#He could be such a stalker with all the posters on the wall

[pyrodolls]

admirer! yandere boy x hitman! reader

✰ warnings: murder, mentions of blood and poison, stalking, obsessiveness, regular yandere tendencies, reader is a hitman, reader is also a fake ass bitch, lowercase intended, gender neutral reader and no use of y/n. i do not condone yanderes irl or the themes in this fic.

✰ a/n: hey guys so i saw people on tiktok playing yandere simulator and implementing an admirer/stalker in the game. inspiration struck and i thought i’d write something based off of that. if this is well-liked i may write another part. i’m also hoping to write more frequently cuz it’s summer now!! expect more frequent updates and some reqs to finally be written :) also, i was hoping you guys could comment or message some name ideas for our little admirer!yandere boy…

you thought you got away with it. you were hired to eliminate a student in your class, and nobody ever found out it was you. you were able to show up to school the next week, unbothered, even though the staff and students were weeping over the loss of their classmate. you were even at the late student’s funeral, standing amongst the sea of supporters dressed in black, and not a single soul knew it was you.

except for one. it was a boy that was in your class. he sat behind you, staring at the back of your head every day, hoping you’d talk to him. hoping you’d look at him. he was completely and utterly infatuated with you. he knew your entire schedule, address, interests, and more. for someone that killed people for a living, you somehow never noticed the boy that followed you everywhere you went.

he was the one that noticed your crime. he saw when you slipped a poison into your fellow classmate’s food, and watched them cough up blood for a couple minutes before they died. if a regular student witnessed what you did, they would run away and report you. but your little admirer just stood and grinned. oh, how pretty you looked with blood on your skin. you were so skilled at your job, how could he not admire your work?

he didn’t tell a single soul. he already found out about your twisted job long ago, he just never had the luck to see it in person. it didn’t phase him in the slightest. in fact, it made him want you even more. he even went home that day and ranted to his wall about what he saw. how he wanted to go up to you and compliment your skills, how mesmerizing you were when you swiftly disposed of the evidence, how strong you were to simply go on with your other classes as if nothing happened.

the week after that student’s funeral, it was deemed a self-inflicted death. there were new posters all over the walls with phrases such as: “you are loved!” or “you are not alone!” to prevent the incident from occurring again. your stalker felt overjoyed. you were getting away with it! he couldn’t be more proud of you. he decided to let you know how he felt as quickly as possible. he couldn’t keep it a secret anymore.

during your first class, you felt a tap on your shoulder. the scrawny boy behind you held up a small, folded sheet of paper with shaky hands. you took the paper and gave a fake smile to the boy. when you opened the note, you read: “meet me on the roof during lunch.”

you had to keep up your “friendly” reputation at school, so you couldn’t reject him. that’s why you reluctantly went up to the roof.

however, he was panicked. he immediately regretted his decision the moment you read his note. he couldn’t focus during his other classes because of how nervous he was.

but he couldn’t just leave you hanging, so he went up to the rooftop anyway.

“so.. what’s your na-“

“i love you!” the boy blurted out, interrupting your attempt at a kind greeting. his sudden confession left you speechless, and you had no clue how to respond.

he waited for your answer, hoping you weren’t disgusted. he stood with his hands tightly gripping his shirt, staring at the floor. he was too scared to look up at your face.

after a painfully long minute, he opened his mouth again. “i… have been watching you for a while. i am in love with you. every day, i only think of you. i kept it a secret for a while, but after i saw how you killed that studen-”

you quickly pinned him to the wall with your arm buried into his neck. “shut your mouth!” you scolded, looking around to see if anyone heard him.

“listen man, i don’t know who you are. but you’re sounding like a real fuckin’ freak, and you saw what i did. give me one good reason why i should spare your life.” you threatened.

“i’m on your side! i swear! i meant that i was amazed by what i saw! i’ve always been in love with you, but seeing what you did made me fall even harder. you looked so good with blood on your face, by the way.” he babbled, pathetically choking out praises in hopes that you would believe him.

you scoffed. “and how do i know you’re not coming up with some random bullshit so i don’t kill you?”

“i never reported you! it’s been a week and i never told a single soul what i saw. if i didn’t love you, i would’ve told someone. but i didn’t! because i really, truly love you. please give me a chance, i’ll be the best boyfriend ever! i’ll do your homework, i’ll cook and clean for you, and i know all your favorite shows and movies so i can talk to you about them!” he rambled.

as fun as that sounded, you really weren’t looking for a boyfriend at the moment. you were too busy. besides, even if you did want a boyfriend, this guy would be nowhere near your top picks.

“i don’t want a boyfriend. i don’t even know you! plus, no matter what you say, you still saw what i did. i won’t let you leave this roof alive.” you declared.

“nononono please, i’ll help you! i’ll assist you in killing people or something. i’ll do anything to prove my love. just give me a chance to be with you. listen, you can give me a month, and if you still don’t like me, you can kill me.” he proposed.

you thought about it for a moment. it didn’t sound like a bad idea. this guy’s willing to be a free, personal assistant. he could take a lot of weight off your chest if he helped with your work. and you knew a guy this scrawny could never beat you in a fight, so if anything goes wrong, you can eliminate him easily.

“you got yourself a deal, pipsqueak. you have 30 days. impress me, and maybe i’ll let you off the hook. but if you snitch on me, or if i still don’t like you by the end of the month, i’ll snap your neck.”

“so you’re giving me a chance? thank you so much! i won’t let you down.” the boy cheered.

you sighed. “you better not.”

it’s gonna be a long month.

[astridthevalkyrie]

the floor between you and xavier is thin. you are beautiful. and xavier is tortured.

cw: afab reader, masturbation, nonconsensual auditory voyeurism 😭, xavier being a pervert

i have a midterm in two hours and i spent the last two hours writing all of this. dammit. inspired by this brilliant post (original poster is @skynapple) thank you for giving me permission to write this lolz

once a habit forms, it is incredibly difficult to break. he knows that. he has known that. xavier has had years and years and years to make habits and to subsequently break them.

those twenty-something years he was a nail biter. the tugging of his hair whenever he was tired for around thirty-two decades. six hundred years strong and he still can’t keep a straight face whenever he smells something his nose doesn’t agree with. 

some habits he’s fine with not breaking. 

but this one.

oh, he needs to break this one as soon as possible.

and yet, every friday evening he tells himself that this time will be the last time. when friday morning arrives, he wakes up refreshed and confident that it will not happen again. by the time the clock hits 3 pm, he can already feel his palms become clammy; if he was a cartoon he’d think an ironic bead of sweat would form on his temple. and by the time the sun is going down and the rain has soaked his hair completely, xavier is shoving his too practical key into the too practical lock of his apartment door, and the dread in his chest has already settled with the weight of what he knows he’s going to do.

he could leave. he could go.

he doesn’t.

xavier takes his time changing out of his uniform and showering. the water burns even when he sets it at a lower temperature. his entire space feels too hot. sweat is actually building on his forehead now. 

it’s been a long week, he thinks, as he rolls onto his bed, opting to wear nothing but boxers (and even that’s useless). he tries to remember all the missions he’s been on since monday, and more importantly all the missions you’ve been on. you’re a bit of a braggart, so he hears all about them, and he never minds, because he could listen to you brag about yourself for centuries on end and the whole time he’d only nod along and agree.

the more missions there’s been, though, the more exhausted you are at the end of the week. and the more exhausted you are, the more orgasms you try to pull from your fingers every friday night.

when tara’s over, your music is never loud. your laughs rarely carry over. and your volume has never been disruptive (not that he would consider hearing you to be disruptive at all). it’s as if you know that the walls are thin and you’re trying to be as polite as possible. 

then why is it that when you touch yourself, you’re so loud?

are you trying to make sure he can hear you?

or, and this is what already has him hardening at the thought, are you just so sensitive that you can’t help it?

your first whimper blesses his ears, and xavier shuts his eyes, lying flat with his head against his pillow. closing his eyes helps. it makes him feel less like a stalker who’s crossed through time and space for you, and more like he’s just someone you care for, because this way he can imagine you’re in front of him, on top of him, letting out those first few sweet sounds at his touch.

“mmh,” your voice carries over, and goosebumps litter his arms as he swallows, teasing the line of his boxers with the tips of his fingers. there isn’t a rush. usually, he has just enough restraint to make sure he comes with you.

the next thing he hears is a sharp gasp, and xavier groans lowly, trying to be quiet, or at least more quiet than you. already he’s building tonight’s fantasy up, spurred on by the sound of the rain beating against the window. the last time you and he had spent the night in the rain…

“just stay until tomorrow morning,” you’d urged him, lashes fluttering innocently, not knowing the key that he’d supposedly forgotten was heavy in his pocket. even though he was the one who’d lied, he’d still argued against it, because now that the invitation was out in the open you were too close for his rapidly beating heart, your eyes too inviting and your hands too soft.

xavier imagines he didn’t argue that night. he imagines he’d agreed instead, and had accepted the change of clothes from your closet. the acid in his chest that hisses knowing you even have another man’s clothes in your closet is quickly silenced when you don’t wait for him to leave the room, and instead lift your own shirt right above your head.

he’s never seen you like that. but his imagination is more than ready to supply him with what you’d look like, evidence gathered from how your uniform would cling to you while you fought, or even from how your robes would slip up a little when you were sparring him some hundred years ago—

his hand wraps around his cock without him even realizing it, and he lets out a small, choked moan.

your hands are softer than this. they’d feel better. in the corner of his mind he sees you, topless, pushing him back onto the bed and crawling above him, caressing his face with those soft hands before running them down his chest. your touch does so love to wander. and his body is yours to explore. he’s never belonged to someone else.

he whispers your name and almost as if in response, you let out a cute little squeal, and xavier curses under his breath as he pictures you making that sound while he fingers you. he’d start off with one, just because you seem sensitive. but then he’d add another. and another, and then he’d watch you ride them. 

slowly, he rubs his hand up and down his length, remembering the last time you’d held this hand to resonate with his evol. last week, for a particularly tough wanderer. your palm had been smooth against it, and now the next time you do it he’ll remember that he touched himself to the thought of you with that same hand.

“mmh, don’t tease me…”

oh, you’re speaking today. pleading with an invisible voice, or maybe you really do know that he’s just below you, hanging on to your every word. and he’s disinclined to acquiesce to your request—he’d do nothing but tease you. once he’d make you come once with his fingers, he’d toss your legs over his shoulders and drag his tongue along your folds, bring you to the brink before pulling away. he’d watch the way your lips pout and the way your eyes flare up whenever you’re emotional, and he wouldn’t give you time to complain before diving in again.

“sorry, sweetheart, you know i can’t help it.”

xavier’s eyes fly open with a gasp at the sudden other voice—there’s someone with you. there’s someone in your room, on your bed, with their hands on you. 

there’s a pause, and then he hears you again, letting out a small, “y-you’re so…haah, mean…”

one of his hands curl into the sheets below, clutching them so tightly in his fist that he wouldn’t be surprised if they came off.

someone is touching you. someone is making you—incredible, wonderful, beautiful you—whine like that, close enough to hear you, far closer than xavier has ever been.  

“i’m not mean,” the man who is invading your bedroom right now says, “you can’t look like that and expect me not to edge you. you’re the most beautiful when you’re begging, you know?”

“i could say the same about you,” is your not-so-hushed response, and during the next pause he can barely hear anything but he knows you must be kissing him. him, whoever he is. a date, your boyfriend, the devil—you’re kissing him, those soft, gorgeous lips of yours are against someone else’s when all xavier has done in his time with you is try to tear his eyes off those lips, wondering what they would like against him.

“c’mon,” your voice pleads again, “i need you. i’ve needed you all day.”

the man groans, and xavier hears the kiss this time, one fierce and stolen in the heat of the moment. 

“if you insist. you know i can’t resist you, sweetheart.”

there’s some shuffling and xavier thinks his heart is going to beat out of his chest. he feels…he feels everything, sick and jealous and almost angry, and he can feel himself trembling with every inch of him screaming to get up and confront whoever thinks they can touch your skin and draw those noises from your throat—

but when you let out a high-pitched, muffled cry, xavier’s hand goes back down, and he starts stroking himself with more urgency.

you’ve never been this loud before. and xavier used to enjoy that, thinking of it as a challenge, that if he ever got to have you, he’d make sure you were louder with him than you were with anyone else. he’s brought himself to orgasm at just the idea. but now it’s torture, hearing your voice go up several octaves for someone who isn’t him, for whoever’s hips are roughly colliding against your own, filling his ears with a muted plap, plap, plap…

“fu-u-ck, baby, how are you this tight?” the interloper groans, “gonna make me come, m’gonna come inside you…”

xavier’s skin crawls at the needy moan you let out in response.

the fantasy in his head is ruined. there is no more vision of a seductive version of you having your wicked way with him, but instead he is imagining exactly what is happening, a dirty picture of him in a corner watching someone else enjoy you to the fullest extent. wrecking your beautiful body the way you deserve.

your moans are building, higher and higher, and his back is arching off the bed as he fucks his fist, still trying to pretend like he’s yours and you’re his, that he’s the one burying himself inside your wet heat, that your nails are digging into his back, leaving lines on his skin, drawing blood if that’s what you wanted—

“raf!” you wail, and your voice breaks, and xavier’s eyes roll back, and he spills into his hand.

there’s still a ringing in his ears as he pants, breathing heavily while the sound of skin slapping becomes more desperate, as the intruder—raf— speeds up to try and reach his own end too.

his hand moves on its own. with barely an intention formed in his mind, he presses it to his heart, and he feels a surge of energy run through his chest, no time left to regret anything.

the sounds stop completely.

after a minute, his phone lights up with a notification.

starlight: hey did your lights go out too???

starlight: my room just blacked out

starlight: i had a friend over i’m so embarrassed lol

with his chest heaving as he lays back against the pillows, and his right hand sticky, xavier texts you back with his left, a soft, tired sigh escaping him.

xav: no mine’s still on

xav: i’ve got tea and takeout come over

xav: i’d love to meet your friend

[chrissv4mp]

- I COULD CHANGE YOUR LIFE —

chap 3 , come visit me in jail — | — ...back — | — next...

summary: the morning after you and chris bond, he just seems to fall deeper in love with you and your amazing personality. he falls so deep that when he sees a negative comment on your recent instagram post, he feels he has no choice but to do something about it.

pairing: stalker!chris × singer!reader

warnings + topics: cursing, stalking, weapons, murder, blood, obsessive behavior, breaking & entering, crying, chris is crazy, choking, drowning, etc. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO THESE TOPICS.

author's note: here's where it starts to get intense.....👀

author's note 2: series title mention in this one has me floating🗣🗣

word count: 6.6k

"bet i could change your life."

y/nwhosthat

liked by nicolassturniolo, oliviarodrigo and others

y/nwhosthat you're never gonna believe it

view all 678 comments

mysteriousman no tag in the first photo i see....

-> y/nwhosthat didn't even know there were tags on this app??

-> y/nsonlylove says the girl who uses them in every single one of her posts🙁 u got them searching for answers now

hearts4chrissy i know my man's hands when i see them chris honey come home💔

latinosfory/n they are reaching omg😭

matthew.sturniolo all these rumors and im still focused on the frank ocean lyrics🤷‍♂️

-> y/nwhosthat everyone should be focused on his inspiring lyrics

-> wishingherwell MATT???

theyenvy.michael ugly ass girl tf get off this app👎

chris feels a sudden anger wash over him as he reads the most recent comment on y/n's post, and his hand wraps even tighter around his phone before he clicks on the guy's profile.

he's 20, and he's also in boston. chris scrolls down, cringing at his weird objectifying comment in his bio, "ho's are only useful in the kitchen, i stand by my statement🤷‍♂️"

fucking douchebag, chris thinks as he scrolls down on his page. he clicks on michael's recent post and is met with a mirror picture of the boy in his messy bedroom. there's posters of half-naked girls and polaroids of him and his friends on the white walls behind him.

he scrolls left, and there's a video. chris doesn't even need to watch it because when he sees the first frame, he already knows he might lose it. the first frame shows off michaels blurry foot only inches away from a small puppy on the side of the road. the brunette feels sick already. how many red flags did this guy have?

another scroll and chris finds himself looking at a blurred picture of michael and his friend hugging. only one normal photo in this entire dump. chris doesn't even want to scroll down further on his page.

as he turns off his phone and throws it to the side, his free hand clenches into a fist. chris has never felt this angry before, and just the thought of michaels comment makes him even angrier.

before getting up, he grabs his phone. he runs up the stairs, heading straight for nicks room as he barges in. he stands at the doorway and watches as his brother jumps in shock.

his hair is still messy, not having time to do it before chris came in, "chris, what the fuck!"

"oh my god, you almost gave me a heart attack. fuck you," the older boy grumbles before walking over to his bed and sitting at the edge, "what'd you need?"

nick's tone is softer now, and he pats the side of his bed in a motion for chris to come over and sit. chris does just that, taking a few deep breaths before he throws himself back against his brothers bed.

"i don't know. i wanted to ask if you've ever felt so angry that you just wanna destroy everything around you." chris sighs, propping himself up on his elbows to look at the dark-haired boy beside him.

he just laughs softly, nodding, "yeah, almost always. why, what's going on?" there's a subtle look of concern on his face, and chris frowns.

chris shrugs, eyes trailing off to look at the wall across from him, "i was... reading comments, and i saw one that infuriated me like nothing did before. and, nick, i know you've told me not to let 'em get to me, but..." he takes his lower lip between his teeth, "this time it was on a loved-ones post, and i can't control it anymore."

nick frowns, his concern rising as his eyes meet his brothers, "okay. just talk to me, i don't want you doing anything... bad this time. remember what matt and i have told you to do when you feel that way. take deep breaths, yeah?"

chris' eyes widen at his brother's first words, his chest feeling tighter as he suddenly finds it harder to breathe. his mind wanders back to that night.

"hey!" a man's voice is heard from behind chris and his brothers, and the younger boy is the first to turn. he recognizes that voice, and it only ticks him off further.

chris waves his hand, a small gesture that even makes him cringe. why was he wasting his energy on this dick? the guy doesn't wave back, only scoffing as he stomps in chris' direction.

"what's up?" there's a faux look of happiness on the brunettes face as he steps forward, now right in front of the much taller guy, "c'mon, talk that shit you were spitting all over madi's posts, you weren't scared when you posted it."

the brown-eyed man laughs, tilting his head as he squints his eyes at chris, "i'm not scared now, either. the fuck? i said she was a dumb bitch who can't even—"

chris doesn't even let him finish, his head filling with so many thoughts he couldn't even comprehend. his entire body felt hot, like he was on fire. the one thought that was screaming out to him finally pushed it's way in front, kill him.

he lands the first hit on the guys cheek, and it's not soft. he doesn't stop either, his free hand coming up to punch the man in the stomach. his motions are quick, and he doesn't give the man time to think before punching him right in the nose.

the blond stumbles back, coughing as his nose leaks red down to his lip. his head turns back up, looking right as chris before he stomps up to him and swings right at his face.

nick gasps as he watches chris fall to the ground, his lip and nose already bleeding red. matt comes up to the guy, standing between his brother and the infuriated man in front of him, "hey, hey, let's calm down, yeah? this was a misunderstanding."

"misunderstanding? no, i don't think it is. i know what i said, and i'm not gonna take it back. who even are you, you look like a fuckin' mamas boy."

matt inhales sharply, looking back up at the man before he begins to speak again, "listen, we don't want this to get any more violent than it's already become. let's just talk about it?"

the taller man laughs, wiping his bloodied nose with the back of his hand as he looks down at matt, "nah, you're little boyfriend over there can speak for himself. wait, he can't, can he? pussy ass bitch."

chris groans as he stands to his feet, nick hurrying to grab him before he does anything worse and possibly get sent to the hospital.

matt only sighs, his skin starting to crawl slightly at the man's words, "we're not doing this, sir. my brother didn't mean anything, and we're sorry, okay? let's just leave it at that."

he feels himself get pushed back, and only then does he look up at the brown-eyed boy.

"matt, let's go." nick calls from behind him, eyes moving to the beaten-up guy in front of his two brothers, "we're leaving, it's over now!" he yells to the guy, dragging chris by his shoulders in the opposite direction.

chris struggles against his older brothers grip, and when he digs his nails into nicks skin, he finally lets go. matt is pushed out of the way as chris lunges toward the man.

his hands go for his neck, squeezing tightly as they both stumble to the ground. chris' fall is shielded by the body under him, but the older man's fall isn't. chris doesn't hear the crack as they fall to the floor, his head pounding so loudly he can barely even hear his brothers screaming at him to stop.

but he doesn't, tears brimming in his eyes as he remembers the look on his best friends face as she showed him. chris never wanted madi to feel that way ever again, and he was gonna make sure she never did.

"chris, get the fuck off of him!" matt almost screams, his voice low as to not alert anybody around the area.

nick stands there in shock, the empty parking lot now feeling much bigger than it was. he felt like if he ran he would never be able to escape.

chris sobs as matt drags his weak body off the unconscious guy, holding his brother in his arms as they fall to the floor softly. matts grip is tight on his younger brothers waist as he holds him close, his eyes wide in fear as he watches blood pool around the blonds head.

"fuck. i'm sorry, matt," chris doesn't know what else to say, he doesn't even know why he's apologizing to his brother, "'m sorry, i—i didn't mean to.."

matt drowns out the sound of nick gagging behind him as he tries to reassure the brunette in his arms, shushing his softly as he looks around for any passerby who maybe saw what happened.

nick is hunched over, his back facing both of his brothers as he throws up. this wasn't the type of night he was expecting, and it sure as hell was the one he's experienced, "oh my god, chris."

"did you fucking kill him..?" nick gags again at the thought, not even being able to turn around to look at the body.

"chris." the brunette jumps at the sudden voice, his eyes snapping towards his brother as he finally comes back to reality, "were you listening? i said that—"

"yeah, yeah. i was... listening." chris smiles sweetly before jumping off the bed and going to leave, "thanks, nick. seriously."

the taller boy smiles, and chris gives him an awkward wave before closing the door and making his way down the stairs.

his fingers run across the handrail as he descends down the stairs, the smooth texture soothing him in the slightest but then being taken away as he turns the corner to the kitchen.

eating would get his mind off things. plus, he hasn't eaten since lunch yesterday, going straight to bed after he got home from y/ns house. he felt like he had the world in his hands and he didn't want anybody to ruin that, so he just slept.

sleeping always made him feel better, more energized, and somehow even happier. but when he woke up and had to face the real world, he just felt weaker, smaller. he felt like all eyes were on him and everybody around him was judging him.

as chris reaches for a cabinet, his phone buzzes in his back pocket. great, just what he needed. grabbing it, he unlocks it with his face and then swipes down for his notifications. his face lights up, and his lips curve into a smile as he sees y/ns username at the top.

he quickly taps on the text, holding the device with both hands as he leans against the corner of the counter, now too focused on his phone to even remember what he came in here to do.

chris' demeanor changes quickly at the new information that michael is y/ns ex-boyfriend. he hasn't let her go, and that was gonna be a huge obstacle in his plan.

he'd need to get rid of him, and he'd need to do it quickly. they always sooner than later, right? it's better to get the job done first than to set it aside and maybe even forget about the task.

chris also wasn't interested in seeing michaels comments on y/ns posts any longer. sure, this was the first time he's seen them, but the boy definitely wasn't gonna stop and chris never wanted to see that fucking profile picture again.

so, that's how he found himself running down the second flight of stairs and down the hallway to his room. he knew what he needed, he thought about this entire thing before he'd even met michael. he was planning on using this for jamie, but then he wouldn't be able to hear your beautiful voice for way longer.

michael was the perfect victim as well. he wasn't well known, and he sure as hell wasn't a likable person, so who would miss him or even notice his sudden disappearance? fuck, even chris wouldn't and he was gonna be the one doing the job.

the door to his room swung open, and chris immediately headed for his walk-in closet, shutting the door as to make sure no one would see him. he couldn't have his brothers knowing, they'd probably put him in a mental institution this time.

chris turned around, back facing the door as he moved his shirts, spreading them apart to reveal the small shelf behind the clothing articles. there was another black box, but this time it was wooden and a little bigger than the one he kept for y/n.

he wasn't careful when opening the box, throwing the lid behind him and hearing the small thud as it landed on the carpet. he reached into the box, pulling out a safety pin to unlock the doors. the last thing he pulled out was a lengthy knife, the handle fitting perfectly in his grip.

chris didn't know anything about actual murderers, but he definitely got a good knife to do the job. maybe he wouldn't even have to use it, he didn't really want to, either. he wanted his hands around that boys neck while he begged for chris to take mercy on him.

he wanted to see tears brimming in his eyes as the life was being squeezed out of him, slowly. chris knew that he wanted michael to have a slow death, a painful one, and suffocating was definitely up on his list.

before rearranging his closet again, chris placed the lid back on and grabbed his items. he took his backpack as well, storing the 2 small items in there along with some binders to cover them up. he was sure someone would recognize him out here, and he wasn't gonna risk anything.

he slipped on a dark grey hoodie along with a black jacket, finishing off the outfit with some black jeans and a pair of black air forces. it was a sketchy outfit, but who cared? chris was breaking into someone's house. he didn't need to be stylish right now.

all that was on his mind was michael and the many options of how he could do this. chris paced back and forth in the empty space of his room, rubbing his temples in an effort to soothe the growing headache that he was facing. his mind was screaming with every possible thought imaginable, some of them telling him to back out and others telling him to man up and stop being a pussy.

chris would hold off a little longer, though. it was still bright out and he wasn't gonna do this in the daylight, he wasn't that uneducated in things like this. he'd watched some serial killer documentaries, so he'd say he knew... stuff.

it was 2:55 when he stopped thinking about the entire thing, his head going elsewhere as hunger overcame him. now he remembered what he was in the kitchen for earlier, a snack.

as chris walks up the stairs, he sees matt leaning against the kitchen counter on his phone. there's a smirk on his face as he chuckles softly at whatever he was watching.

the microwave is on, the buzz being the only sound other than matts quiet breathing and chris' footsteps entering the kitchen. he's still dressed in his black outfit, and matt puts his phone to the side just to look his brother up and down.

"are you on your way to a funeral or..?" matt questioned with a smile on his face, cocking an eyebrow at chris as he finally stepped foot into the kitchen. the first thing he did was grab a pepsi, setting it on the dining table before leaning down to open the freezer.

"no, just decided to wear whatever i first saw. i'm going out with sam tonight, so i probably won't be back until late." chris hums as he pulls out a mini pizza before walking over to where matt is standing.

matt moves over slightly, looking up to check the timer on the microwave only to see it's been just a few seconds. he groans as his head turns back to chris, watching as he takes the frozen pizza out of the box and sets it on a metal pan.

he preheats the oven and then lets the pizza sit on the stove as he goes over to sit at the table. matt joins him soon after, deciding to chat with his brother to pass the time.

"where are you goin'?" the older brunette asks, picking at the hang nails that stood out on his fingers. he winced as he pulled one off, shaking his hand by his side in an effort to stop the pain.

chris looks over at his brother, emotion unreadable as he stares at his brother with nothing behind his eyes, "oh. we're gonna.. meet up with this guy. he says he's got somethin' to show us."

matt nods, confusion washing over him as he sees chris' dilated pupils. it couldn't be the lighting, they just replaced the bulbs and it wasn't even dark yet. what was he thinking about?

