#this semester has been kicking my ass but i managed to find time to draw something

[pineapple-frenzy]

Henlooo!!

[missarchivistdoodles]

I have been in a funk.

And not a fun funky funk like Saturday Night Disco, but a regular 'my brain chemicals went on vacation and forgot to contact the temp agency' funk. Most of the past few months have felt like I've been in a fog. My mom had surgery (and is completely cancer free - after she finishes radiation in two weeks, she'll be officially in 'remission'! And her hair is growing back!), I finished my spring semester and signed up for summer classes, and I've been working extra hours at one of the other libraries in our system. I've also started volunteering at our county museum and have been roped into three separate programs that all have to do with archiving, which is great but also takes up a lot of time. It's all been done through a sort of brain fog, which has been killing me creatively. Luckily my doctor and I worked out a plan and I have now started an ADHD medication called Vyvanse! Do you know what Vyvanse does to a brain that has ADHD?

Dopamine.

All. The. Dopamine. (Okay, an average level of dopamine that non-ADHD people experience but still, that's more than what I usually have!)

Holy FUCK does it make a difference! I'm able to think clearly, I'm able to keep tasks at work straight, I'm able to remember to return my library books (which is an amazing feat seeing as how I work at the library). I've been drawing a ton, some of which I plan on uploading in the next little while. I've started non-fanfiction plot bunnies! I've worked on my fanfiction plot bunnies! I feel motivated to work on Warning: Battery Low again! I've actually managed to sit down and read a book - okay, part of a book.

1/3 of a book.

It's still an improvement.

ANYWAY thank you to those who have sent me well wishes, and to those who are still eagerly waiting for the next chapter of Warning: Battery Low - it's still gonna be a bit. Remember how Swatch just kinda burst in and threw off all my plotting? Yeah, still working on fixing that. The next chapter is going to be a bit Crimson-centric as I work on better establishing their past relationship in the mansion. Then there will be good stuff! Then a fire. Then bad stuff. Then past stuff will come into play and someone will get their ass kicked!

Then the phone will ring.

Don't want to wait that long for more of my writing? Check out my other story, House Arrest, on AO3. It's Addison-centric and ponders what would have happened if the Addisons were forced to take Spamton back after their estrangement...

Anyway, thank you for your support as always, lovelies! I'm going to work harder on being more active on Tumblr again, since I love this wild and crazy place so much. Feel free to send me any questions you may have, I'm happy to answer them! Even if it's about the medication, I don't mind talking about it.

(Also figured out last month I'm not ace/aro, I'm just a really, really introverted lesbian, so finding that out after 10 years of being super 'I'm Ace!' has been weirdly stressful but also kind of freeing...? My life is a mess...)

[seijorhi]

hello, i love your writing and was hoping if u could write a yandere kuroo x reader where he corners her in a corner and kenma is there and is getting off from it 😳 thank u !

Asdfghjkl this was supposed to be posted on Sunday I’m sorry, bby!! I hope it’s worth the wait! 💕 also, loved this request so thanks for sending it in 😊

Kuroo Tetsuro x Female Reader, Kenma Kozume x Female Reader

TW dub con, coercion (kinda?), stalking, humiliation

Helping Hand

There’s a certain peace you find in the looming stacks of the library after the sun sets. It’s quieter then, less people milling about. You don’t have to fight for space or books, and considering you have midterms soon and essays coming out of your ears, that makes it the perfect study environment.

It’s only a little after eight, the library’s still open for another two and a half hours, but on the fourth floor it’s almost a ghost town - just how you like it. There’s a professor tucked away in the back corner, piles of books built up around him, an older librarian with her trolley, slowly re-shelving books, and two other guys around your age sitting huddled at a table a few down from yours - the textbooks and highlights spread across their desk having been long since abandoned in favour of literally anything else.

Honestly, you’d wonder why they’d bother coming to the library at all if it wasn’t an almost daily occurrence. Most days you were there, so were they - usually together, although it wasn’t uncommon to see just one of them camped out between the stacks as you made your way to your desk. The duo, one tall and lean with a shock of messy dark hair that always looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, and the other smaller, more reserved, with bleached hair and dark roots in serious need of a touch up, seemed to prefer this time to study too - not that they ever seemed to actually do all that much studying.

Usually the blonde ends up absorbed in his switch while the other casually thumbs through whichever book is closest.

So long as they were quiet and didn’t disturb you, who were you to judge?

You don’t really remember when they’d started to appear, only that they’d quickly become a fixture in your refuge - distantly familiar presences like strangers travelling on the same bus to work each day. They smile (well, the dark haired one does) and nod whenever you happen to look up from your notes and catch their eye, and while you’ve only spoken a handful of words to the both of them, they always seemed nice. 

Nicer than the clearly overworked professor muttering away in the corner at any rate, which makes them the logical choice to approach when you find your bladder uncomfortably full halfway through your self imposed study session. Realistically, you know at this time of the night nobody else is likely to make their way up to the fourth floor, much less have any interest in your shitty, old laptop or the five whole dollars in your wallet - yet you find you making your way over to the twosome’s table anyway, a faint blush dusting across your cheeks.

“… don’t want to,” you overhear the blonde mutter, his attention wholly focused upon the game in his hands. “Things are fine, why change that?”

His friend sighs, “Because you can deny it all you want, but I know you better than that. I know I’m not the only one who wants more. You can’t just sit back and…” he trails off suddenly, hazel eyes flickering over to you in surprise. 

Confused by his friend’s sudden silence, the blonde lowers his game and glances up - only to still at the sight of you.

You swallow down your nerves, plastering what you hope is a friendly enough smile across your face, “Hi, uh… sorry to interrupt you guys, but would you mind watching my stuff for a few minutes while I go to the bathroom? I won’t be long or anything, I just don’t like leaving my stuff out in the open,” you say with a sheepish laugh, well aware that you’re rambling like an idiot. 

It’s the dark haired one who answers, a wide grin breaking across his face as he nods, “Yeah, no worries. We’d be glad to.”

You smile back, ignoring the faint fluttering in your stomach (he does look kind of cute grinning like that), thanking him again before rushing away in the direction of the bathroom.

It doesn’t take long for your thoughts to drift away from the duo back to the essay you’re mid-way through drafting. You have a sinking feeling that the argument you’re trying to use in the fourth paragraph is essentially a just rehash of the point you made in the first. By the time you unlock the stall door and make your way over to the sink to wash your hands, you’re starting to debate the merits of scrapping the whole thing and starting fresh with new ideas.

You still technically have time, it’s not due until the end of the month, but you just kind of want it done so you don’t have to think about it anymore. Then again, that’s kind of your feelings towards the semester as a whole. 

Who are you kidding? University’s kicking your ass this year.

The ancient hand dryer’s almost deafening as it clicks on - it masks the sound door swinging open and the footsteps that echo out from the tile floors.

It’s only when your eyes flicker up to mirror that you see that you’re no longer alone-

Standing right behind you is the guy from before; the tall, dark haired one. 

- and jerk in surprise, stumbling backwards with a choked yelp.

It doesn’t hit you right away - no, that’s relief that has you drawing a hand over your chest and letting out a shaking laugh. “You scared the hell out of me!” you say, bracing yourself over the sink to try and calm your breathing.

No, it doesn’t hit you quickly. Realisation is slow - creeping through your veins like ice as your eyes flicker back up the mirror. 

He hasn’t moved. 

He’s smiling, grinning really, but there’s something… something off about it. It doesn’t quite meet his eyes… Why isn’t he saying anything?

W-why isn’t he moving away?

Your heart, still hammering from his shock of his sudden appearance, squeezes uncomfortably and your eyes slowly widen.

“Wh-”

A rough, calloused palm slaps across your mouth, smothering whatever words you’d been about to speak. “Ah, ah. Gotta keep it down, sweetheart.”

He winks at you in the mirror, taking a tiny step towards you and you squeak, breathing in sharp, shallow pants through your nose as a warm, muscled chest presses against your back. “You’re a nervous little thing, aren’tcha?” he chuckles. “Relax a little - promise I don’t bite.”

With one hand wrapped around your lips the other creeping across your waist, his words don’t exactly bring you a lot of comfort. 

It makes no difference either way - you’re paralysed, shaking and trembling, but utterly unable to move as he noses at the column of your throat, his warm breath tickling your skin.

You could scream, but there’s no guarantee anybody would hear you. You could try and fight him off, but he’s taller than you, and you’re willing to bet stronger as well.

Will he hurt you if you try and resist?

Is he gonna hurt you anyway?

You’ve heard the stories before about men who follow women into empty bathrooms and the awful things they do, but you never...

Those things don’t happen in places like this. The library is supposed to be safe, he- he’s been-

Your stomach drops.

Weeks. 

He’s been visiting the library with his friend, sitting across from you for weeks.

His eyes bore into your reflection in the mirror like he can hear every terrified thought that passes through your head, and with excruciating slowness you’re forced to watch as his lips brush a kiss against your cheek, lingering and sweet - a mockery of tenderness. 

A scared little whimper is all you can manage, and even that is swallowed up by the sound of the bathroom door squeaking open once more. 

Your heart skips a beat, eyes widening.

A faint burst of hope flickers to life.

You might not be a fighter, but this might be the only chance you have. You shriek again, the sound woefully muffled, and writhe against your captor’s tightening grip as slow footsteps round the corner.

Please, you think as tears stream silently down your face. Please help me.

What little hope you have is quickly - brutally - extinguished as your would be saviour steps into view.

Your legs shake and you’re almost positive that if it wasn’t for the strong arms wrapped around you, you would have crumpled to the floor.

It’s his friend, the blonde, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, watching the scene before him - you struggling against an iron grip, gagged and terrified - like it’s nothing out of the ordinary. 

Your captor chuckles, relaxing his grip as his hand drifts upwards to palm at your breast and you want to die. “Glad you finally decided to grace us with your presence.”

“Shut up, Kuroo,” the blonde groans as he makes his way over, but he barely glances at his friend before his catlike eyes come to rest on you.

Your cheeks are burning, a potent mix of shame, nausea and dread churning in your stomach as you’re crudely felt up, but under the blonde’s attention you freeze.

While his face is a blank mask of apathetic disinterest, those golden irises are piercing in their intensity as they study you.

The glint in his eyes is as unmistakable as it is stark; anticipation - like a house cat watching a golden canary flit restlessly in its cage.

The hiccuping sob comes unbidden, choking at your throat as you wail against the palm at your lips. You’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your entire life, to slap yourself awake and realise that it’s nothing but a stress induced nightmare because this can’t be happening.

Why you?

What could you possibly have done to deserve this?

“Relax,” Kuroo repeats, leaning down over you again, “we’re not gonna hurt you. Just wanna have some fun, that’s all.” You think he’s going to try and kiss you again, but instead his tongue darts out and he licks at the silvery tear tracks, groaning softly.

You shoot the quiet blonde a desperate, pleading look. He hasn’t lifted a finger to stop what’s happening, hasn’t done anything other than stare at you, but even as his lips twitch into the faintest hint of a smile you hold out on the shadow of a prayer that maybe, just maybe-

Kuroo follows your wide, panicked gaze and almost snorts. “You’re barking up the wrong tree there, baby. Kenma’s not gonna help you. He wants this just as badly as I do.” His thumb slides across your cheek, brushing away more tears, “C’mon, on your knees.”

He doesn’t give you a choice - the hand on your shoulder forces your shaking knees to buckle and you fall down to the bathroom floor.

The tiles are cold against your bare legs, but the shivers that wrack through you have little to do with the temperature. It’s far too late to regret the short skirt you’d thrown on that morning.

Kuroo hums appreciatively, lifting his palm to tap it a few times against your cheek like you’re an adorable little puppy who’s just learned its first trick, “It’s a good look for you, baby, but I think it’d be even better without this-” his fingers tug at the collar of your top and his grin widens, “- in the way.” 

Yet he makes no move to take it off for you. One look into his eyes, the glittering amusement darkened with lewd desire and you know that he won’t.

He wants you to do it, to play along in their fun - to be an active participant in your own humiliation.

And really, what other choice do you have?

It’s impossible to ignore the bulge straining against his jeans as your trembling fingers grip the hem of your top and reluctantly yank it upwards. There’s a sharp inhale - Kuroo you think - and a whistle as it comes off, baring your lacy bra and the soft skin underneath to their hungry gazes. 

Only for a moment. 

Staring resolutely at the floor you’re quick to try and cover what little modesty you have left, bringing your arms up to wrap around your chest-

Except a hand catches at your wrist and tugs it back, and when you glance up you find it’s Kenma’s. 

“… Don’t,” he murmurs. “I want to see you.”

You let your arms drop, hands clenching into shaking fists in your lap, fingernails biting into your palm.

The sound of a zipper being pulled undone is almost deafening in the quiet bathroom. Fresh tears sting at your eyes, but you can’t bear to look at either of them as Kuroo reaches inside his pants and frees his cock.

The hand that cups your cheek is surprisingly gentle as he coaxes your face back towards him and the achingly hard member in his grip. “See Kenma, I told you - change ain’t always a bad thing.”

His dark eyes flicker back to you and he grins, “Open up, sweetheart.”

[promptprophet]

Welcome back

I am not dead, although I am ready to throw down. Okay so there is a lot under the cut, but by every star in the sky I have been gone from all of my blogs for a while due to some roccuring issues. If any follow my main at @prophet-rebellion then you may have noticed that.

Some pro-tips:

1. Do not attend a gathering with family that does not believe in Covid. Because if they are anything like mine, someone will tell them they tested positive, your Uncle will encourage them to come anyways and not tell a single other person - and then, surprise surprise, everyone ends up with Covid.

2. Do not let your advisor plan your schedule entirely. Even if they are the Dean of your department. Because if they are still like mine, they will give you six classes. Which would not be an issue of 18 credit hours if it were not for the fact that 5 or the 6 are writing enriched. The only one that it not is math-based which is not my strong suite anyways.

But, in other news - I took a toll for the worst at one point. It has since gotten better. Granted, I had to be the biggest pain-in-the-ass to the campus physiatrist because he wanted to revoke some of my medication. Just because I am somehow making all As for the moment does NOT mean that I do not need my ADHD medication.

Speaking of! Yours truly got formally diagnosed with combination ADHD, depression, and anxiety. And after a lot of trial and error, we have found a medication and dosage that actually helps with the latter two! ADHD is still a work in progress because he is fighting me on it. He also doesn’t want me taking my meds unless I have a face-to-face class that day - as if it is some 9-5 weekdays only issue and I do not have class outside of those times, or online ones. But! A work in progress!

Also, Covid gave me the perfect chance to drop an incredibly toxic group of people in my life. One one hand, my mental health is so much better for it, and so is my own sense of self worth. On the other, it is definitely hard to do and hard to adjust to suddenly losing so many people. But I have reconnected with my 14 year old sister for the first time in 5 years - she wants to have lunch. Which is nice considering I have no spoken to my sisters in 5 years for her, 6 years for the older one (the middle). And I am also trying to reach out to my brothers more. It is interesting, because I did not know them until later. I am the oldest out of 5, 2 half-sisters of my mom’s side, 2 half-brothers on my dads, ironically enough.

I am also seeking out a competent doctor even with Medicaid, because I know need two more surgeries. This will make surgeries 4 and 5. It should have been 2 at most. But 5? And that is minimum, not counting if anything goes wrong again. It is taking longer, because I refuse to see my prior surgeon, and the only opening this past winter break as when I had to have my wisdom teeth removed, so, that did not happen.

Given circumstance I have managed to find a place to stay during breaks. Which is great because as some of you may recall I was kicked out after I turned 18 in 2019, and the room I rented over that summer was terrible (maybe leaving a known alcoholic with no regard for privacy alone with a just then 18 year old girl is a bad idea - if the number of times he barged into my room unannounced to try and get me to drink with him was anything to go by), but it was so my parents could travel full-time. Which, they are doing now and I am happy for them because my mom has 10 years maximum if she is lucky before needing oxygen (Smokers Lung), and my dad is dealing with medical injuries he got while serving - they discharged him because they would never heal right.

I have also picked back up with my job on my college campus! So money! And have secured a much better paying job over break than my McDonalds job, meaning I am not so hard pressed for cash. Which is also great because the last week of summer I had to dish out $2500 for my truck after it broke down in Tennessee and we had to get towed back to North Carolina.

So! Down to business! Now that I know what was wrong with me, and I no longer have issues with suicide, I’m on medication, and last semester I had a therapist that was a major help to me. I am actually in a better spot to be here. It has certainly taken a lot of work, and 2020-21 has thrown just about everything that it seems to have been able and hell, I am still looking for a third job.

Speaking of, god damn, the commissions! Jesus H. Christ, I wanted those done by January! And it’s March! Although I have been making progress on them, that is absolutely true - I am working on them a bit oddly though, switching between which ones I do to try and stop burn out and also because I was not drawing while mentally at my lowest. So to anyone who commissioned me who may not be looking at those messages, but sees this, I am sorry, they are being worked on. And I understand this is a ridiculous amount of time to wait for them and thank you all for being so patient.

I have also been considering if it is a good choice for me to come back to this page, and yes, I think that it is. Having something that I do every day has proven to be very helpful, and the amount of joy and love I have for these pages and the followers on them is immense. I was trying to clear out storage on my phone and I have an album just of prompts or asks that you guys have sent that continue to make my day. It really does mean the world to me.

I cannot be too sure if many have noticed my absence, if Prompt Guy did either. But I am stopping it now. I am finally in a good place. And yeah, I have a lot to do still - if all goes according to plan then I graduate next year. So after this I only have two more semesters before I graduate with my Bachelors in Business, with a focus on Entrepreneurship at the age of 20. And I better because I cannot afford to be in college much longer. I want to be back here, and return to my regular postings and interactions. I am getting those commissions done no matter what - that is a constant guilt over my head. Trust me, I know that it is there. I know. But I joined as an admin because I had followed this page the day it was created. And then I saw it had gone dead with no posts, so I applied as an admin. I got it. And things went very well. Well, I intend to hold back to what I wanted when I was first on this page, bringing it back to consistent postings for everyone.

I am here. I am back. And I am staying.

Also, I apologize if there are any typos, I have been doing a lot or writing for homework and personal work (trying to stop burn out and the threat of school ending my love to write) and my eyes have been strained the last few days, so everything is a bit fuzzy. Speaking of fuzzy! Turns out I needed glasses! So I have glasses now!

Yours truly, Prompt Prophet

[sockablock]

(prev) + (start) + (next)

Chapter 12: The Petals on Her Brow

“No.”

“But—”

“No. Close your eyes.”

“This is boring! Do I really have to—”

“Yes.”

“But—"

“Yes. You do. I will not tell you twice.”

— — —

Back in the cabin, Team Regular People had set up camp in the living room.

Only about an hour had passed since breakfast, but in that time, they’d already managed to turn the couches into literary chaos. On the coffee table, stacks of atlases and maps had been supplemented—then supplanted—by the hundreds of pages of chemistry notes that Nott was supposed to be preparing for the summer semester. Jester similarly had strewn all her summer homework onto the carpet. Fjord was half-slouched in an armchair buried nose-deep in a tome titled The United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, looking for all the world like would rather throw himself into the ocean than keep reading.

And as those three languished in the rigors of academia, Caleb, Beau, and Caduceus were sitting at the kitchen table, hunting for Yasha’s mystery flower. So far, they had already eliminated almost everything growing in Eastern Europe, though Caleb had been convinced for a while that the flower was liverwort.

“Its name is ‘Leberblümchen’ in German,” he said. “We used to see it in our garden.”

Beau stared critically at the page, then turned to examine Yasha’s drawing. “Your thing isn’t pointy enough,” she said. “And it doesn’t have enough of those…stringy things in the middle.”

“Liverwort is usually blue, too,” Caduceus said. “Sorry, Mister Caleb.”

He sighed. “It is fine, perhaps we should move farther south.”

Beau pulled over another book and started flipping through the pages. “Do you miss being home?” she asked idly. “I know you haven’t been back there in a while.”

She mentally kicked herself when she noticed Caleb’s smile turn melancholy.

“Oh, fuck, I didn’t mean to remind you—”

He shook his head. “No, no, it is alright, Beauregard. I do miss it, of course. In many parts. Your beer in America is piss poor, for example.”

She immediately rolled her eyes. “Yeah, you say that all the time.”

“It’s a sticking point. Oh, and your trains are very bad—”

“Ugh, I know—”

“—and none of your restaurants know what eggs and soldiers is.”

“No one knows what the hell that is.”

“I don’t,” Caduceus piped up. “What is that?”

“It is a soft egg eaten with little strips of toast. It is the only way to eat toast,” Caleb said wistfully.

“It sounds like you haven’t been back in a while.” Caduceus dipped his head. “It must be difficult, being so far from your family like that.”

“Ah.” Caleb’s expression changed. It was subtle, but the softness in his eyes went still. “That is…I do not have family there, anymore.”

“Oh, I—Caleb, I’m sorry—”

He raised his hand. “It is alright, Caduceus. You did not know. It is not, ah….”

“He doesn’t go around advertising it,” Beau said.

“Well,” Caleb huffed, though not at all angrily, “that is certainly one way to put it. And…yes, to elaborate a little more, since the rest of these people already know, I…some time ago, something happened back home and I decided to leave. It…was not an easy choice, but inevitable, I think, in some ways. And while I do miss Germany, as I said, being here, with my friends, has helped me quite a lot. I am…I find that when I say ‘I’m okay,’ lately, I mean that more and more.”

“You should’ve seen him before,” Beau grinned. “He had such a stick shoved up his ass he could barely smile—though, uh, I guess that’s not surprising since—”

She shut her mouth. She opened it.

“I’m going to go back to staring at flowers now.”

Caleb snorted. He slid another book across the table. “Here, try this one,” he said. “Plants of Italy. If it is not in here, we switch to the Americas.”

She took it. “Thanks. Here’s hoping.”

“Let’s go for another thirty minutes,” Caduceus said. “Don’t forget, it’s important to stretch and take breaks.”

— — —

“Seriously, if you don’t let me, I’ll die.”

“You will not.”

“I will. I swear, I will. I have to take a break. Ten minutes. Five minutes! Sixty seconds, at least, or I drop dead.”

From her perch on the large grey boulder that lay at the edge of the woods behind the cabin, Yasha opened one eye and saw that Mollymauk was already lying down.

He’d rolled off his log and was even in the grass. She frowned. “You are not even trying.”

“I tried, but none of this makes any sense! Sit still and try to ‘feel myself’?” He made air quotes. “Yasha, dear, if that’s what you really wanted, I definitely would not be sitting still.”

He waggled his eyebrows. She ignored him.

“Controlling your energy instinctive,” she said instead. “It is tied to our ability to see and read auras. But because you do not know how to do either, I am doing my best to explain it to you. This is the only way I know how. You are really not taking this seriously.”

“You think I’m not taking this seriously?” He scoffed. “Do you really think I would put myself through any of this if I didn’t think I had to? Need I remind you that my family was attacked by those crazy bikers as well?”

“What? They are not your family,” she blinked. “We were your family. But you left us when you fell.”

He made a show of dramatic incredulity. “Then I also need to remind you, dear, that I haven’t the faintest idea what that means. I’ve got amnesia, remember? Accidental hellfire and devilish charms aside, I really am not a demon. Not culturally.”

She frowned. “Culturally?”

“And I’d really prefer not to dwell on it,” he continued. “As far as I’m concerned, as soon as I get this ‘aura’ nonsense under control, I’m going to go home and get back to living an extraordinary, charmed, non-demonic life.”

Her frown took on a confused note. “But…you are a demon. That is that.”

“No, no, you’re not getting it, Yasha.” He rolled over and looked her in the eye. “Listen to me. Whoever had this body before, maybe, maybe that person could’ve been a demon. But whoever that was, they weren’t me. They were just some stupid asshole who got buried in the earth for, for—I don’t know. Frankly, I don’t even care. Because it’s no concern of mine.”

“Er…buried?”

“Long story,” he shrugged. “Not important. What is important is that the person you see now, that person is me—Mollymauk Tealeaf. Fortune-teller, sword-spinner, lover of…well, lover. You aren’t going to get anywhere until you at least understand that. Alright?”

He rolled back over, crossed his arms on his chest.

“Besides, it seems as if—at least, from the context clues that I’ve pulled together myself—you’re missing a few memories too, aren’t you, Angel? Maybe you should try reinvention.”

Yasha was silent a moment. Eventually, “But I still know who I am. I did not lose that.”

“A pity.”

“It is…no, it is not a pity. It means I still have a purpose. And a past.”

Molly scoffed. “A past isn’t worth bragging about. The present, though, now the present is something.”

She titled her head. “Er…meaning?”

He waved a hand. “Well—well, okay, for example, can you honestly tell me that you aren’t enjoying what you have right now? In this cute little cabin? I still happen to be offended that you don’t think the carnival is my family, but you seem to have found one of your own, too. These people, here, and their delicious pancakes.”

“W—yes, the pancakes are good, but—"

“And those tiny little blueberries, delicious!” he sighed. “I haven’t had berries that sweet since…who knows?”

“You…like sweet things?” Yasha blinked. “Wait, go back, what was it that you said about family?”

“Oh, so you do care that you upset me?”

“I did?”

“Of course you did! My god, The Fletching and Moondrop might not’ve been the most functional of units, it might not’ve been the most traditional, but I certainly cared about them a lot. They found me when I had nothing, was no one. They gave me a home. They took care of me. They were my whole world, and trying to deny me that is basically like—it’s spitting in my face!”

Her gaze drifted downward. “I did not know. I am sorry.”

“Oh, cheer up, cheer up!” He scrambled upright. “You didn’t know, it’s alright, Yasha. God, have I just made an angel feel guilty? Isn’t it supposed to be your job to do that?”

Her brow furrowed. “I have been trying to do my job for two hours. I am supposed to teach you. You do not listen.”

“Because that’s boring. Sitting still is no fun.”

“I explained it already, Mollymauk. You are not just sitting still, you are centering yourself to connect with the world’s energy, then turning it inward—”

“Oh, I know! Why don’t I teach you, instead?”

She stopped. Her brow furrowed. “You…what?”

“Let me teach you something!” He clapped his hands together, eyes shining with glee. “Come on, come on, what do you say? It can be anything you like! Tarot reading!”

“No, what—”

“Alright, alright, it’s not for everyone, okay…how about sword spinning?”

She frowned. “Why would you do that?”

He rolled his eyes. “Why not? It’s flashy, exciting, and you can show off your skills! What, think won’t don’t have the dexterity for it?”

Something in Yasha bristled. “I am good with swords.”

“Then prove it! I’ll go back into the house right now and fetch the glass ones, then—"

The fog cleared; she caught on. “Wait, wait. If you go in, I am sure that you will not come back out.”

He laughed, completely unashamed. “Fine, fine, how about…oh! Why don’t I teach you to make flower crowns?”

She immediately opened her mouth in protest, but for some reason, somewhere along the line, the response that came out was a semi-choked, “Huh?”

“Flower crowns!” He grinned again, sensing weakness. “Come on, it’s great if you like flowers. Don’t tell me you don’t have those in Heaven.”

“I…it is called Elys—of course we have flowers.”

“Perfect! Do you have a favorite kind?” He leaned forward. “C’mon, I promise it’ll be quick, and then I’ll absolutely pay attention to the energy stuff. Just ten minutes! Only ten.”

She wanted to argue again. She knew she had to, it was her duty, her responsibility to tell him no way, to pick him up and throw him over her shoulder and sit him up straight and threaten him until he listened…

But what she said was:

“…fine. Ten minutes, and then we start again.”

“Yes!”

— — —

“Do you think he’d look good with pink instead?” Jester let a strand of Caleb’s hair fall from her hand and back onto his shoulders. “Caduceus could probably help, too. Couldn’t you, Caddy?”

“Sure I could.”

“I don’t know,” Nott rubbed her chin. “I mean, pink, don’t get me wrong, it’s a great color—”

“Thank you.”

“—but close to the original. If we’re going to do a dye job, it should be wild.”

Caleb counted to ten. “The ‘if’ in your statement should sound more hypothetical,” he said.

“Well, it’s only if you want it, Caleb. But you know, you’d look really cool with dyed hair!” Jester gushed. “How about a streak? Like Fjord? To be stylish?”

“I’m glad you think I’m stylish,” Fjord called from his armchair, Conventions now draped across his face. “But you know I didn’t do this on purpose.”

“Right, right—”

“What, really?” Nott glanced at him. “What happened? Don’t tell me it was a prank someone pulled.”

“Why?” he grunted. “Upset you didn’t do it first?”

“Yes! Of course I am!”

He sighed, and tugged the book off his face. He ran a hand through his short black hair and found the shock of white streaking through it.

“I got it in the accident. With the shipping company, remember? That whole thing with the engine malfunction. Big storm, boat went down, but, uh, I got rescued.”

“Yeah,” said Nott, immediately relenting. “I…remember. You nearly drowned.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged. “I noticed this grey streak after leaving the hospital. So…either a nurse used some real strong hair dye, or…I dunno, maybe it was from the stress?”

Jester very quickly reached over and squeezed his hand.

He gave a tiny smile. “It’s alright, it’s been a while since it happened. And you know, thanks to all the bad press they got after, they had to do something for me. So…it balanced out.”

“They sent you to college,” said Caduceus, remembering. “The scholarship?”

“Yeah. And an offer to work for them again after I graduate.”

“Hell no!” screeched Nott. “Are you kidding me? After everything that happened, do they really expect you to work for them again? Or even to go out on the water?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged, “I really liked sailing, I…I miss it sometimes, actually. But I probably shouldn’t go back to them, that’s true.”

“What was the name of the company?” she demanded. “I’m going to leave them terrible reviews.”

“I don’t think you can do that for corporations.”

“Just give me a name, Fjord, it’ll make me feel better, if not you.”

He sighed and put his book back on his head. “U.K. Toa Shipping Industries. Have fun.”

“U.K.?” Caleb gently tugged himself free. “It is British?”

Fjord was quiet for a moment. “Huh,” he said. “You know, I don’t actually know. I always assumed so, but I guess I never asked.”

“That’s it,” Caduceus suddenly said.

They all turned.

“That’s what, Caddy?” Jester said.

“Fjord’s accent,” he grinned. He sounded incredibly satisfied. “You’re British now, aren’t you? I knew there was something different.”

A pause. Then:

“Oh my god, I completely forgot—”

“Nott—”

“That’s right! You did do that, Fjord—”

“Jester, I’m begging—”

“You told me you were Texan,” Caduceus nodded. “You talked all…twangy, before. In freshman year.”

“He did, didn’t he?” Nott all but beamed.

“I want to die,” Fjord moaned. “I want to die, it was—it wasn’t a phase, but…oh god…” He sunk down even lower in his chair.

“It’s a sweet reason,” Jester said supportively. “Real sweet.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! Fjord, can I tell him?” she asked.

He vaguely waved his hand and Jester removed his book to tap him on the nose.

“Well, you see, Fjord did it partially ‘cause he was going to America and he didn’t want to stick out as the British kid. But he also did it because he wanted to remember his old captain. Vandren.”

“He was Texan,” Fjord mumbled. “And it wasn’t just, you know, remembering by itself, it was also…I dunno, I wanted to emulate him. He was…he had this way of commanding a room that just…you know.” He shifted awkwardly. “I…I wasn’t the…most confident person, before. When I was younger, especially. But putting on a mask, pretending to be Vandren, it…helped. Especially since nobody knew me here.”

Caduceus hummed his understanding, and nodded.

“What changed?”

Fjord’s cheeks colored. “Well…you know. After a while, I realized it was…pretending to be Vandren was preventing anyone from knowing me. The mask was comfortable, but it wasn’t…true.”

Caduceus smiled. “Jester was right. That is very sweet. I’m happy for you. And this accent isn’t bad.”

Fjord chuckled. “Thank you,” he tipped his book like a hat. “That is—thank you kindly, partner.”

“It’s tragic that you decided to be genuine,” Nott sighed, leaning back into a cushion. “Your southern accent was way hotter—”

“I got it!”

This outburst came from Beau, who had ended her break early to resume the search. Fjord all but threw himself out of the living room in pursuit of this new distraction.

“What?” he asked, sliding into the kitchen. “Is it a match?”

“Fuck yeah it is, look! Everyone, look!”

The rest trailed in behind him and gathered around Beau, who was practically vibrating.

“Trientalis borealis! The starflower!” she yelled. “Here it is—” she slapped Yasha’s drawing onto a page displaying a faded photo. “It’s a perfect match, seven pointed petals, a lot of yellow stringy stuff in the middle. And it’s tiny. Half an inch wide.”

“The starflower is one of the more common spring wildflowers native to eastern North America,” Caleb read, sitting down in the chair next to her. “The species name borealis refers to being from the north, although this plant is also distributed in the Midwest and the higher elevations of the southern Appalachian Mountains. Depending on latitude and altitude, starflowers generally bloom from mid to late spring into early summer.”

He leaned back, and gave Beau an amazed look. “You are right, this photo is exactly the same. You…you did it, Beauregard, that is…incredible.”

She punched the air. “Now who’s the king of nerds?! Wait, gross…”

— — —

“—little longer, you just need a second color. Something, hm…maybe blue. Or yellow. Preference?”

“P—what? Oh, uh…either is fine.”

Yasha and Molly had drifted away from their makeshift stools and into the forest, coming through the grass for summer blooms. Molly was flitting from flowerbed to flowerbed, plucking up stems and laughing when bumblebees had to spiral out of his way. Yasha had taken to sitting below a tree trunk, moving as little as angelically possible, so as to not disturb her crown.

Molly had placed it atop her head, and she could feel the petals on her brow. They were purple wildflowers. They were soft.

Yasha was always surprised by just how soft flowers could get—after all, they had to live outside all the time and there was so much danger, so much weather, it was a miracle they could grow at all. Still, it made her nervous to touch flowers; she was worried that her big, calloused hands would break them, maybe damage or ruin them somehow—

“Don’t be silly, love. You could never do such a thing.”

Yasha flinched, startled. “What?”

“Er…I just asked if you liked these,” Molly frowned. He’d flopped back down beside her and was showing off a hand of pudgy yellow blossoms. “Are you alright, dear?”

“Oh, er…yes. I am fine.” She blinked, and that whispered voice was gone. A second later, she wasn’t sure if it’d been there at all.

“In that case, look, look, what do you think?” He held the flowers up to the sun. “Nice, right?”

Yasha felt her face soften. A tiny smile crept into the corners of her mou—

“Hey, where’d they go? Yasha? Mollymauk? Where are you guys?!”

“I think I see them, through there—"

“Uh-oh.” Molly turned to Yasha and grinned. “I think we’ve been made.”

She groaned, and shut her eyes.

— — —

“—you understand how important this is?! We told you what the stakes were, I can’t believe you were picking flowers!”

“Hey! Why does everyone think I don’t understand anything? And anyway, Yasha was with me the whole time—”

“Oh, right, pin it on her, you asshole—”

“Fuck you, I’m not pinning anything on anyone—”

“Hey, hey, okay, calm down,” Fjord stepped between them and raised his hands. “Whoa, déjà-vu. Anyway, let’s just relax. Please?”

“She’s accusing me for no reason,” Molly said, hackles lowered but still with a bite.

“And he’s slacking off,” Beau glared.

“Yasha did say they agreed to take the break together,” Fjord reminded her. “And it’s the first day. It’ll take time to perfect the, uh, formula, right, Yasha?”

The three of them turned to look at Yasha, who was standing back with the rest of their friends, wearing an expression of absolute discomfort.

“Er…er…yes, right,” she said clumsily. “We just got…carried away.” She gave Beau a nervous nod. “Sorry.”

This was enough to soothe Beau’s foul mood. She sighed. “I don’t blame you, Yasha, I blame that one.” She jabbed a halfhearted thumb at Molly.

“Hey!”

“Just let her have this,” Fjord said.

“It’s not your fault,” Beau continued, ignoring them. “And—ugh, I hate being the bigger person—I get it. It’ll take time. You need breaks. I’m…sorry I freaked out.”

“Thank—” Molly began.

“Not you.”

“Well, It was worth a try.”

Yasha seemed more than relieved by Beau’s words. “You do not need to be sorry either, but thank you. And I will be more, ah, better next time.”

“Next time,” Molly grumbled. “Well, as long as she isn’t there, next time.”

“That is right,” Yasha tilted her head. “Beauregard, why did you come outside?”

From the back, Jester grinned. “Oh, Yasha, it’s so exciting!”

“That’s right!” Beau’s face lit up immediately, her annoyance at Molly all but melting away. “Guess what?”

“Er…what?”

She whipped out a book, small and bound with a soft green cover.

“I found it. Your flower.”

Yasha’s eyes widened. “You—what? You did? Where is it? What is it called?”

Her grin widened as she turned the pages. “It’s the Trientalis borealis, let me show you the picture—"

“Tren…” Yasha frowned in concentration. “The…three-foot…no, one-third—”

Beau actually laughed, then flipped the book around, pointing to a small picture beneath text. “Its common name’s ‘starflower.’ Sound familiar?”

