at it too. Constantly complimented by your boss in meetings on how much engagement some of the content you came up with got. Even the two drivers, who were certainly not known for enjoying media making them do stupid games for the fans, had stopped complaining as much. One driver in particular seemed to really enjoy when you would work with him…

You’d never been a big fan of Max Verstappen. It wasn’t that you disliked him, he was extremely talented of course, and not too bad to look at, but as you had always rooted for the underdog, you couldn’t justify ever celebrating his many many wins. But as you got to know him, as he gave you the warmest of welcomes to the team, you changed your mind. 

You two had been keeping your budding relationship to yourselves. Despite how much you liked each other, until you both had figured out where the relationship was going, it didn’t seem wise to tell anyone, especially while you were just finishing your first year with Red Bull. Despite how much you helped improve the team’s social media presence, if something happened, if it came down to their world champion a few times over, or some girl in media who had only been there for a year…

Luckily, it did get more serious, very serious. After a long conversation, you both had come to the decision that you won’t say anything explicitly, as Red Bull didn’t have rules on dating coworkers that would warrant an official notice to HR, but you wouldn’t hide as much. 

Too bad this decision was made not long before the Drive to Survive team came to film extra content for the show.

It was only supposed to be filler clips. Extra video footage to use with a voiceover to give more time to explain things. ‘Just pretend we aren’t here’ they had told everyone in the office, and oh boy did you pretend. 

It was Max’s fault, 100%. The undisclosed but very apparent relationship between you two was known to everyone at Red Bull at this point, but not the new video crew coming in. And Drive to Survive lives for the dramatics. 

While it wasn’t explicit, a few clips of hand holding (initiated by Max), a kiss on the cheek (given to you by Max), and multiple clips of Max looking at you with nothing but heart eyes, it was hard for anyone watching to ignore. 

Once the new season came out, fans very quickly caught onto all of the content of the two of you that DTS was trying to be sneaky about putting in. That then led to ‘internet sleuths’ finding all of the behind the scenes content they could get of both of you, and then finding your account you had left public thinking no one would care about the random Red Bull media girl. How stupid you were.

“Max, what the fuck are we supposed to do? Do I delete my account and hope people forget?” You asked, stressed by the sudden spotlight.

“That would just make it worse and make them less likely to forget. We will just have to… be honest, give people enough content to keep them satisfied but not spoiled into needing more.”

He was right. It was almost laughable how he was the voice of reason in this situation when media presence was your job. That is how everything started.

There were no ‘official wag paddock walks’, you were too busy working to be Max’s arm candy before a race. But there were a few photos here and there, your team even posted a few BTS moments of the two of you.

“All you have to do is describe the food you are eating to Checo so he can guess.” You explained to Max for the fourth time, but he was still not listening as he was far too busy appreciating the view of the beautiful woman he got the privilege of calling his girlfriend. “Do you understand?”

As Sergio nudged Max, he responded with a quick, “Yes got it”

“Do not say the name of what you are eating.”

“Yes, yes we know.” He absentmindedly said as the two drivers put on their blindfolds. 

Everyone let out a breath of relief as Max went to lift the spoon to his mouth, the entire crew antsy to finish what was supposed to be a quick video before Max ruined it with his heart eyes and lack of comprehension to anything that came out of your mouth. 

“What the fuck! It’s ketchup!” Max exclaimed as everyone groaned.

“Max, you weren’t supposed to say that!”

“I thought I was guessing what it was! That's why I had the blindfold, no?”

They were in for a long day of shooting.

Max had started a stream, hoping to make it quick so he could join you in bed. Unfortunately, when viewers saw that you were walking through the background, they wouldn’t give up until you joined, so neither of you had much of a choice.

Despite how obvious it was that the two of you were together, neither of you had confirmed the status of your relationship. This led to having to ignore about three quarters of the comments you both were getting on the stream.

“Would you like a Red Bull?” Max asked, 45 minutes into what seemed to be a never ending stream.

“No it’s too late, I’ll go get a water-”

“Nope you stay there i'll get it.” Max said, antsy for an excuse to take a moment to himself. The amount of comments about the two of you were starting to piss him off.

He returned to the room to see you answering questions and, while still off camera, he set down the glass and waved to get your attention.

‘End it’ he mouthed, making prayer motions with his hands.

You simply shook your head, you had been having more fun talking to people than he had.

‘Please, I want to go to bed with you’ he mouthed back, wiggling his eyebrows in hopes of conveying he wanted to do much more than simply go to bed. You couldn’t stop the giggle that left your mouth at that.

Seeing all the viewers confused, you simply responded, “Sorry, my coworker was harassing me” which had you giggling again as you saw Max get visibly annoyed at his new title.

“Okay guys, bye.” Was all Max said as he quickly returned to the view of the camera and turned off the stream. He then turned to face you, saying nothing as he dragged you to the bedroom, holding you close as he pushed you down onto the bed with him, causing more giggles to leave your mouth/

Giggles which he quickly stopped with a kiss. And then another. And then another.

The makeout session was in full swing when Max finally remembered why he was annoyed.

Quickly pulling away from you, much to your chagrin, he asked, “Coworkers? Is that all we are now?” He teased.

Giving him a less passionate but more loving kiss this time, you responded with, “Something like that” as you both started to remove your clothes.

[fangswbenefits]

The Arrangement (1)

Summary: You managed to convince Astarion not to go through with the rite of profane ascension. He remains a vampire spawn, and you now offer your blood from time to time to help with his sanguine hunger until a solution is found. Even though you had both decided to stay as friends back in Moonrise Towers, lines begin to blur once more as other cravings come to the surface… and things with Astarion are seldom uncomplicated.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Word count: 6k

Warnings: 18+. Endgame spoilers. Blood drinking. Mutual pining. Biting. S*xual tension. Mentions of past trauma.

Series masterlist . AO3

"He's upstairs."

You nodded curtly, but before you could turn in your heels and head to the wooden staircase, you felt a hand grip at your arm.

"He hasn't been paying his due," Bork, the Blushing Mermaid tavern's publican, said with a rise of his brows.

"Noble room again?"

"Yes."

As expected. Astarion would sooner be caught dead again than having to stay at a merchant or peasant room.

He adored all things lavish and that extended to his accommodations, naturally.

"I'll cover for it," you said, snatching your arm away. "How much?"

He bared his yellow teeth. "Thirty gold pieces."

You felt Shadowheart's burning gaze on you. She didn't approve of you cleaning after him. Especially since her protective instinct dragged her along with you every single time.

"Very well," you said through gritted teeth, rummaging through your pouch, and handing him the expected amount. 

"Good," the older man said with a twirl of his kitchen knife. "If your pale friend does it again, he's done for."

Threats like this would usually warrant you to bare your dagger or cast a less friendly spell, but you couldn't afford to cause a scene.

Not in front of so many onlookers. 

You felt Shadowheart briefly tense up by your side. "Do hurry up. I shall wait for you."

Nodding, you gave her an assuring nod before heading up the staircase. 

The first floor was reserved for the highest paying customers, and it was heavily decorated and with candles spreading along the narrow corridor.

You paced quickly along the wooden floor, already knowing where to find him.

Room 7.

At this point, you were already over common pleasantries, so you skipped knocking at the door and just barged inside.

You heard a sleepy groan from the crimson bed placed at the centre of the luxurious room.

Astarion wasn't alone.

He was laying on top of the silk sheets, flipping through a book, seemingly undisturbed by your sudden appearance. Curiously enough, he was fully clothed, wearing a frill shirt and his regular trousers. 

However, the woman next to him was very much fully naked, with only a blanket draping over her bare torso.

The sight made your stomach twist and turn.

"Hello, darling," he said casually as if you had just walked in on him picking flowers. 

She peeked over her shoulder with a horrified look spreading across her pleasant face.

Of course she was extremely attractive.

She let out a shriek. "Do you mind?"

"No," you said dryly.

She immediately rolled out of bed, shooting a murderous glance your way, while scrambling to collect her belongings from the carpeted floor.

The door snapped shut behind her, and you were already pacing toward his bedside table once you spotted his coinpurse.

"Happy, are you? You scared her off, poor thing," he shook his head, feigning disapproval.

"You owe me."

You reached out to grab the thick pouch, but caught sight of the glint of a blade and the cool touch of metal being pressed gently against the back of your hand. 

Typical.

"Ah-ah-ah..." he tutted with a click of his tongue. "Where are your manners?"

He seemed very serious all of a sudden, but you knew better. "I'll hex you."

"Faster than me piercing through your skin?" he asked, tapping the flat side of the blade playfully on your skin.

You really did consider hexing him for a split second just out of spite. "You overestimate your abilities."

"And you could have cursed me already, but are too lost in my dashing good looks."

Your jaw dropped in utter disbelief.

"That lovely mouth of yours could never compete with my agile fingers."

The insinuation wasn't even subtle, and it was enough to make your blood boil.

You scowled deeply at him, shoving his dagger out of the way. "Thirty gold pieces."

He slipped the blade under his pillow again with a devious grin.

"Bork was rather eager to have at you, so I just paid him. Maybe next time I won't intervene."

"And what would he do? Kill me again?"

Point taken.

A dangerous smile danced across his lips. "And here I thought you intended to start charging me for our arrangement."

You glared at him intensely, feeling momentarily outraged. "You're the one profiting off of it. Entirely."

"Hmm, debatable."

You narrowed your eyes. "If anything, you should be paying me, no?"

He snatched the coinpurse from your grasp, tugging it open before handing you a few gold pieces. 

"Here you go, darling. Sixty gold pieces," he said, voice dripping with amusement. "Buy yourself a new attire, while you're at it."

You glanced down the length of your body, arching a brow and straightening your shirt and trousers. "What's wrong with my clothes?"

Astarion scoffed. "I don't even know where to begin, but do not fret. You could be wearing nothing but a rotting sack of potatoes, and I would still not be deterred from your neck."

You pressed your lips tightly together, and glanced at the gold pieces in your hand. "Your sweet-talking skills have been slightly below par as of late."

He chuckled, crossing his hands behind his head and against the meticulously wooden-carved headboard. "Yet here you are."

Not that you had much of a choice, really.

Halving the sum of money he had given you, you shoved the rest in your pocket while placing the other half on the table.

"Keep it."

"Don't be ridiculous," you groaned.

"Working on your flattery, I see?"

He was enjoying this far too much, and the more you talked back, the more you instigated him to continue.

"Why don't you just pay him when he asks for it?"

"Oh, darling…"

Here we go…

He was casually checking his hands, putting on his condescending demeanour. "Patience is a virtue he clearly lacks. If I'm to live eternally, I might as well teach these commoners some manners."

"Or you just adore getting on people's nerves," you said with a sly smile.

He grinned so wide, you caught a glimpse of his razor-sharp fangs peeking through. "You know me too well."

You used to think so.

Now, you weren't so sure.

Clearing your throat, you looked around the dimly lit room until your eyes settled on the large majestic bed. "She was really pretty."

"You sound surprised."

"Not at all. She does fit your type."

He laughed dramatically, further grinding your nerves. "I have a type?"

You gave him a look.

"You mean outrageously beautiful and undeniably entertaining?" he asked innocently. "Like you?"

Your heart jolted.

His method of seduction was deemed nigh pristine, and a few weeks ago, you would have maybe fallen hard for this level of charm.

But not anymore.

Well, for the most part…

"She was not outrageously beautiful."

He placed on hand at his chest, feigning hurt. "First you rob me, and now you question my taste in beauty. I'm not entirely sure my dead heart can take much more of this."

You huffed, crossing your arms before glancing out the window. The full moon lit up the street below, as the night began to draw out those who preferred to keep to the shadows.

And those who had no choice but to do so.

Like Astarion.

"I didn't do it."

His voice startled you and you stared at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"

He paused briefly. "I didn't do anything with her, if that's what you're thinking. There is an odd comfort in being surrounded by beauty, even if only to glare at, and nothing else."

Your heart clenched at how vulnerable he sounded all of a sudden. His pleasing face held an expression that you'd seen many times before…

Guilt.

The ripple effects of centuries of torture and abuse still slipped through the cracks of his usual pompous demeanour.

"Your personal matters are your own, Astarion. No need to justify yourself."

He stared at you in silence for a moment, and the urge to reach out to embrace him nearly took over.

Until his features began to twist into a light frown. "Don't look at me like that. I can't stand it."

"Like what?"

"That look. Pity. Spare me," he groaned with a roll of his eyes.

You weren't surprised in the slightest that he went into his defensive mode so rapidly.

He would fluctuate so often around you these days, that it gave you whiplash. Some days, he would let his guard down and allow you in, while others were plagued with him having a brick wall up around him if you happened to breathe in the wrong direction.

You had learned how to navigate through his tough exterior when the two of you traveled together, and as he opened more and more to you.

It all culminated when you offered your help against Cazador, and having him make the decision not to go through with the ritual that would doom so many souls – including his own — in the process.

He had thanked you for saving him from himself.

But nowadays, talking to him was like walking on eggshells while simultaneously dancing around his weathervane mood.

It was as if your relationship had somewhat soured over the past few weeks, and all the remnants of a solid friendship were now beginning to crack.

"You know, you don't have to be here," you said softly, trying to disperse the tension. "You are more than welcome to stay with us."

Astarion snickered darkly. "And having to endure that dullard? Please. I'd rather stake myself, darling."

You rolled your eyes and heaved a sigh at the targeted provocation.

"Gale is not a dullard. He is quite inter-"

But he began to part his mouth into a forced yawn. "Boring already! See, this is what happens when you choose to surround yourself with such unstimulating company – it spreads, and you used to be so much fun," he finished with a dramatic pout.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you sent him a death glare. "He's not the only one there."

There was a hint of amusement gleaming in his eyes. "Oh, yes! How could I forget Shadowheart and her magnificent ability to bore me." He swung his feet off the bed, standing gracefully. "Or perhaps you mean Lae'zel? She's clearly in debt to whichever god bestows a sense of humour."

An added layer of defense: sarcasm.

No one wielded it quite like Astarion, which also proved to be a major inconvenience when trying to win an argument. 

I'm also there, you wanted to say, but chose to remain silent.

Deep down, you detested how you still longed for his company. Even after so many weeks had gone by. Even when he seemed so averse to it outside of this… arrangement.

Your relationship had been reduced to nothing more than a transaction.

Once again.

Your blood for his hunger to be quenched even if only momentarily.

"Or are you referring to yourself?" he mused, pacing towards you while adjusting his shirt.

It was extremely infuriating that he could see through you so easily.

"Let's get this over with, then," you said, words stinging in your throat.

He offered a faint smile, as he came to stand before you. "I must say, our weekly encounters are nothing short of exciting," he brought his fingers to your jaw, tilting your head gently as his eyes roamed across your neck. "And I am positively famished."

You felt a gentle tug at the collar or your shirt, and glanced down to see him undoing the buttons with just one hand. 

All those years of honing his dexterity were bound to come in handy at the most convenient of times,  and Astarion would never shy away from displaying his expertise.

Your senses were suddenly hit with the faint scent of bergamot, rosemary, and aged brandy.

His scent.

The same that once brought you comfort through the toughest of times.

But now…

"Which side will it be this time?"

You swallowed hard, shuddering. "You decide."

He caressed your neck tenderly, tipping your head to the opposite side, half-hooded eyes roaming across your exposed skin.

"Ever so generous."

You huffed in annoyance. "Astarion."

He didn't need to be warned twice, and you soon felt his soft lips brush across your skin, as he searched for your steady pulse. The contact made you jolt slightly and he took your hands in his, placing them at his waist.

"Hold on, darling," he whispered, as his breath fanned your flushed skin, before darting out his agile tongue and enclosing his lips around the selected area.

You had let him feed on you many times before, but the flutter was ever present. It wasn't out of fear or concern that he might take it too far. He never did. But the knowledge that you were, once again, involved in something so intimate truly gnawed at your nerves.

As soon as you felt the initial sting, you balled your fists, gripping the fabric of his shirt tight, as you hissed in pain. 

He held your jaw in between his fingers whilst his other hand was firmly pressed to the back of your head, making sure you were anchored in place.

Astarion moaned first – a muffled and deep sound that reverberated across his lips with each mouthful of blood he downed.

Your eyes dropped close all of a sudden and he  pressed his body against yours, acting purely on the instinct driven by his bloodlust. 

And just like all those times before, you began to feel it.

With each passing second, the all too familiar and ever-growing pressure in your lower abdomen became harder and harder to ignore.

He had once revealed how your blood worked like an aphrodisiac whenever he drank from you; how he couldn't keep his body from reacting to it, and, ultimately, to you. After all, you had been the first thinking creature he had ever fed on. 

As such, you had grown accustomed to his erection being pressed firmly against you – a constant reminder of how easy it was for him to make you yearn for more.

Whatever pain you had left from the initial bite, had morphed into a very subtle wave of pleasure that spread from between your legs.

You cursed inwardly, tugging harder at his shirt.

You didn't wish for your body to be so… primal. 

Even with blood being drained from you, and the act itself being considered so profane, it was still a much welcome moment of intimacy that you had come to embrace. 

A soft roll of his hips lulled you into him like a moth to a flame. Your body struggled with fading from the blood loss as well with the increasing throb between your thighs.

At this point, you couldn't help but moan softly as he eased his grip on you until he had fully withdrawn his teeth from you. 

Your eyes fluttered open and you had to blink twice to disperse the haziness blurring your vision.

Crimson red tainted his lips, and droplets of the warm liquid threatened to spill over. The sight of him revelling in your blood used to make your stomach turn, but now it had morphed into a habit.

But what truly caught your attention was how he looked faintly… displeased?

He lowered his head, crimson eyes locking in with yours. 

"That was quick," you whispered, struggling to ease your throbbing clit, as his erection was still very much pressed against you.

But now he was frowning. 

Suddenly, you felt experienced fingertips trailed across your lower abdomen, casually teasing the hem of your waistband.

You sucked in a breath, chills sprawling all over your body, as he began to trace down your thigh, just where your dagger was resting.

"What are you–"

He pressed a long finger to his blood-stained lips and you swallowed, his eyes darkening. "We have company."

Before you could process his words, you felt your dagger being yanked swiftly from its sheath. With a languid shift of his feet, you watched as he threw the sharp blade across the room.

Just as it cut through the air, the large wooden door began to swing open and Shadowheart came into view.

The dagger landed dangerously close to her head, the tip carving into the wood and wobbling faintly.

She frowned slightly. "You missed."

He darted out his tongue to collect droplets of blood. "Did I?"

She looked positively unimpressed by such a display of skill, even one that could have easily maimed her.

But he had deliberately missed.

Of course he had.

You caught a glimpse of Astarion's reddened ears – the ultimate proof that he had recently fed, and one that, somehow, sent a shiver down your spine.

The bloodless effect was also beginning to take a hold of your body, as dizziness spread more and more.

Snapping out of your transfixed gaze, you hurriedly brought the handkerchief in your pocket to apply some pressure to your bleeding wound.

"Stealth was never your forte, darling," Astarion mused, visibly annoyed. "You're about as subtle as a pack of gnolls."

A teasing smile parted her lips. "You have such a way with words."

He grinned deviously. "It's called being eloquent, dear Shadowheart. Not that you'd know anything about that."

"I was taught to converse with others without constantly resorting to sarcasm," she mused, hurling your dagger back at him. "Not that you'd know anything about that."

As expected, he caught it in between his fingers with little to no effort, twirling it easily with the expertise that only centuries of practice could provide.

He clicked his tongue. "No wonder you're so tedious. But… eavesdropping? My, my… how unbecoming of you, darling."

A flash of surprise crossed her face. "I - I was doing no such thing! I merely decided to make sure everything was all right." Her face softened as she turned to you, her usual caring nature surfacing. "Do you need any healing?"

You smiled warmly at her, patting the pouch at your hip. "No need, thank you. Brought the scroll of Lesser Restoration you gave me."

Astarion scoffed.

Shadowheart ignored him. "I ought to go. Gale needs my assistance with some letters he's received from Waterdeep," she said, straightening up to her default stoic pose. "I trust you're quite done here."

You nodded, clearing your throat.

"What, you're not joining us for a nibble?" Astarion pouted dramatically.

"Over my dead body."

He looked as amused as ever. "That can certainly  be arranged. Though I prefer fresh blood… right from the source."

Her features hardened once more and you decided to intervene. "Will you stop it? You're like a cat with its claws out."

Astarion snapped his head at you. "Excuse me? Claws?"

"Would it kill you - well, again - not to be so damn abrasive all the time?" 

He groaned sheepishly. "She interrupted my feeding. It can be quite hard to resist the urge to behead her."

Shadowheart's gaze dropped to his lower half with the slightest uptick of one corner of her mouth. "By the looks of it, Astarion, you have other hardships to concern yourself with."

A rush of heat spread across your face as you followed her line of sight and were met by the very prominent outline of his erection strained against his trousers.

He turned around, mumbling curses under his breath to adjust himself, and Shadowheart looked at you with a triumphant smile.

It wasn't an easy feat to silence Astarion, yet she had achieved it so gracefully.

"I'll see you later, I suppose," she mused and you nodded. "It was rather entertaining seeing you again, Astarion."

He threw her an infuriating glance over his shoulder.

By the time she had closed the door behind her, you were already taking the scroll into your hands and whispering the incantation, as the paper scroll began to disintegrate itself.

A wave of warmth spread through your hands, before engulfing your body in it. Strength and heightened senses gradually returned to you as the lasting effects of him feeding on you dispersed. 

From the corner of your eye, you spotted him glaring at you with a visible sulk. 

"I'll come back next week."

"Leaving already?" He asked, fake heartbreak twisting his features and voice. "Was wondering if you could, perhaps, give me a hand."

He handed you your dagger, which you promptly slid back inside its sheath.

Your eyes then widened at his not so subtle suggestion.

Uncertainty boiled deep within you, and you had to muster your will to keep yourself from immediately leaving.

Astarion's healing path had been one he had decided to tread alone. The relationship he had with sex had been the reason you two had decided to be as friends and nothing more. You had fallen hard for him – or his deceit – but you figured what he truly needed was a friend and not a lover.

And so you left your infatuation for him behind.

It was better off this way.

But now… watching him fall back to his usual charming advances made you somewhat wary. Was he back to forcing himself to seek intimacy with his body, because he still couldn't do it effectively in any other way? Was he simply feeling more at ease?

You met his sultry gaze and cleared your throat. "Well, I'm sure you can ask that outrageously beautiful woman to help you out, if that is what you truly seek."

That seemed to have caught him by surprise, and he cocked his head. "What?"

"She seemed positively distraught for having to leave your company so early," you said, dragging the handkerchief down your neck to wipe off the trail of blood.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Do I detect a hint of jealousy, darling?"

"Delusion does not suit you, darling."

He took a few steps towards you until you could see the crimson of his eyes flicker as they studied your face.

Your stomach turned.

The proximity made you feel vulnerable and you immediately felt naked under his burning gaze. 

Astarion had over two centuries of practice when it came to reading others. It wasn't an easy feat to deceive him, and you were no exception.

"We traveled together for so long and I can safely say I never took you for a liar – perhaps too soft-hearted for my liking, but not a liar."

"I did not lie," you shot back, lifting your chin in defiance. "I can offer you my friendship and even my blood, but I'm not so sure about anything else."

He heaved a deep sigh.

"I just fed on you and the bloodlust can be quite… overwhelming," he confessed. "I usually take care of it myself, but you did taste absolutely exquisite tonight, what can I say?"

That caught you off guard.

"What do you mean? Take care of…" your voice trailed off as realization hit you.

Oh.

Oh.

Astarion clicked his tongue. "Don't act so surprised. You can feel it whenever I'm feeding, can't you?" He took another step back and only came to a halt once your back was pressed against the carved-wood wall. "There is only so much I can withstand with your delicious blood coursing through my body, darling."

You swallowed hard. 

He was being particularly firm on his advances tonight. You were used to his occasional flirtatious remarks whenever he fed on you ever since the arrangement took place. However, this was bringing things to a whole new level.

One that you hadn't expected you'd reach ever again with him.

Somehow, you managed to find your voice. "Maybe you should stop feeding on me, then?"

A weightless taunt, obviously.

Crimson eyes darted all over your face as if studying you. He remained silent for what seemed like an eternity, before the corner of his mouth curled into an intriguing smile.

He had seen immediately right through it.

"If that is what you wish, then so be it," he said in a rather dismissive tone, but still towering over you.

You arched a brow. "That's it?"

"Darling, as immortal as I am, I do not beg," he continued, now tracing around the fresh bite marks on your skin with uncharacteristic tenderness. "I will surely find other exquisite necks to sink my teeth into."

His words carried a hint of a threat, which unsettled you. 

"That was not the arrangement, Astarion," you said with a scowl. "It's either wild animals or my blood."

His fingertips paused at your pulse point, and you were certain he could feel the throbbing increasing rapidly. "How possessive of you, my dear," he mused playfully. "Although, I am quite sure you are aware that many do carry fantasies with vampires."

You pressed your lips together in a silent reply.

A man as attractive as Astarion was bound to allure all sorts of attention. When passing through Moonrise Towers, the drow Araj had tried to have him bite her in exchange for a rather powerful potion, but you had assured him that you did not demand anything against his will.

The memory still left a sour taste in your mouth.

But he did have a point.

Vampires could be regarded as a taste of the forbidden, and he could certainly deliver it.

"That was not the arrangement," you repeated through gritted teeth, deciding to ignore his previous remark.

His eyes narrowed dangerously in an instant.

"'The arrangement'," he mocked, inching near and pinning you frozen against the wall with the weight of his burning stare. "Does dear Wyll know that I haven't been exclusively feeding on wild animals? Because that was the arrangement, darling," his face drew closer and his cool breath fanned your skin.

Upon becoming Duke of Baldur's Gate, Wyll had agreed to allow Astarion to reside within its walls, but not without assuring he posed no danger to others.

But then you decided to volunteer in aiding him until a solution to his vampiric condition could be found. Hopefully, it wouldn't take too long to find something useful. 

Your research had led to a couple of enchanted items, but those were rare to come by. A wish spell seemed to be the easiest way, but even as a sorcerer and with Gale's help, it would be extremely challenging.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. "He does. He knows blood from thinking creatures sates you more effectively, so he allows it for the time being."

He scoffed, dropping his hand from your neck. "How very thoughtful of him, indeed."

"This is what friends do."

He sneered at you. "Friends do not hand out ultimatums. Care to revive my memory?" His lips almost brushed against yours and you didn't dare take a breath. "I am to wag my tail like an obedient pup as I wait for a solution to this minor inconvenience, all the while enclosed in a golden cage."

Impatience gripped your nerves ferociously. "These things take time, Astarion."

"Oh, my darling… I have all the time in the world, but you only have a limited supply of blood," he whispered softly and you could almost taste his taunting words.

He drew back slightly, his glare so intense you felt yours waver and drop, catching a glimpse of his sharp canines. "We are actively looking for a solution. Gale is also making some progress-"

He pressed a finger to your lips, effectively silencing you.

"Do not make the mistake of thinking I am faulting you," he said, his face suddenly softening, as he caressed your lower lip. "If anything, you are the only reason I was ever able to kill Cazador."

He was being sincere, and that was what made your heart drop to your stomach. 

"You have my eternal gratitude."

You shuddered under his touch, feeling your breath quicke, as his other hand trailed down your neck until it was resting just above your left breasts and beating heart.

He was too good at this…

Unfairly so.

"Wyll ought to allocate more of his resources into aiding me, don't you think? After all, you are the one at risk here," he continued. "I know he cares not for me, but I could have ascended and bent Baldur's Gate to my will… if not for your intervention."

"I'm not at risk," you said with a roll of your eyes. "And if you drink more than what you need, then you know the consequences."

His eyes dropped to your cleavage as he began to caress the flushed skin. With each deep breath you took, you pushed more of your breasts into him, further igniting the heat between your legs.

"Promises, promises… unfortunately for you, darling, your words don't match your body."

Fuck you. "You're impossible."

He slowly dipped his head until his lips grazed yours. "You would stake me?"

Never. 

"I would."

He chuckled. "You would stake me as I sink my teeth into your darling neck and feast on your divine blood?" 

No. "Yes."

But his smile only widened as amusement settled on his face. "I can't think of a better way to part this world for good."

Your mouth parted slightly in surprise, and he rolled his hips into you, earning a soft gasp.

You half-expected him to finally take your lips, but he tilted his head instead to press a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

And your body nearly imploded as old sensations resurfaced.

Fuck.

"You're so sweet…" he whispered with a sigh, as he began to graze along your jaw, taking your hands in his and planting them on his waist. "So warm… the gods above could never do you justice." He continued in between light kisses with his hips matching the pace.

As your eyes fluttered shut, you lost track of how eagerly your hands tugged at the hem of his shirt, fingers brushing impatiently against the waistband of his trousers.

Astarion groaned softly, helping you with the inconvenient lacing at the front. "And here I thought I was the starving one."

He always talked way too much and had a natural talent for doing so at the least opportune time. 

"Can you shut up for once?"

"Gladly," he said as he quickly took your lips in his, muffling your groan of protest.

Reason told you to halt everything once. That you were taking things too fast, and that there was no need to indulge in such depravities.

But you had missed this.

You missed having him so close that he completely overtook your senses. 

The kiss turned rougher and his tongue soon found yours. Instinct guided you as you succumbed to the vicious grip of desire, and you pressed yourself further into him.

It was almost embarrassing how wet you already were and how intensely your swollen clit was pulsing. Your body was already readying itself for him to be buried inside you, and you shuddered at the prospect of it.

Your tongue darted into his mouth and your eagerness had it glide across one of his sharp fangs, and you felt a sting of pain as you accidentally drew blood.

"Fuck," you grumbled, breaking the kiss at once.

The familiar taste of metal began to pool in your mouth, and you felt gentle fingers grip your jaw tight, as he titled your head back.

"I would apologise, but it was your own doing," he said with a smile, hunger in his eyes. "So let's not allow it to go to waste, hm?"

And then he pressed his lips against yours, immediately parting them with his experienced tongue, in search of the warm liquid he so badly craved.

The cut wasn't deep or wide enough to cause much to spill, but it was certainly enough for him to let out a beautiful moan of delight, as he lapped at your blood.

Your hands gripped the front of his trousers, the lacing now undone and offering you the opportunity to feel him, and he was kissing you so ardently, that your mind was completely clouded by all of him.

Testing the waters, you caressed his cock through the fabric.

He immediately parted from you to let out a delicious hiss, as he rolled his hips into the palm of your hand.

Astarion was incredibly hard, but just as you were about to slide it inside to grip him, he caught your wrist and held it firmly in place.

And everything halted all at once.