"cool...? just be safe, i don't want anything bad happening to you." matt huffs, patting his brothers shoulder before getting up to check on his food.

chris turns in his seat, watching as matt stops the microwave and takes out his bowl of ramen, "i'm always safe, don't worry about me, matt. we're the same age, and you treat me like a baby."

matt raises both of his eyebrows in an exasperated manner, grabbing a fork out of a cabinet as he blows on the steaming bowl, "yeah, i wonder why."

chris laughs, "fuck off, matt." his brother chuckles as he walks past chris and back up the stairs to his room, leaving chris alone with his thoughts. again.

the brunette made a quiet beat on the table, tapping it and nodding his head as he recreated the beat to one of his favorite songs. once the oven beeped, chris got up and placed the metal tray into the oven and set a timer.

chris went to sit back down, stopping when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket again. this time, it wasn't a text from y/n, but a dm from her ex. michael.

theyenvy.michael — the fuck is you trying to steal my girl for?

you — im not? y/n is just my friend, kid. also aren't u her ex? ong ur trying too hard

theyenvy.michael — nah, she's my bitch fr. stay tf away from her, aight?

you — right. bcuz she's totally okay with u calling her a bitch. get tf off my dick....

you — she fr dodged a bullet when breaking up w you. ur profile is not it.

theyenvy.michael — ur not bouta dodge my bullet👎 watch out bro

chris scoffed, cracking open the lid of his pepsi as he took a sip. who did this kid think he was? chris wasn't scared of him. if anything, michael should be afraid. he should be terrified of what's about to happen tonight.

but he's not gonna be because he's not gonna know. chris loved taking people by surprise, jumping out at the perfect moment, and having a good laugh about it. only tonight, chris would be the only one laughing. chris would be the only one still alive to laugh.

the brunette glanced at the time again, 3:20. he didn't want to wait but he had to, nobody could see him. if anybody did, he would be the main suspect in the murder. chris couldn't even have a single thing that would point at him. chris couldn't even have y/—

"chris!" nick's voice breaks chris out of his trance, his head snapping towards the staircase that nick basically flies down, "oh my gosh, you're never gonna believe me!"

the brunettes eyes widen in terror, his mind racing with endless ideas as he looks to his brother for answers, the same expression on his face, "what? nick, what happened?!"

nick squealed, gripping onto chris' shoulders as he shook him violently, "there's a track on y/ns new album featuring melanie!"

chris' face drops, and he almost shoves his brother to the floor as he stands to his feet, "you are by far the worst person to announce news ever." he scowls, turning around to check on his mini pizza.

"come on, it's huge news! i seriously didn't know that y/n and melanie knew each other and oh my gosh! the song title just makes me even more excited—" nick trails off as he stares at chris, who is taking the metal tray out of the oven and placing it on the stove.

"and you're not listening." nick frowns, and chris parts his lips to speak.

"oh, no, i am. i just don't find this topic interesting, seeing as you're the only person in this house who cares about melanie martinez." chris shrugs, and nick raises an eyebrow at the boy as he leans against the dining table.

"what's up your your ass? you were just all happy-go-lucky, and now you're acting like a dick. did someone say something or...?" nick asks, head tilting in confusion as he watches chris transfer his pizza to a paper plate.

the younger brunette sighs, letting his shoulders relax as he shuts his eyes softly, "sorry. i'm just stressed, there's a bunch of things on my mind right now."

"like what?" nick pushes quietly, taking chris' previous seat the table.

chris stays silent, eyes opening again as he holds his breath. once his face begins to turn red, he speaks, "uh, work. social media, stuff like that."

nick sighs, nodding, "we can always take a break, you know?"

a break, seriously? chris thinks to himself. how could chris ever catch a break and let himself relax while all this was happening around him? he had to keep y/n safe, he had to get rid of anything and anyone who bothered her, and he had to film videos with his brothers. he just couldn't find time to let himself rest.

"i can't." he finally mutters, staring down at the marble counter as his fingers tap against it. he hears nick get up behind him.

then, he feels a hand on his shoulder, "you can, chris. just take things slow, focus on yourself for a little while. i promise you'll feel better." his voice is soft, calming, reassuring.

but chris doesn't know if he can trust that little change of tone. it wasn't that easy to just let everything go, not for him at least.

he couldn't even let a simple comment go past him. chris just always needed to do something about it and he hated it. he hated that he was like this. why was he like this?

chris didn't even know he crying until nick started to pat his back, muttering, "it's okay, i got you. let it out."

what was happening to him?

christophersturniolo

liked by ysbtril, matthew.sturniolo and others

christophersturniolo impulse

view all 238 comments

matthew.sturniolo kids off his meds

-> christophersturniolo kid is alive

y/nwhosthat u said u were going to sleep, ur really breaking my heart christopher💔

*liked by creator*

-> trevssturn these secret relationship rumors are starting to become a lil believable...

-> matthewslovee babe the rumors are based off one post😭 let's settle down

nicolassturniolo oh brother what's he on about now

-> christophersturniolo shhh im plotting👀

xx4mygf notice how the only comment he hasn't replied to is y/ns

theyenvy.michael im ong coming for you lil boy

-> christophersturniolo stop meat riding bru

8:45, chris stood on the sidewalk across from michaels house. he turned his head down, looking at the picture he had screenshotted of a car, michaels car in his driveway.

he found it when scrolling deeper, almost throwing up at all the horrific things he found on the page. he was surprised nobody had reported him yet, he was sick. michael had also been stupid enough to take a picture of himself right in front of the 4 numbers on his house.

as for the street, well chris didn't need to search much for that either. again, michael led him right to it, posting a video of himself walking down the sidewalk with his friends as they laughed about something stupid.

chris was waiting here for a few minutes, pacing up and down the sidewalk so as not to seem suspicious and get caught by michaels neighbors. he didn't want to get asked any questions today, especially not when he was right in front of his first victims house.

as he started to get impatient, chris looked around before running across the street and quickly jumping the fence. he landed on his feet perfectly and quietly snuck to the back door of the house, looking around the house through the sliding glass door.

sliding his backpack off his shoulders, he kneeled in front of the lock, grabbing the safety pin before sticking it into the key-hole and twisting it around. he took his bottom lip between his teeth in concentration as he continued to try and pick at the lock, smiling when he heard the click.

as he stood up, throwing the safety pin somewhere behind him in the grass and throwing his backpack on his shoulders again, he slid the door open carefully. he listened to the soft sounds of the neighborhood, trying to pick up any sound of talking or footsteps coming closer.

when he didn't, he threw the door open and stepped in before shutting the door again. his fingertips slid across the dusty frame of the door carelessly before he shut it again and traveled deeper into the house.

his eyes landed on the freezer first before roaming all around the kitchen. it was trashed, like nobody had lived here in ages and rats had taken over, but there were none, only open chip bags and splatters of unknown sauce. crumbs adorned the floor, crunching under chris' feet as he took steps toward the fridge.

what's the harm in getting a little snack? he was hungry due to walking here all the way from his house, and michael wouldn't mind. he would he gone, so who would care?

chris grabbed an orange popsicle from the freezer before closing it and making his way to the living room. he took a seat at the couch, putting his feet up on the coffee table as he licked at the frozen treat.

when the brunette had finished it, he threw the damp stick into the garbage by the entertainment center before walking to the window at the front of the house. he kneeled in front of his, elbows resting on the windowsill as he waited for michael.

as he waited, his backpack suddenly felt heavier on his shoulders, the feeling of guilt and regret starting to wear on him. was he seriously gonna do this? it wasn't like he didn't want to. it was just that... he didn't even know, honestly.

he knew he was doing it for him and y/ns relationship, so they could live happily with no distractions or obstacles. but, then again, they would still have to face arguments, the publics opinion, and the many rumors that would start to spread. that's why, when chris finally gets you, you'll both flee the city and live somewhere together. alone where nobody could find you guys.

sure, chris would have to explain why, but it didn't matter. if you really loved him, you wouldn't care the things he's done to get there. or maybe you will. maybe you'll hate him and turn him into the cops. if that's the case, then chris might just have to get rid of—

"hey!" chris jumped at the muffled sound of a mans voice, and he turned his head to look in the direction of it, "come on, oscar."

it was michael, tugging roughly on the leash of his dog so as to get him to follow michael. the dog did follow him, his head hung low as his paws patted the concrete below them with quiet thuds.

chris just wanted to rush him right now, but he couldn't. he had to wait until he was inside, catch him off guard in the safety of his own home where he thought everything was normal. he would take care of the dog later in a... better way than what he'd do with his owner.

he jumped back as he heard the brown-eyed boys' footsteps, leaving the windowsill as he made his way further into the house. he hid in a closet down the hallway, shutting the door with a quiet thud as he stayed as still as he possibly could.

the door opened, and chris heard the click of the leash being undone, followed by the footsteps of both michael and oscar. chris watched through the blinds of the closet as michael put his dog into the metal kennel before shrugging his own backpack off and placing it on top of the kennel.

he walked down the hallway, and chris swore he felt michaels eyes staring right into his. he shuddered at the feeling, tensing up when michael neared and round the corner to his room.

chris heard a door open, and then rummaging. the brunette quickly jumped out of the closet and turned the corner, walking into michaels room and seeing his back turned as he faced his own closet. chris' eyes flickered between his bathroom and michael before he stepped closer.

when michael began to turn, chris threw his backpack off and grabbed the black-haired boy by the hood of his jacket, tugging him backward and hearing him gag.

"what the f—" chris quickly shut him up by throwing him against his wall harshly, hearing michael gasp as the wind was knocked out of him.

his eyes widened as chris stomped toward him, his hands going straight for the neck as he began to squeeze. the brunette felt another cold pair of hands on his as he stared michael in the eyes, his brown ones wide and filled with terror as he recognized chris.

chris' just stared, a smile creeping onto his face as he pressed michael harder against the wall. the shorter boy strained against him, choked noises falling from his lips with the little air he had.

"help—" a strangled cry left him, eyes brimming with tears as his vision became blurry. chris noticed, and he almost felt guilty. almost, "plea—sorry! i.."

this wasn't enough for chris. sure, michael would die in his hands, slowly and painfully, but chris wanted him to really feel it. when michaels eyes started to flutter shut, chris let go of him, letting the boy stumble to the ground.

the brown-eyed boy gasped for air, grasping his neck softly and rubbing the area where chris had squeezed. there was anger slowly creeping into him, the fear now long gone as his eyes darted around the messy room.

michael began to crawl, and chris let him. the brunette didn't let the boy go far, grabbing him by the hair and dragging him toward the hallway. michael kicked his feet, grunting but not even trying to yell. he was still confident he could win the fight, and chris gave him credit for that.

"let me go you fuckin' freak!" he struggled, and chris just ignored him as he continued to drag him down the hallway and to the bathroom, "bark, you useless piece of shit!" michael yelled at his dog, and oscar only looked at him sadly.

chris kicked the boy in the back, making him cry out before throwing him further into the small bathroom. the brunette shut the door, locking it before turning around to grab michael again.

he grabbed him by his hair again before throwing him against the wall just for the fun of it, smiling as he saw the hurt look on the shorter boys face. chris stepped further into the bathroom, leaning over the tub as he went to turn the water on. he reached his hand in, plugging the drain and watching as the water began to fill up.

michaels eyes widened in terror, his hopes going down as he watched chris turn back to him. more tears fell from his eyes as his body began to tremble. he felt pain everywhere, and he couldn't even move an inch without feeling a sharp sting. chris squatted in front of the boy, tilting his head as his hoodie fell off his head.

"where did that tough boy on the internet go, huh? or are you seriously just a poser." chris scoffed, taunting the boy with a sadistic smile on his face. when michael didn't answer, chris began to yell, "answer me!"

michael winced, sniffling as he listened to the water in the tub, "i don't have to answer to you, asshole. you're not gonna fuckin' do anything. you're scared."

chris raised an eyebrow, chuckling softly as he moved closer. he watched as michael flinched, and only then did a pang of guilt hit him. his smile dropped, and he just stared michael in the eyes. his gaze was dark, full of anger, guilt, sadness, and so many more emotions he couldn't even comprehend.

"i'm not scared, michael. you're shaking, look at you. you should be absolutely terrified of what's to come. nobody will notice you're gone because you're a fucking maniac that nobody loves. not even y/n still loves you, kid, you're trying too hard." chris masks his feelings with a smile, patting michaels cheek in a teasing manner before standing up to check on the tub again.

he turns the handle, stopping the water from flowing out before his turns back to the brown-eyed boy on the floor, "never said i was a nice guy, did i?" chris laughs at the scared expression on his face, walking over to him and watching as he tries to crawl away.

chris only grabs him by the hair again, dragging him harshly toward the tub as he hears michael scream and cry for mercy, begging chris to let him go. chris ignores him, resting his free hand on the edge of the tub as he drags michael toward him.

his knees are on the tiled floors, and chris gives him a soft wave before dunking his head into the cold water and watching as bubbles erupt from the boys nose and up to the surface. chris only watches with a blank expression, his stomach twisting as he feels the shorter boys hands trying to push him away but slipping and falling to his sides.

chris holds his ground, his grip on michaels hair tight as he pushes him deeper. his entire upper half is almost over the edge now, and chris doesn't realize until he feels water splash onto his cheek. his eyes move to michaels arms, flailing in the water and making a mess of the bathroom. his head turns to look at the bathroom door, taking deep breaths as he feels tears prick in his eyes.

he chokes on his spit, eyes closing as he tries to drown out the noises of splashing water and endless gurgling. chris' knuckles turn white as he grips tighter on both the tub and michaels black hair, finally starting to sniffle as tears begin to run down his face. he didn't know what he was doing, but there was no going back now. chris couldn't let michael go because if he did, the boy would only go to the cops and snitch on him. chris was past the point of no return, so he just let the whole thing happen.

the brunette begins to sob as the sounds of splashing die down, his grip on michaels hair finally loosening as he lets his entire body fall into the tub full of water. chris holds his face in his hands as he stays in a squat, his left hand soaking half of his face.

"shit, shit, shit. god, you're such an idiot, chris!" he scolds himself quietly, wiping his tears before he gets to his feet and takes even deeper breaths.

he's still not put together fully, but he pushes through it, looking back to michaels lifeless body before he leans over and grabs his hand. his fingers are still adorned with rings, and chris just takes the first one he sees and stuffs it into the back pocket of his jeans. chris quickly unlocks the door before walking back to the bedroom, taking careful steps as he looks around for his backpack.

when he spots it, he throws it over his shoulder, slipping into the straps hurriedly before leaving the room and walking down the hallway towards the kitchen. he takes the leash off the top of oscars kennel before he unlocks the metal crate, letting the dog out.

"hey, buddy," chris coos, petting his head softly as he sniffles once again, "i'm gonna find a better home for you, i promise. i'm so sorry."

oscar only whines, and chris just latches the leash onto his collar before guiding him through the living room. he takes another long look around, a millions feelings eating him up inside all at once. he doesn't feel regret... he doesn't even know what he feels.

chris freezes when he finally hears it. sirens. sirens coming closer and closer to the house that he stood in, "fuck. fuck, fuck, what—"

the brunette looks around, turning back quickly before sprinting through the kitchen and darting towards the backdoor. chris throws the door open, not even caring about the loud banging sound as he runs out of the house, the leash tightly wrapped around his hand.

"come on, boy!" chris yells as quietly as he can, and oscar continues to gallop behind him. he continues to make his way through the backyard, trying not to focus on the sirens that grow increasingly louder. how hasn't he realized the silent alarm? he was too caught up in his plan to see the red alarm above the backdoor.

chris opens the metal gate, running down the back alleyway and deeper into the neighborhood, not stopping even when he crosses the road. he loosens his grip on the leash as he makes it far enough from the house, hunching over as he tries to catch his breath.

he turns to check on oscar, giving him a few gentle pets before he reaches into the back pocket of his jeans. his hands find the small ring, and he pulls it out with a smile.

this ring would be on your finger someday, and chris wouldn't feel even a small amount of guilt for what he had done. he hoped you wouldn't resent him for it, either. that would just mess the entire thing up, and he didn't want to hurt you.

but for now, he'd just have to live with the memory.

"you could be my wife."

comment to be on this taglist!

@livialifesblog @zayyluvz @1800-love-me @snowysosturn @mirioosos

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@joemamaaa42069 @fratbrochrisgf @slut4chriss @h3arts4harry @str4wberryk1ss3s

@riasturns @yurpppppy @nwlluvsturnsstars17 @asimp4chris @byneptunee

@ilove2021chris @freshloveforthefit @sturniologals @ifwdominicfike @sturnsdoll

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@fionaheartswomen @sturni0l0 @sturniolofannn @sturniolofannnlmao @demzzz

@n3-vaeh @melanch0lybby @viiiwwwee @johnniesverr @kaisturni

@chrissfawn

[wol-fica]

-𝕌𝕟𝕖𝕩𝕡𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕕-

pairings - wednesday x gn!reader

summary - Wednesday comes to you for advice and guidance with her stalker problem, and finally confesses

warnings - kissing, slight make out, fluff, kinda investigation, wednesday is so hot omg

————

It was a peaceful night at Nevermore Academy, not a sound could be heard, except for up in Apollo Hall. The soft ‘swoosh’ of a broom across wooden floors filled the large space as I did the weekly clean of my dorm. 

I lived alone, well technically not, as I did have a roommate, but they never stayed here or even bothered to show up at the beginning of the semester, so I assumed that the dorm was mine for the taking. Maximus, my dorm parent, had said that he didn’t mind me having it to myself, but I needed to uphold the promise of keeping it in order just in case a new student comes along. 

So here I was, ridding the space of all dust and grime. The faint sound of laughter flowed through my open window, probably coming from down in the quad. There was a late night party for the students who participated in the repair of the school, which was basically everyone. I was invited, but I’d rather be alone with my books than get drunk with the crowd. Everyone was down to do drugs and chug alcohol, which is why I was incredibly surprised to hear a swift knock at my door.

“Coming!” I called, placing the broom back into my supply closet before heading to the door. I opened it, only to be met with someone I would never expect to be at my doorstep. 

Wednesday Addams, gloomy and attractive as always. 

See, Wednesday and I have only interacted twice, so I was confused why she would be here at my door. The first time we met was at Eugene’s shed; I had gone there to get a jar of honey for my baking escapades, and Wednesday was there looming over a book of some sort. I had said hello, but all I received was a look and a nod. 

The second time was with Enid; I was in their dorm helping her decorate a large poster board for her project on giant hawks when Wednesday arrived back from Hummers club. We made eye contact for a solid two-and-a-half seconds before she greeted Enid and went straight to her typewriter. 

So for her to be standing in my doorway, arms full of papers and a black display board while her face looked bland as ever, was quite a shock to me.

“Wednesday, Hi.” I said, probably looking like an idiot.

Her eyes scanned my face before trailing down to the black apron I wore for cleaning. Instantly, my skin went red from embarrassment, and I scrambled to take it off.

“Sorry, I was in the middle of sweeping when you knocked.” 

“That is fine, having a neat room shows me that you are at least cleaner than most.” Wednesday said, her voice a bit less monotonous than usual. “Can I enter?”

“I…of course!” I stammered, stepping aside so she could walk in.

I shut the door behind her, locked it, and turned to see her inspecting my walls. She moved around the room quite fast, her hand tracing along the ancient wood. Once she seemed satisfied, she placed her things on my bed and got to work setting up her display board. 

“Uh, can I help with anything…?” I asked, sliding closer to see what she had.

She shook her head no and grabbed her papers to pin them up on the black panel, which is where I realized they were in fact photos of her. All of them were inconsistent, some with her by herself, others while she was with Enid or Xavier. 

“Wednesday what-” 

She slapped her hand to my mouth, glaring her dark eyes at me. “Be patient, you will see what I'm getting at.”

I obliged, keeping my eyes on Wednesday as she finished pinning the last of her photos. Once she was satisfied, she clasped my hand and pulled me back to see the full product. Red string trailed from each photo to a paper, which led to the center, a dark blurry figure. 

We stared at it for a moment, basking in the silence. In our pause, I registered her hand in mine. Her skin was cold, but not in a repulsive way, it was more refreshing than uncomfortable. I was surprised, especially when her thumb gently traced the back of my hand. 

“So, what am I looking at?” I asked, breaking the silence. 

She went forward to inspect her work more closely, her hand sliding out of mine in the process. An empty feeling filled the air but I ignored it out of respect.

“Wednesday?” I asked again, coming up next to her.

“It seems that I have acquired a stalker.” She murmured, scratching her chin.

“I see that, but why did you come here?” 

“Because I needed a consult.”

“What’s wrong with Enid? Xavier?” 

Wednesday’s dark eyes snapped to mine, a glare clouding her face. She stared at me for a good few seconds before looking back at her board.

“Because of that picture.” She stated, pointing at one of her laying on her colorless bed, “I care for Enid and Xavier greatly, but this makes me paranoid.”

I nod, understanding her view, “How would they get a picture of you in your room?” 

“A good question, but I'm not sure about the answer.”

“I see.”

Silence, again; Wednesday really likes to analyze, so I used this time to admire her. 

One thing about her that I always found interesting about her was her face. While most people would say she is bland and psychotic, I fully disagree. She has always had this effect on me that I couldn’t quite pinpoint until now.  

When we would pass in the hallway, I would get giddy and nervous, but as soon as she was gone those feelings diminished. We sit with each other in Creepy Creatures class, and I always get so scared to mess up on a test or choose dumb answers for homework in fear of repulsing her.

“Y/N.” 

Wednesday’s voice snapped me out of my daydreaming, causing me to look down to her. Her dark, well-trained eyes searched my Y/E/C ones with curiosity.

“What were you doing?” She asked, peering up at me.

“Nothing! Just thinking about stuff.”

She hummed slowly, still staring at me. “Stuff.”

I nodded sheepishly and smiled, giving a tense shrug. 

“Anyways, I had asked if you had any theories on who my despicable stalker could be.”

I thought for a moment, multiple possibilities filling my brain.

“Old family member?” I suggested.

Wednesday studied my face as she seemed to ponder about what I said. “Elaborate.”

I cleared my throat. “Distant relative. Has an issue with your family or you yourself. They want to scare you by taking stalkerish photos of you?”

“No, too easy.”

“How about a current student? Someone who is jealous of you and is trying to distract you from things about to happen?”

She pursed her lip at that one. “Maybe”

“Ooh! Or an old foe!” I said, now being very interested in the issue. “Someone you crossed and maybe have beaten in the past, they are back to scare you!”

I turned to see her slightly grinning at me, her eyes watching my every move. My face heated up and I giggled, scratching the back of my neck.

“Sorry, I love mysteries.”

Wednesday shook her head slightly, giving me an ever so small smirk. “That’s okay, investigating is cute on you.”

“Really?” I said, a blush covering my cheeks.

“Yes, it's terribly annoying.”

“Sorry.”

She scoffed, shaking her head; her eyes met mine with a fiery glaze. She was studying me again, taking in my features so they would have an imprint in her brain. I learned that Wednesday would do that so she could remember who she saw in a day in case of an unfortunate event happening. 

“You are incredibly naive.” Wednesday said, tracing her fingers across a photo of her and I in botany class.

I cocked my head to the side in confusion. What did that mean? Was I supposed to pick up on something? Did she ask me another question? 

“What do you mean?” I asked with caution.

Her shoulders dropped as her head drooped sadly. Cringing a slight bit, I backed away in fear that I said something wrong. 

“I keep throwing signals in your direction but you are to blind to see my attempts; unless I’m just bad at flirting.”

I looked stupid, very stupid. My mouth was hanging open while my eyes squinted in thought. 

“You…have a thing for me? Like a crush?” 

“Yes, I have gained an attraction to you.” She said, watching for my reaction.

“Oh.” 

“Are you disappointed?”

“What? No.”

“Then angry.”

“Wednesday, wait.” I said, shushing her before she started assuming the worst.

She stared, her eyes never leaving mine. Our gaze seemed to create a thin spark between us as we had a silent conversation through facial expressions. My thoughts took a pause when I saw her dark orbs flicker down to my lips, her own parting slightly.

“Can…can I kiss you Y/N?” Wednesday asked tentatively whilst rocking on her feet.

I smiled, reaching out to grab her hands.

“Call me Y/N/N.” 

And with that, our lips met in a fiery blaze. Her’s were soft and delicate, yet surprisingly delicious. She tasted sweet like lemonade but with a hint of mint. My hands traveled down to her waist, pulling her closer to me so I could kiss her more properly. 

We broke for air, but she dove right back in with a ferocious demeanor. I felt the prodding of her tongue begging for access into my mouth, which I happily accepted. As soon as she got clearance, she set to work exploring every crevice with curiosity. The way her tongue would slide against mine created a bubbly feeling in my stomach, which only grew when she decided to cup my face.

I pulled back, a string of spit dangled between us. Giggling, I wiped it away and planted a soft peck to her cheek.

“Now I can brag that I made out with Wednesday Addams.” I snickered, burying my nose into her neck.

Suddenly, a sharp jab of a fist collided with my stomach, causing me to clutch it in discomfort.

“Tell anyone and I will rip you off at your mid-section.” She stated before pulling me into her for a tight hug.

——————

i do not give permission for anyone to repost on any platform

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Hey have you broken down Marinette's crush on Adrien and the ways in which it

A) misrepresents how teen girls get crushes on people they actually know and

B) sets Marinette up to seem really weird in a way the show literally cannot address because the universe thinks it's fine?

I know you can't prevent people from misinterpreting your show, but i think at the point where a significant portion of your audience and people with secondhand knowledge think of your main character as a stalker, that's a breakdown of communication on the writers part.

I've mentioned it offhand a few times, but I can go into it in more depth because it is a pretty massive writing flaw for reasons we're about to get into.

Marinette is not written like a teenager with a crush on her friend. She's not even written like a stalker. She's written like a teenager with a celebrity crush or a crush on a fictional character. In fact, if you go read fics from when the show first started airing, then you'll find that a lot of people assumed that Marinette's crush came from before she met Adrien or that it was rooted in a love of his professional work. That she was a fan who suddenly got to meet her idol and didn't know how to handle that.

I completely understand why that read was so popular. It's the only thing that makes sense! I assumed that was the case, too, until we got to Origins and her crush suddenly went from "obvious celebrity crush" to "crush with actual depth that's just been badly written."

While I'm ace, most of my friends are not, so I am very familiar with the experience of teenage girls getting crushes. I'm also deeply familiar with the experience of teenage girls getting crushes on celebrities and fictional characters. I, unfortunately, also know quite a bit about stalking. The three experiences are wildly different. For now, let's focus on the first two.

Celebrity crushes and crushes on fictional characters are experiences rooted in fantasy. You can be as over the top as you want because you know that nothing will come of this. You can go to a concert and scream the cute boy's name or have his posters all over your walls or publicly squeal about him with your friends without caring if people overhear because you don't expect him to ever care or even learn about your behavior. You know that you will never actually date him. He's a dream. A fantasy. A thing that will never be. That's the fun of this kind of crush. There's freedom in it. (This isn't unique to hetero crushes, btw, this was just an example based on my lived experience.)

I have strong memories of my best friend acting like Marinette, but only when it came to fictional men. When she was crushing on guys that she actually knew? The experience was wildly different because it was real. This could actually be a thing. She's not the only woman that I can say that about, either. I had many friends who had a celebrity or fictional crush and none of them ever carried that behavior over to their "real world" crushes. The stakes with the "real world" crushes were far too high for that sort of freedom.

Writing Marinette like someone with a celebrity crush is a terrible call on multiple levels. The most obvious issue is that it makes her look unhinged and creepy. While I don't agree with this take, I'm not surprised that people label her a stalker because celebrity crush behavior feels really creepy when it's applied to a person that you actually know. Whenever stories do the thing where someone meets their celebrity crush and actually gets to know them, there's normally a noticeable shift in their behavior as the character mentally goes, "Oh shit, you're real now." They lose the freedom that came with this being a mere fantasy.

The other issue with this writing choice is that it makes Marinette's crush feel superficial. The show spends hours letting her fantasize and obsess over Adrien, but rarely lets her actually spend time with the poor guy! It's incredibly awkward writing. You could have Adrien be a celebrity that Marinette never met and a lot of the episodes wouldn't change. That's not a great choice if your goal is to write an actual romance. Romances generally let the romantic leads interact.

As creepy and awkward as Marinette's writing can be, I will stand by my statement that she's not a stalker. She's nowhere near that unhinged. She's not stealing Adrien's things or following him home every day or breaking into his private spaces because she knows that they have a "special connection". We're never once made to feel like she's making him uncomfortable or harassed. Those are the kinds of things that stalkers do. They're delusional and divorced from reality. Do any of you really believe that Marinette would keep pursuing Adrien if he told her to back off? Hopefully the answer is "no" and, if so, then she's really not written like a "true" stalker because true stalkers just get dangerous when you say "no." They don't respect things like firm boundaries or restraining orders.

