#and also that half the friends she used to do drugs with ended up getting addicted to meth at some point

[black-rose-writings]

Nothing funnier than geting a drug talk from your conservative mom (it was relevant in the context of the conversation) and finding out she did LSD when she was your age.

[thanosscross]

Can I request a enemies to lovers with thanos?

I love ur writing n his character ty!

of course!! We love Thanos in this household <3 and thank you <3 I absolutely love the support I've been getting just in the one day this accounts been up <3 I do wanna say thank you guys along with a thank you to my fiancee with her amazing help with this <3 >< while I'm a sucker for enemies to lovers I'm terrible at writing pre-relationship fight scenes without a full blueprint, so my fiancee's help and obsession with the Enemies to Lovers trope definitely made this story into what it is <33

I fucking hate you - Choi Su-bong/Thanos x reader

Summary: You vowed to always hate Choi Su-bong, not only did he ruin your life but he was also just an asshole. Su-bong vowed to always hate y/n not only was she a bitch she costed him his only shot at a big rap career, so what happens whenever you two see each other after years in a death game for cash?

warnings: none really? Thanos being an ass for about..the first half

Growing up with Choi Su-Bong was your personal hell, he was your neighbor, and he always had something to bitch about towards you, always calling you out in front of the school, even going as far as coming up with MULTIPLE different stories to make you lose your spot as top of the class. Su-bong ruined your chance at any good future, forcing you to stay trapped in the same neighborhood you grew up in, while he started his rap career.

It wasn't like you were innocent either, while Su-bong went for public humiliation with your shared classmates, you went for his parents, charming them with your nice good girl demeanor, becoming his 'babysitter' (They never trusted Su-bong alone, even at 16/17) and tutor, snitching him out for any little thing you could find out about, making his home life even more of a personal hell for him. So you both hated each other for pretty respected reasons, you ruined each others potential futures, and never acknowledged it. After he moved away with his rap career blowing up, you thought you were finally free of him and his constantly ruining your life, until the debt came. Your mom got sick, your dad up and left one day, so financials were solely on you, shoving you deep into thousands of wons in debt.

You were close to ending it, going on a walk towards the old trainyards, whenever you ran into a way too well dressed man to be there, he offered you a fix, something you took without a second thought.

Red light, Greenlight was going great, until you and everybody else realized you weren't just being taking out of the running for the cash, you were risking your life. You stood frozen, keeping your eyes squeezed shut as you waited for the doll to turn back around "Holy shit! Holy shit! Y/n!?" You heard a grating voice shout out behind you, of course he was here, why couldn't you ever do something without him ruining it. Standing still, not wanting to move until you were allowed to, you continued to hear Thanos's shouts, as greenlight was called, you tried to hide yourself in the crowd, not wanting to interact with him, but, like always, he found someway to ruin it for you. As red light was called, Thanos's high ass skipped over slamming into you almost knocking you off of your feet, before you could make contact with the ground, two arms wrapped around your waist pulling you against him, smirking as he used to opportunity of being stuck on redlight to be close to you "Y/n! What are you doin here!?" He gasped practically shouting in your face, as the doll's head turned again you shoved him back "Let go of me, you fucking drug addict, we are NOT friends" You seethed, okay so maybe you blamed Su-bong for a alot of things that happened after he left, but you didn't care, he was an easy person to blame.

Thanos gave an overdramatic pained expression as he rested a hand on his chest, rushing to stay caught up with you "C'mon! Y/n!" He shouted spinning around you to face you as the doll's head spun "Su-Bong! Please! Leave me alone! We aren't friends! We never fucking were! I hate you! I fucking hate you so much! You ruined my fucking life!" You growled trying to hide your body behind his to keep you out of view of the doll "Psh! I ruined your life!? You ruined my life! Do you not understand that!?" He shouted, his excited playful demeanor shifted, he was angry now, how dare you say that? You were at every corner to him ruining his life. You felt the same about him though, especially right now "I didn't do shit!" You scoffed "You did drugs! In school! So yea! I told your parents! So you told everybody in school including the principal and my parents that I've fucked every teacher since the start of high school!" You shouted "I got kicked out of school for the rest of the year! Do you know how bad that ruined my life!?" You finished punching his chest as hard as you could "Uhm! Ow! And you didn't just tell my parents! I was about to sign on to a recording label and you fucked that up for me being a bitch!" He argued, if it weren't for the fact the Doll's head still faced towards you, you were sure that you would've stormed off by now.

You took off as soon as the doll's head turned back around, making it past the red colored line in the sand, trying to stay away from everybody until it was lights out. You were almost successful, until somebody used their bodyweight and arm to pin you against the wall "Why can't you just admit that you were a bitch?" He snapped, only now did you realize it was your walking curse, Su-bong "Why can't you just admit you're an arrogant asshole who only cares about himself" You snapped, trying to shove him away like usual, but this time was different than all the other times growing up, this time he didn't stumble, his body didn't even shift under it, he just stood there stiff, you'd be lying if you said it didn't scare you a little bit, now realizing maybe those times you 'beat his ass' he let you, because now, feeling trapped between him and the wall, your shoves and hits not phasing him in the slightest, truly shook you to your core with fear, he could do anything at this point, you couldn't let him see though, you'd just feed into his stupid cocky attitude even more.

"Admit. You. ruined. everything. for me. bitch" he seethed, Su-bong leaning closer to your face, you could feel his breath on your face at this point.

Su-bong smiled, the look on your face was one he had been trying to get for years, who knew all it took was just hiding the face a few punches really fuckin hurt "Go on. say it" He whispered, you shivered, your panicked eyes scanning over his face, before taking in a shaky breath "Let me go" You snapped before a hand landed on Su-bong's shoulder "The young lady said to let her go, I advise you do so" A man threatened from behind, Su-bong smirked slowly turning around before realizing the man was about half a foot taller than him "Fine. fine. but she'll admit eventually" Su-bong said, giving you one last glare, before the man, number 001, stepped closer "I'm Young Il, who was that guy?" He introduced himself watching as you fixing your jacket and huffed "An asshole I used to live by, I'm y/n" You explained, he nodded, offering you take you over to where him and his friends sat.

Thanos sat next to his bunk, watching you closely, he couldn't describe it, but seeing you talking to somebody else made him feel crazier than any drug, it had always been that way, the entire reason he started hating you was because you were always interested in everybody except him, and it pissed him off, he knew he was hot, he knew he could ask out just about any girl he sees who knows him and she'll be ecstatic, but you acted like he was scum, just because he took some pills and smoked some weed to feel better about things. Nam-Gyu huffed, noticing his friend hadn't been listening that entire time he was talking, he followed his eye line, noticing you laughing and talking with two of the men from before, the crazy guy and the one who stopped them from beating that stealing bitcoin asshole's ass.

As the lights went out, Su-bong stayed in his place, watching say your goodnights to the group you had been with, he knew you had to walk right by him to get to your bunk, he knew yours was the one right next to his, thank god. As you approached him, you never realized until you were basically tripping over him on the stairs, scoffing you caught yourself on the bed "Seriously?" You growled, letting yourself fall onto your bed, as he took in your location, he slowly crawled to you "Join my team" he offered, you laughed loudly, quickly covering your mouth to not disturb the other players "Yea...no" You laughed looking at him, you couldn't see it in the dark, but Su-bong got visibly pissed off with your response "It wasn't a question" He demanded, glaring at you, you wanted so badly to just punch him in the head, but you just turned your back to him "Goodnight su-bong" He stopped at your reply, yes you weren't agreeing, but that was the first somewhat nice thing you had said to him in awhile, even if it was to cut him off and end the conversation he wasn't done with. Huffing and falling back onto his bed, he laid on his side to watch you, half because if you got killed, he'd be damned if it was anybody but him doing the deed, and half because he didn't want you sneaking off to go lay with the old dick that interrupted him from earlier.

He watched you toss and turn for hours, not really knowing when you fell asleep because he had passed out himself, waking up whenever the loud trumpets sounded off, and the lights flicked on, he slowly sat up, quickly checking his necklace was still around his neck, and you were still in bed. You were, your blanket wrapped tightly around you, Su-bong marveled for a moment, before realizing you were still deep in sleep, unphased by the loud music and lights. He slowly moved across the stairway, ghosting a hand over your back "Y/n. Y/n it's to wake up" He said, trying to be loud enough to wake you up, you did infact wake up, but with a jolt, turning quickly and grabbing Su-bong's hand, stopping at the very last second before your fist connected with his jaw "Hey!" He protested, attempting to lean out of the way "The next game is gonna start"

The next game you played was six legs, which went as smoothly as it could have been, you stuck with Young-Il and his friends, which in the end you realized was a good choice. Making your way through dinner and lights out was your next issue, Su-bong was starting to get on your nerves and you couldn't understand why he was so clingy all of a sudden "I thought I said to join my team?" he asked you, the lights had gone out long ago, and your back was to him "And i thought I laughed in your face and told you no?" You asked turning on your side to face him "I don't like that guy, or you being around him" He stated, going to lean closer to you but you beat him to it, shoving your finger at his chest "I don't care, young-il is sweet and cares about me, unlike some people! Su-bong you are the most selfish person I fucking know, who knows if I would be betrayed and killed because of you! You ruined everything I worked so hard for! ruined my name! And you think you can boss me around!?" You shouted, every shout followed by a harsh hit to the shoulder or chest, you couldn't help it, he pissed you off. Su-bong was feeling something else though, the more you shouted at him, the more his eyes were drawn your lips rather than your words, You were too caught up in your shouts to notice though, that was until his fingers rested on your chin tilting your head up so you were making direct eye contact "Shut up." He demanded "Just go to bed, whatever the game is, you'll need sleep" He explained, you were too stunned to say anything, instead just ripping your head away from him and laying down in your bed "You shut up" You grumbled, trying to hide your flustered face, no way you were about to show or admit that you were flustered by that selfish dick.

During Mingle you tried to stick with Young-il, but Nam-Gyu, Su-Bong, and Min-su kept grabbing you and forcefully taking you with them, until it just turned into just Su-bong pulling you into a room with him "Why can't you just leave me alone!?" You cried out, you were trying so hard to avoid him, and yet he was trying his best to run into you. "I told you to stay away from young il" his voice was low and deep, you glared at him, you thought you made yourself clear last night, before you could start back up though, Su-bong was right in front of you, leaning down and pressing a finger to your lips "Don't wanna hear it" He interrupted before looking at you "Why don't you want me?" He asked tilting his head, you glared at him "Because you're a selfish self entitled asshole?" You asked like it was obvious, Su-bong huffed "Even in school, every chick wanted me, why not you?" He asked tilting his head, you just rolled your eyes "Just because I don't throw myself at you, doesn't mean I never wanted you, you just ruined it by being you" You huffed, sighing in relief hearing the lock unlock, you rushed out, desperate to just get back to the room.

Meal time was weird, you surprised yourself by sitting with Su-bong and his friends, Thanos quickly leaning over, pulling you down to sit across from him, smirking at you "Welcome to the Thanos world" He said, you just rolled your eyes at him scoffing "Don't ruin it" You warned raising an eyebrow, you continued to eat your food, finally opening your milk taking a huge drink, normally it wouldn't be your choice of drink to chug, but after running around so much, you needed literally anything. You heard Su-bong scoff this time, causing you to look up at him confused "Why do women drink something leave it on their lip, and act like they don't know?" He asked aloud, but by his eye contact you could tell it was directed towards you "I'm sorry?" You asked going to wipe your mouth but he leaned up quickly "Don't! That's disgusting" He grimaced before leaning over the stairwell to copy his actions from the night before, using his index and thumb to tilt your head up, thinking he was going to wipe it off with his jacket, you were shocked to feel his soft lips against yours. You shuddered feeling his tongue swipe swiftly over your top lip before he pulled away sitting back down, continuing to eat like he didn't just do that.

Your cheeks were bright with a blush as you now sipped the rest of your milk, careful not to get anymore on your lips, if you did, you made sure to lick your lips before Su-bong could take notice. Any crumbs left on your lips after you were done eating he was also quick to wipe those off, almost like you couldn't on your own or you needed to be supervised while you ate. Whenever lights out came it was even more odd, instead of his usual crawling over to bother you, he quietly whispered your name from his spot on his bunk "What?" You asked, your tone coming off a little bit more harsh than you intended "Sorry...it's just, did you mean what you said earlier?" He asked, you sighed turning around to face him "I thought you were really hot for awhile, all of my friends knew it, it's just, you started acting like an ass, and then I lost a trip to college because of you" You explained "And I guess I just didn't have time to think like that because I was busy being mad at you" you explained, you watched him frown and his eyebrows furrow in confusion "I..I never meant to do that..I just wanted you to like..get in trouble or something" He whispered "I was just...You planted my friends drugs on me, told my parents and I couldn't make it to a meeting I had that could've launched my rap career into space" He whispered, now it was your turn to feel bad, you didn't mean to do all of that, just get him grounded for a little bit. It was your turn to crawl to his bunk, giving him a awkward hug "I..I didn't mean to do that..I just..you ruined that for me and you were just getting off without any troubles..parties every week, so..I thought if I took the parties and stuff away it'd give you some type of punishment" you mumbled, Su-bong leaned up hugging you back "Yea..You were pretty lame" He whispered nodding along to agree with his own comment "Shut up, you were a stupid idiot" You defended pulling away from the hug "Why did I ever think I could forgive you" You giggled, tilting your head slightly as you smiled at him, never would you have thought you'd be having a civil conversation with this dickhead, let alone laughing and smiling with him "Aw, c'mon beauty flower, everybody forgives thanos" He teased, you gawked at him in second hand embarrassment, he did not just say that. "I actually fucking hate you" You said, the smile on your face an obvious sign that maybe you didn't hate him as much as you say. "What? Beauty flower? or the fact that you'll forgive me" He asked wiggling his eyebrows at you, you just laughed, you felt like a young teenager again, before your feud started with Su-bong and the drugs and debt started with you both. "Both! Don't call me beauty flower, and I will not be forgiving you" You protested, Su-bong pouted, you took your chance to shock him this time and pressed your lips against his pouting ones, his hand immediately came in contact with your ass trying to pull you closer, you just rolled your eyes, grabbing his hand moving it to your cheek pressing your lips completely against his, taking a breath of relief whenever he kissed back, his lips moving with yours like it had been rehearsed before. As you pulled away, Su-bong huffed tugging his tracksuit pants down "Now I fucking hate you" He smirked reaching for his necklace "Me first" You smirked before moving back to your bunk giving him a final wink before turning around "Goodnight...thanos" You said, not being able to believe you actually just called him that "Night, pretty girl" you heard say with a large amount of cockiness in his voice, he couldn't help it though, even now if he went home, he'd have enough for his debts, and just kissed the girls he's wanted to kiss since he learned what kissing girls was.