Your eyes found his, and he seemed… distant.

Concern washed over you. "Astarion?"

He was frozen, eyes fixed on the floor.

As he eased his grip on you, it became apparent that he wasn't listening to you.

Fuck.

You brought one hand to grip his shoulder. "Astarion…"

He shook his head lightly. "Give me a moment, darling."

The way the last word drawled out of his lips, made your heart clench violently. It was so instinctive for him, that you doubted he even realised he had uttered it.

You stood still, unsure of what to do to help.

The two of you remained silent for a few moments. You kept your hold on his shoulder, gently caressing it in an attempt to bring him some comfort.

Then you felt rage swirl in you.

Cazador had warped him in such a way and for so long, that the ramifications of his abuse on Astarion seeped so deep and gripped him so tight, causing you to feel nothing but anger.

You took a deep breath, and carefully placed your hands on either side of his face, slowly guiding him to meet your eyes.

He looked broken.

"I apologise."

You caressed his cool skin with your thumbs, shaking your head. "There is nothing to apologise for. Ever. Do you hear me?"

He tilted his head until his forehead touched yours. "I really wanted this."

Even though the two of you had grown apart over the past few weeks as he had distanced himself, you couldn't think of anyone else who had such a hold on you.

With one hand drifting along his soft curls, you pulled him further into a hug, which he promptly embraced, lacing his hands behind your back.

This was your Astarion.

The one who made it so easy to love and care for him.

"Sometimes what we want is not what we need."

His cheek was pressed to the side of your head and you heard a faint chuckle. "So poetic. I reckon Volo has competition."

"Your mind goes to Volo when holding me? Is there something you wish to tell me, Astarion?" you teased lightly.

He patted your back twice before letting go.

"Guilty as charged," he mused, slipping back into his usual antics.

He crossed the room, tying the laces of his trousers before plopping himself on the bed with a stretch of his arms.

"I'm sure you're exhausted. Maybe you should go back to that dullard friend of yours," he said with a sly grin.

His words hit you hard and your face dropped. "I can stay a little longer…"

He picked up the book next to him, examining the cover. "Whatever for? I'm perfectly fine, darling."

Now, this was not your Astarion.

Cold. Distant. Impenetrable.

The one who pushed you away whenever you attempted to bridge the gap that had come in between you two. 

He focused his attention on the book in his hands and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

"Very well."

You composed yourself, and headed to the door, not even bothering to exchange another look.

"Thank you for the meal, and for… well, you know."

You nodded, feeling the overwhelming urge to just leave. "See you next week, then."

He didn't reply.

You rushed out of the room, feeling the familiar prickle of tears in your eyes, and you tried to convince yourself it was better off this way.

That he needed time and space.

That he didn't need you.

By the time you crossed the crowded lounge of the tavern, you crossed paths with that woman again.

She locked eyes with you, a faint smile curving her lips, as she rose to her feet from her chair, probably heading back to him.

She truly was a sight to behold, no doubt.

But what tore your heart was realising that, even after everything you'd been through with Astarion, he still favoured her company over yours. 

Next chapter

Masterlist . Series masterlist. AO3

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Hey love I absolutely love your fics 🥰 I was wondering if you could write a dark toxic romance for Lando or Charles or even Logan where she’s the girl next door??? I love you keep it up ❤️

Crazy For You || LN4

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, implied smut, gaslighting, dub/con, dark themes WC: 4k Part one || part two || part three || part four

It had been two months since you moved into your apartment in Monaco and you still hadn’t managed to introduce yourself to your neighbour. He kept strange hours and seemed to be away more than he was there. From what you had glimpsed, you had been delighted to see he was probably around your age and quite handsome in an innocent way. Mr Riley on the other hand was a stoic old man who only spoke to you when your cat climbed over the balcony and into his space.

Known for its year-round beauty and calm climate, Monaco had welcomed you with a comfortable breeze and enough sun to warrant leaving the house without a jacket, even at dusk on a winter's night. If you had checked the weather reports you would have seen that a storm was quickly blowing in from the coast - arriving by the time you had finished having a few cocktails with your new friends. 

Christmas lights twinkled around the shop fronts as you exited the bar and nutcrackers stood proud in doorways. You always loved Christmas and seeing the smiles it put on children’s faces but there were no children out this late. 

“Are you sure you don’t want a ride?” Luke asked as he twirled his keys around his finger. “It’s about to start raining.”

“She’s good,” someone answered for you and you looked over to see your elusive neighbour at your side, his hand coming to rest in the small of your back. “I can take her home.”

“You didn’t tell us Lando was picking you up.”

Your mouth was dry and you didn’t know what to say as the liquor, or his presence, left you confused. Lando, you stored that piece of information away and tried to figure out why it sounded so familiar. 

“I was just out doing some Christmas shopping and about to head home,” he said with a smile. “Ready?”

“Uh, yeah,” you mumbled as you let him guide you away from your friends.

“Are you sure?” Luke asked with a frown. “You don’t look comfortable. Do you even know him?”

“Kind of, I’m just surprised,” you assured him. “Lando is my neighbour.”

“Okay, well, text me when you get home.”

You gave Luke a nod and waved to the others before going your separate ways.

“Are you cold?” Lando asked, already slipping his arms out of the jacket he wore over a dark hoodie. 

The alcohol had made you numb to the temperature but you let him drape it over your shoulders anyway, wrapping you in the decadent scent that came along with it. 

“Thanks.”

“Any time, it’s what neighbours do.”

“I don’t think Mr Riley would,” you teased.

“The grumpy old guy in 4C? We just call him Carl, like the movie Up.”

You smiled awkwardly and toyed with the zip on the jacked. “I’ve never seen it.”

“What?” He pulled you to a stop and grabbed your shoulders with a serious look on his face. “This just won’t do. I cannot be seen with someone who hasn’t watched Up!”

“Oh,” you mumbled as you started to take off his jacket and hand it back. 

“What are you doing, you muppet?” He grabbed the jacket and put it back on your shoulders before opening the door to a very expensive looking car. 

“I thought you meant…”

“It’s fine, I have tinted windows,” he teased. “As soon as we get home though, we’re watching the movie.”

Lando followed you inside without an invitation but you could hardly turn him away with his boyish smile and mop of curly hair that sprung out of his hoodie when he pushed it back. “This makes sense,” he chuckled as he stuck his head in the bedroom, pointing to the wall that your bed was pushed against. “Our apartments are mirrored. I thought I woke up to a voice a few times. Do you watch Friends?”

Your head tilted at the odd question. “Why do you ask?”

“You sing ‘smelly cat’ a lot.”

Mortification hit you and you felt your face burn as you turned to the culprit walking through your house with a loud purr. “That’s Eddie. Do you have any pets?”

“No, I’m always travelling for work and I’m not very good at looking after myself let alone another living thing. Do you actually know how to use those things?”

You looked at the kitchen where he was pointing to the appliances. You had planned to make some Christmas cookies over the weekend and had the stand mixer ready on the benchtop. You thought he was joking but he was genuinely intrigued by the inquisitive look of wonder on his face. “Cooking relaxes me,” you said with a shrug. “You probably have plans already but if you want to come over and-”

“Absolutely, say no more, I’m in.” He crossed the living room and dropped into the middle cushion of the three seater sofa and patted the space beside him with one hand, the other reaching for the remote. “You do have Disney+, right?”

 “You really do like to make yourself comfortable, don’t you,” you joked as you took a seat beside him. 

“I’ve been told I can be a bit much,” he said with a small frown, placing the remote down. “Should I go?”

“No, no, I appreciate the company,” you said as you caught his arm to stop him from going. “Being alone in a new country is a little isolating, it’s nice having someone here.”

He settled back into the seat and sent you a grin as he searched for the movie. “Anytime you need someone to talk to, you can just knock three times.”

The weeks before Christmas were a madhouse. Work kept you busy as well as the many requests to go home for the holidays, but it just wasn’t going to be feasible to take leave so soon after starting. You knew your parents were going to be disappointed but you promised them you weren’t going to be alone for Christmas.

You had eventually found out why Lando’s name was so familiar when Luke explained who he was and why he was away so often. But since the race season was over he had plenty of time to spend at home, yours and his.

Just like every other evening, you knocked three times on the living room wall knowing Lando would be able to hear it despite the special Christmas Eve stream he was on. It was the last one of the year and he wished everyone a Merry Christmas before the live feed of him playing Counter Strike came to an end. 

“Ouch, Eddie, fuck,” Lando swore a few minutes later as he knocked at your door. “Stop it.”

You opened the door to the frequent occurrence and took the hissing Eddie from his outstretched arms before he could get clawed again. Your ginger cat seemed to hate Lando for some reason, or maybe it was because he was always bringing the escapee back home to you.

“I think you should just move in with me,” Lando joked as he followed the mouthwatering scent into your kitchen. He came to your house for dinner most nights after finding Eddie on his balcony and usually stayed for a movie. That routine had changed slightly when the movie he chose one night was Friends With Benefits. There had been a moment after a sex scene when you both looked across at each other and the idea had passed between your eyes. 

He cleared his throat and you realised you had been staring at him for too long. “Eddie likes my place better.”

It clicked, he wasn’t actually asking you to move in with him. But for a moment you had considered it.

“Right, Eddie,” you laughed at your idiocracy. “I really don’t know how he keeps getting out. I must be going crazy because I’m sure I locked the window this morning.���

You both looked at the window that opened onto the balcony, the skies dark with another storm. “Maybe your cat is a genius and learned how to open it?”

You rolled your eyes but managed a laugh at his attempt to make you feel better while you readied two plates and took them to the table where he sat. “Maybe I should change his name to Houdini.”

“Better than Ed the Ginger.” Lando grinned as he pulled you onto his lap and scooped up a dollop of creamy mash potato with his forefinger, holding it up to your mouth. You sealed your lips around his finger and swirled your tongue around the tip, watching the blue of his eyes be swallowed by his pupils. “Naughty girl, you’ll be getting coal this year.”

Your head fell back with a laugh.“Who are you? Santa Claus?”

“Well, you are sitting on my lap, aren’t you?” He winked and his tongue rolled across his bottom lip. “Wanna see my North Pole?”

“Oh my god, eat your dinner,” you giggled. “We still have to watch A Christmas Carol and Nightmare Before Christmas!”

You had both written a list of all the Christmas movies you wanted to watch and they were the last two left. It was just in time as midnight was going to come all too soon and you wanted to be tucked up warm in bed when the storm hit.

A loud crash had you jolting awake and you blindly reached across the bed in search of Lando to find it empty. Panic gripped you as you wondered if you were being broken into and a scream almost erupted when your light flipped on and Lando rushed in soaking wet. 

“Holy shit, you’ll never believe what just happened!”

You stumbled into the living room where Lando threw an arm out to save you from stepping on the glass that covered the floor. The doors that opened out onto your balcony had been completely shattered during the storm and you shivered as the cold wind and rain blew straight into your home. A huge puddle was quickly spreading across the carpet and it was making its way to the Christmas tree in the far corner while you were still in shock. 

“The presents!” 

Lando twisted away from the pot plant that had been on your balcony wall, now it lay on the floor with the dirt turning to mud. Seeing the urge you had to cut across the glass, he shook his head and pointed to the kitchen where you would remain safe. “I’ll get them.”

Lando carefully navigated his way to the tree, turning off the power to the glittering lights, and bundled the gifts up before hopping his way back with a wince. The wrapping paper on some of the presents were splattered with rain drops but most seemed in perfect condition when he placed them on the kitchen bench.

“You’re bleeding,” you gasped as he balanced on one foot and you wrapped an arm around his waist to help him. “There’s a first aid kit in my bathroom. Can you make it there?”

He nodded and limped with your help away from the mess. “I think you should come and stay at my place until the doors can be fixed.”

“Are you sure?” you asked as you carefully used a pair of tweezers to pull out the small sliver of glass in his foot. “I can just get a hotel.”

“Ouch,” he groaned as it came free and blood welled at the site. “Not on Christmas Day, everywhere will be fully booked. I really don’t mind. It would save you from having to pack a bag.”

“If you’re sure…”

He smiled at the silly Spider-Man bandaid you placed over the wound before running the back of his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I am.”

You shivered at his cold touch and remembered how wet he was when you woke up. “What were you doing up anyway?”

He bit his lip and looked away sheepishly. “I was putting a present under the tree when a flower pot blew through the door.”

“Oh, wow, that wind must be insane. I hope all the boats are safe out there,” you mused, knowing some people lived on the mariner. “Wait, you got me another present? Lando, there’s already too many.”

“I wanted to spoil you,” he said with an unapologetic shrug. “You have single handedly kept me fed for weeks. You may have put a few restaurants out of business too.”

“You weren’t that bad were you?”

“You have no idea,” he chuckled. After testing his foot he took your hand and led you back to the presents to find a thin box that hadn’t been under the tree when you went to bed. “It’s after midnight, you know, you could open it.”

You took the box, surprised by the weight it had, and untied the pretty bow on top. The delicate silver writing drew a gasp and you looked at Lando with wide eyes. “Tiffany? I can’t open this, it’s too much.”

“Go on,” he urged as he placed your hand on top of the lid and gave it a squeeze. “Please, for me.”

Your fingers slipped twice as you tried to open the hinge and Lando’s hand enveloped yours, lifting it open to reveal the beautiful necklace within. The teardrop gemstone was the same shade as his eyes and it hung from a white gold chain that was polished to shine impossibly bright, even in the dim light. 

“Lando, it’s beautiful,” you whispered in awe as he lifted it up and stepped behind you to drape it around your neck. The weight of the stone settled in the centre of your chest and you turned to face him with a sincere, “Thank you.”

“So..?” He bit his lip as he showed you the empty box, a question written in the silk lining. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

It wasn’t until the week after New Years that a glazier would be able to fix your doors. The holidays had left a backlog of people needing repairs but supply chains had been delayed too. Once the doors were finally fixed you realised the carpet was beyond repair and that took another week to have done.

It was strange to go back home after nearly three weeks of living in Lando’s apartment. It was too quiet.

“Babe, have you seen my hairbrush?” You had looked through the bathroom drawers he had cleared out for you to use but there was nothing left. You went back to your apartment and did another search but it wasn’t there either. It wasn’t the first thing you had lost going back and forth and you were beginning to worry.

“I’m sure it will turn up somewhere, love,” Lando said as he paused his game and turned to his friend in the simulator behind him. “Max probably used it.”

“Did not,” his friend replied with an indignant splutter. “Didn’t I see you singing into a hairbrush?”

“You’ve been experimenting with drugs again,” Lando snorted. With a resigned sigh, you decided your hair was decent enough to get away with at work and Lando tipped his head back so you could give him a kiss goodbye. “I’ll order dinner tonight. Chinese?”

“Sounds good,” you said as you gave Max a wave on the way to the door. “Try not to let him sit there all day, you know how his back gets.”

“Yes, yes, Lando has an old man’s back. I’ll make sure he moves his ass at some point,” Max joked. “Have fun at work.”

You screwed up your face at the sarcasm and their laughs followed you out of the apartment. You weren’t sure they had actually moved all day as they were still in the same spots when you got home. You had crossed paths with the delivery man in the lobby and your arms were laden with the takeaway Lando had ordered.

“How many spring rolls did you order?” you murmured as you kept unpacking more and more of the small styrofoam boxes with the treat.

“He’s going for a record,” Max said with a roll of his eyes. Ten minutes later Lando groaned, holding his stomach tightly. “I told you to stop.”

You had quickly showered and changed into some comfortable clothes and found most of the boxes empty when you joined them at the table. “How many has he had?”

“18, and he’s got no chance,” Max bet, reaching over to steal a spring roll for himself and swiping it through the sweet chilli sauce. “You’ll thank me later. Ah, fuck.” Max looked down at the red blotch on his white Quadrant shirt before sauntering off down the hall. “Mate, do you have any more stain remover? This one’s empty.”

“Yeah, under the sink there should be another bottle,” Lando yelled back, dropping his fork onto his plate in defeat. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Why the hell do you have cat food?” Max appeared in the living room with the same brand of pet food you bought for your cat. 

“That’s not mine, obviously.”

You looked at Lando, who was rubbing his full stomach and as reclined back as much as the chair would allow. “It’s not mine.”

“You brought it over during the storm, remember?”

“No I didn’t.” You hadn’t wanted to disrupt Eddie’s routine and fed him at home each morning before work.

“Yes, you did.” He laughed as he tapped your temple gently. “You have a terrible memory, love. You can’t even remember where you left your hairbrush.”

You didn’t have an argument for that, since you still hadn’t found it. You were sure you hadn’t brought any cat food over, but maybe he was right. You did seem to be a little confused lately.

“I think I need an early night,” you admitted as you cleaned up the dishes. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You’re not staying?” Lando asked with a pout as he joined you at the sink, wrapping his arms around your waist and peppered your neck with soft kisses. “Who am I going to cuddle with?”

“I’m sure Max wouldn’t mind a snuggle,” you teased him as you turned in his arms. “I have an early start tomorrow but I can stay tomorrow night.”

He groaned at the thought of sleeping alone and held you tighter so he could have you in his arms a little longer. “Fine,” he huffed, relinquishing his hold on you and filling the kettle. “I’ll make you a chamomile tea so you sleep better.”

You smiled at his sweetness and savoured a few more minutes of kisses before the water boiled and he scooped out a few spoons of some boutique tea leaf mix he swore was the best sleep tea money could buy. Given how rich he was, you believed him.

Placing the hot mug in your hand, he bit his swollen lip and nodded to the front door. “Go before I tie you to my bed and never let you leave.”

“You wouldn’t,” you laughed, rolling your eyes as he winked. “Goodnight, baby.”

“Goodnight, love, sweet dreams.”

Something disturbed your sleep and you rubbed your eyes as you woke up well before your alarm. You reached for the lamp beside your bed and accidently knocked into the cup of tea you hadn’t finished before falling asleep, the cold liquid sloshing over the side before you caught it and froze. 

Your bedroom door creaked open but it was too dark to see who it was. Your heart hammered in your chest as you tried to think of what to do before the shadow reached the edge of your bed. Your throat was so clogged with fear you couldn’t even scream, your hands trembled and closed them into fists before banging on the wall behind you, begging Lando would wake up at the sound.

Bang, bang, bang.

The figure lunged onto the bed, pinning you down with their weight and slamming your fists into the mattress. “Shh, love, it’s me.”

You relaxed as Lando’s voice soothed you, but the fear soon crept back up your spine with an icy shiver. “How did you get in here?”

“You forgot to lock your door,” he whispered as your wrists began to ache from the hold he had. “I was coming to check in on you.”

“No, I didn’t,” you said as you tried to shake him off. “I know I locked it. I know…I…I’m not crazy. Get off me, get off me right now.”

“You were meant to be asleep, love,” he groaned as his hands tightened to the point a pained cry escaped your gritted teeth. 

“Why are you doing this?” you whimpered as he kissed your neck, but you couldn’t feel anything but repulsion. 

“You should have just moved in with me, we are meant to be together.”

“You’re crazy,” you spat as you tried to buck your hips and throw him off but he was too strong. “Help! Somebody, help!”

His hand clamped over your mouth and you bit him as hard as you could before kicking and climbing away. 

“I’m not the crazy one, that’s you, love,” he laughed. “You’re my girlfriend, you’re sick, but I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

“You are fucking insane!”

“No, no, sweetheart, I’m trying to help you, remember?” 

You froze in the doorway as you saw a cutout of your key on the kitchen bench, along with your hairbrush, phone, a negligee and dressing gown. All things you had been convinced you had lost in the last few weeks.

“Why are you doing this?” you repeated as you backed away from your boyfriend. He was someone you had trusted, someone you thought had fit perfectly into your new life - but he had been messing with you this whole time. Max and the cat food came to mind. “Eddie…he used to go to Mr Riley’s house.”

“Couldn’t have that,” Lando tutted with a shake of his head as he took a step closer, “not when he was going to help me get close to you.”

“Don’t! Don’t come any closer to me!”

“Baby, don’t be like that, let’s just go back to bed. You’re under a lot of stress, let me make you a chamomile tea.”

You swiped your phone up as you bolted but he was quicker and blocked the front door, holding his hand out. “Give that to me, you don’t want to do that.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I do,” you hissed as you started to dial the emergency number.

“It’s you they will take away,” he said with a blase shrug that made you pause. “Everyone knows how unstable you have become.”

“Me?” you shrieked.

“You’re barely holding it together now. They aren’t going to believe anything you say.” He opened his arms as if to say, I’m famous and you are no one. Unfortunately, he was right. “Come on, love, let’s go back to bed.”

He took the phone from your limp hand and locked it before slipping it into his pocket. You were so confused that you had no idea what to do when he guided you back to the bed, turning the sheets down before tucking you in gently. “I love you,” he whispered as he kissed your forehead and handed you the cold mug. “Drink up, baby, this is all just a bad dream.”

Click here for the next morning.

[disabirbity]

What are some things other psychotics do to differentiate between hallucination and reality? And what are ways some of you hold off symptoms? Looking to get a nice thread for people to help each other going here, this stuff isn't posted about enough.

Ways we prevent symptoms/stop them from progressing:

Make background noise to prevent auditory hallucinations. Most of ours start by hearing something that we can't identify the cause of in the background, and our brain starts the spiral from there. So we listen to music all the time and sleep with a fan on every single night, even in the winter. We just point it away from us if we don't want it making us cold.

Blame the cat (or other pets). Any weird movement, scratching, crunching or thumping? That's just Jerry, don't worry about it. He's a silly cat that does cat things even while we're sleeping. Any noise can be blamed on pets or the wind, which stops the paranoia from setting in and making everything bad.

We also tell ourselves that if there was an actual issue like an intruder or monster, the cat would hiss or scream, and the dog would be barking or making noise. This can be applied to many pets.

Stay busy. Focus on something--art, video games, tv shows and films, craft, gardening, anything that keeps you thinking. Don't let the anxiety get to you, just stay focused on your regular life.

Laugh at it. You're hallucinating a monster in your peripheral vision? Name it Fred and tell him to pay rent. You hear weird noises? Tell them to come back with a warrant. For us, treating symptoms like they're jokes or not serious makes us less anxious and therefore makes it easier to get back to a point where we're okay.

Having a friend or a pet near you can help. We feel safer and less alone when we see another living thing near us that's safe. We don't feel as much like we're trapped in another dimension that way.

How we differentiate between reality and unreality:

Touch it. This one only works for things you're not scared of, and if you don't have tactile hallucinations. It's not foolproof! But when we're seeing things like bugs and stuff, reaching out to touch them causes them to fade away so we know they're fake.

Ask friends and other trusted people if they "heard that" or "saw anything". If they're psychosis friendly, feel free to explain and be specific. If not, be vague and keep it to simple things like "hey did you hear anything? I couldn't tell what it was", if that will be safe enough. Having people to ground you can be great.

Look at how others around you are acting. Are they running or interacting with the thing in question in any way? Do they seem to look at it or no? If no one is noticing, it's less likely to be real.

These won't work for everyone and some of these might be harmful to others, but they're helpful to us. You know best what will help you!

Please feel free to add your own! We need more discussion around psychosis that isn't "scary evil person disorder and how to deal with people who have it".

[ohnoitstbskyen]

I know it would probably bring a lot of hate comments but I am begging you to roast the hazbin character designs because I'd love to have someone properly articulate why they don't work so I could send it to people who won't believe me when I tell them. 🫠 Understandable if you don't want to get into it though.

I don't think there's that much there to roast, honestly?

Those designs are clearly an extremely specific stylistic choice, and because that style is consistent throughout the show, it ultimately feels coherent with itself.

There are trade-offs being made. Because Hazbin's design style is SO stylized and so heavy on decoration and detailing, because it puts a lot of emphasis on costuming, it isn't as good at communicating specific character storytelling as a more grounded style could be (it's kind of the same tradeoff that stuff like Genshin Impact makes).

Like, why does Sir Pentious' hat have an eye and a mouth on it that makes its own expressions? Apparently not for very much reason at all, except that Pentious has a bit of an eyes-motif going on in his design and it was one more place to put an extra eye. And that's a valid criticism of his design, but also the entire show is designed like that, so frankly it would be weirder and more out of place if his design alone didn't have that kind of overelaborate decoration going on.

It does create a situation where I have a hard time "reading" the character designs sometimes. For example, Vox, Alastor and Pentious all wear a similar style of suit with upwards-turned shoulders, butterflies and pinstripes. Now, am I meant to read that as Vox imitating Alastor due to his crippling need to replace and outdo him, and Pentious imitating the style of powerful Overlords because he thinks that possessing their level of power will finally give him relief from his paranoia and self-loathing?

Or is it just a design fixation of the creator who keeps putting their characters in suits because that's just what they like? I can't really be sure, because sometimes design elements are used to intentionally tell stories about how characters relate to themselves, their world and one another, but plenty of other times designs look the way they do Because Of Vibes.

But again, that lack of clarity is clearly an intentional trade-off - and the benefit of that trade-off is a design style that is extremely varied, wild, expressive and memorable. Hazbin Hotel seems like a very easy show to draw fanart of, and a very fun show to draw fanart of. Those designs (especially the hyper-expressive faces) are begging to be the subjects of traumatic headcanons, unbearably cotton-candy soft fluff fantasies and weird, taboo, homoerotic power dynamics. Slaps roof of character design, this bad boy can express so much vicarious emotional intensity.

It's very exuberant, very excited about itself and very self-indulgent, it's a style that prioritizes visual impact and visual interest over readability (something which the animators of the show navigate with real skill, props to them) and individual aesthetics over worldbuilding.

And I don't blame anyone for being turned off by that (I certainly was the first time I started seeing those designs going around), but I would struggle to call the show's designs "bad" when they are clearly achieving exactly what they want to achieve.

I have some criticisms, especially re: how the show treats skinny bodies as an unquestioned, desirable default, and employs fatness as a means of alienating and abjecting the audience. That sucks very badly, and is a serious disappointment, and one of the few places where the show feels like it is being cowardly in its design philosophy. But I don't have it in me to do some kind of Hazbin Hotel Sucks And Here's Why takedown, its problems are not unique or extreme enough to warrant it, at least not as I currently understand them.

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

You guys really got me to one thousand likes in less than two days.

I don't even know what's happening but it's pulling me out of a really awful writer's block.

I have more ideas than I know what to do with so expect a good bit of content in the future.

You're all incredible 💗 ❤️

Have some Shanks headcanons, ranging from fluffy to spicy. As a treat.

I was a little iffy about Live Action Shanks at first, since he was literally my first manga/anime crush ever. But he grew on me more with every scene.

Especially that final scene where he saw Luffy's wanted poster. I mean....

Lookit that smile 🥹

So anyway.

LA!Shanks X Fem!Reader

Shanks A — Z

A — Afterglow (How are they after sex?)

Holding you close and telling you how much he adores you.

He's going to give you anything you want. Anything.

"Do you need anything, sweetheart? I've got you."

You want a bath, he's going to run it for you, carry you there once it's ready, and help you bathe.

Food or a drink, you just lay down, he's got it.

Shanks is completely and utterly devoted to making you feel like a goddess after sex.

Showering you with soft, tender kisses and caresses and endless praise, rubbing his fingers between your wet folds to prolong your pleasure as long as possible.

If it seems like he's trying to coax you into another round, he probably is. Your're going to have to outright tell him you're if spent, because he can't get enough of you.

B — Backrubs? (Do they like them? Like giving them?)

You can expect it nightly. You're his princess and he's going to pamper you.

He might only have one hand, but dear gods those fingers are magic.

He's not asking anything in return, but if you're offering then he isn't going to turn you down.

Closing his eyes and groaning as your fingers work through the tension in his muscles.

"Oh, you're too good for me, love."

C — Cuddling (Do they enjoy cuddling a lot ot only at certain moments?)

If you're within arm's reach, then Shanks has his arm around you.

His main mode of affection is physical.

Pulling you you to his side, resting his head over yours, tugging you down onto his lap.

He wants you close, as much and as often as you're willing to be, and he does't give a damn who sees.

D — Dance (Are they good at it? Do they enjoy it?)

Not really big on dancing, but if you want to he isn’t going to turn you down.

He'll take any excuse he can get to hold you close.

Tucking your hair behind your ear so he can rest his temple against yours.

His arm curled loosely around your back.

E — Extravagant Gestures (Things they do to make you feel loved)

He would literally move mountains for you if he could.

You tell him your dreams, well now they're his dreams too.

Anything you accomplish, whether alone or with his help, warrants the most lavish of celebrations.

He isn’t particularly materialistic, but what his princess wants, she gets, no questions asked.

"If you wanted the moon, I would make this ship fly so you could stake your claim."

F — Fighting (How do they hand arguments/apologies?)

All puppy-dog eyes and pouts.

Shanks makes it impossible to stay mad at him for any reasonable length of time. He's just too damned adorable.

Wrapping an arm around you and laying his head on your shoulder, refusing to let you go until you listen.

Even if it's a serious argument, the look of utter heartbreak on his face makes you cave every time.

"Come on, sweetheart. Just name it, I'll do anything."

He isn’t too proud to apologize—he knows when he's in the wrong, and he'll do anything in his power to make it up to you.

G — Going Out (What do they do for dates?)

If Shanks is the one doing the planning, you can expect to end up one of two places.

You might be at the nearest tavern, going shot for shot on rum until you can't see straight, singing sea shanties into the dark hours of morning.

Or laid out on a secluded stretch of beach in the moonlight, sharing a bottle or two, wrapped up in each others' arms and lips and forgetting the passage of time entirely.

He's happy doing anything that means he gets to spend time with you, though, so he's fine with going out of his element if you have something else in mind.

H — Heartache (How would they handle it if you broke up with them?)

Don't. Please. Just don't. He'll be inconsolable.

He'll cry. Don't make Shanks cry. That's just heartless.

He won't show it in front of his crew. He'll keep up his usual carefree and aloof facade.

But once he's alone, he'll be in complete shambles.

He'll probably drink himself senseless.

He loves hard, with every fabric of his being, and losing you would utterly destroy him.

I — Intimacy (When are they intimate with you? And how often?)

Literally all the time.

Shanks always kisses you like no one's watching, pulling you flush against him and delving his tongue between your lips and squeezing your rear.

In his eyes, there's no wrong time to show how much he treasures you. How much he wants you.

His ship could be under fire by a full Marine armada and he would still pull you in for a slow, sweet kiss if the mood struck.

In fact he'd probably do it just to show the Marines how completely unbothered he is.

J — Joker (How do they make you laugh)

If Shanks isn't cracking some stupid joke, you're worried something is wrong.

He loves making people laugh, loves seeing people laughing and enjoying life.

And making *you* laugh? That gives him life.