Watching Adrien's public appearances isn't violating his privacy and that's mostly what Marinette does. The rare occasions where she follows him somewhere private mostly revolve around someone else doing something questionable first, making Marinette's actions less "I want to see Adrien" and more "I'm worried for Adrien's safety and I'm doing something questionable because of that". The first is the behavior of a stalker, the second is... well, I'm not going to call it good behavior, but it's certainly not straight up bad behavior because the show isn't treating these moments as wrong so it's less Marinette being wrong and more the writers making really questionable writing choice. I mean, one of her break-ins was literally forced on her and orchestrated by her friend group! (See: Gabriel Agreste)

In fact, most of Marinette's creepiest behaviors fall under the "questionable writing choice" category as they're often just very obvious jokes of questionable quality. For example, I've seen people freak out about her having Adrien's schedule and it's like, guys, you do realize that was literally impossible, right? She claimed it was his schedule for the next three years! Nathalie doesn't even have that! You don't schedule things that far in advance unless it's a major event. It's impossible to take this claim seriously if you think about it for five seconds.

If you wanted to treat this schedule claim seriously and have it match the show's tone, then you'd have to tone Marinette's claim down, too. It would go from having his schedule for the next three years to just being aware of what he does on a weekly basis because they're friends and in the same class and you just sort of learn this stuff if you pay attention. How does Marinette know that Adrien has fencing on Wednesday? Because he has fencing every Wednesday. That's how this stuff tends to work.

I don't blame anyone for disliking the way that Marinette's crush was written. I don't like it either! It leaves a lot to be desired! The show would have been much better if they scrapped using Marinette's crush as the main source of comedy, but then they would have had to let Marinette and Adrien become close and we can't have that because it breaks the formula. The simple truth of the matter is that Marinette is written the way she is as a stalling tactic, which the episode Simpleman straight up admits:

Marinette: What am I doing, honestly? The truth is, I'm scared that Adrien will reject me if I tell him how I feel about him. That's why I over complicate everything, so that moment never comes.

In this scene, Marinette is claiming that this is a her thing, but it's really more of a writing thing. Miraculous is a formula show. Part of the formula is the akuma/sentimonster of the week and part of the formula is Marinette trying and failing to confess her crush. The show makes this pretty obvious, but if you want a more official source that this is what's going on, then here you go:

[The writing director] sold the Miraculous series to broadcasters as a formula show.... [This is why] Marinette tries to confess her love for Adrien in every episode, but is unable to do so.

They made Marinette's failure to confess part of the weekly formula which means that there can never be any romantic progress, thus Marinette being written like a fan obsessed with her idol instead of a teenage girl with very real feelings for her kind sweet friend. The first makes for an easy formula, the second won't work in that model. It requires there to be progress and a planned endgame. I'm not against formula shows, but this is a terrible element to make part of the formula!

The same issue plagues Adrien, too. It's the main reason why Chat Noir can come across as overly pushy. He's not allowed to move on just like Marinette isn't allowed to confess her feelings because they're the endgame couple. But we keep pushing back the endgame by adding seasons and so it's all become a total mess with terrible pacing and awkward, unhealthy relationships dynamics that really aren't suited to the genres or audience that Miraculous is clearly aiming for.

[morganbritton132]

I just read your post about Steve and Eddie taking hobby classes together and I love the idea of a big famous rockstar taking a paint n sip class and these moms going “…. Is that??? No??? I’m pretty sure that’s Eddie munson. My kid loves his band” and Eddie interacting with moms who want to FaceTime their kid cause they met someone famous. Because you know some moms have no shame when they meet someone their kids love

The first time they went to one of these classes, Eddie tried to do the whole low-key celebrity thing and wear a hoodie and a baseball cap. Steve took one look at him and was just like, “What are you doing? You look like someone’s stalker. No one is going to recognize you, you weirdo.”

But Steve is wrong.

It’s not just people recognizing him from the band their kid likes. Corroded Coffin was very popular in the nineties. There are people in this class that had posters of Eddie Munson on their bedroom walls when they were teenagers, and they insist on getting their picture taken with him too.

Eddie plays along, of course, because he doesn’t really get a choice unless he wants this whole five-week course of classes to be super awkward. He even says hi to some kid on FaceTime who doesn’t even know who he is because his mom confused Corroded Coffin with the Counting Crows somehow.

These things are fine.

Steve typically finds things like this amusing because he knows that Eddie secretly loves it, but that stops immediately the moment the woman across the table from them heavily implies that Eddie is on her and her husband’s list. Her name is Stephanie. She’s a part of a little gal’s night out group, has lipstick on her teeth, and a little too much wine in her, leans closer and stage whispers, “You know, the list that married couples have.”

“Interesting, interesting,” Eddie hums, humoring her. “Am I in good company on this list?”

Steve watches this conversation play out and decides that he doesn’t like Stephanie’s flirty tone or the fact that Eddie hasn’t just shut her down because he is married. And also gay. He’s gay too. It’s not like Steve feels threatened by a literal non-existent possibility, you know.

Just – have some respect for the man’s wedding ring, right?

She leans across the table to tap Eddie’s arm at some joke he made and Steve is so distracted by this that he accidentally knocks over one of the water cups when he goes to clean his brush. The water splashes across the table and nearly gets Stephanie’s shoes, but she moves away.

“Shit,” Steve says, “Sorry. I – shit. Let me help you.”

Luckily no one’s canvases got ruined since they’re all propped up on little easels and Steve helps mop the water up off the table and floor where Stephanie is working. He almost forgets about her flirting with his husband until she tells Eddie, “Your friend is so sweet, isn’t he?”

Steve tosses his wet paper towels in the trash and points to Stephanie’s smudgy painting of one of the clown figurines on the table, and says, “Wow, your art is amazing. I wish I could paint a self portrait like that.” 

[oshinohoshi]

I wrote a little Oshi no Ko fanfic. Warning: SPOILERS post ch 163 below.

Today has been a hard day for those of us in the OnK community who've read the next chapter leak so I wrote this to cope. I can't claim it to be IC at all but anyway, here it is:

The first thing he sees when he opens his eyes is an unfamiliar ceiling. No, that's not quite right. When his eyes come into better focus he spots a hairline crack running a few inches down from the light fixture, perhaps made when it was installed. He used to look at it sometimes after Ai tucked them in for story time.

It reminded him of the sterile hospital room where Sarina lived out the remainder of her life. Had she ever torn her eyes from the hodgepodge of Ai merchandise carefully arranged on her bedside table to look up, longing to see the ceiling of her room back home?

It takes a few moments to remember. The knife. His dad's twisted expression as they fell. The bone cold chill of the sea. The burning sensation in his lungs.

Aqua sits up and clutches at his stomach, expecting to see the sheets stained in red when he looks down, but both his shirt and the bedding are clean. There's no pain, either.

Aqua looks to his right. Oh. It's just another carefully crafted dream. There she is, sitting by his bed on a chair dragged in from the kitchen, her head lolled to the side in what looks like quite an uncomfortable sleeping position.

The room is exactly as he remembers. B Komachi posters are tacked to the walls and Ruby's pink stuffed bunny is propped up against the pillow on her bed across from him. Aqua casts a cursory glance at his surroundings before studying his mother's sleeping face. She looks very realistic. Tsukuyomi got every detail just right.

Ai twitches and then sits upright, blinking sleepily. Their eyes meet.

"Aqua!"

Ai all but hurls herself from her chair, wrapping her arms around his torso and pulling him into a crushing hug. Aqua makes a noise of protest.

"Ai, that's a little tight."

Ai doesn't reply, she just hugs him harder. Her shoulders start to shake. Aqua's arms remain limp on the bed. He can't bring himself to hug her back. He failed her. He couldn't save her and he couldn't even fulfill her final wish.

The seconds tick by until she finally lets go. She blinks back tears. That's strange. Ai doesn't cry. Maybe Tsukuyomi thought this would be more affecting.

"Your hair's gotten long." Ai brushes her fingertips over his bangs. "I could cut it for you."

"Okay." Aqua nods.

"Are you hungry?" Ai asks. "I've been practicing cooking. I hardly ever burn things these days, except yesterday when I got distracted and forgot I had rice on the stove. I really should get a rice cooker."

Ai's tone is as cheery as ever. She's rambling. Aqua cuts her off.

"No, I'm fine. Thanks."

There's an awkward silence. Ai stares unblinkingly at him like she's trying to memorize every detail of his countenance. It makes Aqua uncomfortable so he looks down at his lap. His fingers clutch at the sheets.

"I'm sorry," he says. What a stupid thing to say. "Sorry" doesn't change anything. "Sorry" is a selfish word.

"For what?" Ai's eyes still haven't left his face.

"For not protecting you." He's thought it a thousand times since it happened but never said anything like it aloud.

Ai's laugh makes him look up. The laugh doesn't quite reach her starry eyes.

"I'm your mother. I'm supposed to protect you. It's me whose sorry."

Aqua opens his mouth to protest but stops himself. How could he possibly explain why a toddler should have been able to stop a deranged stalker? It's not a conversation he's ready for, even in a fictional reality.

"Then I'm sorry for—"

This time it's Ai who cuts him off.

"What's done is done. I don't want to hear you saying that." Her mouth turns downward, a grim line.

"But Ruby and Miyako and..." He can't bring himself to list the rest of them. He doesn't want to picture the sort of face Kana will make when she realizes he'll never be able to give her an answer.

Ai's hand finds her way to one of Aqua's, gently loosening his white-knuckled grip on the sheets. Her hand is small and warm when she wraps it around his.

"Aqua." He's never heard her sound so serious. He forces himself to meet her gaze.

"I've had a lot of time to think," Ai says. "There's nothing to do here but think." Ai wrinkles her nose, seeming to find the idea distasteful. "I've thought about what I wish I'd done differently. How I could have been a better mom. Things I should have said but couldn't. Or didn't."

Since when did Ai talk to him like she's speaking plainly from the heart? He's really going to need to tell Tsukuyomi this isn't an accurate depiction at all.

"Aqua." She says his name again, almost plaintively. As if she's the one asking for forgiveness.

"If I could have come back and fixed everything for you, I would have. If I could make this easier for them... for Ruby..." Ai's voice falters and her grip on Aqua's hand tightens momentarily. "She will pick herself up and continue to live. They all will. I believe that."

Aqua looks at Ai in disbelief. How can she say that? Ruby will pick herself back up? Look what happened when she thought her beloved sensei was gone. If this is supposed to be easing his guilt, it's not.

"She has Miyako," Ai adds gently. He's not sure if she's trying to convince him or herself. "I'll really have to thank her one of these days."

Aqua doesn't want to think about this anymore. He's ready for the dream to be over. He gently extracts his hand, ignoring the somewhat crestfallen look on Ai's face, and looks at the door.

"Are you waiting for someone?" Ai asks, following his gaze.

"Yeah," Aqua replies tersely.

Maybe he needs to leave the room for it to end. Aqua swings his legs over the side of the bed. Before Ai can stop him, he's already in the hallway of his childhood apartment. Ai calls after him, asking where he's going, but he doesn't turn back.

Aqua strides down the hall, yanks open the front door, and steps outside. He blinks and shields his eyes from the sun. The walkway is empty. The view of the city from Ai's high-rise apartment is just as he remembers. That stupid crow girl is nowhere to be seen.

Ai is by his side again, watching him worriedly. It begins to sink in. Aqua turns to her. He forgot how short she was. Even in this body, he can see the top of her head.

"Are we...?" Aqua can't bring himself to say the word "dead."

"Yep!" Ai smiles brilliantly.

"But Tsukuyomi said you were gone. That your soul returned to the stars and the sea." It sounds odd when he says it, like a line from a play.

"Tsukuyomi?" Ai is stumped until she remembers the glimpses she got of her children's lives. "Oh! That strange little girl who kept following you around. She's a bit of a menace, isn't she."

Aqua didn't think he could laugh but he does. A short, strained laugh.

Ai shrugs nonchalantly. "Maybe she lied." Her smile is back in place: brilliant, dazzling, real.

"Come on," Ai says. "I'll make you something. I promise not to burn it."

Ai heads back down the hall, disappearing into the kitchen. Aqua steps inside, shutting the door behind him. His gut twists uncomfortably. It's almost worse than the pain of the knife. He can picture the anguished sobs when they find his body.

Aqua doesn't think he can eat but he doesn't want to disappoint his mother and he has a lot of questions that need to be answered. He takes a deep, shaky breath to compose himself before following Ai to the kitchen.

[xelmokidx]

Nicknames

Mid90’s x gn or fem!reader / slight Fuckshit x gn!reader

Reader wanted a nickname, so the boys tried to come up with one. It sucked + readers' first time meeting the boys. 

Warnings!!: two mentions of fem pronouns sorta. Just fluff:D

**************************************************

Spike Psyche. That's my nickname. Out of all the things my friends could have nick-named me. Spike Psyche. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I say, appalled. Fuckshit nods, swigging back his Coke. 

“Yup.” he replies as Sunburn (aka stevie) giggles at the name.“Why?” I exclaim in disbelief. 

Ray chuckles at the nickname before muttering

 “Thats fucked up” Fuckshit opens his stupid mouth again. “Because all you talk about Is chopping off our heads and putting them on spikes, and how you want to kill yourself after every minor inconvenience.” I gasp, putting my hand over my chest dramatically. “I do not!”

Ruben shakes his head. “Yes, you do.”

FourthGrade chuckles behind his camera and I glare at him. He sinks down into the couch. “I do not talk about killing myself that much guys, if anything Ruben does more than me!” Ruben whips his head around to look at me. “Man, fuck you” He starts “I do not talk about that depressed shit.” I shake my head. “Y’all are trippin’” I look around the shop and see some customers listening in on our conversation. “I will not let yall call me that dumbass name, I like Y/N so much better”

Fourth grade finally chimes in. “But last week you said you hated your basic name and you wanted a nickname.” Bless his innocent soul. “Well I take it back, i am not answering to ‘Spike Psyche’” I sink into the couch with a pout. “Well fine ma, we’ll find you a “good nickname” Fuckshit reasons. I nod. We sit in silence as Ray gets up to help the customer. I look around the shop. 

New posters of artists I like are on the walls. Fuckshit insisted on making the space mine as well as theirs. All I heard was ‘we need new decorations and you have good taste in music’ I didn't really mind though. I've always wanted to add my own little spice into the skate shop ever since I first stepped foot in it. I think back a couple years. 

I was 13. I wanted a new board for my birthday. So, my dad took me to the nearest shop. Four boys sat on a couch near a wall, watching MTV on their small TV. The tall one noticed us first. He nudged the golden haired boy to his left, who then looked up at me. “Oh shit” he muttered under his breath. My dad frowned. I guess he caught that. “Hey, welcome to Motorz, how can I help y'all today?” he asked, clearly trying to impress my dad (on account of my dads business attire). 

My dad spoke for me while I hid behind him in fear. I was never good with new people. Especially ones I found cool. 

As my dad pressed questions like ‘How old even are you?’ and ‘fuckshits your name?’ I only found the kid cooler. How did you even wind up with a name like Fuckshit? 

Soon enough, my own personal skateboard was in my hands, and my dad was dragging me out of the shop despite my wanting to stay. As I looked behind me to the boys, and the supposed fuckshit was waving to me out the door. With my other free hand I waved back. He smiled a soft smile, and then walked back into the shop yelling “that chick was hot!” I smiled to myself the whole way home. I went back to the shop after school one day to see fuckshit again, and just stayed there for three years. My dad warmed up to fuckshit eventually, but still has some grudges against him. 

And I'm still in love with the stupid kid, even though he gets on my nerves almost every day.

 I look at fuckshit now. His hair is longer, yet less taken care of and frizzy. He has more scars from skateboarding. And his eyes look even more green against his tan olive skin. Suddenly, he speaks. “I got it!” I roll my eyes and mutter “what is it?” He smirks and walks over to me slightly slotting his legs between mine. “Your new nickname is Stalker, because you're always staring at me” The boys erupt in laughter. I gasp “fuck you” 

“You wish ma,” 

[dolly-gutzz]

Mid90’s x gn or fem!reader / slight Fuckshit x gn!reader

Reader wanted a nickname, so the boys tried to come up with one. It sucked + readers' first time meeting the boys. 

Warnings!!: two mentions of fem pronouns sorta. Just fluff:D

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

Spike Psyche. That's my nickname. Out of all the things my friends could have nick-named me. Spike Psyche. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I say, appalled. Fuckshit nods, swigging back his Coke. 

“Yup.” he replies as Sunburn (aka stevie) giggles at the name.“Why?” I exclaim in disbelief. 

Ray chuckles at the nickname before muttering

 “Thats fucked up” Fuckshit opens his stupid mouth again. “Because all you talk about Is chopping off our heads and putting them on spikes, and how you want to kill yourself after every minor inconvenience.” I gasp, putting my hand over my chest dramatically. “I do not!”

Ruben shakes his head. “Yes, you do.”

FourthGrade chuckles behind his camera and I glare at him. He sinks down into the couch. “I do not talk about killing myself that much guys, if anything Ruben does more than me!” Ruben whips his head around to look at me. “Man, fuck you” He starts “I do not talk about that depressed shit.” I shake my head. “Y’all are trippin’” I look around the shop and see some customers listening in on our conversation. “I will not let yall call me that dumbass name, I like Y/N so much better”

Fourth grade finally chimes in. “But last week you said you hated your basic name and you wanted a nickname.” Bless his innocent soul. “Well I take it back, i am not answering to ‘Spike Psyche’” I sink into the couch with a pout. “Well fine ma, we’ll find you a “good nickname” Fuckshit reasons. I nod. We sit in silence as Ray gets up to help the customer. I look around the shop. 

New posters of artists I like are on the walls. Fuckshit insisted on making the space mine as well as theirs. All I heard was ‘we need new decorations and you have good taste in music’ I didn't really mind though. I've always wanted to add my own little spice into the skate shop ever since I first stepped foot in it. I think back a couple years. 

I was 13. I wanted a new board for my birthday. So, my dad took me to the nearest shop. Four boys sat on a couch near a wall, watching MTV on their small TV. The tall one noticed us first. He nudged the golden haired boy to his left, who then looked up at me. “Oh shit” he muttered under his breath. My dad frowned. I guess he caught that. “Hey, welcome to Motorz, how can I help y'all today?” he asked, clearly trying to impress my dad (on account of my dads business attire). 

My dad spoke for me while I hid behind him in fear. I was never good with new people. Especially ones I found cool. 

As my dad pressed questions like ‘How old even are you?’ and ‘fuckshits your name?’ I only found the kid cooler. How did you even wind up with a name like Fuckshit? 

Soon enough, my own personal skateboard was in my hands, and my dad was dragging me out of the shop despite my wanting to stay. As I looked behind me to the boys, and the supposed fuckshit was waving to me out the door. With my other free hand I waved back. He smiled a soft smile, and then walked back into the shop yelling “that chick was hot!” I smiled to myself the whole way home. I went back to the shop after school one day to see fuckshit again, and just stayed there for three years. My dad warmed up to fuckshit eventually, but still has some grudges against him. 

And I'm still in love with the stupid kid, even though he gets on my nerves almost every day.

 I look at fuckshit now. His hair is longer, yet less taken care of and frizzy. He has more scars from skateboarding. And his eyes look even more green against his tan olive skin. Suddenly, he speaks. “I got it!” I roll my eyes and mutter “what is it?” He smirks and walks over to me slightly slotting his legs between mine. “Your new nickname is Stalker, because you're always staring at me” The boys erupt in laughter. I gasp “fuck you” 

“You wish ma,” 

[pimosworld]

The ties that bind

Pairing-Dave York x f!reader x Frankie Morales

Series Summary-Dave is a private investigator who tracks down soulmates. He’s tasked to find Frankie’s, but what happens when he finds you and wants you all to himself?

CW-18+,MDNI,NSFW, Angst,Fluff,Hurt,Comfort, Eventual smut,MMF dynamics, a lot of music references, best friends loving each other. Individual warnings will be added to chapters with sensitive topics.

WC-5K

A/N- Dave is basically a stalker but it’s hot. Alicia is the best friend everyone wants and poor Frankie is gonna go through it for a bit I’m sorry.

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter II

Three days

  That’s all it takes for Dave to find you. Even the most conscientious person does not realize their social media footprint. Tattoo artists have taken to posting their portfolios online to help show off their work and maybe connect a few soulmates. 

  Image searches and his confidential connections are what helps him be so successful. It’s not often he has to give a refund for any reason other than the person he found has no interest in meeting their soulmate. 

  It’s a feeling he can’t describe when he sees your photo. You have a face like someone he’s known his whole life, yet he’s never met you. Your smile lights up his screen as you stand next to an albeit conventionally attractive woman but just not his type. He knows nothing about you, even with a file on his desk with all the details he could gather about your life. 

  Francisco is a very lucky man

  With his flight booked and a hotel for a week, this should be a fairly quick trip. Once he confirms that it is in fact Frankie’s soulmate, he’ll approach you with the details and hopefully or  regretfully connect you with Frankie. 

  ****

Dave doesn’t get nervous. He’s usually all business, not caring much how the person is going to react, he just wants to get it over with so he can be on his way. He spent a little extra time this morning in his hotel, checking over his appearance. A little over dressed for a first meeting, not a single hair out of place. 

  The record store you work at is not very far from his hotel but he decides to drive anyway. Sweating through his dress shirt isn’t really a good look for a glorified stalker. Yes of course he was a private investigator but people didn’t always kindly take to being told he was hired to find them…as romantic as it may seem to some. 

  He parks his rental across the street from the record store but he can’t see much with the windows decorated with drawings and a floor to ceiling plant wall. He takes one last look at himself in the rear view mirror, trying too hard not to focus on the lines he’s never noticed before etched across his forehead. 

  Dave walks the short distance across the street and stops to admire the small easel outside. Buy one get one half off records with today's date written in cute bubble letters. He imagines you spent some time on it but obviously he can’t be certain it was you. 

  He enters and a bell chimes above his head as you look over busy with another customer. 

  “Welcome to spins, I’ll be with you in a moment.” You give a half wave and a smile in his direction and he forgets how to be a human for a second. He stands stupidly in the doorway watching you as you animatedly describe something about a hidden poster in the vinyl jacket to the older woman you're helping. 

  He finally wills his feet to move and picks a random aisle to peruse while he waits for you. He had something prepared to say to you but now he can’t remember for the life of him how to do his job. He looks around admiring the colorful orange and yellow walls. The natural light brightening the small store that you seem to be running on your own. There’s a small nook in the back with an old zenith and two leather chairs on either side. This place feels cozy like a home he’d blend right into. Very unlike his gray drab living room back home. 

  He stares down at the random assortment of vinyls in front of him and picks one up so he doesn’t look suspicious. Frankly he has no idea what he’s looking at while he racks his brain for an appropriate introduction. 

  “You don’t strike me as a Grateful Dead fan.” He turns to see you standing there, with that same bright smile on your face when you waved at him. He’s not sure if you said something as you wait patiently for a response, nervously biting your bottom lip between your teeth and he wants to pull it down with his thumb. He’s completely lost it at the sight of you in some worn overalls and orange top matching the decor of the room. 

  “I’m sorry did you say something?” You duck your head and laugh a little and he can’t help but laugh with you. He hasn’t been this nervous to talk to a woman in a very long time. 

  You gesture to the record in his hand. “Are you a fan?” 

  “Oh, ugh honestly? I just picked up the first thing I saw.” He sets it back in its place, careful not to mess up the order now that you were watching. “What do I strike you as?” 

  You smirk and study him up and down, you start circling him like you’re stalking your prey. He follows you with his eyes until he’s forced to turn his head, to which you protest with a stern look. Maybe it’s the way you don’t seem to be intimidated by him or the way you’re so blatantly checking him out that has him so intrigued. 

  “You look like a Journey fan to me.” 

  “Well it seems your inspection is correct because I love Journey.” Your squeal of excitement takes him by surprise as you jump up and down. 

  “I was totally joking…I’ve literally never done that before.” You don’t really know what’s gotten into you but this is quite possibly the most handsome man that’s ever walked into the store and Alicia would kill you if you didn’t at least have a little fun with him. 

  “I’m glad I could help you find a hidden talent…” He leans in to see your name tag and you can smell the woody scent of his cologne and fresh laundry. You don’t miss the way he licks his lips after he speaks and you would be a complete idiot to not notice he’s flirting with you. 

  “You look a little overdressed?”

  “Dave.” He holds out his hand for you and it nearly dwarfs your own when you shake it. He holds it for a moment longer as he stares down at your wrist. Men always had a weird reaction to seeing your tattoos. 

  “Well Dave, you’re very dressed up to look at records in the middle of the day.”  

  This is the part where he says he’s a private investigator. 

  “I’m an insurance agent.” You raise your eyebrows at that. 

  This is the part where he says your soulmate hired him to find you. 

  “I’m here for work for a little while. The store caught my eye.” Chances this man walked into the store on a whim are pretty slim but you don’t really care at the moment. 

  “Well Dave the insurance agent…sounds fake if you ask me.” You turn to walk away but don’t feel him following you. “The section you want is over here.” 

  Dave has been having a moral dilemma ever since he saw your photo. It’s being made all that more difficult at the confirmation of your hummingbird tattoo on the inside of your wrist. The same one that he noticed on Frankie when he rolled up his sleeves at the coffee shop. 

  He follows you to the end of the aisle trying not to look at your ass in those overalls that seem to fit you perfectly. You have a bounce in your step and he can’t for the life of him remember the last time he saw someone so adorably happy. 

  “It’s hard to pick just one. Departure is a great album but Frontiers has some of their best hits.” You chew on your lip again as you flip through the stack. “But Escape has some amazing songs.” 

  He can’t help the smile on his face as he listens to your detailed synopsis, it’s something he could listen to everyday. He’s lucky he’s the only customer in here at the moment. He’d kill someone if they dared interrupt his private hand picked selection from you. 

  “Honestly I would just go with their greatest hits. It has most of the songs you’ll want, maybe missing a few in my opinion.” You say the last part like it’s a special secret that only he and you share. “Don’t mind my rambling…my mom always said I didn’t know what to stop.” Hence the tattoo

  You’re holding it out for him like a silver platter, practically beaming and that little part of his brain ticks away again. This is someone’s soulmate. He takes it from you gently and tucks it under his arm. 

  “We have a player back here if you want to check for any scratches. Everything here is pretty much donated or thrifted by yours truly.” You do a little curtsy and suddenly look nervous for the first time in the conversation. 

  “I actually have to get going but I really appreciate the hand selection.” He doesn’t miss the way your face drops a little and he so badly wants to stay but if he doesn’t leave now, he never will. 

  “I’ll get you rung up so you can get out of here. I’m sure you have very important ‘insurance’ matters to attend to.” He lets out a hearty laugh, one he didn’t know he was still capable of. 

  You enter the total into the old school cash register, everything about this place makes him feel like he’s in the twilight zone. You place it in a paper bag along with a cleaning rag and some random coupons. 

  “Here you go Dave…bring it back if you’re not satisfied.” He’s trying to be completely normal about you… but the way you emphasize satisfied has him thinking inappropriate thoughts. 

  “Thanks hummingbird, I’ll be back soon.” He winks as he exits, the bell chiming above his head. 

  There’s no way he can know your nickname, it’s just a coincidence since he saw your tattoo. Except no one’s called you that in years.

  ****

  “Tell me more.” Alicia hasn’t stopped pacing since you got home from work and told her about Dave. 

  “I don’t know what else to say.” You sigh as you stare up at the ceiling from the couch. “He was just easy to talk to.” And extremely attractive, charming, well dressed…

  She leans over the couch as she cradles your head “Oh babe, you’ve got it bad.” 

  “Stop, we talked for like five minutes.” Your best friend knows you better than you know yourself. Something about Dave just felt like more than a chance encounter with a stranger. He cared what you had to say, respected your opinion…

  “I’ve lost you again.” She’s sitting beside you playing with your comfort blanket, giving you that look. 

  “Sorry…I’m just overthinking this. I don’t even know anything about him.” You furrow your brow and she leans over to smooth it out. 

  “Stop that, you’ll get wrinkles.” She’s like a fussy mother sometimes but you love her. “Listen, I'm gonna give you my honest opinion.”

  “I’d be disappointed with anything less.” 

  She grabs your hands and holds them in hers. “I know you just met him, but he sounds nice. So why don’t you just have some fun with it.” 

  Easier said than done.

  “Fine, but I won’t be surprised if I never see him again.” You don’t want to get your hopes up anymore than you already have. 