“Star…flower.” Yasha hesitated. “That sounds…I’m not sure…”

“It would be ‘ʢƾʯɬƺƛᵿɿʑʖɕʚɬ,’ I think—” Caduceus said.

“Yeah?” Beau asked hopefully.

Yasha nodded. Her frown had vanished, and now she was staring at the book, nearly frozen, glued to the image of a little white flower. “…starflower,” she murmured. “ʢƾʯɬƺƛᵿɿʑʖɕʚɬ. You found it.”

“Hell, yes!” cheered Nott from between the others.

Yasha managed to tear her gaze away and this time, it fell on Beauregard.

“Thank you,” she breathed. “You…found it. Thank you.”

Beau’s cheeks flushed. She forced herself to stay still. “Oh, well, you know, it was…it…nothing.”

She did not resist as Yasha took the book, moving it closer to get a better look. “No, it is everything,” she said. “You did it.”

“Well—fuck, I mean, you know,” she scratched her neck and looked down, “I told you I would.”

“And you did. Thank you.”

“Now that she has found the flower,” Caleb cut in, both to Beau’s relief and disappointment, “we can start narrowing down a region. In fact, we already know from this book that the starflower is endemic to the United States.”

Yasha patiently waited for him to elaborate.

“That is, it grows near us. It is common on the east and west coasts, and is usually found in the early summer.”

He stepped forward, and with Yasha’s permission, flipped the page and showed her a map. Much of the US and Canada were blue.

She traced this with a finger. “Wait, then…does that mean I might have been in Iothia this whole time? Or right next to it?”

“That remains to be seen. It depends on how big Iothia is,” Caleb said. “And of course, again, exactly where it is. But we can use this map, and the geographical features we know, to compile a list of locations that would give you the most likely areas of Iothia.”

He gave Yasha a satisfied nod. “You are well on your way to going home, Engel.”

Her gaze fell back to the book. She turned the page to look at the flower.

Its name is ‘starflower.’ Isn’t that funny?

“Wha—why is that funny?” she said out loud.

“Hm?” Caleb cocked his head. “Why is what funny?”

She frowned. “The…name of the flower, I think. Or the…stars?”

“Actually, I was thinking that too,” Nott said. “Since, you know, you fell from the sky, right? And I guess these little flowers did too!”

Beau groaned. “So, this whole time, we were looking for a pun?”

“I think that’s irony, actually—” Fjord began.

Yasha blinked.

—and that whispered voice was gone…

When she looked up again, everyone was staring at her.

“Are you okay?” Jester asked. “You…is everything alright?”

—a second later, she wasn’t sure if it’d been there at all—

She shook her head, then realized that looked like a negative and managed to produce a weird, swooping nod.

“I am very happy,” she said quickly. “I am just…it is just a lot to take in. The flower. This…memory, it was…something important.”

Caduceus smiled. “Then it gets to be important again. This time, it’ll help you find your way home.”

Seven little petals. Bright like a star. Tiny enough to fit in someone’s hand.

She passed the open book back to Beau. She noticed Beau’s hand brush the flower.

“I…you are right,” she said, half to herself. “I think it will.”

“We all will,” Beau grinned.

—

✨ Ko-Fi Link in Bio! ✨ | Requests are OPEN!

[random-mha-thoughts]

Skater Boy (Kirishima x Reader)

Pairing: Kirishima x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: College!AU; You’re going to get pizza and you run into a group of skaters from your university

Word count: 2,640

Tags:  @yuki-osaki​ @liviitehe​ @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog​ @bunnythepipsqueak​

a/n: I was talking to my cousin one day and the thought just suddenly hit me, What if the Bakusquad were skateboarders?  And so this idea was born!  Not the best but I think it’s cute, and he deserves fluff after I just wrote angst for him.

"I think I might actually fail that class," I deflate, hunched over.  "I study until I'm blue in the face and I still do bad on the exams.  And he doesn't even curve the grades!"

Tzuyu raises an eyebrow at me.  "(Y/n), you have a B in that class, why are you so worried?"

"Because I want an A!" I burst out as we walk up the parking lot of the pizza shop.  "It's still only the middle of the semester, I need a good enough cushion just in case I slip up on the last few exams.  I can't get another C!"

My dark haired friend grabs my shoulders and looks me in the eye.  "You're freaking out for nothing, just chill.  Do something fun for a change."

I sigh exasperatedly.  "I don't have time for fun.  I need enough time to study and do my homework, and I need time to procrastinate because of how stressed I am."  She doesn't understand since she's not a science major, she's a lucky Communications major.

She rolls her eyes.  "If you keep going like this, you'll start having premature grays hairs.  And you'll look older than you already do."

I shove her playfully.  "Are you saying I look older than my age?"

"Yup.  And it doesn't help that you have resting bitch face either."

I jump in front of her to jokingly insult her too.  "You're-"

"Incoming!"

Stepping backwards, the ground underneath my foot is slightly higher and shaky, making my leg jerk to the side instinctively and I land square on my ass, almost knocking into the shop's glass doors.  My head follows the sound of wheels rolling to see a skateboard gliding away from us.

"Hey, stupid."  A shadow casts over me and I meet the eyes of a pretty annoyed ash-blond boy, his hands in his forest green cargo pants pockets.  He looks down his nose at me with a grimace.  "That was my board you tripped on."

I blink, not knowing what he expects me to say.  "Um.  Sorry?"

Tzuyu helps me off the floor.  "Why would you let it roll away if you didn't want anyone touching it?"

He grabs it from the small distance it traveled, kicking the edge and gripping it by the metal between the wheels.  His board is almost all black with a giant white skull in the middle surrounded by orange and yellow flames.  "We warned you, not our fault you stepped on it like an amateur."

My gaze flicks briefly to the group of other people hanging around the side of the building before returning back to him.  "All you said was 'Incoming,' how were we supposed to know what to watch out for?"

The boy rolls his eyes and swaggers up to me.  Being almost an entire head taller, he slouches over me.  "You should've know to just freeze up," he growls.

The combination of his height towering over me and his murderous crimson eyes makes me gulp, but stand my ground.  I cross my arms over my chest.  "M-Maybe if you weren't so bad at skateboarding, you wouldn't have messed up for it to roll away from you."

The boy growls and bares his teeth at me.  "You wanna say that again?!"

"Okay, calm down, dude, it was just an accident."  A red-headed friend of the boy runs up and pushes him away when I flinch into Tzuyu's arms behind me.  "You don't have to pick a fight with everyone you meet, just chill."

The porcupine-haired boy grumbles under his breath and walks back to the rest of his group.

I turn to the saintly friend.  "Thank you-"

As soon as he turns around, the words get jumbled in my throat.  The front of his hair is so cutely tucked over his face under his black beanie.  His features give off a boyish charm with sharp features like his eyes and his jawline.  His beaming smile puts blindingly white sharp teeth on display as his eyes crinkle up.  "Sorry about him, he's a bit of a hothead."

"It's okay!" I say quickly, waving my hands in front of me and looking down.  My eyes meet with his board, the pattern a scarlet matching his hair color with black lettering outlining the initials RR.  "You have a pretty cool board.  Matches your hair."  It's a dumb compliment and I know it is, I'm just trying to make conversation.

He picks it up by the sides and admires it himself.  "You like it?  Painted it myself!  I bought the wheels, but I sprayed the trucks black because I thought it looked cooler."

"Seems like a personification of you."  You sound so lame and boring, why would you say that?

"It's new, I'm trying to get it scratched up and everything."  He holds it with one hand at his side and holds his hand out to me, flashing another brilliant smile.  "I'm Eijirou Kirishima by the way!"

Tzuyu and I introduce ourselves.  "Do you go to the university here?" my friend asks.

"Yeah, we all do," he motions to the rest of them.  "We just like to come out and chill every once in a while, usually we're at the park though."

I know which one he's talking about.  About a block away, opposite the direction of our university, is a skate park that I've seen whenever we pass by here to get food.

Tzuyu clears her throat and nudges me from behind and I shoot her a look to stop.

"Yo, Kiri!  We're goin' back to the park, you comin'?"  One of the boys with bright blond hair and a black hoodie calls out.

Kirishima's head flits back and forth between us and his friends.  "I'll meet up with you guys later!" he answers before turning his attention back to us.  "I can treat you guys to lunch since Bakugou was being an ass if you want?"

My eyes widen.  "You don't have-"

"Sure, why not?" Tzu talks over me and grabs my arm.  "Let's go grab a table!"

I will kill everything you love.

.

Tzuyu does most of the talking while I eat my pizza like a silent bunny.  We find out he's an Exercise Science major with an average GPA.  The most surprising thin is that his loudmouth friend who almost jumped us is a pretty bright student.

"You really can't tell, he's such a hothead," Tzu comments.

"Yeah, he's been trying to work on it," Kirishima laughs and rubs the back of his head.  "But he's a really smart guy, I usually ask him to explain stuff I don't understand."

I stare at the board he's laid down on the seat next to him.  We're spread out inside a semicircle booth near the window, so it's right next to me.  I stealthily reach out to spin one of the white and red wheels.  Some part of me feels like a child because I get easily amused by these things.

"You must really like my board."

My heart lurches when I realize I've been caught, my face turning red when I meet his beaming face.  "I'm sorry for touching it."  I scoot away from it a little bit.

"No need to apologize, I don't mind."  He pushes it towards me and leans his arms on the back of the cushioned seats.  "Do you skate?"

I fiddle with the wheels again.  "I have a board, actually, but I can't really skate."  It's at my house, under my bed where I can't see it.

"That's cool, do you have a picture?" his scarlet eyes light up in excitement."

"No, I don't."  I deleted it.  "I, uh, dated someone who bought it for me and was supposed to teach me how to skate."

"And you broke up?" Kirishima finishes, his expression neutralized to a blank slate.

Damnit, look what you did, you've made everyone uncomfortable now.  I take a last bite of my pizza, leaving the crust.  Usually Tzuyu eats it for me.

Kirishima eyes it and his face turns a bit red, darting away from me.  "Would it be weird to ask if I can eat your crust?"

I feel my own face get hot at his suggestion.  Tzuyu coughs to hide her giggle and nods slightly.  "Sure, go ahead," I manage to get out shakily.

He doesn't even hesitate to grab it once he has permission, happily chewing at it.  Tzuyu bites her lip to keep herself at my obviously red face.  Don't think about it, that's so childish, I chant to myself.

He licks his lips when he's finished.  "So, (Y/n), do you still wanna learn?"

My entire body erupts in a strange combination of warmth and cold.  I never really thought about skating after I broke up with the previous guy.  It's just been sitting under my bed because  I unconsciously can't bring myself to remind myself of anything about him.  It wouldn't be a bad idea, but I also don't really want to embarrass myself in front of another cute guy.

Noticing my hesitation, Kirishima offers a warm smile.  "You don't have to worry about falling in front of me!  I couldn't stay on the board at first either!"

I can't imagine it, but something about his affable, trusting demeanor draws me to him.  "I guess it wouldn't hurt to try."

"Awesome!"  His entire face lights up and his eyes crinkle up again.

"You guys can go ahead, I'm going back to the dorms to study," Tzuyu gets up to throw her plate away.  When Kirishima isn't looking, she wiggles her eyebrows and mouths, "Have fun."

"That's too bad.  It was nice meeting you!"

I shake my head quickly at her, but she just sticks her tongue out at me and leaves.

The redhead grabs his board and stands up.  "Shall we?"

Lord, I'm gonna die today.

.

Kirishima had already got me to feel out my balance standing on the grass and was now planing on moving me to the concrete.  Cue all my fears of falling off and busting my head open.

"Do you know which stance you're more comfortable standing with?" he asks, placing the board in front of me near a pole in the parking lot.

"I think so?"  I'm not familiar with it, but I can switch it up later.

"Alright, hold onto the pole and step up.  I'll stand in front of you just in case you fall forward, just be careful falling backwards."  He's been extra patient with me this whole time, it's endearing.

"Can you clone yourself so you can be in both places?" I ask feebly, clasping my hands in front of me, staring at the little board.

He chuckles, "I wish I could.  You'll do fine, I'll try to catch you either way."

I take a breath, holding onto the pole and placing my foot on the board.  I don't want to look like a coward in front of Kirishima, so I grasp the metal tightly and plant my other foot, wobbling a little in place and whining.

"You're doing good!  Are you cool so far?"  He moves to stand on the side where my body faces forward.

"I think so?"  My blood pumps with adrenaline and all I want to do is leap off and go back to the dorms.  Damnit Tzu, why did you leave me here?

"Okay, whenever you're ready, just push off and roll!"

My front fist clenches in front of me, every instinct telling me not to let go of the pole.  "You'll catch me, right?" I confirm, my legs shaking in anticipation.

"Yup!"  He holds his hands out, palms up and ready.  "Ready when you are!"

Don't be a coward, just do it.  I push off weakly and start rolling only slightly faster than a snail's pace before I shake and spasm, putting a hand on Kirishima's arm instinctively.  "Shit, sorry-" I take my hand off only to windmill my arms and lean backward.

He grabs both of my hands.  "Lean on me, it's okay."

His warm smile and gentle voice makes me feel stupid for being an imbalanced fool.  "I'm sorry, I'm such a klutz, I'm really bad at this," I burst out quickly.

"You're fine, take your time."  The warmth from his hands flusters me even more and I want to let go, but if I do I'll fall over.  "Do you want me to push you so you can try again?  Is it okay?"  I nod, my body still shaking.  I shift to balance with one of his hands as he frees the other.  "I'm gonna let go after I push you, plant yourself."

He pushes at the small of my back gingerly, sending me rolling a little faster than before.  Despite being wobbly, somehow I manage to keep my balance for a few more seconds, the board wavering back and forth under my feet.

"You've got it, good job!" Kirishima praises, keeping a brisk walking pace to keep up.

The board slows to a crawl and I waver, stopping when I grab his arm again and letting out a breath I didn't know I was holding.  "That's not too bad I guess," I exhale.

He chuckles.  "Do you wanna try riding towards me alone this time?"

Please no.  "Okay," I squeak out.

Kirishima stands a good 10 meters away from me.  Starting from the pole, I push off towards him and balance myself across.  When I approach him, he raises his hands up for me to hold onto and walks backwards to match my speed.  "Just step off now."

As soon as I take my back foot off, the front tips forward into the ground.  The mini sensation of falling makes me yelp and lean into him reflexively.

A snicker leaves his lips.  "Not really a successful stop, but at least you did it."

I look up, about to say something snarky, but I realize how close we are to each other.  His eyes bore into mine, and I notice he has a small vertical scar on his right eye.  I'm about to reel back for staring before he grips my hands tighter and brings them down to get closer.  My heart thumps in my ears, body still shaking with adrenaline.

"You know, it won't take just a single day to skate well, you need to practice at it."  His eyes relax into a half-lidded state, one side of his lips lazily turned up slightly.

"Yeah..." I want to curse myself for such a dumb response.  The smell of his wooded cologne wafts from his hoodie.

He bites his lip and glances down at mine briefly and his voice drops an octave.  "Would you like it if we kept this up?  Maybe tomorrow?"

Without thinking, I nod slowly.

"Maybe we can grab something to eat together?" he tips his head, "Like a...date?"

My face flushes.  Oh, this is happening.  I nod again, not trusting my voice to do anything but scream.

A low chuckle resounds from him throat and he quickly brushes a finger to my cheek.  "You're cute.  I'm glad you wanna see me again too."

My chest throbs at the compliment, eyes dropping to the ground.

Another melodious laugh and he lets go of me, grabbing his board that rolled a few feet away.  "Come on, I'll walk you back to your dorm."

I hang back, dazed after what just happened.  The adrenaline is slowly emptying out of my system and my heart is trying to normalize, but replaying how close we were a few moments ago kicks everything back into gear.

"You coming?" he calls from behind.  Seeing my disorientation, he smiles teasingly.  "Have you lost your balance to walk too?  Here," he clasps his free hand with mine gently, "I'll help you."

A new tremor of warmth flows through me.  Oh.

[junghelioseok]

pronoia.

↳ you can definitively say that you did not sign up for this.

◇ namjoon x reader ◇ zombie apocalypse!au | college!au ◇ 15k [1/1]

notes: a very late birthday present for @imaginationofacrazyfangirl, who i kind of like for some reason. 

⇢ pronoia (n): a state of mind that is the opposite of paranoia. a suspicion that the universe is conspiring in your favor.

warnings: some violence obviously. some gore. mostly just me trying to be funny. irreverent humor, zombieland jokes, and a couple bad philosophy references bc idk what i’m talking about. exactly one (1) brooklyn 99 joke. yoongi is lowkey a badass bc u cannot convince me his crafty, conniving ass wouldn’t be good in this kind of situation. jk’s ready to risk it all for a twinkie. tbh this is kind of a mess and the ending might be rushed but i still worked really hard on it so please leave feedback sndfjfkjsksds 🙈

It’s too quiet.

Fluorescent lights flicker overhead, the dull hum fading into the background as water starts dripping somewhere to your left. Your heartbeat quickens, thudding erratically against your ribcage as you suck in a deep breath and tighten your grip on your baseball bat.

It’s hard to believe that just three days ago, you were a regular college student. Three days ago, your biggest concerns were finding a decently paid summer job and getting through your last philosophy lecture without daydreaming about the cute teaching assistant bending you over his desk. But now, sandwiched between two rows in the back of your university’s biggest auditorium, you have several new concerns. Bigger concerns.

And first and foremost among them, are the zombies.

To be honest, you still aren’t entirely sure how it happened. The last emergency alert had killed your phone’s battery for good, and you’d only just managed to catch a glimpse of the words “mutated virus” and “nationwide epidemic” before the screen faded to black. And a good thing too—the undead guy trying to sneak up on you from behind definitely would have gotten you had you not seen his reflection in your now-useless hunk of metal and glass.

Thank god for the softball unit in high school gym class, you think to yourself, trying in vain to wipe the blood and brain matter off of your bat. Sure, you didn’t think you’d be utilizing those skills to kill zombies, but at this new low point in your life, anything that aids your survival is a home run in your book.

Deeming your weapon sufficiently clean, you tuck it back into a makeshift sling you’d fashioned out of an old scarf, adjusting it so that it lays flat against your spine. With both hands now free, you begin inching toward the back exit. There’s a growing ache in your bladder that you can no longer ignore, and you send a quick prayer up to any gods that may exist before cracking the auditorium door open, glancing left and right down the seemingly empty hallway. Silently, you count to ten.

After a few more moments of deliberation, you decide the coast is clear. The restrooms are at the very end of the hall, and you can’t help but feel like the little gendered stick figures are taunting you as you cautiously make your way toward them, your shoes silent against the linoleum floor.

You are approximately fifteen feet away from your destination when you hear footsteps. Your heart kicks into overdrive at the unsteady rhythm—a short tap followed by a long dragging sound, as if the approaching individual were limping. For a moment, you debate running for the nearest bathroom and barricading yourself inside, but enclosed spaces are a bad idea according to every zombie movie you’ve ever seen, and you aren’t particularly keen on the idea of becoming zombie food.

Instead, you steel yourself and turn around, pulling out your bat. The approaching zombie doesn’t look like a student—in fact, you’re pretty sure he was your trigonometry teacher for a semester during freshman year—but that’s hardly important right now.

What is important, however, is the black-and-white figure that’s just rounded the corner behind the limping math professor-turned-zombie. And it’s running toward you—fast. Far faster than any of the undead beings you’ve seen, and, upon closer inspection, faster than most of the human beings you know.

And that can only mean one thing.

“Jungkook!” you exclaim, half in surprise and half in horror as the dark-haired track star pulls even with your former professor and swings at his head, using all of his momentum and landing a solid crack. The zombie crumples to the linoleum floor, blood and viscera seeping from the crack in his skull, and you frown in distaste before looking up at your classmate. “Uh, hi?”

“{Name}?” Jungkook asks in disbelief, skidding to a stop. He’s wearing a single boxing glove on one hand and wielding a smashed wine bottle in the other, and you almost want to laugh at his appearance. After all, you’re about ninety-nine percent sure he was wearing the exact same thing at the last house party you both attended. But now—with a bloodied zombie still twitching at your feet and the imminent threat of even more coming after you—probably isn’t the best time to bring that up.

“It is you,” Jungkook says in disbelief, his eyes widening. “Are you alone?”

You nod. “Yeah. You?”

Jungkook nods back. “Yeah. You’re the first person I’ve come across who hasn’t—well… you know.” He gestures downward vaguely.

“Yeah. I know.”

For a few seconds, the two of you stand in silence, ruminating on how everything managed to change so quickly. Just last week, you and Jungkook were regular college students. He ran track and and co-captained the campus dance crew, and if it weren’t for the fact that you were lab partners, you aren’t sure you ever would have met. But after months of sitting together in class, equally stumped by the biology textbooks you were forced to buy and elbow-deep in formaldehyde far too often for your liking, you’ve grown to consider him a friend. And right now, you really, really needed a friend.

“Jungkook,” you begin, laying an arm on his shoulder, “I need your help.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” he says, shaking his shaggy hair out of his face like a dog and glancing around the hallway. “We should team up. I mean, we’ve been lab partners for months so we already know we work great togethe—“

“We’ve failed almost half of our lab reports, and you nearly set the table on fire last Tuesday,” you cut in. “But that’s not the point. The point is the current state of my bladder and how you can help me with it.”

Jungkook blinks. “Uh.”

“I need to pee,” you clarify.

“And what exactly do you want me to do about that?”

“Come with me,” you reply, grabbing his wrist. Jungkook lets out a protesting grunt when you begin pulling him down the hallway toward the restrooms, struggling even more vigorously when you try to make him follow you inside.

“This is the girl’s bathroom!” he gasps, wrenching out of your grasp.

You stare at him. “The entire city is overrun by zombies and that’s what you’re worried about?”

“It’s weird!” he protests. Nevertheless, he trots in on your heels, peering around curiously as you bang on the wall of the nearest stall in an attempt to draw any lurkers out into the open.

“Check for zombies, idiot,” you instruct when Jungkook gets distracted by his own reflection in the mirror. “I don’t wanna get eaten.”

He huffs but complies nonetheless. Raising his broken wine bottle, he glances into each stall, kicking open the doors with unnecessary force. “Clear,” he reports once he’s checked the last one, offering you a mock salute. The effect is ruined by the bright red boxing glove still on his hand, but you bite back the snide remark on your tongue and instead walk into the nearest stall.

“Plug your ears or something,” you tell him as you lock the door. “I don’t want you listening to me pee.”

“Why the hell would I listen?” Jungkook retorts, sounding thoroughly horrified.

“Some people are into that,” you reply, wagging a finger at him despite the fact that he can’t see you through the closed door. “It’s called urolagnia. Don’t kinkshame.”

“I don’t want to know why you know that,” he grumbles under his breath. “Shut up and pee already. I have to go too.”

“But this is the girls’ room,” you snipe, finishing your business and stepping out to wash your hands. Jungkook takes your place inside the stall while you turn on the sink, eyeing his reflection pointedly in the mirror. “You’re gonna get cooties.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Ha, ha,” he says dryly. “You’re hilarious.”

And then he’s turning around, flipping you the bird before slamming the metal door in your face.

You shrug, unfazed. “I know I am,” you say, addressing your own reflection in the mirror. “Also, do you by any chance own a car?”

///

“This feels like a bad idea,” Jungkook mutters, eyeing the quiet parking lot. It’s nowhere near full, but there are still several dozen cars scattered around, empty and abandoned with no owners to be found. At the far end lies your prize—a black SUV with tinted windows and a bicycle strapped to the roof. “Should we make a run for it?” Jungkook asks. “I mean, we don’t really have any other options if we wanna make it out of here with our brains intact, and—”

“Hang on a sec,” you interrupt, grabbing his arm. “We can create a diversion first. Give me your wine bottle—I’m gonna throw it.”

Jungkook hugs the glass bottle to his chest, eyes round and expression aghast. “And leave myself defenseless? What do you want me to do, punch the zombies away?”

“That’s literally what you did ten minutes ago,” you point out, rolling your eyes. “Do you have a better idea?”

He pauses for a long moment before a resigned sigh leaves his lips. “Fine. I get to throw it, though.”

“Whatever,” you reply, waving a hand at him. “Knock yourself out. Or them. You should really knock them out, on second thought.”

Jungkook wisely chooses to ignore your rambling, hefting the bottle and testing its weight. Rearing back, he tosses it in a perfect arc, and you watch in fascination as it somersaults through the air before crashing down onto the asphalt in an explosion of shattered glass. “There!” you hiss urgently, tugging on Jungkook’s sleeve when a zombie immediately lumbers out from behind a nearby sedan, searching for the source of the noise. “We run on three, got it?”

“Got it,” he whispers back, watching raptly as several more zombies follow the first. “One…”

“Two…”

“Three!”

Together, you make a mad dash for the SUV. Jungkook gets there first, skidding to a stop and trying the driver’s side door only to find it locked. “I’ll check the other side,” you tell him, glancing around to make sure the zombies are still distracted. “Work on breaking a window or something, fast!”

The sound of a throat being cleared stops you dead in your tracks. “You’ll do no such thing,” a low voice drawls. A moment later, the platinum blond head of Min Yoongi—a reclusive senior you only know because he deejays at your favorite club every Friday night— pops out from behind the hood of the car, his dark eyes narrowed at you accusingly. “We got dibs on this one.”

“Yoongi?” you ask in surprise. “What are you—wait. We? Who’s we?”

“I’m we,” a new voice announces—one that you’re very, very familiar with. Kim Namjoon steps into view behind Yoongi, and you aren’t sure whether to be horrified or thrilled to see your philosophy TA alive and well, with what looks like a metal fence pole perched on his shoulder like a bayonet. “Hey, {Name},” Namjoon says, offering you a small smile. “Fancy seeing you here, of all places.”

“N-Namjoon,” you stammer, your heart skipping a beat and racing to catch back up. “You’re… okay.”

“More or less,” the tall man replies agreeably, shrugging. Then he glances toward his blond companion, raising a quizzical brow. “Come on, Yoongi. We’ve got room for two more, don’t we?”

Yoongi grumbles something under his breath that sounds like acquiescence, and Namjoon grins, patting him on the back. “Welcome aboard,” he says, turning back to face you and Jungkook. “We’ve got to move fast. You’re Jeon Jungkook, right? I’ve seen you around the track field. Can you do me a favor and watch my back while I open this door?”

Jungkook nods, accepting Namjoon’s brief handshake and the metal pole he hands over. Namjoon then pulls a wire coat hanger out of his jacket pocket, and you watch, awestruck, as he jimmies the car door open.

“There aren’t any keys,” Jungkook points out, peering over the taller man’s shoulder to get a glimpse of the ignition. “Now what? Does anyone know how to hotwire a car?”

“Yes,” Namjoon and Yoongi say simultaneously.

“Well, only in theory,” Namjoon adds when Yoongi rolls his eyes and brushes past him to duck underneath the steering wheel. “Yoongi’s the real expert here.”

“That makes me sound like a criminal,” the blond man grumbles as he sets his toolbox on the ground and gets to work. “For the record, I only know how to do this because of all the times my keys have gone missing. I’m not the fucking Pontiac Bandit.”

“Sounds exactly like what the fucking Pontiac Bandit would say,” you and Jungkook say at the same time, high-fiving each other.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “This isn’t even a Pontiac,” he grumbles, hissing through his teeth as he pulls a few wires free and begins fiddling with them. “Quit watching me and make yourselves useful. Go check the trunk for supplies, or something. Christ.”

Namjoon hums thoughtfully, eyeing the surrounding cars. “That’s actually a good idea. There might be something useful in some of these other cars too. {Name}, why don’t you come with me? Jungkook should probably stay here and keep watch.”

Your mouth goes dry at his suggestion, but you nod hurriedly before your brain can short-circuit at the sound of your name leaving his lips so casually. “That… yeah. That sounds good. Let’s do that.”

“Good luck!” Jungkook calls cheerily as you walk off, earning himself a hard kick in the shins from Yoongi, who’s still flat on his back on the floor of the car.

“Dude, shut the fuck up! Do you want to die?”

Jungkook looks properly abashed. “Right,” he says, lowering his voice. “My bad.”

To your left, Namjoon muffles his laugh behind his hand. Yoongi lets out an exasperated sigh, and you grin, waving at the two before departing with Namjoon. Together, you wander deeper back into the maze of abandoned vehicles scattered around the lot, peering inside for anything that might be useful. Stopping at a sedan with open windows, you slip a hand inside and unlock the door. There’s an unopened bottle of soda in the cupholder, and Namjoon smiles as he reaches into the backseat and pulls out a few grocery bags.

“Try popping the trunk,” he suggests.

“On it,” you reply, searching for the right button. Namjoon walks around back to open the lid, grinning triumphantly when he sees what’s inside.

“More groceries,” he says, hefting another bag. “And half a case of bottled water. This should be enough to get us started.” Beckoning for you to join him, he hands over the three bags before hefting the case of water over one shoulder. “You okay? I can take a bag if you want.”

You shake your head, threading your baseball bat through the handles of each bag and hefting it onto your shoulder. “I’m fine. Thanks, though,” you tell him, trying to ignore the way your heart rate picks up when he gives you a look of approval, a small smile curling the corner of his mouth and dimpling his cheeks.

“So,” you begin as the two of you start trekking back toward the SUV, “where are we headed, anyway? It seems like you and Yoongi have a plan.”

Namjoon nods. “We do. There’s a reported quarantine zone up north—it’s all over Twitter.” Reaching into the pocket of his jacket, he pulls out his cellphone, along with a massive battery pack. “I’ve been conserving my phone battery as much as I can, keeping track of any news, and I think it’s our best bet.”

“Smart.” Ruefully, you pull out your own device and show him the black screen. “My phone died ages ago.”

“You still might be able to charge it,” Namjoon points out. “The electrical grids haven’t gone down yet. And I know Yoongi’s got a cord back at the car, so we can charge our devices on the road too. He’s got all sorts of stuff—this battery pack is his, actually. I couldn’t find mine.”

“Of course you couldn’t,” you mutter, thinking back to every time he’s misplaced his laser pointer or lecture notes during class.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you say quickly. Off in the distance, you spot a few zombies shambling along, no doubt searching for their next meal. Silently, you and Namjoon begin walking faster.

Yoongi and Jungkook are both seated inside the car by the time you return. Jungkook hops out to help you load the bags, and you shoot him a grateful grin as you climb into the backseat alongside him. Namjoon takes the passenger seat, kindly plugging in your phone while Yoongi adjusts his mirrors with a frown. “The engine’s gonna draw their attention,” he says. “They probably won’t be able to get us in the car, but hang onto your weapons just in case.” Then he pauses, glancing back at the metal pole in Jungkook’s hands and the wooden bat in yours. “Well. We’ll need to make a stop and get actual weapons.”

“We can try the police station,” Namjoon suggests. “I’m sure others will have had the same idea, but it’s really our only option. Then we’ll have to load up on food, water, and gas.”

Curiously, you peer into the grocery bags sitting on the floor between you and Jungkook. “Most of this stuff’s perishable. We’ll need to get non-perishable stuff if we’re going to be on the road for a long time. How far did you say that quarantined zone is, Namjoon?”

“I didn’t. I’m not actually one-hundred percent sure myself. Social media is a mess, as you might imagine.” Turning around in his seat, Namjoon shows you his Twitter feed—conflicting news alerts interspersed with grisly photos of the destroyed city and panicked requests for aid. “The last emergency alert said that the military base just outside of city limits is safe, but I’m not so sure.” He scrolls down, revealing several videos of zombies staggering around a helicopter, and upon closer inspection, you realize that they’re in full military garb. Horrified, you take his phone to get a closer look, thumbing down the page to reveal even more atrocities.

“Shit,” Jungkook breathes, sidling over to look over your shoulder. “That’s not good.”

Yoongi sighs, eyeing both of you in the rearview mirror. “Yeah, no kidding. The only thing we’re sure about so far is that the infection started in the south, so heading north is our best bet. And hopefully, we’ll find—”

THWUMP!

Namjoon’s phone clatters out of your hands as the parked car suddenly tilts, swaying dangerously to the left before all four wheels return to the asphalt once more. Horrified, you stare at the huddled horde of zombies that has suddenly appeared at your window, bloodstained hands trying in vain to reach you through the glass. “Yoongi, I think you need to drive now!” you shout, wincing as they begin thumping on the window in earnest.

The blond man curses when the car rocks again, his eyes flickering between the dashboard and the zombies swarming on Namjoon’s side of the car. “Oh, fuck. Fuckfuckfu—HA!”

The engine roars to life, and you watch as the zombies closest to you flinch at the sudden noise before renewing their efforts, banging on the window until spiderwebbing cracks begin to form.

“Dude, floor it!” Jungkook yells.

Yoongi doesn’t need to be told twice. The car lurches forward, tires squealing, and you yelp as you’re slammed back against the seat. Instinctively, you fumble for your seat belt, ignoring the stunned look Jungkook shoots you in favor of buckling yourself in and watching the undead horde recede in the distance as you pull farther and farther away. “Holy shit,” you mutter, your head falling back against the backrest, your chest heaving with uneven breaths. “Holy fucking shit.”

Yoongi huffs out a sardonic chuckle as he slows ever so slightly to turn onto the main road. “Yeah. Welcome to the apocalypse.”

///

It’s odd, seeing the city you know and love in ruins. Billowing black smoke rises in the distance, filling the air with an acrid stench and a metallic tinge that you don’t want to think about. The roar of the SUV’s engine sounds like a siren’s song in the eerie silence of the streets, drawing unwanted attention from the undead. Everywhere you look, soulless eyes follow. Some zombies even try to chase the car, but they are quickly left behind as Yoongi slams down on the gas pedal, weaving past overturned vehicles and prone bodies.

You don’t wait to see if any of the bodies will rise up again.

Namjoon begins fiddling with the radio as Yoongi turns down yet another street, heading downtown. Static blares from the speakers, and you watch his frown get deeper the further along he scrolls through the stations. “Nothing,” he mutters after a few long minutes. “That’s not a good sign. The infrastructure is crumbling.”

Jungkook tears his gaze from the window. “What do you mean?”

Namjoon switches off the radio, letting silence envelop the car for a few seconds before speaking again. “I mean everything that sustains our way of life—the things we take for granted most days, like running water and electricity and the internet. We aren’t going to have them for much longer. Without workers to run things, we…” He sighs. “I figure we have maybe a week, at the most.”

“And then what happens?” you ask, your voice soft.

“I don’t know,” Namjoon admits. “To be honest, we might not even survive long enough to find out.”

“But we have to try,” you murmur. “Sure, we’re outnumbered and weaponless, but we have a car. We’re faster and smarter. I don’t think things are hopeless just yet.”

Namjoon shakes his head at your optimism, but Yoongi’s nodding, meeting your eyes in the rearview mirror. “Don’t mind him,” he advises. “Joon likes to overthink things and work himself up into a frenzy, but I think we’ve got a chance at making it through. Besides...” He gestures out the window with his thumb. “We won’t be weaponless for much longer.”

The car rolls to a stop in front of a square brick building that you recognize as the police station, the dark windows overlooking the street like gaping mouths. Most of the glass is broken—even on the higher stories—and you shiver at the sight of the jagged edges glinting like teeth in the wan afternoon sun.

“So... getting inside won’t be a problem,” Jungkook says dryly.

“Guess not,” Namjoon says, frowning. “Somebody definitely beat us here. Should we chance it? Everything could already be gone.��

“We’re already here, man,” Yoongi drawls, already beginning to open the door. “We may as well check it out.”

Cautiously, the four of you pile out of the SUV, eyes darting left and right as you make your way toward the front door with Jungkook in the lead. It’s hanging off its hinges and the glass is pocked with bullet holes, and a frown spreads across your face as you trace one lightly with your index finger. “Looks like there was a fight,” you murmur quietly to Namjoon, who’s standing just behind you with a rather large rock that he must have just picked up from outside. Yoongi takes up the rear with a hammer grasped tightly in his hand, and you bite back the Thor joke that’s sitting on the tip of your tongue.

“Doesn’t look like anyone’s here anymore, though,” Jungkook says, winding his way farther into the lobby. “Think these elevators still work?” he asks, gesturing at the twin metal doors on the far wall.

“Not worth the risk,” Namjoon decides, walking over to the stairwell and opening the door. He peers inside before gesturing for you to enter, allowing everyone to step past him before quietly shutting the door and eyeing the two sets of stairs branching out from the landing. “We’re looking for the station’s armory,” he whispers. “What do you guys think? Up or down?”

“We could split u—” Jungkook begins to suggest, but you cut him off before he can even finish the sentence.

“And get killed off one by one like in every horror movie ever? Are you serious, Jeon?”

Jungkook blinks. “Fine. What do you think, then?”