--

so what do we think?

[jazzyoranges]

heyy i love how well written your works are, and i was wondering if there could be another tara carpenter x gp reader?? an enemies to lovers kinda thing, smut/fluff but it is totally up to you!! thankss❤️

All Mine

Tara Carpenter x gp!reader

Words: 2.8k

A/n: thank you!! also kind of a combination of this request and a prompt in this request

Warnings: reader has a penis, hate fuck? i think?, bottom!T, top!R, explicit sex, implication of breeding kink, teasing (lots of it), unprotected sex (your pullout game is weak), implication of alcohol consumption, no ghostface au

MINORS DNI!!

Tara hates three things in her life. You, hairless cats, and soggy bread. In that order too

She could handle hating hairless cats and soggy bread, but you? You were in Tara’s friend group. Tara hated you and to make matters worse, she was the only one that did

You were nerdy like Wes and Ethan, quick-witted and funny like Mindy and Amber, athletic like Chad, charismatic like Quinn, protective like Sam, and (allegedly) nice like Anika. You had nearly every one of her friends best traits, but Tara knew why she didn’t like you. You were really fucking annoying

Along with all of your positive traits, you were loud and obnoxiously social. Not that Tara was antisocial or anything, but god you were on a whole other level. It was mildly infuriating how you could go to a party you knew nobody at and somehow come out with more friends than you started with

All those people and you decided Tara was the one you’d annoy. A nudge to her shoulder made Tara look up from where she was putting her head down

“You look like shit” The brunette doesn’t respond and puts her head back down on the table

“Sam tase someone without your permission again?” Tara could practically hear the smirk in your voice

“Please for the love of god shut the fuck up. Your voice is the last thing I need to hear today”

“Woah, someone’s mad” You stick out your tongue in response at the glare Tara sends your way

“Suck my dick, (Y/n).”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Carpenter”

Tara abruptly leaves the lecture room. You think you really fucked up this time, but let out a breath of relief when you see that Tara didn’t grab her things. She was probably going to the bathroom to escape you. Which, who would ever want to escape you?

Apparently not Tara because she’s back in her seat just a few minutes before the lecture starts

“Aspirin?” You grab the bottle from a pocket in your bag, shaking it next to her

“You have Aspirin laying around?”

“Anika told me you were at a party, I figured it’s the least I could do”

“You’re trying to drug me, aren’t you?”

“If I was trying to drug you, I would’ve offered it to you at the end of class”

“Why weren’t you at the party?” Tara asks, taking the bottle from you hands and shaking out two tablets before downing them with some water

“Missed me?”

“Nope, just surprised you weren’t blackout drunk”

“Good to know you think highly of me. I was studying, thank you”

“You? Study?” Tara scoffs

“Don’t act like the idea is so out of this world”

“Right, because last time I remember you passing up a party was because your betta fish died and you forced all of us to have a funeral for him at the park”

“Trout’s death is not one to be made fun of!”

Before Tara can respond, the professor starts talking and the lesson begins. Unfortunately her head is still kind of throbbing with only mildly wanting to throw up. She had to accept she wasn’t going to get anything done until that Aspirin kicked in. Especially when she can feel you staring at her

The class goes as smoothly as it can and you notice Tara hasn’t made an effort to even try to take notes. The lesson eventually ends and when everyone gets up, the brunette begrudgingly does too

You bump your shoulders together and Tara glares at you with enough power you actually manage to feel fear for a split second until you realize it’s Tara. The girl was like two apples tall. Two and a half on a good day

The brunette doesn’t realize you were handing her a paper so you physically have to place it in her hand. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion

“What is this?”

“Notes, you need them”

“I’m not buying you Raising Canes if that’s what you want”

“Since I’m such a good friend, I’ll give it to you free of charge. Just make sure to bring it back with minimal damage”

“You’re not gonna make me Paypal you fifty bucks?” Tara doesn’t have any classes for the next few hours so you two made a point to walk to your next class. She didn’t know how it started, but you were okay to talk to when you weren’t being annoying

“In my defense, Trout recently died”

“We buried him in the fucking park, I don’t think that costs money”

“It was condolence money. I made everyone pay and I think it was pretty genius”

“I really do wonder how you still have friends”

//-//

Someone knocks on the door of you and Anika’s apartment. When you realize your roommate is probably listening to music that was too loud to be healthy, you get up from your very comfortable bed

You don’t remember ordering food and you’re pretty sure Anika didn’t invite Mindy over, so the person behind the door was probably just the nice old lady across the hall that made cookies for everyone

For better or for worse, you’re met with a Tara Carpenter that’s caught off guard when you open the door. Tara usually sees you in well put together outfits so you can only imagine her surprise when she sees you wearing boxers that outlined your cock and a hoodie that barely covered it up

“Eyes are up here- What brings you to the Mojo Dojo Casa House?”

“Can’t you just let me in?” Tara’s cheeks burn in embarrassment. Thank god you just glossed over… it

“It’s protocol you identify yourself and state why you’re here” You lean on the doorframe, actively blocking the entrance to your apartment. Tara knew this was a losing battle and hated how you looked hot while winning

“Anika and I have a project we need to work on”

“You didn’t identify yourself” you’re wearing that same dumbass smirk you have after telling a horrible joke

“Tara. Tara fucking Carpenter.”

“Unfortunately I don’t think we know any Tara Fucking Carpenters. Guess you can’t come in” you shrug

“God give me patience.” Tara rubs at her temples like you’re giving her a headache

“Isn’t it god give me strength?”

“If god gave me strength, you would be dead.”

“Point taken, but you still need a password”

“You didn’t say anything about a password!”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know if you’re the real Tara or not. Say a fact about me only the real Tara would know”

The brunette pretends to think for a moment, even putting her hand on her chin and looking off into the distance for effect. When she notices you’re starting to get suspicious of her antics Tara pushes you though the door, successfully getting in without a password or confirmation

You stumble back almost like a cartoon character and you can hear Tara let out a small laugh. You can see the dimples on her cheeks whe she tries to cover it up with her hand

“Nika, your friend’s here!” You lead Tara to Anika’s room, making sure to knock loudly while Tara’s busy either checking you out or trying to blow you up with her mind. It’s unclear, but you have to lean towards the latter

“Isn’t Tara your friend too?” Your roommate opens the door, headphones around her neck

“No.”

“Yes.” Both of you say in unison. The look you give each other is almost comical with how Tara’s glaring while you’re smiling. Anika stares blankly between you two and it eventually starts to make more sense

“Stop eye fucking each other, we have work to do” Anika pulls Tara into her room. You shrug, heading off to probably yell at ten year olds on Fortnite or something

“We were not eye fucking” the shorter girl huffs, sitting on Anika’s bed

“I literally opened my door and thought you two were about to make out”

“I didn’t expect to get interrogated when I came here!” Tara flops onto her back, covering her eyes and trying (and failing) to stop the red that dusted her cheeks

“Whatever, I’ll get you to crack later”

“Kill yourself.”

//-//

Tara doesn’t understand what she’s feeling when she sees some random girl grind against you

It’s like that one scene in Euphoria when Maddy and Nate stare each other down at the school dance, except you were looking far more more bored. That is, until you see Tara glaring at both of you

Like a switch turned on, you’re suddenly more interested in the girl. You encourage her grinding with a hand kneading her hip, using your other hand to take a sip of your drink. And just like Maddy, she’s tempted to find Chad to do the same to you. She doesn’t.

Tara fucking hated you. But she also needed you now.

Making you jealous would take too long. In theory she had the time, but her hunger to taste you was making her do things she would’ve never thought of before. One of those things being grabbing your hand and leading you away from any girl that tried to even look at you.

The girl who was grinding on you calls her a bitch among other things, but Tara knows it’s worth it when she sees you smile at her like she’s your entire world. Because she was your entire world

She leads you into an empty guest bedroom of the house, locking the door before getting close enough to you she can smell the alcohol in your breath

“What’s all this about, Tar?” You grin. Tara doesn’t know if she wants to kiss or slap that smirk right off of your annoying face

“You know what this is fucking about.”

“Do I? I think you should spell it out for me.”

“You know, I’ve had it with your attitude.” Tara jabs a finger at your chest, the back of your knees hitting the end of the bed. In one motion you sit down and bring Tara down with you. You make her sit on your cock

“Anyone ever tell you you’re fucking hot when you’re mad?” You smile, finding the blush on Tara’s cheeks absolutely adorable

“Only you.”

“Good. How about we keep it that way, baby?”

“You’re so annoying.” The brunette cups your face with both of her hands, your lips fitting together like they were always meant to

“I know I am” You say in between kisses, your hands finding their way up Tara’s shirt, kneading the spot right under her boob. She forces your hand to stimulate her nipple, eliciting a moan from her mouth

“You’re so pretty, Tar. I can’t believe only I get to see you get all hot and bothered” You smile breathlessly

“Fuck. S-Stop talking like that or you’ll make me like you” Biting a hickey on Tara’s neck, you take of her shirt and her bra in a flurry of heat

“I bet you’ll like me even more when you’re bouncing on my cock” You force Tara to grind on the bulge in your pants, earning you a small whimper that makes you smile

“C’mon, all you have to do is admit you like me and I’ll fuck you better than anyone has” It should be considered torture how much you were teasing Tara. You were biting hickeys on her neck, playing with her nipples, all while a few layers of fabric were the only barriers between your dick and her pussy. Fuck you knew how to overstimulate a girl

Laying Tara on on the bed, you could really tease the brunette better in this position. You can feel the Tara’s wetness through her soaked panties, and you’re sure she can feel the pre-cum leak out of your cock. Your hands are on her hips as if you were thrusting, yet you deny her and your pleasure for the sake of being an ass

“Don’t you want me to ruin you for anyone else? I promise I’ll stretch you out so good no other guys’ cock can fill you up like me.”

“Fuck you. I hate you, you’re s-such a fucking asshole, you know that?” Tara reaches for anything she can hold onto, your arms being the nearest thing

“I can think ways you could ‘hate’ me even more” You smile when Tara reaches to take off her panties but you find her hands first. You intertwine your hands together and the action is so soft Tara almost forgets about the situation she’s in. Almost

“Whenever I masturbate I think of you, did you know that? God, sometimes I have these hookups and all I can think about is you cumming around my cock”

Tara thinks it’s embarrassing how she’s about to cum just by your sickeningly sweet voice and the constant friction between you two. Tara also thinks she’d rather die than miss an opportunity of a lifetime.

Sure you were a cocky pain in the ass, but you were her cocky pain in the ass.

“Fuck- I admit it! I think you’re the hottest fucking person in the world. I like you.” Tara looks straight into your eyes, and the smile reserved only for her makes another appearance

“That wasn’t so hard, was it Tar?”

“I still hate you.” You unbuckle your belt and unbutton and unzip your jeans with watchful eyes. You pull down your boxers just enough so that your cock springs out, making Tara’s mouth water. Fuck you were big

Pulling Tara’s panties to the side, she’s dripping wet when you swipe your finger across her slit

“Fuck- (Y-Y/n)” Tara sings when you lick up her juices with your tongue. She buries her hands in your hair, bringing you closer to her dripping cunt. You moan at her taste and the vibrations are almost enough to get Tara to cum. Almost

You rise to your knees, lining up your dripping cock with the shorter girls dripping pussy. You decide to be evil and rub your dick against her slit before easing your tip into her hole. It was infuriating how slow you were going and Tara remembers why she hated you in the first place

Tara’s whining and whimpering under you and you can’t remember a time where you’ve been happier than in this moment

Tara on the other hand, has never hated you more in her life than in this moment

The younger Carpenter decides to be bold when she grabs your shirt and forces you forward. You’re caught off guard and over half of your cock finds itself nestled tightly in her pussy as you catch yourself with your arms

“Y-You’re sneaky, aren’t ‘cha” With your face so close to hers, Tara realizes you’re as much of a victim to your teasing as she is. She can tell it’s taking everything inside of you not to fuck her raw until your dick is limp and Tara’s legs are sore

“You can go fast. I can handle it, baby” Tara cups your face with her hand, stroking your cheek with such softness like you aren’t literally lodged into her cunt like a dog in heat

With that confirmation, you give Tara a peck on the lips and buck your hips in such a way you hit that spongey spot inside of her

The sound of skin slapping is louder than the blasting music downstairs, but your grunting and Tara’s moaning combined are louder than both. Thank god the owner of the house was your friend because you don’t know if you could come out of that room if this is what Tara sounded like

“Fuck- I’m close” You say a little too breathlessly for your liking

“Don’t p-pull out.” The shorter girl uses your shirt as leverage to keep you inside of her. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion

“T-Too messy, don’t feel like cleaning up.” Tara answers between moans like she can read your mind

The familiar heat you’re so used to finally snaps. Wrapping her legs around yours, you cum with almost a guttural whine. Your orgasm is enough for Tara to have hers and you fuck her through it, making sure none of your cum drips out of her hole

You pull out and a few dribbles of your semen flow out of her cunt. You plug her pussy with your fingers and Tara is far too sensitive to handle it

“D-Don’t tell me you’re tired already?” Tara jokes, but all air in her lungs leave when you let out a laugh of your own

“I’ve got all night, love.”

Tara has to remember to make you buy her a morning after pill.