  “Oh ya I’m sure he won't be able to pull himself away from his ‘insurance job’ to pay you another visit.” She puts the latter in quotations and you both laugh. 

  “So you do agree with me! His job sounds so fake.” You shove her lightly as she leans against the headrest. 

  “I can't judge, I don’t even have a job.” 

  “So what do you do all day?” 

  She taps lightly on her chin, fake pondering. “I mostly sit by the window and sigh until you’re off work.” 

  “Well you should come hang out with me when you’re bored. Who knows you might find yourself a Dave.” You wink at her as you stand from the couch and head over to your record player. 

  “I might take you up on that. If not just to watch you nerd out over music all day.” 

  You playfully flip her off as you flip through your personal stack of vinyls. Some from your dad and some you’ve accumulated over the years. Others more recently from the store when a special one catches your eye. 

  “First of all, you love my taste in music.” You hold up the Prince record and she enthusiastically nods her head. “Second of all, you get to pretend to know all about music on your dates because of muah.” 

  “Touché. Now put that shit on so we can have a dance party.” 

  You cue up the music as she dramatically flings off the blanket. You don’t even have to turn around to know she’s standing behind you with her invisible mic in hand. 

  Dearly beloved, we have gathered here today to get through this thing called life. Electric world life, it means forever and that’s a mighty long time. 

  “Must you do this every time?” 

  She grabs you by the collar of your sleep shirt, pulling you face to face with her as you try not to burst out into laughter. 

  But I’m here to tell you there’s something else. The afterworld, a world of never ending happiness. You can always see the sun, day or night. 

  You sigh in her face and bring your invisible mic up. 

  So when you call up that shrink in Beverly Hills, you know the one. Dr. Everything’ll be alright. 

  You both take a step back and point to each other as the music picks up. These are the moments you live for with your best friend. Soulmate or not. 

  And if the elevator tries to bring you down. Go crazy. 

  ****

  Frankie slides into the booth with a pitcher of beer and three glasses. 

  “You find your soulmate yet Fish?” Ben pours a glass missing the way Santi rolls his eyes.

  “Let the man get settled in.” Santi leans over grabbing the freshly poured beer from Ben and hands it to Frankie. 

  Ben sends Frankie an apologetic smile but he waves him off. 

  “It’s only been a few days Ben, but I’m feeling optimistic.” 

  That surprises Santi a little but he would never tell Frankie that he was skeptical of his friend being receptive to this whole ordeal. 

  It wasn’t a lie, Frankie was feeling very optimistic these days. He spent hours reading through the testimonials of people who had success with Dave’s services. After their awkward meeting at the coffee shop Frankie needed to put his mind at ease. Majority of the connections had been made in no less than three to five days. This was the end of day three. If his reputation was as good as people said then he should be expecting a call pretty soon. 

  “How’s Will?” Santi asks, trying to change the subject. 

  “Hopefully on a beach enjoying some overpriced cocktail with his Wife.” Ben tilts his glass toward the other men as they silently cheers.

  His attempt at changing the subject only made Frankie’s mind wander. Thinking of how much fun he had on his honeymoon. How could someone say they were there for better or worse and then decide one day they had enough? He didn’t want to feel like a placeholder in someone’s life. 

  A light buzzing in Frankie’s pocket brings his attention back to the present. Dave’s name illuminates on the screen of his phone. 

  “Sorry, I should take this.” Frankie excuses himself from the table and steps outside the bar. 

  “Hello?” 

  “Hi, Francisco, it’s Dave York. Do you have a minute to talk?” His tone comes off a little apprehensive but he doesn’t want to assume. 

  “Ya I have a minute, what’s up?” 

  “I’ve got a lead I want to follow up on tomorrow.I just wanted to give you an update on how things are going.” 

  “That’s…amazing. Is there any more you can tell me?” He hears Dave sigh on the other end. “I understand if you can’t, obviously you’re the expert, this is all very new to me.” 

  “I don’t like to give too much information, just in case it’s a dead end. I will say this person is only a few hours from you.” 

  Frankie understands what a tough position Dave is in. If this person isn’t his soulmate or for some horrible reason it just doesn’t work out, he’s got his hopes up for no reason. 

  It stings a little knowing that his soulmate isn’t halfway across the world. They’re potentially in his backyard and quite possibly have been for some time. He doesn’t want to get ahead of himself so he tucks that thought away. 

  “Thanks for the update Dave, hope to hear from you soon.” 

  “Hopefully I’ll have some good news for you in the next few days.” 

  Frankie ends the call and enters the bar to rejoin the guys and give them the good news. 

  ****

  Dave sits at the hotel lounge, the ice in his drink melted long ago making his whiskey nearly tasteless. 

  He’s lied to clients before, but never for his own benefit. He’s spent most of the day deciding what to do about you. His mind is going in all directions of how he should handle this situation. From the outside the answer is obvious. This was literally what he was hired to do. He’s connected so many people he’s lost count. 

  This isn’t the first time he’s found someone’s soulmate attractive…attraction was only one piece of the puzzle. He’s never felt this level of excitement and anticipation of possibly seeing you again. You didn’t belong to him by nature and yet he felt like you were meant for him to find you. 

  He had to give himself a push in one direction either way, so he decided to call Frankie and tell him he might have found you. There was no going back now, he was going to tell you tomorrow who Frankie is and watch his heartbreak in real time when he sees that look on your face. 

  You belong to someone else

  ****

  Dave hovers for a moment outside the store. For some reason he feels more uncomfortable in plain clothes than he does in his suit and tie. His reflection in the window of the store feels foreign as he takes in his t-shirt and jeans appearance. 

  He’s not even sure you’re working today and he’s been trying to catch a glimpse of you in the window but to no avail. Pretty soon he’s going to have to call it a day and head back to the hotel, he thinks he’s getting weird looks from people or perhaps he’s just being paranoid. 

  He sees some movement finally as you make your way down on the isles. You look flustered when he waves at you and he notices a less than happy gentleman hot on your heels as you head to the register. 

  When he enters the store and the bell chimes, the man pays him no mind as he continues to raise his voice about a record being scratched. 

  Dave’s eye twitches a little at the tone he’s taking with you, he clenches his fists at his side as he pretends to look at something in a nearby aisle. 

  You flinch a little as he points his finger in your face.“So there’s nothing you can do for me? That seems a little ridiculous.”He slaps his hands on the counter and Dave inches a little closer. 

  “Sir, we listened to the entire album and it didn’t scratch once. I can offer you a copy if I find one or you can pick out something else.” Your eyes are a little glossy and your voice is quivering. There’s a slow rage building in Dave at the moment that he hasn’t felt since he quit his previous job. “Unfortunately, I can’t offer you a refund, it’s store…”

  The short disgruntled man cuts you off before you can finish and Dave’s had just about enough.

  “I’m sure you can refund me -.” 

  “I’m sorry did you not hear what she said!?” Dave steps behind the man and he turns to protest but swallows his words before he can speak. His nostrils are flared as he stares the man down. “You can take this one.” 

  Dave holds his hand out and you look down realizing you’ve been clutching the vinyl close to your chest. You slowly hand it to him as he asks if ‘you’re okay’. The way his hands brushes yours as he winks at you is enough to make you forget that it’s not just the two of you standing there. He’s completely bewitched you and he’s barely said a thing. 

  The menacing look he gives the man as he hands him the vinyl is quite the inverse to the look he just gave you. The switch was so sudden it made your head spin.The man sends you an apologetic smile and scurries out the front door leaving you with Dave and this unresolved sexual tension building between you. 

  “Are you here by yourself?” He asks as he glances around the store. 

  “Well you’re here at the moment…so no.” He smirks at your obvious flirting.“Thank you by the way…you didn’t have to do that.” 

  “He’s lucky that’s all I did.” Something flashes in his eyes when he says that…

  “You’re pretty intimidating.” 

  He steps closer to you but you don’t move. “You don’t seem intimidated.”

  “That’s because I’m not.” You watch his Adam's apple as he swallows your words, stepping impossibly closer. 

  He’s so close you can smell the mint of his gum mixed with the intoxicating scent of his cologne. His eyes flit to your lips so briefly you might have missed it. 

  The door chimes and you both break apart. 

  “Oh shit!” Alicia stands at the door and smiles at Dave. 

  You try to look anywhere but at her face as he awkwardly clears his throat. 

  “I’ll just…” She points to the back of the store and walks behind Dave down the aisle. She runs her fingers through her hair mouthing ‘oh my god’ as you try to suppress your chuckle. 

  He shakes his head not bothering to turn around and ruin your moment with your friend, he’s certain he recognized her from one of your photos. 

  You practically begged Alicia to visit you at work and of course she picks this exact moment to take you up on your offer. 

  “So what brings you back to the store? Hopefully you don’t want a refund.” His genuine laugh at your joke is drowned out by the sound of music playing. 

  I just died in your arms tonight

It must have been something you said 

  “Oh my god I’m going to kill her.” You hide your face in your hands, unable to hide your embarrassment. 

  I keep looking for something I can’t get

Broken hearts lie all around me

  “Cutting crew…she doesn’t have bad taste.” The look on your face lets him know you’re impressed. 

  Perhaps bad timing but definitely not bad taste. 

  “I ugh…there was something I forgot to give you last time.” Frankie’s information 

  You humm awaiting his response as he nervously tucks his hands into his Jean pockets. “I wanted to give you my number…if you’re alright with that.” 

  Your mouth hangs open in shock. This gorgeous man, who has consumed your thoughts for the last several days, came back just to give you his number. 

  You both react to a squeal from the back as you take note of the music that’s now stopped. His cheeks hurt from smiling so much, it seems he’s not used to using those muscles in his face.

  You pull your phone out of your back pocket and open your contacts. He should feel bad when you hand it to him, but all he feels is excitement as he enters his contact in your phone and hands it back to you. 

  “Bye hummingbird.” 

  You laugh as you glance down at the contact in your phone. Dave-insurance guy

  The door barely closes before Alicia is bolting to the front counter. “I’m sorry I interrupted your moment but holy shit.” She wraps her arms around you as you both jump up and down.

  “Holy shit is right.” You exhale as she holds you close after your impromptu dance moment. “Thank you.” 

  She lets you go, giving you an inquisitive look. “For?”

  “For always being here.” 

  She scoffs mockingly offended by your words. “I will always be here for you.” She kisses you on your forehead. “Hummingbird is new?” 

  “Shut up.” 

  ****

  Dave’s finger hovers over the contact in his phone as he sits outside the record store. 

  Make the call Dave 

  “Morales.” His cheery tone is not matched by Dave on the other end. 

  “Francisco, it's Dave. Are you free to meet tomorrow? I'm a little over an hour from you.” 

  Oh no, Frankie can hear the seriousness in his voice even through the phone. He knew he shouldn’t have got his hopes up. He should’ve just told Santiago to leave it alone. 

  “Ya, we can meet at the coffee shop from before.” Frankie hangs up the phone after Dave agrees on a time to meet. 

  Dave smiles down at the phone as the call ends when he sees a text from you. 

  Here’s my number I hope you like texting 🥰

                        Works for me hummingbird 

****

  Santi reaches for the remote to turn down the tv. “That didn’t sound like good news.” 

  Frankie exhales as he looks up at Santiago. “He wants to meet in person.” It’s safe to assume he doesn’t want to break any bad news to him over the phone. 

  “You want me to come with you?” 

  “No hermano, I should handle this myself.” Frankie sits on the couch next to him and pats him on the shoulder. “I don’t blame you if this doesn’t work out. Maybe it’s just not meant to be, you know.” 

  “Ya…maybe.” 

  Santi can never quite explain what goes through his head when he gets these grand ideas, for whatever reason he’s going to leave Frankie out of this one and handle it himself. He knows next to nothing about Dave, but something in his gut is telling him things aren’t quite right. 

  ****

  If there was a Guinness book of world records for being late to a job you live down the street from, you’d have the award. 

  The bathroom is still slightly steamy from your shower and you can hardly see yourself in the mirror. You didn’t usually spend so much time on your hair and makeup but if Dave was going to stop by again you wanted to look nice. 

  Your phone pings as you finish the wing on your liner. 

  Dave: Are you free for lunch today? 

          Yes I’m free at 1 if that works for you

  Dave: See you at 1 hummingbird

  You stare at the text with a giddy expression on your face. Your phone is flying out of your hand before you can stop it as you collide with Alicia as you exit the bathroom. 

  “Shit I’m sorry.” 

  She picks up the phone before you, holding it just out of reach. “If I read this…will it be naughty?” You note the playfulness in her tone. 

  “No.” Although the thoughts you’ve been having about him late at night definitely are. 

   She pouts and hands it back to you. “You almost sound disappointed.” 

  You didn’t really mean it to come off that way, but you can’t help but think how long it’s been since you’ve been with anyone. 

  “He asked me out to lunch.” 

  The look on her face is borderline psychotic as she grabs your shoulders. “Please tell me you said yes. I can figure out how to sell records if you need me to cover you, it can’t be that hard. No offense babe.” 

  You giggle at her excited rambles. “Thanks but I usually just close during lunch anyway.” You pry her hands from your shoulders and walk towards her room with her hot on your heels. 

  “Where are you going?” 

  “To your closet to borrow that blue blouse that makes your tits look great.” 

  She moves you aside aggressively shuffling through the hangers. “I meant where are you going to have lunch?” She rips the blouse down and tosses it to you. 

  “I haven’t thought that far ahead.” You glance at the clock as you finish getting dressed. “Shit, I have to go babe. Love you.” 

  You yelp as she slaps your ass when you walk away,she calls out to you just as you're closing the front door. 

  “Don’t do anything I would do.” 

  ****

  Dave scrubs his hand across the mirror in the hotel bathroom. Even with the blur he can see the extra lines in his face, his tired eyes illuminating under the bright fluorescent lights. 

  Sleep hadn’t come easy if at all the night before. He was flying so high when he left the store after he gave you his number. 

  He couldn’t get the image out of his mind of you so obviously turned on at his show of protectiveness. Your pupils were blown wide as you inched closer to him. He could practically reach out and touch you. He wanted to kiss your perfect lips and have you pressed into his body. 

  He pictured your hands in place of his as he stroked himself in the shower, your soft voice in his ear and your pliant body beneath him as he came painting the walls of the shower. His mind cleared as the water ran cold. How was he going to explain who he was? His job was a lie, besides for his name, everything he told you was a lie. 

  There was no rational thought when it came to you. A night of no sleep didn't make the situation any better. He’s asking you to lunch before his brain can catch up with the action. You’re saying yes before he can stop the train that’s in motion. 

  He keeps telling himself he’ll figure the rest out later…but later was coming up on him fast and he needed to come up with a solution. 

  Thankfully Frankie wanted to meet early. That would give him plenty of time to get there and back and pick up lunch for the both of you. Maybe in the meantime he’ll come up with a plan…or he’ll continue on as he is completely fragmented from reality. 

  ****

  He was determined to get here before Dave

  Frankie’s starting to hate this coffee shop. It tastes a little more bitter than the last time. The lights are just a little too bright for his liking. The noise is just a little too much. Everything seems turned up too high and he wants to crawl out of his skin. 

  He talked about this with his therapist. When he starts to feel like this he should take a few deep breaths and try to ground himself. With every deep breath he tries to take, it’s like his lungs won’t fill up enough. 

  Maybe he should’ve let Santiago come with him

  “Hey Francisco.” 

  Frankie nearly jumps out of his skin when Dave greets him at the table. His whole demeanor is much lighter than the first time they met here. 

  Dave takes in his frazzled appearance…he’s like a caged animal ready to strike. Dave’s seen this look before, in others but mostly himself. 

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” 

  Frankie waves him off. “It’s fine…just had too much coffee.” His smile doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “You can call me Frankie by the way.” Formalities out the window when you’ve hired someone to find the love of your life. 

  Dave swallows thick at the way Frankie disarms a little. The last thing he needs is to start liking the guy who’s girl he’s stealing. Even admitting it to himself feels like an incredible violation. 

  “Listen Francis…Frankie-.”

  “Before you start.” 

  They chuckle after speaking simultaneously and Frankie clears his throat. “Look…it didn’t sound on the phone like you had good news. So please just give it to me straight.” 

  Dave looks away from his eyes, focusing on his large hands virtually dwarfing the small coffee cup. Focus

  “I found a lead, but it turned out to be a dead end. Trust me these things take time and I’m working as hard as I can.” Lies

  Frankie briefly removed his hat to run his fingers through his hair. “Thank you, I really appreciate it. I know we got off on the wrong foot but it means a lot that you’re trying.” Being paid to at least 

  Albeit a flimsy bridge, they manage to bridge some gap that had formed when they first met. Dave almost forgets he needs to make his way back in time to meet you for lunch. 

  They say their goodbyes and part ways. 

  Santiago watches Dave exit the cafe from across the street as he starts up the car.

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You Found His Sketchbook Bakugou x gn!reader

~You accidentally find his sketchbook~

Hope you guys like this one!

TW: cussing and mentions of stalker behavior

Best experience in light mode

The hot summer sun was caressing your skin as you read over the sentences in the blond-haired boys' book. Comparing the notes to yours, let’s just say that yours didn't have the pizzazz~ that his notes did. 

As you finish up the last page, you feel a slight vibration in your pocket. You take your phone out and see that it is a text from the same person that is letting you borrow their notes. 

You rolled your eyes but chuckled at the rude comment then put your phone back, not even bothering with a response. After a couple of minutes, you checked to make sure that you transferred everything into your notes. After confirming, you get up and start walking towards the dorms, letting your mind wonder about the city that you’re in and the people that you have met. Your mind especially wandered to the crimson-eyed boy. 

You cannot understand why you admire him but there is just something in your soul that just yearns for his company. Admittedly, you were a little disappointed when he sent you that text because it meant that you won’t interact with him for that short amount of time. 

Your heart started to sting at the fact but before your thoughts could continue on, you arrived at the dorms. The shock of how quick you got there washed away as you enter the facility and exchanged smiles with some of your peers. 

You take the steps up to his room, wanting to hold onto this piece of him just a little longer. The dragged-out walk lasted a little while and you sighed as you opened the door to his room. 

The darkness of the room did not surprise you, and neither did the All Might figure sitting on his dresser, the romance books, or the anime posters sitting on his wall. You have been in here plenty of times before due to the study sessions you both have every other day. Today was supposed to be one of those days but he got caught up with something so you had to supply yourself with the knowledge. 

You look around to the room you're used to, to see if he has added anything new to his room. To your surprise, you found a black book sitting on his desk. Now, this is something that you have never seen before. 

Your mind races rapidly. Thoughts of invading the blondes' privacy are at the forefront of it. It wouldn’t hurt to look at some of it...right? I mean if there was anything bad then he wouldn’t just leave it out like this. 

Both the devil and angel on your shoulder advocate heavily for you to listen to them. In the end, you chose to just place Bakugou’s notebook on the desk and just leave. He wouldn’t touch any of your stuff, you don’t have a right to touch his. 

As you were reassuring yourself of your decision, your hand knocks the sketchbook over anyway. It just so happened to flip open to one of the first pages. Was that...you? You move in a bit closer to see but someone swipes it up before you could see the detail that Bakugou put into the drawing. 

“What part of my text made you think you could look through my shit? I didn't know you were illiterate.” 

Your whole body froze as you heard the sly comment from him. When he usually insults you, there is a slightly joking tone you can catch every time. However, this time you couldn't seem to find it. 

“Oi, dumbass, I’m talking to you.” He grabbed your shoulder and turned you around in one smooth motion. His firm hand stays on your shoulder as he continues to chew you out. Telling you how much of an idiot you were for going through his things and that he didn't know you were a stalker. You started to become mad at his demeaning tone so you interrupted him, “to my defense, you dick, it fell and I was going to pick it up. And as a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure that was me in your drawing. Therefore, you have no right to call me a stalker.” His mouth immediately shut as you voiced your observation. A small pink tint grew on his face but was invisible to you because of the lack of lighting in the room. 

The room went silent for a few moments, he then scoffed and put the sketchbook back on his desk, and turned the light on in his room. You looked over to see the same drawing that was on the ground right in front of you. The detail pounced at you and you couldn't help the gasp that escaped your mouth. The small imperfections on your face, even your birthmark...it all looked so incredibly real. You turned back over to the male with widened eyes, “when did you draw this?” 

He scoffed once again and broke the eye contact that you both held for a few milliseconds. “Why the fuck you wanna know?” His remark was met with silence as you turned the pages of the sketchbook. Your jaw dropped even further as different sketches of Japan met your eyes, even drawings of your friends were featured in the sketchbook. You couldn't help but notice that every other picture was of you. There wasn’t a single batch of pages that didn’t feature you. Why the hell did he draw you so much? You thought out of all of you, he would draw himself the most. But there wasn’t one page that had the crimson-eyed male on it. His gauntlets were the closest thing to it. 

“Is there a reason you haven’t drawn yourself?” You look back over at him but he still isn’t making eye contact. “I don’t know, just- don’t feel like it. Would rather draw other people instead.” 

“Well, I think your style is pretty nice. Drawing yourself in this style wouldn’t look too bad.” His head turned back to you, eyes gazing into your own “tell anyone about this and you're dead.” You chuckled softly, you know that is his way of saying thank you. 

If you enjoyed this, please leave a like. Let me know if you guys would like a part 2. I kinda have an idea for it so just let me know. Also, If you have any suggestions for what character I should write about next then write it in the comments, message me, or leave it somewhere I can see it (can you tell idk how tumbler works ;-;) Love you all and thank you so much for reading. 

Part 2 Part 3

[paper-mache-socks]

A/N: Late to posting this but its alr. First time writing an actual fic so yeah

Warnings: swearing, small bits of sexual content on Kid's part, death threats, Kid actively trying to kill you, reader is lowkey kind of a stalker but its okay its just simp behavior

Kid x F!Reader

~~~

You were following him. There’s no way you weren't. Every island he docked at, you were there. Somehow, always before him, and it drove him insane.

It didn’t help that you were always looking at him. He could feel your eyes staring into his soul even if you were always across the room. It pissed him off to no end. Even when he told you to fuck off and stop staring at him, it didn’t stop you. Even when he’s actively told you that he’d kill you, you still gave him those eyes that made his body feel hot. He’d never admit it, though.

~~~

The air was tense in the bar as the sheer presence of the Kid pirates had the entire place sweating. All the civilians tried to avoid looking at the ruthless pirates, knowing how impulsive the infamous captain was. Everyone feared the crew that drank any booze the bar had.

Everyone but you.

The feeling of eyes staring at him burned his already thin patience. He moved his eyes and scoured across the entire bar until his eyes caught yours. A frown appeared on his face as he saw you smile and wave at him. He could never catch a break no matter how far he sailed from the last island he saw you at. You were always one step ahead of him. 

“What the fuck are you staring at?!” His voice echoed in the bar as some customers jumped from their seats and left. You simply put your head in your hand as your eyes never left his.

“I’m staring at you. Your still so much more handsome in person. Your wanted poster doesn’t do enough justice.” Kid grits his teeth at your words. You were teasing him. Trying to gain something from him, he wasn’t stupid.

“Your a little red captain. What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?” Your tiny giggles finally pissed him off enough to repeal a metal sign hanging on the wall in your direction.

“Kid! What the hell?!” A smirk appeared on his face as a cloud of smoke covered the area you once occupied. He’d like to see you get out of that one this time. Finally, you were out of sight and out of mind. Now, he can drink without being disturbed.

“Nice try, hot stuff. You should know it will take a lot more to kill me than that.” his head snapped back to the now disappearing smoke cloud. Instead of what should be lifeless bodies, was you standing there with your crew and that familiar stupid smile on your face. You and your entire crew were wearing a tattoo visible through the cloud.

“Ah, it’s the (....) pirates. I didn’t even see them dock on the island.” Kid wouldn’t even call you a pirate. All you did was follow him around! Not to mention how sometimes you managed to grab loot before he could! It was unbelievable how easily you made his blood boil.

“I’m disappointed, Captain. I’ve heard so many things about you and I was excited to see how strong you were, and yet all I get is a piece of metal? I guess your strength was simply rumors.” A pout appeared on your face as the crew around you giggled.

“What the hell did you just say?!” Kid jumped from his seat and dashed towards you, Killer’s voice in the background. 

Your crew dispersed as you soon turned to run from him with a smile on your face. It’s like you thought that this was a game. There was no way you were going to get away with calling him weak. Killer saved your ass from his rage one too many times, and now his mission was to finally kill you. Just to make an example to everyone who dares to call him weak again.

“Let’s see if you can catch me pretty boy.”

~~~

How DARE you embarrass him like that! How DARE you make him chase you until sunset, where Killer had to physically drag him back to the Victoria Punk. How DARE you blow him a kiss and tell him you’ll “see him soon.” Not if he can do anything about it. You’ve already plagued his life enough; just thinking about you made him see red.

“Trying to kill someone isn’t a good way to flirt kid.” The urge to strangle his best friend has never been stronger.

“Hey, what’s this?” Killer had let go of him and picked up something that was left on the ramp onto the ship. Kid turned around to see what he was talking about, only to see a box wrapped in wrapping paper.  He couldn’t see what was written, but Killer’s laughter only heightened his curiosity.

“Looks like you got an admirer Kid.” Killer handed him the wrapped box before walking away. With a frown on his face, he looked down at the box with his name written on it and the symbol of your pirate crew on it as well. 

Despite his annoyance at your existence, he still wanted to know what could be inside it. So he ripped it apart without caring for the paper thrown around. He opened the box and saw an assortment of chocolates and a few tools that he was looking at on the island. 

“How the hell?” How did you know he was looking at those specific tools? There was no way you could have guessed it. 

Despite the fact he wanted to throw it into the ocean with it simply being from you, he actually needed the tools, so he took them before dropping the chocolates into the salty water below him.

~~~

Kid’s hands were covered in oil as metal scraps and tools surrounded him as he slaved away in his workshop. It always managed to calm him down after his rage had it’s turn. And it most certainly did after he met you. He’s never hated someone more in his entire life. It didn’t help that he kept dreaming of you after leaving the previous island. It was always the same. He would chase you and chase you, yet never being close enough. Even his dreams taunted him with his hatred for you. He couldn’t escape you even if you weren’t physically here.

Thankfully, he was docked on a new island. Killer said there wasn’t a trace of you on the island, and Kid’s never been happier. Heat, Killer, and Wire went to grab supplies for the trip to the next island. If he wanted to go to the Grand Line, he had to go to the Sabaody Archipelago. The place where those dumb Celestial Dragons spent their time at-

“Fuck!” Kid looked at his hand and saw a newly burnt patch of skin. Guess that’s what he gets for not paying attention.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite pretty boy. I was starting to miss you.” Great, just what he needed. Your nagging voice playing in his head. It had to be in his head. He was on a completely different island, and you weren’t seen anywhere on the current island. There was no way you were actually here.

“You look so tense. What's wrong, pretty boy?” The feeling of someone's breath fanning against his exposed neck made him freeze for a second. His eyes turned to his right, and he saw your smiling face looking at him as you gently played with the fur of his coat. You were actually here in HIS boat and in HIS workshop.

The familiar anger boiled up again as he quickly grabbed a wrench before swinging his body around to hit you with the metal tool. Your sickening smile, looking him in the eyes.

“Your too slow, Captain.” Your voice appeared behind him making his eyes widen as he felt time slow down. His eyes switched to behind him, and he saw your form standing on the other side of his workbench.

“What-” A loud crash erupted from the Victoria Punk as Kid went crashing into the wall, Once again failing to get a hit on you. But just as quick as he crashed into the wall, he got up and took after you, who was already out the door, and made your way to the island.

There was no way you were getting away again. You ran into a crowd of people to try and block him from going after you. Well tried.

“Get the fuck out of my way!” The way his voice boomed across the town had all the civilians running to the safety of their homes, praying that the infamous man wouldn’t harm them. All the doors locking as they hid in their homes, only looking out the window to see who was the poor soul that had fallen victim to Eustass Kid’s wraith.

“You gotta run faster than that captain.” The streets that were now empty gave him the perfect view of your movements. 

All the metal surrounding the streets were ripped from their posts as Kid gathered as much as he could before setting his sights on you and repealing all the loose metal in your direction. There was no way you wouldn’t get hit! It was the perfect plan!

Until you turned a sharp corner.