“I think the parking garage is probably downstairs,” you muse, peering over the railing to look at the lower landing. “And it doesn’t look like there’s another level below that, so I’d say going up is our best bet.”

A smile curls the corner of Namjoon’s mouth, dimpling one cheek as he follows your lead and glances downstairs. “Nice observation,” he says once he’s straightened up again, laying a hand on your shoulder. The gentle pressure sends a shiver up your spine, a butterfly taking flight in your stomach on fluttering, iridescent wings. It’s all you can do to smile back, thanking him softly as he retracts his hand. Already, you miss the warmth of his palm.

“Let’s go,” Jungkook says, effectively ruining the moment as he begins the ascent with his pole at the ready. Yoongi follows, and Namjoon gestures for you to go ahead of him, tucking his rock under one arm.

“It’s not the best weapon,” he says when he catches you looking, a rueful chuckle escaping him.

You grin back. “Better than nothing.”

Up ahead, Jungkook stops on the second floor landing, pressing his ear against the door. “I can’t hear anything,” he grumbles, fumbling for the doorknob and cracking the door open. “But it looks like the coast is cle— oh, shit!” Jungkook pulls the door shut again, his eyes wide.

“What happened?” Yoongi hisses. “What did you see?”

“There’s a bunch of them in the corner,” Jungkook whispers. “They’re… eating something.”

“Someone,” Yoongi corrects wryly, earning himself an elbow in the ribs courtesy of Namjoon. “Sorry,” he mutters, not sounding very sorry at all.

“How many are there?” Namjoon asks.

Jungkook pauses, casting his gaze upward as he does a mental tally. “At least seven or eight that I saw. There could be more though.”

“Did you see anything that could’ve been an armory? Some place where weapons would be stored?” Namjoon presses.

“Nah. Looked like a bunch of desks, mostly. Offices and whatnot.”

Namjoon nods slowly, tapping his chin. “Okay,” he says after a few seconds of deliberation. “Let’s keep going.” He takes the lead this time, stepping past Jungkook to the next staircase, and you follow after him, struggling to keep up when he elects to take the steps two at a time. His long legs span the increased distance with ease, and it takes every ounce of self-control you possess to refrain from staring at his flexing thigh muscles.

One flight of stairs and several instances of shameless ogling later, you find yourselves on the third floor, tiptoeing through a darkened hallway lined with doors and peering inside one by one.

“These all look like interrogation rooms,” Yoongi grumbles after a few fruitless minutes.

“Nope, this one’s a closet,” Jungkook pipes up, walking inside and exiting with a mop. The door slams shut behind him, and he winces under the absolutely withering glare Namjoon shoots at him. “My bad,” he whispers, offering the taller man the mop. “But on the bright side, I think this might be a better weapon than a rock.”

Namjoon sighs and accepts the mop. “Fine. Let’s make the rest of this search quick though. And be quiet,” he adds, with a pointed look at Jungkook. “We might be close to where the weapons are kept now, since we’ve left the administrative areas behind.”

And as it turns out, he’s right. The very next door you open is a room with a multitude of industrial shelves and racks lining the walls. Much to your disappointment, most of them are empty, but a more thorough search turns up a couple of handguns along with several cases of ammunition. Jungkook finds a stockpile of smoke grenades that he refuses to part with, and you roll your eyes as he shoves them into his pockets. “What the hell are smoke grenades going to do against zombies?”

“You never know,” Jungkook retorts. “Besides, I don’t see anything else in here. Do you?”

Dejected, you shake your head. “No, I don’t. Guess Namjoon was right—someone had the same idea as us.”

“It’s better than nothing,” Namjoon says, picking up one of the guns and peering closely at it. “Who here knows how to handle a firearm?”

Yoongi grunts. “My uncle used to take us hunting on camping trips. I’m not a great shot, but I’m all right.”

Namjoon glances over at you Jungkook. “What about you guys? No?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Do shooting games count?”

“No.”

“Okay, then no.”

Namjoon sighs and hands the other gun to Yoongi, who accepts it and checks the safety before tucking it safely into his belt. You watch as Namjoon checks his own gun, unloading the magazine and inserting a new one. “I take it you know a thing or two about guns,” you remark, inching closer to him as he engages the safety with deft fingers.

“My grandfather was a cop,” he replies softly. “He taught me a lot before he passed away.”

You bite your lip as his brow furrows, laying a gentle hand on his arm. “I’m really sorry to hear that.”

He shrugs, his gaze sliding up to meet yours. “It’s alright. It happened years ago.” Then he glances down at your hand, his expression softening just the tiniest bit. “But I appreciate it. Thanks.”

The next few minutes pass in silence as the four of you complete your sweep of the room, peering at the bottommost shelves for any equipment you might have missed. “Hey,” Yoongi says suddenly, his voice hushed. “Hand me your bat, {Name}.”

Both you and Namjoon turn to face him. “Why?” you ask curiously, handing it over and watching as he lays it on the table and pulls his hammer from his waistband.

“Nails,” he says shortly. “Found some in that drawer and figured I’d make you a proper apocalypse weapon.”

“Wait,” Namjoon interrupts, striding over as Yoongi begins hammering nails into your wooden bat. “You’re making too much noise. Someone’s going to hear us.”

“Uh, it’s kinda already too late for that,” Jungkook hisses from the entrance. He’s peering through a little square window that sits about two-thirds of the way up the door, and flinches when a bloody, pale fist slams against it, splintering the glass. “We’ve got company, guys,” he grunts, pressing his full weight against the door and wincing as the glass shatters over his head. “Anyone got any bright ideas to get us out of here in one piece?”

“No,” Namjoon says slowly. “Unless…”

“Unless?” you press.

“We need a diversion,” he says, shaking his head. “But I don’t see how we’ll create one unless… well, unless one of us goes out there and leads them away from here. But that’s asking way too much, and—“

“I’ll do it.”

All three of you whirl around to face Yoongi, who looks thoroughly unfazed by the sudden scrutiny, picking idly at a frayed corner on his jacket. “You can’t be serious,” Namjoon says, finding his voice first. “It’s dangerous.”

“So is staying here,” Yoongi replies. “Besides, aren’t you always going on about the greater good? Altruism and Comte and all that shit? Let me do this, man. I can handle it.”

“That’s not—” Namjoon stops, rubbing the bridge of his nose and letting out a heavy sigh. “That’s not the point. It’s just not practical, Yoongi. You’ll be vulnerable if you’re alone.”

“No, I’ll be fast,” Yoongi corrects, pulling out his gun and clicking off the safety. “You think we’ll do any better as groups of two? I don’t.”

“But—“ Namjoon tries again, his brow creasing, but Yoongi shakes his head and strides to the door.

“I’m gonna go left,” he says, his hand on the handle. “We came from the right, so you guys should be able to retrace our steps and get out.”

Jungkook stops him before he can exit, pressing a handful of smoke grenades into his palm. “Hang on,” he says, his throat tight. “You might need these.”

Yoongi pockets them, nodding. “Thanks, man.”

Namjoon looks like he wants to argue some more, but finally bites his lip and nods, his face resolute. “Good luck,” he says after a long, heavy pause. “Stay safe.”

Yoongi flashes you all a crooked grin. “See you soon.”

And then he’s flinging open the door, swinging his hammer into one zombie’s skull and kicking another in the knees. Namjoon stays in the doorway, shooting any and every zombie that he can see through the smashed window. You can just barely hear Yoongi jeering insults over the sound of gunfire and stumbling footsteps, the occasional thud of something heavy against the linoleum floor letting you know that Namjoon has successfully found his mark.

After what feels like an eternity, Namjoon finally pulls back from the window and turns back to you and Jungkook. “Coast is clear,” he whispers. “Let’s go.”

“And Yoongi?” you ask, anxiety roiling in your gut at the thought of the blond man facing the horde of undead alone.

“He’ll be fine,” Namjoon says automatically, and you know he’s trying to convince himself just as much as he’s reassuring you. His grip is tight on his gun as he wrenches open the door and ushers the two of you out into the hallway, and even in the dimness you see the worried glance he shoots over his shoulder, lingering on the corner that Yoongi has disappeared around.

“Come on, Joon,” you murmur, nudging his arm gently. “Yoongi’s gonna beat us back to the car at the rate we’re going.”

That draws a soft chuckle from your companion. “You’re right,” he murmurs back. “Let’s go.”

///

As it turns out, however, Yoongi does not beat you back to the SUV. The blond-haired man is nowhere to be found, and you see concern etch itself permanently onto Namjoon’s forehead as he peers around the eerily quiet street. The air feels too still, and every crunch of gravel from underneath your sneakers sounds like a gunshot.

“He’ll be back, right?” Jungkook whispers urgently to you while Namjoon is out of earshot, his doe eyes wide and beseeching. “You don’t think he got…”

He trails off, and you shake your head, unwilling to even think of the possibility that harm has befallen the blond-haired man. “Yoongi’s tough,” you declare. “He’ll be back any minute, and we should be ready to take off when he does. In case, you know, he’s still being chased.”

“Right,” Jungkook says, glancing over at Namjoon, who’s standing closest to the driver’s side and is suddenly beginning to look very sheepish.

“So… I can’t actually drive,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as your jaw drops.

“Wait, you can’t drive? Don’t you live off-campus? How do you get to class?”

Namjoon shrugs. “I usually bike. Sometimes I walk to class, if the weather’s nice.” Then he pauses, dejection settling on his features. “Although I guess I won’t be teaching classes again any time soon.”

Your heart sinks. You know from the syllabus that he handed out on the first day that this was his first semester as a teaching assistant, his passion for philosophy shining through in every lecture he’s given. “You’re a great teacher,” you tell him, intent on cheering him up. “I learned so much from you. I mean, nobody likes moral philosophy, but you somehow managed to even make that interesting, which is pretty damn incredible.”

Namjoon huffs out a laugh. “Thanks. You were a pretty damn incredible student, yourself.”

“Why, thank you,” you tell him with a grin.

Beside you, Jungkook rolls his eyes and pretends to retch. “Fine, I guess I’ll drive.” Grumbling, he swings open the driver’s side door and plops down onto the seat, adjusting it for his longer legs. “Now how the hell do I start this thing?”

Namjoon clears his throat awkwardly and tears his gaze away from yours, reaching underneath the steering wheel and pulling out a tangle of wires. You stop listening as he explains to Jungkook how to spark them together and instead turn your gaze back to the looming police station, watching intently for any sign of Yoongi’s return. Crumpled newspapers and stray plastic bags roll by, buoyed by the spring breeze. Across the street, a lone pigeon roams, head bobbing as it searches for crumbs.

“Looking for me?”

You jump, letting out a surprised shriek as Yoongi’s blond head of hair suddenly pops out from behind the trunk. “Jesus Christ, Yoongi, what the hell? Where did you come from?”

“Originally? My mother’s womb,” he replies, shrugging. The movement draws your attention to the sleeves of his jacket, newly tattered and splattered with crimson, and any witty retort you might have had is immediately swallowed up by concern.

“Is that blood? Oh my god, is that your blood?”

Your shout alerts Namjoon and Jungkook, twin looks of concern marring their faces as they clamber out of the SUV and join the two of you. “No, no—I’m not hurt,” Yoongi reassures, dismissing your worries with a wave of his hand. “Things did get a little dicey, but it all worked out in the end.”

“How exactly did you escape?” Namjoon asks.

Yoongi grins crookedly. “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”

Jungkook blinks. “What?”

“If I couldn’t beat them, I had to join them,” Yoongi elaborates, gesturing to his tattered, dirty clothing. “I stumbled across the evidence room while I was trying to find another way out, and got an idea. This—” he gestures at the red stains splattered across his clothing, “—is actually spray paint. The police must’ve confiscated it from graffiti artists or something. Then all I had to do was rip up my jacket and limp a little and, well, here we are.”

“And that worked?” you ask in disbelief. “You just… pretended to be a zombie and walked out?”

“More or less,” Yoongi says with another shrug. “Now come on, let’s blow this joint. They could find us any second, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t really wanna die just yet. Pretending was enough.”

You have about a million more questions, but Yoongi takes his spot in the driver’s seat before you can ask any of them, readjusting the seat and promising an inquisitive Jungkook that he’ll teach him how to drive the hotwired vehicle next time. The rest of you take your seats as the engine roars to life underneath the blond man’s skilled fingertips, and with a squeal of tires against asphalt, you are off once again, heading toward the great unknown.

///

“Wait, wait, no, stop!”

Yoongi slams on the brakes at Jungkook’s shout, the car skidding to an abrupt halt. “What is it?” he demands, his gaze darting around frantically as his fingers reach for his gun. “Is there a problem?”

Jungkook winces. “Sorry. I was talking to Namjoon, actually.”

Yoongi visibly relaxes, shaking his head as he resumes driving. Namjoon glances back at Jungkook, his eyebrows disappearing behind his dark hair in silent inquiry. “Yes?”

“The radio,” Jungkook says, gesturing at the dashboard buttons that Namjoon has been fiddling with incessantly for the last several minutes. “Go back to the last station for a sec.”

Obediently, Namjoon turns the dial. Staticky white noise fills the air, and Jungkook frowns. Then a few jumbled words filter through the static, and he lets out a triumphant shout. “There!”

“Huh,” Namjoon says, leaning closer to the speaker. “I can’t understand a thing they’re saying. We must be out of range.”

“But we must be getting closer—I think I can make out a few words,” Jungkook says. “Everyone shut up and let me listen…” He trails off, and for a few moments, there is only the sound of garbled static and the low whir of the tires against pavement. Then Jungkook flops back against the seat, a pensive frown settling on his face. “Huh.”

You nudge his shoulder. “Well? What did you hear?”

“Not a whole lot,” he admits. “And I can’t be sure that what I heard was right, but… I think the broadcast is coming from Sonyeo City.”

Namjoon purses his lips, his chin jutting out in the way it does whenever he’s deep in thought. “Sonyeo City… that’s about six hours away, isn’t it?”

Yoongi hums. “Yeah, just about.”

“Do you think…” you trail off, hesitant. “Do you think that this means Sonyeo City’s… safe?”

“There’s no way to be sure.” Namjoon casts his gaze out the window, and you get the feeling he’s looking far beyond the crumbling streets and dark buildings, to the horizon where there still may be a glimmer of hope. “But at least we now have a destination in mind.”

The rest of the ride is quiet. Namjoon keeps the radio on just in case another snippet of discernible audio comes through, but none of you manage to catch anything important. Yoongi stops at a gas station to refuel, and a few minutes after that, finally manages to find a grocery store that looks to be mostly intact and devoid of any immediate threats.

“Let’s get this bread,” Jungkook proclaims as he slides out of the backseat, walking toward the entrance of the store. “And by bread, I mean Twinkies.”

You gape at his retreating back. “Is that a Zombieland reference?”

“Maybe,” he replies, shooting you a playful grin over his shoulder.

Shaking your head, you follow him through the automatic doors and glance around the interior of the store. Row after row of shelves take up the majority of the room, with an open space on the far right for fresh produce and glass-paneled refrigerators lining the wall. Behind you, the doors slide open again with a whoosh, and you turn to meet Namjoon’s eyes as he steps inside with Yoongi. “We should lock the doors,” you point out.

“You’re right,” Namjoon agrees, inspecting the metal frame surrounding the glass.

“Hang on,” Jungkook interrupts, eyes wide as he watches Namjoon fumble with the mechanism. “Are you locking us in?”

“For the time being,” Namjoon says absentmindedly, still focused on the door.

You walk over to Jungkook and pat his cheek. “He’s not locking us in; he’s locking them out. Or would you rather have a horde of zombies stumble in while we’re grabbing supplies?”

“... fair point.”

“Exactly.”

Yoongi, meanwhile, is gazing around the store, leery as always. “Hello?” he calls, his voice cutting through the silence. “Anyone home?”

Not even two seconds later, a shambling, shuffling figure emerges from a far aisle, moving surprisingly quickly despite its odd, lopsided gait. Two more follow, and Yoongi raises his gun, clicking off the safety and narrowing his eyes.

Toward the other end of the store, you spot another zombie dragging itself along the floor, leaving a trail of streaky, bloody handprints in its wake. Three more shuffle out from behind a display of watermelons, heading toward you, and you tighten your grip on your nail-studded bat as they draw ever closer.

Shots ring out behind you, but you don’t chance a glance backward. Out of your peripheral vision you spot Jungkook on your left, bringing his metal pole down onto the crawling zombie’s head with a sickening crunch. Leaping into action, you swing at the closest zombie’s head. It was once a woman, you notice—long stringy hair falling around her decaying face, the bottom half of her jaw visible through the peeling skin. “Sorry about this,” you say, wincing as your bat makes impact. The nails catch in her skin, her neck cracking under the force of the blow, and you yelp as she falls over and the other two zombies take her place.

“Watch out!”

Namjoon’s voice suddenly sounds from behind you, and you instinctively duck as he sprints over and shoots one point blank. Jungkook takes out the other, driving the pole through its chest before pulling it out and smashing it over the zombie’s head. “Are there more?” he asks, slightly out of breath.

“Not sure,” Yoongi says, rejoining you. “I would think most of the lurkers were drawn out by all the noise.”

“Better to be safe than sorry,” Namjoon says. Walking over to a checkout lane, he grabs a pile of plastic bags and an abandoned cart. “Let’s stay together and take the aisles one at a time. We’ll take as much as we can carry.”

“Don’t forget bottled water,” you pipe up, pointing at the stack of water bottles piled next to the door. “We’ve already drank most of what we have. And if we’re getting canned food, we’ll need a can opener too.”

Namjoon follows the direction of your finger. “Good call.”

“I’ll get it,” Jungkook volunteers, jogging over to select a twenty-four pack of bottles and heaving it into the cart. “Now what?”

“Let’s grab the can opener first,” you say. “Maybe some other utensils too. Sound good?”

Namjoon nods. “Sounds great,” he says, handing you one of the bags. Jungkook and Yoongi accept the other bags that Namjoon doles out, and together the four of you head farther into the store, scanning the signs until you come across the one labeled household goods. It’s clear that others have been here before you, but a quick raid of the shelves yields two can openers and a set of silverware, all of which you deposit into your bag. Namjoon grabs four unbroken bowls, mismatched and in varying sizes, and you hold out your bag for him to drop them inside.

Next up is the canned food aisle, where you stock up on various vegetables and far more beans than you care to think about. Jungkook grabs a box of instant coffee, and Yoongi disappears for a few seconds and returns with a massive jar of vitamin supplements. “Gotta stay healthy,” he says in response to your raised eyebrows, adding it to the growing pile in Namjoon’s cart.

“Speaking of healthy, we should grab some produce,” you say. “It won’t stay good forever, but we can at least get some apples and oranges. And we should probably grab some stuff for dinner too. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starving.”

As if on cue, Namjoon’s stomach rumbles. “Dinner would be nice,” he admits with a sheepish grin. “Let’s finish up here and then eat in the car. We probably don’t want to stick around here for much longer than we have to.”

After some discussion, the four of you decide on sandwiches for dinner and set about gathering the necessary ingredients. Yoongi wanders to the deli area to pick out a selection of meats that haven’t yet spoiled, and even manages to locate some cheese. You peruse the produce, selecting a head of lettuce and several ripe tomatoes while Namjoon fills a bag with apples and grabs a bunch of bananas. Jungkook raids the bread display, shoving two whole loaves and a box of dinner rolls into his bag. Several bags of chips and a pack of juice boxes later, you are ready to go, heading back out into the parking lot where the SUV is parked.

“Wait!” Jungkook suddenly yelps, stopping dead in the middle of loading the trunk. “I forgot my Twinkies!”

“Are you serious right now, Jeon?” you hiss, watching in disbelief as he hurriedly drops his bags and turns back toward the entrance.

“Yes,” he says stubbornly, already beginning to jog away.

Yoongi groans and flops down into the driver’s seat. “Sartre was right,” he grumbles under his breath. “Hell is other people.”

Namjoon gives him an astonished look, mouth already open and ready to question what exactly his friend knew about the French existentialist philosopher, but quickly snaps back to the issue at hand when you abandon your own bags and dart after Jungkook. Immediately, Namjoon follows, nearly tripping in his efforts to keep up with you, and you whirl in concern when he lets out a sudden, startled shout. “What is it?”

Namjoon grimaces, brushing a stray lock of dark hair off his forehead. “Sorry, it’s just—holy shit!”

A skeletal, gaunt hand is grasping at Namjoon’s ankle, and you gasp when you realize that it belongs to the female zombie from before, her milky eyes gazing unseeingly out from beneath stringy hair. Cursing, Namjoon shakes her off and fumbles for his gun. Pointing it down, he aims and pulls the trigger.

Click.

“I’m out of bullets,” he whispers in dawning horror.

You reach for your trusty bat, tucked away in its sling on your back, but the handle keeps evading your grasping fingers, the nails catching in the fabric. Your palms begin to sweat as Namjoon kicks at the zombie, stomping on her arm and cracking all the bones. He’s glancing around frantically for something he can use as a weapon, but to no avail. And all the while, the undead woman continues her dogged pursuit, crawling after him with one good arm like a lopsided cockroach, teeth gnashing furiously in anticipation of her next meal.

“NOT TODAY, MOTHERFUCKER!”

Jungkook barges onto the scene with his metal pole in hand, glinting dull silver in the flickering fluorescent lights. He smashes the zombie over the head once, twice, three times before relenting, his chest heaving with exertion. Namjoon sucks in a deep breath when she finally falls limp, reaching out to clap Jungkook on the back. “Wow,” he says shakily. “Thanks, man. That was a close call.”

Jungkook straightens up and hefts his weapon over his shoulder. “And that’s why we have rule number two here in Zombieland,” he says proudly.

Namjoon asks the question before you even have a chance to stop him. “What’s rule two?”

Jungkook grins a grin so wide, you’re surprised his mouth doesn’t fall off altogether. “The Double Tap, of course.” Then his gaze flickers downward, to where a familiar blue-and-white box lies crumpled against the linoleum. “Oh, no. My Twinkies!”

You sigh.

///

Dinner—if it can even be called that—is a quick affair, eaten while huddled in the SUV and parked in an alley. The sun is setting rapidly, dipping beyond the horizon and bathing the surrounding buildings in a fiery orange glow. It’s been mercifully quiet for the past half hour, broken only by the occasional crunch of a chip or a slurp from a juice box.

Yoongi starts driving again after he’s polished off the last of his sandwich. Dusky twilight cloaks the city in purple—turning it into something strange and unfamiliar. Normally, the streets would be aglow with lit lamps and illuminated homes, crowded with people returning home after a long day of work or classes. Now, though, the streets are silent and abandoned. The few zombified citizens you pass are quickly left behind, and you know you aren’t imagining the melancholy air that’s settled over your companions, nestling deep into the nooks and crannies of the SUV, stagnant and unshakable. It grows stronger the farther Yoongi drives, the buildings getting shorter and the space between them growing longer, and your heart breaks a little in your chest when you turn for one last look at the city you’ve all come to call home.

You can’t quite explain it, but somehow, you know you won’t ever be coming back.

Namjoon begins fiddling with the radio dials again as Yoongi turns onto the highway, a burst of static breaking the stifling silence in the car. Jungkook startles slightly at the sharp sound, looking up from where he’d been staring out the window. “Is that the station from before?”

Namjoon hums in affirmation, adjusting the volume until the white noise is just a low buzz. Jungkook settles back into his seat, but you can see that he’s listening carefully, his knee bouncing in anticipation.

And then, without any warning whatsoever, a voice comes through the static, clear as day.

Testing, one, two. Is anybody out there?

If you’ve still got a functioning brain and at least one ear, congratulations! another voice chimes in, brighter than the first. You’re listening to 2J! Straight out of Sonyeo City, we’re your premier source of zombie news—

—your only source, really—

—and we’re here to bring you all the latest so that you can stay safe out there, the second voice continues as if there was no interruption at all.

Unfortunately, the first voice says, adopting a more somber tone now, there isn’t a lot of good news. We’re still in the dark about how this epidemic started. Reports claim that it began in a city in the south, which multiple sources have confirmed, but the government has yet to put out an official statement regarding the situation.

They’re being pretty dodgy about the whole thing, to be honest, the second voice continues. The first emergency alert said it was a mutated virus, but the second claimed it was a contaminated water reservoir. I wouldn’t be surprised if this was some super-secret experiment gone wrong, Jin.

Honestly, me neither, the man named Jin says. But that’s enough of the conspiracies for now, Jay. Let’s talk survival! First thing you’ll want to do, dear listeners, is head north toward Sonyeo City, where a quarantine zone has been set up.

Jungkook releases a long, pent-up breath. “We were right,” he whispers. “Thank god.”

Namjoon flashes him a little smile and cranks up the volume, listening carefully as Jin’s voice fills the car.

Your best bet is to drive, of course, hop in your car and get going. Stock up on gas and non-perishable food, and some weapons certainly wouldn’t hurt either.

If worst comes to worst and you have to kill a zombie, the best way to do it is to smash its head in, Jay pipes up. You can also break their kneecaps to slow them down, but that won’t kill them for good. They’ll keep coming as long as they can still move—and if they bite you, you’re a goner.

Now onto ways to avoid zombies! Jin says, perhaps a bit too cheerfully. One thing I’ve noticed during my research is how quickly their optic nerves deteriorate once they’re infected. In fact, the rate of deterioration is second only to that of their vocal chords!

And now tell them what that means in plain English, Jay prods, laughing.

Jin chortles. Basically, they have shit eyesight, especially in the dark, he clarifies. If it’s nighttime and you find yourself surrounded somehow, your best bet is to stay quiet and move slowly. If they hear you, well…

You’re a goner, Jay supplies helpfully.

Exactly. Thanks, Jay.

No problem, Jin.

And that brings us to the end of this broadcast, Jin says, clapping his hands. Thanks for tuning in today, and we’ll see you next time.

Until then, this has been 2J. Stay safe out there!

There’s a dull click, and then the static resumes, filling the silence left in the wake of the broadcast. “Well, at least we’re headed in the right direction,” Yoongi says after a few long moments. “It’s a long drive though, and I don’t think I can stay awake for much longer. We might want to start looking for a place to sleep for the night.”

“That’s a good idea,” Namjoon says. “I’m pretty sure we’ve all been running on pure adrenaline up to this point, so we definitely need some rest. We’ll start fresh tomorrow morning.”

Mumbles of agreement all around. Ten minutes later, Jungkook points to a quaint little farmhouse on the right side of the road, the windows dark. “Think anyone’s home?”

“Guess we’ll find out,” Yoongi replies, slowly pulling off the road and into the winding driveway, watching for any movement from the house or the surrounding fields. The hum of the engine doesn’t draw any unwanted attention, and you breathe a tentative sigh of relief as he parks the car beneath a large oak tree. Together, the four of you pile out and approach the house, weapons at the ready.

“Should we knock?” you whisper, looking at the little brass knocker in the middle of the front door. “Ring the doorbell, maybe?”

“Can’t hurt, right?” Jungkook jabs his thumb into the button by the doorknob, listening intently as the bell chimes inside the house. After a few beats of silence, he shrugs. “Guess no one’s home.”

“And the door’s locked,” Yoongi says, trying the knob. “Maybe they’re away on vacation or something.” Wandering over to a nearby window, he jimmies the frame, a wry grin crossing his features when it pops open easily. “They should probably invest in better locks, though.”

One by one, you climb through the window. Namjoon is the last one inside, folding his tall frame through the small space, and as soon as both his feet touch carpet, Yoongi shuts the window again and closes the curtains. “Don’t wanna be seen from the street,” he explains as he pulls out his cell phone and taps the flashlight button, illuminating the room in harsh white light. Namjoon does the same, as does Jungkook, and you pull your own phone out as well—now fully charged from the long car ride. A quick sweep of the house reveals that it is indeed empty, and Jungkook whoops when his flashlight falls upon a rifle mounted over the fireplace. Further investigation reveals two more pistols in a cabinet, along with ample ammunition, and Yoongi grins as he loads all three guns and hands one over to you.

“You ever shot one of these before?”

The gun is heavy in your palm. Slowly, you shake your head.

Yoongi glances over at Namjoon slyly. “Why don’t you give her a lesson out back, then?”

You don’t miss the way Namjoon’s ears flush pink, his feet scuffing nervously against the carpeted floor before he chances a look at you. The smile that he offers you is warm but hesitant, and when he speaks, his voice is even more so. “Sure,” he says. “I can show you how, if you’d like.”

“I’d really like that,” you tell him, the butterflies erupting in your chest when his smile widens. Together, the two of you head toward the back of the house, taking a detour to the kitchen where Namjoon grabs an armful of empty soda cans. His shoulder brushes against yours as you walk, but neither of you pull away. Even as you step onto the wooden patio that leads into the rest of the yard, you remain side by side, admiring the full moon that hangs bright in the sky, providing just enough illumination to view your surroundings.

“I suppose we should start with the basics,” Namjoon begins, his gaze alighting on a low fence lining the property. Jogging over, he lines the cans up on the wooden beam before returning to your side and gesturing for you to raise the pistol. His fingers skim across yours as he shows you how to disengage the safety, and your heart skips a beat when he explains how to reload once you run out of bullets, his large hands guiding yours through each step.

There’s a damp chill in the evening air, but you don’t even feel it. Namjoon is so close by this point, his chest pressed almost flush against your back as he shows you how to aim. His fingers wrap around your wrist, warm and gentle, and you shiver when he speaks again, his mouth at your ear, his voice rumbling through his chest.

“Ready?”

You nod, almost afraid to breathe as your finger finds the trigger. Namjoon’s grip on your wrist loosens but doesn’t disappear entirely, and you steel yourself for the recoil as you finally pull the trigger. The loud crack has you wincing, but Namjoon is laughing, the sound deep and husky as he urges you to lower the gun.

“Nice shot.”

You turn to look at the fence, now missing one soda can. “Oh, wow,” you breathe. “That was… kind of therapeutic, actually. Can we try again?”

Namjoon grins. “Of course we can.”

///

Ten cans and a box of ammunition later, you and Namjoon find yourselves lounging on the steps of the patio, staring up at the velvety night sky. “I’ve never seen so many stars before,” you murmur, a little awestruck by the sight. “But now that we’re away from the city and all that light pollution… wow. It’s amazing.”

“It’s beautiful,” Namjoon agrees, his gaze lingering on you for a moment too long before he collects himself and looks up at the sky once more.

“I wish I knew more constellations,” you say, laughing softly. “I can really only pick out the Big Dipper. And even then, I can only find it about eighty percent of the time.”

“What about the Little Dipper?” Namjoon asks. He scoots a little closer to you, pointing upward. “Do you see that really bright star up above the Big Dipper? That’s Polaris—the north star. It’s the end of the handle.”

You follow the trajectory of his finger curiously, eyes widening when you spot the smaller, but still distinctive, spoon shape. “Oh! Yes, I see it now. I don’t know how I didn’t notice it before.”

Namjoon chuckles. “I can show you where Orion is too,” he says. “That’s as far as my knowledge of constellations goes, though.”

“You know more than I do,” you reply, smiling up at him. Softly, you lay a hand on his arm. “Thank you for showing me.”

“You’re welcome,” he murmurs, cheeks dimpling as he gazes down at you. This close, you can see all the stars reflected in his irises, his skin glowing silver under the luminescence of the full moon. And in a sudden surge of boldness, you allow your hand to slide down until it’s laying atop his, your fingers settling in the spaces between his own.

Namjoon glances down at your intertwined hands, his lips twitching with a barely restrained smile. “You know,” he murmurs, his breath visible in the chilly air, “I’ve always kind of liked you.”

You blink at the admission. “Really?”

He huffs out a soft chuckle, his chest rumbling with the sound. “It’s crazy, right? But it’s true. Ever since you sat down in the front row on the first day of my class with a bright pink pen and no laptop… do you know how rare it is to see someone take handwritten notes in this day and age?”

Your cheeks heat up. “You noticed that?”

“I did,” he replies, taking your hand in his and twining your fingers together properly. “Do you remember that essay the professor assigned? It must have been the second or third assignment—the one about moral responsibility in modern society?” At your nod, he smiles and continues. “Yours was the best one I read, hands down.”

“Yeah, he talked about it for three days straight,” a new voice says. Whirling around, you see Yoongi’s head poking out the back door, smirking like the cat that ate the proverbial canary. “He wouldn’t shut up about it. It was annoying as hell.”

Namjoon groans. “Seriously, Yoongi?”

The blond man puts his hands up innocently. “Just stopping by to make sure you guys weren’t dead,” he says before letting the door shut again, chortling to himself.

Namjoon sighs and turns back to you, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sorry about him. He doesn’t have much of a filter.”

You giggle and squeeze his hand. “Don’t worry about it. He’s gone now, so I can finally do this.”

Namjoon tilts his head curiously. “Do wha—?” he begins to say, only to be cut off by your mouth on his. The kiss is soft and slow, your lips moving lazily against his, and by the time you pull away, both of you are breathing much more heavily. Namjoon’s hands find their way around your waist, tugging you close, and you nestle deeper into the warmth of his embrace, enjoying how it wards off the chill in the air.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, you know,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his cheek.

He chuckles and chases after your mouth, his nose bumping affectionately against yours. “Yeah. Me too.”

///

You wake up the next morning to golden sunlight streaming in through the window and an arm wrapped firmly around your waist. Namjoon hasn’t opened his eyes yet, his hair sticking every which way, but his grip on you tightens when he feels you begin to stir. “Good morning,” he mumbles, finally cracking an eye open and smiling down at you.

“Good morning,” you whisper back. You’re positive that you look like an absolute mess—hair in disarray, face crusty from sleep, body desperately in need of a shower—and yet Namjoon is staring at you like you’re the most beautiful creature he’s ever laid eyes on, dimples dotting his cheeks as he reaches up to stroke your cheek with his thumb. You reciprocate with a kiss to his palm, and he grins. Grabbing your chin, he tilts your face up so he can kiss you properly—his lips soft and gentle against yours. It almost feels like an ordinary morning, and for a few moments, you can pretend that there isn’t a monstrous epidemic running rampant through large swathes of the country. For a few moments, you’re just a girl and a boy, basking in the idyllic haze of each other’s presence.

But then there’s a knock on the door, followed by Yoongi’s low drawl. “Get dressed and come eat, lovebirds. Sooner we get on the road, the better.”

You break apart from Namjoon, giggling when you see the dopey grin stretched across his face. “Why are you looking at me like that, you weirdo?”

His grin only widens, his arms looping around your waist. “It’s just funny,” he says. “Waking up with you, Yoongi yelling at us—this is the first ordinary morning I’ve had in a long time. And I’ve missed it. I’ve missed it a lot.”

“So have I,” you murmur, burying your face into the warm cotton of his t-shirt and allowing yourself one more moment of normalcy before getting out of bed. Walking into the bathroom, you are pleased to discover that the water is still running, and Namjoon even manages to unearth some unused toothbrushes and toothpaste from underneath the sink. The bristles are a little too stiff for your liking and the water has a metallic tinge that refuses to dissipate, but being able to brush your teeth makes a world of difference. There’s a noticeable bounce in your step as you make your way downstairs with Namjoon, and Yoongi and Jungkook pick up on it right away.

“Someone’s chipper this morning,” Yoongi says without looking up from his bowl of dry cereal. “The sex was that good, huh?”

“W-we didn’t…” Namjoon stammers, his cheeks flushing. “That’s not what we—”

You squeeze his hand, stopping his rambling in its tracks. “Let them think what they want,” you advise. “They’re just jealous of your dick game, anyway.”

“Ew,” Jungkook grumbles, throwing an apple at you. “Way too much information, {Name}.”

You shrug, just barely managing to catch the piece of fruit. “You guys brought it up first. Not my fault.”

The remainder of breakfast passes quickly. Yoongi and Jungkook head outside to start loading the car while you and Namjoon scour the house one last time for anything that might be useful, and within the hour, you are back on the road toward Sonyeo City.

“You know, this Jin character sounds like a piece of work,” Yoongi grumbles from the passenger seat for what feels like the millionth time. Jungkook is driving today, which leaves you and Namjoon in the backseat with the eclectic collection of food and weapons you’ve amassed. The four of you are listening to the 2J broadcast again, and after a rather lengthy discussion of zombie evasion techniques, Jin has lapsed into telling the worst dad jokes you’ve ever heard.

What does a vegetarian zombie eat? Graaains!

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Yoongi groans.

Morning turns into midday, the sun high in the sky. The road winds on, through green cornfields and grassy plains and the occasional small town. Several times, you spot a zombie or two shambling around aimlessly through the windows, but they’re quickly forgotten as Jungkook slams on the gas pedal. You get the feeling that he’s relishing the lack of an enforced speed limit, and taking full advantage of the empty highway.