[ilguna]

☼ odds are (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; you and Finnick have never seen eye to eye, despite both being close friends with Johanna. it isn't until you save his life in the arena, does he see you different.

warnings; swearing, weapon use, blood, ehhh gore, death, drug mention, kinda starvation mention, suicide (mags), puke mention, the usual hunger games stuff.

wc; 9.6k

--

If there’s one thing that you’ve learned so far about the other district’s personalities since becoming a mentor, it’s that District Four produces the most annoying people by far. You don’t know if they’re born that way, or if it’s the water they drink, but they take that top spot without a close runner up.

Which is crazy, considering people like Enobaria and Gloss exist. They don’t know when to stop even when it’s obvious, yet they can be more mature than Finnick Odair is half the time.

He has the ego the size of a hovercraft and he just uses it to do whatever he wants to whoever he wants. He thinks that if he can smother someone enough, they’ll back down and let him have his way. Arguing with Finnick is truly like talking to someone who always assumes they’re right just because they’re older than you.

Except, in this case, it’s because he’s been mentoring longer, since he won ten years ago. It gives him seniority in calling the shots, or it does in his mind, at least. 

He wants to be the main ally that corrales Katniss and Peeta into doing what’s best in the arena. The problem with that is Katniss doesn’t like Finnick, which will make it a huge ordeal trying to get her to do anything for him. He seems to think that as long as Peeta trusts him, Katniss will follow.

Only, Peeta’s not a complete idiot and he knows how to think for himself. Beyond that, in a setting where there’s going to be twenty-two other tributes that have also won the Hunger Games in their own unique ways—Peeta’s going to follow Katniss’s lead. There’s not a single doubt in your mind that he’s going to let her take the reins and trust her to protect him in dangerous situations.

So, in the end, while Peeta might have his own opinions on what he’d like to do, he’s going to value Katniss’s opinion first. 

Finnick can’t seem to understand that. It doesn’t matter how you explain it to him, he doesn’t want you to be right. Even with Johanna standing here, telling him that you’re not wrong, he refuses to believe it. 

“You’re just going to make her mad.” You tell him again, throwing your hand up. “We all saw the way she looked at you yesterday, and today she’s gone out of her way to make sure she can’t talk to you.”

Finnick glances over in Katniss and Peeta’s direction. They’re on the far side of the Training Center, sitting with Cecelia from District Eight. This morning’s the last chance you get to train before the private session with the Gamemakers in the afternoon. From what you’ve been watching, they’re taking it easy.

“We already knew she wasn’t going to like me.”

“Does it have anything to do with the way you approached her during the parade?” You ask back, tilting your head. “You’re terrible at first impressions.”

“I am not.” Finnick’s face twists.

“Yeah, and that’s why we’re friends, right?” Your tone sarcastic. “I’m not asking for your permission, I’m going to tell Haymitch that you’ll meet up with us later on down the line.”

Finnick shakes his head. “That makes no sense. You are not a strong fighter, I need to be there to help with Katniss.”

“Katniss doesn’t need help!” You exclaim quietly. “What Katniss needed is someone she can trust, and that’s obviously me. I just spent the past two days getting to know her. She doesn’t want to be around either of you.” 

You then place your hand on Johanna’s shoulder, but she gives you a shrug. “I don’t care. She’s going to have to deal with me sooner or later. I have no preference.”

“You have basically no fighting experience, all you’ll do is get in her way.” Finnick tells you.

“Excuse me, I do know how to fight. I set the highest score when it came to hand-to-hand combat with a weapon.”

“When?” Finnick asks, not believing you.

“Today.”

“Bullshit.”

“Finnick, she’s not lying.” Johanna sighs. “And that’s besides the point. We can’t keep (Y/n) out of the plan just because you can’t get along with her. She’s right about Katniss.”

“I can and will keep her out of the fight.” Finnick tells Johanna, causing your face to scrunch up. “Who’s going to get to the Cornucopia first, you or me?”

“I’m not airheaded enough to think it’s me.” You snap back. “But—”

“Katniss knows how to swim, we saw it last year. She’s going to get there second. What stops me then?”

“Me, when I get my fucking hands around your neck.” You point at him. “What happens on the off-chance you chase her off? What’s your big idea then?”

“Haymitch is going to get me something to signal to her that we’re already allies.” Finnick shrugs. “I bet he didn’t talk to you about anything like that.”

“He doesn’t have to.” You laugh. “That’s the entire point. I don’t need him to signal to her about anything. She picked me as an ally on that first day. You can’t say the same. It says a lot about your character.”

“My character?” He’s unimpressed.

“No one likes you!” You shout at him.

“Okay,” Johanna says. “Let’s talk with Haymitch tonight, see what he has to say about the situation.”

“Fine, but I’m not spending the rest of my day with this idiot.” You tell her.

—

Monkeys.

At first, it was only a couple that were hanging above Peeta, who couldn’t be more oblivious. Now, a troop of them have gathered in the twilight in the time it’s taken you, Finnick and Katniss to assess the situation. They’ve completely appeared out of thin air, gathering on open branches.

And they’re all watching Peeta.

You eye Finnick, wondering what he’s thinking on how he wants to handle this. After all, he’s been directed to take charge in situations where Katniss and Peeta’s lives are in danger. Or rather, he asked Haymitch to make it official, because he couldn’t live with the idea that you might be the better fit.

Either way, there’s several different approaches you could take. Does he want to go to Peeta and guide him out of the jungle to make sure he keeps his head down or will that trigger the monkeys? You could try gathering around Peeta and set off the monkeys on purpose to ensure you’re in control, because they’re bound to go off anyway… right?

Or maybe it’s a better idea to lure Peeta out of the jungle and hope for the best?

Katniss makes a decision before Finnick does, carefully arming her bow with two arrows, just in case a fight shows itself. This causes Finnick to nervously adjust the trident in his hand, not ready for what she’s planning on doing.

You, on the other hand, trust her. 

“Peeta.” Katniss’s voice is calm, but there’s a slight edge to her voice if you listen closely. “I need your help with something.”

“Okay, just a minute. I think I’ve just about got it.” Peeta tells her, fiddling with the tree so he can put the spile in the bark. “Yes, there. Have you got the spile?”

“I do. But we’ve found something you’d better take a look at,” Katniss continues. “Only move toward us quietly, so you don’t startle it.”

Katniss has decided to lure Peeta out, then. It’s not a bad plan. With how the monkeys are tracking Peeta’s every movement, anything mildly offensive could cause them to attack. And since eye contact is a form of aggression, he needs to keep his head down.

Peeta turns to face the three of you, panting from trying to drill into the tree with the awl that Mags had passed over before she died. “Okay.” He agrees, not an ounce of hesitation.

He begins to come in your direction, but he’s not at all being quiet whatsoever. This is expected, he wasn’t last year, either. He’s not used to hunting or gently shuffling your feet through leaves. He worked in a bakery, carrying heavy bags over his shoulder.

It doesn’t matter, as long as the monkeys are holding their position—and they are—despite the amount of noise he’s making. He’s only five yards from the beach, where you’re standing, when he finally feels how off the air is. His eyes dart up for only a split second, but that’s all it takes.

Their shrieking fills the air, almost causing you to cover your ears at the pitch. The monkeys launch themselves off the branches and aim straight for Peeta, ready to kill. They’re too quick for your eyes, making them one blur. They slide down vines, jump from the trees with teeth bared, hacked raised and claws as sharp as knives.

You jerk forward, drawing your sword back to swing as soon as you get into range.

“Mutts!” Katniss blurts, in case you haven’t figured it out by now.

Katniss and Finnick take off after you. You swing hard, right at the first monkey that thinks they can get their paws on Peeta. The blade cuts right through fur, slicing skin right open, blood flying everywhere. The mutt collapses, struggling to breathe.

It’s just the first of many.

You move on, drawing Peeta in closer to protect him easier. Katniss shoots her arrows two at a time, taking down twice the amount of mutts you can. Finnick tries to keep up with her pace by spearing several of them at once and flinging them aside. Peeta can’t do much with his knife, but you’re able to keep them off of him with just your sword.

The fight grows harder the longer it goes on as you try to see through the darkness, breathing in the cloud of blood and must. Even as you end up back to back with your allies, it doesn’t get any easier. 

“Peeta!” Katniss suddenly shouts. “Your arrows!”

Peeta stops swinging, briefly looking over at Katniss to see what she means. In an instant, he begins to slide out of his sheath so that he can hand it over to her. He doesn’t even wait to make sure the coast is clear before he does.

“Peeta!” You blurt.

You swing at a mutt that’s already coming at you, catching the sight of another one flying out of a tree, heading in his direction. For a moment, you think you have just enough time to fling the monkey off your sword to save him, but the mutt at the end of your blade grabs your wrist, yanking you out of the formation.

You’re thrown into the jungle, a blur of green and brown passing by, until you hit the ground. You roll for a couple of feet, and then come to a stop, staring at the leaves above your head, trying to get a hold of your air. There’s a dull pain on the right side of your body from the impact.

And then you get back up.

Katniss is running for Peeta, hands outreached to grab him before the mutt does, but she’s too far. 

A body materializes from one of the trees, screaming, jumping in front of him just in time. The mutt’s claws swing inward pulling—who you believe to be—the morphling from District Six in for a deadly hug as it sinks its canines into her chest.

You’ve managed to regroup with them now. Peeta wiggles out of the sheath, letting it fall to the dirt so he can bury his knife into the monkey’s back. He stabs it repeatedly until it finally releases its jaw, kicking it away. Katniss retrieves her arrows, loading her bow, waiting for another attack.

You turn to look at the monkeys in the trees, curious to see what they’re doing. They stare back at you, unmoving, observing you the same way. Beside you, Finnick is breathing heavy, trident resting on the ground. He must think that the fight is over, then.

“Come on, then! Come on!” Peeta shouts at the mutts, trying to egg them on. 

They seem disinterested in continuing though, satisfied with the life they’ve taken, retreating. They disappear into the darkness of the jungle silently, and even though it appears they’re gone, it doesn’t feel like it.

“Get her,” Katniss says, she’s talking to Peeta. “We’ll cover you.”

You eye the morphling, who’s audibly wheezing, not quite dead yet, but she will be soon. Peeta carefully lifts her, turning to leave the jungle, the beach being a few feet away. Finnick motions for Katniss to follow Peeta, you don’t even bother to argue with him about who goes next after that.

There are several orange bodies on the ground on the way out. You step over them, wary of the possibility that they could be pretending to be dead. As soon as you step foot onto sand, a shiver runs up your spine, causing your neck to shrink into your shoulders.

You tense too harshly, the pain in your side returns. You can’t help the gasp that escapes you as you reach to grab your exposed skin. Since you no longer have a jumpsuit to protect you because of the poisonous fog, several cuts and scrapes have been inflicted across your skin.

“Cold?” Finnick asks, it sounds like he’s teasing. Before you can answer, he keeps going, “Or does your body hurt because you couldn’t handle some hand-to-hand combat?” 

You look over your shoulder to see him, eyes narrowed into slits. “You think you’re so funny.”

“What about my observation makes you think that I’m joking?” He asks, coming to a stop. “You just proved me right.”

“What are you talking about?” You ask, face twisting. “Prove you right, how? We’ve barely said anything to each other since the Cornucopia.”

“You have no fighting experience.” He tells you with a straight face. “You’re a danger to the alliance.”

You press your lips together, staring at him, holding back the urge to scream profanities in his face. 

What would he have liked you to do at that moment? You were occupied with a mutt, and Peeta just straight-up abandoned his job to give Katniss a sheath without thinking twice. You were off your game because you didn’t know what to do with a monkey flying at him, while trying to defend yourself at the same time. 

You’ll give it to Finnick, you made an error which could’ve easily have resulted in your death, but it didn’t. What he doesn’t realize is that you will learn from it, you don’t often make the same mistakes twice. You’re not a fucking child, either.

“You forget I was invited to the alliance.” You tell him, choosing not to engage in his behavior. “I don’t know why I bothered responding to you.” You start to move away from him. “All you’re capable of doing is criticizing people.”

You turn away from him, heading to Katniss and Peeta, who are hovering over the morphling girl. They have cut away the jumpsuit over her chest, revealing the four puncture wounds from the mutt’s fangs. There’s blood slowly running out of them, making the situation appear better than it is. 

She’s gasping for air, desperate for every lungful, holding onto Katniss’s hands, unable to control her twitching. A part of you wonders if she accidentally got caught up in the fog, but that can’t be the case. It has to be withdrawal, considering the green shade of her skin, her prominent cheekbones. She watches the clouds in the sky blankly, trying to hold on.

“I’ll watch the trees.” Finnick says, right before turning away from the scene.

You stare at the back of his head, and then turn your attention back to the morphling. Peeta moves to be on the other side of her, crouching down to gently stroke her hair, speaking quietly. “With my paint box at home, I can make every color imaginable. Pink. As pale as a baby’s skin. Or as deep as rhubarb. Green like spring grass. Blue that shimmers like ice on water.”

The morphling is completely encapsulated by his words.

“One time, I spent three days mixing paint until I found the right shade for sunlight on white fur. You see, I kept thinking it was yellow, but it was much more than that. Layers of all sorts of color. One by one.” Peeta murmurs.

Rustling of leaves drags you out of what he’s saying, you look over in time to catch the back of Finnick’s body, heading back into the jungle. You give a glance to Katniss, who seems to be in her own world at the moment, and decide that they can protect themselves for a moment while you have a conversation with Finnick.

You head straight in without an ounce of hesitation, following the sound of muttering, leading you straight to him. He’s picking the arrows out of the grass, swinging them out periodically to rid them of the mutt blood they’re soaked in.

“Listen,” You start, Finnick pauses long enough to look at you, before going back to what he was doing. “I get it, you don’t like me. The feeling’s mutual. I don’t need you up my ass about every decision I make. So, worry about yourself, and I will worry about me.”

“I’m not up your ass.” He scoffs. “I was pointing out what happened. You can’t fight, it’s a fact.”

“It’s not.” You shake your head. “While I was trying to kill the mutt, I was figuring out how to save Peeta, there was a monkey—”

Finnick holds up his hand, cutting you off. “I don’t need your excuse.”

You tilt your head at him, lips parted, actually speechless. You knew Finnick’s personality resembled a dumpster, but you’ve never experienced it yourself. It’s always been second hand retellings from your friends.

“Anything else?” Finnick asks after a moment of silence.