“Fucking bitch!” nothing from that swarm of metal hot you. Not a single scratch. His blood boiled as he heard your laughter before turning the same corner you did. A vast forest stood before him that hid behind the town as he saw you run in between the trees. He might now have much metal to work with,  but the overly crowded forest should slow you down.

“Come on, Captain, I want to see you pin me down. It’s a view I could get used to.” Your sultry voice made his heart skip a beat as he tried to run even faster.

“Don’t be stupid! It’s not going to be like that!” His face turned red as his hands grew slightly sweaty. No! He wouldn’t let you plague your mind while he was so close to finally catching up to you.

“Not even if I beg? I promise to be good.” Your words flashed images in his head, begging him to play your game. 

Your body managed to avoid the tree branches and roots gracefully, making it look like a toddler could do it. Looking behind you, you see the red-faced captain still hot on your tail. You knew he’d never catch you, not when you had the power of the Speed Speed fruit on your side. It was cute to see him try, though.

Too busy to ignore the unholy images you spoke about, Kid failed to see the big tree root that protruded from the earth. Without remorse, the root caught his foot and stopped him from going forward. Instead, he went straight to the ground with a loud “FUCK”. Blacking out as soon as his head hit the ground.

~~~

Opening his eyes, he saw the familiar walls of his ship's infirmary.

“Ugh my head…” Sitting up from the uncomfortable bed, he reached to touch his pounding head. The feeling of bandages touched his fingertips. How the hell did he get hurt? Oh. Now he remembered. He chased you, and his foot got caught on that stupid tree root. But that didn’t explain how he got back to the ship though. There was no way you could have carried him back.

The familiar shade of red wrapping paper caught his eye as he saw another box sitting on the chair near the bed. Did you get on the ship AGAIN?! And leave him another one of your stupid gifts? It only served as another reminder of why he disliked you. But once again, his curiosity got the better of him. He ripped off the paper, and inside the box laid a small trinket in the shape of a heart, along with his favorite type of candy. How did you know that he liked it? Only Killer knew what kind of candy he enjoyed. Did Killer sell him out?

“Ah, your finally awake.” The infirmary door opened, and out popped Killer from behind it. 

“How did I get here, and where is that damn woman?!”

“Well, that ‘damn woman’ carried you all the way back from wherever you ate shit to the ship. She said you hit your head on a rock really hard. She cleaned up that nasty cut you got and bandaged you up.”

“Why did you let her on the ship?!”

“I was too shocked to see our captain being pushed towards the ship in a wheelbarrow knocked out with the woman he hated steering it.” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. How could he let something like this happen?! His pride/ego could possibly get more damaged!

“Personally, I think you should thank her. She could have left your dumbass for the Marines to find and catch you.”

“I'd rather drown.” the sound of footsteps made both Kid and Killer’s eyes look towards the open door. Seeing if Heat or Wire would appear, but they didn’t.

You did.

“How is he-oh your awake. That's good to see. Worried you gave yourself brain damage.” This time, instead of your teasing smile, you looked genuinely worried and relieved. Why? Why would you help him after he’s actively tried to kill you? Twice? Were you an idiot?

“Good to see you (Y/N). Thanks again for bringing him back.” So that was your name? Huh, guess he never cared to learn it before.

“My pleasure. It was worth seeing how cute he looked sleeping. It was like a reward.” his body went hot with rage and something else. Whatever it was, it made him not want to hit you with a wrench. And he hated it.

“Well, I best be off. I simply came to see if sleeping was beauty was okay, and thankfully, he’s still himself. My crew is probably wondering where I am, so I'd best be off. See you later, Killer.” With that, you turned around to leave before sending Kid a small smile. 

“And see you soon as well, Captain.”

~~~

It’s not his fault his eyes kept looking at your tits. You were the one practically showing them to the world with how low-cut your shirt was. It screamed slut, and all the men at the bar had their eyes on you. Hopefully, you wouldn’t see him and bother someone else. He lost count of how many islands you followed him to. And yes, you followed him even if you made it to the island before him. You came into the bar after him, so technically, you followed him. All he wanted to do was drink some booze, yet he was given the misfortune of seeing you again.

Turning his head again, his eyes immediately went over to you and looked up and down your body before stopping at your chest again. They looked so soft and -no! What was he thinking?! He couldn’t think such lewd thoughts about an enemy, especially about you. He just won't look at you anymore. He can do it easily. Your tits have no control over him.

“What are you doing here all alone, pretty boy? I can give you some company if you want.” The feeling of arms draping down his shoulders to his chest had him freeze up. Soft fingertips brushed against his chest as he felt someone's head rest on his shoulder. 

“Fucking slut,. Go bother someone else. You’ll find some desperate bastard to fuck a whore like you.”

“No thanks. I have my sights set on being someone else whore.” Your fingers barely drew shapes on his chest as he felt you breathe against his neck. He could feel your chest pressed against his back. 

“I have my sights set on being your whore.” He could feel his face burn at your words. His eyes widen as you render him speechless. He grits his teeth together as his hands go into fists.

“Come on, Captain. Won’t you play with me?” He turned his eyes to yours, and how you looked at him made his chest swell with emotions he couldn’t name.

“Captian (Y/N)! Some marines and an admiral have been spotted! We should leave the island as soon as possible!” A crew member ran up to you, panting as they tried to regain air.

“Damn. Stupid marines. Always ruining the fun! Guess I’ll see you soon, pretty boy.” Your arms left his chest as the warmth they once provided left. Kids eyes couldn’t help but follow your body as you walked away from him. His heart finally slowed down when you left the bar. 

~~~

The night was dark, and the sky was clear, so the stars showed beautifully on the Victoria Punk. Everyone sleeping and waiting for the sun to rise. Everyone except Kid.

You gifted him another present, and this time it was a letter. A love letter, to be exact. He almost didn’t read it, but the thought of what it could say nagged at his mind. He finally gave in and read the letter. He could feel his face burn from the words of your letter. It fed into his ego and told him everything you liked about him and how you wished you could always be with him. All of it was filled with loving words and admiration. 

It didn’t help that ever since the bar, you’ve wormed your way into his head, and when he closed his eyes, all he could think about was you. And he hated it. The feeling of your body against his lingered even days later. The way your fingers brushed against his chest had him craving the feeling even though he’d never admit it. And instead of his dreams chasing you down in rage. It turned into something much more sinful.

Dream where you're on your knees with his cock down your throat. Tears in your eyes as you gagged against him. The way you coughed after, he pushed your head down so you’d swallow everything he had to offer. A small bit of cum would dribble off the side of your mouth. Dreams where you were crying under him, telling him how he was too big for your body. Your nails digging into his back. The way you’d scream his name as you cried from pleasure. Telling him that you belong to him and that you’d do anything for him.

Then, he’d wake up so painfully hard that he’d grit his teeth. Angry at himself for giving in to your games. Angry that not even a cold shower can save him. The only thing that could was the thought of you and your smile. 

~~~

After finally reaching the Sabaody Archipelago, fate led him once again to you as he saw you from across the restaurant. He left to grab something he forgot on the ship, and when he came back, you were sitting in HIS seat. Sitting in his chair and talking to his second-in-command. His crewmates laughing at something you must have said.

A feeling rose in his gut as he furrowed his brows, watching you and his crew get along so well. It felt like a venom that burned in his chest as he watched how chummy you had gotten in the ten minutes he was gone. But then. Your eyes moved around the room before connecting to his. You sent him that familiar lustful look that pissed him off, but now, it only made his cock rock hard.

You kept eye contact as you curled your toes in your shoes. After what seemed like forever, he finally came back. The restaurant did him justice as he just looked so handsome under the lights. His eyes bore into yours, and you feel your body heat up. All it took was a simple look that made you so weak.

“I’ll be back, guys. I forgot I have to meet my crew in a few minutes. I’ll come back since it won’t be long.” It was a lie, but they didn’t need to know that. 

“Alright, see you soon then!” They all waved you goodbye as you made your way to the door and towards Kid. You never broke eye contact with him as you walked past him. Your hands, slightly grazing his own before leaving through the door. His warm skin still lingered on your fingertips, which made your cheeks burn as the sunshine bore down on you.

You weren’t really gonna meet your crew. You were simply throwing a bone that maybe, just maybe, you finally managed to invade Kid’s mind. Perhaps he might follow you out of the restaurant before dragging you back to his ship to do whatever sinful fantasies his mind came up with.

“Grab her!” The voice of a random man yelled, and before you knew it, multiple men jumped out from where they hid. Nets, ropes, and weapons filled their hands as they surrounded you. Ah, this must be the bounty hunters for which Sabaody was also famous. 

“Your coming with us, Captain (Y/N).” The same male voice commented.

“No thanks. You smell like sweat, and I don’t really like the smell.” Faces of anger surrounded you as all you could do was snicker. Truly pathetic. You're offended that they think that some measly men would stop you-

“Got her!”

“What-” The feeling of what felt like a rope wrapped around your neck and pulled tight enough that you almost flew back. You go to run away only to stop when you realize that your devil fruit powers weren’t working, and you feel yourself get weaker.

“Sea stone infused rope. Pretty nifty, huh?” You felt your hands/arms being grabbed roughly, limiting your ability to move more.

“Let me go, you bastards!” The rope around your neck only got tighter as what you guessed was the leader walking towards you. A knife shining from the sunlight gripped tightly in his hand.

“Your worth a lot of berries Captain (Y/N). I can only imagine what we could do with them when we bring your head as a trophy. You felt your heart beat faster as your life flashed before your eyes. You close your eyes as you try to imagine yourself anywhere but here.

“Holy shit!” Just then, the rope that was being pulled tightly against your neck went loose. The same was said for your arms as the men that held them violently let go. It all happened so fast that you didn’t know what happened. You finally opened your eyes and saw three men knocked out before you.

“What? How?” Sounds of metal crackling behind you had your body turning violently. To your shock, Kid stood there looking at you without words.

“You…” Your voice raspy from the rope being pulled so tightly. Pulling the rope from around your neck, you felt tears rim your eyes. Not spending another moment, you ran towards the man in front of you. Your arms not even wrapping around his exposed torso all the way. His warm chest brought comfort compared to the cold rope.

“You look pathetic, idiot.” You said no words as you just cried into his chest.

“Thank you, Kid! Thank you so much…” You sobbed as you held onto him tighter. You didn’t expect him to hug you back, but the feeling of an arm wrapping around you had your heart skipping. 

“How can you be a captain when your so weak?” His words no doubt insults, but his voice was softer than you’ve ever heard.

“Let's go. Tthose idiots might bring reinforcements, and I’m too tired to deal with something so stupid.” Nodding into his chest, you forced yourself to let him go. You moved to his side and started walking back to the restaurant. You needed water and booze to forget how close to death you were.

You both walked side by side until the restaurant was in sight. Just then, the feeling of Kids hand grabbing your own made your eyes widen. You look up at him in shock, but he only looked forward with a familiar frown. Not wasting a second, you held his hand tight and walked closer to him. Feeling safety in his presence. A smile appeared on your face, and even though you didn’t see it, his did as well.

[jowrites]

We got Married - 6. How is this real?(written)

Masterlist Here.

Prev. Next.

TW: Cursing, stalkers(sasaengs), sexual themes, more to follow

Taglist: @lisaswifey @heeeseeungs

It was well past 2 PM when Roman found herself waiting in her van for the arrival of her ‘husband’. They were shooting the 2nd episode after getting the reactions from the pilot. The views were up and so were the spirits of the producers for this reboot of the iconic show. Throughout the month, Roman and Heeseung have been sending friendly texts back and forth and getting to know each other better so they weren’t so awkward around one another. Heeseung especially was determined to show a side of him that was genuine and true to himself, and something that his fans would enjoy. 

Roman set her phone aside after the texts chuckling to herself at her new friend. He was quite interesting, he had his moments of boldness but then would shy away and run. It’s almost like his impulses would take over then he’d come back to being in control and be ashamed of himself for even trying. It was very endearing and he was very unaware of just how charming he actually was. It’s weird, before this, she barely knew anything about Enhypen or even who they were, but since coming to the realization of their existence it’s almost as if they’re everywhere now. She finds herself seeing their posters, hearing their music, and even running into them more at the company now that she’s part of HYBE. 

There was a knock on her van and a staff member came up and greeted her. The staff began to mic her up, explaining Heeseung is 2 minutes away and will immediately be miced and they’d start filming right away. They were both given instructions that they are to walk into their shared ‘newlywed’ home and take a look around, be in awe of the place and excited. They were encouraged to give nice reactions and amazement of their home, and then they were going to hear their doorbell and Heeseung was to answer it and get a letter. The letter was their first instructions on their first couple mission.

Roman’s manager carried her small overnight suitcase, which Roman quickly took and advised him to rest as she does this. Her manager was ready for a nap, she could see it on his face. A van pulled up next to hers and staff quickly ran to the vehicle and in all his glory stood Heeseung. He didn’t even look like he had just been mobbed at the airport, his hair was nicely styled and he probably had his makeup touched up in the car. He made eye contact with Roman and she gave him a small wave, he smiled and waved back as they finished micing him up. 

“Okay, you both have your things?” The Producer asked through his mic and the two nodded. “We’re late on schedule so we’d like to start right away. Everyone be quiet, filming in progress. Let’s go!”

FILMING: IN PROGRESS

Roman stood beside Heeseung as the two admired the scenery and walked side by side. Heeseung quickly took notice of her suitcase and grabbed it from her, making her chuckle to herself. 

“You really don’t have to,” She said.

“Just because I’m your husband doesn’t mean I have to, I want to,” he said, and she looked down and just smiled at his words. He entered the passcode and opened the door for her, the two of them walking into their ‘house’ for the first time. 

“Wow! It’s so big!” Roman said, as she took her shoes off and walked further into the house.

Heeseung left their overnight cases by the door as the two of them began their own tour of the house. It was a slightly bigger house than she was expecting, especially for a couple. The kitchen was a decent size with brand new appliances, and it opened to the living room which had a big wall window that brought in the natural sunlight. It was quite similar to her own personal house, and she found it very cozy.

“Is this how newlyweds really live?” Heeseung asked as he walked around, Roman followed as they walked down the halls and checked out the rooms. They realized the house had a small indoor pool that looked very inviting. They would probably be advised to play in it later on in the show. 

“I guess so,” Roman said. A painting in the room quickly caught her eye and she took Heeseung’s hand and pointed. “Look! They painted a picture of us!”

Heeseung looked at their touched hands, feeling the electricity go through his body and quickly ignoring it to look at what she was showing him. It was a photo of them, painted, or was it AI? He couldn’t tell, but it looked real as if they stood side by side and took the photo together.

“There will be plenty of times for us to take even better photos together,” he said. Right as he said that, the doorbell rang and Heeseung left to get the mail. Roman met him in the living room, taking a seat on the sofa right as Heeseung came back, opening the letter in his hands. 

“Welcome, newlyweds! We hope you like the new house. I’m sure the house feels empty without your touch, so we are giving you the opportunity to make the house more ‘you’. On the table you will find things to do together that you can place around the house and make it yours. Have fun, and take this time to get to know your new husband/wife,” Heeseung looked over and saw that there were canvases, puzzles, but what caught his eye was the legos. 

“Oh, they have legos!” Roman exclaimed, reaching for the lego sets first.

“You like legos?” Heeseung asked, feeling excited as she held them up.

“I love legos. It’s actually a hobby of mine, legos and miniatures,” Roman smiled, admiring the boxes.

“We should do that first, I love legos too!” Heeseung exclaimed, grabbing the box and looking over it.

“Yes! We can do both of them,” She giggled, and Heeseung felt a blush creep up. He didn’t realize how much he enjoyed hearing that sound.

The two of them sat on the floor, opening the box and spreading out the set. He grabbed for the instructions as Roman began to organize each bag together. He knew this would take a while, but it was a good bonding exercise and he just found he enjoyed being in her presence. 

*******************

“...And that’s basically how I ended up here, JYP never gave up on me,” Roman said, finishing up her story of how she came to be.

The two of them have been sitting on the floor for the past 2 hours, talking and laughing together. Sharing stories and getting to know each other better.

“That’s pretty admirable of him, did he know he would raise one of the most successful musicians of all time?” Heeseung asked.

“I think deep down he knew I’d make a name for myself, that’s for sure,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “He’s really good friends with Bang PD, and it was him who encouraged us to be taken over by BigHit.”

“That explains a lot,” Heeseung said.

“Yeah. Do you like being an idol?” She asked suddenly, catching Heeseung off guard.

Heeseung stared at her for a second, reaching over and removing a strand of hair from her face that fell as she was finishing up some pieces.

“I do, it’s been a dream since I can remember, and I really love my fans. They’ve given us everything,” Heeseung said. “It gets tiring, but at the end of the day being on stage and making people happy is all worth it.”

“Yeah, can’t argue with that, look! We’re done!” Roman held up the last flower she finished and smiled brightly. 

“It’s pretty, just like you,” He coughed at that last one, causing Roman to laugh and nudge him. 

“You’re so cheesy,” she said.

“But you smiled,” He said.

She stuck out her tongue at him and he did the same, the two of them getting up to clean their mess. 

“Should we order dinner now?” Roman asked.

“Yes, I’m starving!” He said, grabbing the menu from the sponsored chicken place. “Do you trust me to order?”

“Order whatever you like, I’m sure I’ll like it too,” she came up and rested her head on his shoulder, looking over the tablet as Heeseung began to browse and order the food. He wouldn’t admit it, but his body was on fire every time she got close, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

***********************

FILMING: NOT IN PROGRESS.

It was well after 10 PM by now, they filmed their dinner activity and more painting activities. The producers got some good footage of Heeseung tying up Roman’s hair for her as she held a large piece of spicy chicken, her hands being sticky from the sauce and Heeseung noticing and tying her hair away from her. They also filmed more of their teasing and more of Heeseung’s cute side, being shy and admitting he wants to get closer to his partner. They already filmed their night routine, the two of them getting ready for bed together. Roman helped him put on a face mask and he did the same, the two of them giggling at each other the whole time.

Filming had now wrapped up for the night, the staff and managers sleeping on the 2nd floor as the two stayed on the first floor. There were cameras that filmed overnight in their room and that was the only rolling ones. The two of them were spread out on their sofa, finishing off two beers they had with their dinner. 

“Today wasn’t so bad,” Heeseung said, Roman nodding.

“I hope you felt more comfortable,” she said.

“Oh, we’re well over that stage…sweetheart,” he turned and winked at her.

“Dork,” she said, nudging him. “It feels better since we’re friends, right? I wasn’t being too pushy?”

“No, not at all. I’m actually glad you took the lead on this because I was so nervous. I was a mess, but I really appreciate you reaching out first and helping me. You’re a good person, Roman,” Heeseund said.

“That was a really nice compliment,” she said.

“What was?” Heeseung asked. “I’m being honest.”

Being called a good person, that’s really nice of you, thank you,” she said, turning and looking at his masked face. She started giggling at him, heat forming on her cheeks.

“What? Why Are you laughing?” He asked.

“You look so cute with this mask,” she pointed.

“Oh, I forgot I had it on,” he said, quickly removing the mask.

“Here let me,” she said, reaching her hands out and helping him spread the remains of the mask on his skin. They were so close together, he could feel her breath on his skin.

“Wow, this is crazy,” he whispered out.

“What is?” she asked.

“You’re even prettier up close. How are you my wife?”

[separatist-apologist]

The Death Of Peace Of Mind

When the curtains call the time, will we both go home alive?

Summary: Eris Vanserra is a man who is used to feeling nothing.

All that is about to change.

For day 5 of romance week (but maybe we're not gonna tag this one): Feelings Realization

Read on AO3 | Part 1

“What would you do if you found out the guy you were kind of seeing is a psychopath?” Arina asked, jogging across a sidewalk before a car could come barreling through.

“Are you talking about Eris?” Elain replied through the phone. “I know he can be intense, but underneath it all, he’s really decent.”Arina almost laughed. She was talking about Eris, who wished her a good morning each day and asked her how things were going when she got off work. He’d sent flowers to her doorstep.

And at night he climbed through her window, tied her up with rope, and ate her pussy like it was the finest meal he’d ever had. He was also planning his next murder, which Arina was struggling with. Not because he was doing it…but because she found she just didn’t care. 

What did it say about her that she was anxious for all three of them to be dead? That what she really wanted was for him to take off that stupid mask, tell her the truth, and let her merge these two men into one complete picture. 

“We have a date tomorrow night,” Arina told Elain, making her way to Eris’s office. He’d made this appointment for her, the controlling bastard. It hadn’t stopped her from making her way across the city to see him or from putting on a clingy dress and make-up, knowing full well he was going to have to unzip the top if he wanted to see her ribs. 

No bra, of course. 

It was ridiculous, but nothing he hadn’t seen before at this point. Arina had stopped wearing clothes to bed given Eris would just slice them right off her body. One ruined pajama set was fine. Five of them was too much. Besides, she rather liked being woken to the feel of the soft blindfold sliding over her eyes. He’d found more gentle rope after the first night left burns on her skin, and tied her so there were no lingering welts.

For a murderer—and a stalker—he was surprisingly thoughtful. 

“I hope it goes well,” Elain offered cheerfully. “And not just because I think it would be fun to date brothers. Eris could use someone in his life. He seems lonely.”Arina wasn’t touching that with a ten foot pole. 

“Maybe,” she agreed, though she suspected there was more to it than that. Arina was at the office and needed to end this conversation before she saw the man in question. “Let me call you back.”

Arina slid her phone into her bag and entered the clinical office. She filled out the required paperwork and handed over her insurance and ID before she was directed to sit on a rather nice leather choice facing a television. A woman with a small child weaving around her legs bounced her foot as she glanced toward the door at the other end of the room. Magazines were spread over a chipped coffee table while different posters warning people not to smoke, drink, or have unprotected sex were hung against beige walls.

“Ms. Novak?” 

A nurse in cheerful lavender scrubs called Arina back. She wondered if Eris let her jump the line, or if this woman was waiting to see a different doctor. Arina was weighed, her blood pressure taken, and a patient history given before she was left alone behind a closed door, sitting atop an exam table that had a model of a human heart sitting on the little gray counter. She was tempted to fidget with it, to pull apart the different ventricles and see if she could piece it back together.

A knock on the door tempered that impulse. A moment later, Eris Vanserra poked his head through the crack before stepping in entirely. Arina’s heart took off at a gallop when she saw him, dressed in a white button down tucked into a pair of charcoal slacks. He looked incredible with his styled hair pushed off his elegant, handsome face. Closing the door, Eris turned a truly sultry smile on her.

“You came.”

“I’m sure you saw me on the sheet,” she replied, suddenly embarrassed by this obvious attempt to seduce him. Surely this man wasn’t creeping through her bedroom window each night. He didn’t seem capable of such a thing. 

“That doesn’t mean you’d show up,” he replied, sitting easily on a swivelling stool to pull up her chart. “How are you feeling?”

Raw from your fingers and mouth and rope. “Better,” she replied. He nodded, scanning whatever he saw on the screen.

“Sleeping well? Eating?”

“Yes and yes.”

“Any pain?”

She shook her head, forcing him to glance up at her. “Good,” he murmured, typing quickly. He stood, looking her over. With gentle, warm fingers, Eris turned her face toward his own and brushed his thumb over the bruise still healing on her cheekbone. 

Which one?

She almost shivered. 

Eris dropped his hand to step around the table for a stethoscope. “Deep breaths. Just like before,” he murmured, sliding the little notches into his ears. He was close enough she could smell the familiar crisp, spicy scent of his cologne. Her whole body reacted on instinct, flooding her with heat like she did every night. Eris didn’t seem to notice, or was too professional to acknowledge it. He merely replaced the little piece of metal against her back to listen to her lungs. 

He slid it around his neck, blinking as if he’d just realized what she was wearing. “I want to see your ribs. I’ll step out—”

“No,” she said, far too breathlessly as she swept her long hair over to one shoulder. “You can stay.”

She reached around the back of her dress for the zipper but Eris very gently replaced her hand with his own. He tugged the little piece of metal down over her spine before oh so gently pushing the straps off her shoulders. Arina held the front against her breasts, only because they were in his place of work and getting half naked seemed wildly inappropriate. 

His eyes darkened and she wondered if that was how he looked when he crawled between her legs each night. Eris skimmed his fingers over her ribs, pressing lightly. “Does that hurt?”

“No,” she whispered. He swallowed, exhaling a soft breath through his lips before reaching over her to push against her other set.

“And this?”

Arina turned her head to look at him, well aware they were mere inches from each other. They had a date tomorrow night. She ought to leave well enough alone.

His eyes slid to her lips. “It doesn’t hurt,” she breathed, palm pressed against his chest.

He groaned softly, taking that hand and tangling it in her hair for a brutal, yet familiar kiss. Did he really think she couldn’t tell the difference between his persona and real life? That a mask was enough to hide how utterly obvious he was being? Did he think she didn’t notice how he bit her lip, how his tongue was so demanding or how his fingers pushed at the fabric of her dress so he could tease her breasts? All of it was edged in pain.

Exactly the way she liked it.

Arina wondered how Eris liked it. He never let her touch him, even when she’d suggested he keep her blindfolded and fuck her. She was here, now. There was nothing stopping her from taking that hand on his chest and cupping him through his pants.

Eris moaned. “I want—”

“Me, first,” she interrupted, well aware of what he wanted. He did it every night until she was shaking and exhausted. It was her turn, she told herself. Her turn to slide off that exam table and onto the cold, white linoleum beneath her. She tugged at his belt while Eris watched, his eyes wild and dark. 

“Arina—”

“You need to be quiet,” she said, holding his gaze while undoing the button on his slacks. She could see the bulge in his pants and wondered how he’d been taking care of himself. Had he? Had he been using his hand, or was he all pent up? What would he taste like?

“You still have to take me out tomorrow,” she warned him, using the heel of her hand to rub him through his black boxer briefs.

“Whatever you want,” he told her, threading long fingers through her hair. “It’s all planned, but I can fuck—” he exhaled, throwing his head back when she pulled the long, thick length of him from his underwear and, without teasing or preamble, took the blunt, heavy head into her mouth. How much time did she have before a nurse came looking for him? 

This was payback for the nights in her bedroom when he refused to let her touch him. She was well aware Eris could have straddled her chest and shoved his cock into her mouth—she wanted him to. 

She couldn’t fit all of him, though it was clear Eris wanted her to try. Maybe if they were in her bedroom she would have. Tied to her headboard, unable to escape him, Eris could have pushed her nose to his abdomen and made her take all of them. No one would have heard her gag, her protests. 

Here, though, Eris was forced to yield when she pressed her palms against the tops of his thighs and slapped, forcing him to release his grip on her hair. Using one hand to make up the difference and her other to tease and toy with his balls, Arina threw herself into swallowing as much of him as she could silently. The scent of his cologne mingled with the clean taste of his skin and the near silent moans coming from the man above her. He’d braced his body against the counter behind him, though one hand was still using her hair to half fuck her face. 

He was too loud when she tightened her grip on him, teeth gently scraping against his skin. Of course he liked this rough. Of course he liked a little pain. Arina wasn’t gentle, then, nor was she polite. Saliva dragged from each pass of her mouth, her wrist twisting roughly each time she came back up.

Eris was shaking, reaching for her head with his other hand. Their eyes met in a silent question, to which Arina answered by hollowing her cheeks. 

Do it.

He snapped, hips pumping his cock furiously into her throat with just enough restraint to keep him from suffocating her. She wondered if today would mark a new development in their evenings together.

Was it fucked up that she hoped so? 

Eris grunted, pushing further into her throat to finish. Arina widened her jaw to suck down air, eyes closed for the first time to focus on swallowing without choking. He was panting, practically begging, shuddering as wave after wave of pleasure overtook him.

Good.

She felt like the score was better settled between them. 

Breathing as if he’d run a marathon, Eris gripped Arina by the tops of her arms and pulled her off him for a vicious, messy kiss. 

“Spend the night tomorrow,” Eris whispered, thumbs stroking her cheek.

“Why? So you can—”

“Fuck you? Yes, exactly,” he interrupted, eyes flashing. “Nice and slow, all night…no interruptions, nothing keeping me from doing everything I’ve been imagining all week…”

“Does this mean dinner is off?” she asked nervously. She didn’t want to be just a hookup.