It’s late afternoon by the time you arrive on the outskirts of Sonyeo City. Off in the distance, you can see taller skyscrapers rising up, gray and hazy against the horizon, but the area you’re in right now seems to be the warehouse district. Low, squat factories sit on either side of the road and a branching network of railroad tracks weaves throughout, but everything is eerily still and deathly quiet. No smoke rises up from the smokestacks, and you’re pretty sure you spot a train that’s been toppled over onto its side before Jungkook hits the gas again and takes you deeper into the city. The buildings get taller the farther you drive, but you still have yet to see any signs of life besides the occasional bobbing pigeon or scurrying rat.

That all changes when the car rounds the next corner. It looks as if a bomb has gone off in one of the largest brick buildings lining the street, covering the entire block in a layer of rubble. Zombified citizens mill around in the debris, and Jungkook slams on the brakes, his eyes wide with panic.

“Dude, just back up and try another street,” Yoongi says when he doesn’t move. “They haven’t noticed us yet.”

“No, that’s not it,” Jungkook says, his voice shaking. “We’re… we’re low on gas. Like, really, really low.”

Yoongi takes another look outside and blanches. “Are you fucking kidding me? We’ll get killed if we try to refuel now!”

“I’ll—I’ll get us as far away as I can,” Jungkook stammers, throwing the vehicle into reverse and beginning to back away from the mayhem. He clears the corner and continues backward for another two blocks before the car slows to a full stop, a groan escaping his lips. “Fuck.”

Glancing out the window, you see four stray zombies stumbling toward you. “Uh, guys? We have a bit of a problem.”

Namjoon curses and begins digging through the stash of weapons at his feet, pulling out several long knives and an axe you’d taken from the farmhouse. “We don’t stand a chance without a car,” he mutters as he pulls out supplies. “Yoongi, grab the gas. I’ll watch your back while you fill up the tank. Jungkook, be ready to drive at a moment’s notice. {Name}...” He grins, handing you the rifle to join the pistol you already have at your side. “You’re on sniper duty. But save it as a last resort, okay? Gunshots will draw even more attention to us, which is the last thing we need right now.”

“Got it,” you say, accepting the box of ammunition he slides over and ignoring the way your heart begins to pound in your chest. “Stay safe out there, okay?”

Namjoon presses a quick kiss to your mouth, ignoring the disgusted sound Jungkook makes. “I will, don’t worry. Be back soon.” And then he’s hopping out of the car, joining Yoongi at the gas tank and scanning the street for any approaching threats. The four zombies at the end of the street are still a block and a half away, but the distance doesn’t make you feel any better as you watch Namjoon and Yoongi standing out in the open, unprotected. Through the open window, you can hear Yoongi cursing, hands shaking as he opens up the gas can.

Bang!

A young man bursts out of an apartment complex just up the street, the door slamming against the brick wall behind it. Even from a block away, you can see the frantic expression on his face as he dashes outside without taking proper stock of his surroundings. Your mouth opens to shout a warning—beside you, you can see Jungkook about to do the same—but it’s already too late. The zombies are upon him before he can even scream, rotting teeth tearing into his flesh and ripping chunks away until he’s reduced to a huddled mass of blood and viscera on the ground, deathly still and silent.

Then, to your absolute disbelief, the man is crawling to his feet again, his stance lopsided and his expression blank. Half of his jaw has been torn away, exposing teeth, and your stomach squirms at the sight of his fresh wounds still oozing crimson.

“Holy shit!” Jungkook screeches, whirling around to face you with wild eyes. “We need to get out of here!”

“I know, dumbass!” you yell back, craning your head back to check on your other two companions only to nearly jump out of your skin when the door flies open in your face.

“It’s me!” Namjoon shouts, sliding into his seat. Up front, Yoongi is already seated, his chest heaving with uneven breaths. “Drive, Jungkook!”

Jungkook lets loose a colorful string of curses and fumbles to start the engine, eyes skittering between the steering wheel and the approaching zombies. “Come on, come on—”

“WAIT!”

All four of you whirl around, searching for the source of the unfamiliar voice. A split second later, a young man with fluffy blond hair pops up in your window, followed quickly by another man with longer, dark brown hair. “Please wait!” the blond man entreaties, wincing when you let out a startled yelp and slam a hand against the glass. “Please!”

“Who the fuck are you?” you gasp.

“My name’s Jimin, and this is Taehyung,” he says, glancing over to where the zombies are rapidly approaching. “You have to take us with you!”

Jungkook chooses that moment to butt in. “What the fuck? No way! How do we know you’re not infected?”

“We’re not!” It’s Taehyung who speaks this time, his voice low but no less urgent than Jimin’s. “Please, you have to believe us.”

“How do you expect us to do that?” Yoongi growls. “We don’t know you—you could be trying to kill us, for all we know.”

“Why the hell would we kill you?” Jimin yelps, looking offended by the very idea.

“We’re not zombies, I promise” Taehyung adds, frowning. “No need to be so paranoid.”

“I think a healthy dose of paranoia is a good thing in this situation!” Yoongi snaps.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Namjoon’s pensive expression, his chin jutting out in the way it does when he’s focused. “Joon? You okay?”

His frown deepens. “I think we have to let them in.”

Yoongi balks. “Dude, what the fuck?”

Namjoon shakes his head. “No, seriously. Remember what Jin said in that broadcast—about how quickly an infected person’s vocal chords deteriorate? There’s no way they’d be talking if they were infected. Absolutely none.”

Jimin claps. “Exactly! Now can you please unlock the door?”

You look at Namjoon, who nods. Jungkook groans and Yoongi slaps a hand over his eyes, but you nod back and reach over to flip the switch, the door unlocking with an audible click.

“Thank you so much,” Jimin chants as he piles into the backseat in a mess of limbs. “Thank you. Holy shit, thank you.” Taehyung follows after him, slamming the door shut, and you grunt when Jimin scoots over to give him a little more room and nearly elbows you in the face.

“Careful,” Namjoon cautions, wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging until you are practically seated in his lap. Beside you, Jimin and Taehyung make themselves comfortable, carefully avoiding the bags of supplies on the floor as Jungkook starts the car.

“Thanks again,” Jimin repeats earnestly once he’s settled in. “I know it must’ve been hard sticking your necks out like that, but we really do appreciate it.”

“Why were you even out in the open like that?” Yoongi asks, narrowing his eyes at Jimin. “Isn’t there supposed to be a quarantine zone somewhere in this godforsaken city?”

Taehyung nods. “Yeah, it’s in the city center, past the river. We were headed there ourselves, but then the explosion happened.”

“You guys must’ve seen it,” Jimin says. “Few blocks back, rocks and garbage everywhere? We think it was a gas leak, but who knows? It totaled our car, and we’ve been on foot ever since.”

Yoongi looks a little abashed. “Sorry to hear that.”

Jimin shrugs and offers him a crooked grin. “It’s all good. We’re still here now, and we’re still alive. That’s really all that matters.”

///

As it turns out, Jimin is a cadet in the local police academy—something you discover when his jacket falls open to reveal an impressive array of weapons strapped to his belt. Taehyung is an art history student, but between his fondness for paintball and his childhood on a farm, you quickly find that he’s almost just as well-versed in marksmanship as Jimin.

In the last ten minutes, however, Taehyung has fallen oddly silent. A glance over at the brown-haired man reveals that he is staring out the window, lost in thought as buildings rush by. Jimin is still chattering about the academy to a very interested Namjoon, but you don’t miss the occasional furtive glance he gives his friend, his brow creasing briefly in concern before he manages to smooth his expression out again.

Up ahead, you catch a glimpse of the river—a ribbon of blue snaking its way through the city. “There’s a big bend in the river, kind of like a horseshoe, right around the downtown area,” Jimin explains. “I think it was some kind of fortress back in the day, before the rest of the city was built around it. Most of the walls are still standing—historical preservation and whatnot—so the only way to get there is by crossing the bridge or going through the tunnel. And I’m like ninety percent sure they’ve already closed the tunnel down.”

“Bridge it is, then,” Yoongi says. “You know how to get us there?”

“Yeah, you take a left at the next light and then—”

“Can we actually stop here for a minute?”

Everyone glances back at Taehyung, who seems to have finally found his voice again. “Stop?” Namjoon asks, a frown etching its way across his face. “Why?”

Taehyung sucks in a deep breath, his gaze darting over to an unassuming brick building on the corner. “It’s just that… that’s where my little sister lives.”

And in an instant, you understand. You understand why he’s been so quiet this entire time, and why he’s been gazing out the window so wistfully. Jungkook steps on the brake, and the car rolls to a slow stop at the curb. “I get it,” he mutters, his fingers tight around the steering wheel. “I’d… I’d want to check too, if it were my brother.”

Murmurs of agreement all around. Taehyung smiles weakly, mumbling his thanks, and Jimin takes his hand with a reassuring smile. “Come on, Tae. Let’s go get Eonjin.”

“I’ll come too,” Jungkook volunteers, hopping out of the driver’s seat. “You might need the extra help.”

Yoongi sighs and exits the car as well, glancing back at you and Namjoon. “Guess I should stretch my legs too. You two wanna watch the car?

You nod. “We can do that.”

Yoongi nods back and follows the other three men into the building. You watch as they disappear into its dark depths, letting out a soft sigh.

“Do you think they’ll find her?”

Namjoon hums. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I hope so, for Taehyung’s sake. But I really don’t know if they will.”

You sigh again, shifting into a more comfortable position on his lap and letting your head fall back onto his shoulder. His arms tighten around your waist, and you shiver as his warm breath caresses your neck. “I’m glad my parents are overseas on a cruise right now,” you say softly. “They posted photos just yesterday, so I guess that means that whatever this epidemic is, it isn’t a global thing.”

“You’re lucky,” Namjoon mumbles. “I haven’t heard from my parents yet.”

You stiffen in his embrace. “You… you haven’t? Oh my god, Joon, I’m so sorry.”

He tries to shrug off your concern, but you don’t miss the way his throat bobs harshly as he swallows. “It is what it is,” he says after a few seconds. “I’ve heard from my sister, at least. She says she’ll be making her way here in the next day or two.”

“That’s good,” you murmur. You don’t know what else you could possibly say, and Namjoon, luckily, seems to understand.

“Yeah.”

Silence falls over the two of you, then—each of you lost in your own thoughts. Even though you’re so close to your destination now, it still feels far—as if it’s a mirage that will disappear if you so much as breathe the wrong way. You don’t know what awaits you, and for a moment, you’re terrified of the possibilities. But Namjoon’s arms remain wound around you, his presence warm and reassuring even now, and you think to yourself that maybe—just maybe—everything will be all right.

And then Jimin’s banging on your window again, forcibly pulling you out of your stupor. “Guys! Guys! It’s Tae—he’s been bitten!”

A beat passes. His words take a second to register in your brain—Tae, bitten—almost as if they don’t make sense together. It’s a sentence you never wanted to hear, and your limbs suddenly feel like they’ve been submerged in water, slow and heavy and dragging.

Namjoon, however, is up in an instant. “Where is he now?” he asks, throwing the door open and laying a hand on Jimin’s shoulder as he blabbers on. “Is he bleeding? Is he hurt anywhere else?”

“No, no—” Jimin looks close to tears. “It’s just—it all happened so fast. We were in Eonjin’s apartment but she wasn’t home, and then this guy came out of nowhere and—and…” He trails off, gesturing weakly behind him. “Look for yourselves.”

Yoongi and Jungkook stumble their way out of the building, supporting a pale-looking Taehyung between them. Blood drips down his wrist and onto the sidewalk, and the sight of the bright red liquid shakes off any stupor you might have been under. Delving into the backpack full of supplies from the farmhouse, you pull out the first-aid kit, brandishing it in the air as you jump out of the SUV. “He’s losing way too much blood,” you say, pulling out a roll of bandages and a tube of ointment, handing the rest of the kit over to Namjoon. “We have to stop it.”

“This isn’t exactly a safe spot for medical procedures,” Yoongi points out, gesturing around the street with his free hand. “We’re out in the open, totally exposed.”

“Then we’ll get back in the car,” Namjoon says. “We can drive and patch him up at the same time.”

“But he’s infected,” Jungkook whispers. “What happens when he… y’know. Turns?”

None of you have an answer for that. Jimin’s running his hands frantically through his hair, and you can practically see the desperation swimming in his honey brown eyes. “We can’t just leave him behind,” he murmurs. “We can’t.”

“Then we won’t,” you tell him, stepping up to Taehyung and slathering a generous amount of ointment on the bite wound. Then you pull off a short section of bandage, tying it around his upper arm like a tourniquet. “We’re going to get you in the car now, Tae. Is that okay? Can you still walk?”

Taehyung blinks dazedly, his brown eyes taking a few seconds to focus properly on you. “I… I think so. Hang on. Lemme try.”

Namjoon nearly drops the first-aid kit. “Wait, did you just talk?”

Taehyung blinks again, swaying slightly on his feet. “Yes?”

Your eyes widen as realization dawns. “Wait, but infected people can’t talk. Their vocal chords…”

“... deteriorate,” Namjoon finishes for you. “Yeah. So then that begs the question: why can Taehyung still talk?”

For the second time in as many minutes, none of you have an answer. “Tae,” you try again. “How do you feel right now?”

Taehyung’s mouth pulls down into a slow frown. “I feel… slow. A little muddled, I guess? No brain eating urges or anything though, which is nice. Brains probably don’t taste very good.”

“No,” you say, exchanging a glance with your equally flabbergasted companions. “I can’t imagine they would.”

///

Not twenty minutes later, you are driving across the bridge that leads to your final destination. A rather formidable wall with an even more formidable gate stands in your way, and you watch as several guards peer out from over the top, weapons drawn and at the ready.

“Stop right there!” the guard stationed on the ground commands, his gun trained on the SUV. “Get out of the vehicle with your hands up and identify yourselves one by one.”

“My name is Kim Namjoon,” Namjoon says, clambering out with his palms extended. You follow after him, stating your name as well, and the guard directs both of you to stand against the wall, calling for a man named Seokjin to come check your vitals as your companions continue introducing themselves.

A minute later, a smaller door to the right of the gate opens, and out walks a man wearing a white coat and a genial smile. “Sorry about this,” he says, adjusting his stethoscope. “Proper procedure and all that. You can never be too careful, right?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you tell him, pulling the collar of your shirt aside so he can listen to your heartbeat. “This is hardly the worst thing to happen to us in the last few days.”

The young doctor laughs—a high, squeaky sound that reminds you of a windshield wiper. “Touché,” he says, waving Namjoon over so he can listen to his heart as well. “Well, look at that! You both appear to be alive—congratulations! It’s nice to meet you.”

His laughter is contagious, and you can’t help the answering giggle that bubbles up in your chest and escapes into the open air. “Nice to meet you too, Doctor.”

He grimaces, flapping a hand at you. “Please, call me Jin. Everyone does. Doctor makes me sound way too stuffy.”

The sound of the familiar name has your eyebrows flying up into your hairline. You exchange a glance with Namjoon, who looks equally shocked, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he ventures, “Jin? Does that mean you’re one half of the 2J radio broadcast?”

Jin’s face splits into a delighted grin. “It sure does! Were you guys listening to us?”

You nod. “It was the only station we could find. I don’t think we’d be here if it weren’t for you and Jay.”

His grin broadens. “His real name’s Hoseok, actually—I had to talk him into the nickname. Took me ages.” Then his expression sobers. “That’s great to hear about the broadcast, though. Really. We weren’t sure that we were reaching people, but it’s nice to know that we definitely are. Thank you.”

“Thank you,” you tell him earnestly.

Jin grins. “You’re welcome,” he says, waving goodbye as he moves on to check on everyone else’s vitals. He makes friendly smalltalk with Yoongi, Jungkook, and Jimin as he listens to their heartbeats, but frowns when he reaches Taehyung, regarding him a little more closely. Jimin looks on anxiously, twisting the hem of his jacket, and you and Namjoon wordlessly sidle closer, ready to defend your friend if the need arose.

“You look a little pale,” Jin says, but his voice isn’t accusatory. “Are you feeling okay?”

Taehyung shrugs vaguely, his eyes unfocused. “I’ve been better.”

Namjoon chooses that moment to step forward, keeping his voice low and guarded. “Jin, you know a lot about the zombies, right?”

Jin nods. “I’ve been conducting research, yeah. It’s slow going though.”

Jimin eyes Jin warily. “What would you say if we told you that one of us was immune to the zombie virus?”

Jin’s mouth falls open, his gaze immediately landing on Taehyung again as he leans closer and stares intently at his pupils. “Immunity? Now that’s interesting,” he mumbles to himself, rubbing his hands together. “That could change everything.”

Taehyung blinks blearily at him. “What are you going on about?”

Jin just laughs. “They’re clear,” he calls to the guard, who nods and returns to the guardhouse. Once he’s gone, Jin claps his hands together and beams. “All right!” he exclaims. “Let’s get you all settled in, shall we?”

“What are you going to do to Tae?” Jimin asks suspiciously, scooting a little closer to his friend.

“Absolutely nothing, if I don’t have his permission,” Jin promises. “But guys, think about it. Someone who’s immune? I could learn so much about what’s causing that immunity if I ran a few tests… maybe even find a cure, eventually. It’s an incredible opportunity.” Upon seeing Jimin’s lingering distrust, however, he stops and laughs again. “But honestly, I won’t do a thing if he doesn’t want me to. Right now, I just want to help you get settled in. All of you need lots of rest and a proper meal. Doctor’s orders, okay?”

Jimin nods. “Fine.”

Up ahead, the gate is slowly beginning to creak open. Jin is welcoming all of you to Sonyeo City, but you barely hear him. Your focus is on Namjoon and Namjoon alone, his presence warm and reassuring as he finds your hand and laces your fingers together. 

“Ready?” he asks.

You suck in a deep, steadying breath and squeeze his hand. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

[philliamwrites]

i could make you need me all the time (pt.2)

Fandom: Persona 5

Pairing: Akira/Akechi

Tags: #justice rank 8 spoilers, #slight angst, #persona 5 royal spoilers, #new semester spoilers

Words: 3.4k

Summary: Akechi is counting numbered days, preparing himself for the end. Akira being himself doesn't help.

Note: Part 2 | Inspired by ‘Make it Holy’ by The Staves.

i could make you need me all the time

    Lavenza is not what Akechi has expected. Not that he’s expected anything specific in the first place, but a little child with golden eyes, staring at him with such an intense gaze that he is the one looking away first, is new. Akira being too prying for his own good is nothing new though. He stays after everyone leaves the nurse’s room, leaning against a white wall between two areca palms while watching Akechi on his quest to find band-aids he doesn’t even need.

    Nothing and everything changed after Christmas Eve.

    They aren’t fooling around in Save Rooms anymore. No one buys their ‘Forgot something and have to go back’-trick because no one leaves Akira and him alone for even a second. Akira thinks it’s rude. Akechi doesn’t really care. If possible, he doesn’t want to see him at all.

    “My sports uniform looks good on you,” Akira says. There’s a slight tilt to his voice Akechi’s heart always responds to with a little jolt—the eradicated-the-enemy-fashionably-tilt, the-I’m-your-rival-don’t-get-too-cocky-tilt, the post-orgasm-satisfied-tilt. Where once adrenaline shot through his body, only electricity remains that paralyses him.

    It’s the first time his body simply shuts down instead of running or fighting, effectively betraying him.

    Avoiding Akira is like trying to run away from a bee while wearing cologne that smells of pansies. It isn’t too evident in Maruki’s palace. Any slip-up means potentionally risking all their lives, so Akira approaches him for obligations only. Healing, consultation, strategy. Akechi lets him, always catching him staring at his ass though.

    Everything gets trickier when they’re in the real world. There’s only so long Akechi can hide in his cold one-room apartment, emptied by Shido’s henchmen at some point during his disappearance in December, before a phone call or message summons him to meet with the rest. He does want to defeat Maruki. He does not want to achieve it by pretending to be friends.

    “If you have time to simply stand there, why not use it to plan our next infiltration?” Akechi asks without looking back, pretending that rummaging through the cupboards requires his whole attention. He’s a man on a mission, adamant that if he only ignores Akira long enough, he’ll just lose interest like a child growing bored with their toys.

    He underestimates him.

    Again.

    “Morgana and the rest have that covered.” Footsteps draw closer. Akechi’s body tenses into one hard, solid muscle. “I’m here because there’s something we need to talk about.”

    “Is that so?” Akechi closes a cabinet door with a loud bang, marching to the other side of the room. “Because I have nothing to say to you.”

    There are million things he wants, maybe needs to say, but simply thinking about them closes Akechi’s throat off, choking him with this bitter taste of rotten glory and ruined dreams. He’d rather die than allow this weakness to take hold of him.

    “Akechi.”

    He ignores him, rummaging through a drawer that’s crammed full of snacks. No band-aids. He hates this place.

    “Akechi.”

    Dull pain throbs at the back of his head. He tells Robin Hood to make Loki stop, but silence in return reminds him that since the boiler room, Robin has been gone. It’s easy to forget that sometimes. It isn’t as easy falling asleep again after waking from a nightmare where he hears Robin’s atrocious screams still ringing in his head.

    He tears through the next drawer, refusing to think about anything else except band-aids, band-aids, band-aids, what shitty nurse room doesn’t have band-aids—

    “Goro.”

    Akira is so close; he feels his warm breath on the back of his neck.

    Fight, flight or stay to be devoured. Akechi barely turns his head, eyes creeping up slowly to Akira’s face. Being this close was never a problem before—Akechi has had enough time to count every single lash, black as spilt ink, cursing them curling like crescent moons and throwing long shadows over high, winged cheekbones he can draw with closed eyes on paper. This face is as familiar as his own. He’s seen it angry, laughing, frowning; wearing a wicked, cruel smile, contort in hot, all-consuming pleasure: slightly open mouth with pink, swollen lips, blushing, hot cheeks. Dead, empty eyes. Red, thick blood between slanted eyebrows.

    In his nightmares, Akechi hears Robin’s scared screams in the boiler room, and sees Akira’s slack face slam on the prosecutor’s desk.

    No. There really is nothing to say.

    “Goro?” Akira’s voice is barely a whisper. “You’re shaking.”

    If there is a time for his body to betray him, it isn’t now. Akechi turns away, his mission forgotten. Right now, he needs to get as far away from here as possible. Akechi never feared his mistakes to catch up to him some day, but Akira, alive and kicking Akira, proves him wrong over and over again. “If there’s nothing else, it’s time for me to go,” he says.

    He shoves Akira out of his way, quickly pulling his hand back as if burnt by this simple touch. He manages to cross the room halfway before Akira’s voice makes him stop.

    “Were you looking for this?”

    He turns around. Akira is holding a partially opened package of band-aids, presenting them like bait to prey that doesn’t know any better. Akechi wants to bare his teeth.

    “I’m not here to play games,” he hisses, stomping towards Akira who beelines towards him as well, approaching Akechi too fast. Two feet until they crash like stars and swallow everything. One foot until they collide like cars and explode into tiny, burning pieces. Before they set the room in flames, Akira halts.

    “Good,” he says and takes Akechi’s wrist—far gentler than he’d expected or liked, and leads him to the sitting area near the door where he can see the exit so close and yet so far. “Because I’m not playing.”

    Akechi clicks his tongue.

    He drops begrudgingly into an armchair, folding one leg over the other and crossing his arms. Akira knees down in front of him, just a few inches away from his legs. It reminds Akechi of a similar image several months ago, only he was still acting for an audience that never cared about him in the first place, and Akira was wearing a tight, black latex cop uniform.

    Only one of those things makes him want to go back to that time.

    “Let me,” Akira says, holding out one hand to Akechi like a knight asking for allowance to kiss his maiden’s fair hand.

    “I’m not a little kid,” Akechi hisses but it lacks its usual venom. Akira doesn’t pressure. Wordlessly, he waits, the inside of his palm lying open, vulnerable.

    Akechi stares daggers at it, hoping it will simply disappear. When the result disappoints, he takes the easy route and slaps his hand in Akira’s. “Just hurry up.”

    Akira hums. He’s inspecting Akechi’s hand, searching for the injury like a scientist looking for the answer of the afterlife. His hold is light like a feather, careful and hesitant, as if the universe granted him the honour to look after a priceless treasure that builds kingdoms and burns countries.

    “Where do you need it?”

    “I can do it on my own.”

    “Oh, I don’t doubt your abilities.” Fumbling with the bandage, Akira pulls his eyebrows together in concentration, a little smile flirting with his lips. Akechi knows it, the everything-is-a-game-to-me-smile but this time stakes are too high for him to join. “But humour me. Now, where do I put it on?”

    He glares at him. Seeing no way to win, he turns his hand, his palm fitting perfectly against Akira’s, showing the little, shallow cut on one finger.

    Akira stares at it, very unimpressed. “Are you an actual child?”

    Akechi pulls his hand away—too slow. Akira’s fingers latch around his wrist, holding him in place. “Wait, wait, I’m joking.”

    “You’re not funny,” Akechi replies drily. He watches Akira put a bandage around his finger, smoothing it out with his thumb.

    “This…” He digs his thumb slightly where the wound is, making it burn but Akechi doesn’t flinch. “… looks like a ring, doesn’t it?”

    Akechi raises one eyebrow. “It doesn’t.”

    “Like a wedding ring,” Akira continues as if he didn’t say anything. Akechi looks down at the band-aid around his ring finger. He feels too awake all of a sudden, yet extremely tired. Everything buzzes, from his head to his toes, and he can’t tell if it’s Maruki’s Actualized Happy World or Akira touching him or the fact that he should not be. He remains very still, like a corpse, and stares over Akira’s curly mop of hair at the mirror hanging at the opposite end of the room. Brown eyes stare back at him—unflinching, lifeless like the glassy eyes of a dead fish until he blinks and it’s just his normal, usual face.

    “Don’t tell me you’re entertaining the absurd idea of marriage,” he mocks, a crooked smile cutting his mouth into two red lines. “What are you, a lonely housewife in her thirties?”

    “What can I say, I’m a romantic at heart,” Akira answers. He isn’t smiling.

    Akechi’s grin dies. “If you have time to think about something this foolish, then there will be no problem in securing the path to the treasure tomorrow, right?” His voice sounds weird to his own ears. He feels sick.

    Finally, his hand is set free as Akira places it carefully on Akechi’s knee.

    “You’re smart enough to figure out where I’m going with this conversation,” Akira says, rising to his feet. He seems a little absent minded, his eyes unfocused and thoughts far away from this room. “Think about my proposal.”

    “Propo—” Akechi jumps to his feet, his ears buzzing with a swarm of angry bees. He’s so close to Akira, their chest almost touch. He smells it again: coffee, washing powder, sweat. No blood this time. It feels wrong. “I have no interest in entertaining this stupid idea.”

    “Do you hate it because it’s a social construct and divorce is way too expensive,” Akira asks, his eyes snapping back to Akechi and focusing with too much determination in them on him. “Or is it the thought of living with someone that allows you to be vulnerable that scares you.”

I’m not scared of anything, Akechi wants to say. What comes out instead is, “Why did you ask if you know the answer already?”

“Because I want to hear it from you. I want to know what you want.”

    What does Goro Akechi want? No one has asked him this before, so he’s taken aback a second, speechless. A lump grows in his throat, burning every time he swallows.

    “I don’t want someone else to decide how I live my life,” he says eventually. Slowly, word for word so Akira understands that what makes Goro Akechi the person he is, is something he was never allowed to have in the first place and the crave for it now is like craving air underwater. “I don’t want to be someone’s puppet.”

    Akira’s voice grows louder. “Then what do you want?”

    Akechi’s body shudders with rage. I want to live.

    He turns around, blinking furiously against the burning in his eyes. “We’re done talking. You can contact me if there are important things we need to discuss. That’s what I want.”

    There is no answer, but he knows he’s got his point across. Some people take Akira’s silence for what it is, when sometimes it speaks louder than his words. Right now, he feels it like a solid pressure against his skin, leaving dents and reshaping his body and he’s afraid to turn around and look in the mirror again.

    Marriage.

    Marriage with Akira Kurusu of all people.

    What an absolutely stupid, horrendous idea. What a horrifying dream and scary hope to plant into someone whose soil is home to maggots and vermin that only know the taste of blood. Akechi takes that seed and hides it somewhere deep, deep inside his chest where the dirt hasn’t reached; an almost forgotten place that still loves toy guns and collects Phoenix Ranger Featherman stickers to put them on his bento lunch box.

    That is the only part of himself he wishes Akira could get to know before the end as well.

[jouretnuit-nightandday]

on the verge of realization

Bumbleby Week Day 5 - Beacon Days

She doesn’t question it, the sense of familiarity, of unconditional safety, that comes with Yang’s presence, even though they’ve known each other for less than half a year, even though Blake’s promised herself she’d keep her distance this time, she’d be careful, lest she repeats past mistakes.

Team RWBY is having an early morning training session, and Blake finds herself distracted.

It’s very early - a couple hours before dawn - and quite chilly outside. The autumnal wind has a cruel bite to it, and Blake hugs her sweater, wishing she was wearing something a little warmer than her workout shorts. Around her, Beacon Academy is still and quiet. Most students are probably sound asleep in their dorm rooms, and Blake really misses her bed.

Beside her, Weiss stands straight, unhappy, clad in skintight leggings and a long-sleeved white workout shirt. “Where are they?” she grumbles, heel stomping petulantly against the ground.

Ruby asked them to meet in the central courtyard for an early training session - the Vytal Tournament starts tomorrow, and she wants the team to be in top shape - but neither her nor Yang have arrived yet. They were gone by the time Blake and Weiss left the dorm room, presumably to get something to eat.

“I swear, if this is some kind of prank….” Weiss starts. She’s interrupted by a flurry of rose petals, and the screeching sound of a fast-moving body coming to an abrupt halt.

“Morning!” Ruby shouts, appearing between them with the energy of someone who’s already consumed an unnecessary amount of sugar.

Blake winces at the volume. “Hey, Ruby. Where’s Yang?”

“Right here.” A familiar arm curls around her shoulders, and her partner steps next to her, drawing her in a side hug. Yang smells like coffee, and she feels warm against Blake, and for a minute Blake is overwhelmed with the desire to close her eyes and fall back to sleep.

(She doesn’t question it, the sense of familiarity, of unconditional safety, that comes with Yang’s presence, even though they’ve known each other for less than half a year, even though Blake’s promised herself she’d keep her distance this time, she’d be careful, lest she repeats past mistakes.)

“Alright team! Let’s do this!” Ruby says, cheerful as always, punctuating her words with a light punch to Weiss’s shoulder, which earns her a glare and a shove.

Right. Blake shakes herself out of her morning haze, rolling her neck. Yang lets her go, and they stand side by side listening to Ruby’s instructions.

Today’s program is nothing complex: some sparring, some stretching, some strength and speed exercises. And to start it all, an hour-long run throughout the school grounds. Weiss groans at that prospect, but Blake doesn’t mind. She likes running - how her lungs burn and her legs ache and how it sharpens her thoughts, helping her focus on the moment, and nothing else. After a few minutes of warm-up, Ruby takes the lead, and Weiss follows her, displeased but disciplined. Blake and Yang bring up the rear.

It’s quiet. Peaceful. The four of them are alone, apart from a few students hurrying towards the library, and a second-year team engaged in semblance practice in the West courtyard.

Blake and Yang don’t talk while they run, so the only sounds are the soft thump of their feet against the grass, and the regular rhythm of their breathing. From time to time, they knock elbows, or bump shoulders, and Yang grins at her. Every time, Blake smiles back.

(And that’s another thing she won’t question: the warmth filling her chest when Yang looks at her, like sunlight on her skin ; how easily they fall into pace with one another, like the tide and the moon. No, Blake won’t question it, and she won’t let herself dig too deep into the recesses of her heart. After all, this is only their first year. She has all the time in the world to figure it out.)

The sun rises, timid and pale, as they finish their run. Weiss lets herself fall on a stone bench - she’s breathing hard and fast, strands of white hair sticking to her temples. Sweat drips down Blake’s back, soaking her shirt, and she’s a little out of breath, but otherwise fine. Ruby smiles wide, and gives them all congratulatory high-fives.

“Yay, team RWBY! We’re gonna kick ass in the tournament!”

Blake smiles back, relishing in the sense of pride surging through her, while Yang cheerfully claps Weiss on the shoulder. She’s still not quite used to feeling accomplished after a training exercise. When Adam was her mentor, nothing was ever good enough. She was never good enough. If she closes her eyes, she can still hear his voice, disappointed and angry, she can still see the downward curve of his mouth, the dismissive snap of his fingers. But Ruby is nothing like him, Beacon is nothing like the White Fang, and sometimes it dawns on her: how different her life is, here, with these people. How much happier she is.

“Here,” Yang says, handing her a bottle of water.

“Thanks.”

As she drinks, she can’t help wondering how much of her newfound happiness she owes to Yang. She cherishes her bond with Ruby and Weiss, of course - and Jaune, Pyrrha, Ren, Nora, Sun, Neptune, Velvet… she’s met so many new friends, in so little time. But Yang is… well, she’s her partner, right? So that makes her different. Not more important, necessarily, just… different.

(She keeps feeling like she’s on the verge of a realization, these days, like something crucial is hovering at the edge of her awareness, and all it would take is the slightest push for her to grasp it.)

Blake swallows her last gulp of water, lost in thoughts, glancing at Yang absent-mindedly, and suddenly finds herself staring. Yang is busy wiping her face with the front of her tank top, and Blake can’t look away from the hard, flat plane of her lower stomach, the way her bare skin glistens with sweat, the sharp jut of her hipbones. She swallows again, hard. Her heartbeat quickens, though she’s no longer running, and when Yang looks up and notices her watching, Blake’s cheeks grow so hot she instinctively presses the cold bottle against her skin, in an attempt to cool off.

“You okay there, Belladonna?” Yang says, with a small knowing smirk that does nothing to help Blake’s flustered state.

“Fine,” she manages. The word comes out annoyingly strangled and Weiss narrows her eyes, frowning with something close to irritation, though by now Blake’s learned it usually covers genuine care.

“You do look weird. Are you coming down with something? Please stay away from me, I can’t afford to be sick this semester.”

“Guys. I’m fine.” This time Blake’s voice sounds firm, and Weiss visibly relents. Yang must take pity on her as well, because she doesn’t say anything else, instead pulling her hair up in a messy bun. Blake decidedly avoids looking at Yang’s arms. She’s embarrassed herself enough as it is.

Ruby claps her hands, bringing them back to the task. “Okay guys, rest is over. Next is hand-to-hand combat. Yang, you’re in charge, since you’re the best at it!”

Yang makes a fist, and slams it forcefully against the palm of her other hand. Weiss rolls her eyes at the display but gets up nonetheless, stretching her arms high above her head. “At least don’t blast your terrible pop music this time, Yang. Let us have peace and quiet while we suffer.”

“Whatever. You can pretend you hate my taste in music all you want, Ice Queen, but you’re the one I caught singing in the shower to…”

“Are we training or having a chat?” Weiss cuts her off, a murderous glint in her eyes, ears a little pink. Blake and Ruby exchange an amused glance, and Yang snorts, but lets it go.

They start with some stretching, then Yang has them repeating precise series of jabs and punches and kicks. The sun is now high in the sky, and it’s a beautiful, clear morning. They’ve chosen the isolated corner of a remote courtyard, far from the main part of campus, so no one bothers them. Which is for the best: unarmed hand-to-hand combat isn’t really Blake’s thing, and she needs all her concentration to mimic Yang’s movements. She’s doing better than Ruby and Weiss, but still, Yang often has to correct her stance, light hands pressing on her hips to get her to turn, or moving her arms to a different position.

It’s casual, practical, professional even, Blake knows it, and yet. And yet. She could swear every touch from Yang leaves a trace on her skin, a handprint, and her nerves flare like kindling catching fire. She’s just not used to being touched like that, Blake reasons, ignoring the craving in the bottom of her stomach. So what, if she’s starved for the kind of easy, affectionate closeness that comes with Yang’s friendship? It’s been a while, that’s all. It doesn’t mean anything.

The unexpected sting on the back of her thigh, just below her ass, makes her jump. Yang just gave her a smack, she realizes belatedly, not hard enough to really hurt, but certainly enough to get her attention. “Focus,” she scolds Blake, not unkindly. The hint of playful warning in her tone is somehow as distracting as her touch, and it takes all of Blake’s self-control to push down the sudden wave of vague yearning, teeth clenched.

Yang is right, she needs to focus, this is ridiculous. The tournament is tomorrow. She exhales through her nose, inhales deeply, and starts over.

“Great job,” Yang praises them eventually, when she deems that the practice has gone for long enough. “Now, let’s do some sparring. Partner up! The lightweights together,” she adds, pointing at Weiss and Ruby, who both hilariously make the exact same grumpy face, before turning towards Blake. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you.”

“You don’t have to,” Blake replies, mildly offended, before she can think better of it. “I can hold my own.”

Yang laughs. “Oh, we’re feeling confident today, huh? Alright. Belladonna. Let’s see what you got.”