You’re stewing again. It’s insane how easy it would be to tear him down from the horse he sits on, but you can’t afford ruining the alliance. With how he’s acting, you wouldn’t put it past him to throw in the towel and tell you to do it yourself. Which you can do, it’s just a matter of whether or not you’d like to at this point.

While you’re glowering at him, thinking of a response that doesn’t end in the two of you fighting, something moves from behind his head. You take a step to the side, eyes searching the ground, but you quickly realize that’s not where it is. It’s up in the trees.

“What?” Finnick asks.

“We should leave the jungle.” You tell him, not wanting to mention it in case your eyes are playing tricks. “It’s not safe here.”

Finnick digs his heels in. “Now you’re being paranoid.” 

He turns around, going back to rummaging through the greenery to find the arrows for Katniss. He’s already got a good handful already, does she really need the rest? 

A branch dips, your eyes flicker to it.

Even though the sun is finally rising, the light hasn’t quite reached this part of the arena yet. You pat your hip for your sword, afraid of what’s to come, and realize that you left it out on the beach with the Twelve tributes.

“I’m serious, let’s go.” You tell him.

“I don’t care.” He says back, inching closer to the tree.

A hand creeps out of the darkness, a furry hand wrapping around the branch further down, as if preparing itself to launch at him.

You bite the inside of your cheek. You can’t lure Finnick out the same way that Katniss did to Peeta. And you can’t fight your way out of this situation without a weapon. As nice as it would be to turn around and leave him in here, knowing what’s behind him, you’d never be able to live with it.

“Finnick, just trust me this once. Katniss has enough arrows.”

Finnick stands, the movement is too quick, causing the monkey mutt to jerk into the light, revealing itself too soon.

“If you’re scared, you can go back to the beach, (Y/n).”

“Finnick, get down.”

He takes a step toward you, mouth opened to continue what he was saying. You watch in horror as the mutt’s body tenses, getting ready to attack Finnick. You rush at him, the same way the morphling did to Peeta.

“Get out of the way!” You shout, jumping to tackle him.

Finnick turns in time to dodge you and the monkey, putting you into each other’s path, forcing you to collide. The monkey’s claws dig into your skin as it throws you down, your head flying back. A sharp pain strikes your skull, your vision immediately going black.

A rough hand grabs the underside of your arm, jolting you awake. You blink quickly, trying to get rid of the blurry vision as you’re harshly brought back to reality. The person tries to pull you to your feet, but your legs aren’t ready for the weight. Your knees buckle, hand grabbing the shoulder of whoever it is to steady yourself.

The throbbing in the back of your head begins, feeling like a giant headache. You wince, gritting your teeth, pressing the heel of your hand to your temple. The back of your neck feels wet and sticky.

“Can you stand?” An irritated voice asks.

It’s Finnick, face twisted into a hard expression. The grip you have on his shoulder loosens, you lock your knees to keep from falling over. You’re trembling though, you can see it when you let go of him completely.

“Yes, I’ve got it.”

You reach back and dab your hand against the sore area on your head. Your fingers are coated in blood, shining in the sunlight that manages to escape the leaves. A sigh leaves your lips, hand falling at your side.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Finnick asks.

You shrug your shoulders. “There was a monkey in the trees.”

“You couldn’t have told me that?” 

“The same way we could’ve told Peeta?” You counter, and then motion to the jungle. “I didn’t know how many there were. I left my sword on the beach.”

“Another great idea of yours.” He says.

You don’t say anything to him at first, turning to go back to the beach. Just before you hit the treeline, you murmur, “A thank you would be nice.”

Whether or not Finnick actually hears you is a mystery, because he doesn’t respond. 

Katniss and Peeta are sitting together in the sand, side by side, looking out at the water. Your sword is tucked at Katniss’s side, right next to her bow. You come to a stop a foot or so behind them.

Finnick passes you, dropping the arrows in the sand. “Thought you might want these.”

“Thanks.” Katniss says. “Where’s (Y/n)?”

“I’m here.” You tell her.

You continue dragging your feet through the sand, wanting to go to the water to clean the blood out of your hair before it dries. Katniss comes to join you soon after, mostly to clean her weapons. When she sees that you’re having trouble, she carefully massages the blood out.

When you’re done, Katniss goes to get moss from the jungle to dry off her arrows. You sit in the sand with your sword, haphazardly playing with the blade.

“Where did they go?” Katniss asks.

“The bodies? We don’t know exactly. The vines shifted and they were gone.” Finnick says.

Katniss hums. The four of you sit on the beach in silence, staring at the water, watching the sky come to life. Katniss starts to scratch her arm, and then stops suddenly, looking at you, and then to the boys. You follow her gaze curiously, and find them scratching at their faces.

It’s the scabs from the fog, Katniss’s skin is covered in them, so is half of Peeta’s body and Finnick’s face. You, however, not so much. You were able to stay ahead of the fog, you thought to guide them out with the best possible path. Still, Peeta has trouble with his prosthetic leg and he needed support and…

Finnick never should have asked Katniss to carry Mags down the hill. You knew as soon as the words came out of his mouth that he was making a mistake. Katniss doesn’t have that sort of strength, she’s a skinny girl. She might’ve put on some weight since her Games, but it basically replenished what was taken in the first place.

He should’ve asked you. And even though you tried to object, he shut you down and told you to keep running. You didn’t have time to argue with the fog closing in, so you went right back to what you’d been doing before. It wasn’t even three minutes later when Katniss fell with Mags on her, causing Mags to take the situation into her own hands.

She kissed Finnick goodbye and walked into the fog.

None of you have mentioned it since it happened. You would like to say something to Finnick, but you’re sure it wouldn’t go over well with him. You can guess what he’d say back to you, taking none of your feelings about her into consideration. Besides, he seems to be holding it together pretty well, the last thing you’d want to do is accidentally send him over the edge.

“Don’t scratch.” Katniss tells them. “You’ll only bring infection. Think it’s safe to try for the water again?”

You don’t move from where you sit, letting them go back into the jungle to gather water. You’ve already had more than your fair share of injury in the past hour and a half, you’ll let them take their chances.

Peeta brings back a shell of water for you to drink, and even goes back one more time for a refill. You thank him and tuck the shell of water into the sand for later. 

“Why don’t you three get some rest?” Katniss asks. “I’ll watch for a while.”

“No, Katniss, I’d rather.” Finnick says.

There’s a moment of silence, and then Katniss concedes. “All right, Finnick, thanks.”

Katniss and Peeta lay down in the sand, you don’t bother. You turn your back to Finnick to ensure he knows you’re disinterested in conversing with him. You spend the next few hours picking the clumps of bloody sand from your sword and flicking them toward the water.

You’re not entirely sure what Finnick does, and you don’t really care. The more you think about him and the alliance, the more irritated you grow, causing your pounding headache to get worse. 

First, he tells you that he’s going to get you kicked out of the alliance by talking to Haymitch before you, and he nearly does. It’s a good thing that Haymitch doesn’t make rash decisions, otherwise you’d be on your own right now. He was almost convinced that you’d be more harmful than useful to the rebellion.

It wasn’t until Katniss made a comment about how much she trusts you, did he make up his mind and tell Finnick to deal with it. Katniss doesn’t like people easily. It was different for Mags, Wiress and Beetee because they don’t really pose a threat to her, and she doesn’t think that they’d go out of their way to kill her.

With you, all she told Haymitch was that it was easy to talk to you and she didn’t feel like she had to hide her true feelings. Which is an accomplishment and something you can use to your advantage later if needed. For right now, it’s pretty clear what she’s thinking even if she’s doing her best to hide it.

Anyway, Finnick doesn’t like that you don’t have to try with Katniss. And just like he told you in the Training Center, Haymitch had to give him a gold bracelet to symbolise to Katniss that he can be trusted. Which was funny when you found out at the Cornucopia.

Finnick was right, you didn’t make it there first—not that you thought you were anyway—but you did show up a minute later. Katniss was the one that saw you and welcomed you onto the island, despite Finnick trying to tell her not to. 

He’s been pretty pissed and cold since.

By the time Katniss stirs awake, it’s about midmorning. Your sword is clean, the shell cup empty of water, and you’re surprisingly feeling a little bit better. And it appears that Finnick has been busy this entire time.

He’d woven a grass mat and laid it on some branches to shield Katniss and Peeta’s faces from the sun. There’s two bowls full of fresh water, and a third that contains shellfish. 

He sits with them in front of him, cracking shellfish open with a stone. “They’re better fresh.” He tells Katniss, ripping flesh from the shell and popping it in his mouth. His eyes are puffy.

A tang of sadness hits you, you can’t imagine how difficult it’d been for him to cry silently with you sitting so close. His eyes lock with yours briefly before you turn away, getting to your feet. You brush the sand from your skin.

Katniss goes to reach for one of the shells but stops. She then holds her fingers close to her face, observing the blood beneath her nails.

“You know, if you scratch you’ll bring on infection.” Finnick says.

“That’s what I’ve heard.” She says, getting up to wash the blood off in the water. She stomps back up to you two a moment later. “Hey, Haymitch, if you’re not too drunk, we could use a little something for our skin.” She tells the sky.

A second later, a parachute swings out of the jungle, heading for her. She reaches up to catch a tube in her hands. “About time.” She says, going to sit next to Finnick in the sand. 

She unscrews the lid, squeezing the thick, dark ointment into her palm. Her face twists, whether it be from the color or the smell, and then begins to massage it into her leg. A sigh escapes her while she closes her eyes.

“It’s like you’re decomposing.” Finnick says after she hands him the tube. But looks must not matter to him for the moment, because he gives in and starts to treat his skin as well.

“Poor Finnick. Is this the first time in your life you haven’t looked pretty?” Katniss teases.

“It must be. The sensation’s completely new. How have you managed it all these years?” He asks back.

“Just avoid mirrors. You’ll forget about it.”

“Not if I keep looking at you.” 

Katniss offers the tube to you, but you hold up your hand, shaking your head. “I’ll be fine, save it for yourselves.”

“You’ve got a couple spots.” She motions.

“I’m good, really. But thank you.”

You swing your sword, and then wander away from them, trying to put some more distance so you can sit alone for a while longer. They wake Peeta up a few minutes later, and then you can hear the cracking of shells against rocks. You don’t bother to join them for the meal, you’re still full from last night.

You draw shapes in the sand, smooth them over to start over, and then write names. It isn’t until you’re on the third one, do you realize it's the names of dead tributes that you’ve mentored recently. You stare at them, mystified as to why you’ve chosen them, of all the people you know.

A scream from across the arena interrupts the silence of the arena. Your head jerks up, eyes searching the trees beyond the Cornucopia to find the source. A wedge of the jungle begins to vibrate, a huge wave crests over the trees, coming down the hill. You get to your feet, sword clutched tightly in your hand as you watch the wave hit the center water, and distribute evenly over the Cornucopia.

The wave that comes toward you reaches your knees, going as far back as the treeline, before retreating back to the center lake. Katniss, Peeta and Finnick gather their belongings before they float away. 

A cannon fires. The hovercraft appears over where the water had come from, dipping down to collect the body. The claw comes back with the body, and that’s the last you see of the hovercraft.

You go to sit back down when Katniss’s head whips in your direction. “There.”

You turn your head, curious as to what she’s found. It’s three people stumbling on the beach, one of them being dragged onto the beach by the second, and the third is wandering in circles. They’re red, blood red.

“(Y/n), get back here.” Finnick hisses.

You don’t move from where you are, squinting at the figures.

“Who is that?” Peeta asks. “Or what? Muttations?”

The second person dragging the first suddenly drops the body, throwing their arms down at their sides and stomping their foot in anger—a move that you recognize from someone else, but can’t place your finger on. It isn’t until the person marches over to the third one to shove them over, do you realize.

“Johanna!” You shout, delighted. “Finally!”

“(Y/n)!” She replies.

You run toward her, sword swinging at your side, excited that you’re not stuck with Finnick by yourself anymore. Johanna will be able to act as a buffer between the two of you, and she’ll be able to shut him down when he gets mouthy with you now. 

You throw your sword to the side, slamming into a hug with Johanna. The two of you rotate, her laugh is musical in your ear. You’re so happy that she’s alive, you don’t know what you’d do without her.

When you pull away, you motion at her. “What are you covered in?”

Finnick walks up beside you, “Hey, Johanna.”

“Finnick.” She says, and then she motions to the jungle. “We thought it was rain, you know, because of the lightning, and we were all so thirsty. But when it started coming down, it turned out to be blood. Thick, hot blood. You couldn’t see, you couldn’t speak without getting a mouthful. We just staggered around, trying to get out of it. That’s when Blight hit the force field.”

A small gasp comes from you as you cover your mouth. “Johanna, I am so sorry.”

“Yeah, well, he wasn’t much, but he was from home.” She sighs. “And he left me alone with these two.” She nudges Beetee with her foot, he doesn’t seem to acknowledge it at all. “He got a knife in the back at the Cornucopia. And her—”

Wiress has gotten back to her feet, wandering, murmuring, “Tick, tock. Tick, tock.”

“Yeah, we know. Tick, tock. Nuts is in shock.” She rolls her eyes, but at the mention of Wiress’s nickname, she’s drawn to Johanna, placing her hands on her. Johanna shoves her down to the beach. “Just stay down, will you?”

Lay off her.” Katniss snaps.

Johanna’s eyes narrow at her. “Lay off her?” She hisses. In an instant, she raises her hand and goes to slap Katniss, but you’re able to grab her wrist before she’s successful, pulling Johanna away from her.  “Who do you think got them out of that bleeding jungle for you? You—”

Finnick steps in, tossing Johanna over his shoulder, forcing you to let go of her while he brings her to the water. You listen and watch as she screams some really insulting words at Katniss, and then Finnick drops her into the water to silence her. He does this until she goes quiet.

Katniss and Peeta take Beetee and Wiress to the water to clean the blood off of them, since they’re both incapable of doing it themselves. You wander to join Finnick and Johanna in the water, despite the unwelcoming glares you receive from Finnick.

—

“Get up.” Katniss suddenly orders, shaking Peeta, Finnick and Johanna awake. “Get up—we have to move.”