He shook his head, kissing her again. “Date is still on.”

“We’ll see how I feel, I guess.”

“And if I insist?” he responded, allowing her to step back and slid the straps of her sundress back over her arms. 

Arina felt mischievous. “Then you’ll have to sneak into my bedroom window and have your wicked way with me, I suppose.”

He betrayed nothing. “Say you will. My place, my bed. I’ll buy you breakfast in the morning. And lunch, too—dinner, even, if you want.”

“You sound desperate,” she teased, her heart racing.

Eris only shrugged. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Eight oclock.”

She smiled. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

ERIS: 

Eris had no fucking idea how he managed to get through the rest of his day. He typed clinical notes and saw patients. He drove home and had dinner and talked to his mother on the phone. And the entire time, all he thought about was Arina on her knees, peering up at him through dark lashes as she choked down his cock. It was all he could feel, that wet, warm mouth, her pillowy tongue, her soft throat. He wanted to do it again. Wanted to wrap his hand around her neck and make her take every last inch of him, until her lips were blue and her eyes were glazed.

He thought she wanted that, too. 

He intended to go to her just as soon as he crossed a name off his list. Josh O’Neil was the second roommate who’d helped hold Arina down. Who’d been promised he could take a turn—and who therefore needed to die. 

He’d had a hell of a time tracking Josh down. The police presence had lingered, which was enough to keep Eris away. Something about that place bothered him. He couldn’t put his finger on it—but Josh and Jack were careful. Like they knew it was no self strangulation that had killed their friend, despite how Eris had looped that belt around his neck and left him with his pants around his ankles. 

He was curious. Curious enough to leave Arina to her bed and head out into the night. Back to that apartment where he knew Josh would be. Unlike Arina, who lived in the heart of a good neighborhood filled with people who didn’t pay close enough attention to her, Jack and Josh lived in a rougher neighborhood. A place where people intentionally looked the other way. It had made it easy to slip through a broken lobby door and into the apartment Arina had forced her way out of.

If Eris was young and lacked capital, it was the kind of place he might have chosen, too. 

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he approached. 

“Truce,” called a voice from an alleyway. Eris turned his head, his vision half obscured by his mask. He could hear shoes crunching on glass, dragging shadows from the dark. There was no streetlight to illuminate them, and when they appeared, Eris supposed he should have guessed.

That was Arina’s luck, to slip from one killer to another.

“How’d you get in?” Jack asked, pushing sandy brown hair off his face. He looked like every other douche bag Eris knew, minus the fresh, still damp blood soaking his shirt. Beside him, Josh stood just a little taller, grinning with amusement. Eris had his knife just behind his back and a gun tucked under his shirt, just in case. 

Eris didn’t respond, cocking his head as he tried to figure out how to best cut Josh’s throat and leave the corpse for Jack to deal with.

“Did we overstep?” Josh added. They didn’t know, then. They were young, still, and likely green. He wondered whose blood they were coated in or why they didn’t care. Sloppy, was what it was.

“Are we on your turf, fucking your whores?”

Eris remained silent.

“Look, we don’t need a war. We brought you a gift,” Jack said, gesturing to the alley behind them. There was no fucking way Eris was stupid enough to go back there. Josh laughed, turning his back without an ounce of fear to march back into the dark. It was the only opportunity Eris was going to get. Lunging, Eris pulled that curved blade from his pocket, and in one easy, fluid motion, brought it screaming across Josh’s neck.

He hit his knees with a loud thud, gasping into the dark. Eyes wild as he turned for his friend, who merely watched with a clinical, almost bored expression on his face. Neither of them moved, though Josh reached for them both, dragging himself against the pavement as if that would save him.

Only when he was still did Jack  turn to Eris. “You’ve done me a favor. They’re sloppy—messy. I’m going to leave your present in the ally so you understand that whatever score you think is between ought to be settled. I would hate for anyone else to get hurt. You understand.” Jack reached into the waistband of his jeans and as casually as he might have pulled out car keys, pulled out a gun. He didn’t point it at Eris—there was no need. He merely stepped over his friend's body, whistling to himself as he made his way home in the dark. Eris watched, hidden in the shadows, until Jack was far out of sight. 

Only then did he dare to creep into the alley.

He was nearly sick. They knew. A woman he didn’t recognize, far older than Arina, lay dead against a brick wall. She’d likely died hours before, though Eris couldn’t tell. He couldn’t stop looking at all that blood stained, blonde hair. A piece of paper was curled in her lifeless fingers—a message clearly written to him.

Eris pried it out, well aware he needed to get the fuck away from all those dead bodies. Clutching it in his fist, he took off, not daring to look back and careful where he stepped. The neighborhood was dangerous—it would look like Josh had left his lover to die in an alleyway, only to meet a coward's fate. 

Eris drove around for an hour, weaving around the city in random, unpredictable patterns in an effort to confuse anyone who might have followed. He never took off his mask—not until he was sure he was alone. Only then, parked in a gas station, did he dare unfurl that blood splattered note.

I always had a thing for blondes. 

Eris exploded in rage. Everything was so fucked. If Jack thought Eris was coming after him, he’d turn around and go right back after Arina. And even if Eris didn’t, Jack still might. The threat would loom for the rest of her life, unaware of the threat that surrounded her.

He willed himself not to care. To walk away from her, to drive back home and not give a fuck if Jack was plotting to end her life. He could go home, eat dinner, and call anyone in his phone to suck his cock. Just like he’d always done. Sh was a distraction.

She was the death of his peace of mind.

Eris took a breath. And then another.

Eyes closed, he reclined in his seat.

She’s nothing. She’s worthless.

She was everything.

He turned the ignition back on, well aware he could not go back to before. That life was over for him—he’d known it the moment he saw her. He needed to see her, to make sure she was okay. He’d wasted too much time tying her up and eating her out when he should have been teaching her how to disembowel someone. 

He couldn’t watch her all day, every day. Though Eris was about to try. He went home, well aware he’d crossed psychopath territory days ago. Who gave a shit at this point if there were cameras in her house? Who cared if he tracked her every fucking movement until Jack was floating in the river? One day she’d be grateful for all this, ideally when he had her sleeping in his bed every single night, but until then, this would suffice.

After all, he wasn’t trying to stop her from going anywhere. Or, that was how Eris rationalized all this. Stalking was usually reserved for prey, and it was short-lived. Eris was in this for the long haul, for better or worse, which meant she could not die. He was unwilling to discover what grief felt like. Arina would live, or they would both die, and those were the only options he was willing to entertain. 

Eris crept into her bedroom like he always did, relieved to find her alive and asleep. She was tucked beneath her blanket, one hand curled beneath her chin. He wanted to go to her, to brush bare knuckles over her still healing cheekbones, and tell her everything was going to be fine.

Instead, Eris set his cameras up to face every point of entry in her apartment, concealing them so she wouldn’t notice—not immediately, anyway. Maybe one day if she ever deep cleaned, which Eris doubted. He’d picked up the night before and again as he moved through her place, replacing her shoes by the door and putting her dirty laundry in the hamper. 

He was tempted to do her dishes, too—maybe another night. This night couldn’t be soft. He needed to make her sharp, at least around the edges. Tomorrow she’d be in his bed, and the next night, too, if he could get away with it. Eris had no idea what sort of timeline people who typically dated adhered to, but he knew his brother and Elain still weren’t living together and they’d been dating for a solid year.

Eris needed things to move a little faster. A degenerate like Jack wouldn’t be able to get past his doorman.

A month? 

He was still chewing that thought when he went to her in her bedroom. Eris pulled the blankets from her body, forgetting she’d been sleeping naked to keep him from cutting apart anymore pajamas. She was so absurdly pretty, with a body that made him irrational. He’d nearly thrown away a medical career that very afternoon when she’d gotten on her knees to suck his cock and he’d had to fight every urge in his body not to fuck her up against the door. 

She stirred, peaking open an eye. She wasn’t afraid of him anymore. Arina hadn’t been afraid since that first night, because Arina was strong. Because she was like him, even if she didn’t realize it. 

“I was starting to think you’d forgotten,” she whispered.

“There’s no forgetting you,” he replied, staring at that little strip of blonde hair over her pussy. He wanted to fuck her so badly it was making him stupid.

Tomorrow. You’ll be inside her tomorrow.

“Get dressed,” he added, forcing himself to look away.

“Why?”

“Where is your knife?”

There was a pause. “Why?”

He sighed, irritated that she still thought there was any possibility he was going to harm her. “You need to know how to use it.”

“Oh.”

“Do you really think—” he cut himself off when he realized she was standing, holding a little blue top between slim fingers. Those fucking legs. Even the mask couldn’t hide his reaction given he immediately looked up at the ceiling in an attempt to keep himself from falling to his knees. 

Had he ever been good at this? He was starting to think he hadn’t. Eris had to turn to keep himself from leaping on her, his cock roaring to life. He hadn’t forgotten that blowjob, after all. “I’m not going to kill you,” he ground out, willing himself to calm the fuck down. He counted to ten, assuming that was enough time for her to dress before he turned back around. She was bent over her pillow, fishing out that knife and Eris was aching and hot all over again. 

“Ready?” she asked innocently.

Not in a million fucking years.

“Let's begin.”

ARINA:

Arina rubbed her eyes, crossing her legs again. Eris had kept her up most of the night running her through drills without telling her why it was suddenly so important she learn how to stab. She much preferred the night he went down on her. Arina was in her living room, dressed in a red slip dress and heels. The time shone 7:59 on the stove which made Arina antsy. He wasn’t coming. 

She didn’t know why she thought that—only that it was still possible she was wrong about him and blowing him in his office had scared him off. Arina had to be careful when it came to men—give them what they wanted too early and they stopped trying.

Not soon enough and they didn’t try at all.

The clock shifted to eight and a soft knock graced the door. Arina exhaled a breath. Arina went to him, drinking in the rich, familiar scent of his cologne. Eris looked incredible, tall and muscular in inky black trousers and a matching black shirt. He reached for her, arm around her back to pull her into him for a soft, passionate kiss.

“Sorry,” he murmured, not looking sorry at all. Arina decided not to mention her lipstick had smeared over his mouth. It looked…well, it looked a little like blood. What did it say that she sort of liked that? 

“Missed you, too,” she said with a smile. “I’m glad you came.”

“This is all I’ve thought about,” he admitted, looking past her at the overnight bag she’d packed. “All ready to go?”

Eris was smooth, swapping their positions so she stood on the porch and he was striding into her apartment for the bag. Arina tried so hard to smother the smile on her face—failing when he slung the floral straps over his shoulders with a sultry expression. 

Arina nodded before asking, “What’s the plan for tonight?”

“Dinner,” he said, closing the door behind her. “And something else I think you’ll like—not my cock, don’t look at me like that—ice cream after, if you want. Or my cock, if—”

Arina smacked him lightly on the arm. “It was one blow job, Eris.”

He yanked open the passenger side for her, clearly working for the sex he expected to happen later that evening. “Forgive me for wanting many, many more.”

“Is that all it takes?” she all but laughed, folding herself into the familiar leather interior. Eris snapped the door shut, tossed her bag in the trunk, and joined her in the car. 

Eris glanced over, smug and pleased in equal measure. “It doesn’t hurt, that’s for sure.”

Arina was grinning the entire way to the expensive restaurant Eris had picked out. There was no lull in the conversation and though it was easily the nicest place Arina had ever eaten in, Eris didn’t make it weird. He didn’t do that thing where, when pulling out his card to pay, he looked over at her so she knew it had been expensive and he expected to be repaid in some way.

Arina was doubting herself by the time they reached the theater. Eris was so pleased with himself to have secured ballet tickets on such short notice. He was witty, he was well-dressed and elegant and charming.

Was he also the kind of man who could strangle someone to death? 

She’d snoop, she decided once they were seated in the dark. He had to sleep eventually, and once he did, she’d go through his things and prove he was the man creeping through her window each night.

Arina prayed he was, at any rate, because she didn’t think Ghost was going to be cool with another man. And if she was being perfectly honest, she much preferred Eris, who’d put his hand on her thigh and was rubbing lazy circles over her skin while he watched the show. She’d take the doctor if his hobby’s skewed toward vigilante justice.

But no one else.

That was a dangerous thought, given she just barely knew Eris to begin with. It was too soon to say she liked him enough to excuse a multitude of felonies and yet standing in the elevator of his building, his fingers brushing the back of her hand while Arina explained all the things she was sure he’d missed, she didn’t care. She hadn’t cared last night when he’d been barking orders at her through that stupid Halloween mask and she didn’t care when he led her into his absurdly large penthouse, swaggering like a man with a big dick he knew was going to be wet soon enough.

Eris took her bag straight to his bedroom. “Just in case you think I’m the sort of gentleman who’d offer you a guest room,” he told her, eyes flashing. Eris’s bedroom was immaculate, with a wall of glass overlooking the city. His bed was large and draped in black silks and cream cotton, the headboard framed by the glass. She imagined he woke up each morning bathed in golden light and found herself jealous of such a small opulence.

Two nightstands on either side of his bed held little lamps, a book…and a knife. “Afraid of being attacked in your sleep?” she teased, walking toward it. Eris didn’t stop her, fingertips pressed into the wood at the top of the door frame as he leaned his large, tall body against it.

“You never know,” he murmured, his easy expression slipping into something more intense. Arina unsheathed it from the leather, inhaling a sharp breath. Was he even trying to hide it, then? It was an identical match to her own blade, curved and impossibly sharp.

Eris’s smile was edged, eyes watching her with open amusement. Did he want her to guess? Or was this part of the fun? Arina slid it back into the holster, mind racing.

“I suppose a doctor would be good with a knife,” she said lightly.

“Very good,” he all but purred, pushing off the frame to come to her. “Though, I think I’m more skilled with my hands.”

She shivered—not from fear, but want. He was prowling toward her, every inch of him wholly focused on her. 

“You don’t need to worry about that,” he murmured, taking the handle from her fingers and tossing it with a clunk back to the bedside table. “Or anything but me.”

“I should be worried about you?” she whispered, looking up into his amber eyes. They seemed to burn, were all but living flame.

“Maybe a little,” he admitted as one hand cupped the back of her head. He pulled her closer, eyes slipping to her mouth.

“And if I’m not?” she replied. 

He smiled slightly. “Even better for me.”

Kissing him was just as good as she remembered. Better, even, with that mask partially pulled back. Eris wasn’t pretending, though he wasn’t openly admitting what he was, either. Arina reached for him, twining her arms around his neck to drag him closer. She’d meant to force him to watch a movie, to work for the right to unzip her dress.

Eris backed her toward the bed, tongue invading her mouth like having her was his mandate, a directive from the gods themselves. He groaned softly, pressing them both into the mattress. 

“What’s your rush—” She tried to slow him down, but Eris was a man possessed. He swallowed the rest of her words, reaching for her thigh to hitch around his waist. Grinding himself against her ended Arina’s weak protests. She’d forgotten the size of him, forgotten how it had felt to have him in her mouth, her hand. 

She wanted to know what it would feel like to have him in her body, bad enough that she arched into him, tugging at his perfect hair until she’d thoroughly unmade him. She had the sense that Eris’s sleek, unbothered exterior was merely another mask for whatever writhing creature lay just beneath the surface. How many people got to see him like this? How many had he let in?

Eris reared up, thighs bracketing her body as he began undoing the buttons on his shirt. “I can’t stop thinking about yesterday,” he told her, his chest rising and falling. “About your mouth—fuck—” She’d propped herself up on her elbows to watch him undress. Tall, lean, and still well-muscled, Eris Vanserra was a fucking dream. Exactly her type, she thought as he shoved that nice shirt off his frame and tossed it to the floor. Not so tidy after all, she thought with a smile.

“What’s that for?” he asked gruffly, eyes searching her face. His cheeks had warmed, highlighting the smattering of freckles dusting his nose.

“You,” she breathed, running her palm over his stomach. “You’re beautiful.”

“Beautiful,” he repeated, as if he couldn’t believe she’d said such a thing. Arina was given no opportunity to insist she was right or even offer up another compliment. Eris was back on her, kissing her like a desperate, wild man. This was what had been missing from their nights together, she thought. Eris was rough and yet kind, his hands palming her through her dress to edge the pleasure he offered with the sweetest touch of pain.

She could meet him. Arina ranked her nails down his bare back, sharp enough to all but draw blood. Eris groaned, grinding his cock against her body. 

“Is that what you like, Eris?” she whispered, hooking her leg against his waist. He responded with a nip to her bottom lip. Arina wanted to see all of him. Reaching for his belt, she meant to fully undress him so she could take him back into her mouth before she rode him into oblivion. She wasn’t tied up this time, and to Arina, that meant she had control.

He had to do what she said, what she wanted. 

Eris was quicker, flipping her to her stomach so he could unzip her dress and push it off her body. Eris wrapped the long strands of her hair around his wrist and pulled, arching her back up off the bed.

“There she is,” he whispered, letting Arina shove the dress down to her knees. No bra, which he must have realized in the theater given how cold she was. She had worn a lacy red thong, which Eris snapped like a thirteen year old boy, chuckling to himself when her head snapped to look over her shoulder. 

“I’ve been thinking about this since I saw you in my brother's apartment,” he whispered, rubbing his hand over her ass cheek. “I wanted to bend you over the kitchen counter and fuck you so hard the whole building complained.”

“Eris,” she whispered, wiggling her hips while he maneuvered the scrap of lace off her body. She was utterly naked, pushed up on her knees and elbows. Eris’s eyes were glazed over, drinking in the sight of her. In any other circumstances, Arina would have felt self-conscious about being so on display.

Eris made her seem like something sexy, something he’d been waiting on his entire life. She knew he’d seen her naked before, but this was different. Arina pulled her hair from his grasp, yanking the strands from her scalp. She knew what he wanted—to fuck her from behind, until she was all but suffocating into a pillow.

She wanted control. This first time, Arina wanted to decide when and how he came. 

“On your knees, Eris,” she whispered, holding his haze. He cocked his head, sitting on his haunches, and for a moment she thought he’d say no. 

“I’m putting my face in that pussy,” he informed her, a lazy smile on his face.

“Then you’ll do it on your back,” she declared, anticipation building in her chest. He didn’t stop her as she trailed her fingers down his chest or when she reached for his belt buckle. In fact, Eris remained still until both his pants and his underwear were down by his knees, waiting to join her clothes on the floor.

“Is this what you want, then?” he asked, his thick, long cock jutting from between her legs. Arina scooted closer until the tip of him was bruised against her stomach.

“Maybe I’d like to tie you up,” she whispered, holding his gaze. Eris’s eyes flashed—not with fear, but excitement. Grabbing her by the back of her neck, Eris kissed her roughly, teasing her breasts with his other hand. Was she being obvious enough?

I know and I don’t care.

Pulling her hair to arch her neck, Eris pressed a sucking kiss to the hollow of her neck. “Do whatever you like with me.”

She was quick, pushing him to the bed before he could change his mind. “How does it feel?” she asked him, raking her nails up and down his bare chest as she swung her leg over his body. Eris’s eyes were wholly dark, watching her with interest. 

He responded by grabbing her by the hips and yanking her up to his face. “Feels fucking fantastic,” he replied, kissing one thigh, and then the other. It hadn’t occurred to her that Eris would still get what he wanted even if she was on top.

Not until he pulled her against his face so it was him suffocating. Arina pitched forward, gripping the dark wood headboard to keep herself from falling off him. With her eyes shut, she was practically back in her bedroom. He wasn’t even trying to hide who he was. The only difference was this time, Arina could ride him the way she often wanted and was prevented by his hands. Eris was forever holding her still so he could lick the way he wanted, keeping her just at the edge for as long as he deemed appropriate—sending her flying over the edge when he tired of teasing. 

Not that Eris didn’t try. There would be bruises on her hips from how tight he held her, trying to still her so he could prolong fucking her with his tongue. Anytime Arina got too loud or traded her hold on the headboard for his hair, Eris would move his tongue down her body, denying her the release she wanted so badly.

It was driving her insane. He was driving her insane.

“You can end this, pretty girl,” he panted, stopping entirely when Arina let out a frustrated growl. “Beg me to let you come.”

“Eris,” she replied, pushing his face back into her. He chuckled darkly, sucking her clit between his lips as she began to ride his face again. He was clever, his tongue gliding over her in just the perfect rhythm, building her up just until she was right there—and then he moved, jerking his head to deny her what she wanted. No matter how vicious she was with his hair, Eris always managed to evade her.

He was going to make her beg.

Arina was dying, throbbing from unmet need. Every inch of her was wound tighter than a bow string.

“Eris,” she gasped, hating how his tongue slowed, tracing lazy circles around her clit. He hummed out a response. Arina whined, hips jerking desperately. “Please.”

His tongue was no faster. Waiting.

“Please let me come.”

He groaned, gripping her by the thighs again. Arina rolled her hips, his tongue rising to meet her. This. This was what she needed. Eris sucked and licked as excitement built through Arina, gathering like molten heat just at the base of her spine. This time, when she hung over that edge, Eris kept going until she came. He let her ride his face like she was a wild, desperate animal, his arms shaking with the effort it took to keep himself flat on his back. Arina couldn’t breathe, was hot and tight and alive for maybe the first time in her life. 

She knew what he would try and do next. Arina was quick and Eris was needy. She swung off his face, pulling herself roughly from his grasp.

“Not this time,” she breathed, grabbing him by the chin for a kiss. Eris groaned again, arching into her hand when she reached for that thick cock. She stroked and kissed, chasing the taste of her release until she’d come down just enough. She wanted him to feel the aftershocks, to know what was waiting for him if he let go. 

Eris reached for her and Arina swatted, still holding his cock as she straddled his hips. “First time belongs to me,” she said, rising up on her knees to tease the thick head of him over her soaked pussy. 

“And the next time?” he grunted, neck arching with pleasure. 

“I’ll do whatever you say,” she whispered, sinking herself down on him. Eris was loud, which surprised her, groaning as she took each bruising inch of him. His hips bucked, driving himself deeper and drawing a loud gasp from Arina who was trying so hard to adjust to the stretch of him.

Eris watched her, eyes half lidded. He was struck dumb for the moment but if he realized she was struggling to accommodate him, he’d take over. Arina rocked herself against him, squeezed so tight she could barely breathe.

“Fuck, sunshine,” he panted, merging his two personas without meaning to. Digging her nails into his chest, Arina kept going, if only to hear him make more of those sounds. Moaning and heaving, all the while watching her. Eris’s legs parted behind her, as if spreading them wider somehow heightened his pleasure. 

Arina wanted to see him come apart. It took her a moment to figure out a rhythm that didn’t immediately exhaust her, using his body for leverage as she began to slide herself up and down his cock. 

“You’re so fucking tight, I can’t—” Eris reached for her nipples, teasing him in his fingers until Arina was whining. Release built all over again, too fast too uncontrolled. She wanted to drag them both out. She swore she’d come again, that she’d slow down to really enjoy him. Arina came with a soft scream, flattening against him to rub herself along the length of his body. Eris was wild beneath her, meeting her thrust for thrust as he grunted indiscriminate curses into her ear. 

Arina sunk her teeth hard into his shoulder, biting down the scream that rose in her body. That was, apparently, the magic button to set off Eris. He came like a bomb, flipping her over with his thighs so he could grab her by the throat in one hand, her wrists pinned above her head.

He was vicious, riding out both his and her orgasm with punishing thrusts. There was no finesse to it—it was as if he merely needed to drive himself as far into her as he could. 

Eris was covered in a slick sheen of sweat when he finally stopped, wild-eyed and burning. He released her throat, but didn’t pull himself out of her.

“Again,” he whispered, kissing just behind her ear. “Right now.”

“Right now,” she agreed, still tight around him. 

“You’re mine,” he added, as if there was ever any doubt.

Arina merely kissed him in response. 

ERIS:

Eris knew he was better served spending his night between Arina’s thighs. He knew better than to roam the streets at night when she was asleep, and consoled himself with the knowledge that she was in his bed, at least.  He’d had her two months as of that day–which Eris had celebrated by keeping her naked and on her back for the majority of the day.

And yet the lingering problem of Jack kept him up at night. He didn’t trust that the man wouldn’t get curious about the woman who’d thwarted him and come looking. That he, too, would become enamored with whatever charm Arina possessed that kept Eris so thoroughly enraptured. And when he realized Arina wanted Eris, what then? 

He needed to die. 

Eris couldn’t lay his feelings at Arina’s feet knowing there was another predator out there. And he was too chicken shit to admit he was the man in the mask, even if he was mostly sure she’d pieced that one together, too. 

She’d be back in her apartment tomorrow, and Eris had an overnight scheduled in the emergency room. He needed to know she was safe. That thought drove him back into the shitty part of the city, back down those unlit streets and the sidewalk where he could see the faint smear of blood from his kill two months before. 

He was quick, slipping into Jack’s apartment without being detected. He could hear Jack moving around the back, unaware death was coming for him. Anticipation warmed Eris, pushing him down the hall toward that door—where Jack was waiting.

“Dumb mother fucker,” Jack snarled, shoving open the door just as Eris unsheathed his knife. Eris lunged, knocking Jack to the floor while still gripping his knife. “Now I’m gonna fucking kill her—and I’m gonna let you watch.”

Eris snarled, messy and stupid. He wasn’t thinking straight, had forgotten how to best incapacitate someone who was struggling. He was too blinded by his emotions, which gave Jack an edge. Eris felt white hot pain lance through his side and realized he’d been stabbed. 

His own blade came up over Jack’s face, slicing over the man’s rather plain face before he rolled to the side. Both them were bleeding, staring at the other like wounded animals.

“You come near her,” Eris breathed, panting through his mask as he stepped back toward the door. “And I’ll have your head.”

“You’re gonna watch her die,” Jack breathed. The wound was deep—he’d need stitches. Eris would be working in the hospital tomorrow, which he imagined would be about the time Jack would need to hobble in for help.

Accidents happened every day. Who would miss a fucking lowlife loser? He could make it look like infection, like sepsis had worked its way into his bloodstream and then quietly kill him. A long, drawn out, painful death.

“We’ll see,” Eris replied before staggering out. Laughter followed him down the hall and out into the cool, near wintry air. He couldn’t go home to her—not bleeding like this. She was safe he told himself, loping down the sidewalk toward his car hidden a couple blocks away.

Stupid—he was so fucking stupid. He was too scared, too caught up in Arina that he wasn’t thinking logically. He’d gotten hurt. She’d see the wound the next time he undressed in front of her and then what? What would he tell her?

“I was jumped.”

He said it with a rueful smile when he made his way into his own emergency room, shirt lifted to show the clean cut. 

“You’re lucky,” Rhysand murmured, cocking his head to the side as he assessed Eris. Eris had left his mask, his gloves, and his vest in the car so it seemed like he’d merely been out, dressed in black. “A little further and they’d have nicked a kidney.”

Eris only sighed. Lucky. 

He didn’t feel fucking lucky with only a local anesthetic and Rhysand’s clumsy movements. Eris was a terrible patient, like all doctors, annoyed that Rhys didn’t do things how he would and at the orders to keep still—to wait, when Rhys was done, for worthless observation. He knew the signs of infection, and the signs of lightheadedness, too. 

“If a guy with a cut down his face comes in,” Eris began, drawing his thumb over his eye to illustrate where the wound would be, “can you call me?”

Rhysand chuckled. “Are you thinking about payback?”

He had no idea. “I’d like to see the look on his face when I walk in to treat him,” Eris replied with a savage grin. 

“That’s fucked,” Rhys replied with a smile. “And so fucking funny. Yeah, if I see a guy with a cut down his face, I’ll give you a call.”

And that was that. Eris was sent home with a little pain medication he didn’t bother filling and a sense of unease. He’d have to just tell her. Tell Arina how he’d fucked it all up, that he’d put her right back in danger.

He’d have to tell her who he was. There was no way around it anymore. No more waiting. Eris’s stomach churned the whole drive back to his apartment. He couldn’t stop himself from playing out every worst case scenario. Couldn’t stop imagining Arina demanding he let her go.

Breaking up with him.

How he’d have to tie her to the bed with those burning eyes once so filled with want, now filled with hate. Keep her there until she softened, until she understood that he loved her.

Eris groaned, head against the seat after parking in the garage. He was so fucking stupid.

He was in love with her.