Weiss sniggers at Blake, but promptly cuts it out when Ruby tackles her to the ground. “What the hell, Ruby?” she yelps. “Yang didn’t give us the signal!”

“In a real combat situation, nobody will be there to give you the green light,” Yang ponders, sagely, in a remarkable impression of Professor Port. “You always have to be ready to react!”

“I have been in real combat situations, thanks!” Weiss spits out, trying to no avail to dislodge Ruby from her back.

Blake bites the inside of her cheeks to stop herself from laughing at theirs antics and, seeing Yang distracted, takes a chance. She swings her left leg low, hoping to catch Yang’s ankles and make her fall. Yang jumps out of the way before Blake can even touch her, and grins, cocky.

“Nice try.”

Blake leaps, changing tactics, kicking high at Yang’s head with her right leg this time. Yang deflects the hit with a steady arm, and sends a curved left hook Blake’s way. Her knuckles graze Blake’s shoulder but she manages to dodge the brunt of it.

“Good,” Yang says. She raises both fists protectively in front of her face, and motions for Blake to come at her. “Try again.”

So Blake does. She throws kicks and punches, elbows and knees, and a few connect with Yang, but most of Blake’s efforts she evades, easily. It’s mesmerizing, watching Yang fight and turn and deflect and attack, feet light on the ground. Her body moves almost effortlessly, each of her hits powerful and precise. Blake’s eyes follow the ripple of muscles underneath Yang’s skin, fascinated by the strength and the control, and the beauty of it. Of her.

This time when Yang smacks her again, it’s right across Blake’s ass, and her hand lands much harder. Blake can’t help a little gasp, mouth opening in shock. It stings, but the sensation sends unexpected sparks down her lower stomach, and Blake really doesn’t know what to do with that.

“You’re still not focusing,” Yang says, raising an eyebrow, as if daring Blake to protest. Blake closes her mouth, cheeks burning. What is up with her today? She’s never been so distracted before. (She’s never been so distracted by Yang.) There’s something tugging, pulling, inside her chest, like a buried truth trying to burst through, but Blake’s too afraid to let it out. It’s dangerous, she knows, from experience, to look too closely at one’s heart.

Yang’s eyes soften, and she drops her guard, looking at Blake with caution. “Are you doing okay?” She takes a step forward, and hesitates, before placing her hand on Blake’s shoulder, very gently. “Are you stressed out about the tournament? Is something else on your mind? You can talk to me, you know.”

“I’m sorry,” Blake murmurs. There’s that feeling again, like she’s missing something important, something she should know. She grabs Yang’s hand in her own, and squeezes her fingers. “Thank you.”

Yang’s thumb brushes the back of her hand, tracing light circles on her skin. “What’s going on?” she asks, her voice low and serious. Then she smiles, lightening the mood. “Why are you being such a handful, Belladonna?”

Blake huffs, smiling despite herself. “I have no idea. Maybe you’re right, and I’m just anxious about the tournament tomorrow? I’m not sure. Sorry I’m being the worst partner,” she adds with a small apologetic shrug.

Yang shakes her head, and advances on her so fast there’s nothing Blake can do before she’s engulfed in Yang’s arms. It reminds her of an empty classroom, and another hug that took her by surprise. Sighing, she rests her hands around Yang’s strong back, and presses her forehead against Yang’s shoulder. Yang smells like sweat now, and coffee, still, underneath, and the laundry detergent they use at Beacon. Familiar and safe, inexplicably so.

“You could never be the worst partner, Blake,” Yang murmurs in her hair. “There’s nothing you could do that would make me think that.”

Blake nods, and tightens her hold around Yang’s waist, and, like a fool, believes her.

[kweebtrash]

Eres Mia (M)

Messy Chapter 8

Pairing(s): OC X Johnny

Genre: College AU, Fuckboy AU, Angst, Smut, a smidge of fluff/awkwardness

Summary: Fuckboys are basically good for one thing. You hit it and quit it- except when his voice draws you in, his body keeps you there, and dumb ass feelings linger making things particularly messy.

Warnings: mentions of drugs/alcohol, talks about suicide, the teeeeniest bit of violence, possibility of emotional manipulation, jealousy/possessiveness

Features: unprotected sex, creampies, rough fingering/finger sucking, oral/throat fucking, a little hint of bondage, rough hair grabbing, squirting, overstretching/gaping, daddy/princess dynamics, choking, relentless/brutal/deep thrusting, a bit of overstimulation/multiple orgasms, also being covered in cum

Word Count: 21,103K

A/N: So explanation about this chapter: It has some cultural references that maybe not everyone will get but I can explain them if anyone wants to send me a question about it. If you haven’t figured it out (or even just made a generalization) Eri is afro-carribean (the exact island is left vague on purpose, but it would be in the latinx part of the cluster). There’s also spanish in the chapter and tbh use google translate and if you still have problems again just message me.

Messy Masterlist   Buy me a Ko-Fi    Other Stories

The Boys Group Chat

Taeyong: 5

Lucas: what???

Ten: 5 what?

Taeyong: my score with Eri is at 5.

Lucas: HOLY FUCK

Taeil: OHHH HOW THE TABLES HAVE TURNED.

Ten: how?? When??? What???!

Taeyong: last night. Shower. Against the wall. In the bed twice. And our usual against the door.

Lucas: how tf did u manage that??

Lucas: i thought you hated her

Taeyong: i never hated her. It was just the drama and shit

Taeyong: like at the party i just didn’t want a fight to break out. i didn’t want the cops called or anything

Taeyong: so like i kicked her out but it was just because i knew she would have thrown the first punch

Lucas: well you aren’t really wrong

Lucas: i don’t blame you for not wanting the cops to show up

Taeyong: i had under 21 friends there. I didn’t want them to get in trouble

Ten: how did you even manage to get her to fuck you???

Taeyong: she called me actually. She was drunk af but sobered up before she got here

Ten: i cannot believe

Ten: i haven’t even been able to get with her AT ALL lately

Johnny: wtf is going on

Taeil: oooooooffff this is….

Ten: the tea brews itself

Johnny: Taeyong what did you say

Taeyong: i fucked your girl. She came to me instead of coming to you

Yuta: dude this is…

Johnny: don’t go near her again

Johnny: i mean it

Taeyong: dude i’m not scared of you

Taeyong: yall arent even official

Johnny: i don’t care

Johnny: dont touch her

Yuta: johnny quit it

Yuta: you can’t hog her to yourself

Yuta: just like jae can’t hog quinn

Ten: just admit ur jealous and move on.

Johnny: im not jealous

Johnny: you just dont deserve her after the stunt you pulled at the party

Taeyong: clearly i do because shes been thinking about fucking me for a long time

Taeyong: maybe even while shes been fucking you.

(Johnny has left the chat)

Ten: fuck

Yuta: this is getting fucking ridiculous

Yuta: i mean she texted me like when she was with him i think

Yuta: like she didnt care that she was with him and was being cute with me

Lucas: she flirts with everyone

Lucas: do you think she does actually wanna be with him?

Taeyong: who cares

Taeyong: fact of the matter is shes up for grabs

Taeyong: and if I wanna go after her i will

Yuta: WHOA WHOA

Yuta: you mean try and date her?

Ten: taeyong thats not a good idea

Taeyong: i never said id date her

Taeyong: but if shit happens, shit happens

Taeyong: thats all im saying

–

It was strange waking up in bed next to Taeyong. We had never done that before especially since the last time we were together we had to leave the office quickly. He looked strangely innocent when he slept, his shaggy hair ruffled and sticking up in random places and lips slightly pouted. I watched his chest rise and fall with each soft breath for a moment while I tried to keep my head from spinning. This…might have been a bad idea. I was in my feelings for Johnny and I knew that I only hooked up with Taeyong as a sort of rebound/revenge plot. I didn’t want to tell him that but I was sure we were still platonic enough that it didn’t matter. Taeyong wouldn’t make things weird or messy. This would just be a one time thing…or a five time thing. We may have gotten a bit carried away. He was tentative in the shower, making sure that I was still sober enough to be okay. He washed me, helped me wash my hair, and let the heated water run over me to warm me up. And when he slid down to wash my legs his lips met between my thighs and I couldn’t help but give in to his tongue.

He was no Taeil but he knew enough to make me try and steady myself against the slippery tile and grip onto his hair tightly. It was relaxing to finally get off by being eaten out, to just sit back and let him do all the work. It was definitely something I missed. After the shower, we dried off and he put me into some of his pjs (which were tight as all hell on me) and we relaxed in his bed. I got some more water in me and slowly weaned off the rest of the alcohol. Somewhere in the middle of trying to sleep we got lost in each other’s lips which somehow lead to him keeping me against his bedroom wall and fucking me as deep as he could go. Mid morning came and we didn’t want to get up. So of course the next option was to 69 then fuck me into the mattress. Just when I thought I would finally be able to leave he wouldn’t stop kissing me as I got to his bedroom door and we had a proper deja vu moment of last semester.

By the time I actually got home it was late at night and I was sore as all hell. I left him covered in hickies, scratches, and bite marks- my typical calling card- and he left me wanting to sleep for days. I collapsed on my bed unmoving for hours on end and barely making it to class the next day. Johnny was there of course and I tried my best to avoid him like the plague. That was always the hardest part. When we were on our highs, being next to each other radiated chemistry and we would rather pass the time sexting than paying attention. When we were on our lows, everything was ice cold and I detested even being within his vicinity. He still wouldn’t open up to me or even let me tell him that it was okay to cry. He didn’t need to worry about that with me. Of course he wouldn’t listen and we were stuck in a frozen tundra that didn’t let us move one way or the other. I tried my best to instead focus on studying for once. My grades were alright but they could definitely be better and I didn’t want to have to waste more money repeating classes. I spent my nights hitting the books and hoping I could retain enough information to pass. I was holed up in my room as usual when I heard knocking on the front door and i wondered if maybe Quinn forgot their keys. It seemed a little early for them to come home from being with Jae. I set my textbook down onto my desk and padded towards the living room. When I opened the door I hated what I saw.

His eyes were bright red and he reeked of menthol and weed. He leaned against the door frame, a big grin on his face that happiness didn’t seem to be the cause of. “What are you doing here?” I whispered in disbelief.

“What am i doing here?” He licked his lips and chuckled. “What are you doing fucking Taeyong?”

My eyes went wide. “Did he…did he tell you?”

“He told everyone in our chat. 5 times, huh? That a record or something?”

I backed away from him hating how he was acting and being hurt that what I did was blasted over some group chat. I couldn’t believe Taeyong would do something like that. I had stated plenty of times who i had hooked up with but it was on my terms, with my permission, not like gossiping around a watering hole. “You need to leave.” I swallowed hard and didn’t look at him. My voice was too unsteady for that.

I heard the door snap shut and looked up to find him looming over me. “Not a chance. Not until I make you forget all about that stupid bastard.”

He grabbed onto my sweater and pulled me towards him, easily overpowering me to crash his lips against mine. I clawed at his coat, digging into the soft fabric as I tried forcing myself away. I slammed the side of my fist into his chest and pushed him back. “NO! You don’t get to do this! You don’t get to come back into my life whenever you decide to! I’m not something to have at your convenience and I sure as hell don’t need you to keep leading me on.”

“Leading you on? Where am I leading you too?” His hands still had a hold of my neck and shoulders which I could not shake.

I could feel the tears already trying to come forth but i grounded myself, dug deep within me to stop them. “Leading me to you. I always get led back to you.”

“You don’t want to get led back to me.” He laughed. “I’m fuckin’ useless!”

I grabbed at his hands, wanting them off me. “Stop that! I’m not your fucking therapy and my purpose is not to fix you.”

“I don’t want to be fixed! I want to be fucked!”

“And that’s another layer to your goddamn problem, Johnny! Life isn’t all about diving into sex to make yourself forget! You need to reevaluate what’s going on in your life before you put your hands on someone else’s.”

“I don’t want you to have Taeyong on you.” He kissed me, gentler this time. “Or Lucas.” Another kiss. “Or Taeil.” A small lick. “Or Yuta.” He sucked on my bottom lip for a second before kissing me again. “Or anyone else.”

“You cant have me all to yourself. That isn’t how this works. You don’t want me, you only want what you see on the surface. You don’t give a shit about what’s beneath and you definitely don’t want to see it.”

He released me from his grasp and scoffed. “The surface? I’ve let you dig inside my brain more than anyone else in my life. You’re stuck inside there now, you can’t move. You know how sick i’ve felt, how weak i am, how less of a man i am-”

“Save that bullshit, Johnny! It’s not true! I told you it was okay to cry! It doesn’t mean you’re less of a man! It just means you’re a normal human being. Men can cry. Men can show emotion and they should. I just wanted to help…to be there for you.”

“You’re wrong. I’ve always had to be the man. There wasn’t any room for me to cry!” He screamed. “You want to talk about not wanting what’s beneath the surface? You’re already there, Eri. You’ve seen everything I could possibly hate to show anyone.”

“And yet you’re coming to me just so you can be buried inside something for an hour or two. That’s what it’s actually like to feel useless and discarded. I know you don’t fucking care and you never will.”

“This is starting to get messy…it’s a clusterfuck and it keeps growing.”

“You just keep fueling the fire.” I said. “I’m not going back. I can’t. My heart can’t take it. I hate seeing you like this. I hate hearing you like this and I want to help. I really do. But i can only take so much before you start swallowing me whole.”

He grabbed me again, pressing me against the door and trapping me between it and his body. “This is how you help.” His breath was heavy against my neck, tickling the sensitive skin there. I shuddered and failed to squirm away from him. “I know you’re not going to fix me. I can do that on my own, eventually, but right here, right now this is what I want.”

“Well i don’t.” The tears fell and i slammed my fist back against the door, pissed entirely that it was happening again. I shouldn’t be crying over him anymore. “I don’t want to be what you push inside of. You don’t want to know what’s really going on with me. You’d run away from me as much as I want to run from you.”

“You think i’d be scared of what you’ve done? What you’ve been through? Its nothing, Eri.” He grabbed my chin and and jerked my head to the side so he could growl in my ear. “I want you. Raw. Dirty.”

“You want me black out drunk? You want me with a broken hand through drywall? You want me bleeding out in a tub with a knife in my hand? You want me laying on the floor unable to breathe and falling in and out of consciousness? You want me running away from the one good thing i’ve ever had in my life?” My voice trembled again. “You want me hiding who i really am from my family? You want me watching myself be the cause of people’s hurt? Because that’s what’s really raw and dirty. Or do you just want to fuck as always?”

He hoisted me onto his waist suddenly, crushing me now to the point where i could barely breathe. I wrapped my legs around his as he shoved his forehead against mine. “Give me it. Give me all of it, Eri.”

I tried not to kiss him, i really did, but my heart shoved me towards it. My tongue slid out to creep into his mouth which he warmly accepted. It was angry, heated, rushed, and broken- like the entirety of our relationship. I was clutching onto him desperately as if I was trying to shock my system back into loathing him. It didn’t matter if I made drunken mistakes or if he made drugged out ones, every time, we somehow found a way back to each other as if we were tied with a string of fate. “Why?” I whispered when I finally caught my breath. “Why don’t you talk to me? For weeks at a time…it hurts…”

“Because i hate the way I feel about you.” He panted.

I licked my lips and hovered them over his. “How do you feel about me?”

He shook his head. “I…don’t worry about it. I’m faded as fuck right now. It won’t matter what I say.”

“Clearly it fucking does.”

“It’s only gonna get more fucked up between us.”

“It already is fucked up! Were fucked up! This whole shit is fucked up! We were supposed to hook up at the summer party and that’s it!!”

“Yeah and here you are fucking Taeyong and Yuta and whoever else you’d let inside you.”

I slapped him. The first time i’d ever wanted to hit him at all. I would’ve never laid a hand on him especially after all he had been through- i never wanted to be that person. Ever. But he crossed a fucking line and that small dangerous part of my brain was a ticking time bomb. He dropped me then and I fell right on my ass. I scrambled to get up as he stood there motionless.

“Dont…dont ever do that.” He whispered harshly.

“I didn’t want to! But don’t you ever come for who I sleep with! You don’t get to do that! You don’t get to be a hypocrite because you’re fucking jealous! What are you even jealous for? I’m not your girlfriend!”

“AND YOU NEVER WILL BE!”

I felt a stab of pain through my chest that hurt worse than anything I had ever felt before. Was this…was this what Jungwoo felt? Had karma finally come to get me and pay me back for what I did to him all those years ago? It felt like I couldn’t breathe but I could definitely feel the tears flowing down my cheeks like a river. His eyes went wide and he took a step towards me. I took one back before sprinting to my room. I slammed the door shut, pressing myself against it and sliding to the floor.

He pounded his fists against it, begging me to open it. I was afraid he was going to break through the wood with how hard he was rattling the door. I pulled my knees to my chest and buried my face in my thighs, staining my pajamas pants with tears.

“I-im sorry, ok?”

No you’re not.

“I didn’t mean for it to be like this.”

Well it is now, so fuck you.

“I don’t know what I really want, Eri.”

I guess…i don’t really know either. Should you even be my boyfriend at this point? What would I do once I had you? Would my fear of love go away? Or would you make it worse?

“I like when we spend time together. You’re cool as fuck but we…we cant be like that. You know that right? I don’t get with people and stay with them. We can only fuck…”

I hate you. Go away. Leave me alone.

“I guess i’m broken or whatever you want to call it but i’m not a charity case. I don’t want you to pity me or feel like you have to take care of me. Like you said, it’s not your job. But for right now…this is how I handle stuff, just like how you handle stuff your way, you know?”

By being a drunk partied out mess, i know. Hungry for attention, starving for someone to care for them, and completely barren of love but wanting to fill that void somehow.

“I’m not fine. I haven’t been fine for a long time. My anxiety never used to be this bad. I never even used to have night terrors or panic attacks. It just got worse after…after the first time i got…you know, what I told you about before. Then college happened and it was so much pressure and I wanted to make my mom proud and happy and take care of her because my dad never did. You know even when i felt so fucking empty around Rixi, i didn’t sleep for 2 whole days because I was studying my ass off for midterms just to keep my straight A’s?” He let out a soft chuckle. “I have a 4.0, hookup with dozens of girls, work three jobs, go to the gym, and try and do my art. When i say that i run on energy drinks and coffee i’m not kidding.”

That’s adding to your anxiety, stupid. And so is the weed. And your inability to FUCKING communicate. Why do you have to be such a stupid dumb….MAN all the time?!

“I know that doesn’t matter to you-”

It does because I know you’re hardworking and care about what you do. You’re a passionate soul and i love that about you. You’re so dedicated.

“But i dont know…i guess I wanted to tell you anyway. I’m not making excuses. I know what I do is my own damn fault but i just wanted you to know.”

I shifted slightly and reached up for the door handle, scooting away to pull it open slightly. I peeked my head through the gap and he looked at me, eyes a bit puffy as if he had been crying too. He wiped his nose and made it seem like he was put together in his typical Johnny fashion. I still didn’t say anything but he crept his hand closer to me and extended his pinky. I looked at it for a few seconds before locking mine around it. He was quiet for a bit, the tension remaining thick and heavy. The quietness was only interrupted by a few sniffles from the both of us. I wiped away at my tears, wanting to remind myself that this was proof. This was what always happened. Either i ended up drunk or ended up crying when it came to him. Or both for that matter.

I truly felt like i should continue to make myself suffer with him. One look of those soft brown eyes and honey-sweet lips would draw me in and his soothing voice would whisper caring thoughts and expressions. I saw the blushes he had when he talked to me, the way he seemed embarrassed or nervous, but there were always underlying signs that proved he didn’t like me. Most blatantly when he said-no, yelled- that i would never be his girlfriend. Logic told me to run. When had i ever put a man before me or anyone for that matter? Masochism told me that I enjoyed the pain of being rejected over and over again and that it was a game. Lust told me that i loved when he got jealous and growled in my ear. I wanted him to tell me that I was his as he fucked me so deep and hard that I couldn’t move. Greed told me that I wanted him all to myself. I wanted all the attention, all the love, all of him. The good, the bad, and the ugly. And rationality? That bitch was nowhere to be found.

“What saved you…when you tried to um…kill yourself?”

My head snapped up at the question. It hadn’t been posed to me since I met Quinn three years ago. It was something that I blocked from my brain and never reopened. But this was a test, to see if he could really handle what was fucking wrong with me. I squeezed his pinky tighter and finally croaked. “Daniella. She’s uh…she’s my little sister. I traumatized a 10 year old by bleeding out in a bathtub and she called the police and my mom. She tried to stop the bleeding. She cried but she kept pushing through. She was….so mature in that moment. More than I had ever been. She wanted to be there when they admitted me. My mom didn’t believe what was going on- more so in a sense that she didn’t want to believe that her kid was sick. Just like she didn’t want to believe I was gay at first. Eventually, she saw past it. She saw how much I needed her and how much we didn’t want to lose each other. But yeah…that was…it was Dani.”

“You know, her Quinceanera is in a week and I can’t believe she’s already 15. It’s weird how time flies…how I can’t exactly remember it all.” I continued.

“Are you going? To the party i mean.” He asked.

I nodded. “I have to. I’m like in the…so it’s basically almost like a bridal party. It’s real weird. But they pair us up and we walk down an aisle and Dani will come out with her big poofy dress and everyone will look at her and sing ’Las Mañanitas’ blah blah blah. It’s a precursor wedding and weird tradition I hated. So i never had one. And now, mom gets to put all her spite of her not having one and me not having one into an over the top expensive party for Dani, but you know…don’t help me with my student loans or anything.”

“Oh…sounds like a…journey.” I let out a small laugh and he crept closer towards the gap. I opened the door a little bit more. “It was my mom for me.”

“What?” I whispered.

“I was ready to jump off my school building after I got with her. I would see her everywhere on my social media and around town. I had to hide everything about how she made me feel and I felt like I just couldn’t deal with it anymore. I sat on the ledge for a long time, thinking about it and staring at the ground. Just as I decided I was going to jump, I got a text from my mom. It said ‘hi honey, hope you have a great day at school! I love you a lot.’” He rubbed at his eyes and looked away from me. “I still have it saved on my phone- transferred over each time I got a different one. I look at it sometimes when i feel like utter shit. Then I call her.” He sighed deeply and I pulled him closer to me, the door falling open wider. “Have I ever told you thank you?”

“W-what?” I asked, stunned.

“Thank you. For being there for me. When shit hit the fan basically. You and Jae pretty much helped me through a lot. Is that like…a part of working through this? Admitting when you’ve been helped?”

I nodded. “It’s a start…”

He got even closer and kissed me, our pinkies tightening and lips slow and steady. My will was wavering and I was kicking myself again. It never failed. I pulled away and turned my head away from his. He sighed and kissed my cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t make up for a lot of things, Johnny.”

“I know, princess. I know.”

“No, you don’t get to say that word to me anymore. That part is done. It’s only for people who know how to communicate.”

“Ok…” he said simply.

I let go of his hand and moved away from the door. He came through fully, sitting beside me now and set his arm around my waist. He kissed my temple then rested his chin on my shoulder. We stood quiet for a moment, trying to process everything. Nothing had gotten better at all. Everything was more confusing and more painful. I didn’t feel good and I didn’t want him here but at the same time I did. I looked over at his sad eyes, knowing he was truly sorry but still cementing the fact that I would never be his. Hurting was all I was good for and I accepted the karmic punishment.

I grabbed onto his shoulders and his eyes drew themselves to me. I laid nothing but whispers against his lips drawing him in to press himself against me and steal my breath away in a kiss. Gradually, our clothes began disappearing until we were naked in my bed, hands between each others thighs, stroking and thrusting until we were dirty with each other’s release. He didn’t let me go instead opting to grab my hips and keep me flush against me. “I want me on you. Not any of those assholes.”

“I’m not yours…”

“Tonight you are.” He dug his blunt nails into my hips and sunk his teeth into the base of my neck. It hurt with how hard he was biting down but I knew what he was doing; marking me so that whoever i was with next could see the deep bruise he was trying to leave behind. I clawed at his shoulders, whimpering pathetically and about to beg him to stop but he pulled away, pressing softer kisses to the deep marks instead. I shoved his head away seeing the playful smirk he had on his face.

“Ass…”

“You want a bite mark on your ass too?” he asked coyly.

I rolled my eyes and commanded him to get a towel to clean up the mess he made on my stomach. He gave me another kiss before scooting off the bed and heading towards my door. For a moment I thought I imagined it and had to blink twice but i saw him licking his fingers- the same ones that were inside me just a minute ago. He had never done that. Usually he’d wipe them on my sheets or something. I laid back and closed my eyes, tossing away any ideas of what that meant. I felt him on the bed again, gently wiping away his cum off my skin before laying himself between my thighs, his head on my chest. That also surprised me and i wished I knew what the fuck was going on in his head. Was it from all the weed? I didn’t really know how much he smoked before he got here. It could’ve been what helped set off his emotions and express his jealousy about Taeyong.

I wanted to pry at his stupid decisions and actions some more but I was slowly running out of energy to deal with arguing, anxiety, and my mood swings in such a short amount of time. I decided to lay in my self hatred with Johnny on top of me, our breaths flowing together into an easier rhythm. I closed my eyes and set my hand on his head. “Pet my hair.” He grumbled.

“You think that a half fuck is going to solve this?” I said, ignoring his request.

“No. We’re doing what we do best, hurting each other.”

“But why does it have to be like this?”

“Because it’s just who we are, Eri. It’s what we do. It’s how we function together. You want to call it off?”

“Call what off?”

“Being fuck buddies.” Yes was what I should have said. Instead, I shook my head and kept my eyes away from him. “Good…Because I don’t want to stop fucking you.”

“I don’t either…” I said softly. I ran my fingers through his hair now, pushing it back and feeling his sides that were grown out. "Remember when you asked me to feel alive?”

He nodded.

“Do that for me. Maybe me feel like I don’t fucking hate you for what you’ve done. Like i don’t want you more than I need to.”

He stilled against me and didn’t say anything. I could feel him looking at me and when I finally had the courage to meet his eyes I saw that he seemed to be hurt by my confession. Eventually, he mumbled a response. “I don’t want you to hate me.”

"Mostly i hate myself.” I hate myself for loving you.

“Dont, baby…” He turned my face towards his to continue our kiss. “You don’t need to hate yourself.”

“Just shut up, Johnny. Fuck me already.”

“Fine.” He growled and gave quick bites over my breast making me arch against him. I hissed slowly, gripping onto his shoulders and digging my nails into his skin. He morphed his bites into kisses, working to gather my nipple in his mouth to suck slowly but hungrily. Eventually, his kisses got even lower as he discarded my breasts in favor of moving down to the softness of my stomach. A little nibble beneath my rib cage jerked my body towards his mouth, edging my hips into eager swivels. I parted my lips to let out a sweet sigh and a small plead for him to keep going. His tongue dipped into my belly button, making me squirm against the wet heat. I inched my hands back to his hair to return him to my lips and stop his teasing but he had other plans. His hands suddenly came crashing down on my wrists, pinning them to the bed and practically crushing them. I winced at the pain and asked him to ease up but he only snapped at me.

“Shut up and don’t touch me, got it?”

“W-what are you doing?” I asked, nervously.

“Shut. Up.”

I squeezed my eyes shut tight, swallowing hard and full of worry more than sensuality. I tried taking deep breaths but I felt like I was getting more nervous. Johnny was quiet as ever but I could feel his breath tickling against my sensitivity. I licked the dryness from my lips and just as I was about to try and pull away from his hands I felt it. It was small and gentle, just the tip of his tongue working over my clit. My entire body tensed and I remained frozen in place. I feared scaring him, or worse, triggering him. We retreated into minutes of silence that made my heart race with worry. “J-Johnny? A-are you-?”

There were butterfly kisses to my clit before his tongue reached out once again. It covered the entirety of my lower lips, pressing a slick heat over me and gathering the cum left behind from his fingering to trail it back to my clit. He trapped the bit of nerves between his lips, suckling lightly. I knew he was being cautious due to nervousness and unease but it was also amazingly tender and sweet. I dug my teeth into my bottom lip and let out a moan hoping that he would take it as praise and a sign to continue. There was another long pause and my fingers curled in anticipation for more but there was nothing. I opened my eyes and looked down at him.

He was stationary, his eyes glancing over my center and lips trembling. The grip on my wrists got tighter, too tight for even my own liking. “Johnny…you need to let me go.” I said softly.

“No. I-i cant…”

“You can stop now, it’s ok but you’re hurting me. Come up here. Come kiss me, baby.” He looked defeated but saw the pain in my face and finally let my wrists go. I didn’t immediately shake out the numbing feeling and instead waited for him to crawl back up my torso. I held onto him as tight as I could, covering his lips, cheeks, neck in excited pecks. He did it. With me. It wasn’t complete or full or satisfying by any means but it meant so much. “You did so good, baby boy. So, so good.” I cooed.

He hid in my neck and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

I shook my head quickly. “Don’t be. It was good. A great start, ok?”

“I wanted to try…a little at least so you don’t feel like i did when we fucked in the bathroom at the party. You shouldn’t want to feel alive with me because you’re numb. I don’t want that at all.”

“I just wanna feel good is all…” I held onto him tighter. “I don’t want to feel like i’m going to be thrown away.”

“I-i wont…” He swiftly slipped out of the bed and returned with a condom on. He whispered as he pulled my legs around him, pressing himself at my entrance. “I wont…”

“But you can’t promise that.” I swallowed hard and felt him sink into me inch by inch. The rest of my thoughts were voided by the methodical pace of him stretching me open. He ignored what I had said and instead focused on kissing everywhere he could reach as he thrusted slowly. My hands traced the length of his spine, resting in the center of his back and keeping him close. Inside my head I pleaded for him to not go slow, to not be intimate and stir up more dreadful feelings inside the pit of my stomach. Please just fuck me so I can be reminded of how shitty you are. Don’t remind me of how cute and caring you can be. I’m begging you Johnny.

I knew he couldn’t hear me so of course he didn’t stop rolling his hips to have his cock hit every space within me. He was panting softly, gentle moans mixing in every once in awhile. They sounded so precious and I couldn’t help but bury myself in his lips again. His hand pulled mine away from his back just so our fingers could intertwine. Nonono, stop that. For the love of god don’t do this to me.

He squeezed my hand tight and I felt my tears resurface. This is what scared me the most. Not him leaving or him ignoring me or throwing me away. This Johnny, the human, sentimental, emotional man that could have me fall into his arms (and bed) at the snap of his fingers. I was helpless against him and I just craved more and more torture. He kissed away my tears and nudged our foreheads together. “Hey…it’s okay.” He breathed.

It is not okay. It will never be ok. But he took care of me, stilling every so often to regain his composure as i could feel him throbbing and ready for another release. Worst of all was that I wanted him too. I wanted him to feel good, another hurtful self sacrifice because I cared so much about him. I gave him a soft plea to cum for me, which he took instantly. His free hand slipped between us, his thumb pressing small acts of pleasure into my clit as his other hand never left mine. He only squeezed my fingers tighter while my walls squeezed him the same way. Just at the very end his hips made quicker snaps, hitting the back of my thighs and making my back arch from the mattress. And in one fell breath i felt my stomach heat up and the most comforting sensation flowing within me.

My cheeks flushed as I had never felt anything like it before and wondered what the hell did he do differently. Maybe it was because i was so damn love drunk that it made everything seem better when i was with him. It wasn’t until he jerked out of me so harshly that I snapped my thighs shut. “O-ow! Johnny, what the-”

“The condom broke.” He trembled.

“Excuse me?” I couldn’t believe what I had heard.

“Eri. The fucking condom broke.”

I looked down and could see his cum flowing out of me and staining the bed sheets, while the rubber had a slight tear across the tip. Our eyes met and panic slammed into me at full speed. “O-oh my fucking god. Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god.”

“You’re on birth control right?” His voice was an octave or two higher.

“Well no shit! But it doesn’t magically mean it’s 100% full proof! People still get pregnant while on birth control.”

“I’M FULLY AWARE OF THAT ERI.”

“DON’T YELL AT ME.”

“I’M SORRY I JUST…” I noticed him staring at me which made me more uncomfortable.

“What? What else is wrong?” He shrugged but continued to stare. “Johnny. What is it?!”

“Nothing! It’s just…i mean-”

“Oh, you asshole!!” I flung my pillow straight at his face. “I’m literally fucking panicking and you think cumming inside me is hot!!”

“I’M SORRY!!! I’ve never done it before and it just…looks good, ok?!”

“You are the absolute worse and I CANNOT stand you!” I covered my face that was getting heated up by the second. How could he think about that while I was panicking? How could I think it felt good and perfect when i absolutely loathed cum (and was panicking)? We truly were fucking stupid.

“Hey, we’ll be ok. I know we will.” He said softly, reaching for my hand which i pulled away.

“Easy for you to say. You have the easy way out in case that happens.” I grumbled.

He kissed my forehead and laid beside me. “No I don’t, because I wouldn’t leave.”

I turned away from him, shoving my face into the mattress as I felt his cum sticky between my thighs. “Yeah right…”

“I’m serious….i’m not gonna be like my dad.”

“Alright well, we’re gonna stop talking about this. I’m gonna shower and you can go home so I can die in peace.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. You’re not gonna die. It’s just cum.”

“I’m gay! All I am is dramatic!” I huffed as I felt all flustered now and wanted to get away from him. I stood up and cringed at the feeling of it sliding down my leg now. I awkwardly shuffled to pick up my already cum covered towel just to keep me decent enough to get to the bathroom.

“Can you stop saying that? Because i’m like…not a girl.”

I looked back at him. “Well no fucking shit, Johnny. It’s just a blanket term because you wouldn’t understand everything I identify as. Just roll with it. I don’t have time to explain.”

I grabbed my phone and went to the bathroom, locking the door tight. I tossed off my towel and turned on the water, sitting in the tub under the spray so i could suffer in silence. Eventually i ended up plugging the drain so i could sit in hot water for a bit and try and calm my nerves. I tried calling Quinn but didn’t get an answer, even texted them and still got nothing. They were still probably up Jaehyun’s ass or Taeil or someone else. I don’t know. I dialed again and waited patiently.

“Hello?”

“Doyoung, I need you please.”

“Be right there.”

He hung up as that was all he needed to know that something was wrong. I washed up, making sure to get as much of the cum out of me as possible, then rinsed and dried off. As i opened the bathroom door, Johnny was standing in the doorway, hand raised as he was going to knock. I glared at the lit blunt between his lips.

“’M leavin’.”

“Good. Bye. I have someone else coming over.”

He scoffed. “Wow. Okay. Fuck you too.” He turned away from me and headed towards my front door slamming it harshly behind him.

He made me so fucking irritated with his hot and cold bullshit. I trudged to my room and tossed my towel in the hamper, picking up my discarded pajamas and putting them back on. Around 15 or so minutes later Doyoung was in my room with an absolute cringey look on his face. “Look, i’m sorry but i needed someone to tell. You and Quinn are my closest friends and they’re not here. Please Doyoung…i know it’s gross.”

“You liked it…” he whispered.

“Please don’t remind me. I hate myself completely.”

“Why do you keep doing this, Eri? You are literally worth more than that.”

“I don’t know! I wish I knew. I wish I could just leave him but I can’t. Every time I’m mad, he shows me that side of him that I absolutely love.”

“That’s emotional manipulation.”

“It is not!” I protested. “Well…uh…maybe it is? But I don’t think he would be doing it intentionally? Why would he? He can get with anyone. He has gotten with a lot of people. I don’t think I would be any different. After all he blatantly said i’d never be his girlfriend.”

“And how did you feel about that?”

“I cried. Instantly. It hurt so fucking bad.”

“So we’ve come to the conclusion that a) he’s a fuckboy, b) he doesn’t want to be with you, c) he’s emotionally manipulative, and d) he couldn’t care less about what transpired tonight.” Doyoung gave me a shady look which made me shrink away like a scolded puppy.

“Well technically he said he would be there for me and then I kicked him out so…”

“And now you’re sticking up for him?”

“I’m not! I’m just stating facts. Doyoung, i know you’re totally and completely right. But i just…it feels weird. It feels different somehow.”

“I’m kind of sick of giving you advice and you ignoring it. It makes it seem like you don’t even care what I say.”

“No i do!” I grabbed onto his arm, sadly. “I do! i swear! I’m just a fucking idiot. I like to fuck up everything and keep myself down.”

“Why can’t you see that there are better people for you? Even ones that are right in front of you?”

I rested my head on his shoulder and set my hand in his, squeezing tight. “Doyoung, how can I…how can I stop when i love him?”

“It’s not easy to stop loving someone but…no offense- well a little offense because this is going to be hard to hear- you stopped loving Jungwoo because he loved you too much, you can stop loving Johnny because you love him too much too. You can run away and leave without giving him any explanation.”

I pulled away from Doyoung completely.

“I’m sorry for saying that and hurting you, but maybe it’s the kind of shit you need to snap out of it.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “And if you’re so worried about what might happen I can go to the pharmacy for you.”