He's gone far as to pull your panties on while you're alone together in the captain's cabin and imitate you being dramatic about something until you're begging him to stop before you choke to death on your own giggles.

K — Kissing (How good? How often?)

If you're within eyeshot, he *has* to kiss you.

He knows that his crew will roll their eyes and tease him about it, but he doesn't care. Your lips are like a drug and he simply can't get enough.

His kisses tend to be light and plauful.

Lightly biting and pulling at your bottom lip.

Flicking his tongue across lips to coax yours out.

Letting his tongue swirl slowly around yours before pulling back and leaving you craving more.

Pulling you into his lap when he deepens the kiss.

Lifting his hand to flip off anyone with the audacity to tell you two to get a room.

"Don't pay them any mind, princess. They're just a bunch of jealous pricks."

L — Lay down (How do they sleep with you? Are they a cuddler or do they prefer their space?)

He has to be against you in bed.

If you roll away in your sleep, he will subconsciously shift closer to you.

Spooning is definitely his favorite—your back and your ass pressed up against him, his arm draped over your waist so he can caress your stomach or lay his palm over one of your soft breasts...absolute *heaven*.

M — Making babies (Do they want to settle down and have kids?)

Shanks is good with kids, being that he's practically an overgrown kid himself half the time.

All the same, he just...isn’t sure.

He loves you to death. Having a family with you would be a dream come true.

But if he had to leave his ship, his crew behind? He just isn’t sure he could do that.

Because he loves them to death, too.

N — Nervous? (How confident are they when it comes to romance?)

Shanks posseses the positively deadly combination of being unnecessarily charming and handsome, and incredibly aware of it.

Thus, his confidence is through the roof.

He knows he doesn't need anything more than a cheeky grin and a soft carress or two to get you in bed.

That being said, he'll spend all day subtly teasing you to the end of your sanity to make sure you want him as much as it's possible to want another person.

O — Oral Fixation (Giving or recieving? And how good are they?)

Absolutely a giver. He's incredible at it and he knows it.

And he's a terrible, terrible tease about it.

Taking you to the edge, making your thighs tremble...and then pulling away to brush his lips to your thighs and give you a cheeky grin.

"Oh, not yet, love. I love hearing you beg for it."

Keeping you on the edge until you're begging to come in complete and utter desperation before he finally lets you.

And then he isn't going to stop until you're begging him to.

He loves recieving just as much.

Really loves it when you pull him down an empty alley and get on your knees.Curling his fingers in your hair, groaning quietly and praising you endlessly.

His breath shaking as he resists the urge to thrust his hips forward and fuck your throat, wanting to enjoy the slow build-up.

"That's it, sweetheart. Look at me. I want to see those pretty eyes while you suck my cock."

P — Pet Peeves (Things they don't like in a partner)

Taking things too seriously. He's always joking around and having a good time, and all he wants is for you to do the same.

The silent treatment. It drives him absolutely insane. Just talk to him if there's something wrong, he wants to fix it.

Flirting with other men to make him jealous. Just don't. It's the one thing that truly gets under his skin, that could actually get him honestly angry with you.

Q — Quiet Time (How much alone time do they need, or do they want to be with you 24/7?)

Gives you your distance if you need it, but he does so begrudgingly.

He knows life is short—he got his arm bit off by a giant sea monster, for gods' sake—and he wants to spend as much time as he can with you.

Whether you're out having fun, fighting alongside each other, or curled up together in a hammock sharing a bottle of rum and enjoying a lazy afternoon.

He loves being with you, and he'll take any excuse he can get.

R — Romance (How romantic are they? Do they have to force it or does it come natural?)

Shanks's version of romance isn't fancy dinners and extravagant date nights.

It's lying on a beach watching the sunset with you.

Pushing you into the water and diving in after you, kissing you while you're both sopping wet.

Making love under a full moon.

Telling you every opportunity he gets how much he adores you.

"You know you're my greatest treasure, don't you, sweetheart?"

It's hard not to know when he tells you at least three times a day.

But the way he looks into your eyes when he says it still manages to melt your heart every time.

S — Spending Money (How much do they like to spend on you?)

Shanks isn't really much for materialism or consumerism.

You'll have to tell him if there's something you want, and he's not going to have any oroblem with getting it for you.

Every so often, something is going to catch his eye at some market in a port town.

Something that reminds him of you or that he thinks you'll like.

And he'll buy it without hesitation and give it to you with a big, goofy grin the second he sees you.

It's not all the time, but it makes it that much more special when it does happen.

T — Trust (Are they trusting of you? Jealous?)

He absolutely trusts you—that's how love is supposed to work.

But he can get a little jealous.

You wouldn't know it from the way he carries himself and jokes about it, but he does get a little insecure about missing an entire limb.

This can lead to him getting a little defensive and possessive if other men approach you—he's going to make sure it's known that you're his lover, and he'll always fight for you.

U — Underwear (What kind do they wear, and what kind do they like on you?)

Loose-fitting boxers are more comfortable.

He doesn't care what kind of underwear you wear, as long as it comes off easily.

And if you whisper in his ear that you're *not* wearing any?

You'd best buckle up, because he's putting you over his shoulder and carrying you off to the nearest private, or even semi-private location he can find to take advantage of this information.

V — Vulnerable (How vulnerable are they with you? Is it easy for them to open up to you?)

He is one hundred percent an open book with you.

You know everything about him. His life, his secrets, his aspirations.

He doesn't want anything to ever come up that could frighten you off, so he lays everything on the table surprisingly quickly.

W — Wine and Dine (Do they prefer meals at home or going out with you? Who does more of the cooking?)

He would much rather cook, preferably with you. He's not the best at it, but he's not awful either, given that he's had to be self-sufficient for a good bit of his life.

And if you're good at it, he's not to proud to take advice.

Any time spent with you is a wonderful time to him.

If you go out, it's probably going to be street food or tavern fare—fancy restaurants aren't his forte, and he's frankly not sure he would even have anything appropriate to wear.

X — X-Rated (How good are they in bed? What do they like?)

Hopefully you like being teased literally to the edge of sanity.

Major kink for edging you, making you beg for it.

And dear sweet fuck, is he good at it.

Whispering all the things he's going to do to you throughout the course of the day.

Pulling you down an alley or into a broom closet, pinning you to the wall and teasing you through your panties, stopping just short of letting you cum.

Subtle glances and touches.

He *loves* seeing you writhing in his bed, desperate for his touch while he kisses your neck, just trailing his fingertips up and down your inner thigh.

Holding you down by your hips so you can't even grind against him.

"Such an eager little thing. Just be patient, princess. You're going to get what you want."

Kissing down your breasts, taking time to stop and tease your nipples.

Pushing your thighs apart with his knees so he can circle a finger around your entrance, chuckling a little at your moans and whimpers before finally pushing it in.

Sitting up on his knees to watch you arch your hips, rubbing against your g-spot just long enough to get you gasping.

Pulling his finger back out and slowly circling it around your clit instead, before shifting back between your thighs and giving the sensitive bud a few teasing licks, watching you shiver in anticipation.

Keeping it slow and sensual, enjoying every second of being between your thighs, building your pleasure at a slow and steady pace that drives you crazy.

Holding onto your hip keep you from grinding against his tongue.

Pulling back the second you crest toward orgasm, chuckling at your whimpering and begging as he trails his lips across your inner thigh.

"You're just so adorable when you're desperate for it."

Keeping it going for what feels like hours, before finally tugging you in close and not relenting until you're trembling and falling apart beneath him.

Feeling you throbbing under his tongue and tighten up around his fingers is like a high for him.

Not stopping until your body goes limp and the only sounds you can make are a few little whimpers.

Soft, tender kisses amd whispered praises at your neck and lips and shoulders, his fingers combing through your hair, letting you recover for just a minute, even though he's aching for you.

Grinding his cock against your wet folds a few times before sliding slowly into you, groaning quietly in your ear.

"Oh, fuck, you're tight, love..."

Absolutely savors every second of being inside you, moving in long slow strokes, brushing his thumb across your cheek while he kisses you.

If you ask for it harder, he's going to give it to you—he's done with teasing you now. This is about you now, about what his princess wants.

And if you want it rough, then you're coming out of it with your neck and chest half-covered in hickies, and he's not stopping until he's sure you won't be able to walk tomorrow morning.

Holding back just long enough so you can climax at the same time, grunting out a quiet swear and pulling your hips flush against his to come deep inside you.

Slow, deep kisses while you both catch your breath and come down.

But don't be surprised if he's gearing up for another round soon. He really can never get enough of you.

Y — Yearning (How long will they pursue the person they're interested in before losing interest?)

It depends. If it's purely lust based, he's not going to pursue it very long and just move on.

If the feelings run deeper, though, he's absolutely shameless about it.

Relentless flirting and corny pick-up lines.

"Pardon me miss—do you have a map? It seems I've gotten lost in your eyes and I can’t find my way out."

Will absolutely get on his knees and beg you to give him a chance if he has to.

Puppy dog eyes in full effect.

It's pretty much pointless trying to resist.

Z — Zen (What do they do to wind down and relax? Do they prefer to do it alone or with you?)

A bottle of rum, a hammock stretched between a couple palm trees on some remote beach only he knows about, and his arm curled around you while you lie back against his chest.

Kissing your temple and playing with your hair.

He's always more relaxed when he has you with him.

[thatscarletflycatcher]

The problem with discussions about Henry Crawford is that there are two different questions being asked at the same time: 1) Can Fanny reform Henry? and 2) Can Henry reform?

Austen answers negatively to the first one, but I'd argue she's very ambivalent in her answer to the second.

Austen is not in the habit of "punishing" her villains; none of them are struck by accidents of fortune or anything the like, but we commonly perceive the downgrade between what they could have had and what they end up having. Edward Ferrars is an infinitely preferrable husband to Robert Ferrars, but Lucy Steele never seems to become aware of that fact. Isabella tries to get Captain Tilney over James Morland. Mr. Elliot is not crying by the corners over the fact that he lost Anne Elliot. Even Willoughby's regret is not about Marianne's actual goodness, but his personal convenience. Austen's "villains" as a rule are morally stupid people.

When Aristotle says that no one can be good who is stupid, he doesn't have in mind things like being good at Math or being well read or quick-witted; he's thinking of a certain intuition, clear-sightedness about what is good, what contributes to human flourishing, and this seems to be a strong component of what Austen calls sense. Sense is almost convertible (if not completely) with prudence, and prudence is a rather intuitive virtue, as it regulates the when, the how, the how much, etc of the other moral virtues. (and there goes my first thesis topic that I never did!).

In that way it is interesting that only 4 characters are said to possess sense in Mansfield Park: Edmund, Fanny, Henry, and Tom (and Tom doesn't even fully count, because his is expressed negatively: instead of having sense, he doesn't lack it). Here are the Henry instances:

"He did not want them to die of love; but with sense and temper which ought to have made him judge and feel better, he allowed himself great latitude on such points." "Henry Crawford had too much sense not to feel the worth of good principles in a wife, though he was too little accustomed to serious reflection to know them by their proper name; but when he talked of her having such a steadiness and regularity of conduct, such a high notion of honour, and such an observance of decorum as might warrant any man in the fullest dependence on her faith and integrity, he expressed what was inspired by the knowledge of her being well principled and religious." "That punishment, the public punishment of disgrace, should in a just measure attend his share of the offence is, we know, not one of the barriers which society gives to virtue. In this world the penalty is less equal than could be wished; but without presuming to look forward to a juster appointment hereafter, we may fairly consider a man of sense, like Henry Crawford, to be providing for himself no small portion of vexation and regret: vexation that must rise sometimes to self-reproach, and regret to wretchedness, in having so requited hospitality, so injured family peace, so forfeited his best, most estimable, and endeared acquaintance, and so lost the woman whom he had rationally as well as passionately loved."

(I'm not counting the one time Edmund calls him a man of sense, and the one time Sir Thomas does the same, for obvious contextual reasons).

It's not only interesting that he is the only rake to be called a man of sense by the narrator (Mrs. Smith calling Mr. Elliot a man of sense in Persuasion is clearly not meant to be taken straight), but that it is always specifically tied to moral perceptiveness; he was morally perceptive enough to know he shouldn't have played the way he did, and he chose to ignore it. He perceives Fanny's moral worth, and it is the core reason why he wants to marry her.* He also perceives William's moral worth as something both good and desirable:

"To Henry Crawford they gave a different feeling. He longed to have been at sea, and seen and done and suffered as much. His heart was warmed, his fancy fired, and he felt the highest respect for a lad who, before he was twenty, had gone through such bodily hardships and given such proofs of mind. The glory of heroism, of usefulness, of exertion, of endurance, made his own habits of selfish indulgence appear in shameful contrast; and he wished he had been a William Price, distinguishing himself and working his way to fortune and consequence with so much self-respect and happy ardour, instead of what he was!"

Both here and at the end of the novel, Henry's moral perceptiveness leads to remorse for his own moral wrongdoings. Compare this to Willoughby's regret over Marianne:

"Willoughby could not hear of her marriage without a pang; and his punishment was soon afterwards complete in the voluntary forgiveness of Mrs. Smith, who, by stating his marriage with a woman of character, as the source of her clemency, gave him reason for believing that had he behaved with honour towards Marianne, he might at once have been happy and rich. That his repentance of misconduct, which thus brought its own punishment, was sincere, need not be doubted;—nor that he long thought of Colonel Brandon with envy, and of Marianne with regret. But that he was for ever inconsolable, that he fled from society, or contracted an habitual gloom of temper, or died of a broken heart, must not be depended on—for he did neither. He lived to exert, and frequently to enjoy himself. His wife was not always out of humour, nor his home always uncomfortable; and in his breed of horses and dogs, and in sporting of every kind, he found no inconsiderable degree of domestic felicity."

This sense/moral perceptiveness of Henry Crawford, and his experiencing remorse for his own wrongdoings sets him apart from the other Austen rakes. He's also not a drinker or a gambler; he does take at least minimal care of Everingham ("Everingham could not do without him in the beginning of September. He went for a fortnight") and did some modifications to it as soon as he got it. The same way Darcy's character is revealed as we see Pemberley, so the inflexion point of Henry's redemption attempt is his trying to become a better master of his estate:

For her approbation, the particular reason of his going into Norfolk at all, at this unusual time of year, was given. It had been real business, relative to the renewal of a lease in which the welfare of a large and—he believed—industrious family was at stake. He had suspected his agent of some underhand dealing; of meaning to bias him against the deserving; and he had determined to go himself, and thoroughly investigate the merits of the case. He had gone, had done even more good than he had foreseen, had been useful to more than his first plan had comprehended, and was now able to congratulate himself upon it, and to feel that in performing a duty, he had secured agreeable recollections for his own mind. He had introduced himself to some tenants whom he had never seen before; he had begun making acquaintance with cottages whose very existence, though on his own estate, had been hitherto unknown to him. This was aimed, and well aimed, at Fanny. It was pleasing to hear him speak so properly; here he had been acting as he ought to do. To be the friend of the poor and the oppressed! Nothing could be more grateful to her; and she was on the point of giving him an approving look, when it was all frightened off by his adding a something too pointed of his hoping soon to have an assistant, a friend, a guide in every plan of utility or charity for Everingham: a somebody that would make Everingham and all about it a dearer object than it had ever been yet. She turned away, and wished he would not say such things. She was willing to allow he might have more good qualities than she had been wont to suppose. She began to feel the possibility of his turning out well at last; but he was and must ever be completely unsuited to her, and ought not to think of her.

I have half an idea of going into Norfolk again soon. I am not satisfied about Maddison. I am sure he still means to impose on me if possible, and get a cousin of his own into a certain mill, which I design for somebody else. I must come to an understanding with him. I must make him know that I will not be tricked on the south side of Everingham, any more than on the north: that I will be master of my own property. I was not explicit enough with him before. The mischief such a man does on an estate, both as to the credit of his employer and the welfare of the poor, is inconceivable. I have a great mind to go back into Norfolk directly, and put everything at once on such a footing as cannot be afterwards swerved from. Maddison is a clever fellow; I do not wish to displace him, provided he does not try to displace me; but it would be simple to be duped by a man who has no right of creditor to dupe me, and worse than simple to let him give me a hard-hearted, griping fellow for a tenant, instead of an honest man, to whom I have given half a promise already. Would it not be worse than simple? Shall I go? Do you advise it?” “I advise! You know very well what is right.” “Yes. When you give me your opinion, I always know what is right. Your judgment is my rule of right.” “Oh, no! do not say so. We have all a better guide in ourselves, if we would attend to it, than any other person can be.

This is even more hammered in by the narrator: "Had he done as he intended, and as he knew he ought, by going down to Everingham after his return from Portsmouth, he might have been deciding his own happy destiny."

All these elements seem to point towards his being redeemable; he almost managed it! If only he'd gone to Everingham instead of London, catastrophic failure would have been averted! And yet at the same time we are told this:

Henry Crawford, ruined by early independence and bad domestic example, indulged in the freaks of a cold-blooded vanity a little too long. Once it had, by an opening undesigned and unmerited, led him into the way of happiness. Could he have been satisfied with the conquest of one amiable woman’s affections, could he have found sufficient exultation in overcoming the reluctance, in working himself into the esteem and tenderness of Fanny Price, there would have been every probability of success and felicity for him. His affection had already done something. Her influence over him had already given him some influence over her. Would he have deserved more, there can be no doubt that more would have been obtained, especially when that marriage had taken place, which would have given him the assistance of her conscience in subduing her first inclination, and brought them very often together. Would he have persevered, and uprightly, Fanny must have been his reward, and a reward very voluntarily bestowed, within a reasonable period from Edmund’s marrying Mary.

Ruined by early independence and bad domestic example. Mansfield Park is in a way a rather pessimist novel: it is a novel about education, and once your education has "set", your character is fixed, and your fate determined. Much of Maria and Julia's disgrace was also directly caused by their upbringing in a household where all importance was given to superficial qualities, and very little effective affection was shared; one can compare the restrained calm of Mansfield as a reflection of Sir Thomas' own unwillingness to see reality and give himself some discomfort in making others comfortable, with the bustle of the Musgrove household, and connect the dots to what makes the relationship between sisters Maria and Julia so different from the one between Louisa and Henrietta in similar situations.

In the end, it's a bit of a Schröedinger's cat situation. Can Henry reform? Yes, says Austen, he has the qualities needed for moral improvement, but no, his upbringing ruined him, and his character is fixed.

While this idea is the strongest in MP, it is present one way or another in all Austen's novels. Characters reforming is usually more about one specific quality or moral tone not being fine tuned than proper metanoia. Darcy was taught to do right, and did right; what he needed was to add proper humility and kindness to his practice. There is an exception, though, the one thing Charlotte Brontë and Jane Austen agree upon: a close brush with death is the best recipe for moral cure in the otherwise incurable.

Maybe the key is to wish Henry a good pneumonia, or a strong horsefall-induced concussion.

_____________

*On a side note, it's interesting that before he proposes, he considers how attached Fanny is to Mansfield, as undeserving as he thinks the Bertrams to be of her affection, and even draws a plan that contemplates giving her pleasure that way too: "I will not take her from Northamptonshire. I shall let Everingham, and rent a place in this neighbourhood; perhaps Stanwix Lodge."

[stardustlixie]

cry me a river [h.hj x reader]

trope: enemies to lovers, uni au

word count: 13.6k

warnings: not much, arguing and bickering obvi, like one badly written breakdown, mentions of abuse but no serious descriptions, a little ateez slander i'm sorry someone had to be villain, that's it i think, lmk if i missed something

Some say a child’s mind is like a blank book, and what's written in it has lasting impact, but you'd say it's more like wet clay, writing on paper can be erased, or cut down, or covered, but what about fingerprints on clay, what about the shapes it was twisted into? those cannot be undone, not without breaking.

And you're a living example.

You were the 12 year old who was told love was something you'd have to earn. You were once the 12 year old crying when your father burst out telling you ‘second is just the first loser', you were the 12 year old shaking, lest the test paper with an 82 on it warrant physical pain. 

You were the 13 year old who spent their birthday evaluating what made up a human's worth. Kindness, faith, and community were things that your mother would have said, but certificates, achievements and excellence would be your dad's answer. And for the next 8 years, it'd be yours too.

Young minds are beautiful places, but they trust to a fault, taking whatever is presented to them as absolute truth, often hurting themselves to a point where they find themselves unable to trust when older. And yet, painfully unable to shake the beliefs embedded in their psyche.

Your father isn't in your immediate vicinity to remind you that you're not lovable if you don't have something to offer and he'd be surprised if someone ever loved you for who you are. But his voice still lives in the back of your head, it's enough reminder of your uselessness without Hyunjin exiting.

Hwang Hyunjin, how you hate his guts and how your father would have loved him. All things good: funny, smart, popular, skilled, but most of all, the best at everything. 

Always first, always a step ahead of you, prettier than you, smarter than you, more friendly than you.

More than you.

Being the best comes easy to him, hell, everything comes easy to him. Especially making you feel small. He sucks the oxygen out of any place you are in.

It seems like his only purpose in the universe is causing you problems, putting you down, destroying your self esteem, getting into the most sensitive corners of your mind and evoking intense emotions that you didn't even know you were capable of feeling.

He brings out the worst of you, makes your insecurities pop out like bright red on a white canvas. 

Maybe it's you who's fragile. But not being affected is difficult when most of his attacks seem to mirror your father's statements.

You don't like Hwang Hyunjin. You know it, Felix knows it, Minho knows it, Hyunjin knows it, the entire campus knows it. 

You don't remember when exactly Hyunjin got to this point, but it didn't start like this. 

It seems like forever but it's been just about a year since you met him at that party. It's no question that he's good looking, but he had an allure to him that day. Though he was reserved at first, you both soon began to get along and your friendship began to turn into a playful rivalry.

The light hearted competition in everything was welcome at first, but there came a point where it wasn't light hearted anymore. And maybe one of you unknowingly crossed a line or two, but you were hurling sharp insults at the other in only a couple of months of meeting.

You were enemies before you were really friends.

But you blame him for that. You weren't at fault when you recieved your first semester grades and first thing he said was “Seems like second is what you'll always be.” 

You weren't over reacting that day when he suggested getting drunk at a party was your only chance of getting laid because “Your personality will distract any sober person from your looks, no one would stay with you long enough to reach that level of trust.” 

You weren't overreacting when you'd grabbed him by the collar and told him “Talk to me about trust when someone shows interest in something other than your reputation or face. Talk to me about human connection when you know what it fucking feels like.”  

That was probably the harshest thing you'd said to him, and you knew that, because this was his fragile point. He brought it upon himself though. He wasn't seen around for a week after that. But then he was back, the same, with remarks on everything about you, not always prime hurtful, but always unwelcome. There was nothing you did that deterred him from being so disruptive. So you learnt to let it be. 

But your friends didn't get the memo. They seem to get along with him really well. To this day they've been trying to get you two to ‘settle your differences’. You reckon they'll get tired one day.

☆⋆｡°⁠☆

This was a bad idea. They should have given up after two of their previous attempts.

Closed rehearsal room and your friends who thought of inviting the bane of your existence to join for a dance practice session.

“Darling you're not even trying,” he condescends, “though I don't think it'd make much of a difference if you did.” There goes that smirk.

Felix pauses his movement momentarily to look at the situation, but Minho, ever the strict teacher, orders the three of you back into position. It's been an hour of trying to come up with a choreography for a song of his choosing and you'd be worried about his disappointment in the lack of progress if you didn't have a 5 '10 problem to deal with.

Whose idea was it to attempt getting you and Hyunjin to be friends? 

You've been trying your best to focus on the instructions Minho gives but Hwang Hyunjin can be really, really annoying when he needs to be. And you're reaching the brink of your already limited patience. 

“That's it, Min. I don't know which of you two decided this was a good idea but I really hope this guy isn't in this room the next time I am. I'm not doing this anymore.” You declare and walk to get your bag when, ofcourse, Hyunjin comments.

“Oh come on,” he fakes a pout, “you're disappointing your best friends. And me.” He says, like he matters. 

“Well then,” you glare him down, done dealing with him for the rest of your life, “cry me a river and drown in it.” 

He winces and puts a hand over his heart like he's hurt, before laughing, “As you wish darling.” You're very close to snapping but you just take a few steps towards him till his back hits the wall. “Shut up, will you?” 

“Oo, how scary.” His hand reaches out but you smack it away before it does anything, your attention would be on his red ears if it wasn't on that stupid smirk.

And as you walk out you swear to yourself to wipe it off his face someday. 

When Minho and Lix brought him along and introduced him to you, he was nice, polite, quiet almost. But now it seems like he is on a personal vendetta to get on your nerves. 

His attacks go from just annoying to ignorant to personally hurtful when no one's looking. And you hate him for it. 

Felix keeps attempting to get you and his bestfriend to not be at each other's throats all the time. You can't say it's working but you've gotten more used to having a constant source of irritation around.

Is there more layers to your hatred of him than just this? Yes. Would you ever admit that? Probably not.

☆⋆｡°⁠☆

The next you see of him is in your dorm, on your dinner table. Actually your trio’s table but he doesn't belong here either way. 

He lifts a hand and waves, mouthing a ‘hey there’, to which you flip him off. You reach the table and just stand beside your friends till they feel obligated to provide an explanation. Felix speaks up first, keeping his mug aside,“Hi yn!” but completely ignores your apprehension, prompts you to sit down instead, which you do with a huff. 

You don't spare him another glance but you can feel his eyes focused on you.

“Answer a question l/n.” He seems to be studying your stance for some reason. “What even is the point of you?”

You take a deep breath. You don't wanna smite him in your own kitchen. “You ask me that like your own life has any meaning.”

“So you don't have an answer?”

“Do you get off of the annoyance you cause other people?”

“Probably. You're my favorite though.” He winks and you have to use the entirety of your self control to not break his jaw.

“You done?” Minho says to Hyunjin, though it feels as if he's addressing you both.

“There’s a group dance competition in late November,” he sees both you and Hyunjin open your mouths but he cuts it off early, “it outright says groups of four or more.” 

“Then I'm out.” 

“So am I.”

“You both calm your asses right now,” Minho gives a look that promptly gets you both settled in your seats, though he ignores Lix’s giggle, “the prize money for the winners is huge.” 

“And I know you don't need the money like us,” he looks at Hyunjin, “but Hongjoong is bringing his team. I'm sure you'd like to participate.” 

Hyunjin nods his participation but Minho isn't done. “If I see whatever problem you both have with each other becoming a problem to practice..” He concludes himself with silence and you swear Hyunjin gulps as you hold eye contact with Minho, as if challenging him to finish. 

You've known him since his shy highschooler days, you're not about to be intimidated by this doe eyed example of a man.

“I think they'll manage!” Felix cheers Minho so he disrupts whatever staring contests you both are in. Conveniently dragging him out and inconveniently leaving you and Hyunjin together. This is the first time you're alone with him in a couple of months.

You get up as if he isn't sat across from you to make yourself some tea. It's almost done when he speaks. 

“So…. truce?” 

“I’m not acting friendly with you just because that rodent wants me to” you clear and set down a mug of tea on the table with some force, “don't make yourself comfortable.” 

He looks nonplussed at the cup in front of him and looks back at you.

“You were staring at Lix’s tea like a dying man. Drink it. Or don't. Whatever.” 

“Aww you do care about your arch-enemy after all!” He makes a face that makes you wanna hurt him. 

You walk out.

☆⋆｡°⁠☆

“But wouldn’t that seem like piracy in dance? A dancepiracy?” Felix exclaims, in his usual manner of what-even-is-his-vocabulary when Minho has all of you gathered in a practice room on campus. 

“Lix, I'm sorry, what?” 

Hyunjin enters, a bit late as he always is, “Hi-” 

“Don't talk to me.” You cut him off and receive an eye roll before walking off to Minho and he beckons the two of them to do the same.

“Alright, let's decide a general vibe we're going for and then we'll pick a song based on that.” 

“How about a contemporary mix?” Hyunjin says, and before Minho can say something, you do.

“You're so clueless it's almost cute. You're gonna fight Ateez, with contemporary?” You scoff like it's the most ridiculous thing you've heard and he gives you an offended kindergartener look.

“Alright break it up, we'll club every idea together and then eliminate.” Minho says, already getting tired of the setting. How will he do this for a few more weeks?

Almost half an hour passes before the animated discussion about concepts, styles and which one of those could be used by potential opponents ends and you all try to decide on a song.

“But if we do Charisma we're gonna run out of energy pretty quickly and the power of the song is gonna overrule the moves.” You say and for the first time, Hyunjin agrees, so Minho has to drop it. 

“We should try k-music, how about Overdrive? The one by I.M.?” Hyunjin says and you almost pat him on the back. 

“That, Hwang, is probably the only good idea you've ever had in your life. Let's do it.” If hyunjin replies, it is tuned out by the sounds of a happy Felix. 

☆

“Hyunjin if your hand touches my face one more time I'm gonna rip it off!” Minho says, much to effect, Hyunjin shudders and his hand never reaches a foot’s radius of Minho again. He looks hilarious like that, cute even. Wait. No.

“Alright, that's probably all we can do today, I want all of you here tomorrow at 5pm. Don't be late, Hyunjin.”

“Hey, why are you pointing me out?” Hyunjin whines and you reply for Minho.

“Because you're the only dumbass who ever actually is late.” 

“You say that like your middle name is punctual.” He retorts and he looks unreasonably attractive while doing so. You hate him for that.

“And? I've hardly been late to anything dickwad.” 

“Oh well, I might be 15 minutes late to practice but I'm still better than you aren't I?” 

“Oh fuck off,” you scoff. “You're about as better than me as I am better than Kirsten Dodgen.” 

“Come on, instead of making excuses, how bout you dance better ln?” He scoffs.

“How bout you shove your attitude up your ass, Hwang? Bragging doesn't make you superior.” He bends down to your face in the most condescending way ever. “Having something to brag about is what makes me superior, darling.” You're done with him.

“You'd be so much more likable if you weren't an utter bitch.” You see his gaze drop and you find yourself scoffing. If he chooses to make a conversation escalate he should deal with what's to come.

Before he can say something in return though, Minho interrupts him and drags him out. You walk out before Felix gets the chance to lecture you. 

☆⋆｡°⁠☆

You're in your common room snacking as Minho and Lix argue over their makeup styles. 

"Lemme do your makeup please?" Felix asks for the third time, giving Minho his best puppy eyes, and he is close to cracking, but he has a little bit of dignity left, so he turns to you for help. "Only if yn says so."

"I think lixie's style would look quite pretty on you Min." You munch on a chip, Felix jumping up with a 'yes!' while Minho just looks at you, betrayed. You give him a small smile as an apology.