Sighing, he made his way toward the elevator that would take him to the lobby. Unease pricked at the back of his neck. Eris swore he was being watched. He turned his head, but nothing was out of place. He was extra paranoid, or that was what he told himself. Eris moved quickly, stepping into the lobby as dread flooded through him.

If he were Jack, how much would he have tried to learn about another killer in the same city? Eris knew everything there was to know about Jack—divorced parents, shitty state school he flunked out of, car salesman to pay the bills. It hadn’t been hard to track down an address, grades, hell even a fucking credit score. 

And as he stepped into his apartment, he considered what Jack might have learned about him. A dead father and a mother living on the west coast. A brother in law while Eris was…a doctor. Someone who could step into an emergency room to be stitched up in a place that, even with connections, still liked to waste time.

Every light in the apartment was off. He couldn’t recall if he’d done that himself, though Arina hated it. She’d sleep in total darkness if he was there, but when he was gone he turned on a lamp. And he swore, as he opened the closed door to his bedroom, that he’d done that for her. 

Rage was building in his chest as he flipped on the light. The sheets to his bed were tangled around the end of the bed, half dragged to the floor. Blood dotted his sheets. Not enough to speak of death, but enough to make his hands shake.

There had been a fight. He could see it in the overturned chair, the lamp broken against a wall. Several pairs of his shoes were scattered about the floor and a picture frame on the wall hung askew. He could track her movement—she’d run to the bathroom and tried to lock herself in. Clever thing, he thought, pulling back the pillow Arina always slept on. The one she still kept her knife beneath.

Just in case.

It was missing. A burst of affection slammed through him. She wasn’t unarmed, then. Eris turned for his closet, where he kept an array of tools. A gun, which he loathed. He much preferred to be up close and personal when he killed. For whatever it said about him—and he wasn’t willing to examine it—-he liked seeing the light leave a person’s eyes. 

A note lay just at his feet. Jack's calling card, he knew as he picked it up with trembling fingers. Blood, smudged in the shape of a fingerprint covered the words.

Do blondes have more fun? 

Eris was going to kill him. He was going to fucking kill him. Flexing his fingers around the piece of metal, Eris turned back to look at the blood. Little drops—like she’d been struck unaware. Likely when she was sleeping, as if one blow was enough to knock a person out. Jack was stupid, and real life wasn’t like the movies. It would take a hell of a lot more to bring Arina down.

And still Eris counted them up quickly. He’d punish Jack for each one. Each little hurt. 

As he made his way back into the inky night, he reminded himself that she’d already bested him once. 

She would do it again.

ARINA:

All the things she’d ever learned about being kidnapped were lies. Tied up in the back of a trunk with a bruised, throbbing head, she’d managed to kick out the taillight with her barefoot. It cut up her skin in the process, and ultimately did nothing given no one stopped. No one called the police. Jack kept driving, slamming the breaks just often enough to slam her around.

She needed to focus. She had Eris’s knife tucked into the waistband of her shorts and would have to be careful to keep Jack from noticing. This, she understood, was only partly about her. She’d escaped and had the sense that he was angry about it, but beyond that, he was baiting Eris.

The fresh cut on his face, inflamed and swollen, told her why.

No matter what Jack said about Eris bleeding out in an alley, she knew if he was alive, he was on his way. That, for whatever flaws he had, he would come if only to keep someone else from touching her.

Though, she had been certain that night when she’d fallen asleep wrapped around him, that he was in love with her. 

And more certain that she was in love with him.

Stalking murderer and all. 

All she had to do was keep her wits about her. Jack wasn’t particularly smart, she reasoned. She’d escaped him once before. He thought little of her. This fight was clearly between him and Eris. So Arina settled and waited for the car to stop. Her hands were bound in front of her which she used to hold the knife still when he opened the lid and yanked her out. 

She limped over broken pavement, inhaling the rotting stench of fish. He’d taken her to the docks which didn’t bode well for her. If he threw her into the water bound, there was a decent chance she’d drown in the river. Not that he was thinking that far ahead—yet. 

“What happened to your face?” Arina asked as they made their way toward one of the corrugated metal buildings. She knew exactly what had happened, but wanted to get him talking. Wanted to focus him on his actual objective before he looked at her too closely and decided she’d be fun to play with in the interim. 

He exhaled noisily. Overhead, a street lamp flickered on and off, giving the area a truly sinister vibe. It was too cold to be out in the thin shirt and shorts she wore, and Arina was grateful she’d put anything on that night. She typically slept naked in Eris’s bed, especially after he fucked her into the mattress. She’d woken a little before Jack arrived to find him gone and had dressed so she could go to the bathroom. 

Jack pushed her through a swinging, heavy door, shoving so hard she nearly toppled to the ground.

“Sit,” he barked, nodding toward a beam in the middle of the space. There were no rooms, no enclosed spaces save for one bathroom that hardly looked sturdy. Rust ate at the concrete below her bruised, cut feet and a window on the side overlooking the river had been blown out by a storm. 

Storage containers and old tools lay scattered along a wobbly table, long abandoned by whoever had once worked here. Arina carefully folded herself to the ground, resting the back of her head against the steel support holding up a tin roof. 

Jack paced back and forth, his white sneaker splattered with blood. One side of his face was viciously swollen and, Arina supposed, had to hurt badly. Eris had cut him deeply. She wondered if it was better to continue to play stupid—to pretend this was all a continuation of those two bad dates.

“Please,” she began, her throat coated in sand. “I won’t tell anyone—”

“Shut up,” he barked, head turning toward the door. He pulled a gun from his loose fitting jeans, cagey and nervous. “You’ll do whatever I say if you want a clean death.”

Her hands out of sight, Arina carefully edged the hidden blade to her back. Jack wasn’t watching her, didn’t think anything of her. Heart pounding, Arina managed to get the knife into her tied hands without him realizing anything was amiss. She looked, she though, merely like she was struggling.

Would Eris be proud she wasn’t crying? That she was being rational, level-headed? 

Where was he? 

“Why are you doing this?” she whispered, stilling when he turned to look at her. Jack assessed her with new eyes before turning back to his watch. Arina didn’t let herself relax, never dropping her guard even as she began to saw at the roughly tied rope. 

“It’s not personal,” Jack finally ground out. “You were merely convenient.”

She had to swallow the bile that rose in her throat. No crying, no vomiting, she told herself. All of that would happen in the aftermath. 

“I told him to stay away,” Jack added. “Warned him what I’d do if he didn’t let it go. He can’t, though. He’s like me. It’s the thrill of the chase, of hunting. I knew he’d come looking. Dr. Vanserra.”

And there it was. Confirmation, just like she’d always known. 

While Jack continued his vigil, Arina managed to make headway on her bindings. 

“Why you?” he asked, glancing toward her for a moment.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied. “Eris is a doctor, he works long hours.”

“He’s a killer,” Jack said with a relish, baring his teeth. “So noble, Dr. Vanserra. He prefers the wealthy, the elite. Men,” Jack added with a wolfish grin. “I’m sure he styles himself as the protector of the innocent, but deep down he’s no better than me.”

With one final pull of the knife, Arina’s bindings came undone. She gripped them in her hand too keep him from hearing the thud of the rope. 

“How long,” Jack had turned his back to the door as he faced that dark bathroom, “before he learns what we all figure out?”

“What's that?” she whispered, wondering how she was going to escape. The knife in her hand felt damning, weighty. 

“You are nothing but a novelty. Something fun until you’re not—until the hunger is too overwhelming and your presence too inconvenient? Men like us don’t love. We only consume.”

The sound of boots echoed around them. Crunching glass, a skittering rock—a warning. Jack was grinning like Christmas had come early but Arina was shallow breathing.

A door somewhere out of sight kicked open and then there he was. In the mask, in all black, swinging a heavy, metal baseball bat and whistling a children’s tune. 

How had he found her? Scratch that, she decided. She didn’t care. She only cared he was here, radiating dangerous, violent energy. It also took all the attention from her. Jack stepped forward, his back fully to her though Arina sensed Eris was watching only her. 

“Aw, take off the mask, doctor,” Jack sneered. Arina had turned, pulling her hands apart carefully so Eris could see. He cocked his head toward the door, a silent order to get out.

She shook her head no.

I’m not leaving you. 

“Show her who you really are.”

Arina watched that gloved hand reach for the mask—and the other for the gun in his back pocket. He dropped the bat with a clatter to the floor, quick as a flash. Eris was fast, pulling the trigger, but Jack was prepared. He laughed as the bullet grazed him, firing his own shot that hit Eris in the thigh. Eris groaned, slamming to his knees while Arina screamed. 

“Still?!” Jack demanded, striding to Eris. “After everything, you still won’t speak? Explain her to me, doctor! Explain your fascination!”

Jack ripped off the mask, revealing a furious Eris burning with hatred. Panting from the pain, looking at her with nothing but steel. Waiting, she realized. 

Jack was going to kill Eris. It prompted Arina to her feet, to walk toward the pair of them even as Eris’s expression shifted, silently pleading for her to go. 

“I was going to make you watch her die,” Jack said, fingers threaded roughly in Eris’s hair. “But there’s poetry in dying knowing I’m going to fuck your girl. I’m going to fuck every hole right next to your—”

“Don’t,” Eris begged. Jack laughed before the sound choked in his lungs. Arina had driven her knife into his side, twisting enough that Jack groaned in pain. Ripping the blade from his flesh, she thought it was all so odd. Like sliding a knife into a cooked turkey, cutting through tendon and hitting bone.

Jack brought his gun to Arina’s chest and with an inhuman roar, Eris lunged himself at Jack. This was personal, not just to Eris, but to Arina, too. She followed them both to the floor, kneeling over Jack’s head while Eris kept him pinned.

“Tell me what to do,” she demanded, looking at Eris.”How do I end this.”

It was like Jack wasn’t there, as Eris reached for her hand.

“Right here,” he said, pressing the tip of Arina’s knife against Jack’s neck. “Push, sunshine. Perfect.”

The blade slid like butter through his skin, drawing a fountain of blood that sprayed her in the face. Jack’s eyes were wide as saucers and filled with fear, just as she must have once been. He’d enjoyed that—would have killed her, had she not escaped.

“How do you like it?” she asked him, watching the panic on his expression. 

“Arina,” Eris murmured, pulling her back. Neither of them moved, sitting on that filthy floor silently. Witnesses to Jack’s final moments, of his gasping, wet breaths and the rattling groan before silence filled the air. 

“I would have…” Eris tried, taking her face in his hands so she had to look at her. “I didn’t…This wasn’t how you were supposed to find out.”

“I’ve known,” she replied. “Since you tied me up.”

He licked his lips nervously. “Oh.”

“I don’t care,” she added, catching the relief that flooded through him. “I love you.”

He pulled her closer, wincing in obvious pain. They needed to leave before they were caught beside a dead body. “I am not a good man,” he told her, silencing her with a look when she opened her mouth to protest. “I’ll never be a good man. This is who I’ll always be. But, fuck, Arina, I swear I’ll be good to you. Good for you.”

“I know,” she agreed, pressing a bloody kiss to his mouth. “I know you will.”

“I do love you,” he added, threading his fingers through her hair to kiss her deeper. Chasing the taste of copper and salt on her lips, on his own desperation. Arina let him before helping him to his feet. There were practical concerns—how had she become this creature? While Eris limped to the sidewalk, Arina went back inside with a can of gasoline she’d pulled out of a nearby warehouse. Arina felt nothing at all, pouring gas over the pools of Eris’s blood, Jack’s body, and every other surface she could find. She merely wanted to hide their presence—she didn’t care about anything else. 

Eris was in the car when she returned, the flames of her former life illuminating her back. “Ready?” he murmured, wincing as he held his leg. He’d need to see someone about that injury.

Sitting in his driver seat, Arina leaned over and placed a kiss to his jaw.

“Ready.”

Eris:

One year later:

“My brother says he fell in love with Arina the moment he saw her.”

Lucien’s words lingered in Eris’s mind as he tugged at his tie. As far as speeches went, Lucien had done a perfect job hitting all the emotional notes Eris had always struggled with. Elain had been even better, bringing his new wife to weepy tears as she listened to the heartfelt words spoken to their family and friends. 

The same wife with her head on his shoulder, eyes closed after a long day of smiling and dancing and generally being on. That was her talent, he thought. Making him seem more charming by comparison, smoothing out his sharper edges, his tendencies to stare a little too long, to speak a little too dryly. If people liked him, that was Arina’s influence. 

Eris leaned over to kiss her forehead. “Did I wear you out?” he asked, catching the way those pink lips curved into a smile.

“Just preparing myself for what's coming.”

“A nap is what’s coming,” Eris joked, though there was truth to those words. He’d had a little too much to drink and was drained from all the time spent socializing. “And then some fucking….at three am.”

Arina reached for his thigh, rubbing high enough to excite him. “Three am?”

It was already one in the morning. 

“Maybe four,” he conceded, well aware he was likely to get stabbed if he woke her too early.

“And our flight?” she pressed as the car they were in slowed to a stop.

 Door opened just as Eris said, “There’s always time.”

“Maybe in the bathroom?”

As if Eris wouldn’t have the whole plane to himself. She didn’t understand that, was still getting used to spending his money however she liked. “Especially in the bathroom,” he said instead, sliding an arm around her waist. They were ushered up into the suite he’d booked for the night. He’d had different, filthier plans when he’d first seen it—of fucking her on every possible surface. Until she was bowlegged as she made her way through the airport. 

Now, standing in the spacious bedroom, Eris chugged a cold bottle of water while Arina flopped onto a white duvet scattered with rose petals.

It looked rather like blood. 

“Well, Mr Vanserra,” she began, holding up her hand to look at both the diamond cut ruby and matching band on her ring fingers. “Have you finally gotten what you wanted?”

He ran his thumb over the cool, matching metal on his own finger. “It worked out better than I imagined,” he admitted. That was true. Arina had never participated in another of his kills, though she also was more than willing to bandage up any scrapes or bruises he had—and to lovingly remove the bloodstains from his clothes. 

“Oh? How so?”

“I didn’t have to tie you to my bed until you fell in love with both me and my cock,” he said, prowling toward her. Arina shot up, still in that ivory gown he was so fond of, and dragged him to the bed. She was giggling as he fell beside her, pulling him close until his head was pillowed against her breasts. Little beads bit into his cheek, though he didn’t care. Eris buried his nose in her skin, drinking in the soft smell of her. 

“You’re a silly man, Eris Vanserra.”

“Only for you,” he murmured, lacing his fingers through her own before pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. 

“I don’t care about anyone else,” she admitted.

Eris grinned. “As you shouldn’t. I belong wholly to you.”

[elm-writes-stories]

Cuphead: Isle of Shadows (Rewrite)

*Hey everyone, I'm back with another episode for the rewrite of Cuphead: Isle of Shadows. This is published on August 7, 2023. If you guys like this episode, don't be afraid to heart, reblog, and comment! That would be greatly appreciated. Warning: blood, violence, gore, and slight cursing. Enjoy!*

Episode Nine: Take A Gamble

On the east side of Inkwell Isle City, Bowlboy lingered through the abandoned side.

He had been on the run from the Night Stalkers since he got back from injecting Mugman with…whatever that stuff was. He never wanted to hurt either Mugman or Cuphead, but he wanted to be a part of them…doing reckless things with them. Of course, he wasn’t liked by the brothers.

Bowlboy tried to find a place to hide, but he soon realized that there was no place to hide. As he was walking through the abandoned side of the city, he felt a paper under his feet. He picked it up and dusted the soot off, squinting to read the headlines and the picture of the red cat turning the wheel.

“Tremaine Outbreak! Are the red cats responsible for it?”

Bowlboy tilted his head in confusion. He heard someone lurking in the shadows behind him as he whirled around. He scanned his surroundings until he saw a hooded figure running towards him.

Bowlboy screamed and ran away from the figure deeper into the east side of the city. The hooded figure chased after him.

“Wait!”

Bowlboy didn’t listen as he tripped on the metal pipe and collapsed on the cracked cement. He groaned in pain and noticed the hooded figure approaching him.

“Don’t kill me, please!” Bowlboy cried innocently. “I don’t want to die!”

“I ain’t gonna kill ya,” the hooded figure said while raising his white gloves. “I just need answers.”

“A-Answers? For what? Who are you?” Bowlboy questioned fearfully.

The hooded figure took off his hood to reveal King Dice under the hood. Before Bowlboy could gasp in happiness, King Dice shushed him.

“Look, I’m going against the boss by doing this. But this was for his best interest. I need answers from you,” Dice said. “Did Hunter really tell you to go after Mugman?”

Bowlboy nodded his head.

“Are you sure he told you that?”

“Yeah, I have it right here,” Bowlboy said while pulling out a tape-recorder from behind him and pressing play.

“Put this inside of Mugman. Not Cuphead. Mugman.”

Dice blinked in confusion. “I knew we weren’t talking about the same person the other day. Hunter has been acting strange lately. I tried telling the boss…but he ain’t listenin’ to me. He liked Hunter way too much to the point where Hunter became Devil’s number one.”

Bowlboy blinked in confusion. “Why do you care to be the Devil’s number one?”

Dice shifted his glance at the small bowl. “Because—Because—ugh, nevermind. It’s cheesy.”

“Aww, it can’t be that bad of a reasoning, right?” Bowlboy questioned.

“It’s none of your concern—” They heard a creak under them. Before they could move, the silver platform under them gave way and both Bowlboy and Dice fell into the hole underneath them with screams.

They couldn’t see temporarily while they tumbled down the slope and into the caverns until they finally landed onto the ground.

Dice groaned in pain and blinked his eyes open. “Ugh, w-what just happened. Where are we?”

Bowlboy shook his head and looked around. “Huh, I didn’t think there were caverns underneath the city.”

Dice looked around to notice glowing mushrooms around them that lit up their path straight-forward. “Caverns, huh? Strange…I wonder why no one knew about the caverns here.”

Bowlboy shrugged his shoulders.

Dice and Bowlboy moved forward through the caverns, their eyes scanning their surroundings.

“Maybe the way out of this place is that way,” Dice determined, pointing at the door ahead of them.

Dice opened the heavy door and pushed his way through, his eyes widened when he found out that they entered a bedroom of some sorts. The lights were on everywhere with pictures and posters all over the walls.

“Well, someone is a bit disorganized,” Dice said with a judgmental gaze around the room. “I mean, it looks filthy.”

Bowlboy looked over at the posters of dancing red cats dressed like demons and words that scared him to his core. “Someone has been making posters about the red cats.”

Dice glanced at the posters with confusion written on his face. “Wait a minute, what’s going on there?”

“There’s always been this hate against red cats for so long,” Bowlboy recalled.

“But why?” Dice questioned. “Like why just the red cats specifically? They could’ve made it more broad and said that all cats are from the Devil, but why the red cats?”

Dice found newspaper clippings and squinted to read it through the other papers.

“Red cats are responsible for the Tremaine outbreak?”

“What?” Dice questioned with a laugh. “Okay. Okay, what on earth is going on here?”

Dice looked at the other paper clipping with some sort of a graph with faded colors. He realized the paper had statistics number to show which species of cats to be more aggressive. Dice looked and saw that the red cats tend to be more aggressive than the rest of the cats. Hunter’s name was on the statistic.

“Since when did Hunter become a scientist?” Dice questioned with a brow raised. He looked at the date and blinked in surprise. “Wait, this was taken before the Tremaine outbreak fifteen years ago.”

“Do you think Hunter had been planning something that had to do with the red cats?”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it one bit,” Dice responded. “He already had you inject Mugman with Tremaine…but the question is…why? Why Mugman? Was it to get to Cuphead? Was it because of something completely different? He’s planning something. I don’t know what it is. But…he’s planning something.”

“Look!” Bowlboy picked up the strange device with darkened goggles and weird antennas forming out of silver cap where the goggles were attached.

Dice grabbed the device and put it on to look through the dark goggles. What he didn’t expect was the orange silhouettes that showed everyone infected with Tremaine. He took it off for a moment.

“What the—?” Dice couldn’t even get a sentence out. He found brown gloves with weird buttons on each hand and wires. He put those on out of curiosity and put the helmet back on to look through the goggles.

Dice had no idea what he was doing when he pushed a button, but when he pushed a button on his right hand, he heard someone collided against the wall. Dice tried to find who was it by pushing another button on his other hand to browse who made the sound. He gasped once he saw an orange silhouette of Beppi, weeping in the corner.

“Make it stop. Make it stop,” Beppi groaned in pain.

Dice felt his heart tug for a moment. He decided to test out whatever it was and pushed the same button on his right hand, causing Beppi to smashed his shoulder against the wall.

“STOP! PLEASE!!” Beppi cried while grabbing his head.

Dice blinked in confusion and noticed the option list down below at the corner. He managed to get there with some struggle and noticed one of the options were to go into Beppi’s head. Dice clicked on that with the button on his left hand and it took him into Beppi’s mind. Through the goggles, Dice could see Beppi being laughed at as a child while the little clown covered his ears.

“Make it stop. Make it stop!” the kid version of Beppi cried.

Too freaked out to continue, Dice shoved the helmet and the gloves off, breathing heavily from looking into someone’s mind.

“What is that thing?” Dice uttered. “D-Does it control people with Tremaine? Does it make their pain worse until they reached to their breaking point? What is going on here?”

Bowlboy found a VHS tape and looked to see television in front of them. “Hey, what’s that?”

Dice turned to see a black screen at the corner of the room. “Wait…what is that?”

Bowlboy found a VHS tape player and inserted the tape in. The television flickered on and it showed a black and white film reel.

“What the heck?” Dice uttered and watched the film reel that showed the black and white pictures.

~.~

Jack couldn’t believed he got the job at the infamous Mason Corporations.

Out of all of the jobs Jack applied for, only one shady corporation gave him the job. It wasn’t what he wanted, but it’ll pay the bills and take care of both his wife and his child. It offered more money than what he could imagine, so why not? Despite his small argument with Porkrind about why working at Mason Corporations seemed like a bad idea, Jack decided to take the opportunity.

Jack worked there as a scientist next to Murray, the cup with a small blue nose. The red cat and the cup scientists were excited to be each other’s coworkers until they started to work there.

There was a new chemical that they were supposed to enhance, which was called Tremaine. Hunter, their boss, told them that Tremaine was supposed to enhance military soldiers to fight, but that couldn’t be further from the truth when running experiments. Their first test subject was a small rat picked up from the sewers.

Jack injected Tremaine into the rat, thinking it would strengthen it or make it more mortal like everyone else. However Jack watched intensely as he could see red irises and yellow eyes in the rat. The rat screeched in pain and rattled in his cage.

Both Murray and Jack witnessed this and looked to see that the chemical improves. So, they went to talk to Hunter about it.

“Mr. Manson,” Jack began the conversation.

Hunter turned to look at Jack.

“We’re sorry to bother you, sir, but I don’t think this Tremaine you speak of is working,” Jack replied. “It doesn’t strengthen the test subject.”

“It causes the test subject to suffer within it, letting it become a monster,” Murray added.

Hunter cornered a smirk. “It’s supposed to do that.”

Murray and Jack looked at each other in confusion and then back at Hunter.

“Now, let’s move up a little, shall we? Let’s say…a person,” Hunter replied.

Murray and Jack blinked and nodded their heads obediently.

“Yes sir,” they both said.

Hunter gave them a nod and moved on to focus on his other projects.

“This isn’t what we signed up for,” Murray whispered to Jack.

“Quiet, Mr. Manson could hear you,” Jack warned his friend.

“We didn’t sign up to make people suffer,” Murray stated.

“M-Maybe Tremaine won’t have terrible effects on people.”

“Jack, did you not see what it did to that rat? Who knows what Tremaine is going to do to a person?” Murray pointed out to the red feline.

Jack bit his lips.

“Look, I know you got family to feed. So do I. But I don’t think doing this is a good idea for a job,” Murray replied. “And something’s up with that Manson guy. I don’t think…I don’t think he’s normal.”

“You realize that they got recordings everywhere, right?”

“I’m just sayin’.”

Jack sighed deeply. “We need to find out why Tremaine causes other people to suffer. What are the ingredients in it? Why does it cause people to suffer? We need to know.”

“I’m with you till the end,” Murray replied with determination. “As much as I don’t think this is a good idea to stay here to find out sensitive information, I’ll stick by ya.”

“What about you? It might be risky and it might get you killed—”

“I ain’t too worried about it,” Murray responded with a mischievous smile. “Let’s do it.”

For months working for Mason Corporations, Jack and Murray tried to find sensitive files in a secret file room they weren’t allowed to go in discreetly while working on the chemical. One day, they finally found a file that had the ingredients to Tremaine.

“Here we go,” Jack said while taking a deep breath. He opened the file and looked through the history of its usage. His eyes widened in shock and fear.

“What’s wrong?” Murray said while looking into the file. He scanned through it. “Ash…? Brimstone…? Demon’s blood…?” He blinked in confusion. “Wait, where does Hunter get those ingredients?”

“There’s only one place I know where he could get that stuff,” Jack uttered in pure disbelief. “I guess his ‘special’ scientists were sent down to the Underworld to collect the ingredients.”

“They would’ve been blown up by the Devil by now if that’s the case. No…Hunter must have brought something from the Underworld,” Murray responded. “But how?”

Unbeknownst to them, Hunter saw them looking through the file involving the ingredients of Tremaine. The tiger growled lowly and disappeared into the shadows.

Since Jack and Murray knew about the ingredients of Tremaine, they were trying to find a way to have the chemical not cause suffering among the test subjects. They tweaked the ingredients by excluding demon’s blood, ash, and brimstone and including the juice from an apple, water, and drops of human tears.

Murray would sometimes bring his baby son, Mugman, to work when no one else could watch him while his wife, Lily Rose, took his other son, Cuphead to her job. Baby Mugman would watch his father mixing the ingredients together in fascination, who was noticed by Hunter watching from outside of Murray and Jack’s lab.

Murray noticed Hunter eying on his baby and kept his son close with a small withering glare at Hunter. Since he noticed Hunter watching Mugman, Murray had an old friend who recently retired from the military that he could call and have him watch baby Mugman and baby Cuphead until either Lily or Murray could pick up their kids first.

Jack never took his daughter, Cassidy, to work mostly because it’s risky.

Other than through occasional worries of being spotted by Hunter and his ruthless employees and getting small amount of glares from people because of his species, Jack had been getting great pay to take care of Shayna and Cassidy for a couple of months until one day.

It was the first of the month of September when Jack came to work and stumbled into a room full of giant tubes of the original Tremaine. He witnessed the Tremaine being drained into the water pipelines on the east side of Inkwell Isle City.

Jack gasped in horror and hurried to find a way to stop Tremaine from getting drained further. He found the wheel valve turned and rushed towards to turn it back. A sudden flash interfered with his eyes. Temporarily blinded by the sudden flash, he kept turning the wheel, eventually saving little Tremaine left in the big tubes. However, Jack knew he was too late to save anyone at the east side of the city. 

~.~

The east side water pipelines had Tremaine flowing within, blending into the water. Most citizens drank the water from the sink without knowing it. Objects, humans, and animals alike turned feral and tore each others flesh like wild animals.

The blood marked the streets on the east side of the city. The bee police force were there, but has been torn to shreds when encountering them. It had gotten bloody on the east side of the city with the blood, intestines, hearts, lungs, and guts scattered across the cold black roads that Rumor Honeybottoms, the chief of the police force, stepped in with extra help in the form of the red genie, the three-headed dragon, the mad scientist on his robot, the huge carnivorous flower, and the red lady shape-shifting into a blimp.

The flower’s face contorted into a machine gun and fired bullets in the forms of seeds, planted onto the ground and grew weeds and plant-eaters to hold the attackers back.

The mother and her blonde child cowered back from the child’s father, his irises red and his eyeballs yellow.

“Papa, please! Don’t kill us!” The blonde-haired child cried. Before her father could kill both her and her mother, the golden arrow flew by her father and one of the small blue stars smacked him in the face. Soon, the child and her mother lifted onto the back of the cloudy centaur, firing arrows with the golden bow.

The centaur took them to someplace safe and placed them on the ground, shape-shifting into the red-dressed lady. The little girl looked up at her with adoring eyes.

“What’s your name, sweetie?” the lady asked with a soft smile.

“S-Sally,” the child replied.