“I-i just need time to think…” i said quietly.

“Well, you’ve got three days until it’s ineffective-or less effective or whatever. You can let me know ok?”

I nodded and felt him crush me to his chest. I held onto him for a long time, happy to feel a friends pure love rather than the tainted mess from my heart.

–

Johnny’s POV

“FUCKING SHIT!” I threw the beer bottle I just finished against my wall, watching it shatter into pieces. What the actual fuck just happened between Eri and I? Tonight was fucked up- no, beyond fucked up to the point where I just ended up more confused and angry then I was before. I paced back and forth across my room while thoughts zoomed in my brain. I tried to break everything down and figure out what i could so I could attempt to get my mind straight.

I was pissed off at Taeyong. He was such a smug little fuck about hooking up with Eri, blasting it all over the chat. And why were they counting how many times they hooked up with her like it was some sort of game? I didn’t want him anywhere near Eri. She was mi-. I stopped pacing for a moment. She wasn’t mine. She is not yours Johnny. She is NOT yours.

My pacing resumed. He didn’t deserve to touch her. And neither did those other assholes. I wanted her to myself. She’s mi-. As i grew close to the door i slammed my head against it, not too hard but enough to try and get it through my skull that Eri was not mine.

I had told her she would never be my girlfriend because I was angry. I knew it hurt her the second it came out of my mouth and I wished I could’ve taken it back. Our conversation was so back and forth she probably thought I was crazy. One minute I was mad, the other I wanted to be with her, comfort her, be inside her and make her feel good. I didn’t want her to feel like shit because of me but I was failing horribly.

What even possessed me to touch her like that? So slow and gentle? It felt like I was having an out of body experience and I watched who I wanted to be for her come out and take over. It was what I wanted to give her for the longest time. Something more stable to hold onto rather than whatever the fuck I was now. But that didn’t go over so well for my feelings. I was faded and more emotional than ever, a bad combination. I wanted to tell her what I felt for her but i don’t even think i’m too sure myself. Feelings were there but what kind? Did I have a crush? I liked her? Wanted to keep being fuck buddies? Did I love her? My body shuddered at the thought. I had never been in love before so how could I know?

I’ve always wanted to be in love and have someone to care about. I knew familiar love and friendship love but not romantic love. I wanted to take my girlfriend to the beach, to Korea, to visit countries across the globe. Take pictures of us for vacation scrapbooks and eat everything we could ever dream of. Go hiking with her and hold her hand so she wouldn’t trip on a branch and hurt herself. Laugh when we thought of a memory we had together or hold her as she cried. But i was also scared shitless of all of that. Could I even be that good of a person to her? I didn’t want to end up being a carbon copy of my dad. Why would I want to be the cause of my love’s suffering and leave them behind with a kid I didn’t care about?

Fuck.

The stupid condom.

I tossed myself onto my bed and groaned. I was scared of that too. I’m only 23 and work at a fucking coffee shop, what the hell was I gonna do with a kid? I’m sure we were gonna be okay but…it still made me a little queasy. Except for the fact that I thought cumming inside her was fucking hot. I was a complete jackass for thinking about it at a time like that but I couldn’t help it. Like me: worried to all hell and back about the condom breaking, also me: holy hell I want to do it again. I facepalmed myself and let out another frustrated groan. I was ready to just throw myself out a window rather than face my embarrassment and mistakes. Now Taeyong was probably going to be up her ass and I swear to god if he got with her I was personally going to go to his apartment and kick his ass.

I sat up and started taking off my clothes, figuring I could just sleep all this shit away and ignore it. I flung everything to a corner of my room and reached over to shut off my desk lamp. I noticed my little keychain that I had got at the bookstore resting on the desk. I picked it up and shut off the light before snuggling deep under the blankets. I kept the keychain close to me thinking of nothing but Eri as I went to sleep.

A week had passed since that weird half fight/half fuck between us and I was starting to get a taste of my own medicine. I hated not hearing from her and I found myself constantly checking my phone to see if by chance I missed anything. She hadn’t even posted on any of her social media that I followed her on. Whenever I would hang out with the guys at lunch none of them talked about her, not even Lucas. I had no idea what was going on. I tried to keep myself busy with school work but found myself thinking of her more than I needed too. Sometimes those thoughts implanted little sinister buds of sinfully delicious fantasies and in the midst of being hurt and confused about where we stood I was jacking off to thoughts of her more than I needed too. It was multiple times a day, whenever I was at home and it was starting to get on my nerves. I shouldn’t have been thinking about her like that when I was the cause of most of this mess but it couldn’t be helped. I was a stupid slut and would rather focus on that then the pain I caused her. I was in the middle of rutting against my hand and mattress only a few seconds away from cumming when my phone beside my pillow lit up. The brightness in the darkness of my room distracted me and I look at the screen, ready to ignore the notification until I saw who it was from. I wiped my hand on my sheets and snatched my phone up, unlocking it and going to the message.

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: hey

I typed in my simple response quickly.

Hey

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: come over

Fuck…did she actually want to hook up?

What for babe?

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇:  we need to talk.

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: asap

Talk about what?

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: come over and i’ll tell u dumbass

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: I mean it

Give me like 15 mins. Im busy

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: fine but dont keep me waiting.

I bit my lip and set my phone aside. It made me nervous to think about what she wanted to talk with me about. A small part of me was hoping that I could still get laid and have amazing makeup sex. But first…

–

Eri’s POV

I hated that I had to do this. With every fiber in my entire being. It was definitely up there with one of the worst decisions I would have to make. I didn’t want to talk to him or even make him think that I had forgiven him. I had purposefully ignored him like he had done to me so many times before. Even when he sent me the occasional text I left him on read. It felt good to have that power but I had to cut my reign of terror short when I realized that my problem needed a solution and fast. Time was running out and I exhausted all my resources. I knew I was going to regret this but it had to be done. My stomach was in knots as I waited for him. 15 minutes was a lie, it was over a half hour before he showed up at my place. His hair was damp and he smelled of fresh cologne and soap. I stared at him quizzically when I opened the door. He smiled at me, looking like he was happy to see me while I was mortified to see him. He wasn’t wearing anything fancy either. Just a white crew neck and some skinny jeans and winter coat but he still looked so damn good. Stupid fucker.

“Sooo…” he started, chewing on his bottom lip a little bit. I yanked him into my apartment and dragged him towards my room, slamming the door behind us. “Oh shit, ok.” He grabbed at his shirt, about to take it off when I stopped him.

“No! None of that!” I swatted at his hands. “That’s not what I called you over here for.”

“Oh…” he said, dejected.

I rolled my eyes. “Look, i don’t have any other choice. You were the last person on my list, so don’t like flatter yourself.”

“What is going on? You’re making me suspicious.”

I sighed. “Will you be my boyfriend?” Oh jesus christ no, not what I meant!!

“Excuse me WHAT?!” He screamed.

“AHHH FUCK, I MEANT PRETEND. PREEEETENND. PRETEND TO BE MY BOYFRIEND!!” I tried to correct myself.

“AGAIN, WHAT, AND I CANT STRESS THIS ENOUGH, THE FUCK?!”

“Ugh! Okay okay, back peddling.” I took a deep breath trying not to fuck this up even more than I already had. “Just hear me out ok?”

“You better start talking asap, bro!”

“I need someone to come with me to my sister’s Quinceanera this weekend. I have literally asked every single one of my guy friends and they’re all "conveniently” busy. I seriously need help.“

"Why can’t you take Quinn or something?!”

I sighed. “Johnny, if I show up with a girl as my date my grandparents would disown me and it would make a huge scene at the party and I can’t take that away from Dani. My family has this thing where they obsess over asking me if I have a boyfriend or not. I’m the oldest cousin so according to them I should be married and pregnant by now. My mom tries her best to keep them at bay but if I just show up with someone they will at least be civil for this party. Please. I don’t have anyone else. I wouldn’t be asking you this if it wasn’t a huge deal for me.”

“Well that sounds like a personal problem. Sucks to suck.”

I was shocked that that was actually his response. It was a good effort I guess but I was stuck doing this alone. I hoped to all hell nothing would happen that would ruin this for my little sister. It was completely stupid that my family judged me based on who I loved or wanted to be with, that every question about my life had to revolve around me having a man. It always started with a blanket question, one that seemed innocent enough, but then veered into “when will you get a boyfriend?” territory. Not only that but I still had to be on the down low whenever I was with them. Dani knew and so did my mom who was still working to be supportive but that was it. I knew I couldn’t tell other people in my family. If I went alone I could just suck it up and be miserable the whole time which at this point looked to be my only option. “Sorry to bother you…” I said as i sat down at my desk. I lowered my head onto the top and tried to figure out a way to smooth things over with my family for one night.

“Eri…is this really that serious?”

I raised my head up and looked at him. “Yes. I just want things to go right with this, for her sake. I’m literally the black sheep of the family. I’m darker than everyone, my hair is curlier, i’m queer, i play in a heavy metal band, i’m not ultra feminine, and i’m as far away from traditional as possible.” I tried again to convince him. It was turning out to be more pathetic than I hoped for. “I will promise, like absolutely promise, to be nice and civil with you if you do this for me. Please Johnny?”

“What do I get in return?”

I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Whatever you want. I’m too desperate to fight you on this.”

“Anything I want? You’re serious?” He asked. I could almost see the deviousness going on in his head and instantly regretted it. But I swallowed my pride.

“Anything.”

“Ok. I’ll think about what I want and let you know. I gotta dress up or something?”

“So you’ll do it?” I practically jumped out of my chair.

“Yeah, i’ll do it.”

“Fuck, you stupid bastard! You’re the best!” I threw myself on him, wrapping my arms around his neck in a tight hug. “It’s tomorrow night. We have to drive two hours to get to where I live. It won’t end until late so we can get a motel if we’re too tired to drive back.”

“A motel, huh?”

“Don’t even start, please.” I went to pull away but he set his hand on the small of my back, keeping me close.

“Tell me what you want me to do.” He lowered his head towards mine, getting dangerously close to my lips. I swallowed hard.

“W-well…wear something nice and don’t be an asshole. Um…pretend like I’m the greatest thing to ever grace your life? Hold my hand or something…or hold me in general. Follow all my lies and try to remember them. Be prepared to be grilled by every woman in my family and subject to a bunch of sexist and misogynistic comments from my stupid uncles. They’ll be some kids there running around and loud ass music. Um…you may have to dance with me.”

“Oof…I’m not a great dancer.”

“It’s fine, i don’t dance much either. Oh and don’t get drunk. Oh! And don’t let me get drunk. I think that’s the gist of it. I may think of other stuff on the way there. Is that all ok?”

He cupped my face in his hand while the other held mine. He lowered himself to my lips and kissed me gently, barely teasing my tongue with his own and making my heart feel like it was about to burst. When he pulled away my lips kept following him not wanting to let go. He chuckled softly and looked directly at me. “Mi amor, siento que no puedo vivir sin ti.”

I shoved him away. “BITCH, WHAT THE FUCK?!”

He cackled loudly, clutching at his stomach. “Is that “boyfriend” enough for you?”

“Where the hell did you pull that from?!”

“You said it’s a Quinceanera right? I figured I could put my 6 years of Spanish class to good use. How’d I do?” He was still laughing up a storm while I was ready to call off the whole thing. I couldn’t believe he would be able to possibly understand my stupid family.

“How much do you know?” I asked.

“Enough. I’ll mess up every now and again but I think i could pull off a conversation if I needed to.”

“Christ. Ok…If they say something to you just pretend you don’t know anything. I know they’re gonna talk shit and then you can come back and tell me. That’s all we’re gonna do, ok? Ok. I’m gonna throw up.”

“Why? I won’t mess this up, okay? I know she’s important to you. We’ll be civil remember?”

I looked up at him and nodded. “Thank you, Johnny. Seriously.”

He shrugged and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “It’s cool. So what time is my hot date picking me up?”

“Probably around 4, i’m sure I’ll need to help set up and stuff. And help with makeup. We can get dressed at the motel because I do not want to walk in heels in the snow and i also don’t want to mess up my dress. Where I live my mom said that the snow is more melted and they have clearer sidewalks so I should be good there.”

“Alright, sounds good…so…what’s our plan for tonight?”

I raised my brow, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I came all the way here and I figured we might…We could practice for being a couple tomorrow.”

“You’re going to give me a bunch of hickies and I can’t have that.”

“That’s the pot calling the kettle black. All you do is bite and scratch like a little chihuahua.” He laughed.

I stomped my foot down and huffed. “I am not a little chihuahua!”

“How about I make them where everyone can’t see? Then we won’t have any problems, hmm?”

I crossed my arms and pursed my lips together, hating how devilishly convincing he could be. He was a natural born flirt and it made me want to punch him. I nibbled my bottom lip contemplating if I should really give him the satisfaction. He pulled his coat off and yanked his shirt over his head, showing me his perfectly toned chest and how low slung his jeans were. Asshole. I grabbed onto the waistband of his jeans and pulled him close so we could crash our lips together. He pushed me back onto the bed and crawled on top of me, shoving his tongue past my teeth and coaxing me to moan in his mouth. I grabbed onto his shoulders and shoved him down so I could roll on top of him. “What’s the real reason you were late?” I asked as I dug my nails into his stomach.

“Jacking off.” He grabbed at my tshirt and tried pulled it up but I shoved his hands away and pinned his wrists down.

“I knew it, pig.”

“You act like you don’t do it. How many times have you showed me what you like doing when you’re alone, hmm? When we facetime and I call you late at night?” He teased.

“Shut up, Johnny. You’re so fucking annoying.” I dove my head down to bite at his chest, leaving harsh kisses in my wake. He tried moving his hands but i kept him pinned, liking the fact that he was the one squirming for once. I moved just a bit lower to land a few bites before licking through the center of his chest and up his throat. His entire body practically caved in on itself with how hard he shuddered.

“Fu-fuck…” He licked his lips and tossed his head back, moaning deeply. I blushed as I watched, feeling myself become victim to how good he looked. I resisted the urge to suck on his neck and went back to his chest, taking his nipple into my mouth. I knew this would truly make him squirm but i didn’t expect how hard his hips would buck. I moved my head away from him to over hover his face.

“You’re not being a very good boy are you?”

He opened one eye to glare at me. “When am I ever?”

“I think I should stop. I’ve got a lot to do tomorrow.”

“Oh don’t you play that game with me, Eri! That’s not fair!”

I moved away from him completely and made my way over to open my bedroom door. “Out.”

He sad up with an incredulous look on his face. “You’re kidding?!”

“You’re being bad so you get nothing. C'mon now.”

“I’ll be good then! Whatever the fuck that means!”

I shook my head. “I’ll pick you up at 4, ok?”

“Fuckin’ hell!” He got up, his jeans visibly tighter and pulled his shirt back over his head. He grabbed his coat and made his way out of my room with the biggest pout on his face. Just as he had stepped out of the door frame he turned back to me. “Can I ask you something?” He propped his forearm above his head on the frame and looked down at me.

“What?”

“Besides us freaking out…did you…did you like it when I came inside you?

My entire face felt like it was on fire and took a step back as if that would somehow prevent him from seeing my embarrassment. "I-i-i-i have n-noooo idea what you’re t-talking about!” I stuttered.

“I mean, did you like the way it felt inside you? Like how hot or how deep it was?”

“Please stop talking!” My voice was now a squeaky whisper.

Johnny smirked and ran his tongue over his teeth. “I guess that answers my question, doesn’t it? See ya tomorrow, Eri. And don’t forget, you owe me one.” He winked at me and headed towards my front door, leaving me more flustered than ever.

–

I spent the whole two hour ride telling him about which one of my aunts would grill him the most and which cousin got pregnant first and who’s baby daddy was a complete failure and which of my uncles was most likely to get drunk and cause a scene. I was sure he wouldn’t remember any of it but I was trying to over prepare him for the shit show that was my family. I also needed him to make a good impression so it would look like he was actually happy to be dating me. Fake dating me of course. We checked into the motel first and I spent most of my time being frustrated with my hair and trying to curl it the way I wanted it. It just barely cooperated and i wasted about half a can of hairspray trying to keep everything in place.

My makeup was more softer and neutral than normal to go with my pastel pink floor length sweetheart neckline dress (which made me feel lowkey so pretty). Dani’s theme colors were pink and mint so I was able to at least wear something I would like. Just as i had slipped on my gown i realized there was no way I could reach the zipper in the back. I huffed and squirmed, trying my damndest until I finally gave up. I opened the bathroom door just a crack and peeked out. My heart basically exploded and I wouldn’t normally say that my basement could flood in two seconds but this was definitely one of those times.

Johnny was checking himself out in the large mirror on the other side of the room. He wore black pinstripe pants that hugged his ass like a dream. The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled to the elbows and a fitted grey vest covered his torso. He adjusted the black tie around his neck, fussing with it until he seemed comfortable enough. He had an extremely nice watch on one wrist and a silver chain bracelet on the other. A few simple rings decorated his fingers and his black dress shoes seemed to sparkle in the fluorescent lighting. His hair was even freshly faded and his bangs trimmed and slicked back. Lord have mercy I wanted to die. I swallowed hard and took a few deep breaths before I called out to him.

His honey brown eyes shot up to look at me and I gripped the handle of the bathroom door tighter. “What?”

“Could you um…help me zip my dress?”

He sauntered over to me I tried to keep myself within the tiny gap of the open door but he pushed it open leaving me exposed to all of his handsome glory. He found the zipper and slid it up slowly, making sure the fabric didn’t get caught in it. “Do you want me to tie the sash thing too?” I nodded meekly and felt his hands smooth over the fabric under my chest and slide back to gather the ends to tie into a bow. It was such a simple thing to do but it had my body turning warmer by the second. I caught him looking at me in the reflection of the mirror above the sink once he was done. He looked shocked, licking his lips as if he was trying to say something but not being able to get anything out. I turned my head back towards him.

“Do I…do I look okay?”

He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. “Yeah, you look alright.”

“Oh…” I said softly. Just alright.

“I mean like you look good, you know? Um…yeah, real good.”

I avoided looking at him as I slipped out the bathroom. I didn’t have that much time left before we had to head over and I still had to wiggle my feet into heels that I was sure would break my ankles as soon as I got into them. I struggled to get them strapped around my ankles, huffing when my boobs got in my way as I doubled over to reach my feet. I sat down at the small desk and tried to angle myself another way but it was still just as frustrating. “Need help with that too?” He asked.

I nodded, defeated and he came in front of me, landing on one knee. He slid my dress up to my thigh and took my foot in his hands, delicately securing the straps around my ankle. I couldn’t help but feel like Cinderella in that moment, even if my so called prince charming was a fuck boy. “Thanks.” I said softly as I stood up. He rose to his feet too and it was weird to almost be face to face with him, instead of staring at his chest.

“Oh, i don’t like this.” He joked. “I’d like you to stay mini sized.”

“Yeah well they won’t be on for long. They’re already killing me. I just need to get through the walk and first dance and then i’m tossing them.” I nibbled my lip for a moment before pressing them to his, which seemed to catch him a little off guard. “Hmm, it’s nice to not have to stand on my tiptoes to kiss you.”

“Hm, let’s hope that walk goes fast. I don’t like those heels either.” He smiled at me and offered his arm. “Ready now?”

I grabbed my clutch from atop the desk and nodded. “You have the room key right?”

“Yep.” We headed out of the room and towards the parking lot to my car. “You know, the pastel pink is really nice with your skin tone.”

I straightened up at his compliment. “You really think so?”

He opened the door to my car and lead me to sit down. “I know so.”

I laughed nervously. “A-are you practicing your boyfriend skills?” I tried to make it sound like a joke but he just shrugged and went over to the passenger side to get in. I swallowed hard and clicked my seat belt into place before revving up the engine. “Oh, remember how I said if I told you my government name I’d have to kill you?”

“Yeah?”

“Well you’re going to hear it tonight and if you so much as ever repeat it you won’t have a dick, got it?”

“Why not? It can’t be that bad!”

“Trust me, it definitely is.”

–

“ERIANNALISSE!”

I cringed. I cringed hard and wanted to shrink away into a minuscule molecule and be non existent. I didn’t even want to look at Johnny to see what he was going to say. I could practically hear him trying to cover up his snickers. I sighed and put on a fake smile as my aunt came to me with arms wide open to capture me in a death grip hug that could snap my spine in half. “Ay, mija! Look at you, you look so pretty!” She paused. “Have you gained weight?”

“Nice to see you too, Titi.” I grit my teeth and tried to ignore her shade. Her eyes went over to Johnny, looking him up and down and squinting her eyes a bit.

“Eriannalisse, quien es este?” She asked who Johnny was.

I grabbed onto his arm, digging my nails into his bicep. “This is my….boyfriend, Johnny.”

He waved and grimaced through my death grip. “Hi. Nice to meet you.”

“Hm…” Was all my aunt said. “Titi Carmen has been wanting to see you. I’m sure she’d want to meet…Johnny.”

“Yeah, i’ll go see her in a bit! I have to find mami and Dani first.”

My aunt kissed both of my cheeks and left to go join the gossiping group of women in my family who all suddenly turned their gazes from their champagne flutes to Johnny and I. I turned my back towards them and looked up at Johnny. “I will literally pay you .25 cents to kill me. Just make it quick.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Eriannalisse. What’s the worst that could happen?”  He smirked and laughed a bit which made me frown.

“Johnny, I told you don’t call me that. I’m serious. They can call me that because they don’t recognize who I am as a person. You can’t.”

“O-oh…is it a gay thing? Like one of your gay things that you won’t explain to me?”

I sighed and looked down at my feet. “Yeah, sort of. I’ll explain it to you eventually. Just not now ok?”

He took my hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “Ok, i’m sorry. I won’t say it again.” He leaned down just a bit and gave me a soft (rated PG) kiss which made me smile.

“It’s just hard being around them…I wish it would be a fun time but-” I suddenly heard vicious clacking before arms were thrown around my shoulders.

“ERIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!” I recognized the overly excited voice and looked up at my modelesque baby sister. “I missed you so much!”

I kissed her cheek and turned around to properly hug her. “Hey, happy birthday.”

“You’re like almost my height!” She said, looking down at my heels. Dani was so graciously blessed with being 5’8”, skinny, with straighter hair and caramel skin as opposed to my milk chocolate. Her eyes were the perfect shade of hazel with flecks of green that sparkled perfectly. She was only my half sister as our fathers were different but we were raised both the same, save for the fact that she was a model and I was the throw away. “You look so pretty. I’m glad you’re not in black- Yooooooooooo, who is THIS!?” Her attention turned to Johnny, her eyes wide and mouth practically watering.

“Uh…hey.” he said sheepishly.

“This is my boyfriend, Johnny.”

Dani laughed and slapped my shoulder. “No, really!? Who is he?”

I pouted. “I’m serious. He’s my boyfriend.”

Dani looked at me then stepped up to Johnny. “What’s her favorite color?”

“Pastel pink.” He answered.

“Favorite food?”

“Pizza…and pasta.”

“What instruments can she play?”

“Guitar, and she sings.”

“What’s her favorite anime?”

“Sailor Moon.”

Dani squinted her eyes. “When’s her birthday?”

Fuck, he didn’t know that. I grabbed Dani’s arm, trying to get her attention from ruining our facade. “Dani, can you not grill him please? It’s bad enough Titi Lisa and probably Titi Carmen are talking shit about us already. Also, I haven’t told mom yet.”

“You haven’t told mom yet?! How long have you been dating?”

“It’ll be four months in December.” Johnny added. “We started dating right when the semester started. We have a class together and I thought she was cute so,” He shrugged. “Here we are.”

“Yeah but you’re hot. Eri has never dated anyone this hot before.”

“Well gee, thanks Dani! And i’ve dated cute people before!”

“Yeah cute, not hot. He’s hot. If you’re not going to keep him, I’ll take him.”

“You’re fifteen!” Johnny and I said at the same time.

Dani shrugged. “I mean…”

I held my hand up. “Don’t even go there. He’s like-” How old was Johnny anyway? “Way older than you. Stop being an instagram thot for once. Where’s mami? I need to know when she wants us to line up and start this.”

“I think at 8 exactly, but she’s running around like a chicken with her head cut off. I’ve just been chilling with my friends for now. This dress weighs like 50 pounds and I’m sweating like a whore in church.” Dani fanned at herself and hiked up the bodice of her dress. I looked at her poofy dress that was a beautiful array of soft Monet colors but way too 90’s barbie cake topper. It wouldn’t have been my first choice but I was sure mami wanted it to look as traditional as possible. “Oh, by the wayyyy, I know you have a boyfriend now but mami invited Josue.”

I straightened up completely when I heard that name. Josue was my childhood crush. He was older than me and I never stood a chance with him but we always played together. Once we kissed in my backyard and told me that he wanted to play house with me and be the daddy. I had been in love with him up until I was 12 when he moved away to a different state. “Jo-Josue? He’s coming? Here? Tonight?” I squeaked.

“Who’s Josue?” Johnny interjected.

“Josue is Eri’s big ol’ crush from when she was younger. All they did was play house together and be mommy and daddy and make kissy faces at each other. Then they kissed for real and he touched her chichi’s! But they never lived happily ever after because he moved away.”

“Dani, por favor, why do you have to be like this? I’m just happy to know he’s going to be here. I haven’t even seen him in like…almost 7 years. Besides I’m with Johnny now so it doesn’t matter.” I forced his arm around my waist and he clutched onto it tightly.

“Uh-huh whatever. Have you not followed him on Insta? There’s a lot of nice gym pictures. He hit a growth spurt. He’s like 6”3’ now.”

I swallowed hard. “Really? O-oh wow…”

“Sounds like a tool.” Johnny scoffed. “Ya’ll got beer at this place?”

Dani nodded towards the bar at the back of the venue. “Just fight my uncles off before they drink them all.”

“Cool.” He dipped out completely, leaving me and my sister to be swept away by our mother who had just stepped in like she was out of breath. She hustled to get us all lined up and ready like a bridal party ready to walk down the aisle. I sighed as I stayed in place, shuffling a bit as my feet already started to hurt. My mind started wandering to my childhood crush. Memories started bubbling to the surface; he had been my first kiss, the first to get to second base, and the first person I had wanted to be my boyfriend. He was three years older than me and I didn’t stand a chance with him. But his name was written all over my notebooks until I got my first girlfriend.

I couldn’t help but peek around a bit, wondering if he was already in the venue. I didn’t have much time to investigate as our entrance music started playing and pair by pair we walked into the main dance floor. I was walking with one of my younger cousin’s who I rarely spoke with so I barely paid attention. He had to yank me back a bit when I walked too fast and it made me want to punch him. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Johnny leaning against the back wall nursing a beer and watching me intensely. I smiled in his direction, letting him know I was still trying to be civil but he just took another sip and shoved his hand into his pocket. I wondered if he was ignoring me on purpose or if he genuinely didn’t see me. I chewed on my bottom lip almost getting swept up in my thoughts, that was until I saw Dani walking into the room.

Even though I had seen her just minutes ago now that all eyes were on her she looked sparkling and glowing. I’d never seen her look so beautiful before and it brought tears to my eyes that I tried wiping away as soon as they surfaced. I was a proud sibling then. She meant so much to me that I hoped that this day always reminded her of the happiest times she had in her life. We had our ups and downs but for the most part I was always there for her as much as she was there for me. She embarrassed me and I made sure I had to keep her in place before she got too out of hand. Even though I was far away from home now, I knew we would always remain close.

The floor was hers now and we dispersed to let her have the spotlight. I retreated to one of the circular tables while her and our mom shared a dance. It was normally meant for a daughter and her father but since neither of us had them in our lives our mother was the one who deserved to have that dance. I felt a touch on my shoulder and turned to see Johnny sitting behind me at the table. “Want some?” He said, offering the beer which i denied.

“I hate that kind. I’ll leave you too it.”

“She looks nice.”

“She’s a little shit but I love her.”

“I could say the same about you.”

I whipped my head around to stare at him wide eyed. “W-what?”

“I meant like you’re chill! Like i like you. Not like like you but like we’re cool. Uh…you know.” I stammered.

“Right…yeah, um…ok.”

“You wanna dance?!” He said, changing the subject quickly. Dani and my mother had finished their sentimental dance and the dj had switched to some reggaeton/trap mix Dani most likely requested.

“Uh, you mean make a fool out of ourselves?”

He shrugged and chugged down the rest of the beer in a few gulps. I guess it wouldn’t be so bad. My cousins were already grinding with whoever they invited or dancing in groups and laughing. We could probably blend in without being too weird. I kicked off my heels and stood up, extending my hand for him to take. I should’ve had a drink before I even agreed to this. My stomach was already in knots and my anxiety was making me feel like I was going to look stupid but he took my hand and we found a spot in a little corner of the dance floor. I stood in front of him waiting for him to make a move but he just stood there with his hands in his pockets. Why the hell did he keep doing that? Was it a nervous habit?

“So…” he said.

“Are you gonna like…move?”

“I’ve never danced to this sort of music. What do I do?”

“Literally it’s the same as rap music in english. You just sorta…” I gestured towards my family. “Grind on each other and act a fool.”

“So you turn around and just like put your ass against me?”

“Oh my God, have you never done that before?”

“Listen I was a dork and went to high school with a bunch of white kids and we like listened to Ke$ha and Britney Spears. What do you want from me?” He laughed.

“That’s unfortunate.” I joked. I turned around so my back was against his chest and I set his hands on my hips. “I’m not the best but I figure I can put my ass to use.” I worked myself back against him, swaying to the music a bit in hopes of getting him to respond.

Instead he laughed nervously and held my waist tighter. “How do people not get boners doing this?”

“I mean that’s what the song 'Too Close’ is about. Don’t tell me this is turning you on already.” I teased.

He lowered himself to face level and turned my head towards his to kiss me. I held it for a bit, enjoying the way the warmth of his tongue flowed over mine until I realized if my mom caught me doing this my ass would be grass. I pushed him back gently. “Johnny! I can’t do that. Behave!”

“C'mon, I at least need to have a little bit of fun while I’m here. And then when we get back to the motel we can-”

I felt a tap on my shoulder then. Johnny and I both looked up to see a tall, absolutely golden, green eyed adonis that looked like he could pick me up and toss me around in an instant. If I could have heart eyes I definitely would. I let go of Johnny instantly, almost pushing him away as my heart started to skip beats.

“Eri!” I knew it was him instantly even if puberty hit him like a freight train and gave him a deep bass-y voice that made my hair stand on end. He opened his arms to scoop me up and crush me to his barrel chest which smelled of high priced cologne. My feet dangled just a bit when he lifted me. “I can’t believe it. I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“Oh my god, Josue…Jesus, you’re huge.” God I hoped he was huge everywhere.

He laughed and I tried not to show how much it affected me. “Oh yeah, I’m really into that health and fitness thing. You really uh…wow. Definitely not a teeny bopper anymore.” He set me back down and adjusted the sleeves of his suit jacket.

“Yep! Got bigger boobs now, haha!” Why did I say that? WHY???

He licked his lips a smiled a bit. “I can definitely see that.”

Johnny cleared his throat deeply. Josue turned his attention to the man behind me. “Oh hey, I’m Josue. Who are you?”

“I’m her boy-”

“This is just Johnny!” I interjected with a nervous laugh. “Just Johnny! Want to go get something to drink? We can catch up!”

Josue flashed his incredibly perfect teeth. “Yeah I’d love that.” He set his giant hand against the small of my back ushering me away from Johnny.

“Eri!” Johnny said sternly.

“I’ll just be quick!” I mouthed to him, letting myself get whisked away. He didn’t seem too happy about that but I could let him sulk for a bit. I was too preoccupied at the moment anyway.

–

Johnny’s POV

That was fucked up. Way more than fucked up and I was pissed off beyond belief. She was the one who begged me to come with her so she would survive her family. Now she was head over heels for some dude she had a crush on years ago who looked like the biggest douchebag to ever exist. He was taller than me and more built, had perfect teeth and no lisp. I wanted to punch him dead in the jaw.

I didn’t know what to do now. If I went after her it might cause a scene which I didn’t completely want. I still knew that this party was important to her sister and unlike her I wasn’t being an asshole for once. I could get another drink and maybe get away with being a little tipsy but her loud uncles were hogging up the space and the bartender’s attention. I grumbled as I sat back down at the table. my arms crossed as I contemplated leaving her and going back to the motel by myself.

"What are you pouting for?!” Dani said as she plopped down next to me, her poofy dress seeming to expand.

“Nothing.”

“Where’s Eri?”

“With precious Josue.” I said bitterly.

“Ah, so he finally found her. I knew he would.” She drummed her nails on the table thinking over her next statement. “You’re not dating my sister are you?”

“It’s complicated…”

“You’re fuck buddies?”

“Yes.”

“I figured as much. She can’t never lie right when it comes to me. So, you’re in love with her then?”

I snapped my head towards her. “Excuse me?”

“You’re in love with her right? I mean that’s the only reason you would be sulking over her because Eri went off with her new papi.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m not sulking.” She was definitely Eri’s sister with how she blurted out things without consequence.

“Look, if you want to win her over you need to definitely do something that will make her remember you. Not that I want to hear about my sister’s sex life or even think about her getting p or v action, but if you got something she might like, go for it. And do it before she ends up going to Josue’s hotel.” She craned her neck to see where Eri and that asshole had gone off too. “Looks like he may have already given her his number.”

I looked in the same direction, my anger only getting stronger. They were huddled over their phones, laughing, with Eri casually (but noticeably) keeping her hands on him. I didn’t want to “win her over”. I wanted to stake my claim and tell him to fuck right off. The grip on my biceps got tighter the more I stared at them. “Ay, you got a younger brother?”

I turned my attention back to Dani, a bit grateful that she was distracting me enough to not go apeshit. “What? No? I’m an only child.”

“Wack. But like if you’re not gonna date Eri then likeeee…”

“You’re fifteen! I’m not going to jail nor am I interested.”

“Ok, ok…but like do you have any younger friends? What flavor Asian are you? Chinese? Or like them ones that dance on tv? The um…the Korean ones!”

“Oh my God.” I ran a hand over my face. “Yes I’m Korean. And no I don’t have any friends your age. My only young friend in Toronto is 18, which is still illegal.”

“Dammit. You know Eri be listening to that stuff right?”

I pulled out my phone, wanting her to take a hint that she was now annoying me without being too rude. “Doesn’t surprise me when she fucks half of Asia.”

“All her hookups are with Asian guys?”

“As far as I’m aware. But who fuckin’ knows.”

“Oooohhh I gotta mess with her about that. Guess she trying to get that carribean dick now.” She cackled and slapped my back hard as she got up. “Call me, ok?!” She said as she finally left me to join the gaggle of teenage girls that were her friends.

I rubbed my temples and took a few deeps breaths. I needed a smoke, badly. I looked to see if Eri was still stuck to Josue’s side but they were nowhere to be found. I looked around the dance floor trying to see if they might have gone there. Sure enough she was grinding on him now, definitely not as awkward as she had been with me. She was practically bent over and ready to get fucked by him. Fuck it. I stood up and weaved through everyone dancing to make my way over to her. I stood in front of her, watching as she came up from shaking her ass.

“Can we help you?” Josue yelled over the music to me. I rolled my eyes at him and took Eri’s chin in my hand giving her a deep kiss. She stumbled back a bit and gripped onto my vest. When i pulled away i licked my lips, tasting the slight flavor of her lipstick.

“Johnny!” She exclaimed.

“What the hell are you doing?” He asked, in his macho voice, trying to one up me.

“Oh, you didn’t know?” I grabbed onto Eri’s waist and kept her close to me. “She’s MY girlfriend. You had your fun catching up right?”

“Eri, you didn’t tell me-”

She looked panicked as she glanced between us. “No, wait- It’s just-”

“Come with me.” I growled in her ear. “Now.”

“Johnny , I swear to g-” I kept my arm around her waist and lead her towards the front door of the venue. When we were in the clear she whipped around to face me. “What the actual fuck?!”

“I should be asking you the same thing! You’re really gonna ditch me to throw yourself on him? After you begged me to come here?!”

“I wasn’t throwing myself on him! We haven’t seen each other in 7 years! So excuse me if I wanted to talk with him.”

“Hard to talk to him with his dick practically in your mouth! What is wrong with you?!”

“Why are you being such a jerk again! You always do this!” She yelled.

“You’re the one being the jerk this time! I’m fuckin’ pissed. When are we leaving?”

“Leaving?! I have to stay here for at least a few hours! Clearly you don’t know how these go.”

“No, Eri, i fuckin’ don’t. But I do know that you going off with someone else while I’m supposed to be your boyfriend blows our entire cover. So either you fucking act right or I can leave right now. You sister already knows were lying.”

“Fuck!” She stomped her foot and sighed. “I knew she would figure it out. She better not tell anyone.”

“I’m pretty sure she won’t have to with you being stupid. Get me my cigs from your purse wallet thingy.”