It’s about noon, judging by how the sun is positioned directly overhead in the sky. It’s been a relatively quiet morning these past couple hours, mostly because the entire group has spent it napping on the beach. For a while, you were sitting with both Johanna and Katniss, but Johanna eventually got tired and laid down on the beach.

You’re not entirely sure why Katniss suddenly feels the need to move. The only event that has happened recently is an announcement of sorts from the Gamemakers. A bell tolled twelve times like it had late last night, and the lightning started again. It must mean something to her, because she stood up to look around the arena.

“What is it?” Johanna slaps Katniss’s hand away.

“I think the arena works like a clock.” She says, Peeta rubs the sleep out of his eyes, while Finnick squints at the surrounding jungle. “(Y/n), you remember last night when the bell tolled?”

“Yeah.” You pull your knees to your chest, watching her.

“It was because it was midnight, and the start of the clock.”

“Twelve bongs.” Finnick murmurs.

“Yes.” She nods. “Wiress figured it out first, that’s why she’s tick-tocking. She’s trying to tell us the arena’s a clock.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” Johanna says, shaking her head. 

“It does.” Katniss tells her. “Lightning at midnight, blood rain at two, poisonous fog at three, monkey mutts at four…” She trails off, assuming you get what she’s saying. 

Peeta’s nodding, looking down at the sand. “It’d explain why we had to deal with the fog and monkeys back-to-back.”

“So what’s going to happen now, then?” Johanna asks.

“Blood rain.” Finnick tells her.

The group of you sit in silence for a moment, digesting this. If she’s right, then that does mean you have to move, or at least get to a point in the arena where you can observe. After that, you could move from wedge to wedge to avoid what lurks in the jungle.

“What should we do, then?” Peeta asks.

“We need to move, get out of the way.” You say, looking at Katniss. “The Cornucopia?”

“That’s not a bad idea.” Johanna agrees.

Katniss nods. 

You break apart, going to collect your belongings out of the sand, securing them to your body to carry them with you. Finnick and Peeta work together to get Beetee back into his jumpsuit, now clean of blood. 

Katniss goes to wake Wiress, who’s been murmuring in her sleep this entire time. She jolts awake, grabbing onto Katniss’s arms tightly. “Tick, tock!”

“Yes, tick, tock, the arena’s a clock. It’s a clock, Wiress, you were right.” She tells her. “You were right.”

Wiress relaxes considerably, nodding a little. “Midnight.”

“It starts at midnight.” Katniss confirms.

Wiress nods at one of the wedges. “One-thirty.”

“Exactly. One-thirty. And at two, a terrible poisonous fog begins there.” Katniss says, pointing at a different area of the jungle. “So we have to move somewhere safe now.” Wiress smiles and stands. “Are you thirsty?”

As soon as the woven bowl is handed over to her, Wiress gulps it down. Finnick gives her some of the bread from a sponsorship you missed, she slowly chews on it. From what you can see, it’s the salty seaweed bread from District Four. Yuck.

You hand Katniss her weapons, watching her secure the spile and the tube of medicine to a square cloth of a parachute before using a vine to tie it to her belt. 

Beetee’s not entirely conscious, so Peeta goes to lift him out of the sand, causing him to stir and become deadweight. “Wire.”

“She’s right here.” Peeta says. “Wiress is fine. She’s coming, too.”

Beetee tries to push Peeta off of him. “Wire.”

“Oh, I know what he wants.” Johanna rolls her eyes, crossing the beach to pick up a cylinder. It’s still covered in a thick layer of blood, making it impossible for you to see what it is. “This worthless thing. It’s some kind of wire or something. THa’ts how he got cut. Running up to the Cornucopia to get this. I don’t know what kind of weapon it’s supposed to be. I guess you could pull off a piece and use it as a garrote or something. But really, can you imagine Beetee garroting somebody?”

You snort, she tilts her head.

“He won his Games with wire. Setting up that electrical trap.” Peeta tells her. “It’s the best weapon he could have.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Katniss chimes in. “Seems like you’d have figured that out.” She says slowly. “SInce you nicknamed him Volts and all.”

Johanna’s eyes narrow in her direction. “Yeah, that was really stupid of me, wasn’t it?” She asks. “I guess I must have been distracted by keeping your little friends alive. While you were… what, again? Getting Mags killed off?”

The air becomes hard to breathe, you steal a glance at Finnick out of the corner of your eye and find his eyebrows drawn in, thinking. You can’t believe Johanna just threw that out in the open. 

Katniss’s hand grips the knife on her belt.

“Go ahead. Try it. I don’t care if you are knocked up, I’ll rip your throat out.” Johanna tilts her head.

“Maybe we all had better be careful where we step.” Finnick says, trying to calm the situation. He gives Katniss a look, taking the coil from Johanna to set it on Beetee’s chest. “There’s your wire, Volts. Watch where you plug it.”

This allows Peeta to pick up Beetee without an issue. “Where to?”

“To the Cornucopia, like (Y/n) said.” Finnick says. “I’d like to watch. Just to make sure we’re right about the clock.”

One at a time, you approach the nearest sand strip, heading to the center island. You take up the very back with Johanna, who has her arms crossed, seething. Or maybe not, you can’t see her face at the moment. Every time Katniss tries to call her out for her behavior, you know they get closer to considering killing each other. 

The Cornucopia is barren of any Careers, allowing you to spread out and pick where you’d like to be in the mouth. The weapons that remain have been thoroughly picked-over, the only thing you could possibly grab now are knives. You don’t really have any specialty weapons. You had to teach yourself how to fight with a sword.

Peeta lays Beetee in the small bit of shae that does exist. As soon as Beetee’s comfortable, he calls over Wiress. She crouches beside him, and he hands over the coil of wire. “Clean it, will you?”

Wiress nods, and hurries over to the edge of the island. She dunks the coil in the water, quietly singing a song to herself about a mouse running up a clock.

“Oh, not the song again.” Johanna groans, throwing her head back. “That went on for hours before she started tick-tocking.”

She suddenly stops, standing up straight, coil of water in her hand, dripping watery blood onto the black rock. She points to the jungle. “Two.”

You look to where she’s pointing, and find a wall of fog seeping out onto the beach. 

“Yes, look, Wiress is right. It’s two o’clock and the fog has started.”

“Like clockwork.” Peeta says. “You were very smart to figure that out, Wiress.”

All she does is smile, and then she goes right back to singing and cleaning. “Oh, she’s more than smart.” Beetee says, coming back to life. “She’s intuitive. She can sense things before anyone else. Like a canary in one of your coal mines.”

“What’s that?” Finnick asks.

“It’s a bird that we take down into the mines to warn us if there’s bad air.” Katniss explains.

“What’s it do, die?” Johanna asks morbidly.

“It stops signing first. That’s when you should get out. But if the air’s too bad, it dies, yes. And so do you.”

This is clearly a topic of conversation that Katniss doesn’t want to participate in, so it drops. Johanna turns to head inside of the Cornucopia, flicking her short hair over her shoulder. Katniss and Finnick follow soon after, going to stock up their weapons.

Johanna comes out with a pair of axes, looking over the blades with a fairly impressed look. She then swings the axe forward, at the golden walls of the Cornucopia. Since it’s been softened by the sun, the blade sticks. Johanna grabs it with one hand and yanks it out.

You watch as Peeta draws a circle with his machete on a large leaf he took from the jungle. He seems to draw a map of the arena, with the jungle and beach having its own sections. And then he divides the circle into wedges. “Look at how the Cornucopia’s positioned.”

Katniss comes over to look, “The tail points toward twelve o’clock.”

“Right, so this is the top of our clock.” He says, going on to write the numbers one through twelve around his circle. “Twelve to one is the lightning zone.” He writes lightning in small print in the wedge, working clockwise to add blood, fog, and monkeys to the next three sections.

“And ten to twelve is the wave.” Katniss says, he writes it in. 

Finnick and Johanna come to see what they’re doing now. Tridents, axes and knives hanging off their bodies. Johanna pulls one of her knives from her belt, twisting it in her hand, holding the handle out to you.

You take it from her, holding it in your hands while you watch Peeta.

“Did you notice anything unusual in the others?” Katniss asks JOhanna and Beetee, but they haven’t experienced anything other than the blood. “I guess they could hold anything.”

“I’m going to mark the ones where we know the Gamemakers’ weapon follows us out past the jungle, so we’ll stay clear of those.” Peeta murmurs, drawing diagonal lines on the fog and wave beaches. He then sits back. “Well, it’s a lot more than we knew this morning, anyway.”

You look over the clock in silence.

Silence.

Your eyes dart up, and you find that Katniss is one step ahead of you, an arrow armed on her bow, pointed at a soaking wet Gloss. Wiress is sliding toward the ground, her throat slit open, it’ll be impossible to save her. The arrow slams into his temple, killing him instantly. Johanna is already on her feet, swinging her axe into Cashmere’s chest. 

The sound of sand crunching beneath boots causes your head to whip in the direction, finding Brutus and Enobaria running up the other side. A spear drawn back in Brutus’s hand, aimed in your direction. 

And furthermore, Finnick’s.

“Get out of the fucking way!” You scream, shoving Finnick down.

The both of you hit the sand, the spear whizzing right over your heads, where you had been standing seconds prior. It slams into the golden Cornucopia, the entire head buried in the structure. Brutus had thrown it with enough force to kill you both in an instant.

Two arrows are sent back by Katniss in retaliation, but neither of them must land, because she jerks forward to chase after them. Three cannons blast in quick succession, confirming three dead; Wiress, Gloss and Cashmere. 

Katniss disappears around the mouth, with Johanna and Peeta right behind her. You and Finnick are just picking yourselves out of the sand when the ground jerks beneath you. Your shoulder slams into the sand, and then you begin to quickly roll, as the rock island that the Cornucopia sits on begins to spin, fast.

You desperately reach out, trying to find a ridge to dig your fingers into, but you only come up with handfuls of sand. The jungle has turned into a blur of green and beige as you pick up speed, water turning to mist in the air.

You’re almost at the edge of the rock when a hand clamps around your ankle, stopping you from falling off. You’re left to face the water, dizziness beginning to overcome you, until you slam to a sudden stop.

The urge to vomit rises up your stomach quickly. You yank your ankle free from whoever it is that has a hold of you, quickly crawling to the edge to puke up water and bile into the water. You try to close your eyes to make yourself feel better, but all it does is speed up the rate that you’re spinning.

The throbbing in your head returns in full swing.

When you finally finish gagging over the rock, you pick yourself up from the sand, wiping it from your skin. The others have gathered together at the mouth of the Cornucopia, just as disheveled as you are. 

“Where’s Volts?” Johanna asks.

You sit down while they circle the Cornucopia to confirm he’s off of the island. Finnick apparently spots him about twenty feet out in the water, and dives in to retrieve him. Katniss, on the other hand, finds Wiress in the water, the coil still clutched tightly in her hands.

“Cover me.” She tells Johanna, racing down the strip closest to her body before diving in. She swims hard, battling the hovercraft on who will get to Wiress’s body first. She reaches her first, working to loosen Wiress’s fingers, and then comes back to the center island.

By the time she makes it, Wiress is gone, as well as the two other bodies that were floating in the water. Finnick lays Beetee down in the sand, letting him get a hold of himself again. Katniss places the wire in his lap, now clean of blood, sparkling in the sunlight.

Beetee unravels a small bit of the wire, running his fingers over it. It’s a pale golden color, and it’s incredibly thin. You know Johanna was joking about him using it to garrotte people but it would be completely impossible to. As soon as you’d tighten it, it would snap. 

For a while, you sit in silence together, catching your breath, wringing the water out of your clothes or shaking sand out of your clothes. When it appears as though you’re ready to move on, Johanna stands. “Let’s get off this stinking island.”

You’re forced to recollect your weapons, since they had been strewn across the island due to the spinning. Your sword and the knife Johanna handed you are relatively easy to find. While the others have to take a moment to dig.

Beetee tells Peeta that he thinks he can walk now, as long as he’s patient and willing to go slow. It’s better than carrying him again, so Peeta helps bring him to his feet. It’s then decided you all should go to the beach at twelve o’clock, because it should give you several hours before you have to face the jungle again.

Peeta, Johanna and Finnick head off in three different directions.

“Twelve o’clock, right?” Peeta asks. “The tail point at twelve.”

“Before they spun us.” Finnick reasons. “I was judging by the sun.”

“The sun only tells you it’s going on four, Finnick.”

“I think Katniss’s point is, knowing the time doesn’t mean you necessarily know where four is on the clock. You might have a general idea of the direction. Unless you consider that they may have shifted the outer ring of the jungle as well.” Beetee says.

You squint, face twisted. You would hope the Gamemakers didn’t shift the jungle too, that would give the entire secret of the clock away, wouldn’t it? But then again, you guess it doesn’t matter. 

“Yes, so any one of these paths could lead to twelve o’clock.” Katniss says, offering you a shrug when you look at her.

You circle around the Cornucopia as a group, picking out every detail of the jungle, only to discover that each wedge has been almost perfectly replicated. Katniss says something about how there was a tall tree in the lightning section that stood out, but now she can’t find it.

Johanna suggests following Enobaria and Brutus’s footsteps, but the sand has been blown away completely from the wind. Katniss lets out a heavy sigh, “I should have never mentioned the clock. Now they’ve taken that advantage away as well.”

“Only temporarily.” Beetee says. “At ten, we’ll see the wave again and be back on track.”

“Yes, they can’t redesign the whole arena.” Peeta says, trying to make her feel better.

“It doesn’t matter.” Johanna’s tone impatient. “You had to tell us or we never would have moved our camp in the first place, brainless.” She pops a hip out, crossing her arms. “Come on, I need water. Anyone have a good gut feeling?”

A path is chosen at random. At the beach, they peer into the jungle, trying to judge what could be inside.

“Well, it must be monkey hour. And I don’t see any of them in there.” Peeta shrugs. “I’m going to try to tap a tree.”

“No, it’s my turn.” Finnick objects.

“I’ll at least watch your back.” Peeta offers.

“(Y/n) can do that.” Johanna waves her hand. “We need you to make another map. The other washed away.” She yanks one of the leaves off of a tree to hand it to him.