“Hilda,” Hilda introduced herself with a bright smile.

“GET OFF!!!”

Hilda turned to the familiar voice belonging to the orange-petaled flower fighting against the ones infected with Tremaine.

Hilda looked at young Sally. “Get you and your mother safe. Hurry!”

Hilda flew up to the sky and grabbed the fluff of clouds to shape-shift into a bull with gold horns. She managed to ram into the infected and get them off of the flower.

“You know I can handle them, right?” The flower stated.

“Really? The famous Cagney Carnation seems to be in distress to me,” Hilda teased while transforming back to her normal self.

Cagney, the flower, slammed his hand down into the ground and stabbed the incoming infected person charging at Hilda with a deadpan stare at her. He smirked when Hilda seemed shock at the fact that he got the person without looking.

“And Ms. Hilda Berg needs to pay attention to her surroundings so that she doesn’t get herself killed,” Cagney teased back.

“Awww, always lookin’ out for me, eh, Cagney?” Hilda flirted with a blush.

“You know it,” Cagney flirted back with a blush on his face.

The red genie appeared in between them with a smirk. “As much as I love to listen to you two flirt, we got a much bigger problem. We need to know what’s causing the people to insane!”

The three-headed dragon landed and blew fire at those infected with Tremaine, protecting a single frog mother protecting two little frog boys.

The mad scientist controlling the robot shot laser yellow beams at the people attacking a young clown and a young girl with a candy cane in her mouth.

The young pirate was fighting the ones infected near the port on the shore. The young sea creature with purple hair of a dead octopus noticed the young pirate boy. With a gasp in shock, her eyes turned red and shot red beams towards the pirate boy. The pirate boy dodged it and watched the infectees turned to stone. Once he looked back, he saw the sea creature gasping at her being noticed and dove back into the water. He hurried over and saw her swimming away.

“Wow…” the pirate boy muttered in admiration.

The dark blue bird with the house on him swooped in and used his wing to get the remaining individuals who were not infected with Tremaine to get on the roof of his birdhouse such as a young brown rat, a young pirate, three young vegetables, and a young slime ball. He flew away with them to get to safety away from the dangerous side of the city.

Rumor Honeybottoms flew in and used her wand to lift up the concrete to find something flowing in the water system. “It’s coming from the water system! We need it to redirect it away from the city!”

The remaining bee cops nodded their heads and hurried to redirect the water into the sewers so that it would never reach to the city again.

The water that had Tremaine inside of it went down the drain, leaving the special force breathing heavily in exhaustion from fighting those infected with Tremaine.

Rumor saw there were more of those infected with Tremaine as she raised the walls with her wand, trapping the infectees within so that they wouldn’t go after anymore citizens.

Unbeknownst to them, Hunter had been watching them all from the sidelines with a small smirk at them all.

~.~

It was only two days after the incident that the newspapers were written frantically all over the city.

“Tremaine released into the east side of the city!”

“Mason Corporations behind the Tremaine incident?”

“Who’s the real villain behind the Tremaine incident?”

Jack hoped for those answers to the questions just as much as the press.

Murray was dumbfounded after the incident, his fear suppressed by trying not to worry too much about it.

It was on the day that Hunter was about to speak up. Was Hunter behind this? Why would Hunter do this? Was this planned the entire time?

Hunter had microphones against his face while journalists were asking questions left and right. Jack and Murray were on stage behind Hunter and listened. All of them didn’t seem that hard to answer and rather…easy to explain…but there was two questions he would never forget was asked during the interview.

“Is the situation under control? Who should we blame?”

“This situation is under control,” Hunter said. “This chemical was released by a former employee of mine. His name was Jack Cat. He and his species caused this Tremaine outbreak.”

Jack widened his eyes at this shocking answer.

“Jack turned the wheel to release the chemicals into the water system and we had to shut it down before it was too late. I’ve studied his species for years…I’ve concluded that they can be usually be aggressive, but I would never have thought that the red cats could go this far,” Hunter stated.

The rising anger gripped Jack’s heart. The urge to speak and defend himself took over and Jack didn’t hesitate to follow that urge.

“You know that’s not true!” Jack shouted at Hunter with a growl.

Murray saw his friend charging towards Hunter and held Jack back. “Jack, no, you’re only going to prove his statements—”

“I’ve been framed!” Jack growled at Hunter, tears streaming down his cheeks. “You’ve just put my species in danger. You’ve just put my family in danger and you know it, don’t you?”

Murray was able to hold his friend back and tried to calm Jack down. “Jack, take it easy. You’re only going to make yourself look worse.”

Jack looked to see the journalists winced back in fear, afraid that he will attack either Hunter or any of them. The red feline softened his gaze and looked up at Hunter. Then he glanced back at the press.

“Please…I’m innocent,” Jack begged the press before being manhandled by the cops.

“Hey, let him go!” Murray shouted at the cops. One of the cops shoved Murray back against the wall, breaking off his handle for his cup head.

Murray groaned in pain while watching his friend being dragged off stage by the cops.

“Please, I’ve been framed! You gotta believe me!” Jack cried.

Murray watched in horror, tears edging out of his eyes.

~.~

Fifteen Years Later:

The television flickered off, revealing Jack’s past with Murray and Hunter to both King Dice and Bowlboy in the strange room.

“Odd…” Dice uttered while tilting his head.

“Poor Jack,” Bowlboy replied in pity.

Dice looked around the room some more to find answers to questions. He found another VHS tape. “Hey, what do you think is in this one?”

Bowlboy shrugged his shoulders and pulled the VHS tape out of the VHS tape player. Dice inserted a different VHS tape and saw something completely shocking.

It was a camera to the jail cell with this supposed Jack Cat sitting inside of it. Jack had been quiet…too quiet. Dice and Bowlboy watched someone walking towards the cell…was that this Murray guy? They watched Murray lock picked the jail cell and leading Jack out of his cell.

Dice tilted his head in confusion when the television flickered to another camera to see Jack and Murray in some sort of a secret lab, working on a cure for Tremaine. Both Bowlboy and Dice looked at each other.

“This is even more odd,” Dice responded.

“There are so many secrets here,” Bowlboy pointed out.

Dice took a glance back at those goggles and the gloves. He put them back on and decided to test something. He toggled through individuals already infected with Tremaine. Beppi was definitely one of them along with the…wait…Baroness Von Bon Bon? How in the world did they get the baroness out of Sugarland? She seemed to be withering and decaying once she left Sugarland.

Dice toggled again to find Mugman. What was about Mugman that was so important to Hunter? Dice was about to find out. He pressed the button to get into the memory and found memories of when Mugman and Cuphead were toddlers and were always together. Before Dice could dig further, he heard someone walking to the room.

Dice took the goggles and the gloves off, setting them down on the table. Bowlboy switched the television off and hid in the shadows as King Dice shut off the lights in the room.

“Youse got a lot of nerve kidnapping us!” Ribby’s voice growled.

“Yeah!” Croaks’ voice agreed.

Dice gasped in recognition. Ribby and Croaks? The owners of the Fly Trap? Quickly, the die put on his hood over his head, watching three assassins pushed both Ribby and Croaks through the room.

One of the assassins noticed Dice under the hood. “Help us, would ya? These two are getting hard to handle.”

“Hey!” Ribby shouted in offense. “We was doing fine until you showed up!”

“We’ll pound ya if ya don’t let us go!” Croaks snarled.

Dice joined to “help”, but he wasn’t sure where they were taking the frogs. The assassins took them through another door that Dice didn’t notice before. Once they opened the door, they pushed the frogs through the door while King Dice followed. Dice looked behind him to see Bowlboy sneakily trailing from behind him.

Dice followed the assassins into the underground prison where the people he saw on the video during the Tremaine Incident were all there.

Cagney pounded against the glass that seemed unbreakable. “Hey! What are you going to do to us?!”

Dice couldn’t answer that since he didn’t know himself. He looked ahead to find more the red genie looking onward solemnly. The mad scientist was tinkering his robot inside of his glass cell while the small brown rat was tinkering his vehicle in the cell next to the mad scientist.

The three headed dragon tried to blow fire at the glass to no avail surprisingly. When that failed, the three-headed dragon frowned and cradled their young baby in the cell with them.

Dice could see Hilda sobbing from the corner of the cell. When he looked to his left, he could see the blue slime big ball punching at the glass with his red boxer gloves. The Root Pack containing of Ollie, Chauncey, and Sal Spudder crying in the cell from Ollie’s stench. Rumor Honeybottoms didn’t have her wand and her arms were crossed in the cell, glaring at the assassins holding Ribby and Croaks hostage.

Sally, the blonde woman who was the little girl in the video, was dead in her cell…or was she dead? When Dice approached Sally’s cell to see if she was really dead, Sally perked her head up, her eyes red and her pupils small. She crawled over to the glass and clawed on it, scaring Dice away from the glass with a gasp. Once he left her and trailed behind the assassins, Sally blinked and her eyes returned to normal. She wiped the drool off of her mouth with a cocky grin.

Dice looked to see the bird with the house on his body, taking care of the little bird crying in the cell. Then he approached Beppi and the Baroness, acting irrationally with Tremaine in their veins. They’ve succumbed to their demonic selves, which scared Dice to think about for some reason.

Soon the assassins shoved the frogs into their own cells.

“HEY!” Ribby barked at the assassins before the glass closed behind the brothers. “Get us out of here!”

Dice blinked in horror and found the name-plates above the cells with each other of their names. The last two cells were across from one another, both were empty. Dice looked at one of the empty cell in horror…it…it had his name on it. Then Dice looked across at the other empty cell and widened his eyes in more shock.

“The Devil.”

“What’s wrong?” one of the assassins asked Dice, unaware that it was the King Dice noticing this.

Dice cleared his throat. “Um…why are we capturing King Dice and the Devil? Aren’t they…working with us?”

“We thought the boss explained to you,” the other assassin stated. “To all of us. Were you not listening?”

“No…absolutely not,” Dice responded.

“King Dice is great with magic and his control of his cards. The Devil is the ruler of the Underworld. Once Tremaine inside all of them, the boss will have complete control of everyone, even the Devil. Heck, even the world once he rules Hell.”

Dice widened his eyes in fear. Hunter wants to rule Hell? And raise hell in the world? “Wait, why does he want to be the New Devil?”

“He thinks he could do better than the original Devil. Why else do you think?”

Dice blinked in shock and confusion. “So the deal…he’s going to—”

“Don’t read too much into it. Just do as the boss says,” the assassin ordered while the assassins were walking out.

“O-Okay…well, I’ll just patrol here,” Dice replied, watching the other assassins exit out.

“Uh…look, I ain’t a fan of the Devil, but that is insanity on the whole new level!” Cagney pointed out with a growl. “Does he really think Devil is going to hand him over his throne just like that?! He’s the freaking Devil! Does he really think Devil is going to roll over and let him take over Hell and dominate the world?!”

Captain Brineybeard, who was in the cell next to the empty one belonging to King Dice, blinked in shock. “Wait, do ye reckon that Hunter might be trying t’ gain powers from the Davy Jones?”

“Davy Jones? Who’s that?” Cagney questioned from the other side of the prison.

“It’s what pirates call the Devil,” the genie, with the name Djimmi the Great plastered on the sign above his cell, explained. “The thing that Hunter is not seeing is that Devil is immortal like some of us here. Except the Devil has roamed this world way before any mortal and immortal beings exist along with the Most High. He cannot be controlled no matter how hard you try.”

“The Devil isn’t stupid,” Hilda joined the conversation. “Should we warn King Dice and the Devil?”

“Hey, I’m not worried about the Devil,” Cagney responded. “Literally, I can’t wait to see Hunter burn to crisp when he attempts to take over Hell.”

“Well, we can’t let anyone know of Hunter’s plan…wait a minute,” Rumor looked at Dice under the hood. “Usually, assassins patrolling us would tell us to shut up…”

“Because I’m not one of them,” Dice said while taking off his hood to reveal himself to the prisoners.

The prisoners gasped in shock.

“The King Dice,” Sally gasped in shock.

“Eh, we don’t have to worry about warning him now,” Cagney responded with a shrug.

“What are you doing here? Do you even know where we are?” Djimmi interrogated.

“Uh…I’m just as confused as you are,” Dice responded. “I think we’re underground on the east side of the city I think.”

All the prisoners gasped in fear.

“The east side? Where Tremaine happened all those years ago?” Dr. Kahl, the mad scientist approaching the glass, uttered.

“We was livin’ there when we was tadpoles!” Croaks gasped.

“We were livin’ peacefully there!” Sal stated.

“I ‘ave met Cala Maria thar when I was a young lad!” Brineybeard pointed out.

“I deffelobed ein loffe of machinery zere!” Werner Werman, the rat in the cell, stated.

“I have a safe home there,” Goopy Le Grande, the blue slime ball, responded.

“I lost my father there,” Sally uttered sadly.

“Wait, wait, we’ve quarantined this place,” Cagney pointed out.

“It’s the place anyone least expects,” Rumor uttered in horror. “What have we done?”

Djimmi glanced at King Dice. “Can you get us out? Can you help us?”

“Look, man, I-I don’t know—”

“Dice…”

Dice turned to see Bowlboy behind him.

“There’s someone on the other side of that door,” Bowlboy said while pointing at the fortified door.

Dice looked at the door and at the prisoners. “Who’s at the other side of the door?”

“We don’t know,” Djimmi responded solemnly. “It was a man who Hunter tortured so often, but we never knew his name.”

“That’s horrible,” Ribby uttered.

“I vouldn’t vant to pe zat guy,” Werner stated.

Dice turned back to the door and took a deep breath. “Here goes nothin’ then.” He walked up beside Bowlboy, facing the door. He could hear someone sobbing from the other side.

Dice turned the knob on the door and found out the door was locked. “Dang it. How are we going to get in without a key—?”

Bowlboy took out they key to the door from his pocket.

“I’m not gonna even ask how you even got the key.”

Bowlboy smirked at Dice. The small bowl unlocked the door with the key and opened it. 

~.~

The door opened with a creak and Dice peeked into the room. In the dark room, the light shined from the door and up towards the man, who stopped sobbing. His shoulders tightened and looked away from them.

“I’ve already answered everything for you,” he said, sniffling. “You’ve killed my wife…my kids…my best friend. What more do you want from me?”

“Whoa, hey, easy there, we don’t want anything from ya,” Dice reassured the cup stranger.

The cup stranger couldn’t look back, but Dice could tell that he was trying.

“The ingredients to the cure? I’m tellin’ ya, I don’t remember. Your boss took half of my memory away,” the stranger growled. “You can beat it out of me all you want…but I don’t remember.”

“Easy there, we’re only trying to help—”

The stranger snorted. “Sure, you’re only trying to help. I guess you’re new to this whole Night Stalkers cult.”

“What? No! I’m not a part of them at all!” Dice responded while taking off the black robe and dropped by the cup stranger’s feet. “See? I’m only using that as a disguise.”

The cup stranger gasped and struggled in his chains. “Who are you then?”

“I’m sure you’ve heard of me. I’m King Dice,” Dice replied with a smile.

The cup stranger didn’t respond.

“You know…from Roll the Dice…”

The cup stranger still didn’t respond.

“He must be living under a rock,” Bowlboy assumed.

Dice sighed. “Nevermind. Let’s get you outta here.”

Bowlboy got out his lock picks and picked the locks around the stranger’s ankles and wrists. Once that was done, the stranger immediately sprang up to his feet and grabbed Dice by the purple coat, slamming him against the wall. Dice was face-to-face with the stranger, noticing that the stranger only miss one eye and he was missing a handle.

“Whoa! What the—?! Hey!” Dice yelled. “I’m trying to help you!”

“How do I know you’re not lying to me about being part of the cult?” the stranger growled.

“He’s not!” Bowlboy testified for Dice.

“If I was a part of the cult, you wouldn’t be out right now,” Dice pointed out to the stranger.

“Really now?” the cup stranger growled. “Maybe you’ve developed this tactic to get me to trust you so easily. You might stab me in the back.”

“What you’re saying is making no sense,” Dice said with a groan. “Why would I let you out only to put you back?”

“I don’t know. You tell me, Mr. King Dice,” the stranger snarled. “Let’s see what your true intentions are.”

“W-What?” Dice watched the stranger’s eye turned violet. “Hey, what are you—?”

It was sudden that his vision became violet and he could no longer talk.

“Kingsley! Kingsley!!!”

Dice’s vision was cleared and he groaned in pain. He was back to being a kid in an isolated cabin. He was dressed in disgusting rags and was bruised. Dice saw a silhouette of his father, causing him to widened his eyes in horror.

“Kingsley Dice, you better get your butt here right now! Daddy needs to get a look at ya!”

Dice blinked while breathing heavily, frozen in terror until his next memory flash into the lively casino. Dice looked and saw the Devil himself trying to get his father’s soul. However, his father saw him and grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Take my son’s soul instead. He’ll be a good boy to you.”

The Devil quirked a brow. “You’re willing to trade your son’s soul for your own?”

“Yes!”

The Devil’s lips formed into a smirk. “Well, well, I guess mortals never change.”

In a snap of the finger, Dice could feel the chains tying him to the Underworld in both his wrists and his soul.

He watched his father walking away out of the casino.

“Don’t worry, young one,” Devil reassured Dice while walking away. “I’m sure your dear ole daddy will die in the worse way possible.”

Dice shed tears.

Make it stop! Make it stop!

Dice blinked and now he was an adult like he was before. He realized he had his own show back. Before he could put on a grand smile in front of faceless audience, he looked down and saw Cuphead hugging his leg. Then he looked ahead and saw Mugman sitting on the seat, watching both him and Cuphead. It was then the violet glow around faded away in an instant.

Dice blinked and gasped as if he had been suffocating for so long. The cup stranger’s eye no longer glowed violet. He let go of the die, who stumbled by the doorway, breathing heavily as if he hadn’t breathed in a while. He looked up at the stranger in horror.

“What the hell did you do to me?!” Dice questioned breathlessly.

Bowlboy looked over at Dice in concern and then looked back at the stranger, who seemed to be just as shocked as Dice was.

“You saw my boys?” the cup stranger uttered, a tear rolling out of his eye.

“Y-Your boys?! What did you do to me?!” Dice shouted at the stranger.

The stranger looked down at Bowlboy, who tilted his head in confusion. He came over to Bowlboy and grabbed the bowl’s wrist gently. Automatically, Bowlboy’s eyes turned violet, which caused Dice to wince back. Surprisingly…it was a quick process and Bowlboy’s eyes turned back to normal, who was breathing heavily and shivering.

“You both saw my boys!” the stranger gasped in shock.

“Cuphead and Mugman?” Bowlboy questioned.

“That’s what Elder Kettle calls them,” the stranger said with a relieved smile and tears streaming down his cheek. “M-My boys are alive. My boys are alive.”

Dice watched the stranger breaking down crying in happiness, confused until it clicked. “Wait a minute…are you…the father of Cuphead and Mugman?”

The stranger looked up, smiling through the tears. “Uh-huh. I can’t believe my boys were alive.”

Dice looked closely at the cup stranger and he could finally recognized him from seeing him on the television. “Wait…Murray?”

Murray, the cup stranger, got up on his feet and wiped the tears. “It’s been a while since I’ve heard that name.”

Dice widened his eyes in shock.

“I-I need to see my boys. I need to know where they are!” Murray urged and hurried out of the room.

“Murray, wait! There’s something going on with Mugman—” Before Dice could finish his sentence, they heard footsteps coming towards the underground prison. Right before the prisoners could warn them to hide, the door busted through and revealed it to be Hunter and ten more hooded assassins.

Murray drew his brows at Hunter with his fists clenched.

“You know, Dice, I never thought you were going to stoop this low. Apparently, this is a new low for you,” Hunter growled.

Dice looked at the lever next to him and then back at Hunter. “You were going to betray the Boss, are you?!”

“Knock him out! Get him to his cell!” Hunter ordered his men. He looked at Murray. “You and I have unfinished business to discuss.”

Murray clenched his teeth and growled.

Dice placed his hand on the lever and pulled it, freeing all the prisoners from their cells.

~.~

Immediately, Cagney started to attack the hooded assassins with the help of Hilda and Goopy.

The three headed dragon, Grim Matchstick, blew fire at the ceiling above them as soon as the dragon got out of the cell. The ceiling collapsed, crushing the two empty cells that had both Dice’s and Devil’s names engraved on it. Murray was blinded by the sunlight and hid in the shadow. The bird, Wally Warbles, used his wing to get everyone on board. Werner, Dr. Kahl, Dr. Kahl’s robot, and Wally’s son got on Wally Warbles. Sally, The Root Pack, and Goopy got on Grim’s back. Beppi and Baroness Von Bon Bon tore into the assassins, scurrying away to find a way out.

Brineybeard got out of his cell and saw Cala Maria sulking in her own cell until it was opened. She was smaller than she usually was with her green mermaid tail and purple dead octopus hair. She looked up to see Brineybeard offering his hand to her. She smiled and grabbed his large hand. He picked her up and carried her out of her cell.

Everyone hurried out of the hole Grim created while Dice watched them all crawling out of the hole and escaping.

“Dice?” The familiar voice uttered.

Dice glanced over to see Devil standing there with Hunter next to him. Henchman and Stickler stood behind Devil, their eyes widened in shock at him.

“B-Boss, let me explain,” Dice stuttered, gaining Murray’s attention along with the frog brothers, Cala Maria, and Brineybeard.

Devil drew his brows together with a snarl, pointing his pitchfork at Dice. “I should’ve known you would turn on me sooner than later.”

Dice breathed heavily. “Please, let me explain—!”

The Devil shot the fireball from his pitchfork at Dice.

Dice was ready to accept his fate before Brineybeard tackled him away from the fireball. Brineybeard collapsed with Cala Maria in his arms along with Dice. Ribby and Croaks joined along with Bowlboy and Murray.

“Are ye alright?!” Brineybeard questioned.

“Hey-o, is the Devil your boss?!” Ribby interrogated.

“This is not the time to question,” Cala Maria pointed out. “We need to go now!”

“The lass be right! We needs t’ run now!” Brineybeard agreed with the sea monster in his arms.

“How do we get out? We can’t even fly,” Croaks pointed out.

They saw the silhouette of the Devil coming towards them.

It was sudden they felt something underneath them as they looked down and realized the large mushroom grew up towards the hole.

The group soon realized that it was Cagney growing a mushroom once they reach out of the hole. The mushroom tilted to the side.

“Scatter!” Cagney screamed for the group.

Dice pulled Murray by the arm to hurry onward while Ribby and Croaks ran in a different direction. Brineybeard carried Cala in his arms and followed Murray and Dice.

Cagney hurried away from the hole to catch up with Hilda and Bowlboy in a separate direction.

The Devil came out of the hole with Hunter by his side and Henchman and Stickler catching up them. The Devil watched Dice running away with Murray, Captain Brineybeard, and Cala Maria. With a growl, Devil aimed his pitchfork at them and fired another fireball.

The group dodged it and looked behind them to find Devil flying after them.

“Oh no, he’s going to kill us. He’s going to kill us,” Dice replied while breathing heavily in panic.

On cue, Ribby drove the car big enough to fit Brineybeard, Cala, Murray, and Dice in with Croaks on the passenger side.

“Get in!” Croaks shouted at them while opening the back door for them to hop in.

Dice and Murray entered the back seat of the car with Brineybeard jumping in after them with Cala Maria in his arms.

Cala decided to peek out of the window to find Devil chasing after them. With her brows drawn together, her eyes turned red and shot out laser beams. The Devil didn’t have time to react when the laser beams hit him and he was automatically turned to stone.

She smirked and put her head back into the vehicle. “Step on it!”

Ribby slammed his foot on the gas pedal and drove into the forest.

“I need to find my boys,” Murray uttered.

“Your boys?” Croaks questioned.

“Cuphead and Mugman,” Dice clarified for Murray.

“Wait, yer the father of those two?!” Ribby questioned with a gasp.

“We know yer lads, mate! We’ll take ye t’ ‘em if we knew where they be,” Brineybeard stated.

“Ooh! We know where they are!” Ribby exclaimed excitedly. “Hang on, we’ll take you to yer boys!”

With that said, Ribby sped up into the forest, getting away from the city.

Back to the Devil, he managed to burst through the stone with his flames and looked up with a snarl. He picked up his pitchfork and now he had no idea where the traitor and his new group of friends went.

“Ugh, he has the gall to betray me!” Devil growled.

Hunter shook his head. “A shame that is. I guess his greed got the best of him.”

“He’ll pay for this!” Devil snarled. “He’ll pay for all of it.”

Hunter smirked. “I know a way to make all of them pay for their wrongdoings towards you.”

Devil turned to Hunter in confusion at first. Then he grinned mischievously. “Do tell.”

Hunter smiled evilly.

To Be Continued... 

[undiscovered-horizon]

So what about Eddie with someone who’s obsessed right back and it’s like that song “unhealthy obsession.” Like sneaking into each other’s place to steal their stuff and you both don’t think the other one knows you exist. Let wackos love other wackos.

It's an interesting concept! An obsessed/yandere partner is something Eddie would definitely be into. After all, they speak his love language...🌺

🫀REQUESTS ARE OPEN🫀 || Batman-inspired playlist

Riddler with an obsessed/yan! partner

You guys are like a dog chasing its tail.

Definitely confused that someone wants his undivided attention

Relationship so toxic Britney Spear's on the phone with her lawyers

What got you initially interested in Eddie was, paradoxally, his lack of presence. In any social setting, dude's practically invisible

So there you were, at a diner, drinking your milkshake and pondering your loneliness when HE came in

A person so easy to overlook you couldn't keep your eyes off him

I mean, he looked so adorable! All awkward and meek it was as if he was silently begging for someone to love him like he deserved

And you were definitely the one to give it to him

So that night you followed him out of the diner and to his home

Little did you know, he also remained not indifferent towards you

Yes, Eddie did notice that romantically miserable person sipping their milkshake by the window

He caught your interest and you caught his

The first time you broke into his apartment, you were so excited you nearly knocked a few things over

Because it's his space

If he has any posters, movies, books, magazines etc. that could indicate his interests, you take pictures of them. For science.

You also took pictures of his aftershave and/or shampoo to buy for yourself

This huge chest of drawers in Eddie's apartment has all drawers locked. 'Their' is scratched into the wooden surface and you're about to start World War III thinking he has a partner

Even if that were the case, their term would end quite quickly and rapidly

A little murder never killed nobody. Or something like that.

You stole at least one article of Eddie's clothing. You wear them whenever you're having a bad day

You definitely have creepy stalker-style pictures of him - printed out and with lipstick kiss stains on them (you give him /pictures of him/ a kiss every morning. Is there a better way to start your day?)

Eddie was equally giddy walking through your space

Definitely nicked a few things and lay in your bed imagining what it would be like to lay there with you

He definitely gathered hair from your brush/comb and keep them underneath his pillow/mattress

You visited every store in Gotham to get the same glasses he wears - no matter whether you wear glasses yourself

Eddie would definitely steal one of the mugs/glasses from your sink and keep them as a piece of you

If you find any evidence of other people being in Eddie's life (no matter who they are), you add them to your blacklist. They might or might not suffer "unfortunate accidents". For legal reasons I cannot disclose any details

He sniffs your clothes. Maybe gets a little too into it

If you have a stuffed toy, Eddie gets a copy of it. Definitely talks to it about anything and everything

Bonus: sprays it with the perfume you usually wear

He knows the places you frequent and you know his. On quite a few occasions you missed each other because you were looking for one another. Told ya: dog chasing its tail

There is some excitement about Eddie not knowing about you. Simply put, if he doesn't know, he can't reject you. He can't stop you from being close like a fly in the wall

Carrying the keys to each other's flats on the same keychain as to your own. Because you kinda do live there too

Sometimes he hangs out outside of your window and watches you until you fall asleep

If or when you find out he's the Riddler, you're the number 1 fan

Selling homemade merch and anonymously donating the profit to him

The darker corners of the internet quickly recognize your #1 fan status

This leads to a funny situation where Eddie knows of you but not about you

You may or may not have committed a crime in the name of the Riddler... multiple times.

The only things worth knowing are those connected to Eddie

Speaking of crimes and Eddie: he had assaulted someone because of you. Maybe they were getting a little too close to you or they were mean or they became suspicious of him