“Get you-? Get it yourself! I’m freezing and I’m going back inside. And maybe i’ll still be talking with Josue!”

I grabbed her arm and held onto it. “Eri, do you want to go there? Really want to go there?” My eyes caught hers and i could see how hard she swallowed. Her chest was heaving chest a bit and trembling with the cold.

“What are you going to do?” She sniffled.

“Do you want to find out?”

“M-maybe.”

I let her go then opened the door, guiding her back inside. “Then keep it up. I dare you.”

She stayed quiet then but shuffled ahead of me quickly. I realized I had made her walk outside without her shoes on or our coats but it was whatever at this point. I needed her to know that I wasn’t playing games any more. She was mine.

–*

Eri’s POV

I could barely keep up with Johnny’s long strides from the parking lot to the door of our motel room. He continued his little tyrade of sticking by me and keeping me from Josue, never letting go of my hand, or my waist, even when he went through the ringer of meeting more members of my family. Him being pissed off had me pissed off and it didn’t help when my family told me how fat I looked, or asked when Johnny and I were getting married, or why I had spent so much time in college, or even that what I was studying wasn’t going to get me a real job. It made the entire rest of the night absolutely fucking miserable. Not to mention when I told my mother I was going to spend the night in the motel with Johnny instead of driving home at midnight she blew up on me, saying that it wasn’t right and insisting that I stay at the house. I refused to and I had no idea why she still thought I was some sort of Virgin de Guadalupe or some shit. It was another fight to end this magical night. I gave up and just wanted to take a hot shower, put on my fuzzy pajamas on and possibly smoother Johnny with a pillow as he slept.

Johnny barged into our room, not even bothering to hold the door open for me. I didn’t even want to deal with him since I was still mad at my mother for treating me like a child. I went straight to prepping for my shower, tossing my clutch and fake eyelashes on the desk and my phone on the bed so i could plug it in to charge. I unzipped the dress as best as I could without his assistance and shimmied out of it, leaving it a puddle in front of the bed. I didn’t care anymore. Not one bit. After I showered I pulled the too short towel around me and went back into the shared space. Johnny was sitting in the chair, feet propped up on the desk and tie loosened. He was glaring at me and I swallowed hard at the intensity. He dropped his legs and leaned forward in the seat, undoing the first few buttons on his dress shirt.

I tried to ignore the effect he had on me and instead went to my duffel bag to try and find my pajamas. He stopped me as I passed by him, grabbing my wrist and pulling me in front of him. “Ow! What’s your problem now?!” I asked, still trying to clutch onto my towel so it wouldn’t fall.

“This night was complete bullshit. I’m your boyfriend and all you could do was throw yourself onto that guy and embarrass me in front of everyone.”

“I wasn’t throwing myself on him!” I argued again. I hated that he was saying that. So what if I found Josue incredibly attractive and felt like a preteen again as soon as I saw him? That was my business and not Johnny’s.

“You grinded on him, got his number, and had your arms around him for minutes on end. You made me look stupid. I’m your boyfriend, Eri.”

“Fake boyfriend.” I corrected.

“That’s what I meant.”

“Why should you be embarrassed then?!”

“Because your uncles didn’t think that I was man enough to keep you with me. And your aunts talked shit about me all night.” He pressed himself up against me making the edge of the desk dig into my lower back. “You said you were going to be civil and you were far from civil.” He set his hands on either side of my hips, keeping me in place.

“A-ah, Johnny…back u-up.” I whimpered and avoided looking at him but he grabbed my face roughly.

“You wanna try that shit again, Eri? Hmm?”

I could feel his fingers digging harshly into my jaw. “I didn’t do anything wrong! You’re just a jealous prick that-”

He pulled away from me and shoved me back onto the bed, instantly hovering over me. My towel fell open just like my legs and he pinned both my wrists above my head in one of his large hands. I swallowed hard and felt my heartbeat increase. I had no idea what had gotten into him and i was partially thinking about what Doyoung had said about Johnny. Was he actually trying to manipulate me and make me feel bad for being with Josue? I bit my lip as I thought, wondering what his next move would be. “Get off me.” I tried to sound strong but it was a pathetic attempt.

“Open.” He demanded.

“W-what?” What the hell did he want? I figured it out quickly as three of his fingers dove down my throat almost making me gag. I squirmed against him, trying to edge my head away but he was adding more of his weight onto me as his fingers plowed into my mouth. His knee was pressed right into my center, the residual wetness from the shower dampening the fabric. I tried swallowing around the invasion when his knee started to rock into me.

“Suck harder, Eri.”

I didn’t dare look at him. His voice was doing something to me as always. Stirring the pot of emotions and hormones that made me fall into a space of complete submission. This wasn’t like his usual ways though throughout or hookups I could see the dominance poking through. Now he was another person that I was desperate to get to know. I tried my best to suck deeper at his fingers, sliding my tongue around them and providing them all the wetness they hopefully needed. I knew exactly where they were going and i was going to be stretched far beyond my imagination. With his thrust his rings kissed my lips, shocking me with a bit of cold and excitement. I edged my tongue around the silver as best I could given the invasion that took up most of my mouth. Slowly the metal warmed up and I pressed my thighs against his, feeling a tingling throughout my center.

He pulled his hand away sharply, making me cough as his glistening fingers dove lower. Two were rushed inside me making my knees jerk up towards my chest and toes curl. I was already crying out his name, wanting him to slow down just enough for me to catch my breath and adjust but he ignored me. Instead he was working in the third finger, forcing my walls to flex and waver around him. He was already digging my arousal out of me. I could hear it so blatantly echoing in our room. I buried my face in my arm beside my head, still being unable to free my hands though I struggled as much as I could. He seemed to like that struggle as his fingers curled deep inside me, knuckles pressing against my entrance, the rings threatening to push past and fill me up too.

“Fuck, Johnny!!!” I cried out as my thighs almost snapped shut. It was starting to be too much and I could feel myself already crawling towards an orgasm.

“Quiet.” Was all he said as he pulled his fingers out to give me some relief from the pressure. I was throbbing and gaping around the stretch he left behind, my whole lower half practically trembling. He finally let me go and sat down on the bed. He splayed his legs open, unzipping his dress pants and beckoning me over to him. “Get over here.”

I shook my head, raising myself to my knees and shrinking myself away. I wasn’t scared of him, far from it. I was definitely turned on more than anything but I wanted to push him further than he had ever been capable of. He wanted to be a jealous boyfriend that pushed my buttons well I was going to push right back. “You’re being a jerk. I’m not giving you the satisfaction, especially after you decided to barge in there with your giant ass fingers!”

He lurched forward and grabbed onto my arm before I could wiggle away. He yanked me to his chest then gripped the back of my neck hard. Our eyes met before he pulled me close to his lips. “I like it better when you don’t talk.”

I squinted at him, almost in shock that he used my own line against me. “You fucker.”

He pressed me down towards his lap though I tried to resist as much as I could. It was no use as he was stronger than me and I was face to face with his growing length trapped within his briefs. His hand was now digging into my hair keeping me firmly in place. I landed a bite to his hipbone making sure he knew I wasn’t too pleased in the way he was handling me. He hissed out my name and arched his hips, his nails digging into my scalp. I wrapped my hand around his, trying to pry his iron grip away while adding kitten licks to the outline of his cock. That seemed to soothe him a little as I heard him exhale through his nose as he relaxed back against the wall. His nails quit marking my skin and he opted to push my hair away from my face gently instead of trying to rip it out.

I slid his briefs back and guided him towards my mouth pressing kisses down the shaft before licking back up to the tip. Once I got to the tip, I took him in, swallowing his head completely. I shifted my hips to raise my ass higher for him to look at knowing it would tease him. I looked up at him and saw the full pleasure that was written across his face. His eyes had closed, his lips pressed together, and his fingers trailing down to open more buttons on his dress shirt. I popped off him and placed kisses up his stomach with each new area that became exposed. “I can tease that little spot that you like.” I smirked and added a slow stroke to his cock.

“Actually, I have a better idea.” He shoved me down onto my back and straddled my shoulders, his cock now hovering above my face. I couldn’t move with his weight on me and I was trapped between his thick thighs. He tapped my lips with his cock which I absolutely hated. I slapped at his stomach but he remained stoic. He only moved to shove himself down my throat, propping one hand against the wall while the other kept my head in place. He worked quickly to rock his hips against my face making me claw at him. I wasn’t used to this sort of thing, even with all of my experience, and it hurt like all hell. I was trying my damnedest not to gag around him but it was impossible given the fact that he was ramming into my throat. My eyes watered and tears fell against my will. My nails dug into his hips as I silently begged for him to slow down.

He was moaning my name, more than he ever had before, completely lost in the pleasure of torturing my throat. He looked fucking amazing, I had to give him that much, even if I hated what he was doing to me. I loved the way his hair was coming undone from the gel he used, the way his dress shirt lay open and his tie dangled above me like an invitation. The way his thighs stretched out his dress pants was a dream and I wanted to touch every part of him. I reached for the thinner end of his tie, pulling roughly so it zipped up to his throat. He lurched back at the sudden pressure and looked down at me. He must have seen my fucked up state because he pulled out, leaving me grossed out by the messy spit that connected us still.

"Fu-fucker. That hurt” I croaked.

He pulled off me completely before lifting me up to sit in his lap. He wiped away my tears and I buried my face in his neck, clutching onto his vest. He kissed at my cheek, pulling me away from hiding. “You ok?”

I sniffled and nodded. He worked his hands over my sides and hips trying to soothe me more. Of course he couldn’t help himself and gripped my ass tight which made me laugh just a bit. “I’ve never done that before…”

“Really?” He asked, surprised.

“Ok, I’m a hoe but like there are some things I haven’t done before. You have to remember you dick is huge, dude. I’m small.”

He gave me soft tender kisses and tucked my hair behind my ear. “I know, princess. I’m sorry. But don’t think you’re getting away with this shit either.”

I pouted and crossed my arms over my chest. “I stand by the fact that I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Hmm.” Was all he said before he tossed me face down onto the bed. I looked back at him as he discarded the rest of his clothes, dangerously holding his tie in his hand. He mounted me, as I was completely his to take and wrapped the loop of the tie around my wrists, pulling tight. “You like this don’t you?” It was supposed to be a command but I could tell it was mostly an uneasy question and he needed permission to continue.

I nodded and smiled at him. “I like it a lot, daddy.” I gave him a quick kiss sealing my consent. I threw out my rule of not using our titles with one another since he couldn’t actually communicate but in this moment I need him to know that I was his to command and I was giving him as much power as I would allow.

He wrapped the length tie around his fist, keeping a firm hold on it. His other hand jerked my hips up while his knee nudged my legs apart as far as they could go. My ass was raised, arms outstretched, and my body was trembling with excitement. His first thrust was swift and hard. I could hear his hips snap against me and I was barely able to hold myself up in that moment. My arms shook weakly and I dug my fingers into the sheets as my mouth curved into a silent moan. He was almost too deep for me to handle and every slam into me seemed harsher than the last. I couldn’t really keep up. It was overpowering and I wanted to scream my pleasure into the tiny room though I could barely even mumble a word.

My fingers curled as I tried to send tension to my arms instead of my weakening legs. It was useless though and I could feel my stomach tightening. He landed a slap to my ass just as I tried to pull away from him and regroup. I hissed and bowed my head, breathing out his title again. Suddenly, my phone buzzed by my head, the screen lighting up and distracting me. I turned to see who it was and winced. This was the worst time for him to call.

Johnny pressed my head into the mattress and sped up his brutal thrusts. “Why don’t you answer it, Eri? Let him hear how good you’re getting fucked. Tell him who’s really your boyfriend.”

I opened my mouth to say anything but all that came out we’re soft croaks. I panicked when I saw him reach for my phone and I struggled to move to try and block him. “D-dont, please don’t.” I was finally able to say. He let go of his grip on the tie wrapped around my wrists and instead set it around my neck. The call disappeared much to my relief.

“What a shame Eri. Let’s see if he calls back or if he took the fucking hint.” I swallowed hard and nodded, biting into my lip to try and still my moans. He quickly latched his teeth into my neck, sucking deeply like he always did when he wanted to mark me. “Stay on all fours, got it?”

I propped myself back to my elbows as he forced my thighs to rest on the outside of his. I could hear his moan of satisfaction at the sight of me splayed open with his cock stuffed inside me. I wanted to shy away and hide but he wouldn’t let me of course. He resumed his grip on the tie, pulling it taught around my neck and constricting my air flow. My eyelids fluttered and i wondered if this was heaven. Jesus, it felt so amazing even if every muscle in my body felt like it was burning and my insides were a scrambled mess. While he made my back dip by pulling my neck by the tie I felt his other hand slid down from my hips to my wetness, flowing over my clit. I was grateful for the extra attention and wiggled my hips to rock back against him and dive further into his fingers.

His finger started to trail from my clit to dance around my gaping entrance and just like before he pressed the long digit in little by little until it was almost as deep as his cock. I pleaded for him to stop, it was too much, too overwhelming for my overly sensitive walls but he kept working away at my torturous pleasure. That, coupled with his thickness, made the tendons in my legs strain as bliss shot through me. My moans mixed in with my strangled pants as he dared to press a second finger into me.“J-johnny!!” I rasped. “It’s too much!!”

He pressed his body weight harder against me, keeping me pinned so I would have no way from escaping the overstretching. “You’re not going anywhere.” He whispered harshly in my ear, making me shudder. He curled his finger then, the pressure of his knuckles against his cock, and the sliding of his rings against my heated walls made me clench meekly around him. Johnny enjoyed seeing me writhe beneath him, seeing me try and focus on being a good brat when in reality I was starting to unravel into a brainless mess. Nothing had a hold on my attention like the buildup he was creating inside me. I could barely process the words he was saying to me with how fuzzy my senses were. He curled his fingers deeper getting right to the root of my pleasure. The head of his cock was edging as far as it could go within me, his fingers pressed into the perfect spot, and his thumb brought back smalls swipes and circles against my clit. It was a haphazard clusterfuck of intense sensations that all culminated into a harsh orgasm that sent my mind reeling. It felt like my cum rushed out of me, painting my thighs with a deep warmth that was astounding.

I squeezed my eyes shut as my entire frame trembled. My muscles seized, tensed, and finally gave out. I fell forwards, collapsing onto the bed in a breathless heap. My lower half practically felt numb and I tried to concentrate on not passing out. It wasn’t just the physical fatigue, the mental and emotional fatigue of the entire day weighed on me in that moment. My few seconds of recuperation was cut short when Johnny pulled his fingers out of me. I felt another gush then, making me a bit confused as to how wet I really was. It definitely felt different and I could hear Johnny make some remark though his words weren’t registering. He said something else and I nodded weakly, agreeing to whatever he had posed just for me to have the ability to relax soon.

But that was definitely wishful thinking. He yanked me almost to the edge of the bed and continued his brutal fucking. I let him grip onto the back of my thighs as he huffed out growls and moans. He was swelling inside me, making me wince yet encourage him with mumbles that I thought were words. His fingertips dug into me harder and that sweet heat spread throughout my body again. I smiled and relished in the feeling of him pumping into me, slower and slower, until he milked himself completely. I laid there, unmoving and enjoying the way he felt inside me like I always did until I i lost myself in sleep.

–*

Johnny’s POV

I felt her move beneath me and there was a stickiness and sweatiness between us. I groaned as I didn’t really want to move but I needed to break away and get some air. My hand was over hers, my body curled around her, and my cock of course still inside her. It was almost perfect save for the giant wet spot we were forced to lay in because she squirted everywhere. We had both fallen asleep almost immediately after and i just adjusted her in the bed for me to have enough room to spoon her. Now everything made me feel like I needed an hour long shower. I rolled away, letting go of her hand and putting my forearm over my eyes to block out the bright light of the room. How long were we even asleep for?

She mumbled something and groaned, blinking a few times before fully looking at me. “Hey.” She sounded like she had smoked 2 packs of cigarettes a day for the past 40 years and I cringed at my handiwork. She tried clearing her throat but opted that it was too sore and winced in pain.

“Hey…maybe you shouldn’t talk…” She glared at me and I shuffled a bit away so she wouldn’t attack me.

“I feel gross. Why is everything wet? What happened?”

“What do you mean what happened? We fucked?”

“No, no, I know that. But I was so tired at the end-” She paused to rub at her throat. “I felt like half asleep. It was good though but I was worn out.” She laughed softly.

“Well, you’re welcome for that but like…do you even remember your orgasm?”

She nodded quickly, her smile beaming. “Oh yeah.”

“You squirted everywhere and basically we’ve been laying in the soaked sheets because we’re dumb as fuck.”

“Wait…squirted? No, i can’t do that. I’ve never done that.”

“What do you mean you cant do that? You literally did. Twice. The first time when you had your big one and then when i pulled my fingers out. It was like…not how they make it out to be in porn. Like not some weird super soaker spray but like-”

She held her hand up to stop me. “Please don’t describe it any further. I just…holy shit.”

I pulled out of her slowly, never getting used to that amazing feeling. It got me every time. It also sent my cum dripping out of her which was almost as good of a sight as her squirting. “Fuck…”

She wiggled a bit, a look of discomfort on her face. “What the hell?”

“We’ll now we got my cum on the sheets…” I said, partially annoyed. We really had to get them off this bed.

“DID YOU CUM IN ME AGAIN?!”

Her yelling caught me off guard. “Yes? I asked you this time and you agreed!”

“When?!”

“What do you mean when!?”

“I’m sorry if I was too fucked out and tired to freakin’ listen to you blab during sex! But you can’t be doing that! It freaks me out!!!”

“Hey, i asked to cash in my favor and you definitely said yes so I did it. It is not my fault.” I sat up slowly and inched my way to roll off the bed. “Come on. We need to get these off and I think I’m gonna take a shower.”

“Aren’t you worried at all?” She said softly.

“Me? Not really. I told you it’ll be alright. We’ve got everything covered.” It was a lie but I was blinded by how good it felt sexually and I also didn’t want to make her panic more than she already was. I told myself I’d stop after this one last time and not risk it anymore. She didn��t move and I could tell she was overthinking again. I went over to her and scooped her into my arms, holding her bridal style. “I’ll have you get the shower started while I take care of the bed. She held onto my neck and buried her face in my chest as I walked her into the bathroom, gently setting her down in the tub. “You ok?”

“Y-yeah…” She reached up and pulled me in for a kiss that I held for a long time. It wasn’t deep or passionate but more so intimate and warm. I sighed and cupped her face.

“Go, ok? I’ll be right back.”

I pulled away from her which seemed to be getting harder and harder each time. Even if it was just back into the room it felt like a million miles away. I tore off the soaked sheets, glad that the comforter was still mostly dry, and tossed them in the corner of the room. I said a silent apology to housekeeping and hoped to all hell they wouldn’t look at it directly when they put it in the wash. I padded back to the bathroom and slipped in behind her.

“Turn around.” She said and I gave her a questioning look. She sucked her teeth. “I was just about to get the…stuff out.”

“Eri, i’ve literally seen you every which way. Do you really think I care how you look getting my cum out of you?”

“JUST DO IT.”

I sighed and turned around, picking up the little motel bar of soap and ripping off the plastic. I waited for her to finish, getting impatient about being in the cold spot. “Dude, hurry up.”

“THERE IS A LOT OK? You don’t cum like a normal human being!”

“Apparently neither do you, Splash Mountain.”

‘OH MY GOD. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP.”

I snorted and looked back at her. “Can I please get under the water now? I’m freezing.”

She switched spots with me and I finally got under the hot stream, thankful to wash away a whole nights worth of sex. My time under the stream by myself didn’t last long as Eri snuggled up next to me, her hair a soaking mess of waves that framed her face and made her look like a painting of a goddess. “Too cold. I want to be next to you.”

“You big baby.” I joked and ruffled her hair. She pouted and poked at my stomach making me squirm away. Our antics made our shower way more fun than it should’ve been, mimicking the perfect time we had in the tub before I freaked out on her. It was almost like a do over and I was appreciative of that fact. Once we were done and dried we curled up, facing one another, under the comforter. And although we were both fatigued, we stood up for hours talking about shit I never even dreamed about knowing about her. By the time the sun rose I was able to realize that one thing was for sure. I was in love with her.

–

We thought everything would be fine after that, and it was between us, but on Eri’s side things seemed to hit the fan one after the other. Their grandpa, who was back on the island they were from, fell ill. Their mother didn’t let them have a say in anything and whisked them away, making them leave school and work behind. There was a looming threat that they could be fired or even lose their financial aid which worried them just as much as their grandpa’s health. Each night they were gone we would facetime just so I could see them. I missed having them beside me whenever I wanted and it wasn’t even about the sex anymore. I genuinely found that I liked talking to them. There was never any judgement and I started to understand why certain things were important to them. Now I had to be there for them and help them stay strong even though I knew they were crumbling.

I was laying on my side, my phone propped against the wall, as I watched them cry. There wasn’t much I could do, or even say, at this point but i remained on the video. They apologized over and over for crying so much but i reassured them that I didn’t care. They let me know that it was okay when I cried and I wanted them to know the same. “I miss you..” They hiccuped.

I sniffed and cleared my throat, swallowing my own emotions. “I miss you too…you know you have to be there. It’s going to be okay.”

“He’s gonna die Johnny. I know it. I visited him today at the hospital and my mom and my aunts just keep putting this weird bandaid on it. They keep thinking he’s going to bounce back and be able to take care of the house and my grandma and he wont. He literally wont. I don’t know why they won’t just fuckin’ say it.”

“They’re scared, Eri. They’re losing one of their parents. It’s always going to be scary.”

“I know that but I hate being the only fucking rational one here. It’s driving me insane. Just look at him and say he’s going to die! He’s just going to die, Johnny. He’s going to…” They burst into another round of tears and buried their face into a pillow, muffling the heart wrenching sobs. I wish I could be there. I wish I could hold them so fucking tight and never let them go. It hurt me to see them like this.

“Baby, look at me, ok?” They moved their head up and wiped at their eyes. “When you come back here, i’ll be here for you ok? It’s going to be hard but I’ll help you get through this. And so will Quinn and stupid ass Lucas and all your other friends.”

I finally saw them crack a small smile which made me feel a little better. “I know…I-” Suddenly, someone burst into their room. I couldn’t make out who it was exactly as the video started to pixelate. They had a conversation that I couldn’t understand but seemed stressed. They grabbed their phone and finally the video came back into view. “I have to go. I-I’ll talk to you later, ok?!” Before I could even respond the video was cut off and I had my own disturbance burst into my room. I shot up in bed, looking at Jae who seemed to be distressed. Great, was everyone around me having issues at once?

“Dude, what the-” He held his cell phone out in his shaking hand and I could see a call from an unknown number going on. “What?” I asked, still confused.

“Talk. Talk now.”  was all he said.

I took the phone tentatively and held it to my ear. My body went into shock as soon as I heard the voice that had haunted me for weeks on end. The voice that made my skin crawl and make me want to vomit. What she said next drenched my blood run cold.

“Johnny, I’m pregnant.”

[writehardwhumpharder]

OC drabble - Carson vs. Vertigo. (feat. concerned classmate, Daniel)

This is a little drabble about how Carson and Daniel met in college about five years ago. With Carson being Carson it couldn't be as simple as saying hello, nope. It starts with Daniel dragging his half-conscious ass out of the room when he suddenly gets attacked with severe vertigo brought on by sleep deprivation.

Wind blew through the open courtyard between buildings as Carson walked to his next class. It was in a large lecture hall so he wouldn't be forced to talk to anyone unless he had a question. God he used to get so nervous on the first day of a new semester, but he'd stopped caring a long time ago.

Wearing a New York Universtity sweatshirt, jeans, and a beanie, he did his blend in, and taking a look at all the other students walking around the campus, he was doing a pretty good job. With the sun out and leaves falling down as the weather transitioned into fall, it was almost a perfect day. Perfect all except for the fact that his insomnia had kicked his ass once again last night and now he was running on less than no sleep. He was on his third cup of coffee and it was only 11am. Carson figured it didn't really matter though, he could just find a seat in the back of the lecture hall, get his syllabus, and sleep the rest of the time if need be.

Once he got in the lecture hall he immediately found the seat he'd sat in all last semester when he was in the same lecture room and sat down before anyone else could take it. He was a creature of habit so there was something comforting sitting in the same spot. Although this was an entirely different class with a teacher he'd never had before.

A short, middle aged man milled about the front stage getting his things ready as more students filed in. Mere seconds before the doors would close so the lecture could start, one more person slipped in and to Carson's dismay, sat down right next to him. That wasn't supposed to happen. This was his row God damn it and it has been for two years now.

Carson made no effort to conceal his scowl before turning to get a look at the guy. He was tall, that was the first thing he noticed. The second was his green eyes as they met each other's gaze. The guy tried to smile politely but it quickly fell away as he took in Carson's expression.

"Um, is this seat taken?" He whispered, sounding unsure.

Carson simply sighed and put his head down over his arms, ignoring his question. The professor's voice boomed through the lecture hall, he introduced himself and announced that 18th century literature would not be an easy A kind of class. Great, another strict professor that took his job way too seriously. Carson didn't bother lifting up his head for another thirty minutes though he was still listening closely to what was being said. But around a third of the way into the class he got this strange feeling like all the blood was pooling in his head so he sat back up, blinking against the sunlight coming in from the windows. He hoped that would fix the problem but now that he was upright, it felt like all that blood was draining from his head at once.

Apparently it was because the guy next to him elbowed him suddenly, "Dude you okay? You just went white."

Carson nodded, immediately regretting it as the room spun around him for a moment, "Yeah, fine," he whispered. He must not have been very convincing because he could still feel the stranger's eyes on him.

Carson was surprised to see that his face was actually scrunched up in concern. He leaned forward a little to get a better look at his chalky complexion to which Carson leaned away, shrinking into his oversized sweatshirt.

To be honest he was starting to panic a little. He'd felt this feeling before and it always ended with him on the floor. Along with the dizziness a strange tingling started to spread from his chest down through his arms and legs. Deep breaths, Carson, he told himself. Sometimes that helped clear away some of the anxiety that came with the problem. And it worked, for a couple minutes at least. He leaned over his desk, closing his eyes in an effort to focus. This only made the room spin faster and he hurried to swallow down the nausea suddenly rushing up his throat. Carson wasn't sure if this was a random attack of vertigo or if it was related to his lack of sleep but either way, his body made it abundantly clear that it would not be ignored this time.

Ok, time to leave while leaving was still an option. Carson scooted his chair back a few inches then carefully rose, using the side of the desk for support. He had only thought in his head now -- getting the fuck out of this room and to somewhere more private, the only place on campus like that was the bathroom.

Since the guy next to him was sitting at the outer edge of the row he would have to walk behind him to get to the aisle and through the closed double doors that thankfully weren't very far away. But Carson only made it a couple steps before his vision and hearing started to warp with the vertigo. Either he was getting tunnel vision or things were starting to get darken at the edges. He stumbled into the table behind him, making enough noise to draw people's attention. The stranger sitting next to him was watching him carefully, tense and ready to move in case he fell. And just as they made eye contact, everything went dark. Carson's eyes rolled back in his head and he made a quiet exhaling noise as his limbs went slack. He tipped forward, his hand still gripping the table even as he's falling and his knees hit the ground first helping to slow down his descent. Enough for the guy to slide out of his chair and throw an arm out before Carson could bang his head on the ground. Carson landed in a tangled heap, just barely being propped up by an outstretched arm.

The stranger was at a loss for what to do next and was painfully aware of every person in the room staring at them.

"What's going on back there?" The professor demanded, stopping his lecture entirely. "Do we need to call campus security, an ambulance?"

"No!" He says a little too quickly, "um, no this happens all the time. Everything is fine, keep teaching." He said.

"This happens all the time? What are you thinking Daniel?! You don't even know this guys name, what if this is an actual emergency." He scolds himself. "If it is the least I can do is take it to the hallway where there will hopefully be less people watching.”

Apparently that was all the professor needed to hear because he went back to the lecture completely unfazed, he really was as cold as he seemed.

He jostled Carson's shoulder and that seemed to do the trick because seconds later bright blue eyes started to crack open slowly, looking confused and glazed over.

Conscious again, the first thing Carson noticed was how awful he felt and he suddenly wished to go back to the darkness. He leaned into the pillow under his head, curling over on his side as he tried to ride out the vertigo. It wasn't until the pillow moved that he realized his head was rested on the stranger's arm. His eyes snapped open and despite everything he tried to get up. Seeing this Daniel figured he was well enough to be dragged out and suddenly the arm Carson was trying to get away from was snaking around his back so that his arm was slung over one of the taller's man's shoulders. He lifted him up with ease and Carson took clumsy steps to keep up with him.

The short trip out of the room was enough movement to make Carson want to either throw up or black out again so the second they were through the double doors Carson wiggled out of the guys grasp and staggered towards the men's bathroom. His vision was growing alarmingly dark but with one hand on the wall he managed to get where he was going. Vertigo was more of a superficial problem than anything, though he felt like he was dying, he knew it was all just an adverse reaction to the sheer amount of discomfort his body had to endure. Up was down, left was right, hot was cold.

Carson had hoped the stranger would stop there but he heard the bathroom door open a second after it had shut behind him and Daniel came in, looking more and more worried. Carson did his best to ignore him as he slid down the wall next to the sinks.

"Woah, are you okay? What's wrong?" Daniel asked, as Carson's legs seemed to give out.

"I..." Carson mumbled, "I'm dissolving." He said. Because that's exactly what it felt like. It was as if every cell in his body was tingling and breaking free of its structure, like his skin was turning to static in the most horrible way.

"You.. what? I think we should call someone," Daniel said, reaching into his pocket for his phone.

"No no, be fine in like.. 20 mins," Carson said as he let his eyes slip closed. All he could do now was wait for everything to slow down. He took one last look at his new deskmate who was very reluctant to trust the barely coherent words of a man curled up on the dirty floor of a college bathroom.

He sat next to Carson impatiently, checking his phone as 5 minutes passed, then 10, then 15.

"Why do you keep doing that?" He asked, seeing Carson run his hand over his ear again which he'd been doing every few minutes.

"Just.. making sure." He mumbled.

"Making sure of what?" Daniel asked, confused. Was there something wrong with his hearing too?

"That my brain isn't actually leaking through my ears," Carson said dryly. To his surprise the stranger laughed at that.

"Wow you're just a hot mess aren't you?" Daniel said.

"Pretty much," Carson replied, not really noticing how Daniel emphasized both the words hot and mess.

He still felt pretty disoriented but he felt like he could at least sit up now so he pushed himself up off the floor to sit against the wall, resting his head between his knees.

"Lecture is going to end in a few minutes and both our bags are still in the room," Daniel said, "I'll go grab them, don't die while I'm gone." He joked.

"Meh," Carson replied, making no promises. What felt like no time at all later Daniel came back with two backpacks and knelt down again.

Carson blinked and shook his head slightly, trying to clear the lingering haze in his head. "You don't have to stay here you know."

"I don't have anywhere else I need to be," he shrugged. "I'm Daniel by the way."

"You look like a Danny," Carson said, immediately giving him the nickname whether he liked it or not. He saw his mouth open to correct him but he just sighed to himself and let it slide. 

"I'm Carson."

[satorutini]

Dance to This (m)

pairing: fuqboi!jhs x reader

genre: smut, dance majors!au

warnings: light bondage (?), thigh riding, self-gratification lmao

wc: 3k

notes: an old draft i found collecting dust in my wips from a year ago. i think it meant to have more plot and detail but I’m not entirely sure lol editing this was more as a mental break from my current stuff than anything else and i can't remember what my original idea for this was but enjoy lmao

synopsis: in lieu of your injured partner, you’re forced to work with one of the biggest mistakes you’ve made in your college career.

Some of the most important things came in pairs; shoes, lungs, chopsticks, dance partners.  Yet much to your inconvenience, you had managed to become the mismatched sock in an otherwise perfectly organized dresser drawer of neatly rolled - and paired - socks. Four weeks before one of the largest showcases in your college career, your dance partner Jimin, a sophomore prodigy, had badly twisted his ankle slipping on black ice that had frozen along the steps outside his dormitory in the aftermath of a winter storm. While the boy would still be able to dance in a few months' time, your instructor was quick to find someone to fill in the blank. Rather than your more preferable idea of turning your duet into a solo, you were haphazardly thrown to the whims of one irksome Jung Hoseok.

It wasn't that he was terrible. It was far from that - he was too good, and he knew it.

Flawless transitions, a body that moved with all the expression, ease, grace and passion you could only hope you portrayed. His performance pushed the limits of perfection and inspired awe to those who spectated, upper and underclassmen alike. And it just so happened he would be performing in the same show with you at the end of the semester, in an effort to attract the attention of big-name dance companies. To secure a future in the industry.

Yet the unbalanced dynamic caused by a long and awkward history between the two of you seemed to threaten all of that.

"Does it hurt?"

The question sounds silly the moment it leaves your mouth, and the odd look on Jimin's face most likely mirrors yours. Obviously, it hurt. But Jimin, the angel that he was, only smiles brightly and wiggles his toes in the cast. "Only a little."

Jimin, practically a contemporary dance prodigy, still had a year to go, hence, he avoided many repercussions of not being able to participate in the show. You, on the other hand, were grinding down to the last semester at your performing arts school. While it wouldn't be impossible to get a job teaching at a studio or even at another school, it wasn't what you were looking for - wasn't what you had dreamed of.

And now, with Jimin's eyes drowning you in that well-known look of pity, that dream felt very, extremely out of reach.

You shot up out of your seat, feeling your skin crawl and your ears burn under that familiar feeling of irritation. A hot feeling filled your head with all the pent-up frustration from the situation that had long gone out of your hands. You need to get out.  For a fleeting moment, you're tempted to step on Jimin's other ankle out of pure (unwarranted) pettiness. Damn you for leaving me in a position like this.

"I just wanted to stop by and make sure you were doing alright…" You hope your smile looks more amiable than it feels.

The boy nods, extending his arms as if going for a hug, and then quickly retracting into a half wave as though he's thought better about it. Over the grueling hours and months you had spent practicing hard together, you and Jimin worked together like a well-oiled machine across the floor. You were good partners, even nearly friends, but close was something you were not. At the end of each day, you both went your separate ways. Still, it felt wrong for this to have happened and to not stop by the hospital, no matter little of value the relationship was to you.

As you reach the door Jimin calls out to you, "Are you heading to the studio?" He eyes your attire and the gym bag you shoulder as if that if not an obvious enough answer.

"Yeah."

"Is everything going okay with Hoseok?"

The fingers that rest of the doorknob curl around it in an iron grip. You glare hard at the scuffed tile floors, biting your tongue at the slight idolization you hear in Jimin's tone just at speaking the man's name. He had always been a bit of a fan.

"It's great," you lament, pushing through the doorway. "Fucking fantastic."

There is only one studio ever open past ten o'clock at night, and you are one of a handful that ever wanders in there so late at night after an already taxing day spent on these very floors. So when you arrive to find a sliver of light from the doorway and heavy bass of an R&B song trembling the walls of the corridor, the sense of frustration from earlier that evening only seems to balloon. Kicking the door open and fully intending on forcing the person out of the studio, you're stopped short by the sight before you.

Two closely intertwined half-dressed bodies, moving erratically and jammed up against a foggy wall length mirror jump apart at the sound of the door slamming into the wall behind it. You mentally wince, knowing that someone's instructor will spaz when they discover a door handle sized dent in the drywall.

Jung Hoseok stands in a sweat-sticky tee, hair tousled, slowly tucking himself back into the draws and basketball shorts that had fallen to his shins, looking a hell of a lot less perturbed than the girl he was just dick-deep inside. This - this was exactly why you refused to be partnered with him.

The girl (one you vaguely recognize from an Intro to Tap class you took on a whim) looks frazzled, struggling to simultaneously reach for her leggings and pull up her bra. She opens her mouth to exclaim in anger, but you beat her to the punch.

"What the fuck is this."

You stretch in silence. It's always like this now, as opposed to the pop music blasting over the stereo Jimin would play during warmups, the mild hellos and good mornings, the partner stretches or the comfortable small talk made between switching positions. Now, with Hoseok, the closest thing to a greeting is a nod or a grunt. Warming up is done in radio silence, save for the days like today when you remember to bring your earbuds and turn the volume too low for your new partner to hear, but loud enough to block out your thoughts and the awkward tension that's more deafening than the silence.

Today is more uncomfortable than others, for a multitude of reasons. You can hardly turn your head in Hoseok's direction, the image of him pinning your old classmate to the mirror by the arms and the flash of his bare ass forever printed to the backs of your eyelids. You say nothing to him though, having shared more than enough words when all he had replied to your outrage was with a shrugged off, "Practice."

You had cursed him and his accomplice out, reprimanding them for misuse of school facilities. A reprimanding that had, apparently, gone right over their heads, because while the girl had at first a little decency to appear sheepish, she had shoulder her way past you to the door hissing, "killjoy."