You are lost in thoughts of how much you adore these two, heart warming at their silly dynamic when you hear a knock on the door. 

“I'll check it.” 

Out of all the people who could have possibly been at your door for any possible reason, it has to be Hwang Hyunjin. 

“Why are you here?” He doesn't give you a direct answer, which isn’t like him, but just looks at his shoes. 

“Can I talk to Lix-”

“He's not here.” You know he is, Hyunjin knows too, but you're not very keen on letting him in. But he doesn't try to force it, he looks almost desperate when he replies. 

“Please just let me talk to him for a moment?” Hyunjin isn't usually polite to you, so you don't actively block him and step aside to let him enter.

Felix is doing Minho’s eyeshadow when he sees him, mutters out a greeting, and only senses something is off when he pays attention to Hyunjin’s face.

“What's up, hyun?” 

“I- uh this is kinda weird but, there's a spare bed in your room right? Since your dorm is for four people.” 

“Jinnie hyung what happened?” 

“Well they're doing some emergency repair work in my room starting today evening and me and Jisung need a place to live for like a few days. Hotels are expensive.” Hyunjin looks the most embarrassed you've ever seen him, you don't know why but you definitely don't want him to stay.

“Jisung already found a place and uh, it's just for a few days-”

“It's ok hyung you can stay in mine.” Felix smiles at him and tells him to go get all the stuff he'll need for those few days. 

As soon as he's out the door you start, “Felix, what the fuck? Did you just invite him to stay over?” He sighs and gives you a look. 

“Look he's my best friend, he's not that bad, besides he's gonna be in my room and I'll keep him in check I promise. It'll be fine.” 

You didn't think it'd be fine. With Hyunjin around it'd never be fine. But you can't think of any way out other than shutting yourself in your room. That works fine for a few hours, Hyunjin brings over his stuff and you can make out sounds of the three boys playing games and goofing around. But you are human. You're hungry. 

You try your best to tiptoe to the kitchen, and you get in safely, but on your way back, you slam into Hyunjin. How fun.

“Come on, yn, at least walk properly.” He brushes himself off like he just touched dirt, and something about that gesture gets to you. In a moment he's shoved against the wall and his breath is knocked out of his lungs. You have him by the collar. 

“What is your problem with me, huh?”, you interrogate, his ears are red but his face is unyielding, “why do you insist on being such an asshole to me? What have I ever done to you?” He gulps but his gaze on you doesn't falter. In another world you'd see what your hand around his neck would feel like.

“You're the one who likes acting superior, someone has to remind you you're not.” He says and some thread of resolve deep within you snaps. 

“Look Hyunjin, I don't know what deep insecurity of yours makes you hostile towards me. But I'm tired of this,” you glare, “I'm tired of you.” 

“You think you have the right to say that huh?”, he scoffs at you, “you were so nice at first why did you decide to hate me all of a sudden?” It's ridiculous how he almost looks hurt. It draws a dry laugh out of you. 

“I'm sorry but I should be the one saying that. Because you were the one who decided to be offended in secret and suddenly start sounding like my-” you almost say it, the reason his words affect you so gravely.

“Like your what?”

“Nevermind.” You let go of his collar and step back, he's not worthy of hearing about your reasons. He stays in place, staring at the ground, when you're about to walk out he speaks.

“It's because I hate you.” He says, you turn to him as he continues. “Rephrase, I hate how nothing budges you. You make me think of everything in my life that's out of my control. You're this seemingly perfect human and nothing gets to you. I wanted to see how far you could be pushed before you break. But you didn't, you never do. And honestly, you make me insecure.” His gaze is fixed on the ground but the irony of the situation gets to you. 

A laugh is drawn out of you at the prospect. “That's low, even by your standard, Hyunjin.” 

“I wanted some confirmation that you're human, that you have insecurities and fears and triggers, but you never show them.” 

“Haven't you pulled enough of my triggers already? Why’re you so hellbent on creating problems for me?”

“Because I don't wanna be less than you,” he says, and the irony makes you wanna strangle him. He mutters a curse. “I have a question. Why did you say that last year?” He asks, much to your confusion.

“Say what?” You ask, he inhales deeply and bites his lip, you're momentarily distracted despite the situation.

“That party at Seungmin’s after summer? I heard what you said.” He looks almost vulnerable but you still don't know what he's talking about so he continues.

“You were talking to someone that day, I heard my name so I was curious, you said I remind you of all the bad things in your life. That you hated me. And you'd been acting so harsh with me that week.”

“What?”, it takes you a moment to register what he's talking about, “oh. That.” 

“Forget it, it wasn't about you.” You say and he smiles at the ground, “So you do hate me.” 

“No, it's not that-”

“Then what is it?” 

“I-, it's my dad. I don't wanna talk about it in detail but you're everything he's ever wanted of me, you remind me of him and you talk the same way. That summer was when I told him I'm not taking his shit anymore. I was telling Minho about it.” Hyunjin looks stunned at the confession. 

“I don't hate you, you know? You just seem like someone too good to be a friend of mine.” He says and you laugh.

“You're so dumb Hwang Hyunjin. I don't forgive you but for the sake of our friends,” you look up at him and he's never looked so expectant, “truce?” His expression changes and you can sense the teasing coming your way.

“Did you just say that? You do like me that much huh?” You slap his arm. 

“Shut up before I change my mind.”  

“Oh, by the way, Lix is playing Moana in a few minutes, he said it's one of your faves, go sit with them, he'll like it. I'll fetch snacks like he told me to.”

You end up watching the movie with them, your snacks are attacked, you discover that Hyunjin does have a sense of humor.

The next day is smoother, you didn't expect Hyunjin to stop being a loudmouth, and he doesn't, but it's more bearable than before, it's not quite friendly yet, you both need time to work to that level after the spontaneous truce, but it's bearable.  

A group study in the library that all four of you agreed to just turned into a heated debate about literature and he may beat you in a dance competition but you'd be damned if he ever beats you in a debate. 

“I may have mistaken the quote for a Khalil Gibran one because it was similar but you quoted Oscar Wilde in a hetero scenario. Come on. You didn't even know what place Odesseus ruled or why Troy happened.” You're in disbelief.

“Ok fine. You got me. I know nothing about literature, especially Greek. Happy?” He admits defeat and you've never felt better. 

“Oh, very happy.” You're sure the grin on your face is annoying the hell out of him. 

You all get home groaning about not wanting to work to make dinner. One thing none of you expected though, is that all of you will miss the snowstorm alert and the notice of classes being canceled. 

“GUYS WE'RE FUCKED!” Felix shouts from the couch where he and Hyunjin are playing a game as you and Minho cook, everyone gathers around the boy as he reads out the alert emailed to all students. Minho groans, you sigh and Felix sits dejected. 

“Why are you all so down? It's just a snowstorm.” Hyunjin says and Felix fills him in about the deteriorated condition of the heater and the potential threat of a power cut. Also the inevitable delay that will happen to his dorm’s repair work.

The dinner is silent not just because of the news but because Felix and Minho know tomorrow is your birthday. 

Felix and Hyunjin are just done doing the dishes when the younger perks up, “I know what to do! WE'LL MAKE A  WARM PILLOW FORT IN ONE OF THE ROOMS!” 

“Lix I don't think that's a good idea.” You're not very excited to do this with Hyunjin around but Minho makes it worse.

“See that makes sense, if all of us sleep in one room it'd be warmer.” You know there's no going back from that so you assist in moving mattresses and blankets to make the nest looking thing ‘for the slumber party’ as Felix says.

Someone's (yours) laptop is propped up on a piece of furniture and a Disney movie, this time of Hyunjin's choosing, is played.

Looking at it positively, there's snacks, you're warm, everyone is having fun while there's a snowstorm outside, you have no classes for two days. It's not that bad. 

No one knows who falls asleep first, but there's no power when you wake up way too early, you wish yourself happy birthday and get up for tea when you're ambushed. Minho seats you back down as he and Felix softly sing the Happy Birthday song in the dark, Hyunjin shifts and wakes up, confused very much at the strange spectacle. 

Phone flashlights are turned on when a Felix-made box of brownies is passed to you, Minho lights a mini candle that you blow out and make a wish. 

“You'll have to wait a little longer for your gifts, though.” Minho says as he gives you a hug. 

The day starts early and the power comes back on in a few hours as the storm calms down. You're told to dress up for the gift giving and Hyunjin is made cameraman. 

Felix gives you a novel you've been wanting for a while along with a beautiful necklace and Minho gets you perfume and calligraphy pens. Hyunjin apologizes for not knowing it's your birthday but you tell him you don't mind.

You're not allowed to help when Minho dictates Felix and Hyunjin as they make some of your favorite food. The spectacle is amusing as can be, Hyunjin is absolutely clueless about cooking and looks lost while Felix runs about trying to manage his tasks as Minho is busy at the stove. The meal is one of the best you've had in a while. 

This is how you like your birthdays, homely, cozy and a little bit silly. 

You didn't expect even a birthday wish from Hyunjin so it's certainly a surprise when he finds you later in the evening and hands you a small painting of a chrysanthemum. 

“I don't know what to give you so I made a painting of your birth flower, but I know you like blue so I made it blue.” 

“I don't- I didn't know you paint so well Hyunjin, this- it's lovely, you didn't have to. Thank you so much.” He just gives you a small smile, which you return.

The flower is beautiful and you notice it's the exact shade of blue as your outfit. You'll keep the painting safe. 

☆⋆｡°⁠☆

There's a couple of weeks left for the competition but your team is making great progress, you're all skilled, Minho is a great mentor and you find that Hyunjin's choreography style is quite similar to yours.

Speaking of Hyunjin, you've been getting along with him better. His jokes aren't as much attacks as they are annoying, he's dramatic and he's stupid but he's also quite thoughtful. Maybe he isn't all that bad.

Hyunjin makes a very unfunny joke and you lightly punch him in the ribs, looking up to find Minho giving you a suspicious look. “What?” He doesn't reply.

When you're all packing up to leave practice when Hyunjin speaks.

“I think we're friends now.” His tone is of false disbelief, he almost looks cute with that exasperated expression.

“God don't say that. I still wanna kill you every time I see you.” You say, but you're laughing. 

You wanna kill him, but you also kind of wanna kiss him. 

Wait. No. 

He's invited over to the dorm today despite his dorm having been fixed long ago. He's bringing Jisung with him, Felix and Jisung are already friends and Minho has taken a unique liking to the boy. 

The offer is of studying together and then later hanging with snacks to find an excuse to ditch a party none of you wanna go to. 

“I call dibs on the big chair!” Jisung yells and Felix claims the next best spot in his own room. Hyunjin settles on the floor because you claim Lix's bed before him and Minho claims another place. 

You throw a folded blanket at him, “Cushion your ass Hwang,” you smirk, “if you have any that is.” Jisung snorts in the corner. “Don't insult the man’s cake like that, yn!” 

A few hours pass with Jisung and Felix chatting between their work and Minho giving them endearing looks, you and Hyunjin just work but you can't help but notice how his eyes flicker to you every other minute. 

You find yourself staring at his lips as his tongue reaches out to wet them, you involuntary mimic his action. He's beautiful, undeniably, but he looks so soft in his pastel blue sweater that you almost forget you used to hate him. You wonder what his hugs feel like.

Wait. No. No, you don't. 

You run to your room to fetch your strawberry lipbalm. 

“Hyunjin put your laptop down for a sec,” he throws you a questioning glance but complies, the other three are too busy to notice what you're doing, the pad of your ring finger swipes the tinted product across his slightly chapped lips, “There.” 

You don't realize what you've until he gulps, “Shit, I'm sorry, I should've asked-”

“Thanks.” He looks a little red and you figure it's the embarrassment of it all. 

☆

You run across Hyunjin again, as he's returning from the kitchen and you're heading there, you walk towards him, not knowing what you're gonna say when the glossy red tint on his lips is so, so enticing. He doesn't protest when your hand is on his face, examining it. 

“The shade suits you.” His breath is uneven and he gulps, you notice his eyes darting down to the same shade on your lips. You don't know why you do it, or how you'll explain it. 

But you kiss him, his lips are every bit as soft as you imagined them to be everytime he bit them. You think you've fucked everything up until he kisses back uncertainly.

You part and your eyes drop down, so does the hand that was previously on his face.  

“I-”, you curse your words for failing you at that moment and the thousand jumbled thoughts in your head that make it difficult to think.

“This never happened.” You say, finally, as you step back. 

“Consider it forgotten.” He confirms. 

Him and Jisung leave after almost an hour, you won't be able to sleep today.

☆⋆｡°⁠☆ 

You said ‘this never happened’, you don't have any explanation of why it proceeded to happen many times afterwards. You would talk about it if only you understood what you're feeling, but you don't. And it's not messing anything up and none of you is ready to give the other an explanation.

There's two days left in the competition, and the preparation is finally done. All of you are satisfied with the final choreography and the decided outfits. Maybe you're a tad bit too interested in the pictures Hyunjin shows of him in his outfit.

Minho insisted for a last run with counts before the hour ended. You look at Hyunjin’s form as he dances, he has complete control over what beats he does and doesn't hit, he looks the best here, you think, in his element. Besides there's certain thoughts you have about his tank top and sweaty body, thoughts that you don't wanna acknowledge. The song ends and Hyunjin stops moving, much to your disappointment.

You look straight at him as you play 'Industry baby' and raise an eyebrow at him in challenge. “You first.” He accepts. The things you do to get Hwang Hyunjin dancing again. 

Minho and Felix both cheer on as the dance battle continues. You beat Yunho on this song and both of them know it. You see Hyunjin's eyes widen when you hit a beat in the chorus with your entire body. He whistles and you take that as an ego boost. The battle was in your favor. 

“Admit I'm better than you,” you say to him, he laughs in response, but not in the mocking way you're familiar with.

“It'd be a cold day in whatever hell you came from before I do that.” He raises a brow at you though he's smiling.

“Gotta tell my dad to turn the AC down.” You deadpan and the three boys snort. 

“Are your trauma jokes always necessary?” 

“No but they're funny so..” 

☆

You're at Hyunjin and Han’s dorm after practice and for a godforsaken reason, Minho and Felix are both somewhere else while you sit awkwardly in Hyunjin's desk chair with your drink. He's still in the shower, you were all previously in this room but the three decided to leave you alone with Hyunjin. They're doing that a lot these days. Hyunjin's blow dryer is loud. 

He steps out and you almost choke on your boba. He's shirtless. You look in the opposite direction as fast as you can.

“Don't worry, darling, you can look. I know I'm irresistible.” 

“Shut up before I throw my boba at you.” but you look anyway, he somehow looks better than what you'd imagined was under his tank top. 

This time you let your eyes trail over him, from collarbones to the slightly visible v-line above his sweatpants, just to see who looks away first. He feels your vision on him like it's cold winter air, but doesn't look away. 

You take that as a challenge, you put your drink away and walk to him. He doesn't look away. Your hand finds his waist, he inhales sharply and you pull him to you. Your other hand finds his nape when there's barely any distance left between you. He still doesn't give up. 

“It’s almost like you want me to do something,” you let your eyes run shamelessly across his skin, “tell me to stop.” He doesn't, so you kiss him. And he kisses back, this time with certainty. You let the feeling soak into you for a moment. It's him who takes it further, and you retaliate, you bite his lower lip right when you give his hair a little tug and he gasps into your mouth, his hands roam your body and you let them.  

You push him back until his knees hit his bed and he lets himself fall, his hands find your waist again as soon as you're straddling him, this time your hand is on his neck instead of his hair, you let him kiss you once more before your lips are attached to his jawline, then down to his collarbone, your teeth nip at his skin and your hand presses at the sides of his neck experimentally, his arms tighten around you and he moans. You peel yourself away from him to look at his face, the redness from his face has bled down his neck to half his chest. Cute.

“You're.. extremely red.” You say.

“Shut up.” 

“Like.. cherry red.” You tease.

“Go to hell.” You laugh but gasp when he pulls you down to lay over him and engulfs you in a sort of bear hug. It feels surprisingly nice. 

“I can't go back home right now but your company is a better substitute for hell don't you think?” He pushes you off of him at that. 

“Hey I was kidding-” 

There's a knock on the door and Hyunjin runs for his shirt and you run to fix your hair and grab your drink.

“What’re you guys doing in there with the door closed?” It's Han. You'd strangle him if he wasn't Minho's favorite.  

“Mind your own Jisung, I just got out of the shower!” Hyunjin yells, “And y'all were the ones who left me alone here what the fuck Han?” You add. 

There's things one only notices when they're very, very close to someone. Hyunjin has a faint mole under his left eye.

☆⋆｡°⁠☆

It's competition day and you have a problem. In the heat of the moment, you'd forgotten how low cut his stage outfit was. Now you're trying not to look as Jisung and Felix interrogate Hyunjin about where he got the hickeys from. He doesn't give anything away, thankfully, you're not ready to explain something you're not even sure about, but Minho has been awfully quiet and you think he's suspecting something. 

All thoughts leave your head as you hear the host of the evening start introducing the event, the order of performances is announced and Ateez is called on first, everyone expects them to win. There's a few more teams before you and your team is close to the last, you count a few possible opponents who are good competition, like the Soobin and Yeji’s teams, you know most of the participants from Uni. 

Watching others perform, you can feel the familiar pre performance adrenaline taking over. You love it. This rush is part of the reason you do dance competitively. 

Hyunjin comes up to you and gives your hand a little squeeze, “let's kill this yeah?” “Oh we absolutely will.” 

And you do. The cheers get louder as the performance progresses and choosing a song this heavy on beats may have cost all of you your lungs during practice, but you move like you know each other's bodies and Ateez doesn't look so smug anymore. The hyped crowd is all so worth it. 

As Felix predicted, the bridge is the part which gets the loudest cheers.

There's only two performances after yours and the results come in soon after. The host thanks the sponsors and announces the positions bottom to top. Yeji’s teams is runner up.

Soobin’s team is third. The boys hug each other before they run to collect their prize, their friends cheer for them. But your heart starts beating violently soon afterwards, you're standing behind MinLix, so Hyunjin takes your hand, he's jittery so you let him.

Ateez, Hongjoong’s team, is second. You heave a sigh of relief and Hyunjin relaxes, though he doesn't let go of your hand. Ateez boys look upset and you suppress the urge to smile. 

Your team is announced first place and the four of you jump in joy and you hear Jisung screaming from the audience. 

☆

You're all dizzy with laughter when Jisung excuses himself to go to the bathroom and MinLix leave to find a friend. Why do they keep doing that? 

Ateez takes this as an appropriate time to approach you two, though they don't even acknowledge your presence. Yunho keeps looking the opposite way, he always does that around you since he was beaten in the dance battle.

“You won't always keep winning Hwang.” Hyunjin rolls his eyes at him but looks uncomfortable, you identify this boy as Wooyoung. A more slender boy? person? human? approaches next with shocked eyes. 

“Is that a hickey, Jinnie?” Though he uses a nickname, it's clear that he means nothing good when he pokes Hyunjin's collarbone with his finger. Hyunjin mumbles a ‘shut up’ but they ignore him. Hyunjin looks like he'd rather be anywhere than here. The next one to say something is Hongjoong, you've seen him around. He's no good.

“Looks like the pretty boy has finally found himself a girlfriend. Or did you find a sugar daddy, Hyunjin? Where'd you get the hickey from?” The whole group snickers behind him and Hyunjin is clenching his jaw. He looks angry and you decide to do something.

“Well he got it from me. You got a problem with that?” You raise a brow at the man, he's barely taller than you.

“Oh come on, l/n. Everyone knows you hate him. Why defend him just because he's on your team?” You take a step further, and look directly at him. 

“Are you calling me a liar, Kim Hongjoong?” He smirks back at you and you never thought any smirk except Hyunjin's could ever make you this angry, but you wanna punch him in the face right here. 

“No, l/n. I'm just saying that's a little difficult to believe considering you were at each other's throats not long ago. If you want us to believe, why don't you give us some proof, eh?” He sneers, clearly expecting you to falter and deny the whole thing.

You laugh at his face, “You want proof huh? Well, how about this?” You turn and kiss Hyunjin, with your arms around his shoulders and his around your torso. Deep enough to make them uncomfortable.

“Alright we get the point. Enough. You're in public, l/n.” When you part, Hyunjin smiles at them in a way you know will piss them off. Because it did the same to you not long ago.

“Well you're the one who wanted proof Kim. Now fuck right off. If I see you bothering my arch enemy again, you won't be allowed into the art history class anymore. Mark my words.” 

You drag Hyunjin to a quiet corner, away from the crowd and shoot a text to the other boys telling them to meet you both at Hyunjin's dorm. 

You check up on the boy and he looks miserable. “Hey. You fine? I'm sorry I should have let you deal with it without interfering.” You apologize but he shakes his head.

“No, that was really funny, I'm sure it pissed them off, just- I'm sorry you had to witness that.” He looks dejected and you can't find it even in the cruelest parts of you to not help him.

“Hey. Listen. I don't care what they think of themselves but they don't deserve to make you feel bad about anything. And I don't think any less of you because they decide to be assholes, if anything I respect you more now.” He gives you a small nod and a smile, this time, an actual, genuine smile.

“Would mind if I just..” he wraps his arms around you and his head comes to rest on your shoulder, “stay like this for a bit?” You hug him back and nothing needs to be said for a while. Hyunjin's hugs do feel nice.

When you bring him back to his dorm, the joke on the tip of Jisung’s tongue doesn't get the chance to escape. He looks concerned for Hyunjin, that's the first time you've seen the boy serious. They exchange glances and it's like he just knows what happened. 

The evening is a quiet sort of celebratory, and you find yourself trying to avoid Hyunjin as much as possible. How are you going to explain anything you're feeling to him when you can't even explain it to yourself? Minho and Jisung make everyone ramen and a sleepover ensues. You're all in Jisung’s room, him and Minho in the same bed, you, Felix and Hyunjin on the floor. Why Hyunjin's not in his own bed is weird to you. Maybe sleepover spirit.

When you wake up to get water you find Hyunjin isn't in his place anymore. He isn't in the kitchen either. You're avoiding him but you don't wanna be the prime suspect if he's found dead. 

You roam around and find him his room, sketching in the faint light of his night light like the lunatic he is, you smack the back of his head, you forgot how dramatic he can be, and you have to cover his mouth so he doesn't scream. “Shut up, you idiot. It's me,” he licks your hand, “eww. Filthy.” You wipe the hand on his shoulder.

“You literally made out with me in public, how's that filthy?” You notice what he's wearing, a white shirt, with the first two buttons undone. You smack him again.

“You idiotic dunce! Do you wanna catch a fucking cold it's literally late November!” He winces and reaches for the sweater beside him, you try to see what he's sketching but he hides it with almost superhuman speed. “Chill Hyunjin, I don't wanna spy on you.” 

“Why are you awake?” He asks.

“I could ask you the same thing.” 

“I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep.” 

“Samesies. Though unlike you, I don't voluntarily ruin my eyesight when I wake up a bit too early.” You gesture to the lack of light and he sighs.

“What do you do then?” The question catches you off-guard, it sounds genuine and for some reason you answer it genuinely.

“I write poems. In light.”

“Poems about what?” 

“That's none of your business.” Your voice suddenly sounds cold and you curse yourself for turning out so hostile with your reply. 

“Sorry. I won't intrude-”

“No. I- I don't like sharing it. I don't like sharing at all actually.”

“I get that. There's parts of me I don't like sharing either. Don't feel bad about it.”

“Why didn't I ever notice how thoughtful you are?” 

“Maybe cuz you never tried to.” He presses his lips together and you suddenly feel bad about yourself. 

“Hey,” he says, “I wanna say sorry. I know how much of an asshole I've been to you. It doesn't deserve much forgiveness but it's bothering me a lot. So I say it again: I'm sorry for everything I've said and done.”

You search your brain for any reasons to not forgive him. But with the way he's been the last month, you don't find any. “I forgive you.” You say, and it's like some invisible tension is released from his body. He smiles at you. “Thank you.” 

“Hyunjin?” 

“Yes?” 

“Let's get to know each other more.”

“How?” 

“I'll ask a question, we both answer it, then you ask one.” He nods, so you ask.

“What's something you'd do if money wasn't a factor? I'd be a philosopher or a writer.” 

“I'd be an artist or a dancer maybe. If you could live in one fictional universe, which one would it be? I'd love to be in the Harry Potter universe but the author’s racist.” 

“I think I'd like to live in either Dan Brown's or Rick Riordan’s books.” 

“What's something you wish more people in the world understood?”

That night you feel closer to him than you've ever been. You discover Hyunjin is an incredibly sentimental person, he also is a romantic, he's an only child, his parents are divorced, he has a dog back at home. So many things you never knew about him. He's flawed, you're flawed, but he’s not a bad human being. You hope you aren't one either. 

Ofcourse him being a thoughtful person doesn't rule out the annoying ass he is.

You both don't go to sleep again, you chat while he continues his drawing and you scroll through your notes app editing your writings. You find yourself enjoying his company. Two months ago, if someone told you you'd find peace around him, you would have laughed. 

☆

The five of you seem to stay together almost all the time now that Jisung is also a part of the group. The text comes when you're all out eating a few days later. Minho is offended when you forget to answer his question in favor of staring at your phone. When he sees your expression is when he realizes something's off. 

“What's wrong?” He says, and everyone’s eyes are on you. 

“He wants to meet me. Tomorrow. He's coming here.” Minho doesn't need another word to understand what you're talking about, but the rest of the boys stay confused. Yet no one questions why you excuse yourself in the middle of the meal to go back home. 

Minho doesn't disturb you when you lock yourself in the room you both share, choosing to sleep in Felix’s room instead. He knows you'll need to deal with your father alone. Even if the man refuses to let you be when you've practically abandoned him. 

The next day you leave the house after they're both gone for their last classes. You don't expect the meeting with your father to be anything good, but you know that he'll hunt you down to your dorm or lectures if you don't go where he wants you.  

He never is genuinely happy to see you, you learnt to tell his expressions apart when you were 8, and his smile right now is definitely a fake. He orders a coffee for himself and you politely deny his offer to get you one as well.

He says the same thing he does every time you meet him, trying to convince you of God knows what. You're tired of having this same conversation over and over again.

“Don't do this to me. You're my child.”

“I’m not just your child, I'm a person. You've done enough damage. Stay away from me.” 

“But how can you leave me alone? I'm getting older and I have no one to rely on-” 

“And whose fault is that?” 

“I'm sorry! Ok? But you don't respect me, can't I even want respect and company from my child?” The statement makes you wanna punch him but you just laugh. 

“Don't start talking about respect. Respect is earned, and you did nothing to earn it. And if you couldn't give me the love and support you should have given your child, at least give me the privacy and independence every human deserves.” 

“But-”

“I told you that day. I don't know you anymore. It'd be wise of you to stay away from me if you don't want the police called on you.” 

He tries to say more but you just walk out of the cafe and back to your dorm. You know he won't follow you. He's too egoistic for that. 

☆⋆｡°⁠☆

Minho hasn't slept in his own bed for two days, and you haven't seen sunlight in quite a while. The stream of texts your father sent you after your meeting, accusing you of being an ungrateful offspring and a useless human were much more depressing than the real conversation, the one you didn't allow to happen. Finally blocking him felt good nonetheless. You're tired of the responsibility of interacting with him.

You get out of bed and your entire body feels stiff, and your eyes are glitching. Maybe keeping the blinds down for two whole days wasn't a good idea. And you smell. But you still can't find the willpower to shower. 

There's a knock on your door. Minho.

“Yn? You there? I need something from my closet.” You open the door for him and his demeanor softens at your state. He knows you since highschool, he's the only one who knows what's going on and the extent to which it matters.

“Hey. Why don't you go shower, hm? The boys are all outside, they're concerned cuz they haven't seen you for some time but I'll tell them not to worry, ok?” You probably should shower. You nod at him and step out to go to the bathroom. 

Your body feels a lot better afterwards, but the world still sort of feels colorless, you decide to go get some food other than the snacks you lived on for two days. Maybe some actual food will make you feel better. There's a sticky note from Minho addressed to you on the microwave.

‘your meal inside :) finish it all’ 

You smile. He never stops taking care of all of you, that's how he shows you love.

The meal makes you feel a little alive, but the color in your world is still absent.

The boys ask you if you're ok on you way back to your room, you give them a small smile and true to Minho's words, none of them tries to dig you for information. You do notice the unexpected concern on Hyunjin's face. Weird.

Maybe you should go to your classes tomorrow.

☆

The crowd of the noon classes will never be something you like, but at least your first class is something you like and share with Hyunjin and Felix. You zone out somewhere in the middle of the lecture and your brain, your actual enemy, decides to give you thoughts about your upbringing. No matter how hard you try to focus on something else, your mind gets stuck on how unfair your father always was to you. How he deserves to die alone. How you don't feel sorry for saying that. Your lungs have been restricted since that day, but it's becoming more difficult for you to breathe every minute. You need to get out of here. You really need to get out of the crowd before you start hyperventilating.

Hyunjin saw you hurriedly ask the professor to excuse you, he asked the professor to let him go after you, and seeing how you looked, the professor let him. 

You haven't had a meltdown in a long time and your lungs burn as your breathing becomes labored, you find a quiet corridor to hide from the footsteps behind you. 

Your legs go weak and the weight of the ceiling doubles and presses down on your head. You drop to your knees. 

“Yn!” His hand is on your shoulder and you swat it away before you can even comprehend it. Things are too fast, way too fast for your brain to help. 

“Get away!” You can't have him here right now, not when you're vulnerable and he has the power to rip you apart. Your brain doesn't trust him with this.

“Let me help-” 

“I don't need help! Es- Especially from you.” You never see the hurt that flashes in his eyes because something that feels like a strong blow to your chest knocks the air out of your lungs. You clutch your top, even the fabric feeling like a restriction on breathing. 

You hear him mumble a ‘fuck it'  before he knnels down beside you and you're pressed to his chest in a protective hug. Your mental barrier collapses. 

Tears escape you like a dam overflowing, your brain not functional enough to form a coherent sentence. Years of bottled up hurt, the emotionally overwhelming events of the last few days and the unpleasant reminders of everything you lack flow out in ugly sobs as Hyunjin runs a comforting hand across your back. No questions asked. You surprise yourself with how broken your crying sounds.

Your breathing is choked and painful, quite like your life in your childhood home. But there was no one to help you calm down there, no one telling you ‘its okay, you're safe, try to follow my breathing hm?’

You follow his instructions the best you can, calming down enough for some air to flow into your lungs. He makes you drink water and runs to the lecture hall to fetch both of your backpacks. He takes you back to your dorm and gets you a snack without asking a single question. He deems your own room too depressing for you to stay in so he brings you to the kitchen. He observes you carefully until he's sure you're fine.