“Wait, I didn’t agree to this.” You make a face, shaking your head.

“Then Katniss can go with you to keep the peace.” Johanna motions, Katniss nods.

You smile at her, but send a glare in Johanna’s direction, irritated that she’s already working to pair you and Finnick together. You’re tired of his presence and being forced to talk to him. You liked it yesterday when he was stubborn and refused to talk to you the entire day unless he had to.

Either way, you have no choice now. Finnick leads the way into the jungle. About fifteen yards in, he stops in front of a tree that looks like it’ll give you a good stream of water. He then holds his hand out, “Knife.”

“You have your own.” You tell him.

“Johanna gave you the best one.” He says, fingers beckoning for the knife. “It’s thinner.”

“You’ll make it dull.”

“Don’t be a pain.”

“Use your own knife.”

“No, I’m not ruining my own knives.”

“So you’ll ruin mine instead? Don’t you have like ten of them?” You motion at his belt. “Choose one of them.”

“I don’t want any of those.”

“You do realize that the knife is the only weapon I have beside my sword, right? You’re carrying like three different tridents, why don’t you use one of those?”

Finnick’s face twists at you. “Don’t tell me you’re actually that dense.”

“No, but you are.” You tilt your head at him.

Katniss shakes her head. “I know why Johanna sent me in here now.”

You look over your shoulder. “You can go, Katniss. We won’t kill each other.”

She purses her lips, thinking. “I’ve got to pee, so I’ll do that and come back.”

“Sounds like a deal.” Finnick tells her.

Katniss wanders off with her bow, heading deeper into the jungle, completely out of your sight. You look back at Finnick, who still has his hand out, waiting for your knife. You grab it begrudgingly, placing it in his hand. 

He starts to drill into the tree with the tip of your knife, ruining it immediately. You’ll get him back for this later. You’re not sure how, because trying to use his trident would make you look stupid. Maybe you’ll steal a knife off of him when he’s sleeping, since he seems to place a lot of trust in the others to watch over him.

The silence between you and Finnick is fine for the first few minutes, but you really don’t like standing over him like this without saying anything. You clear your throat, turning your body away so you don’t have to look at him.

“I’m sorry about Mags.” You tell him. “I didn’t know her well, but she was always kind to me when I was with her. I can’t imagine how you’re feeling.”

“I’m fine.” Finnick tells you. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not.” You shake your head. “I should’ve taken Mags during the fog, I could’ve carried her.”

“It wouldn’t have made a difference.” He mutters. “Either she died during the fog, or the monkeys, or even the Cornucopia. At least she didn’t suffer.”

You hum. “I guess that’s true.”

There’s a few beats of silence, and then he sighs. “You’ve saved my life twice now.”

You make a noise, not really interested in this topic. All he’s going to do is start keeping score. You’ll even bet he’s going to tell you he doesn’t want to be in your debt.

“Hardly.” You tell him.

“You saved me from the monkey in the jungle, and if you hadn’t moved me out of the way, I could’ve died because of the spear.”

“We could’ve died.” You correct him. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is.” Finnick says, he stops drilling into the tree to look at you. “I was wrong when I said that you’d get in the way.”

You shrug, not really feeling the need to thank him. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry.” He tells you. “Really.”

“Forget about it.” 

[fictionalmenxyn]

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲

Pairing: dealer!rafe x reader

Warnings: mentions of drugs (weed, molly and vaping), language, pda

꧁꧂

It was thriving, Topper once again throwing another banger of a party. It was living it up in his family’s home. The lights, the music the overall vibe. The boys and you all agreed that this summer would be like no other. Living this summer like it’s your last.

You wore your favourite black tube top with your white halter top underneath along with your short white tube skirt and a pair of military black Jordan 4s. Along with some jewellery. Looking like the perfect girl in the world tonight. Well, to Rafe anyways.

You thrived, this was your element. While you danced with your friends. Rafe sat with Topper and Kelce. Towards the backyard on those outdoor couches.

Rafe could see you through the crowd. To him you were like a beacon of light. Your presence brining out a side of him he’d never get with anyone else.

He and the guys have done a few deals through the night. Making bank as they usually did.

You walked over to the guys after having just refilled your drink. You called out “hey guys!” The boys let out a low whistle. Rafe grinned, moving his hand to your hips as you stood between his legs. He looked up at you “how’re you doing, pretty?” You smiled and nodded “good, good… how’s the dealing?” Topper added “alright, bit as much as we th-”

You stuck your hand out to Rafe “hand some over, I’ll help ya out.” You sipped out of your red solo cup. Rafe grinned and the other two widen their eyes. Kelce said “nah we can’t get you to deal…” you shrugged “it’s fine, I can do it.” Rafe looked up at you. “Make sure you come straight back here, yeah? And if anyone gives you shit call me, got it?”

You nod, as he reached into his backpack he had on the ground next to the couch. He pulled out a couple bags of weed and molly. Rafe added “oh and if anyone wants vapes, tell them to come to the backyard and look for us.” You nodded.

Leaning down you pecked Rafe’s lips. Putting the weed and molly packets into your handbag. As you turn around to walk off, Rafe smacks your ass. You roll your eyes at his usual action.

Later on in the night you return. Walking over. Topper noticed you first “how’d it go?”

You grinned both evilly and proudly. You opened your handbag, taking your vape and phone out first. You put that on the couch next to Rafe. Then you tipped your handbag upside down and dump a load of cash onto Rafe’s lap.

Rafe’s eyes widen “fuck, doll, that’s a fuck ton of cash…” Rafe started to count the cash as you spoke “they gave me extra, I didn’t even ask, guess I’m just lucky.” You shrug casually.

Rafe looked up to you “you made three ‘kay?? I didn’t even give you that much stuff to sell…” Kelce lets out a low whistle “damn, maybe she is a good luck charm.”

You told Rafe “oh also I’m pretty sure I got you three some regular customers. I didn’t give them your actual contacts, so I gave them your number accounts on Snapchat, that okay?”

Rafe smirked, the other two nodded eagerly. Rafe put the money into elastic bands and put the cash into the backpack. He patted his lap “c’mere, babe.” You sat in his lap.

He gently grabbed your jaw, making you look at him. His other hand placed on your hip, lowly.

He smirked and moved so his lips were close to you. He praised “good job, baby, might have you do it more often. So proud, my little dealer.” He pecked your lips. He added “also got cherry papers and vape juice for my cherry lady.” He playfully winks at you as you thank him.

He kisses you, not giving a fuck who sees. At the end of the day he’d actually prefer that, showing that you’re his. His cherry lady.

As you two both kiss, Kelce joked “get a room you two.” Rafe didn’t even look in Kelce’s direction when he playfully flipped him off. Keeping his half-lidded eyes on you and your lips as he spoke to him “shut up, bro, go find a girl and get laid.” Rafe went straight back to kissing you.

Topper chuckles “dude you can’t keep your hands off of her.” Rafe pulled away but stayed close to your face. He side eyed Topper “dude, will you two quit complaining. Go catch a ride or some shit, let us be.” Rafe looked you up and down and whispered to you “look so good, ma, should take you home tonight… let you do what you want, hm? You’d like that, huh? You’ve been such a good girl f’me… helping me sell and shit…”

His hand on your hip moved to your ass, gently massaging it. You chuckle softly “oh yeah? You’d seriously let me do that?” He hummed “yeah, proud of ya, let you do whatever you want, you make it, you get it..”

Rafe pulled out his vape from his shorts pocket. Taking a hit and moving his lips near yours. Blowing the smoke into your mouth as you take it back. You then blow the smoke back out. Rafe loved doing that with you. Smoke kisses were one of his things that got him going. And knowing his girl who was the hottest person in his eyes could do such things with him? Made him weak to the core.

You move and whisper in his ear, knowing it would get him riled up. You whisper “wanna go now and I’ll show you?” He smirked and whispered back “yeah, fuck… god, wanna do so much to you. Let’s get outta here, hm?”

You nodded, standing up, Rafe stood after you. Tugging your skirt down a little as he noticed two guys looking at your ass. Topper playfully rolled his eyes and said sarcastically “bye then you two, leaving Kelce and I to go fuck… damn, what friend you two are.” You smirked. Looking over to Topper you said “Brooke is waiting for you upstairs, she told me to tell you.”

Topper’s eyes almost popped out of his hair “wait, for real???” You nodded “don’t keep her waiting. Topper practically leaped out of his seat and heading into the house. Just as he did that a girl approached Kelce.

So technically you two were ditching them. Rafe took your hand in his as he guided you through the crowded house and out to the front.

You were both in for a long night, a very very enjoyable one.

꧁꧂

(If u want for dealer!rafe, reqs are open)

[amorchai]

𝐔𝐍𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒. ─ j.p

pairing(s): jake peralta x female!detective!reader

summary: it's you and jake's first case together as a couple, only for the plan to go pear-shaped.

words: 953

warnings/tags: female!reader, kidnapping ( made it as minimal as possible ), established relationship, worry.

it was very rare for the squad to see jake peralta worried. very rare. only at times where his morning bagel fell onto the floor or the street dog wasn’t waiting outside after a long shift but apart from that everyone was used to seeing goofy-carefree jake.

so when jake had ran into the precinct, wide eyed and fast paced, not one limerick falling from his lips as he almost fell into the door leading to captain holt’s office – the squad knew something was wrong.

terry followed swiftly; half-eaten yoghurt left behind to listen to the information, it was clear jake was pleading to the captain, wondering why you weren’t by his side. rosa and boyle follow his frame curiously while amy tries to lipread the captain’s responses.

one of your first cases together as a couple had gone pear-shaped. you had insisted to go in as bait – talk to the drug-ringleader and try to sneak some case-altering information. jake had argued at first, not wanting you in that position but he also advocated as a major feminist so when you said you were just as strong as a man, he immediately agreed.

however, the plan you had set out didn’t work, jake sitting at the other side of the earpiece – in the dirty van parked up front. he was unaware of the gun held to your head while the criminal wordlessly gestured for you to take out the earpiece.

when the sound muffled into white noise, jake started tapping his earpiece, “y/n? y/n!” he kept saying but there was nothing but lousy feedback. jake immediately storms the building, gun in hand and bullet-proof vest into the lonely room filled with nothing but a smashed earpiece on the ground.

which led him to the captain’s room, alerting him on the situation. “you said this was supposed to be a low-contact stake-out, why did you deem it smart to send our detective in there, unarmed, and without a squad waiting?” holt was furious, terry raising his hand to try and calm down the situation.

“we can try to track security footage, find out where they took her, captain. we only need a few hours-” jake pulls a face, “nuh-uh, i’m not waiting three hours while my girlfriend’s stuck with him.”

“look, i get it but what else can we do, peralta?” asks terry. jake looks to holt who shrugs, a hint of pure fear and disbelief in his own eyes worrying your boyfriend more than he’s ever felt.

jake sighs, “what if we check out the other location he’s known to sell? it's an abandoned warehouse just outside the city – get a squad together, storm the place to see.”

holt nods, “yes. meanwhile we’ll have a couple of detectives head down to the last place, find some cctv footage just in case it’s a dead-end. let’s get a group together now.”

there was a very quick briefing, holt assigning people jobs in order to get their detective back safely and before jake knew it he was in the back of a cop van with the same bullet-proof vest on. his mind spinning with agitation.

“hey,” jake looks to his side where rosa’s voice cuts in, “she’s gonna be fine, man. she’s a great cop.” jake nods, “i know, she’s the best, but this is all my fault i shouldn’t have let her go in herself.”

the van stops, doors opening to lead everyone outside to the abandoned warehouse. “she’s gonna be fine,” rosa reassures once more, and jake hopes to god his friend is right, jumping out of the van and catching up to the group.

holt leads, glancing into one of the broken windows before gesturing jake, terry, and amy towards the front door while the rest go round the small back space. the walkie talky that sits on amy’s vest muffles quietly, “on three.”

the moment amy says three, jake kicks the bolted door and aims his gun, “hands in the air!” a mix of voices scream into the room. several men raise their hands, one with a gun in his hand jake recognises as the leader – but all he focuses on is you.

you’re sat on a chair, you look unharmed but shaken up and jake wants to immediately run over but is forced to wait as captain holt shouts to the criminals, “put your gun down and put your hands above your head.”

you’re watching jake and jake’s watching you, small steps forward before each men are being cuffed until he sprints over towards you – meeting you in a bone-crushing hug. “i was only gone four hours,” jake admires your way to chuckle in this moment and he nuzzles his nose into your neck, holding the back of your head.

“are you alright, babe?” jake asks, pulling back to look at you properly. “yeah. the only thing he did was push me into the car but apart from that i’m okay.”

your giggle is cut off with a long kiss, jake holding your face as he desperately moves his lips against yours, mumbling a low, “i’m sorry.” you pull back, eyebrows frowning and hands shaking against his chest, “why are you sorry?”

“it’s my fault, i should never have agreed for you to go in alone. next time we are going to play it safe and-” before he can continue, you’re kissing jake again, shakily but causing him to melt anyway. you hold his hand as you’re all guided out, “maybe if i wasn’t such a good feminist…” jake trails off, eyes gazing hopeful towards you but all you do is amusingly shake your head and nudge your boyfriend, kissing his cheek as your glad to be back beside him

amorchai masterlist . taglist

amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.

[avonnimimi]

❀·°∗✧🌸✧∗°·❀

Sativa

The Series. Part: 1 | 2 |

☥| a/n: It’s starting guyssss, for those who are wondering if i will be finishing plugged, i will, when i get inspiration for the next chapter, but this idea has been clouding my mindddd. Also there will be a key at the end for those who don’t understand weed terms lmao ;). @sultrydolli @sevyscoven @koipuddle MEN AND MINORS DNI

☥| content: drug dealer!ellie x reader, loser!ellie, mean!ellie, weed, college au, shy/innocent reader, peer pressure, cursing. lmk if i missed anything yall.

“If you want some good shit, check Ellie.”

The words looped in your head, over and over, like a mantra you didn’t want to believe. You’d never smoked weed before, but a lost bet meant you had to “break out of your shell.” The idea of it felt ridiculous, but here you were, psyching yourself up to approach her.