Despite the fact that the previous night's events had only amplified your cold attitude toward him, you could feel Hoseok's gaze burn hole between your shoulder blades. You had a three-hour practice together before a break for lunch, and although it had only just started, you were counting down the minutes.

Little was said for the first half, aside from "Let's try that again," and "One more time from the top,". Despite being thrown into it at a moment's notice, Hoseok is a fast learner and picks up the routine quickly. However, when it gets to the point where the instructor allows you to practice without him for the last hour and a half, Hoseok feels unnecessarily entitled to fill the void. Most days you don't mind a little constructive criticism. Yet today, when his hands unexpectedly go for your hips in the middle of a turn, you practically leap three feet in the air before stumbling out of his reach.

You whip around to face him, hands planted on your hips. "Can I help you?!"

Hoseok has known you've been on edge all day, yet the look on his face is one of genuine surprise at your outburst. He blinks. "You're moving your hips all wrong."

"Wha-?"

"Your hips," He falters when you move further away from him when he reaches for you again, sighing exasperatedly. "You look super stiff like you're trying to twist your way out of a tight pair of jeans. There's no fluidity."

Chin tilted in his direction, you keep your defensive stance, still mentally gathering your bearings. The image of bare thighs flash across your thoughts, and it takes everything in you not to screw your face up at the memory. "Excuse me? Instructor Lee said that I was doing this perfectly fine-,"

Hoseok snorts, "Instructor Lee doesn't want to hurt your fragile little feelings."

"My feelings?!" Is he not the damn professor?

"Y/N, I know what happened yesterday was a little…unprecedented. But if you want to be taken seriously at this showcase, you have to focus and be able to handle constructive criticism."

"Taken seriously?!" At this point you're just parroting what he says, his condescending tone rendering you shocked into disbelief. You've quickly gone from defensive to full offense, advancing on Hoseok. "You, of all people, are the very last person to talk to me about being serious! Especially after that stint the other night. Can't you take your private business somewhere a little more, I dunno…private? How do you expect me to just unsee whatever the hell that was? I can't sleep, Hoseok. I have nightmares. Don't you know how much this sucks? How much more stress you've caused me?!" At this point you've got a single pointer finger digging into his pectoral with so much force he bats your hand away with a hiss.

"Look, I think you're exaggerating a little too much-,"

"And I don't think you're taking this seriously enough. This isn't a game, Jung. Don't you know how much I want this?!"

"You don't think I want this either?!" Hoseok barks back, appearing more than a little miffed.

"You certainly don't act like it."

He huffs again, shaking his head dismissively. "Look, I'm not ecstatic that we got paired together so last minute either, but we could work so well together if you would just stop being so tightly wound-,"

"-You're the reason I'm so wound up-!"

"Then let me undo it!"

The words hang in the distance between you, which Hoseok tries to close in a quick succession of steps that bring him far too close for comfort.

"Excuse me?" You lean away,  tilting your chin to glaring up at him incredulously over the bridge of your nose. Is he offering what you think he's offering?

"Let me help you relax," he reiterates. "If it means you'll be more compliant."

"You say that as if this whole mess is my fault.  And as if I'd ever get comfortable enough to let you put your hands on me again," you scoff.

"Y/N… You know I can do it. You know I can get you there. It's a matter of morals, really. Stop being so stiff." Your name rolls from the depth of throat in a low growl. His hands hover by your sides as though he's fighting the urge to initiate physical contact, fidgeting fingers curling into fists. Suddenly, you're reminded of every other hapless run in you've had with Jung Hoseok for the past four years, how they all started like this and ended the same. A long progression of tension, sly looks, flirting, wandering hands and an offer that you had never taken upon until your junior year because you never thought he really meant it. You had thought were better than that and had more self-respect than all of the other girls before you who had succumbed to such encouragement on his part. But that night, when you had caved in because he was so damn earnest and you had managed to convince yourself he really did care, was the night that had solidified the true nature of your relationship and revealed the real character behind one determined, dazzling Jung Hoseok. When he had left you alone, in a stranger's bed in the heated aftermath of a house party held by the friend of a friend, only to reappear into your life the next day with another girl on his arm. You had felt played. Hence began the year-long tirade against anything and everything Hoseok related - until now.

"Having a sense of self-respect and morality makes me stiff? What, so you wanna bang me against the mirror like you did to your other little friend?" you sneer. 'I didn't think you'd take me for someone so easily. "

His eyes flash, more than likely reliving that night too, the last time you had ever really talked to him outside of the studio. You grip the hoodie that's tied lowly around his hips and yank him an inch forward so that you can nose up to his ear.

"Fine. I'll let you help me, but we'll do it my way this time."

And then you're shoving him backward, towards the balancing bar, quickly untying the knot of his sweater sleeves as you go. Hoseok trips over his own feet, all of his usual elegance and grace lost as he struggles to comprehend your intentions. He grimaces when his back hits the wall. "What are you doing?"

Blatantly ignoring him, you place your free hand on his shoulder pressing down, the other still holding the sleeves of his hoodie together. "Kneel." His brow furrows at the command, but he complies none the less, slowly sinking to the floor.

A feeling of satisfaction thrums through your veins at the sight of him like this, knocked off his pedestal and quite literally a few feet beneath you. In a single motion, you ruck the hoodie up from his waist, pulling his arms up from under his biceps in the process. Stepping closer so that you stand over his knees, Hoseok awkwardly attempts to reach for your waist, yet you slip the hoodie around his wrists and tie them to the bar in a haphazard yet decently secured knot.

"I said you're not going to lay a hand on me." You hiss, wedging a foot between his knees, you direct him to slide his feet from under himself and prop his legs up. Much to your surprise, your toes brush up on his crotch, finding him already half hard.

You flash him a mocking smile. "Already?"

Hoseok only looks down at the floor in response, cheeks flushing red with shame.

"It's alright. You've always been one to take what you want." He watches you with wide eyes as you undo the strings of your sweatpants, gaze quickly flitting to the mirror, and then the door.  "Now it's my turn."

"What about the door?"

A bolt of panic runs down your spine. It's daytime, and despite it being so close to lunch hours, it is more than likely that anyone could walk right in and catch you in the act. However, you remember the light in the hall, the unlocked door, the unworried look, and nonchalant air that which Hoseok had carried himself when you had found him and that girl, and you realized that he didn't really care. He couldn't have. It makes you all the more determined, and a little bold.

You step out of your sweatpants and gradually lower yourself into his lap, pinching his chin to divert his attention back to you in a show of bravado. "Let them see, then."

Straddling his left leg, Hoseok's eyes become impossibly wide as you begin a steady gyration over his thigh. "You've always had such nice thighs Hobi. How about you put them to some good use."

Slowly but surely you move your hips along the ridge of muscle in his leg, one hand on the balancing bar and the other on his shoulder for support. The pressure on your core brings a thrill of pleasure down your spine, heat filling low in your abdomen. A breathless sigh escapes you, and Hoseok groans at the sight before him. You nearly laugh at the sight of his petulance.

"Didn't think it would turn out like this, would it?" Knees braced on either side of his legs, you grind down harder. When your kneecap brushes the bulge between his legs, Hoseok gasps, responding with an erratic buck of his hips. He tosses his head back, hiding his face in the crook of his right arm. The answer to that question would be yes, but he senses that you're not looking for an answer; you already have one. "Leaving the door open, not even the slightest bit surprised when I came through the door. You knew what you were doing last night." You seethe in his ear. "Think of how unfair you're being; fucking her while you're thinking of me."

Hoseok growls. "Who said I was thinking of you."

"Nobody had to." You roll your hips into his thigh faster, seeking that self-satisfaction, and Hoseok hates it. He wants you pinned to the floor, beneath him, his mouth on the alluring juncture between your neck and shoulder, and his hands on any bare skin he can possess. Instead, here you are, rendering him subdued while you use his body to get you off like some kind of toy.

"I-I didn't even know that girl was coming last night. I-I was waiting for you," Hoseok confesses, albeit reluctant. "Wanted to get your attention again."

"Well, now you've definitely got it." One particular motion results in the material of your panties to chafe directly at your clit, causing you to stutter. "Oh, f-fuck!"

You're ridiculously wet, evident in the dark streaks left in the fabric of his red shorts. Hoseok gathers the strength to look at you again, moaning at the sight of you working yourself on him. He flexes his leg and you falter again, whimpering. You're close, he can tell. For a moment Hoseok fidgets against his makeshift restraints.

"I could make you feel so much better if you would just let my hands go."

"Not happening," You admonish gripping his jaw with the hand not on the bar when Hoseok tries to toss his head back again in frustration. "Look at me - no, look at me."

Your partner's replacement is forced to watch as you whine and wriggle yourself to completion on his leg. The pressure of your knee on his crotch leaves little to no relief, and yet he bucks up in a last ditch effort anyways. When you finally hoist yourself up, shiny streaks stick to some places where the edge of his shorts meets his bare skin. Hoseok nearly gawks at the site. Meanwhile, you pull yourself together, hiking on your sweatpants and turning to gather your things.

"Hey!" He realizes your intentions and begins to panic.  You throw him a bored look over your shoulder, halfway out the door. In his stupor, he recognizes it to be one far too identical to his demeanor the other night. Except for this time, it's no bluff. "Untie me?"

You raise an eyebrow.

"Please?"

Instead of granting his wish, you slowly stride over to him, pulling out your phone to snap a quick photo of him. The fantastic, Jung Hoseok, God's gift to the world of performance arts, looking disheveled, distraught and tied up to a balancing bar. It was too good to pass up.

"Okay. I've had my fun." With one good yank, you release the man from his confines and stalk out of the practice room. "But don't think it'll be happening again."

[seijorhi]

hello, im always on the hunt for new funky fresh yandere!suga content! i really enjoyed the post you made for him, it's exactly up my alley! would it be possible to request a gender neutral reader finding out just how much suga's been stalking them after they left him? by stumbling on something they shouldnt see (could be a dark room, or a journal, whatever youd like) and have him walk in on them then?

Suga will always be my first Haikyuu love, so of course!

Sugawara Koushi x Reader

TW stalking

Red Handed

When you were a little kid, your mom told you a story.

It was about a handsome man with a blue beard, the woman who married him despite the warning signs, and a locked cellar that was never supposed to be opened. You were too young to hear it, but as horrifying as it was - it stuck with you. 

Curiosity can be a dangerous thing.

But sometimes… sometimes you just can’t help yourself.

In your defence it wasn’t so much a wilful breaking of trust so much as it was an honest mistake. Sort of.

It’s not the first time you’ve found yourself pouring over textbooks and hastily scrawled notes with Suga, but it is the first time it’s been just the two of you - and the first time it’s been at his place instead of yours. 

“I give up,” you moan, letting your head fall flat against your notebook. “I’m gonna fail this stupid exam, drop out of school and have to resort to finding some rich, attractive guy to marry and support me instead.”

You’ve been at it for hours, the two of you spread out on his couch, a mountain of snacks between the two of you. You have to give Suga credit for that - the man knows how to keep you motivated to stay but this, this was beyond your limit. It’s never a good sign when you reread the same sentence five times and still have no idea what it says.

A soft laugh sounds and there’s a hand rubbing soothingly at your back, “Aw c’mon, don’t be so dramatic. You got me, right?”

You lift your head slightly to find him smiling at you with that same fond exasperation, and almost without meaning to you find your frown softening. It’s true. Suga’s pretty much your lifeline at this point - not to mention the reason you’re actually doing pretty well in most of your classes this semester. 

God only knew where he found the patience.

“What, you gonna marry me when they kick me out in disgrace?” you ask with a wry half grin, pushing yourself away from your notes. “Take care of my freeloading ass?”

Suga doesn’t say anything for a moment. You brace yourself for the lecture and/or pep-talk he’s given you a thousand and one times before, but when you glance up at him again, the look on his face isn’t the one you’re expecting.

He’s still smiling, but there’s something… odd about it. 

It’s just a flash, a flicker of something fleeting in his eyes-

You blink, and whatever it is- was - it’s gone and Suga’s looking at you with the same expression he always wears whenever you start bemoaning your future and the possibility of failing. 

Huh… your eyebrows draw together, the faintest hint of unease teasing at your gut. Just for a moment - a split second - you could have sworn that… 

But no, you’re just tired. Your brain is absolutely fried after hours studying, whatever you thought you saw, you must have imagined. Because Suga’s your friend. A good friend, maybe the best one you’ve ever had. Still… you really shouldn’t tease him like that.

“Hey, you know I’m kidding, right?” you ask, nudging his shoulder playfully. “Anyway, I think I’m done. I can’t look at these stupid notes anymore - they’re making even less sense than when we started.”

Suga sighs, rolling his neck and flipping the cover of the textbook shut. “Well I suppose it is getting late. Are you hungry? I can order some take out if you want-”

You shake your head before he can finish, “Nah, can’t tonight. I have a date,” you say, shooting him a wink. “Next time though? When everyone’s free. I feel a little guilty stealing all of your time for a one on one session as it is.”

Suga stills for a moment, glancing up to find you smiling sheepishly back at him. “Oh, a date? With that guy from class?” he asks, busying himself in tidying up the notes spread out across the coffee table. 

That guy from class. Yeah, the one you haven’t been able to shut up about for weeks. That one.

“Yeah. Nothing crazy, just dinner and a movie - still, I think it’ll be fun, y’know?” You were trying for a blasé tone, but somehow you think the slight dusting of pink on your cheeks kind of ruins it a little bit.

So maybe you were a little excited about it - it wasn’t a crime was it?

Suga gives a non-committal hum, but doesn’t say any more on the topic. Together it doesn’t take the two of you long to clean up, gather your notes and stash the snacks back away for the next study session. 

You still have enough time to dart home, have a shower and get ready, but- “Hey, before I go, is it okay if I use your bathroom?” you ask a little shyly. You guys have been friends for months, and you definitely don’t want to come across as rude, but you can’t deny there’s still something slightly embarrassing at having to ask permission.

“Yeah, of course. Down the hallway, last door on the right.”

 You nod, thanking him quietly.  

It’s a simple mistake. At the end of the hallway, there are two identical doors, both closed over.

Last door on the… left? That’s what he said, right?

You twist the doorknob, easing the door open and within a split second you know that you’ve got the wrong door because this is definitely not a bathroom, but…

Curiosity pushes you forward. 

It’s Suga’s bedroom. Your feet move like they have a mind of their own, drawing you in further into his room. You’ve never been to his place before, and you’ve definitely never been in his bedroom before, but you can’t deny that you’re curious. Surprisingly it’s not the mess that you’re expecting - the double bed neatly made and aside from a sweater tossed haphazardly across the back of a chair and a pair of jeans that hadn’t quite made it into the laundry hamper, there’s no dirty clothes littering the floor. 

You know it’s rude to pry. You know that, but in that moment you can’t seem to help yourself. Suga won’t mind, really, and it was an honest mistake.

There’s an acoustic guitar in the corner (does he play it, you wonder) and a volleyball covered in signatures sitting on one of the shelves above his desk. Even now, you know that he loves the sport with his whole heart. You’ve never been to a game before, but part of you thinks you’d like to, Suga always makes it sound so exciting. You find a smile creeping across your face as you wander over to have a closer look - there’s photo’s everywhere, in frames, pinned to a cork board on the wall - him with his family, with his friends, even one of the two of you together… and is that a medal?

You’re startled out of your thoughts by your phone vibrating in your pocket.

It should have been a wake up call, a sign from the universe to snap out of whatever nosy spell you’d managed to find yourself under and get out of Sugawara’s bedroom before he comes in to find you blatantly invading his privacy. It should have been - except instead you reach for your phone and fumble. 

You’re incredibly thankful for the carpeted floor because you can only watch in horror as your phone clatters to the ground and bounces (bounces!) under his bed.

“Shit!” you curse under your breath, dropping to your knees and resting your cheek against the mattress as you reach blindly into the dark space.

It takes a second of fumbling before your hand lands on something. It’s not your phone, you can tell that much right off the bat - it’s bigger, a box of some kind. 

You should have left it. 

Really, Sugawara’s a young, healthy guy like any other - you have an inkling of what could be inside the box. And it’s not like you want to see whatever spank bank material your friend has stashed away, you don’t, but…

But there’s a voice in your head that ignores all of that. A voice that whispers so delightfully, so eagerly, for you to just open it.

Open it, it whispers as you slide it out and set it down on the bed, settling yourself down beside it.

Open it, it whispers as you run your fingers along the wooden lid, sanded smooth except for the intricate carving in the centre. It’s strangely beautiful you think - not exactly the kind of box you can imagine filling with something so lewd.

Maybe it’s not what you think… maybe Suga has something else stashed away in this pretty little box. What else could it be? What does a guy like Sugawara Koushi have hidden away under his bed?

Open it, it whispers as your fingers find the edge and you slowly slide it open.

You immediately wish you hadn’t.

It’s you.

The photo’s a little blurry, taken from a distance and zoomed in, but it’s definitely you, lying in your bed, head thrown back with your eyes closed, bottom lip caught between your teeth-

The sheets obscure the rest, but from the flush on your cheeks and the arm disappearing between your spread legs, it’s obvious what you’re doing. 

There’s more. You with your friends, laughing. You out with your ex, maybe a month or so before you’d broken up. You in your bedroom again, a white fluffy towel wrapped around you, your hair still wet from the shower.

You walking home from class, taken from behind.

You in your favourite cafe, sitting by the window with a steaming mug in hand, staring out with a soft smile.

You tucked up on the couch, eating dinner with the TV playing in the background.

You.

You.

You.

Every single photograph was of you, and every single one of them taken without your knowledge. Pictures of you from last year, long before you ever met Suga. How long has he been-

You can’t even bring yourself to finish the thought. You feel sick, violated, your hands trembling as you flick through the images. You don’t want to see any more, but you can’t seem to stop yourself. You at the park with your friends, walking their dogs and chatting aimlessly. You bending over to pick up something, the shot framing your ass in a way that seems almost… lewd.

When did he take these? H-how had you never noticed?

Oh god, some of these are from outside your home.

Your stomach churns, you might actually vomit… 

“Got lost, baby?”

You jump at the sudden interruption, quickly snapping the lid shut and shoving the little box of horrors away from you like it’s poison, hurried excuses already on the tip of your tongue - but it’s too late for that.

One look at Sugawara, standing framed in the doorway, watching you with an eerily calm expression upon his face and you know that it doesn’t matter what you say. There’s no denying what you’ve seen. 

No coming back from it. 

His eyes drift to the box, the incriminating pictures spilled across his sheets and he sighs. “You know, I wanted to make this special for you. I wanted to do this right.” His hazel eyes flicker back to you as he steps inside his bedroom and shuts the door behind him. The soft click has never sounded so deafening. So final. “But you just couldn’t help yourself, could you? You just couldn’t keep your nose out of where it doesn’t belong.”

Your heart thumps painfully against your ribs, the sound so loud that you’re sure he has to be able to hear it too. It’s not nausea that seeps through your veins, keeping you frozen in place, but fear. Suga’s always been such a gentle presence in your life but there’s no trace of that person left as he closes the distance between the two of you. 

It’s all been a lie, a carefully crafted facade designed to pull you in. Do you even know him at all?

“S-suga, what-”

“Shh,” he murmurs, placing a finger across your lips, a soft, delicate smile playing across his features. “Didn’t your parents ever tell you that curiosity killed the cat?” He pauses for a moment, watching with wicked delight as your face pales and you jerk away from his touch with a strangled gasp. “It’s okay, baby, there’s no need to look so worried. Don’t you know I’d forgive you anything?”

His lips crash against yours before you can even think to reply. 

[yellowfang89]

It’s wild how much has happened and changed since 2010, and now going into 2020. I was going to put in a "read more" out of courtesy but for some fuck ass reason, when I came in to edit it, Tumblr isn't giving me that option and the code ain't working and now I'm slightly buzzed so what the fuck ever you can just keep scrolling if you don't care lol.

January 2010- Obsessed with Legend of the Seeker. Wrapped up finishing playing Pokemon Diamond- my first pokemon game on recommendation of my best friend at the time. My last semester of community college started.

March/April 2010- got acceptance letter to the local state college I planned on transferring to. Best friend didn’t get any notice on whether she got accepted or not, but got an acceptance letter from another college about an hour away, and decided to go there instead. After making this decision, she finally got the acceptance letter from the local state college. But she still ended up going to the hour away one. Also, I turned 21 and had my first margarita.

May 2010- Graduated community college with an AA in art. God, I remember when I used to love art.

At some point I ended up officially leaving Myspace for Facebook, kicking and screaming, because everyone had ditched Myspace for it. I hated Facebook but got used to it.

August 2010- went on a two week cruise to Alaska. Came back and started new college afterwards. Had no friends and was lonely, though kept in close touch with best friend over Facebook. Got new Macbook.

September 2010- Finally found myself in a new friend group. Saw a beautiful boy on lightrail I wanted to talk to, but had no courage to. Realized that this kind of shit was probably why I didn’t have a boyfriend, and I wanted a boyfriend for the sole reason of not feeling like a loser for never having one.

October 2010- Saw same beauty, gathered up the nerve and talked to him. Turned out he also went to my school. We started seeing each other regularly on there and things started taking off. 

November 2010- Started hanging out with him regularly, got my first kiss from him. Became an official couple.

2011- Can’t remember what months and for what, because things start blending in together. But

- Beloved cat of five years died.

- Lost my virginity

- Didn’t have much money in bank account and stressed out over it. Couldn’t get a job to rectify the situation cuz no experience.

- Started feeling guilty over the smallest things like asking to borrow a piece of paper from someone. Mentally acknowledging this was weird but also shrugging it off. 

- Lost my appetite and had food problems overall- despite always having “food problems.” Never wanted to eat.

- Distinctly remember my stomach rumbling in class and thinking, “good maybe i’ll starve to death!”

2012- Shit blended in together again this year, and for every year here on out.

- Came to the realization one day when walking to the bus that I literally would not care if someone came at me with a gun because I just… didn’t want to exist anymore. Saw nothing wrong with this.

- The thought “things would be better if I was dead” came to my brain out of nowhere. I briefly wondered if this counted as a “suicidal thought.”

-Decided to Google shit like suicidal thoughts, went down a rabbit hole that made me suspect I had depression. It explained things that I thought were off but didn’t care enough to do anything about.

- Eventually saw a counselor at school about this.

- Got a hamster. Hamster died this same year.

- Got a volunteer position at a library scanning old yearbooks onto a computer so I could have some sort of “work experience” to get a job.

- Boyfriend had got me Pokemon Heartgold earlier. I started trying to “collect them all” because why not.

- I switched from using an ethernet chord to WiFi and it changed my life. Especially since I was able to go on the GTS in Pokemon and trade, though it was fucky cuz you could only trade Pokemon you’ve already seen back then.

- Ended up getting Pokemon Black, and it introduced GTS Negotiations which allowed me to match with other trainers and trade Pokemon live. Due to this, I managed to obtain every Pokemon I couldn’t get in my other games. Except event legendaries, unfortunately. I consider this one of my greatest accomplishments and keep up with this to this day.

- Considered switching my major from Graphic Design to Digital Media because I liked my Digital Media class a lot more than my Design classes. And made that switch.

- I decided to minor in psychology because I had already taken a few psych classes for GE credits so why tf not.

- Towards the end, got a “student” job at that same library doing the same thing except with artwork instead of yearbooks. Finally had money. Depression starting to lift? But job was only a 4-8 hour a week deal so not that much money in the long run.

2013-

- Discovered demisexuality via a comment on Reddit. It described me pretty damn well. Weight lifted off shoulders I didn’t even realize was there. Things made sense omg.

- Joined Tumblr.

- Best friend came over for what turned out being the last time. She was moving to Arizona.

- Got a second job working at the tech company my Dad worked at, helping out the customer service rep.

- Slowly found myself drifting apart from friend. Depression still present. Made things hard but tbh she never contacted me either. I got the impression she was mad at me given she unfollowed me on Tumblr without explanation.

- Since not a lot of work to be done helping the csr, I ended up helping our our shipping guy and became his backup. Eventually the purchaser left on maternity leave and I took her place, eventually becoming the main purchaser because they moved her to accounts receivable.

- Decided that my depression was making me a piece of shit friend so I decided to contact best friend to see how things were, only to get a cryptic, passive aggressive, two-word response back. Ended up just dropping it and figured she’d eventually come around and tell me what was wrong. She never did…

2014

- Depression on and off due to the stress of going to work and going to school. At this point I hated all art and wanted nothing to do with any of it and only went to school for the piece of paper saying I graduated college.

- I think this was when I started calling myself gray ace instead of demi because why the hell not and I’ve only been sexually attracted to one person anyway. Possibly still demiromantic though- to this day I’m still unsure tbh.

- Boyfriend taught me to drive. I got my license. I got my first car.

December 2014- I graduated college. It cured my depression. Unfortunately, it was replaced with carpal tunnel. 

2015

- Carpal tunnel still full force. All I could do was read.

- I caught up on all the books I’ve wanted to read. Eventually came across Warrior Cats. Thought it was stupid for the first 50 pages, but then became addicted. Lost interest when I had to wait several months for the next arc to come out.

- The year I got into wrestling. I shipped Rolleigns so fuckin’ hard.

- Undertale came out and became one of my favorite games of all time.

- Find out brother is addicted to painkillers which is why he had been acting like such an ass.

- Dumped Facebook.

- Driver at the company I worked at quit. Company wants me to be “temporary” driver on top of purchasing, shipping, and assisting the customer service rep.

- Got into writing and wrote a book and continued writing off and on from then to now.

2016/2017/2018? I can’t even keep track anymore.

- Pokemon Go came out and I finally got a smart phone because of it.

- Brother gets girlfriend and then gets married after only being together a year. Brother seems to have gotten better.

- They started having marital problems almost immediately. My brother turned out being an alcoholic and fuck knows if he’s still doing drugs or not he says he’s not but he’s also a chronic liar. A lot of drama happens that I don’t want to get into. They are now divorced- after two years of marriage. 

- Got new laptop cuz Macbook got too old, although it still works.

- The company I had been working at, which had always been a shit company with no money, starts going down the shitter more than it already was.

September 2017- customer service rep quits and I have to do her job on top of purchasing, shipping, and driving. Mental breakdowns become common. Depression worse than it had ever been in my life. 

January 2018- get a 45 cent raise because minimum wage went up meaning I was now making minimum wage doing all the bullshit I was doing.

May 2018- Get new job doing ONLY shipping for a few extra bucks more an hour. Depression cured.

2019

- Got in a car accident (not my fault). Car totaled. Replaced it with a 2018 car so it’s all good.

- Experienced my first flat tire half a year later.

- Still get random bouts of depression.

- Still with same boy from 2010. Would love to move in together but fuck if I know when that’ll happen. 

- Still wondering wtf happened with my (ex) best friend and am still trying to get over it. Am considering the possibility that it was probably my depressed ass not talking to her at all for like 4 months. Unfortunately I have no way of contacting her to try and make peace because we both dumped Facebook.

- Got back into Warrior Cats.

- Dad got new girlfriend. Parents finally working on getting the divorce they wanted to get 20+ years ago but never did cuz neither one wanted to spend money on it.

- Briefly considered taking up drawing again but my skills have tanked significantly because I haven’t drawn since graduating college. Plus I’m lazy. 

- Obsessed with The Witcher.

So much has changed throughout this decade and fuck if I know how next decade is gonna turn out for me but I sure hope it's a better one.

Happy New Year to all, and to all a good night!

[aprettyaveragestudent]

#7-The Knights of the Round Table

Okay, so the next post is a little drawing at straws-y, OR it could be the greatest idea ever! We’ll see.

This one is another fanfiction reimagining the Knights of the Round Table as members of a college fraternity. It’s told from the third person perspective of an omniscient narrator.

“Chug chug chug chug”, his fratmates voices echoed through Lance’s head as he polished off the Beer he was drinking. “Done!” “Time?” asked Gaheris from a sofa on the other side of the room. “63 seconds, not bad for a pint” said Gawain, checking his phone. “Not bad? I crushed it!” “I guess it’s still the best time”, piped up Bors who was playing FIFA with a very aggravated Percy in the games room adjoining the dining room where the Knights were drinking.

“Really? I think I can take that challenge”, Galahad, the frats newest recruit, walked out of the kitchen holding a carrot. “A carrot? Really? What are you, a horse?” mocked Kay from the dining table. “Yes, a carrot, I like to actually take care of my body” “Little ironic, if you’re planning on chugging a pint of Beer in less than a minute,” said Gaheris, moving to get another bottle from the fridge. “Okay let’s say I take decent care of my body”, Galahad responded rolling his eyes. “Now give me a bottle” “Oooh, challenging Lance in your first semester here?” bold move, said Tristan, handing him a bottle. “Oh, it’s fine, my time isn’t such a big deal anyway, let’s see if we get a new champ out of this”, smiled Lance, coming to stand closer to Galahad.

“Okay, I’m ready, Gawain keep time!” Galahad chipped the cap of the bottle off with his teeth, surprising Tristan who had been trying to give him the bottle opener.  “Aaannnd, start!” Gawain hit the table and the timer on his phone at the same time. Galahad tilted his head back and began glugging back the frothy Beer from the glass bottle. The muscles in his neck moved with each sip he took and there were little streams of beer escaping his mouth and hitting the top of his shirt. “Go, go, gooooo”, Percy’s voice hit the small group of boys surrounding the round table that their frat was named after, he had finally managed to score a goal against Bors. “Oh shit he’s almost done”, whispered Kay, “I didn’t think he had it in him” “Me neither”, replied Tristan.

“Done! Time?” Galahad wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “62 seconds”, Gawain looked up, surprised. “Aha! I’m the new champ!” Galahad hit the table. “It was bound to happen sometime”, Lance shrugged and smiled. “You’re too nice to these new twerps, bro”, Kay frowned. “We’re all in the same frat, be nice to them Kay!” Lance wagged a finger at him and walked into the games room, probably to find something else to compete in. For such a nice guy, Lance was fiercely competitive and loved sparring. (Figuratively of course)

“It’s the middle of a Tuesday, what’s going on here?” Arthur, the president of the frat walked in. All the boys immediately looked up, guilty. Although he didn’t technically have much power as such all the frat members were a little scared of their intimidating senior.

“Just, you know, some harmless Beer chugging”, mumbled Kay, gesturing at the table. “Is this your way of hazing new recruits?” Arthur cocked an eyebrow quizzically at Galahad, who was still clutching the Beer. “It was hardly hazing, cuz, he won!” said Gawain. “He won against Lance?” asked Arthur, incredulous. “Golden boy ain’s so golden now, is he?” chimed in Bors, walking into the dining room, Percy trailing after him. “Aha, I guess not, not like I mind so much”, blushed Lance. “Didn’t know you had it in you, kid”, said Arthur, turning to face Galahad.  “I learned from the best”, shrugged the newest recruit, grinning at Lance. “Aww, someone has a crruuussshhhh”, teased Kay. “I do not, shut up”, said Galahad, blushing redder than a tomato. “Leave the kid alone, Kay. And all of you, maybe you should get to working or something, don’t you all have assignments to do?” Arthur looked around at his frat brothers all lounging around the house. 

“Yes, King”, his brothers mocked him, “We’ll get right to it”. But they all immediately scrambled off their sofas and headed to their rooms to pretend to work for a few hours, soon only Lance and Arthur remained in the room.

“You should really set a better example for the rest of the guys”, Arthur reproached his best friend. “I know, I know, but sometimes I get pulled into their shit too, you know how I am”, said Lance, clapping Arthur on the shoulder and gesturing at an unopened beer on the table. “Nah, I can’t right now, I have to meet Guinevere soon” “Ah, she won’t mind if you have one beer, she’s such a cool girl!” “Ah, I guess you’re right, I’ll text her and let her know though” “Wanna sneak in a quick game of 2K?” “You mean give me a chance to kick your sweet ass?” “Haha, you wish” The two boys laughed and rushed into the games room, both of them vying for the first controller.

This is just a snippet of the imagined world, I’m thinking of expanding it into a larger series, something a little larger than one Tumblr post, but I’ll have to see! I’ve currently only included some of the titular characters and placed them at the point of time when Galahad entered the fellowship, or in this case, the fraternity. I imagine that being college kids the way they prove themselves against each other is through video games, alcoholism, and perhaps a common sport (I’m leaning towards frisbee but that’s only because I play that). I tried to adapt some of their names to make them more modern, but I also didn’t want to make them too confusing so I left most of them as is. I know there’s a lot of information missing, but again, like I said earlier, I imagine this as part of a larger whole. 

[jaime-etudier]

Final Exam Tips

If you couldn’t tell by the things I’ve been reposting lately, finals week has arrived. My first exam is at 8am tomorrow (wish me luck), and I wanted to share some tips and things I’ve learned over the years. Most of this applies to both college and high school, but everyone’s method is gonna be a little different. You do you boo. 

Self Care

This is super important. It may seem like you don’t have time to worry about these things but your body is just as important as your mind. Nurture it. 

Make your bed. Every morning. If you have to wake up early to give yourself more time, do it. Someone somewhere once said “the state of your bed is the state of your head.”

Brush your teeth. Floss if you can. I know it’s a pain in the ass but it’s literally 2 minutes of your time. 

Put on chap-stick. Bring it everywhere, to all your exams, leave some in your car, in your pocket. It’s never fun to have chapped lips. 

Wash your face. Morning and night, depending on skin type, etc. This is super important to wash away all of the dirt, makeup, and toxins your skin is exposed to. It also helps to wake you up and get you started. And if you’re anything like me, stress breakouts are always a possibility.

Moisturize. Your face, your arms, your legs, etc. A good facial moisturizer and body lotion can do wonders for your skin and your mood. Do a face mask too, if you really wanna pamper yourself. 

Keep your space clean. Where you sleep, where you get ready for bed, and especially where you study. This goes back to making your bed, your surroundings play an important role in your mood and state of mind. 

Eat Healthy. Don’t skip meals, your brain needs good nutrition to function. Take it easy on the sugar, you might be on a high for a little while but the crash is real. 

Drink. Water. Lots of it. I’m terrible when it comes to this, but I find that keeping a refillable water bottle on me, one that’s easy to take quick sips from, helps a lot. You need to be hydrated in order to function properly. Drink juice to help you stay awake if you’re not a fan of coffee or tea (Idk why but this really helps). 

Stay active. Keep moving, get that blood circulating. Whether it’s running, yoga, or a walk in the park, the movement is sure to clear your mind and get those endorphins kicking. 

SLEEP. 7-8 hours, ideally. No all-nighters. Don’t even think about it. I limit myself to one all-nighter a semester, and never on the night before an exam. Your brain works to learn and memorize at night, so get your rest and study in the process.Take catnaps between study sessions if you get tired during the day, but don’t sacrifice that sacred sleep for a few extra hours of studying that will haunt you the entire next day. 

Studying

Now that you’re all zenned out, you can fill your brain with all that dope knowledge. 

Go to review days. Your teacher should explain what’s on the exam and what she expects of you, and if you skip you could miss out on important details like room and time. It may seem like skipping gives you more time to study, but you’ll be at a disadvantage in the end.

Summarize. Outline/summarize/prep class content expected on the exam. Being able to summarize content and place it in an order that makes sense shows understanding, and it’ll help you figure out what you need to work on most.  

Find study stations. Coffee shops, the campus library, bookstores, diners, you name it. Study anywhere but home, at least not alone. I sometimes crash at my friend’s place and we’ll have silent study sessions, keeping each other in check. 

Use a time management tool. I use the app Forest, or the chrome extension. When you use the timer, you plant a tree or a bush and it grows until the timer is up. I like it because when I use it on my phone, I set the timer for 25 minutes and I can’t exit the app or the tree dies. On chrome, you can blacklist certain websites that distract you, and if you visit that website during your study session, the tree dies. Don’t kill trees people. 

Prioritize. What exam do you have first? How prepared are you for it? Which exam will be the hardest/are you least prepared for? Use your sessions wisely and focus on the material you don’t know as well. 

Method. What works for you? Are you an auditory learner? Record your notes and listen to them in the car or while you work out. Kinesthetic? Rewrite your notes, make models, etc. Visual? Find good pictoral representations of your content and try drawing diagrams. It’s super important to find a study method that works for you, and everyone’s is gonna be a little different.

Come prepared. Buy pencils, scantrons, and erasers beforehand and come to your exam with everything you need (i.e. calculator). Hand lotion, chap-stick, and deep breathing are great ways to calm yourself before an exam. If you’re religious - pray, spiritual - meditate/center yourself, non of the above - have faith in yourself and your abilities. 

Dress comfy. If sweats are the way you roll, then go with it. If you feel more productive dressing a little nicer, have at it. 

Trust yourself. Stop second guessing yourself. Trust in your work. Honestly, we doubt ourselves way more than we should. Don’t underestimate yourself, love. You show that exam who’s boss. 

Celebrate. You’re done! Congrats on another exam finished, another day slayed, and another semester behind you.