“I know you don't trust me to help you,” he sighs and regret washes over you like a wave, “forget about the rest of your classes today, get some rest. I'll go back now-” He reaches for his backpack when you speak up. 

“Hyunjin- wait.” He says nothing, but just looks at you, wanting you to continue. 

“Stay,” you say, your eyes still burn from the crying and you don't want to feel alone anymore, “please.” 

He sighs and sets the backpack down. 

“I don't want you to tell me everything, but I can't help if I have no idea what's wrong.” 

He lets you reach out to hug him, you ignore all the confusing feelings in the back of your head. 

“I'm sorry. Even talking about it reminds me of the details. And that usually ends up worse than what happened a few minutes ago.” 

“Mhm.” His hand pats down your messed up hair and you don't remember a touch ever being this comforting.

“It's my dad. I met him a couple days ago, he tried to get me to stay around because apparently he doesn't wanna die alone. But I refused and walked out. He resorted to his old behavior and flooded my texts with all the things he always keeps saying about me. About how I'm useless, no good at anything I do, disrespectful and not worthy of any love and things like that. It got to me more than it should have, but hey, I finally blocked him.”

“I'm proud of you for doing that. And let me tell you something. You're incredibly good at everything you do. You're so smart, and such a good dancer. I was so jealous of you when I first met you.” He says, and you believe him despite your brain saying he's lying to you. 

“Your friends all love you so much. Would you really let a man with no company tell you whether you deserve love or not?”

“But I haven't earned it. I've done nothing to deserve that love.” He makes a disbelieving sound at the statement.

“Love isn't something you have to earn, it's something that is given out of will. And if someone gives you their love without you asking for it. Then you certainly deserve it. Whoever tries to tell you otherwise is lying to you, ok? It took me a while to understand this but trust me. It's the truth.” You nod into his shoulder before you break the hug to look at him. 

“Since when do you care about me, huh?” You joke, not even expecting an answer but he gives you one. 

“Since when? I don't know. All I know is I care about you a lot. I don't like seeing you hurt. Which, again, makes me feel guilty as fuck for acting like I did to you. I don't know why I was so selfis-” 

“Shh, it's in the past now, we're even. I don't mind having you around now.” 

“Is that you being soft for me darling?” There goes his teasing, this warrants the punch in the rib you give him. He grunts in response but laughs anyway. 

“Would you find it funny if I ask you for cuddles right now?” You say, and he looks surprised, but happy nonetheless. 

“I'd find it adorable.” You drag him to your bed. 

“We need to make your room look less depressing after this okay?” He says and you nod before you let yourself fall on top of him, getting an ‘oof’ in reply before he arms come up to hold you. 

You feel puzzled about this whole situation with him and matter how much you like it, you need to clarify it. 

“Hey, Hyunjin?” He hums.

“This, whatever it is, do you want it? Should we like, talk about it?” He doesn't get angry like you expected him to, but replies calmly. 

“I like whatever it is. If you wanna talk about it, we should. I'm not sure I even have a name for it though.”

“I don't have one either. I don't really understand feelings. But I don't want this to stop. Do you?” 

“No. No I don't.”

“Minho knows something's up with us.” 

“I know, I've seen him looking at us suspiciously, though I don't think he hates it though.”

“He's my insurance. Just know he'll murder if you decide to become a bitch to me again.” 

“I won't. Promise.”

☆

You're both up before the other occupants of your dorm come back with Jisung inevitably tagging along. When Minho comes back the first thing he does is check up on you. You tell him about the little breakdown and Hyunjin helping you. He stares at Hyunjin for a good minute as if gauging him for signs of danger but then shrugs and thanks him.

You explain your complicated relationship with your father in minimal detail to the other two boys just so they don't worry too much in uncertainty. It is decided that everyone will go out together to eat and celebrate the upcoming winter break. 

You don't go home for winter break, but Felix and Minho do, so does Jisung, so it's just you and Hyunjin together for Christmas. You don't hate the prospect. 

Two days after the three boys are gone you two decide it's better staying in one place than continuously having to meet each other to prepare for the celebration. You don't hate this either. 

Hyunjin is fun to be around, he's hilarious on top of being beautiful, you're almost sure you have feelings for him, feelings of what sort and how deep, that you don't know. Maybe you'll add one more poem about it to the collection that has been growing everyday. 

You learn he's much more affectionate than you thought he'd be, he's almost always close to you. He isn't clingy per se, but he's always close. Like right now. 

You're trying one of Minho’s recipes and he has got you convinced there's flour on your face, though you're sure you've added more flour to your face in your attempts to remove the original bit because he's laughing like you're a clown. 

“Hyunjin if you're not helping I'm going to the bathroom to wash it off-”

“Wait.” He cups your face and swipes his thumb at your jaw to get the first bit off, he's closer than he needs to be, though you don't think you care. The second bit of flour is on your forehead apparently, that's where his hand is even though his eyes are on your lips. You're almost certain he wants to kiss you. So you do the next reasonable thing. 

Put flour on his nose and run. 

“Hey! Not fair!” He tries to catch you but fails, and like you're toddlers, a game of chase starts.

“Come back here!” He laughs and you return it. 

“Nope. Not coming back there.” You run up to Lix's room.

“Alright have it your way.” He grabs a pillow and before you can tell him no, you're in the middle of a pillow fight. He tries to hit you on the head but misses, and your pillow lands square in his face. He recovers soon after though, and somehow manages to snatch away your pillow and pin you down on the bed.

You're both dizzy with laughter. “All I wanted was a kiss! The betrayal! I want payback!” He complains like the dramatic toddler he is. “Well deal with it Hwang. You're not getting any kisses on Lix’s bed, have some shame.” You push him off in a moment of weakness and take off again.

“NOT AGAIN!”

“The stuff in the oven will burn dumbass!” 

The dinner is made and eaten without incident, thankfully. You make Hyunjin sleep in Felix's room, being pretty doesn't give him an automatic ticket to yours, you like occupying all the space by yourself.

☆⋆｡°⁠☆

You're cold. Too cold. It's almost as if the coldness has seeped into your bones. With every moment the pressure on your body increases, you feel like you're drowning, when your eyes open all you see is a distorted sheet of blue. You are drowning. Your body is slowly sinking deeper. The pressure is pressing down on your brain and your ribs, you call for help but your words aren't heard, not even by you. You scream but no sound escapes your watery prison, you strain your throat with how hard you're trying to make a sound, to scream for help- 

You wake hyperventilating, like you always do from this same nightmare. It takes you a good minute to catch your breath. 

The next thing you do is calculate how much self respect you can sacrifice from your dwindling resources to fall asleep again. Because you certainly won't be able to sleep alone for the rest of the night. 

His door’s open. Maybe disturbing him a little wouldn't hurt? Well that would be the case if he were sleeping. 

“Are you fucking nocturnal?” You say, and you watch him jump and the phone fall from his hand.

“God who even lurks in the dark like that? How do you not make a sound? Are you a vampire?” 

“I dunno. Instincts. Not a vampire though, sadly. Why’re you up?”

“Can't sleep. You?”

“Stupid dream.” You seat yourself beside him. You both seem to have something against sleeping properly.

“Wanna talk about it?” He's put his phone down, you notice. 

“Only if you tell me why you never sleep.” He contemplates for a moment then shrugs. 

“No details but nights never meant good things for me growing up. I'm a light sleeper and on the bad days even footsteps wake me up. Sometimes I can't sleep at all.” He shrugs.

“I can sleep most nights, but I have this recurring dream where I'm drowning for some reason. I can't sleep after waking up from that one. Why are nights bad for you? Memories?” 

“Yeah. I don't like talking about it.” 

“You wanna try going back to sleep or you wanna do something else?” You ask.

“I’d go back to sleep but it seems impossible now.” You don't remember ever relating to him as much as you do right now.

“C'mere.” You gesture to the space beside you, to your surprise he doesn't protest. “Talk to me about anything until it's morning or one of us starts feeling sleepy.” And he does. Your discussion goes from fiction to emotions to the way people behave and then back to anime then to art to poetry and then what not. But when you wake up, there's so much light in the room that you're almost sure it's noon. And you can't move. 

“Hyunjin. Wake up.” He doesn't. “Hyunjin! You stupid ferret, get off me.” He budges a little at that. So much for claiming to be a light sleeper huh? You need to push him off of you before you can get up and check the time. 

11:40 am. Wow. That's a solid 7 hours of sleep. 

You get up to clean up and find something to eat. By the time you shower and dig into your bowl of cereal, Hyunjin finds his way to the kitchen with a puffy face. Adorable. 

“Good Morning, ferret. Sleep well?” You joke. 

“Very well actually, why're you eating cereal…. sitting on the table?” 

“I dunno,” you shrug, “seemed fun.”

You're never witnessed an actually groggy Hyunjin before this and it's hilarious. He's dazed and almost hit his head on the counter. Thrice. It's almost surprising that he manages to get himself water without breaking anything.

“You left me alone.” He complains when you're done washing your cereal bowl. 

“Well I'm sorry but I had to. I was hungry.” 

“No fair.” In a few seconds you discover handling the weight of a tall guy is quite a task. Is it a hug or are you being crushed to death? You're not sure. “Ok I'm sorry let me breathe please!” 

You can finally breathe when he lets go of you, “Now go shower. Your breath’s nasty.” He doesn't reply but just messes up your hair before running off. 

☆⋆｡°⁠☆

You should have known. Maybe you can't let good things happen to yourself without attempting to destroy them.

“You're not the brightest outside class, are you Hwang?” You're watching him struggle with figuring out what spice is what. 

“You only say that cuz you're jealous of my class smarts.” He rolls his eyes at you.

“Oh please, you were behind me by a whole grade in two classes last semester.”

“That wasn't my 100%, I had stuff to deal with.” 

“All excuses, aren't they?” 

“Everything is a competition for you isn't it?” He sounds disappointed but you're not the bigger person.

“Isn't it for you too?” 

“No it isn't. Forgive me for not wanting to compete for everything in my life.” 

“Why? Scared?” The conversation escalates before you realize it and you blame your tendency to argue with him.

“Why are you so obsessed with being the best?” He's no longer calm.

“You tell me. You were the one mocking me for always being second for a whole damn year!”

“Oh come on, there's more to it! Why are you so fragile about it?” 

“You and your taunts are all there is to it and I'm reacting like anyone would. Why were you so insistent on beating me in everything?” 

“Oh, come on! There's definitely stuff you're not saying, why can't you open up to me?” 

“I don't want to say anything. Why the fuck do you even want me to open up to you?” 

“Because I want to fix this!” 

“And why does fixing it matter?” 

“Because I like you god damn it! Are you that dumb?” 

“Bullshit. You suddenly like me after a whole year of hating me huh?” 

“Why else do you think I'm doing this? Why else would I agree to this?” 

“Maybe cuz it'd make for a very funny scenario don't you think? ‘Hey look at them developing feelings for me just because we stopped trying to kill each other’ sounds hilarious doesn't it?” You don't even know where all this is coming from but you never completely ruled out the prospect of all this being an act on his side. 

He didn't think so, that much is visible on his face when you finally find the guts to look at him. Fuck. You just can't stop hurting people in your life huh? 

“I'm sorry.” You apologize before you turn to leave, but he doesn't let you. Instead of being angry like you thought he'd be, he just pulls you into a hug. The gesture does something to you that you can't quite figure out. 

“Let go of me.” You don't want him to, but you can't find the courage to face this. You're too weak.

“No. I'm not letting you go anywhere.” 

“I don't deserve this Hyunjin. Staying for me will get you nowhere. You're stupid if you-”

“Well, I’m sorry I fell in love with you, okay? But it happened and I can’t do shit about it.” 

“You… what?” That's not a confession one would expect out of him. But you can't say you didn't do the same.

“You heard me. And I'm not letting you leave without even trying.” You've never heard so much emotion in his voice, even in the few months that you both spent together, you're sure his eyes would be glossy if you look at him now. So you don't.

“But-”

“We need to sort this out, yeah? You can't keep running from everything.” 

Your tears always choose the worst time to appear. 

“I'm so fucking sorry, I didn't-, I'm not…… used to feeling this way ok?” 

“I know. And that's fine. I never expected this to be easy. It's okay.”

“I'm sorry I- I want to trust you. I want to. But it's so difficult..” 

“I don't blame you. We both barely know about the things that we had to deal with. Trust doesn't happen without communication does it? That's why we need to talk to each other. About everything. Even the stuff we don't like sharing. Nothing will work without that, right?” 

It feels like he knows how to take your jumbled up mess of thoughts and feelings and make sense of it in ways you don't even understand. So you talk, about everything you don't like sharing, about your fears and their origins, about the troubles you have with trusting people, about the insecurities you relate to your image, about the pressure you keep putting on yourself to be the best there is and why you do so. 

And he does too, about the way he feels out of control of everything and why that happens, how it feels like an obligation to put his own feelings aside and live by the reputation expected of him, about why loud footsteps or just loud sounds scare him, why yelling brings back bad memories, how he feels like he's carrying a heavy weight from his past along with him wherever he goes, how his coping mechanisms have caused both of you damage. 

And by the end of the conversation it doesn't feel so difficult to trust him anymore. He wouldn't hurt you, not on purpose at least. If he does, well, maybe you want to take the chance. For the sake of it. Maybe you don't hate the feeling of vulnerability. 

“If I fuck this up,” you look at him as you speak, “promise me you'll leave.” 

“You won't. I know.” 

“I hope you're right. I'm sorry for being so stupid.” 

“If we want this to work the first thing you'll have to do is stop apologizing for everything.” It's almost like you're a toddler being scolded. 

“I'm sorr-”

“Not again.” 

“Shit my bad-”

“Hey!”

“Okay! I get it! No saying sorry for everything.” 

“Good.” 

You like his hugs. They're warm. But you also like chaos. So you pinch his waist, the boy is dramatic, of course he jumps and looks at you with the most disbelieving wide eyes.

“What was that for?” 

“That was for being stupidly pretty.”

“So we're doing compliments now, darling?” He's never gonna stop doing this is he?

“If you use the tease voice I'll pinch you harder I swear.”

“Not sure I'd mind,” before he can finish the sentence though, you have him trapped between your arms and the dinner table, he seems quite happy with it, “you seem to like me quite a lot, don't you darling?” 

“And? What if I do?” 

☆⋆｡°⁠☆

Your roommates expected to find stuff when they returned from their homes, but stuff definitely didn't include you and Hyunjin arguing over who gets the last piece of cake. The fight seemed…. unserious.

They definitely didn't expect it to end in you and him sharing the last bit. You and Hyunjin. Sharing. Unheard of.

The real surprise came when they were done unpacking. You caught Felix in his room. 

“Hey Lix, guess what?” Poor sweet soul of his, already interested in what you have to say.

“What?”

“I'm dating someone.”

“WHAT? Who?!” 

“Try guessing.” He looks confused but attempts nonetheless.

“Soyeon?” 

“Look I mentioned her being hot one time. That don't mean I'm dating her.” 

“Then who?” 

“Who did I spend winter with?” He gives you a look that says ‘bitch tf’.

“Oh come on. I may be a little clueless but there's no fucking way you're dating Hwang Hyunjin.”

“Oh yeah? Why don't you go ask him? He's explaining the same thing to Minho right now.” 

You find them in the kitchen, and as you expected, Minho looks like it's a normal day for him. No surprise at all. 

Felix however, is quite close to losing it. 

“Hyunjin. Tell me they're making a fool of me.” He says, but Hyunjin stays silent and you fear Felix is actually on the brink of insanity. 

“What the fuck.” It's almost a whisper when he says it. Both you and Hyunjin cannot hold back your laughter. Their reaction was exactly what you predicted.

Minho is the one who speaks up next.

“Come on, Lix. These two weren’t even that subtle. Where'd you think Hyunjin got that hickey from? Just a few weeks after these two stopped fighting? Why do you think I insisted on leaving them alone together?” 

You knew it was his plan. How else would you end up alone with Hyunjin at the most convenient times ever?

“Lee Minho you little fucker, you better sleep with one eye open.” You joke.

“Look at how ungrateful you are. I helped you and you give me death threats? Betrayal,” he's smiling at you, when he turns to Hyunjin however, he looks murderous, “if I hear you hurt my best friend in any way, the world will run out of places for you to hide in. Trust me on that.” 

“Enough Min, you'll scare away my boyfriend.” 

Boyfriend huh? That felt nice to say. 

“Now who's gonna tell Jisung?” 

“Let's all just head to his dorm. Help the boy with unpacking too.” 

“You seem keen on meeting him, Min. What's the matter?” The question only gets you elbowed in the rib.

Jisung's reaction is as loud as you anticipated but he doesn't seem too surprised, you ask him why.

“Oh Hyunjin always rants about things, I'm his roommate, I figured something was up with you.” 

Later, when you have your boyfriend to yourself, you decide to ask him about it.

“So, about what Jisung said”

“Don't believe him, I beg you.”

“Save the begging for other things, I'd say it's pretty plausible, considering you rant about a lot.”

“I do NOT monologue about my crushes, case closed.” Hyunjin really needs to control his fidgeting if he wants to get away with lying. 

You cup his face, “Why are you denying it? It's adorable.” 

“Not funny?”

“Maybe a little funny.” The urge to kiss his nose is strong, so you don't fight it. You die a little when he scrunches up his face on reflex. 

He's adorable and maybe you're a little obsessed.

“I can't believe cornering you somewhere is all it takes to make you blush!” You laugh, because you have him cornered right now. Against his desk this time. 

“It is not!” He defends himself to no avail, it makes you laugh, you're growing increasingly fond of him. 

“Such a pretty liar, huh? Quit trying to deny it, love.” That's the first affectionate nickname you've given him. And its effect is visible, if the smile on his face is anything to go by.

“Shut up and kiss me.” 

“How demanding.” But you do it anyway. And he takes it forward, like he does everytime, this time you're not confused. You want him. He wants you. And it's the best feeling ever. If he walks out of this room with hickeys later on, you don't need to act clueless. He's yours. 

But with the way his lips attach to your skin, maybe you'll be the target of your friends’ judgemental glances as well this time. You don't mind. You're his. 

If Jisung comes knocking now you're pretty sure you won't hear it over Hyunjin. The boy is sensitive. 

☆

“Maybe getting those two together was a bad idea, I can hear them and I'm sitting in a different room!” 

“Leave them alone, let's go to ours. We can't keep sitting here any longer like we're not hearing anything.” 

☆⋆｡°⁠☆

Hwang Hyunjin, how you love him and how his existence is a slap in the face of your father. He's everything good. But first off he's yours. And he loves you. Maybe clay doesn't need to be broken to be fixed, maybe if you just paint over the fingerprints and love the shapes as they are, you'll see some beauty in it. Hyunjin sees beauty in you that's for sure, he never seems to get tired of drawing you, being someone's muse is a wonderful feeling. He's your muse as well though, with the entire collection of writings he's prompted by simply existing. You recited some to him one day, maybe you'll give him a handwritten version of the rest on his birthday.

☆

You think it's ironic, you're back where you started, movie night in your dorm. Only this time you're tangled up with Hyunjin and the three boys are in a weird heap of limbs. Whatever they are, they're your friends. You're not gonna judge. 

But they will definitely keep judging the PDA Hyunjin makes them all witness. 

“You're both disgusting!” It's Jisung, and he's pulled back to sit by a worked up Felix. “He meant disgustingly cute!” 

“Why are you running damage control? They are disgusting.” That's Minho, just trying to eat his pudding.

This is how you like stuff, cozy, homelike, and a little bit silly.  

☆

“HWANG HYUNJIN DID YOU EAT THE LAST CUPCAKE?” 

“I didn't know it was yours!” You will chase him around the place until you get payback. You can hear the other boys laughing their asses off at how terrified Hyunjin is. 

He tries to take off in the opposite direction of you but is a few seconds late. 

“Caught ya! Now apologize!” You pinch his ear and his yelp is the most amusing thing for Jisung, it seems.

“Ow! I'm sorry your majesty! I will never touch your food again.” You almost think you've won before he runs off. You catch him again, obviously. This time in your room. 

“You little thief Hwang, I hate you.” You're out of breath and you're laughing. “Hate and love, same thing aren't they, darling?” He will never stop with that teasing tone. 

“Hmm, maybe you need a better lesson. You're lucky you're pretty, love.” His hair is messed up and he's slightly out of breath, there's a lopsided grin on his face. He's probably the prettiest being to ever exist.

You lean close and the expression on his face shifts a little, he looks a little doubtful, uncertain, almost vulnerable.

“Do you really want me?” He wants you to affirm it, to assure him.

“You know I do.”

☆⋆｡°⁠☆

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Fight

Summary: When you get a phone call from your elementary school that your girls got into a fight, Javi leaves work to figure out what happened.

Word Count: 3.6K

Pairing: Dad!Javi x Wife!reader (No use of y/n)

Warnings: Violence (the Peña girls get in a fight at school), bullying, the Peña girls being little badasses, Javi being a proud dad, idk everything I post for this series is gonna be sickeningly sweet, I'm not sure what to tell you 😩

A/N: I literally had this idea on the drive into work this morning, got a terrible migraine, went home, woke up and wrote this in like an hour 🤪 This was inspired by @bbiophiliaa asking me about the girl's personalities, and I think this sums it up pretty darn well! GOD I LOVE THIS FAMILY YALL GOTTA SEDATE ME

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the NTL universe!

Series Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

The phone number for Alma Pierce Elementary was one you recognize like the back of your hand. If it weren’t for all the years you’d worked there as a teacher, the fact that two of your three daughters now attended there as 1st and 3rd graders meant that you had the school’s phone number memorized almost as well as your own. That’s why when you got a phone call from Alma Pierce in the middle of the day, while waiting in the lobby of your pediatrician’s office for an appointment with your youngest (and her never ending cold that she couldn’t seem to shake), you were surprised to see the number that you knew all too well pop up on your caller ID. 

Being a former teacher, your girls knew better than to try and play sick and call home to get out of school, and noting their usual chipper and enthusiastic demeanor this morning when you dropped them off, you found it hard to believe that a mystery illness had plagued them enough in the past few hours to warrant a call home. You ran through your mental checklist in your head of your morning routine, almost positive that Lucy and Elliot had both their lunches, gym shoes, and no after school activities that they would have forgotten anything for. Your phone continued to ring, a now slightly unsettling feeling building in your stomach as you began to wonder the reason for the midday call. 

“Hello?” you answered, bouncing a sleepy, snotty Harper in your lap as you sat waiting in the uncomfortable fake leather of the doctor’s office chair. 

“Hi Mrs. Peña, it’s Principal Coleman.” 

Oh god. 

While Lucy and Elliot were your daughters in every sense that they were just as feisty and stubborn as you, they were sweet girls, and knew better than to do anything to break the rules or be disrespectful at school.

Or, so you thought.

Your heart began to sink to the pit of your stomach, knowing that a call from the Principal at 1:30 in the afternoon most likely didn’t mean good news, letting out a quiet deep breath before responding. 

“Hi Principal Coleman, how are you?” 

“Well Mrs. Peña, I’m going to start off by saying I’m just as shocked as you probably are about the reason behind this phone call.” 

Oh sweet Jesus, what did these two do? 

You paused for a moment before Principal Coleman spoke again, without even giving you a chance to ask what had happened. “Today at recess, Lucy and Elliot beat up a boy in Elliot’s class pretty badly.” 

Was this a joke? There’s no way that she could be serious, right? You girls fought at home, but to gang up on another boy? At school? Heat began to flood through your cheeks in embarrassment and anger at your daughters as you tried to compose yourself enough to speak. “Principal Coleman, I- I’m so sorry. I’m- I don’t even know what to say. Do you know what happened?” 

“No, not yet, the girls are in my office right now, but I was hoping that you’d be able to come join us to have a conversation about it, considering what a serious thing this has become. Especially since your girls aren’t ones I see in my office often.” 

You stared down at Harper, wiping the back of her little arm against her boogery nose as she groaned and leaned against her chest. It had taken you a week to make an appointment for her, and for her sanity, or yours, you didn’t want to have to wait another week longer, but there was no way you weren’t finding out what the was reason why your girls had attacked someone out on the playground. You looked around frantically, trying to brainstorm a solution until you remembered the other half responsible for creating your fist fighting monsters. 

“Yes, absolutely Principal Coleman. I’m at the doctor with my other daughter right now, but I’ll see if my husband can come down to the school to talk with the girls.” 

“Perfect, thank you so much, Mrs. Peña.” 

You had barely hung up before you were punching the keys of your cell phone, dialing up Javi and anxiously chewing on your bottom lip as you waited for him to pick up. 

“Hey, Hermosa!” You could almost hear Javi’s smile through the phone, his voice sweet and unassuming, considering it wasn’t uncommon for you to call him during the day, and especially not about things like this. “What’s going on, baby?” 

“Um, I just got a call from the Principal saying that Lucy and Elliot beat up a kid during recess.” 

“Woah, woah, woah. Wait, Osita, you can’t be serious?” Javi responded, almost more in shock than you were at the news. 

“I’m being serious, Jav. She wants one of us down there to go talk with him, but I’ve got Harper at the doctor’s right now and I don’t want to have to reschedule if I don’t have to. Is there any way you can go?” You sighed, rubbing your fingers on the sides of your temples from the impending headache your girls were causing you. 

“Holy shit. Yeah, yeah- of course, I’ll head over right now. What the hell happened?” 

“I don’t know, she didn’t say. Jesus Jav, I’m so embarrassed, I know the girls fight at home, but to beat up someone at school? What did we do wrong that would make them think that’s okay?” You could feel the nervous, frustrated tears beginning to well in your eyes, guilt and shame creeping through every inch of your body, currently feeling like the worst parent to have ever existed in that moment. 

“Shhhh, hey, Osita, it’s alright. I’m sure there has to be a reason. I’m gonna head out right now and figure it out, okay? I love you. Give Harps a big kiss for me, yeah?” 

“Okay. I love you too. Thanks, Jav.” 

With a gentle click of the receiver, the other side of the line went silent, leaving you and Harper in the bright, sterile lights of the waiting room. The ceiling lights may as well been spotlights beaming down in your direction, now sensing several pairs of eyes on you after your phone call. You’d never been so thankful for your 4 year old’s sleepy, sick state, because if she was any more awake, she would be happily babbling about your phone call to everyone in the lobby, letting them know her big sisters got in a fight at school. 

“Harper Peña?” A voice called from across the lobby. 

Well, at least one of your 3 daughters you could help take care of. 

Javi was pretty sure the last time drove this fast anywhere was after your water broke with Elliot, making it to the hospital in record breaking time. Whipping into the first empty parking spot he found, Javi practically sprinted through the parking lot to the front of the building, his heart pounding as he stepped into the main office, greeted by the familiar faces of your old co-workers, with unfamiliar grimaces on their faces. 

“Principal Coleman’s back this way.” Señora Gonzalez mumbled, almost avoiding eye contact with Javi as she pointed to the open door behind her desk. As if the phone call from his wife earlier didn’t have him worried enough, the dismayed look on everyone’s faces sure didn’t help. 

“Hi Mr. Peña. Please, take a seat.” Principal Coleman smiled politely after outstretching her hand for Javi to shake before gesturing towards the empty seat between Lucy and Elliot. If there was one thing Javi was not shocked about, it was the way both of his daughters seemed to be handling the current situation. Lucy, being the empathetic older sister she was, was in tears, trying her best to keep from bawling as she looked up at her dad, her face riddled with guilt. Elliot on the other hand, was leaned back in her chair, arms crossed against her chest, seeming almost completely unbothered by her current situation, giving Javi a little shrug, as if to say I’m not sure why we’re here either. 

“Principal Coleman, I just want to start off by saying I’m so sorry. I was shocked when my wife called me and said the girls had been in a fight.” 

“He was asking for it…” Elliot mumbled under her breath, arms still crossed, slouching even lower. 

“Elliot Marie.” Javi snapped, giving his daughter a dangerous glare, knowing her stubborn attitude he was all too familiar with. 

“Well why don’t you go ahead then Elliot. Can you explain to us what happened?” Principal Coleman asked, nodding at Elliot. Elliot let out a deep sigh, sitting up a little straighter in her chair, uncrossing her arms and bracing them on the armrests of her seat. 

“Principal Coleman, do you know Hunter in my class?” Elliot asked, prepping the room as if she was getting ready to argue her case in court. Principal Coleman slightly cocked her head, intrigued by Elliot’s question. 

“Yes, I do.” 

“Okay. Well at the beginning of the year, Mrs. Walker told us that Hunter’s brain is kind of different than ours. He says the same things over and over and makes silly noises and moves his body around even when he’s supposed to be sitting still. She said it’s because he has Autumn-tism. I don’t know why it’s called that because he doesn’t really like the fall, but he does really like outer space.” 

“He has Autism, Elliot, not Autumn-tism.” Lucy groaned, rolling her eyes at her sister. 

“Whatever.” Elliot sighed, rolling her eyes right back. “Anyways, no one ever wanted to play with Hunter because he was different from other kids, and everyone called him weird, and I felt really sad because everyone should have friends to play with at school. So one day I decided to ask him if he wanted to play and now we’re best friends and play rocket ships every day at recess.” Elliot adjusted again, scooching up taller in her chair, looking back and forth between her dad and Principal Coleman. “And even though Mrs. Walker always says be kind to everyone, Max in my class is not very kind, especially to Hunter. He always makes fun of him and calls him mean names, and I always tell him to stop because it hurts Hunter’s feelings.” 

“Well I’m very glad that you are standing up for your friend Elliot, but how did this end up with you and Lucy both beating up Max?” 

“I’m getting there Principal Coleman, I promise.” Elliot nodded, already halfway out the door to law school at this point. “Today at recess, Hunter and I were on the swings playing rockets, minding our own business, when all of a sudden Max came up out of nowhere and pushed Hunter so hard off the swings he landed in the wood chips and started crying. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he said that Hunter deserved it because he was a freak and freaks shouldn’t get to have friends.” 

“It’s true, that’s what he said…” Lucy quietly chimed in, barely lifting her eyes off their fixed spot on the floor. “I was out at recess too and I saw Max push Hunter so I went over to help.” 

“So I helped Hunter up and then I told Max that he can’t talk to him like that, and if he keeps making fun of him, I’m gonna kick him in the nuts.” 

“She did also say that…” Lucy grimaced, looking over at her sister. 

“Well. He called him a stupid loser who should go fly to outer space so no one ever has to see him again. So I kicked him in the nuts. I warned him.” Elliot responded, holding up her hands in defense. 