Ellie had been in your class for two months, maybe longer, but you’d never paid her any real attention. She sat in the back, hood up, earbuds in, half-hidden in her own world. You always wondered if she could even hear the lectures. But somehow, she still managed to be second in class; right behind you.

The thought of her being that sharp sent a prickle down your spine as you risked a glance her way.

The bell rang, jolting you out of your thoughts. Ellie was already packing up, her movements slow, like she wasn’t in a rush for anything. You scrambled to shove your things into your bag, but by the time you looked up again, she was already out the door.

You chased after her, but the pounding in your chest wasn’t just from the effort, it was nerves. Your footsteps slowed, hesitating, and you followed her at a distance like some awkward ghost.

Ellie turned a corner and slipped into the old bathroom no one used anymore. The one everyone said was haunted. A chill ran up your spine, stupid thoughts creeping in. Was she the ghost haunting it?

You shook your head, trying to snap out of it. Don’t be dumb.

You pushed the door open cautiously, immediately hit by the thick, pungent scent of weed. Smoke clouded your vision, making your throat burn as you coughed.

“The fuck…?” a voice drawled.

Ellie was on the floor with three others, a blunt pinched between her fingers. All four pairs of eyes locked on you, their expressions ranging from surprised to amused. You felt every ounce of your awkwardness sink into your chest like lead.

“Uh… Ellie? Can I talk to you?” you stammered, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

One of the guys nudged Ellie’s shoulder, grinning like he was in on some joke. She sighed, rolling her eyes before standing and flicking the blunt away. Her movements were lazy, almost bored, but the way her gaze landed on you made your stomach flip.

“What’s a girl like you doing here?” Her voice was low, teasing, and laced with mockery.

Your frown started to form, the urge to defend yourself rising, but one look at the sharpness in her eyes shut you down.

“I… I got dared to smoke. And they told me you had the best stuff,” you blurted, trying to keep your voice steady. You even threw on what you thought was your “tough” voice, but it fell flat under her amused stare.

Ellie’s laughter cut through the silence, loud and unrestrained. Her friends joined in, their chuckles stinging more than you cared to admit.

Heat flushed your face, and the embarrassment made you want to crawl out of your skin. You wanted to turn around, walk out, and pretend this never happened.

But then Ellie stepped closer, smirking down at you. “Alright, sweetheart. Let’s see if you can handle it.”

She grabs your hand and yanks you into one of the stalls, the door slamming shut behind you. From outside, one of Ellie’s friends lets out a sharp whistle, followed by a round of obnoxious clapping.

Ellie rolls her eyes, her voice lazy and drawn out. “Relax, guys. Goodie two-shoes aren’t my type.” Her words are slow, slurred, she’s definitely high.

And yet, they sting. Her dismissal settles like a weight in your chest, but before you can dwell on it, she’s already in motion.

She pushes you down onto the closed toilet seat and stands over you, close enough to feel the heat of her presence. A hand appears under the stall, clutching a small blunt. Ellie snatches it up, fishing a lighter from her pocket with practiced ease.

Your hands tremble slightly as she lights it. For a moment, you think she’s going to pass it to you. But no. She takes a deep, slow drag, her eyes narrowing as she holds the smoke. Then, without warning, she grabs your face.

“Open,” she commands.

You blink, confused, until she adds, “Your mouth.”

Hesitant, you do as she says. She sighs, annoyed, exhaling the smoke she’d been holding. It slips out between her lips, wasted. She takes another drag, leaning in closer this time.

Your heart stutters, thinking she’s about to kiss you. But instead, she exhales directly into your mouth, her breath thick and heavy with smoke. She pulls back and gestures for you to close your mouth and inhale.

You try, you really do, but it catches in your throat. The result is a violent coughing fit that sends Ellie into a fit of laughter.

“Cute,” she mutters under her breath, her voice low and teasing.

You’re already lightheaded. The stale, heavy air in the bathroom is thick with smoke, the whole space a makeshift hotbox. Your head feels cloudy, your limbs loose.

“Here,” Ellie says, her tone softer now. She explains how to inhale, demonstrating again. This time, when she leans in and blows the smoke into your mouth, you get it right.

It hits fast. Your brain buzzes, your body hums. You look up at her, and before you can stop yourself, you smile.

Ellie smirks, her eyes flickering with something you can’t quite place. “Not bad,” she murmurs.

Ellie doesn't stop. Every drag she takes, she's blowing it into your mouth, and you're inhaling it like it's the only thing keeping you alive, even though your head is spinning, and your chest feels heavy. But it's her; you can't stop. Her lips so close, the heat of her breath, the way she watches you like she owns you.

You're barely holding it together, blinking slow, lips parted, breath shaky. "You good?" she mutters, low, almost teasing, as she pulls you to your feet. Your legs give out, and you stumble straight into her, your forehead against her shoulder, her hands gripping your arms to steady you.

That's when you notice the quiet. Her friends are gone. It's just you and her, and she's holding you there, grounding you, even as your body feels like it's slipping away.

You nod, maybe too fast, too shaky-and push off her, your body betraying you as you shove past and out of the bathroom. The hallway tilts, or maybe it doesn't. You're swaying but not moving, weightless and heavy at the same time. Your palms are damp, but your skin tingles like electricity's running through it.

When you finally collapse onto your bed, it's like the world won't stop spinning, and you don't want it to. It's good, so good, and every thought crashes back to her. The way she leaned in, her lips so close it hurt, the smoke curling into your mouth like a promise.

You walk down to the dorms, and when you finally collapse onto your bed, it's like the world won't stop spinning, and you don't want it to. It's good, so good, and every thought crashes back to her. The way she leaned in, her lips so close it hurt, the smoke curling into your mouth like a promise.

Your thighs clench on instinct, heat pooling low, spreading through you.

You bite your lip, the sound escaping before you can stop it.

"F-fuck."

You'd never done it before.

Masturbating wasn't something you thought about. Sure, you'd been turned on, watched some porn, kissed a boy once, but touching yourself?

Never. It always felt unnecessary. Until now.

The throbbing between your legs feels like it's everywhere, spreading through your whole body, hot and consuming. Even the press of the bed against your back feels too good, and your panties-god, they're pressing against your clit just right, the pressure making your hips twitch.

You don't even realize you're panting, shallow and desperate, until the door swings open. Your roommate, Nelly, struts in like it's nothing. "So, how'd it go?" she asks, but she stops mid-step, taking one look at you. Her lips twitch like she's trying to hold back, but then she bursts out laughing, loud and shameless.

Her laugh snaps you out of it, and somehow, you're laughing too, your cheeks burning. "Ellie's got you so fucked, bitch," she wheezes, doubling over, tears in her eyes.

"Please-just shut u-up," you stammer, your voice cracking horribly, which only makes her laugh harder.

You bury your face in your hands, but you're grinning, too, heat flooding every inch of you.

The rest of the night is a blur; heat, laughter, and Ellie's name playing on repeat in your head.

—————————————————————————

this is my original post, please don’t repost, translate, or plagiarize my work ;)

©️avonnimimi 2024

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Daddy’s Home (Dom!Gojo x Sub!Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)

“Daddy’s home, baby. Now take your fucking clothes off.”

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: It’s been 3 years. You believe your fiancé is dead. You’ve been attempting to move forward in your life without him there beside you. You try to grieve properly in order to move on….until he comes home. And he’s more than ready to make up lost time.

Warnings: MANGA SPOILERS; Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Grief; Mentions of Depression, Death & Suicide; Alcohol/Drug Use; Feral!Gojo; Rough Sex; Ripping Clothes; Dirty Talk; Cunnilingus; Forced Deepthroating; Face-Fucking; Multiple Positions; Gojo Giving You Deep Dick; Breeding Kink; Unprotected PIV Sex; Creampie; Cum Eating; Ownership; Gojo Makes You a Mommy; Aftercare; Degradation; Petnames (Baby; Little Girl; Mama; Sweetheart)

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

*IMPORTANT NOTE: In the manga, Gojo is only sealed for 19 days, but in the time of the rest of the manga being written and illustrated, it was 3 years. So the timeline of his being sealed and freed will be 3 years.

Writer’s Note: I’m coping. AND celebrating my man's birthday!! The happiest birthday (and week and month) to my favorite boi! 💙💙💙 -Jazz

********

You’ve never felt such pain before.

It isn't pain that can simply be fixed with a band-aid or a kiss, like a scrape or a cut. It is a deep, cavernous, emotional pain that you have never experienced before...not before losing your fiance. The man you adored and cherished. Your best friend. Your soulmate. Your sunshine peeking through the dark, gray clouds.

But since losing him, all your days are washed with gray. You can't stand any sunny days now, knowing that he loved them and would want to do something–anything–to seize them. "C'mon, baby, let's go get some ice cream!" he'd cheerfully shout. Or "let's go biking" or "wanna take a walk in the park with me?"

Now, all you do is lay in bed and watch the days go by, the pain you feel too much. You've never experienced something so profound and intense. It causes you to cry every single morning into the night until the pink of dawn comes again.

It's been like this for three years now since you lost him forever. It still feels weird to say that: forever. You thought you'd have forever with him, but it was ripped away from you all that time ago during the Shibuya incident. It was a bloody war, from what you've heard; a massacre. So many innocent people perished.

The lives that were spared were among the other Sorcerers and his students, including Nobara who managed to survive Mahito's attack . You visited her all that time she spent in the hospital after the attack as the doctors worked to save her eye. In the end, she lost it, but gained a false one just last year that looks exactly like her real one.

Nanami also survived. It was a close call, apparently. Yuji had found him and attacked Mahito before Nanami could face his violent death. Half of his face and body are completely scalped, but he doesn't try to cover them. They are his battle scars; a reminder of what he is fighting for. He still resides in Japan though you've all been telling him to retire and go to Malaysia. "Not until he's back," he'd fiercely say. "I'm not resting until he's out of that damn box."

He checks on you as do Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara, to ensure you're okay. Shoko spent the night with you a few times until you firmly told her to stop. "I'm not gonna slit my wrists or anything," you scoffed. Shoko pursed her lips at you as she smoked her cigarette on your balcony. "No, but you might drink yourself to death first," she mumbled.

And yes, you have been drinking. You've also been smoking. Weed and alcohol are all that cure the pain, at least for a little while. You don't have to see his dazzling smile or snow-white hair behind your eyelids when you fall asleep high as a kite. It's unhealthy and you know that, but what else can you do?

You have nothing to live for anymore. Your fiance is gone. You try to tell the others this, who have worked tirelessly all this time to find a way to bail him out. 'It's been three years!' you think. 'If they haven't found a way yet, they never will. He is never getting out of that box or the Prison Realm.' And that is the sad, horrible truth.

You curl yourself into a ball now, wrapped in one of his crisp button-up shirts, naked underneath. It is twelve in the afternoon. You haven't eaten or gotten dressed, only showered and brushed your teeth (after Shoko sent you a text to do so). Tears stain your eyes which still sting from your sob session the night before. "Satoru," you whimper into the pillows. "Come back to me, please."

You know this isn't possible, but you wish to God or whoever makes miracles happen that it was. How can you live in a world, in a realm, where your love isn't here? You were going to get married, in spring of 2024. He had promised you after a wonderful night of dinner, champagne, and dancing on a private yacht he ordered just for you two.

When he got down on those long legs, one knee propped up, and presented you with that box, you could feel yourself melt. "After all of this is over," he promised, "after I make this world safer for you, let's do it, baby. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you." He gave you that big, gigawatt, hopeful smile as you felt tears pour down your cheeks, ruining your makeup. "You up for seein' this face forever?" he joked.

That night, you answered him. Over and over again, making love until morning. Until you were both spent and ached so good from twisting your bodies in a hundred different positions. Until your thighs were soaked with his cum and all you could see, hear, and smell was him.

You were more than prepared to spend the rest of your life like that with him...and now, that's all gone. A fresh wave of grief overcomes you and you grip the pillow, stuffing your face into it. Once again, you say the same words you've been saying for three years like a prayer: "Satoru, come back to me. Please."

BANG!

The sound is so loud and abrupt that it scares you. You sit up immediately, your heart lurching into your throat. You look around the room only to find it empty, but then hear the familiar sound of the front door closing from downstairs. Someone is here. But who?

"H-Hello?" you call. "Shoko, is that you?"

No answer. It is completely silent all except for the birds chirping outside your window which only adds to the ominous feeling of the situation at hand. You never gave Shoko a spare key to your home and you're the only one who can get in and out. So who the fuck is in your house?

You then hear the familiar sound of footsteps coming up the stairs, one by one, as if the stranger is taking his sweet time doing so. You instantly reach for your phone to dial 911 and retreat to the bathroom across the room, but stop when a shadow crosses the bedroom wall, and then a figure appears in the threshold of the bedroom you used to share with your fiance.

You stare at the figure hard as if it's difficult for you to decipher it, but it's impossible not to know who it is. You can tell from how tall he is as he stands there, towering over you in the doorway. You can tell from his lean body sinewy with muscles under his black clothes. You can tell from his pale skin, snow-white hair you used to love to run your fingers through, and iced, blue eyes that stare right through you.

That same lovely, adorable, sexy, dazzling grin crosses his pillowy-soft, pink lips as he stares at you from across the room. “Honey, I’m home," Gojo chirps as if he just walked in from a hard day at work.

You stare him down, afraid to move or speak in fear of ruining this or exposing it for what it is: a trick. A mirage. A hallucination caused by too much alcohol or weed (unlikely, but still). Is this a dream? Are you dead? Did you go ahead and drink yourself to death like Shoko foresaw?

He walks toward you, slowly as if to not frighten you further. You stay on the bed, afraid to move. You're trembling. He finally stops just at arm's length from you, that same smile and warm gaze still on his face. “T-Tarou?” you whisper, finding your voice.

“In the flesh," he replies in that easy, sexy drawl that you've always loved. So careless. So laidback. His expression grows concerned, his brows drawn together. “How ya doin’, baby?” he asks. Your heart flips at the sound of that pet name. You haven't heard it in so, so long.