“I may have kicked him too…” 

“I’m really sorry, Daddy. And I'm sorry Principal Coleman.  I know we’re not supposed to fight and use our words but I couldn’t let him make fun of Hunter anymore. It’s not fair.” 

“I’m really sorry, too. I should have told her to stop. She is right, Max is always so mean to him for no reason besides the fact he’s different and he can’t help it.” 

The girls both looked up at their dad with remorse, their sweet little faces filled with a mix of guilt and pride, knowing they were in the wrong for what they had done, but also knowing they had done what was right for Elliot’s friend, even if it meant finding themselves in the Principal’s Office. 

After hearing his daughter’s story, his face mirrored theirs. While he also didn’t think he’d find himself in the Principal’s Office this afternoon, he also couldn’t help but feel proud knowing that his daughters cared so deeply about this boy, and had gone out of their way to stand up for him with no hesitation. There had been so many times since the girls had been born that Javi wondered if he had ever done right by his daughters. But seeing them here today, knowing all they wanted to do was stand up for the person who needed it most had him feeling like maybe, just maybe, he was doing something right. 

Even Principal Coleman’s face began to soften, realizing the circumstances of the situation, recognizing the Peña girls wanted nothing more than to protect their friend, even if they perhaps hadn’t gone about it the right way. 

“Well girls. I think that we can all agree that moving forward, violence is never the right way to solve our problems, correct?” Lucy and Elliot softly bobbed their heads, looking down at the ground. “That being said, I do think that it is very brave of you that you stood up for Hunter. He is very lucky to have such thoughtful friends.” Principal Coleman smiled, Lucy and Elliot’s heads now perking back up in shock. “I do think that you still do need to apologize to Max for what you did, so tomorrow, the three of us are going to meet, sound fair?” 

The girls shook their heads in agreement, still bracing themselves for the rest of their punishment. “Mr. Peña, while I do not condone fighting in the slightest, I do think there is something to be said for the fact your girls have such big hearts.” 

“Thank you.” Javi beamed, peering down at his two girls, resting a hand on each of their knees and giving them a little shake. “Again, I am really sorry, I promise we’ll talk about using our words instead of fighting if something like this ever happens again.” 

“Of course. Alright girls, you two can both head back to class and-” 

“Actually, if it’s okay, I’m gonna sign them out and take them home.” Javi interjected, the girls now staring at their dad in confusion. Principal Coleman nodded, her and Javi shaking hands once again before the 3 Peñas made their way out of the office.  

“Daddy, why are we going home?” Elliot asked, puzzled by her dad’s proposition. 

“Just go get your stuff, okay?” Javi smiled, nudging the two girls towards the door as they speeded off to their classrooms, quickly returning with their backpacks. 

The 3 loaded into Javi’s truck, Lucy and Elliot exchanging silent, confused looks in the backseat before Elliot worked up the courage to speak. “Daddy… Are you mad at us?” 

Javi turned back around to face the girls, tilting his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose. “You guys know you shouldn’t be fighting at school, right?” 

“Right.” The little voices said in unison. 

“Good. I’m not mad, girls. I’m really proud of you. You did the right thing standing up for that kid. There may be times in life where there isn’t always an easy answer to things, but you girls did what you knew was right, and that’s what mattered most. Sounds like Max is a really big jerk anyways.”  

“You can say that again…” Elliot snorted, the 3 of them laughing along at her comment. With that, Javi turned over the ignition in his car, the engine roaring to life as he began to pull out of the parking lot in the opposite direction of home.  

“Dad, we don’t go home this way?” Lucy pointed out, in her lovingly know-it-all voice. 

“I know. That’s because we’re going to get ice cream.” Javi grinned, the girls now cheering in excitement, dancing in their seats. 

“Just don’t tell mom.” 

Your mind hadn’t stopped racing since the minute you had gotten the phone call from school a few hours ago, now only beating faster as you saw Javi’s truck parked in the driveway at 3:30, before he or the girls would have been finished with work or school. You scooped Harper out of her carseat, rushing inside to see what in the world was going on, only to be greeted by the sounds of giggles and laughter from Javi, Lucy and Elliot along with Mario Kart Double Dash dinging and clanging in the background. 

“No Dad, you have to throw the banana!” 

“What do you mean, throw it? I still have shells I have to get rid of, right? This game makes no sense and I’m in last place.” 

“Maybe if you threw the banana, you wouldn’t be in last place!” 

“Uhhhh… What’s going on?” You asked, wondering how in the world you had gone from a very serious phone call with your husband a few hours ago to him and the girls playing GameCube on the couch like it was any other day. 

“Hi Mom!” The girls shouted in unison, throwing down their controllers and running over towards you, wrapping their arms around your waist in a tight hug. 

“Hi?” You asked wearily, starting to wonder if this phone call had been a fever dream given everyone’s happy demeanor. “Are we not gonna talk about the phone call I got from Principal Coleman earlier today?” You raised an eyebrow at Javi, now making his way towards you, standing on the other side of the girls to sandwich them in between you and him in a hug, leaning over them to press a kiss onto your lips. “Taking them out of school early to play Mario Kart doesn’t look a lot like a punishment, Jav.” You grumbled into his ear, his face still pressed against yours. 

“Girls, why don’t you go play so Mom and I can talk about what happened, okay?” The girls happily agreed, taking Harper back over to the couch and resuming their game while you leaned back against the kitchen counter, arms folded over your chest in disappointment at Javi, waiting for an explanation. 

“You’ve heard Elliot talk about Hunter in her class before?” You could already feel your guard starting to come down, knowing you had a feeling exactly where this conversation was headed after hearing who was involved. “Apparently, a kid in Elliot’s class was picking on him for being Autistic and pushed him off the swings, so her and Lucy kicked him in the crotch.” You couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief, relief slowly turning into laughter as you buried your face in your hands, letting out a deep exhale before looking back at Javi. “I talked to them and they feel bad about it and know it’s wrong and they’re gonna apologize to the kid, but I couldn’t be that mad at them, right? They stood up for the kid even if they knew it was gonna get them in trouble. I’m honestly proud of them.”

You took a step towards Javi, pulling him in for a hug, resting your head against his shoulder as you spoke into his chest. “God, what are we gonna do with these girls?” The two of you chuckled, Javi snaking his hand down to cradle your cheek, tracing his thumb along your jaw. 

“Ask for a raise so we can send Elliot off to law school, apparently. Made a hell of a case in Coleman’s office. Just as head strong as her Momma.” Javi leaned down, letting his nose brush against yours as he tenderly placed his lips on yours, letting them linger for a moment while your smiles crept between them. 

“And their Daddy’s sense of right and wrong. Guess we must be doing something right if they care that much.” You smiled, looking up at Javi, his sweet brown eyes beaming down back at you, wondering how in the world you had ended up with 3 of the sassiest, sweetest combinations of the two of you in your daughters. “Okay, well, this was not how I was planning the rest of the day to go, but I guess it’s a happy surprise to have all of us home, so I’ll take it. I love you, Jav.” 

“I love you too, Osita.” 

You wrapped your arms around Javi’s waist, squeezing him in a long, tight hug as pressed his arms against your back, pulling you in closer as he planted a soft kiss on the top of your head. 

“Hey Munchkins, you want a snack and then we can pick something to play outside together?” 

“Okay!” The girls shouted from the family room over the background noise of their game until Elliot piped up again. 

“Honestly, I’m okay on snacks, I’m still really full from the ice cream.” 

You spun back around to look up at Javi, running his hand over the back of his neck, darting his eyes away from yours as you rested your hands on your hips, shaking your head. “Ice cream? Really?” 

“Hey, kickin’ ass is hard work.”

Taglist:

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[coraniaid]

The scene where Willow confronts Faith is Choices is kind of fascinating to me, because ... well.

I like Choices quite a lot, and I think Willow's dislike of Faith is perfectly understandable and in character (and her speech has some fun but probably not intentional foreshadowing for later seasons), but it's hard not to notice that the narrative expects you to be rather more unambiguously on Willow's side than I think is really warranted.

I mean, Willow might not have been the most popular girl in high school, but she has multiple close friends, a nice boyfriend, a stable [and fairly comfortably middle-class] home life, she "represents the pinnacle of achievement in Sunnydale High" in the words of her school's principal, she's trusted enough to teach at the school, in a year she'll be able to go to any college she wants (and, unlike some people, she can afford to go anywhere she wants), she used to hack into government computer databases (before she ever met Buffy!) and now she's teaching herself dark magic "for fun" and she hasn't [yet] ever suffered any real repercussions for either of those things.

On the other hand, from what little we hear about Faith's past we know she grew up poor and that her mother used to get drunk and beat her, that she didn't have any friends and dropped out of high school young, she is very strongly implied on multiple occasions to have been the victim of some pretty horrific abuse before being called as a Slayer, and after being called as a Slayer she got to watch the one adult who ever told her she mattered get killed horribly in front of her before fleeing across the country to a town where she doesn't know anybody, still has no friends, doesn't have a job or go to school and lives alone in a motel in the bad part of town. And when she accidentally killed a man, while trying to do the whole slaying vampires thing she's supposed to be doing, the Watcher's Council -- who never actually bothered to send her a new Watcher of her own -- decided to have her abducted and dragged away to England [a fate which surely nobody deserves].

Yet a part of Willow clearly thinks (and almost outright says) "oh, well, yeah, but she hangs out with Buffy sometimes when I don't get to and she slept with the guy -- not my nice boyfriend! -- who I used to have a crush on (and who I was briefly cheating on said boyfriend with), so it's clearly impossible to say which of us really had things worse and I don't need to feel sorry for her". And -- again, while this is great characterisation for Willow -- it's kind of hard not to notice that the writers think she has a compelling point.

Yes, sure, Faith has defected to working for the Mayor and has a knife drawn on Willow this scene (she's not anything like a blameless victim at this point of the story) and it takes a certain level of physical bravery for Willow to stand up for herself despite that. But ... I mean, come on. "You had friends like Buffy" is only true if you accept it to mean "you had exactly one friend, who was Buffy". "It's way too late" for Faith to seek forgiveness ... how many people has Faith killed at this point? One, by mistake? Giles has killed more people than that. "Some people think you had a lot of bad breaks?" Yeah, actually in Faith's shoes I'd want to hit Willow after she said that too.

I realize that part of the show's central thesis -- something that explicitly came up as recently as Earshot -- is the idea that everybody, regardless of how comfortable their life might seem from the outside, has their own sorrow and pain and (only occasionally metaphorical) demons to fight. But while that's not entirely wrong, it's also ... not entirely complete? Everyone has it bad sometimes, but some people really do have it worse than others. Pretending otherwise is ... not a serious position to take.

Willow's life could be better, but she's not gone through anything like Faith has. I'd argue she literally can't imagine how bad Faith's life has been. She really doesn't have as much moral authority as the show's writers think she has at this point.

[Compare this part of Season 3 with the first half of Season 6, when the show is overflowing with sympathy for Willow's abrupt descent into magic addiction but has no sympathy at all for Amy Madison, whose own magic addiction is just implied to be because she's inherently a Bad Person who Willow needs to avoid and whose own horrific past and abusive mother and complete lack of support system is just entirely forgotten about. Or, indeed, to the weird take of Dead Man's Party, which has Buffy apologize to Willow for ... what? Having problems of her own that don't revolve around Willow? Being too busy mourning the loss of everything she ever cared about to tell Willow how uniquely special and amazing she was for learning rudimentary magic? Not being grateful enough for Willow restoring Angel's soul without bothering to ask Buffy if that was something she still wanted her to try?]

So, the overall effect is ... yeah, it's a good scene. But it's almost a good scene despite the writer's intentions, not because of them. It's much less of an ambiguously triumphant moment for WIllow than I believe we're meant to read it as.

[bestaez]

Don't Fear the Reaper

Scream AU

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: yandere, horror/thriller

warnings: murder, graphic violence, mature themes, obsessive behavior, sexual content

word count: 13k

summary/preview: Just a year since your brother’s brutal murder, bad luck seems to strike again in your once-peaceful hometown. It seems as if death wants to follow you as it finds its next victim in one of your school friends. The more the murders start to connect, you begin to wonder if it really could be just a copycat killer or if the wrong man was imprisoned.

quick note: this is very unedited so pls excuse any mistakes!! ty🖤

It had been almost a year since your brother’s death and you still couldn’t believe it was real. His bedroom door had been practically sealed shut, neither you nor your father daring to venture inside. The sight of his empty room getting dusty would have just made it that much more real - something the both of you didn’t need as the constant news coverage had done enough of that job already.

It wasn’t necessarily that you were so distraught over Seowon’s death that you couldn’t come to terms with it. He was your older brother, your own blood, but that didn’t mean the two of you had been the closest siblings. You would describe your relationship over the years as lukewarm at best. You loved him because he was your brother but you never truly felt like you knew him. It was also hard to mourn with news vans following you everywhere you went.

The part that was hard to believe was the way in which he had died. He had been found in the woods near your house with seventeen stab wounds. It didn’t make any sense. Your brother had been a star football player at your school, part of the popular crowd. He was well-liked amongst students and teachers. You didn’t think anyone had a bad opinion of him. It’s possible he had rivals especially in sports or romances but nothing that would warrant murder.

Initially, there had been a lot of speculation in the town and you had heard all the rumors, including the one where your father had killed him in a fit of rage. You knew it could never be true; your father had been devastated by your brother’s death. He had been emotionless before, but now he was just a shell of the man he was. And whoever said loss could bring people closer had obviously never met your father.

The truth was that your father had always been emotionally closed for as long as you had known him. Your mother had died from complications after your birth and though he had never voiced it, you knew that he had resented you for being the cause of your mother’s death. At times, you wished you had never been born because living with the guilt had been too much to bear especially living with a father who never forgave you for it. 

When the police eventually did find a suspect, you were shocked to say the least. Min Yoongi was a few years older than you and had already graduated when the murder weapon as well as your brother’s blood on his clothing was found. He had always been a serious guy and if you asked most people, they would say they had always believed he kept skeletons in his closet. You knew he was a bit of a recluse, but you never would have guessed he was capable of murder. The motive they came up with was that Yoongi had been jealous of your brother’s popularity and mixed with his own mental instability, things inevitably came to a day and he decided to act out his aggressions.

Many people wanted to know your side of it, whether you believed the story and whatnot. You had mostly stayed silent on the matter, unlike your father who had screamed at Yoongi in court and had to be dragged out of the room. You can still remember the stares you got from everyone that day - it was the same look you got from most of the town and your classmates. A mix of pity, curiosity, and judgment.

It was safe to say you hadn’t been looking forward to this time of year. The true crime fanatics had seemingly been ramping up their shenanigans, hoping to possibly find some clue that would connect more of the dots. The stares you always felt in town and at school hadn’t lessened and seemed to be picking up a bit more in recent weeks as the anniversary drew closer.

Which is why most nights, you would find yourself holed up in your bedroom where it was calmer. Much to your best friend's dismay, as she would always try to drag you away to some party or school outing. Haena hated it when you closed yourself off and didn’t believe in wallowing alone. In her eyes, it was as if your introvertedness was just a sickness that she had to cure.

The only person who understood your feelings was your boyfriend, Taehyung. He, too, was a bit of a homebody and didn’t mind staying in with you most nights. He did have more friends and liked to party, but he never pressured you to go out. Part of you believed he enjoyed having you all to himself that way and for some reason you didn’t mind it.

You don’t know how you got so lucky getting a boyfriend like Taehyung. He was so dreamy with dark black locks that were often tucked behind his ear and matching dark eyes that seemed to always be on you. He was an artist and could often be found wearing distressed jeans and sweaters with little splotches of paint here and there. He was extremely affectionate, always having to have his hands on you some way or another.

The two of you met in freshman year art class where you had quickly realized you had no business holding a paintbrush, much to Taehyung’s amusement. He would offer to fix up your paintings when the teacher wasn’t looking and was the only reason you ended up passing. It wasn’t until a little after that semester that the two of you started dating.

A low tapping interrupted your thoughts as you sat in bed, almost too quiet to hear over the television playing in your room. You got up to investigate, pulling your curtains open to see none other than Taehyung leaning up against your window using a ladder to get up here. You weren’t even sure if that ladder was yours but you were glad your window didn’t face the street where others could see.

You opened the window as you spluttered in shock, stepping back to allow him room to clamber inside. You held your breath as you kept an ear out to make sure your dad hadn’t heard his nosy arrival, eyes trained on the door like he would bust in any moment.

“What are you doing here?” You hissed once you had regained your composure.

“What, I can’t visit my girlfriend?” Taehyung pouted. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too but if my dad catches you-” “He won’t.” Taehyung cut you off, leveling you with his beautiful dark eyes as he leaned closer to you on the bed. “I’m stealthy.”

You breathed out a sigh, at a loss for words from his sudden close proximity. He reminded you of a tiger the way he stared you down like you were prey. You were so mesmerized by him you had missed him inching closer until you could feel his breath on your lips.

“Tae-” You tried to stop him but he shushed you, pressing his mouth to yours.

Taehyung was your first serious boyfriend and there hadn’t been a single dull moment in your relationship yet. For you, every new experience you had with him had been a thrill. But there was only so many heated makeouts you two could have before you knew he would want to do more. He understood you were inexperienced and was willing to wait but you wondered how much longer before he cracked.

As if on cue, his hand grazed your thigh lightly as if to test the waters. When you didn’t stop him, he grew more confident and raised it until it reached your hip, squeezing gently. You appeared calm on the outside but on the inside, your heart was racing.

He pulled back a bit to look you in the eyes, licking his lips as he smirked. “I can feel your heartbeat.”

Your eyes widened in embarrassment as you quickly sat up, covering your cheeks as you felt them heating. You had hoped it wouldn’t have been so obvious. Why couldn’t you just be normal? 

“Still so nervous around me after all this time,” He chuckled wryly, lifting a hand to remove the ones covering your face. His fingers caressed your cheek as he gazed at you. “What can I do to make you more comfortable, baby?”

“I’m sorry.” You breathed, feeling your heart skip at all the intense eye contact. “I just need more time.”

“Don’t be sorry. I told you I would wait.” He gave you a small smile, leaning in to give you another kiss. He brushed a hand through your hair before pulling away and making his way back over to the window.

You watched him begin his descent back down to the ground before an idea popped into your head. You don’t know where the sudden confidence came from but the sight of his retreating back made you want to try something.

“Taehyung,” You called out from the window once he had made it all the way down. He looked back up at you curiously, his eyebrows raised in question. “Something to hold you over for now?”

You didn’t wait for him to reply before you lifted your shirt up, exposing your breasts to him from down below. You waited a few nerve wracking seconds before pulling it back down, giggling nervously as you did.

His look of pure shock made it all worth it, preventing any possible embarrassment from flooding into your system. You could tell your stunt had rendered him speechless for a moment, if the choked sputters coming from him were anything to go by.

“I think you just made it worse.” He finally spoke, his voice deep and chilling. You laughed loudly, moving to shut your window closed.

*****

When you arrived at school the next day, the atmosphere was tenser than usual. You were used to people whispering around you but this was different. People seemed to be more huddled in groups. It was as if there was some unseen sinister presence that had arrived. You weren’t sure if you could just blame it on the seasons changing but there definitely seemed to be a chill in the air this morning.

A hand grabbing your arm on your way through the courtyard startled you, your heart jumping only to see it was just Haena. Her eyes were wide as she squeezed your forearm urgently. You could tell just by her expression that whatever was going on was serious.

“Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Your confusion was obvious as you watched realization dawn on her.

“You haven’t heard...” She paused as if trying to find the right words, biting her lip unsurely. “YN, some students were murdered last night.”

“What? Who?” The shock spread throughout your body like a numbness, your extremities feeling cold all of the sudden.

“Park Jimin and Yoon Iseul.”

You weren’t sure if any names that could possibly come out of her mouth would not come as a shock but this just floored you. Jimin and Iseul were the school’s power couple. Everyone was in love with them or wanted to be their friend. The correlation between their deaths and your brother’s wasn’t lost on you. Could it be a copycat killer? You didn’t want to think of the alternative - that Yoongi had been wrongfully imprisoned.

“That must be why everyone is acting so strange today.” You mumbled mindlessly, hearing the words coming out of your mouth but not feeling connected with them. “I just saw Iseul yesterday in sixth period.”

“It’s all I’ve been hearing about this morning. How Iseul’s parents came home to the grizzliest scene you can imagine. They said Jimin was tied up and they found Iseul out- '' Her chattering stopped upon seeing the sick look on your face, her lips pressing together as if just now realizing who she was speaking to. You didn’t blame her though - you knew she was just in shock. “Well, you get the gist. Apparently a neighbor saw the killer run out of there wearing some kind of weird ghost mask. Now everyone’s calling them ‘Ghostface.’”

“I don’t understand why this keeps happening.”

At some point in the day, you were called to the principal’s office for questioning. This wasn’t strange, though, as everyone in the entire school was going through the same thing. The police figured their first place to look was at the school, which made sense.

They had asked you simple questions like how well you knew Jimin and Iseul, if you knew if they were in any drama at school, etc. You had answered honestly and as accurately as you could. To be honest, you hadn’t the slightest who could have done something like this. But you could sense the detectives figured you might have some clue as you had been around death before. They looked at you like you had some kind of ghost hanging around you.

You decided that going through your day like you always did was the best shot at getting through it, clinging to any shred of normalcy that you could find. And if that meant having lunch with Haena and her usual friend group, then so be it. The seven of you were sitting outside in the courtyard, the climate having warmed up a bit since this morning.

The boys were goofing off with each other as if nothing was wrong, which in a way comforted you. You needed to act like everything was okay or else you could feel your sanity start to slip. Eyeing Haena, she was chatting with Jungkook while throwing her feet in his lap. He was rubbing her lower calves and you couldn’t help but watch how comfortable they were with each other in public like this.

It gave you the courage to lean back onto Taehyung who was sitting behind you, his warm chest a welcome embrace. He responded by wrapping his arms around your front, not missing a beat as he conversed with Hobi about the quiz they took this morning.

“Did they ask you guys if you liked to hunt?” Hobi asked all of the sudden, the idle chatter dying down as you all knew he was talking about the police interrogations all students had to partake in today.

“Yeah, I just told them I liked to fish.” Jin barked out a laugh.

You wondered out loud, “Why would they ask that?”

“Because their bodies were gutted.” Hobi responded matter-of-factly, turning to Jin with a suspicious look. “Kind of like a fish.”

“Thank you, Hobi.” Taehyung spoke sarcastically and you could practically feel his eye roll from behind you.

“They didn’t ask me about hunting,” Haena frowned in confusion.

“You think a girl could have pulled off a murder like that? Yeah, right.” Jungkook chuckled, wiggling his eyebrows at her in a condescending manner.

Haena scoffed in disgust, pulling her legs off his lap. “That is so sexist of you. Plenty of women become serial killers - look at Aileen Wuornos.”

“She used a gun on her male-only victims. Not exactly the same.”

“Yeah, from what I hear Jimin and Iseul were barely recognizable by the time they found them.” Jungkook informed, seemingly undeterred by Haena’s annoyance. “The fact is that it would take a man to do something like that.”

“How do you gut someone?” Your voice trembled as you voiced the question, your curiosity getting the best of you. Taehyung tightened his arms around you and leaned his head on your neck, leaving a kiss there.

It was silent for a moment before Jungkook spoke up, “Well, you’d get a knife and start from the groin-”

“Jungkook, shut the fuck up.” Taehyung’s harsh tone left no room for argument and even made you tense up a bit.

“Didn’t you date Iseul?” You asked Jungkook.

His eyes lit up for a moment as he chuckled, “Yeah, for like two seconds.”

“Before she dumped him for Jimin!” Hobi chimed in. “Hmm, I wonder how the police would feel if they knew you were her lover scorned.”

“What, you think I killed her?” Jungkook laughed genuinely, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m sure you would love to see me behind bars but I’m afraid I have an alibi.”

Haena rolled her eyes as Jungkook winked at her, fed up with his immaturity. “If you think I’m going to defend your misogynistic ass, you’re sorely mistaken.”

Jungkook watched her with a pout as she stood up to leave, gathering her books for the next class. “Come on, baby! You know I’m not a killer.”

She ignored him as she walked off, which led to him jumping up and following her to no doubt get back in her good graces. Those two had been on-and-off for a while but you would be lying if you said their shenanigans weren’t entertaining. He was a pig-headed jock and she was an artsy type. They didn’t make any sense but somehow they ended up together.

*****

You went home that day to an empty house and a note on the kitchen table, which both surprised you and somehow didn’t. You were used to your father skipping out on you with no notice but to leave a note? That wasn’t like him.

Got a lead for a job out of town so I’ll be gone for a few days. I’ll try to call but might not have service -Dad 

You supposed the message was emotionally detached enough to be from him but you couldn’t help the strange feeling you got from reading it. You knew he probably wouldn’t call or if he did, it would be just to let you know he was staying longer. He knew you didn’t expect much from him and probably preferred it that way. Weirdly enough, you did too.

Exhausted from the day, you threw your bag on the floor and collapsed on the couch. You flipped the TV on and surfed through the channels mindlessly before one with a news headline and familiar face caught your eye. It was a reporter that you recognized almost immediately - Kim Namjoon. He had covered your brother’s case extensively and even wrote a book about it.

“ This small but mighty town has been hit yet again with another gruesome homicide case. Two young teenagers were found brutally murdered in their own home. ” He spoke clearly, his dragon-eyes penetrating you through the TV screen. You had seen them in person and knew how deadly their effect could be. “ Authorities have yet to release any statement but we know now that no arrest has been made and the murderer could strike again. ”

“ Could it be merely just a coincidence that this month is the anniversary of yet another senseless killing? It has been only ten months since Min Yoongi was found guilty for the murder of Jung Wooshik, who was also a student at Woodsboro High. ” Namjoon continued, and you held your breath as you waited for him to say what you had been fearing. “ Many have made a few theories on what could be the meaning of this, including that of a possible copycat killer or perhaps a wrongful imprisonment. It’s safe to say the town of Woodsboro needs to stay vigilant on protecting its own. ”

You cut him off there, not wanting to hear any more. Namjoon had made it clear early on that he was doubtful of Yoongi being the killer and spent most of his news coverage with that perspective. You tried not to take it personally but there had been instances where it seemed like the reporter blamed you for what happened. You knew you weren’t directly responsible for Yoongi’s conviction but you couldn’t help but wonder if you should feel guilty. You had only told the truth to the judge, that you had seen Yoongi by your house the day your brother died. That your brother had bought some weed from him and that you had seen him leaving while your brother was still alive. What happened between then and when your brother was killed was completely unknown to you.

But your witness testimony along with the physical evidence found in Yoongi’s home and car had been enough to convict him. You can still vividly remember the expression on Yoongi’s face when the verdict was given, as though he hadn’t even heard the judge. You couldn’t help but be amazed at his absolute indifference to everything going on around him at all times. You had never seen him smile or get angry ever. He kept all his emotions inside and it only fueled to make you more unsure of him.

The sound of the phone ringing loudly next to you made you jump, hand laying on your chest to feel your racing heart. You took a deep breath before you answered, “Hello?”

“YN, I just wanted to check on you and make sure you got home okay.” Of course it was just Haena. You knew she worried about you especially when you were home with your father.

“Yeah, I’m okay. My dad’s left town apparently so I’ve got the place to myself.”

“Oh shit, really?” She sounded stunned by this. “Didn’t he hear the news?”

“Not sure. Although knowing him, he might have just wanted to get away from all the media craziness.”

“Do you want to stay at my place?” As if she could sense your hesitance, she continued in a more serious tone, “I know you probably think I’m being dramatic but I just don’t think you should be alone right now.”

“Okay.” You relented, agreeing that it was probably best to not be isolated and vulnerable with a killer on the loose.

You ran upstairs to pack some clothes for the week, unsure of how long you would be staying there. The thought occurred to you that you should probably let Taehyung know where you would be going just in case he tried to make another surprise sneak-in on you again. You picked up your phone and dialed his number. It rang one time before immediately going to voicemail, causing you to pull the phone back and look at it in confusion. It wasn’t like him to outright reject your call, so you tried again. This time it rang all the way through before going to voicemail. 

“Huh, that’s weird.” You waited for the automated voice to end and the beep to sound before leaving him a message informing him of where you would be tonight as well as Haena’s home number in case he needed to reach you later.

When you got to Haena’s house a little while later, you weren’t exactly sure why you felt uneasy all of the sudden seeing the police vehicle in her driveway. Her dad was Sheriff Lee and he had always been like a father to you, more so than your own father anyway. But just seeing his car again after so long and knowing he was in there was dredging up old memories that you had tried to forget.

Haena answered the door with a bright grin and pulled you inside excitedly. You already knew you were in for an eventful next few days, especially with her two younger brothers who were always loud and rambunctious. But oddly enough, you found that you enjoyed being around such a loving and busy household because that had never been your home experience.

You were greeted by warm hugs from Mrs. Lee before she quickly sat you down for dinner with a plate full of food. Haena rolled her eyes at her mom’s antics especially when she realized she was not included in this display of special treatment and would have to make her own plate. At some point, Sheriff Lee rolled in and you could tell by the tired lines on his face that this week had taken a toll on him.

He still greeted you with a smile and a pat on the head before joining you all at the table. Mrs. Lee brought her husband a plate and you couldn’t help but watch as he grabbed her hand to give it a kiss. The two of them had always been a sweet couple and what with your lack of ever seeing that growing up, you were always fascinated by them.

“How’s your father doing, YN?” Haena’s father asked.

“Fine,” You answered, rolling a cherry tomato around on your plate with your fork. “He’s actually on a work trip this week so Haena convinced me to come stay here for a little while if that’s okay.”

“You know you’re always welcome here, honey. You’re practically family.” Mrs Lee was quick to reassure you.

“Work trip, huh?” Sheriff Lee’s eyebrows were drawn together as he held a spoonful of stew in front of him thoughtfully. “Did he mention where?”

“Nope. You know how he is,” You answered honestly and he nodded.

Just then, the phone rang and Mrs. Lee got up to go answer it. You were about to go clean your dish when she came back into the kitchen and said, “YN, someone’s on the phone for you.”

You quickly went over to go pick it up, “Hello?”

“YN,” Taehyung’s deep voice came through on the other line, sounding hushed and slightly out-of-breath. “I just got your message.”

“Oh, yeah well I just didn’t want you to go worrying if you called me and I didn’t answer. Haena’s family is taking care of me.”

“Yeah? That’s good.” He responded, and you could practically picture him posted up somewhere like the cool guy he was. “Although, I wish I had answered when you called because I could have kept you company.”

“I’m sure you would have liked that.” You chuckled. “I don’t think my heart can handle another one of your window sneak-ins.”

“Well, I don’t think my heart can handle being away from you that long.”

“You’ll still see me at school.” You reasoned, rolling your eyes despite him not being able to see you.

“Yeah but that’s school. You won’t even let me kiss you unless it’s somewhere hidden.” You could practically hear his pout through the receiver. “Why don’t you meet me at your place sometime this week? I’ll cook you dinner and we can finally be alone together.”

You couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed at his sudden pushiness to get you alone. You knew if you agreed to meet him at your house that he would probably try to have sex with you again. As much as you wanted to take that step with him, you were scared.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, what with the recent murders and all. I think it’s probably best to stay in larger groups.”

“What, you don’t think I can protect you? I know I’m skinny but I’m strong.”

“No I know you can but it’s just not a good time right now.”

“Yeah, I know. You haven’t been yourself in a while.” He huffed into the receiver. 

You laughed sarcastically, unsure if he was being serious right now. “Yeah, sorry I’m not in the mood to have sex with you right now. I’m kinda still reeling over the deaths of our classmates.”

“I don’t mean recently. You haven’t been the same since Seowon died.” His words shocked you, not understanding where this was coming from all of the sudden.

“Uh, well that’s kind of what loss does to a person if you didn’t know. They change - drastically.” All humor was gone from your tone as you felt yourself getting annoyed with him.

“Yeah well it’s been a year since he died and you’re still so skittish around me. It’s like you think I’m some kind of bad guy.”

“I’m sorry if my trauma has ruined things for you but no one is making you stay with me. If you need it that badly then you-” 

“Stop. That’s not what I meant at all.” He huffed angrily, taking a pause to gather his thoughts. “Listen, I don’t want to make you upset. I know it’s hard to see right now but I’m just feeling insecure. I want to make sure we’re still okay.”

At your silence, he let out another sigh. “I’m gonna let you go now. Please don’t be mad at me. I love you.”

He didn’t say anything after that but he stayed on the line, and you knew he was waiting for you to say it back. Hoping for you to say it back. And as pissed off as he had made you, you hated the idea of going to bed mad at him. So you conceded, for now.

“I love you too.”

*****

When you arrived on campus the next day, you spotted Namjoon standing near his usual news van. He was dressed smartly in an olive sweater and gray slacks, his glasses making him look more like a university student than a reporter. He was busy sorting through some papers, probably brushing up on his notes before he did his next broadcast.

You felt compelled to speak with him, especially after everything that had been going on recently. Over the past year, he had reached out to you multiple times for a comment and you always declined. The only time you had spoken in-person was after the court case had ended and it hadn’t been the most cordial moment.

“YN, this is a surprise. What can I do for you?” Namjoon raised his eyebrows at you, a mix of curiosity and something else you couldn’t quite pick up in his expression.

“I wanted to talk to you about Min Yoongi.”

“Okay.” He spoke slowly, glancing over at his camera crew who were standing a few feet away. “I’m guessing this is off the record?”

“Yes, please.” You paused, trying to think on how to start. “I know you probably don’t think very highly of me.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, you wrote a whole book on how my witness testimony was the reason an innocent man was imprisoned.”

“Yes. I still stand by that.” He responded honestly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“So what, you think I’m a liar?”

“You painted a picture that made him look like a killer. I think you were so desperate for all the media coverage and court trials to end that you picked him as a scapegoat.”

“Have you talked to Yoongi?”

“Many times. He admits to selling drugs to your brother but that’s all.” The look on his face told you just how in-depth their conversations had gone. Namjoon was a very detail-oriented man.

“Then how do you explain the blood on his clothes and the murder weapon in his home?”

“His roommate testified that he came home high with no blood on his clothes. Someone else planted all that evidence and framed him.” The way he spoke of Yoongi was almost like they were close; he clearly felt very strongly about clearing his name.

“Why are you so adamant on proving his innocence? Did you know him?”

“Why do you care what I think?” Namjoon’s face screwed up as he seemed to grow more irritated with you. This was the real emotion you expected to get from him, behind the friendly facade he tried to put on with you. “You got what you wanted, didn’t you? Yoongi’s life is ruined, he’ll never see the light of day again.”

“That’s not what I wanted.” Now, it was your turn to look confused. “I wanted justice. I told the judge exactly what I saw that day.”

His lips pursed as he thought for a moment, processing your words. “Yes, I knew Yoongi. We weren’t exactly friends but anyone who knew him knew he was harmless. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Harmless and yet he sold drugs to teenagers?” You regretted it as soon as it came out your mouth. You knew it was a low blow and you didn’t truly care that he did that anyway but you needed to cling onto some semblance that you made the right call.

He hummed as he searched your face for a moment, “Why are you asking me about Yoongi all of the sudden? You’re not so sure anymore, are you?”

“No, Yoongi murdered my brother.” You weren’t even sure if you believed yourself at how weak your voice sounded.

“These murders are related, aren’t they? The killer’s still on the loose.” He sounded almost triumphant as he marveled at your recent revelation, the cogs in his head working on overdrive. You had just confirmed his biggest theory yet despite your best efforts not to.

Now was a good time to leave. You weren’t sure what you had hoped to get out of this interaction but it wasn’t this. You had been avoiding the truth for a long time but it was catching up to you. 

“Goodbye, Namjoon. Always a pleasure.” He didn’t respond as he watched you move to leave, his lips moving as he quietly murmured to himself. Despite his dark calculating eyes following your every move, you knew that he was in a different place conjuring up his next news broadcast.

*****

Halfway through the school day, it became apparent that Principal Choi had not shown up nor called in sick. After multiple attempts to reach his home phone, one of the administrators called the police to do a wellness check. And what they had found upon entering his home had been what everyone was fearing.

The news of Principal Choi’s death spread through the school like wildfire and you could tell the staff struggled to hold themselves together while keeping the students organized. A few police officers arrived at the school to work with the administrators on figuring out how to go about letting the students go home.

You were in the library with Haena and Jungkook when a pair of boys came running through your section and drawing the attention of everyone nearby. One was screaming in an exaggerated manner and the other was wearing the infamous Ghostface mask and chasing the former. You could tell they were just playing a prank but you didn’t see how anyone could be making fun of the situation right now.

“What is wrong with people?”

“Are you kidding me? Look at this place, it’s like Halloween.” Jungkook threw his head back and laughed.

“Stupidity leak!” Haena berated him, whacking him in the head with her notebook.

You shook your head at him, deciding to just ignore his comment. “Have you guys seen Taehyung around?”

“You mean after you gave him blue balls? No, his heart’s broken.”

“Jungkook,” Haena elbowed him hard, causing him to grunt.

“He said that?” You were shocked that even Jungkook knew about your lack of a sex life but should have known that boys would talk just like girls did.

“Of course he did. The guy’s crazy about you.”

“What guy’s crazy about her?” Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Taehyung leaned over you from behind to kiss the top of your head, causing your heart to do a flip.

“Keanu Reeves, of course.” You mouthed a ‘thank you’ to Haena at her swift coverup, causing her to give you a wink.

“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” Taehyung whispered in your ear and held your hand as he pulled you out of your chair. Haena ignored Jungkook trying to get her attention as she watched you follow your boyfriend to a more secluded area. 

“I’m really sorry about what I said before - it was way out of line. I’ve been a little out of sorts lately with everything going on.” He sounded vulnerable as he spoke, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart tug at his remorseful face. He had always been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. “I just want us to be okay again. I want my girlfriend back.”

“I’m still your girlfriend,” You rolled your eyes playfully, squeezing his hand in yours. “But I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel insecure. I know I’ve been acting different for a while and it wasn’t fair to you. I guess I just haven’t been dealing with my trauma very well.”

“That’s not your fault. You don’t need to feel bad about how you grieve.” He reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, a soft expression on his face.

“I haven’t been grieving at all - that’s the problem. It’s like my emotions have been shut off.” You sighed, shutting your eyes as his hand moved to caress your cheek. “I can’t keep hiding in my room forever. I need to move on.”

When you opened your eyes again, Taehyung was watching you carefully with his mouth pressed shut. You wished you could read his mind. There was more you wanted to say but you found it hard to find the words, so you decided to let your actions speak by leaning forward and kissing him deeply.

You could tell he hadn’t expected you to make the move by the way he froze but he quickly recovered, pulling you closer with his arms settling around your waist. You pressed yourself to him as he leaned against the bookshelf. This was the most hot and heavy you had ever been in public and you could tell he was enjoying it, not wanting to part from you for even a second.

When you did eventually pull away, you felt brave enough to ask, “Will you meet me at my house later?”

You felt him tense up in shock yet again but couldn’t see his face as you were leaning on his chest. You dared to look up and see him looking at you with wide eyes.

“I thought you wanted to stay at Haena’s.”

“I changed my mind.” You shrugged, feeling giddy as his face lit up. “You’ll protect me from any bad guys, right?”

He pulled you in again, wrapping his arms around you tightly and resting his chin on the crown of your head. You had never felt safer.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Taehyung has always been careful and thoughtful about how he treated you. His touches were gentle and soft; you couldn’t imagine him hurting a fly. Maybe it was just his artsy persona but you had always known him to be a deep, considerate person. He was meticulous about every detail, whether it was his art or his life. Sometimes it seemed like he truly believed life was art; a painting that was ever-changing and inspiring.

You were a masterpiece in his eyes. Something to be cherished and never tarnished. That was why he wanted to keep you safe from the evil in the world. He knew that life had already not been fair to you. But he believed it was his job to prevent any further wrongdoings from coming into your life. He wouldn’t hesitate to destroy anyone who would even try to cause you harm.

It was when you were laid out on your bed looking like an angel, Taehyung felt like he was truly going to Hell. Surely God was coming for him because he had stolen an angel and kept her all to himself. You had given yourself up to him and you didn’t know it yet but he would never let you go. How could he?

The only word to describe it was heaven. Having you in his arms like this, touching parts of you his hands had never dared to before - it was pure bliss. He wanted to stay like this forever. There was nothing out there for either of you. Everything you both needed was right here, in each other’s arms.

He had lost count of how many times he made you come undone before he had even entered you. This wasn’t his first time but it may as well have been with the way he struggled to not fall apart almost immediately. You were his weakness and at the same time you were the only thing keeping him together most of the time. He didn’t care how old you both were - you were it for him.

You had always imagined your first time would be like a dream, full of romantic candles and roses. The reality of it was much different, more natural, and yet you found it to be better than you could have ever imagined. You felt like one of Taehyung’s paintings as his lips and fingertips caressed you everywhere, molding you into one of his perfect creations. You were his muse and you had never felt so beautiful.

It was a night of passion and love; the perfect embodiment of your relationship. Whatever rocky period you had been going through before was long gone and you almost couldn’t believe you had ever wanted to delay this. This was where you needed to be. You knew you probably sounded like a naive teenager, but you didn’t want to think of anyone else in this way ever. You only wanted Taehyung.

“I’ll always love you, YN. I’ll never leave you.”

*****

The next day, you were on your way to your locker when you spied Haena waiting for you. You tried to act indifferent to Haena’s wide eyes looking you up and down as you approached her. It was as if she was trying to find some kind of visible evidence on you.

“So?” You knew she wanted to know what happened last night, but you weren’t ready to spill so soon. 

“So... what?” You acted ignorant as you opened up your locker, reaching for your math textbook.

“Oh come on, I’m dying here! Spill.”

“Okay, okay.” Laughter bursted out of you, your resolve crumbling before you could even try to build it up. “We, uh... did it.”

“More details, please.” She rolled her eyes at your vagueness.

“It was really sweet. He made us a nice dinner and then we...” You cringed, not knowing how to talk about it without sounding corny. “I don’t know how to describe it.”

“Well, did it hurt? Did you come?” You nodded to both questions honestly and her eyebrows raised as she became more intrigued. “How many times?”

When she saw you counting on your fingers higher and higher, she blew a low whistle. “God damn. Good for you, girl.”

“I feel like he set the bar pretty high. Is it always like this or is he just really talented?”

“Well, it depends. Jungkook is usually pretty good but sometimes he’s too drunk or lazy and then I end up doing most of the work myself.”

You pursed your lips in thought, “Doesn’t he go down on you before?”

Her eyes widened as she opened her mouth in shock, “Can I borrow him?”

You smacked her on the arm as she laughed, linking arms with you as you both made your way to class.

“Oh, by the way, Jungkook’s having a party at his house later.” She mentioned nonchalantly as she popped her gum in her mouth.

“What about curfew?”

She shrugged, “I don’t think they’re being too strict about it. It’s probably safer that we’re all together anyway.”

You still looked convinced, so she added, “But if you’re really worried, we can just stay over at his place. His parents are out of town.”

“Does your dad know?” You glanced at her curiously.

“God, no,” she laughed, shaking her head. “He’s working a night shift so he’ll be busy patrolling. And I’ll just tell my mom we’re staying at yours.”

“Okay. We can go.”

“Yeah?” She looked surprised, a bright smile painting her face. It was infectious as you found yourself smiling back at her and nodding. She bumped shoulders with you, wiggling her eyebrows as she leaned in, “Hmm, I like the new you. She’s fun.”

You were surprised how easy it was for you to agree to the party. Maybe last night gave you more confidence to just live a little. All you knew was the old you would have opted to stay at Haena’s for another night in and you didn’t want to be stuck in your old ways. You owed it to yourself and everyone you loved to move on.

You had foolishly fallen into a sense of false security, not necessarily forgetting about the horrors your town had been cursed with but just for once not having it in the forefront of your mind. You had felt closer to your boyfriend than ever before and now you were ready to be more adventurous. It wasn’t until later in the day did that bubble of excitement pop.

When the classroom door opened to reveal Sheriff Lee, the students around you immediately began whispering to each other conspiringly. You wondered what it could be this time around as he whispered something to the teacher before turning back to face front with a serious expression. Your teacher’s eyes landed on you as she waved her hand, “YN.”

Everyone around you hushed as you gathered your things with shaking hands, making your way to the front of the room quickly. The air out in the hallway felt different, less suffocating. It somewhat helped your rising anxiety.

One look at Sheriff Lee gave you a new perspective of this man who had practically raised you. He wasn’t that old, only early 50s, but the stress he had put under with his profession had aged him. He had tired bags under his eyes, worry lines on his forehead, and sprouting grays here and there. He had always been handsome and you could tell he would continue to age like wine. But that didn’t change how sad it made you to see him in this state.

“YN, I’m afraid I have some bad news. There was a report of a car that wrecked on the side of the road just outside of town.” He spoke slowly as he relayed the information, the consideration from him not lost on you. You were trying to process it all while still not understanding why he was telling you this. “It was your dad’s car.”

Your heart stopped as you clutched your school bag in your hand. Thoughts were going wild in your head as your breathing became erratic. You didn’t know what any of this meant. 

“What, um... is he dead?” Your tongue felt disconnected like your brain was just on autopilot.

“No one has seen him yet.” He sighed, a deep frown etched across his features. “I know you said he was leaving for a work trip but have you spoken to him at all since he left?”

He was aware that your father wasn’t known for contacting you at times like these, but you understood he still had to ask. “No. The last time I saw him was the night before he left.”

He nodded as if he expected that, giving you a small smile. “Well, we’ll keep looking. In the meantime, I want you to stay out of your house in case there are any clues to where he could have gone. And it’s probably safer that you’re not alone right now.”

“Okay.”

It seemed like he wanted to say more but clearly was out of his depth when it came to comforting someone. It wasn’t like he could make any promises about finding your dad because the truth was he was most likely gone. You had dealt with enough loss that you knew this feeling well. You gave him a matching small smile, albeit weak but you hoped it would appear encouraging.

“Thank you, Sheriff Lee.”

*****

School ended early that day, mostly due to the fact that half the staff had called out in fear of receiving the same fate as Principal Choi. It was strange that they even had anyone come in at all but you figured the police had already suspected the killer was at the school, thus being their best bet at finding them. Everyone was on edge as if Ghostface was still lurking in its shadows. Which technically, he probably was.

You had already started to go through in your mind which students in your school could have done it. There were a few stronger girls in your class who could have had the physical power to do it, but they were all too nice or non confrontational. There were plenty of bully-like guys that could fit the description, but you had a hard time truly seeing any of your classmates being involved in such gruesome scenes. It’s just that all the victims had one thing in common: the high school. It only made sense that all suspicion would be pointed here.

Eventually, you gave up trying to figure it out because you were only going in circles in your head. The police would figure it out. Tonight was supposed to be fun and you were sure the killer wouldn’t be brave enough to attack a whole group of teenagers. There was strength in numbers and you felt safer this way.

As you and Haena made your way up the driveway, music could be heard blasting from inside. You weren’t even that late but it seems the party was already in full swing. There were a dozen football players and cheerleaders lounging in the main room when you walked in, most of them unknown to you. Haena greeted a few people in the hallway and you followed her into the kitchen as she searched for some refreshments. 

“It’s about time you guys showed up,” Jungkook yelled from where he was standing by the snack table.

“I see you guys couldn’t wait to get started,” Haena eyed where Hobi was pouring beer down a funnel into Jin’s mouth.

“Well no one told you guys to arrive fashionably late,” Hobi replied, high-fiving Jin before switching places with him. Haena rolled her eyes, moving on to talk to Jungkook on the other side of the room.

“Hey, have you guys seen Taehyung?” You asked, leaning against the countertop island.

“He was in here earlier. I think he said something about going outside for a smoke,” Jin informed, not taking his eyes off where he was pouring.

You briefly wondered how you had missed him if you had just come from the outside but shrugged it off. He had to be around here somewhere. You ventured out into the main room and plopped down on the couch. The music had been turned down a bit as they were going back and forth trying to decide what movie to watch. For some reason, the genre they had settled on was horror which was in poor taste in your opinion. At least it was entertaining to hear them argue about who usually survives in a horror movie.

A hand on your shoulder startled you, looking up to see Hobi standing there with the telephone. “Phone for you.”

You held in your confusion as you got up to take the call in a quieter area. “Hello?”

“YN, it’s Namjoon.” Of all people who could be calling you, he was probably the last one you would suspect. “Are you guys okay?”

“Yes, why wouldn’t we be?”

“I’m guessing you haven’t heard yet.” He sighed and your heart thudded in your chest, unable to speak as you willed him to continue. “Sheriff Lee’s dead. They found him strung up on one of the field goals in the football field.”

You almost dropped the phone, a stuttered gasp being the only sound you could make for a moment. 

“Oh god,” you finally spoke, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Is Haena with you?” He asked quickly, trying to distract you.

“Yes.” Swallowing, you covered your other ear as the voices in the main room started getting louder. How were you supposed to tell everyone? You were surprised you were even still standing.

“Stay with her. If I were you, I wouldn’t leave that house. ”

You were still so in shock from the news about your Haena’s father that it suddenly dawned on you that he had figured out where you were without you ever telling him. 

“How did you know I was here?”

“Someone reported a large gathering of students at the Jeon house on the scanner. I had a feeling you would be there.” His answer was a shock to you, not expecting anyone to know about the party as it was out on the edge of town.

“O-okay, I better go warn everyone...”

“YN?” You held in your breath as you waited for him to continue, unease crawling into your system at his pause. “Be careful.”

For him to sound so concerned for you only heightened your paranoia, quickly walking back into the main room where everyone was. Jungkook was sprawled out on the couch now along with Jin and Hobi, throwing his head back at something the latter had said. You shakily placed the phone back on the stand.

“Jungkook, I need to talk to you.” You were surprised your voice was so steady, his big eyes meeting yours as he took in your expression.

“Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” He joked, standing up to meet you behind the couch.

“Kim Namjoon just called me,” You felt your stomach flip as you held the back of the couch for support. “Sheriff Lee was murdered.”

You had tried to be discreet about it but your shock must have garnered enough attention, gasps sounding around the room as they all picked up on what you had revealed.

“Holy shit, I’m getting out of here.”

There was a chorus of responses as people started to make themselves scarce, clearly not in the mood for a party anymore. The only ones that stayed were Hobi and Jin, either not concerned enough about the killer or not brave enough to leave the house. You weren’t sure which group you belonged to but you knew you had to find Haena. You looked up at Jungkook, who was staring at the carpet with a serious expression on his face and biting his lip.

“Where’s Haena?” It was like he almost didn’t hear you until you shook his shoulder. “Jungkook?”

“Um, she went to get more beer-” He blinked a few times, waving his arm behind him. “Garage.”

You walked quickly around the house, trying to find the correct door to the garage. When you finally did, it was pitch black save for some light coming in from the opened garage door. You almost turned back as it was clear there was no one in here before something made you stop. There was no noise, no movement but you felt like something was in here.

Your hand sought out the light, switching it on and blinking as it flicked a few times before brightening up the room. Your gaze flitted around, almost giving up before you saw something dark and red that made you flinch backwards. 

There was a piercing scream and you felt the ground beneath you move, your ass hitting the wooden step hard. It wasn’t long before thundering steps came behind you, stopping as they hit your back. Your ears, seemingly filled with water with how muted everything seemed, caught a few more gasps and screams. Hands gripped you under your armpits, pulling you up over the steps and back into the hallway.

After that, everything was a blur of commotion. You were vaguely aware of people yelling around you but it wasn’t until Hobi crouched down, waving his hand in front of your face that you felt alert again.

“I think she’s in shock,” He relayed to the others.

“YN?” Taehyung’s voice sounded from the other end of the hallway, his expression bewildered as he approached quickly. “I heard screaming.”

“Jesus, where have you been Tae?” Jin asked.

“Having a smoke,” Hobi moved out of the way so Taehyung could kneel before you, bringing his hands to your cheeks and analyzing your face closely. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Haena...”

“Go find Jungkook,” Tae instructed the older two.

Hobi groaned, “Why do we have to keep splitting up? This is what the killer wants!”

Jin smacked him behind his head, angling his head towards your shell shocked figure. “Shut up, would you?”

The two of them walked off, bickering quietly as they went. Taehyung sat with you silently as you stayed in the same position, wiping away any tears that escaped. You stared at the floor as your mind raced with a million thoughts, not a single one sticking long enough for you to linger on.

How could this happen so fast? You had just seen Haena in the kitchen talking to Jungkook. Everything was fine. You couldn’t have been gone from her for more than thirty minutes and yet so much had changed. It didn’t make any sense.

First Sheriff Lee, now Haena. The killer was getting closer. No, the killer was already here. It couldn’t have been Jungkook, Hobi, or Jin. They had all been with you.

But...

“Taehyung?” He looked up at you, surprised to hear your voice finally. He leaned in, reaching a hand out to brush your hair back but you shied away. He reared back in shock, his expression confused as he met your suspicious one.

“What?”

“You were... smoking? For thirty minutes?” Your voice was unsure as you questioned him, sounding stuffed up from all the crying.

“Yes, wh-” The sound of screaming from outside interrupted him. You shot up from your spot, running towards the front door where it came from. “Wait, YN! Don’t!”

You ignored him as you threw open the door; you needed to stop any more evil from happening. You had already lost so much in your life. Enough was enough.

The sight of Hobi’s bloody body laying on the front steps had you freezing in your tracks, feeling Taehyung’s chest collide with your back a moment later. The two of you stared in shock before you became aware of the violent tussle happening further out in the yard. It was hard to make it out but it looked like Jungkook and Jin were fighting. What the hell had happened? You were guessing this was Jungkook’s fight-or-flight response to finding out about Haena.

“Stay right here,” Taehyung spoke softly to you as he brushed past you, walking around Hobi’s battered body and approaching the two other boys with a calmness you didn’t quite understand.

The further he went out, the harder it was to make out who was who especially as they moved between bushes and trees. You felt anxious and stupid as you just stood there, your feet itching to move out and help them but not knowing if it was a smart idea.

“YN,” A voice coughed out from below you, a gasp escaping as you fell to your knees where Hobi was laying. You had been so distracted by the fight that you almost forgot he was there.

“What happened?” You asked urgently, grabbing one of his hands and squeezing.

He choked a bit, blood spraying out onto his lips and neck. “Don’t trust them.” He gave your hand one last squeeze, meeting your eyes as if to make the message stronger. You watched in concern as he closed his eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly. He was still alive but he wasn’t doing well. He needed medical care immediately.

“YN! Get inside now!” Your head flew up to see Taehyung underneath Jin, the two of them fighting over something shiny and sharp-looking between them as what looked like Jungkook was passed out next to them.

Your gaze flew back and forth from them to Hobi’s unconscious face, trying to figure out who to believe. You took a deep breath and ran back inside, locking the door behind you as you ran for the phone. You hit redial, hoping it would direct you to Namjoon. You never thought you could ever cry with relief at hearing his voice.

“YN? Are you okay?”

“Namjoon, tell the police the boys must have snapped or something, I don’t know. But Haena’s dead and we need help.” The words flew out of you so fast you weren’t even sure what all you said, hoping you got the message across as you huffed.

The line went silent at that, and you held your breath as you waited for a response. But there was nothing - just dead air.

“Hello? Namjoon?” You tried again, pulling the phone away before you realized the line was dead. Someone had cut the lines. “Shit.”

Just then, a sudden banging could be heard from the front door followed by desperate shouts of your name. You ran over to it, ready to unlock the door when you hesitated with your hand on the lock.

“Who’s there?”

“YN, let me in! Hurry!” The urgency in Jin’s voice made you throw open the door, gasping when you saw him covered in blood with a knife in his hand.

“Jin, what-”

“Don’t let him in, YN! He attacked me!” Jungkook suddenly appeared behind him, a deep cut on his cheek that hadn’t been there before. 

You looked between Jungkook and Jin, trying to decipher who to believe but not finding any conclusive evidence. To be honest, when you saw them out in the yard before, it was hard to tell who had even started the fight. And now seeing them both with blood on them, you felt at a loss. All you knew was people were dying and someone had cut the phone lines. You didn’t know who you could trust.

“Fuck, I can’t.” You slammed the door as quickly as you could, locking it again. The banging and shouting continued.

“Help me! He’s gone crazy!”

You stood there for a few moments, palms still on the door as you willed your racing heart to calm down. Tonight had been nonstop crazy and you couldn’t remember the last time it was at a resting rate. Before you could turn around, a pair of hands landed on your shoulders and ruined any chance of your heartbeat slowing down any time soon. You shrieked as you turned around, not expecting to see Taehyung standing behind you. 

“Shh, it’s just me.”  He shushed you, putting his hands on your shoulders to calm you down. 

“Wh- how did you get in here?” You hadn’t seen him outside just now.

“I came in through the back. Are you okay?” He checked over your body, fingers brushing over the visible skin on your face and arms.

“I’m fine but Tae, where have you been all night?” Your exasperated tone caught him off guard, a somber look coating his features as he regarded you. “I’m getting really freaked out.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to run off like that. I’ve just been trying to protect you.” His words didn’t make any sense but you weren’t thinking clearly enough to dissect what he meant.

The banging grew louder and Taehyung moved to open it. The roles were reversed this time as you shook your head at him, silently urging him not to let anyone in. Your fingers gripped the sleeve of his sweater anxiously. He turned to look at you, his hand coming up to cover yours on his arm.

“It’s okay. You can trust me.” He nodded at you with a small smile, and you released the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

The door swung open to reveal Jungkook standing there looking out of breath, but his face lit up when he saw you standing there with Taehyung. A grin broke out across his face, “The gang’s all here!”

You could only watch in confusion as Jungkook stepped in in the same move that Taehyung backed you up with him. Jungkook shut the door behind him looking gleeful as ever. You looked at Taehyung who had a serious look on his face but you recognized a glint of something in his eye, almost like he had just won a bet or something.

“What’s going on?” You asked, stepping back cautiously from them. The energy had changed drastically and you didn’t like it one bit.

Taehyung eyed you like you were a scared animal, holding his hands out as if to placate you. His gaze was locked on yours and you almost felt like he could read your thoughts, anticipating your next move before you could even do it.

“Surprise, YN.” Jungkook smirked at you, looking far too elated right now to have just lost his girlfriend.

Your eyes flitted back and forth between the two of them before you spun around, racing toward the kitchen to find something you could defend yourself with. Although you had no proof, you knew it was them. Taehyung and Jungkook were the killers. You didn’t have time to feel heartbroken and betrayed. Your only thought right now was survival.

Before you could get far, arms wrapped around your waist and yanked you back towards a firm chest. You eyed the knife block longingly - so close. Taehyung held you tightly to his front, turning the two of you around so you were backed up against the counter. Jungkook leered from across the room looking like a dangerous predator.

“Why are you doing this?” You cried, hot tears streaming down your face.

“I already told you. I’m protecting you.” Taehyung explained as if it was the most obvious thing.

“By killing all my family and friends? You’re fucking crazy!” Your voice grew louder, unable to feel shy about getting angry despite being caught in a murderer’s arms.

Taehyung was a murder. Your soft, loving, artsy boyfriend was a cold-blooded killer. This was a nightmare; this couldn’t be real.

“Yes, I am crazy, but only for you. I would do anything for you, YN.”

“You’ll never get away with this.”

Jungkook chuckled, “Tell that to Min Yoongi. You wouldn’t believe how easy he was to frame.”

“What did you have against my brother?” There was a lot to unpack here but this was the question you had been wondering for a whole year.

“Your brother wasn’t the picture perfect star quarterback everyone believed him to be. He had a bad habit of date raping girls from other schools, including my cousin.” Taehyung answered for you, the lack of eye contact with him making him hard to read if what he was saying was true.

“You’re lying,” You hissed, trying desperately to break out of his arms.

“Why are you defending him? He was never nice to you.” Jungkook reminded you, his eyes calculating and cold. “Face it, YN. Your brother was a bad apple who got what was coming to him.”

“What do you have to gain from this?”

“Well, naturally, I wanted his spot on the team.” He grinned at you, flashing a perfect set of teeth. “It wasn’t hard for Taehyung to convince me once I realized what a piece of shit he was.”

“And Haena?” You glared at Jungkook. “How could you kill your own girlfriend?”

“I can’t take credit for that,” He nodded towards Taehyung behind you and you felt your body go still. “You saw me. I was here the whole night.”

“Wrong place, wrong time.” Taehyung added, leaning his head on the space between your shoulder and your neck. “But I won’t lie. I hated sharing her with you all the time.”

“You’re okay with him murdering your girlfriend?”

“I liked Haena but she didn’t get me. She didn’t get you either.” Jungkook approached the two of you slowly, dark gaze zeroed in on your anguished expression. He reached out to caress your face, causing you to tense up as Taehyung straightened behind you. “You’re too good for her.”

“Jungkook.” Taehyung’s voice was rough as he motioned with his head towards another part of the kitchen. The two shared some sort of unspoken communication as something dawned on the other boy.

“Oh yeah! We got a surprise for you, YN.” Jungkook’s voice grew louder and more excited as he walked towards the hallway closet door. “You’re gonna love this. It’s a scream, baby.”

It didn’t take him long to retrieve what he was looking for, your eyes almost bulging out of your head as you saw who it was. “Dad!” He was tied up with tape around his mouth and a nasty cut on his forehead.

“See, YN? We got it all figured out, don’t worry.” Jungkook began, pulling the knife from his pants and stuffing it in your dad’s belt. “The cops are already onto him and now the evidence is all over him. Just one more thing to do.”

Leaving you no time to react, Jungkook pulled a gun from behind his pants and aimed it right at your father’s head, shooting him dead. You couldn’t help the scream that tore out of your lungs. You felt cold all over, like your body had disconnected from your brain. Vaguely, you registered Taehyung’s arms holding you steady as your knees buckled.

“He deserved it, YN.” Taehyung spoke so plainly about the murder of your father like it was just a harmless prank he had pulled, “He didn’t appreciate what he had. Deep down, we all know he blamed you for being the one that survived. He never loved you the way a father should.”

The harsh reality of his words hurt. It was like he was looking into your soul, into your deepest darkest feelings that you had tried to keep down for so long.

“We did you a favor.” Jungkook added, his dark stare penetrating you where you stood behind the kitchen island. “And he makes the perfect suspect, triggered by your brothers’ death anniversary, then goes on a killing spree and finally kills himself with the sheriff’s gun. It’s like it was meant to be.”

These two were insane, no doubt about it. They had seen too many scary movies and now they felt like they were invincible. You could practically feel the adrenaline running through Taehyung’s veins.

“And now what? I’m next?”

“Of course not,” Taehyung laughed, switching you around so that he cornered you into the kitchen counter. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead, ignoring your deep cringe. “This has all been for you, baby.”

“Now, we finish what we started.”

Faster than you could blink, Taehyung swung at Jungkook, causing him to keel over. Red started pooling through the side of his shirt as he coughed into his hand, staining it with blood. You couldn’t believe your eyes.

“Tae, what the fuck?” Jungkook grunted, holding his side as he looked up at Taehyung in shock.

“I changed my mind. I don’t need a sidekick anymore.” Taehyung sneered, a venomous look on his face. “Thanks for all the help, buddy.”

Jungkook fell to the kitchen floor and Taehyung moved on top of him, stabbing him a few more times for good measure. In his bloodlust frenzy, he failed to notice that he had turned his back on you. Not only that, but the gun in Jungkook’s hand was now within reach of you.

You wasted no time in falling to your knees to grab it, quickly standing up and aiming it at the back of his head. Taehyung froze, still not facing you but somehow already figuring out his mistake. It was a foolish move on his part but he wasn’t exactly thinking clearly.

“Don’t move.” You spoke clearly, trying to keep your hand steady.

He didn’t listen to you though, moving slowly and carefully as he got off of Jungkook. He turned around with his hands raised, eyes wide as he stared at you. “YN, don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

“I said don’t move!” You yelled, your fingers trembling. You had never even held a gun before and now here you were aiming it at the love of your life.

“I know you don’t understand right now but you have to know: I did it all for you. So that we could be closer. I never meant to hurt you.” The sight of him inching further set you off, giving you the motivation you needed to pull the trigger.

“Goodbye, Taehyung.” You closed your eyes, not wanting to see the image of the light draining from his eyes.

It was over.

*****

Months later, you were relieved to find that life had seemed to calm down after that horrible night full of evil and bloodshed. You had suffered and lost so many people you loved. Much like a year before, only this time you felt somewhat hopeful for the future. Death couldn’t follow you around anymore like a bad curse; the evil was dead and gone from your life. It was the only thing keeping you going.

That and having a positive influence in your life, like for example Namjoon. He was the first to find you there at the Jeon house after getting your phone call but never receiving your message due to the phones being tampered with. You were lying on the kitchen floor, covered in blood and still in shock over everything. He had been so helpful, urging you to call 911 on his cell phone while he checked to see if Hobi and Jin were still somehow alive - which by some miracle, they were. They had sustained serious injuries and were lucky to be alive, each spending quite some time in the hospital and then physical therapy after that. You visited them almost every day.

It had been hard, dealing with the survivor’s guilt. Losing your entire family, best friend, and boyfriend (even though he had been the cause of it all) had done some serious damage to your mental health. And despite all the therapy you had been receiving and would continue to receive, you knew it would never completely be healed. But that was okay. In your mind, you deserved some kind of scar from the whole ordeal since you hadn’t suffered any physical injuries. Several of your friends were dead or badly hurt - you could deal with it if not for yourself, then for them.

The best part about it was being able to exonerate Yoongi. To finally be able to see some emotion from him on the day the judge ruled him not guilty had been life changing. Yoongi had always been such a calm guy and never blamed you for the year of his life wasted behind bars. You wanted desperately to make it up for him but didn’t know how you possibly could. Namjoon assured you that you had done enough but the guilt never seemed to go away.

Namjoon and you had started to develop more of a friendly relationship, something you had never expected to come out of this. But after all the conflict was gone, it was much easier to see each other’s point of view. And the truth was, he had always been right.

“Got any plans this weekend?” Namjoon asked as he poured some sugar into his coffee before taking a sip.

“Not sure,” you began, taking a breath as you thought it over. “I got invited to an end-of-year party but I’m not sure if I should go. Feels too soon.”

“Oh, you should definitely go. It’s not as soon as you think.” He responded encouragingly, sounding like a big brother.

“I just don’t see what there’s to celebrate about.” You shrugged, meeting his gaze.

“There’s plenty to celebrate! How about surviving a tragic murder spree, exonerating an innocent man, finishing up a school year?” You didn’t look convinced, so he tried again, “Come on, I think it would be good for you to get out. You shouldn’t stay in that big house by yourself all the time.”

“You sound like my therapist.” You rolled your eyes at him, stirring the tea in your cup mindlessly.

“Well, you sound like a petulant child.” He chuckled.

You opened your mouth to retort, eyes flying up to look at him when something in the distance caught your eye. Your body felt cold, frozen up as you stared at the familiar figure. Dark black mop of hair covered his face, baggy sweater and jeans on his frame. You blinked a few times but he didn’t move at all. It didn’t make any sense. 

“YN? What is it?” Namjoon waved a hand in your face, distracting you from whatever it was you just saw.

“Huh?” You asked, blinking at Namjoon before glancing back at where he stood before. Only now, there was nobody in sight. You cleared your throat as your gaze fell back on the man before you, “Uh, nothing.”

“You looked like you saw a ghost.” He laughed, eyebrows furrowing at you in a concerned manner.

“Yeah, right.” You shook your head. There was no such thing.

I’ll always love you, YN. I’ll never leave you.

*****

A/N: i'm baaaack! ngl i'm proud of myself for getting this one done bc it was a whopper. i really hoped you liked it! scream is one of my fave scary movies so i've always wanted to make an AU for it. ty for reading and pls lmk what you think!!

[moody-alcoholic]

Chapter 4 - The Stalker

Summary: 5.2k words. 141 learn about your stalker situation and Simon makes a plan to help, but things escalate faster then expected and you end up having to come to terms with things a lot quicker then you expect.

CW: mentions of trauma, mental health, abusive ex, stalking, talking about physical abuse, alcohol, angst, hurt/comfort (kinda).

Previous - masterlist - Next

AO3

Enjoy <3

“Let’s debrief, then maybe you will get some answers.” John says standing up straight. 

“How did the Renfolds job go?” He asks looking over at Simon. 

“Easy, needed his weapon cleaning. Built a shooting range in his basement.” Simon explains. 

“Anything we should be concerned about?” John asks. 

“Don’t think so, seems like it’s just for personal use.” Simon says. John looks down at you. 

“What do you think?” You look up at John confused. He want’s your opinion? 

“I-I don’t know, I was a bit distracted by the guns, and the shooting range.” And how good Simon looked. John nods looking over at Johnny. 

“What happened with you?” He asks. 

“Well it was all going according to plan until the supposedly empty building was no longer empty.” Johnny explained smiling.

“You were only supposed to be gathering intel how did it end in a gunfight?” John asked. 

“They didn’t take kindly to me snooping around their stuff.” Johnny says shrugging. “You should have sent Ghost in.” 

“I needed you to confirm the cargo. I gave Ghost the Renfolds job so he’d be near by.” John explained. Johnny nodded. 

“Well they’ve got enough explosives in that place to blow London to pieces.” 

“Is it secure?” John asks.

“About as secure as it can be, I found shipping manifests, I assume they’re planning on moving it when they get the chance.” Johnny explains.

“Hang on a second.” You interrupt. “You had a gunfight in a building with enough explosives to blow up London?” Simon chuckles behind you. 

“Johnny’s being dramatic. But yes unfortunately we weren’t left with much of a choice.” John says. He looks over at Johnny and Gaz for a second. 

“Johnny, and Gaz go back tomorrow secure the place then hand it over to the Met. The quicker we can get everything destroyed the better.” John says as you watch Johnny and Kyle nod. 

“The Met? As in New Scotland Yard as in the metropolitan police?” You ask. John nods. 

“It’s expensive for the Met to plan a sting, collect the legal evidence, wait for warrants. When we can just sneak in and get all the evidence they need and maybe even shut it down for them. We’re cheaper too.” John explains.

“So you work for the Met?” You ask. You hear Simon laugh again. 

“No, we don’t work for anyone, but sometimes they ask for our help and we’re usually more then happy to oblige.” 

“Besides means they turn a blind eye when we make people disappear.” Johnny laughs winking at you. You can’t tell if he’s being serious or not. There’s a few seconds of silence before everyone turns to you. 

“You said you were recommended us, why?” John asks. You suddenly feel nervous, you start rubbing your hands together. They’ve cleared up somethings now it’s your turn. 

“I have an ex.” You say looking down at the floor. Great start. 

“We broke up about a month ago, it was messy. I don’t think he’s quite over it yet.” You remember the break up. It was messy, in multiple ways. Lot’s of shouting, screaming, the police being called. You hoped it would be the last time you’d ever have to explain away bruises. You locked him out your flat and he sat outside the door begging to be let back in. How sorry he was, eventually you caved letting him fearing your neighbours would report you to the police for noise disturbance. It was the worst decision you made.

You feel a hand on your shoulder pulling you out of you head. You look up Johnny has moved closer to you. It’s Simon’s hand on your shoulder, you almost can’t believe it, he gives you a gentle squeeze. You thought he hated you. Or at the very least was annoyed by your presence. Maybe you misjudged him. 

“Is he stalking you lass?” Johnny asks. You don’t know what to say, you don’t exactly have proof just a feeling. You can’t get all worked up over a feeling. You know he’s been trying to contact you, creating accounts on social media to message you to the point where you needed to deactivate all your accounts. You know he’s been finding your number every time you change it, and you know he’s in contact with your family.

“He just won’t leave me alone. I think it’s making me paranoid. He keeps getting my number every time I change it. He managed to get a key to my flat after I kicked him out. I came home one day to find him moved back in. He..” You stop yourself. They didn’t need to know how that story ends. Simon's hand is warm on your shoulder, you don’t want it to leave. You sigh looking up. 

“I don’t have proof, if that’s you want it’s just a stupid feeling.” You say looking at John. 

“When was the last time he contacted you?” John asks.

“Saturday.” You say, John hums his eyes flick up to Simon. You look over at Johnny and Kyle, they’re leaned forward in the sofa looking at you. 

“I’m assuming this relationship was not the best?” Simon asks. You shake your head. He squeezes your shoulder again then his hand leaves. 

“C’mon, lets have a chat.” He says. You get up confused. All of a sudden he wants to talk? You follow him and he takes you into John’s office, closing the door behind you. 

“Sit,” he says pointing at the sofa in the corner of the room. He drags over one of the chairs and sits in front of you. There is a coffee table between you both, you look at him as he leans forward in the chair. 

“I thought maybe you would like some privacy.” He says. You sigh and go back to rubbing your hands. 

“Let’s start easy. What’s his name?” Simon asks. 

“Joe, Joe Sharp.” You say. 

“How long were you together?” 

“3 years, we lived together for 2, that’s when things changed when he moved in.” You say, hanging your head again. 

“Abusive?” He asks. You nod.

“Physical, verbal?” You nod again. You hear him sigh. 

“Why do you think he’s stalking you?” He asks you look up at him. His eyes are soft, kind. Even the way he’s holding his body, he’s like a different person. 

“I don’t know I think I’m just paranoid, he’s been so desperate to keep in contact with me that I think I just over think everything. I feel like I see him when I’m sure he’s not there. I feel like I’m being followed whenever I’m alone. The nightmares about him breaking into my flat don’t help.” You stop yourself. 

“It sounds stupid when I say it out loud.” 

“It’s not stupid.” Simon says. “Hey look at me.” You look up at him. 

“It’s not stupid. You would be surprised how many times people think they’re being stalked only to find out their intuition was correct.” He says. You nod. 

“First things first though we need proof.”

“I don’t have any.” You admit. He nods. 

“That’s okay, the best way to get a stalker out is to make them jealous. Do you have social media, Facebook, Instagram? Whatever one people use now-a-days.” 

“I’ve deactivated them but I can get them back.” You say reaching for your phone. He nods.

“Make a post, something along the lines of ‘I’m so happy in my new relationship.’ If you want to make it extra believable I can hold your hand you can take a picture?” He says, raising an eyebrow. You nod and he gets up moving next to you on the sofa. He lays his hand out palm up and you slip your fingers between his. His hands are big, and soft. Not what you were expecting. It sends shivers down your spine. It’s the first time you’ve held anyone's hand since your ex.

This is not the same though, this is not romantic. Why does it feel so nice though. You bring your phone up and snap the picture. Looking up at him, his eyes look deep into yours, he has such beautiful eyes. You look away taking your hand out his so you can get back to typing. You pick Instagram, it’s most likely the one he would check the most. You type it out and attach the photo. 

“Should I unblock his accounts?” You ask nervously. 

“It would be helpful, you can always block him again after.” He says. You hover over the post button. You turn to look at Simon. 

“You don’t have to do this but trust me it’s the easiest and quickest way to bait him out.” Simon says. You take a deep breath in and post it. 

“Good now we wait.” Simon says getting up. You follow putting your phone back in your pocket. 

“What do I do?” You ask. 

“Get on with your day act like everything is normal. I’ll give you my number. He tries to contact you, you think you see him, you get a feeling that he’s following you, anything. You call me immediately.” His voice is commanding, he’s looking you in the eyes. It’s not hairs standing up on the back of your neck anymore it’s a new feeling, like a warmth deep within you. You swallow hard handing him your phone so he can put his number in. You take it back putting it back in your pocket. 

“Simon, I can’t afford to hire you guys, I heard you’re pretty pricey.” You say as he turns to leave the room. 

“Don’t worry about that.” He says. That doesn't exactly put you at ease but it’s better then them demanding payment. They’re helping you, they don’t need to. Besides what if you’re wrong and it is all just your paranoid mind playing tricks on you. Then you’ve just wasted their time. You try to push the thoughts away, especially now you’ve basically just kicked the hornets nest. 

When you get back out Simon explains the situation without going into too much detail. He tells Johnny to walk you home. This time when you go to protest you’re shut down by John who insists it’s necessary. You don’t argue it’s been a long day. You let Johnny take you home, he keeps you at ease, back to his bubbly self as he spouts off more stories from his army days. He keeps your mind occupied, you’re not constantly looking over your shoulder. 

“You know you did good today. Most people would have freaked out.” Johnny says once you reach the building. 

“I don’t know if I’ve processed it really yet.” You say chuckling. He nods.

“Well you have my number if you need anything.” He says. 

“Thanks, you take care of that arm.” You say. 

“‘Cause lass it’ll be good as new by tomorrow.” He says patting you on the shoulder then turns to leave. 

—————————— 

By the evening you had calmed down and you were sat watching TV. You couldn’t help but think back to holding Simon’s hand. You find yourself opening your phone and checking the picture. It was a nice picture even though you only snapped it quickly. God were you really that lonely that holding someones hand is enough to have you craving touch. You smile anyway letting yourself enjoy the feeling. It had been a while since you could imagine yourself being touched, or held like that again, let alone falling in love. Maybe this was healing, maybe the dark thoughts bought on with receiving any amount off affection were gone. It’s not long before the peacefulness of the moment is shattered by a sharp knock at the door. You panic almost instantly, holding your breath. 

“Babe it’s me.” You freeze as he knocks again. You look down at your phone, your fingers working their way to your contact list. You can’t think. Maybe he’ll think you’re out. You crawl off the sofa to the TV and the light to turn them off as the phone rings. 

“Hello.” It’s Simon’s voice, it snaps you back into reality. You can still hear him calling at the door. You crawl into the bedroom leaning up against the bed.  

“H-He’s at my door Simon.” You say hearing your voice break. 

“Okay where are you in the living room?” He asks, you can hear keys jingling down the phone. 

“Bedroom.” You say as quiet as you can so you’re sure he won’t be able to hear you. 

“Okay, I’m on my way can you stay were you are?” He says as you hear a car door close. You’re too scared to move, even if you wanted too. 

“Yeah, I-I’m staying here.” You say. The knocking has stopped but you’re sure you can still hear his feet shuffling outside. 

“I’m going to hang up now but I’ll be there soon okay.” 

“Okay.” You reply back tears are streaming down your cheeks now. You hear the call end and you clutch the phone. 

“Baby, we need to talk. Are you seeing someone else? Is he here now?” You hear him say, there’s an edge to his voice, something you haven’t herd in ages, it’s anger. You want to scream, yell at him to go away but you’re still trying to cling on to the fact he might not know you’re in. You sit there for what feels like hours hugging your legs. Eventually after a few more pleas and knocks it goes silent and stays silent.

Your heart is pounding in your chest and you feel sick. Where is Simon? It’s hard to keep track of time. You start spiralling, thinking of the worst possible things. This was the first time he has been back to the flat since you had the locks changed. That was almost 4 weeks ago. This is the closest he has been to you since you broke up with him. It felt too close. Like not even a deadbolt on the door or changing the locks could stop him. There is another knock at the door. You freeze again almost want to scream at him to leave. Why is he here why is he back? 

“It’s me, it’s Simon.” For a second you don’t believe it what if it’s a trick? No you called him and now he’s here. You force yourself to stand up walking over to the front door still clutching your phone in your hand. You unlock the dead bolt, then the lock, then open the handle. You see him standing there, you look round there is definitely no one else around now. He steps inside and you go through your routine of closing all the locks and covering the peephole. He looks around your tiny flat then turns to you.

“You okay?” he asks. You nod, it’s a lie but you don’t care he’s here now and that makes you feel safe. 

“Did you see him?” You ask, he shakes his head. He walks around your flat quickly, looking into the bedroom then walks back over to you. 

“I’ll stay the night, if that’s alright with you?” He asks. You don’t really know how to respond to that. This is the first time you have had a man in your flat since the break up. He dropped everything to come when you needed him. You feel safe around him but you don’t know him. You want to get to know him though. And you definitely don't want to be alone. 

“You can stay.” You say, swallowing the lump in your throat. He nods. 

“You sure you’re okay?” He asks frowning. You don’t want to lie again but you weren't expecting him to ask again. Tears threaten to spill down your cheeks and you force yourself to choke them away. 

“Sit down, I’ll get you a drink.” He says, turning into your kitchen. You walk over to the couch and sit down. 

“There’s wine in the fridge.” You say. 

“Lets start with water.” He replies as you hear the tap run. You pull your legs up to your chest. Simon comes over and hands you the glass then sits on the far end of the sofa. You sip the water as you both sit in silence. 

“Did he say anything?” Simon asks. 

“Just the usual, he misses me, he’s sorry, asked if it was true that I was seeing someone.” You say taking another sip of water. You look over at Simon his eyes scanning over you. It’s starting to get dark out but you don’t want to put the lights on worried he’ll see them and come back. 

“Are you hungry?” You ask Simon. 

“I ate at home.” He says. You nod looking at yourself in the black of the TV. You reach over and turn it on to whatever mindless show you were watching before. Simon doesn't say anything sometimes you catch him looking over at you out the corner of your eye. You order some food and something for Simon too, if he wants it. Even though you’re expecting it the doorbell ringing still makes you jump.

“I got it.” Simon says and before you can protest he’s on his feet. 

“One of them is for you.” You say as he passes you the pizza boxes. 

“Thank you,” he says taking one of the boxes and going back to his spot on the sofa. You get up to the kitchen.

“Want a drink?” You ask. 

“Waters fine.” You nod even though he can’t see you. You head back to the couch with the drinks. He smiles at you when you place his drink down on the coffee table. You sit there in silence demolishing your pizza then sipping on your wine till your head starts to clear. You’re not really paying attention to what’s playing on the TV, your mind is preoccupied with the fact Simon is sat in your flat with you eating pizza. Any other situation and this could be classed as a date. The only thing missing is the cuddling and the cheesy chick-flick.

“What made you want to do this? Help me out?” You ask looking over at him. He pauses for a second like he’s thinking of what to say. 

“I don’t like abusers, especially those who don’t know when to stop.” He says turning back to the TV. Okay that’s something you have to be careful about your next questions. 

“What made you want to join the military?” You ask, that seems like a pretty easy question. 

“To do some good.” He says, you’re not sure if that’s the whole reason but hey you’re talking, he’s not shutting you down. 

“Where are you from? You’re not from London.” You say sipping your wine. 

“Manchester. Ever been?” He asks looking at you. 

“No, the furthest north I’ve been is Birmingham.” 

“That’s unfortunate.” He says, you see a little smile on his lips. 

“What about you? You lived in London all your life?” He asks. 

“Yeah, Sutton, till I moved here.” You say.

“It’s a nice place.” He says looking round the flat, it’s dark now only the TV to light up the place.

“I’m thinking of moving, when I can afford another deposit.” You say looking down at your glass of wine. 

“Why?” he asks. 

“You know, fresh start, away from-” You stop yourself drinking the last of your wine and getting up. You pick up the empty pizza boxes. Taking them into the kitchen. You don’t even hear Simon getting up off the sofa you just accidentally back into him. You can feel his chest up against your back, it’s warm, strong, you almost want him to wrap his arms around you. His hands end up on your shoulders and your breath catches in your throat.

“I’ll make sure you’re not afraid to live in your own flat. I promise.” He says, his voice low, his grip on your shoulders soft, but firm. You feel heat rushing to your cheeks, you don’t want to move there’s that feeling again the craving of physical contact. You feel safe when he’s around like you’d trust him with your life. You let out a breath as he moves his hands from your shoulders and steps back. You feel cold suddenly, a shiver runs down your spine. You turn to look at him, you meet his eye line, his eyes are soft almost glazed over as he looks at you.

“Simon, why are you helping me?” You ask again, maybe he’ll give you a different answer. His hand reaches up slowly and you almost flinch, holding your breath as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. His eyes scan your face. 

“Did he ever, hit you?” He asks quietly. You nod, not being able to bring yourself to speak. His thumb brushes your cheek. 

“Choke you?” He asks, his hand resting on your chin. You swallow hard your throat feeling suddenly constricted. 

“You don’t have to answer.” He says. You force yourself to nod. 

“You said he came back after you kicked him out. He got a key and let himself in.” He says. You nod. 

“What happened?” He says gently holding your chin so you can’t look down. You open your mouth but words don’t come out. He lets go of your chin taking a step away to give you some space. Maybe this is what you need to do, to get this off your chest. Will it make you feel better? Maybe? But Simon’s giving you the opportunity to talk. You look down at your hands, forcing yourself to hold back the tears swallowing the lump in your throat. 

“He tried to kill me.” You say finally. It doesn’t feel like a weight off your shoulders, it feels like a punch to the gut. The guilt comes next. Why didn’t you report him? Why didn’t you get a restraining order? Why did you let it happen? You feel sick, your head spinning. You look back up at Simon, there is something different in his expression now. Does he understand? Does he even care? This morning you thought he hated you, now he’s in your flat, he’s not the same Simon you met a few days ago who would barely give you the time of day.

He’s here because you called him for help. He put’s a foot forward almost like he’s trying to test if he can step closer to you. You keep still and he takes that as permission to step to you. His hand cups your face in his warm hands and you look up at him. 

“I'm doing this because you don’t deserve it, that’s why I’m helping you. The torment, the guilt, the sleepless nights. I can’t make it go away but I can try and help.” He says. A tear rolls down your cheek, he brushes it away with his thumb. 

“You sound like you know what it’s like.” You say, trying not to let your voice break. 

“I do,” He sighs, his hands dropping from your face. He turns walking back to the sofa. 

“You should take the bed, you’re bigger it’ll be more comfortable.” You say, you don’t mind sleeping on the sofa at least you’ll fit. 

“Don’t be silly this is your place, your bed.” He says sitting back down on the sofa. You walk into the bedroom brushing away the rest of the tears that managed to escape as you dig through the wardrobe for blankets and pillows. You take them back out to him and place them on the sofa. You don’t know what to say, he’s sat watching the TV, you feel tired, drained. 

“You should get some rest.” He says without looking at you. You nod, turning to head back into the bedroom. 

“If you need anything, just let me know.” You say before you go through the door closing it behind you. You let out a breath, maybe this was healing? You just don’t know it yet. You change into your PJ’s and climb into bed. You can see the moonlight peaking through the blinds lighting up the room. Simon knows what it’s like. Maybe you should have asked him about ex’s. Or maybe it wasn’t his ex. You remember the way he reacted when you asked about his family. You wonder if he still talks to them.

You turn over in the bed looking at the door. It feels weird knowing he’s on the other side. Maybe you should crack the door open, it might make you feel better. You want to feel his hands on you again, squeezing your shoulder or touching your face. He’s gentle, not want you were expecting. You let out a breath and swing your feet out the bed before your brain has really even comprehended what you’re doing. This is a bad idea. He’s a work colleague, this could ruin everything. 

“Simon.” You say as soon as you open the door. He turns to look at you. 

“Will you come lay with me?” You’ve done it now, your cheeks flood with heat as you wait for a laugh, a scoff, him to straight up tell you no.

“You want me to lay with you, in your bed?” He asks sitting forward. You nod, then immediately start regretting it.

“Forget it, it doesn’t matter I’m sorry-”

“It’s okay, I will.” He says stopping you in your tracks and standing up. You stare at him as he turns the TV off walking over to you. You watch as he pulls his boots off leaving them by the front door. 

“If it’s what you want.” He says meeting your eye line. You nod, your heart thumping in your chest. You walk back into the bedroom, and he follows.

“You want me under or on top of the covers?” He asks. You hadn’t even thought about it.

“On top.” He says watching your hesitation. He waits until you get into bed and are comfy before he sits on the other side. You lie down watching him, he’s slow as he swings his legs over almost like he’s trying not to spook you. It doesn’t feel weird. You thought it would having another man in your bed.

It was more weird seeing him in your living room for the first time then right now. Maybe you’re just used to him. Maybe you really do trust him. Maybe you judged him too harshly. He turns on his side looking at you. You move your arm  out from under the covers, you want to touch him, maybe he wouldn’t like that though. You place it down instead. 

“Do you get nightmares?” You ask. 

“All the time.” He replies.

“About your time as a soldier?” 

“And other things.” He says. You sigh. 

“Tell me about how you met Price, and Johnny and Kyle.” You see a smile form on his lips. 

“On one condition.” He says shuffling his body down so his head is level with yours. 

“What?” you ask.

“Promise me no nightmares tonight.” You chuckle. 

“I can’t control that.” 

“Promise.” He says raising an eyebrow. 

“Okay I promise.” You say sighing, even though it’s completely out of your control. His hand moves back up to your face brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I’ll leave when you fall asleep.” He promises. You try to argue with him telling him the bed is comfier then the sofa but he won’t have it. You relent feeling tired, you try to clear your mind and not think about anything just listen to Simon talk about how he met everyone. His voice is calming, his presence puts you at ease. You wish he could stay. You don’t remember falling asleep but that night you dream about him. Good dreams, you’re on a date. Christ you’re falling for him.

—————————— 

You wake to the sun peaking through the bedroom blinds. Simon is not in the room anymore. You slip out of bed and head into the living room. He’s already awake sat at the kitchen table, flicking through a tablet. 

“Morning,” You say walking over to him. 

“Morning,” he replies turning the tablet off. 

“How long have you been awake?” You ask clicking the kettle on. 

“An hour or so.” He says, rubbing his neck.

“I told you you should have taken the bed.” You say taking out two mugs. “Tea?” 

“Please, one sugar.” He says. You think back to last night him lying in the bed with you. You could have swore you felt his hands touching you, brushing your cheek, your hair. Maybe that was just part of the dream. It was a good dream. The best dream you’ve had in months. This is the first time in years you felt safe in your own flat. The click of the kettle snaps you back to reality and you pour the tea’s bringing them over to the table. 

“What were you looking at?” You ask gesturing at the tablet.

“Today's jobs.” Oh shit work! Your head snaps round looking at the clock on the wall it’s all ready 10am. 

“Shit!” You say pushing your chair back. Simon grabs your wrist, you panic. He imminently lets go when your head snaps back to him wide eyed. 

“I called Price, told him we were taking the morning off.” You take a breath in and sit back down, sipping your tea to calm your nerves. He watches you like he’s trying to see how you’re going to react. You smile at him, letting him know you’re okay.

He picks up his mug taking a sip. You’re about to ask him what he want’s to do this morning when there is a crash in the living room. It’s so loud it makes you shriek. Your body snaps round in the chair as you look at the shattered glass now all over the living room. You go to stand up.

“Stay there.” Simon says his hand on your shoulder pushing you back down as he heads over to the balcony door. He goes out looking over the balcony up and down. Leaning round the corners. You guess he doesn't see anything, you can’t think all you can feel is your heart rapidly beating in your chest. He comes back in closing the door and walks round the flat looking for something till he finds it. He picks it up it’s a brick with a letter tied to it. He takes the letter off the brick and opens it, something falls out on the floor and he picks it up. You’re holding your breath, as Simon walks back over to you. It looks like he’s looking through a stack of photos. He places them on the table.

“Well now we have proof.” He says standing next to you as you fan the photo’s out. It’s pictures of you, from yesterday, a few days ago, when you went shopping on Sunday. There are even pictures of you inside your flat. Your head snaps to the window trying to even see where he could have even snapped them from. Panic builds inside you as you continue to look over the photos. Is this a threat? What does this mean? You look up at Simon who’s reading the letter that came with the photos. 

“What does it say?” You ask him, but you really don’t know if you want to know. 

“Let’s just say he’s not happy.” Simon says looking down at you. You didn’t even realise you are gripping his shirt. Maybe this plan was a bad idea.

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