You scamper towards him, wanting to get closer to him, but then stop, afraid to. He doesn't react to either, still standing there and waiting for you to process this. “No,” you whisper. “This isn’t real. I’m just high as fuck right now.” You put your hands in your hair, gripping the dark coils/braids/locs/curls/twists harshly.

You know that this isn't possible. You haven't touched any weed since yesterday morning, wanting to give yourself a break. Gojo whistles as he nods at the bong sitting on your bedside table. “Well, judging from that, probably so. You got any left? I could use it after the 3 years I’ve had.”

You don't answer. You barely even breathe, afraid to do so in fear of putting a tear in the fabric of this moment and ripping it apart. You still can't tell if this is really happening. Is it a trick of your cursed grief making you see shit? Could it be that a Curse is here and has somehow taken over Gojo's body, and now, they're here to kill you? You would rather take that than this uncertainty.

Gojo suddenly raises his hand toward you as if to touch you, but doesn't. “Touch me," he encourages. Though hesitant, you lift a tentative hand and stroke your fingers over his veiny arm. All you feel is solid, soft, warm skin. Gojo's smile gets bigger. “See? I’m real. It’s really me, baby.”

And suddenly, the fog over your mind has been cleared and you can see clearly. All is for certain, including that the man standing here is your man. Your 'Tarou. “It’s really you,” you whimper. “Oh, my God….oh, my God!” You can't stop the tears or the blubbering as relief and utter joy wash over you.

Gojo opens your arms for you and he barely budges as you shoot into them, not even making him stagger. You bury your head in his chest, breathing in his scent and moving your hands over his back muscles. “I’ve missed you,” you sob. “I’ve missed you so, so much, Satoru! It’s been awful!”

He holds you tight to him, solid and absolutely real. “Shhh, I’m sorry, Y/N,” he coos. “I would’ve come back sooner, but I had to take care of some things.”

You pull away to look up at him through your blurred vision. He doesn't appear hurt or bruised. In fact, he looks the exact same he did before he was sealed in that box. “What do you–“

“And I’ll tell you everything after I get some pussy.”

You pause, processing his abrupt words. “What?” you scoff. “But what about all that's happened? How'd you even escape the Prison Realm? Have you eaten or drank? What about–"

Gojo, impatient, presses a long finger to your lips. “Forget about all of that right now, Y/N. Worry about the fact that you haven’t seen me in three years and you’re dying for me to put you in the mattress again.”

Then that familiar, dark, lustful look crosses his eyes like an eclipse, taking over him. “I think you’re understanding me clearly," he says, his voice dipping an octave lower than usual. “Daddy’s home, baby. Now take your fuckin’ clothes off.”

You stare at him hard, wondering if he is serious. You haven’t seen him in three years. You have so many more questions to ask him. Like what did he do while sealed? Did he see Yuji, Megumi and Nobara before he came? Were they the ones that got him out? Is he okay? 

But from the way he is staring you down like he wants to take a piece of you, you can tell that all of those questions will have to just wait to be answered. Plus, the last one is already answered for you: no, he isn’t okay. He is fucking feening for you. He needs you. You can tell from the way his hands grip you closer and from the feeling of his semi hard-on pressing into your thigh from inside his pants. 

You can’t imagine what three years without sex was like and you don’t want to. So you’re more than happy to give him whatever he is looking for right now. “O-Okay, Gojo,” you softly stutter. Your hands move to his top to unbutton it, first starting at the bottom. But your hands fumble and shake as if this is the first time you’re doing this for him. 

“Takin’ too long,” Gojo growls, impatient. Tearing your hands away from his shirt, he immediately rips the $1,000 top off of you, revealing your laced bra and panties underneath. You squeak as he does so, alarmed. “Gojo, your shirt!” you gasp, especially when the buttons fly all over the place. 

“Forget the fuckin’ shirt,” he says, his voice all but a rasp. "I’ll get a new one. It’s not fair how sexy you look in my clothes, sweetheart.” He presses his lips to your chest, breathing you in for a moment. “God, I’ve missed your smell,” he sighs. “I’ve missed how you feel. I’ve missed you so, so much.” He pulls away then, looking down at your hand. “And you’re still wearing the ring,” he points out. 

You look down at your hand where the sterling silver engagement ring sits, its diamonds sparkling at you. “Of course,” you whisper. “I never took it off. I’m engaged to you.” You want to tell him that you always dreamed he’d come back, that you wanted him to see you with it when he did. 

“So there’s been no one else?” he suddenly asks, his eyes sizing you up. “You haven’t been with any other man besides me?” Immediately, you shake your head. “No, Daddy,” you whisper, immediately falling back into the soft, obedient, submissive state that you always slide into with him as if it’s natural to you. And it is. He makes you feel so safe and loved and kept. It’s impossible not to do so all for him. “There’s been no one,” you say. “No one can ever make me feel the way you do.” 

A crooked smirk crosses Gojo’s lips that has you quivering in between your thighs. “So one has played with this body but me?” he asks. “No one has played with that pussy but me?” Again, you shake your head, your breath becoming short and labored. His eyes seem to dark even more, becoming an ocean blue. “That’s what I wanna hear,” he whispers. Then his lips are finally, finally, on yours, his tongue dancing and swirling with yours, creating a wet, sloppy, feverish kiss that takes your breath away. 

You moan wantonly into his mouth, wrapping your arms around him. Oh, how you’ve missed this. How you’ve only prayed to feel these lips again. At some point during the dizzying kissing session, Gojo pulls his clothes off, breaking apart from you to strip himself of his shirt, pants, and shoes, leaving himself in his designer briefs that look way tighter than usual.

Actually, now that you’re noticing it, his entire body looks buffer than usual. Gojo has always had muscles but was leaner three years ago. Now, his muscles are more defined, pushing up against his shirt when he has it on. 

He smirks at your wandering eyes. “Something you like, mama?” he purrs. He takes your hand, running it over his hard abs and chiseled abs where his pink nipples are hard for you, ready to be sucked. “Something…different?” 

“It’s just…you’re so…” You shudder in delight as he slides your hand down his stomach that you could bake cookies on. “Big,” you decide, running your free hand up his forearm. “You don’t have much to do in the Prison Realm except work out and masturbate,” he chuckles. “I wanted to be bigger and stronger for you when I was finally free. And I wanna let you know something, baby.” He leans in then, pressing his lips against your ear. “It’s all yours,” he whispers. “This body…this cock…everything. All of it is yours.” 

You shudder again as his dirty words swirl in your mind. He pulls away, smirking at you. “Lemme show you what I mean.” Then, instantly, he is snapping off your bra and flinging it away before his lips and hands are latching to your nipples. He sucks and licks at your hard, brown nipples like a hungered man, his hands groping the sensitive globes and pinching your nipples with his long, piano fingers. “Look at these beautiful fuckin’ titties,” he says, more to himself than to you. “I’ve missed my girls so much.” 

Your head falls back and your mouth opens, captured by the pleasure he is giving you. “S-Satoru,” you whimper. Every graze of his teeth and lick of his skillful tongue has your pussy gushing. You haven’t been this wet in three years! Actually, you haven’t even been horny in three years. No one has ever been able to arouse you the way Gojo can. 

You find yourself rolling your hips against his knee as your hands grasp his broad shoulders for balance and leverage. Gojo hums as you grind your wet, panty-covered pussy against his knee, smirking up at you playfully. “Grindin’ that pussy on my leg, hm?” he tuts. “Even after three years, you’re still a little slut. I wouldn’t have it any other way though.”

He gives one of your titties one last suck before he shoves himself away from you. You stare up at him, confused, while he only gives you a stern look. “Get on the bed and open your legs. I need that pussy in my face.” 

You are helpless to refuse him, especially when your pussy is begging and sobbing for the same thing. You quickly hurry onto the bed and sit back onto your elbows as you open your legs for him. Gojo is between them immediately, his hands ripping off your panties as if they are no more than strings. As soon as he gets a look at your puffy, wet pussy leaking for him, he groans and his cock visibly twitches in his pants. “Shit,” he hisses. “I’ve missed her too.” 

And then he’s giving in like he would the cleanest, purest, bluest waters, his hands under your ass to give him a better angle and a better way to plunge his tongue deeper inside you. He laps and sucks at your pussy and sensitive clit, his tongue flicking and swirling around your hole like he needs it. Craves it.

You grab at his hair, pushing his head deeper into you as you wail and moan to the heavens above. “O-Oh, my God!” you cry out to the ceiling. “‘Tatoru, yes, more! Please give me more! Don’t stop!” 

Your voice bounces off of the bedroom walls, unbound and unashamed. You haven’t had this kind of pleasure––so intense and explosive––in so long. His wet mouth and soft lips feel so good. His nose brushing against your clit as his tongue swirls inside your pussy is beyond. You feel incredible…too incredible. Gojo works his mouth fast, pulling you quickly towards an orgasm that gathers in your core and threatens to tumble down over you.

“Wait, Daddy!” you protest. “Slow down! ‘M gonna cum too fast!” 

Gojo’s blue eyes peer up at you through long, white lashes as he continues to lap at your cunt. “Do it,” he demands. “‘Cause I’m finna make you cum as many times as I want to. I’ll make you cream your pretty brains out till dawn, baby. I’m making up for lost time.” 

He ducks back down, going faster, and even adding his long index and middle fingers inside of the wet, tight depths of your pussy. Your walls clench around him instantly as he expertly finds your G-spot and begins gliding his fingers up against it, encouraging you to cum with every stroke of his fingers and tongue. “Do it,” he orders. “Cum for me. Cum around my fingers and my tongue, gorgeous. I’ve got you. I promise.” 

And you know he does. He grips one of your hips with one hand as he finger fucks you with the other, humming “mm-hmm” and other encouraging words that are smothered by your pussy as he drags you closer to your orgasm. When it finally breaks, it crashes onto you like a wave, causing your back to arch off of the bed like you’re experiencing an exorcism. “Fuck!” you sob as you feel your body shake and shudder through your earth-shattering orgasm. 

Moans of Gojo’s government and curses to the stars leave your lips as Gojo carries you through your mind-blowing, body-shaking, earth-quaking orgasm…and even after, when your body aches and your heart is pounding, he continues to eat your pussy.

He continues to lap and suck at your lips, cleaning up the cum that dribbles out your hole and down your asscrack. He licks there too, moaning breathlessly and wantonly as he does. Finally, when he is good and satisfied, he pulls away from you and sits back onto his hands, breathing heavily with his chin and lips shiny with your juices and his saliva. 

A weak moan leaves your lips as your pussy twitches in delight and exhaustion at being stimulated. You feel so, so good. So free. You finally feel as if the sun has finally shown itself behind the gray clouds that have darkened your life for three years. You look at your man adoringly, wanting him to know how much you love him and how good he has made you feel. “Gojo,” you sigh. “That was amazing. I–“ 

“Open your mouth,” he demands. You button your lip, your words failing you immediately. You stare at him blankly, your post-orgasm brain not quite processing his words. Gojo sits up on his knees on the mattress, grabbing his cock in his pants. “You fuckin’ heard me,” he growls. “Open that slutty mouth, now. Don’t make me tell you again, little girl.” He pins you down with an intimidating look that is only intensified by his sapphire eyes. 

Once again, you can’t deny him. While still recovering from your orgasm, you open your mouth wide for him, your plump lips covering your teeth and your tongue out. Just the way he likes it. Gojo walks towards you on his knees and stays beside you as he unbuttons his pants. In one swift motion, he takes down his pants and his briefs, causing his cock to pop out. The long, thick, veiny appendage, bubbling with pre-cum from its pink head, lightly slaps you in the face, causing you to gasp. 

Gojo grabs your neck rather roughly, pulling you towards his cock without properly preparing you or waiting for you to prepare yourself. You stare down at his large dick, alarmed at how hard he is. The veins in his shaft throb as does his head that is quickly turning from a soft pink to an angry red. “Gojo, hold up–“ 

But your words are interrupted by his cock sliding between your lips. A hiss of relief leaves Gojo’s lips as he grips your neck, beginning to rut his hips deep into your mouth. “Sorry, mama,” he groans, “but I can’t be nice to that throat today. I’m just too pent-up. You understand, right?”

You can’t even answer. His cock is too thick; too big; it stretches your mouth out too wide, making your jaw hurt. But all you have to do is breathe through your nose and take it, which Gojo tells you to do so, as he begins to fuck your throat like it’s your pussy. Like it’s his own personal fleshlight. 

“Fuckin’ fuck yes!” Gojo loudly grunts, his voice completely primal and animalistic as he roughly fucks your throat. Though he has fucked your throat before, this time, it feels much, much different. He grips your hair and makes your scalp sting with how much he pulls it. He plunges your throat so fast and so hard in your sloppy throat that saliva drips down your chin and down your tits. He turns your face into his fuck toy, doing with it as he pleases. 

But though primal and animalistic, he is still completely involved with your pleasure. When you suddenly feel his fingers quickly rubbing your clit after licking his palm, your body lurches and your thighs twitch while you whine and protest feebly around his cock. “Theeeere we go,” he chuckles. “That’s what I want. Feel good with me, mama. This is where your weak, right? Right here?” 

He applies more pressure, rubbing your rosebud in time with his thrusts into your throat, his balls swinging against your chin. All you can feel, taste, and smell is him. Your senses are completely overtaken by him. “T-Tawou!” You moan around his cock. “Two mwuch! ‘M sensitive!” Your words are a muffled, jumbled mess around his thick dick, causing more spit to fall from your mouth as you try to speak. 

You go to close your legs, but Gojo’s hand yanking on your hair stops you short. “Uh-uh, sweetie,” he teasingly says. “Don't pull away. You owe me this.” He pushes your head farther down his cock, bottoming out in your mouth, causing him to moan so loud that it echoes in the bedroom. “You owe me this for stayin’ so damn sexy after so long. How is that even possible?” He questions you repeatedly as he fucks your throat harder and faster, grunting as he does so. "How's that possible, huh? Huh? Tell me, baby.” 

You are turned into a total and complete hole the more he fucks your mouth and flicks your clit, bringing you to yet another orgasm that has your thighs shaking. Finally, he releases your hair and lets you pull away, causing his cock to pop out of your mouth. “Gonna cum!” you whine, spit and cum all over your mouth. “I’m cummin’ again, Satoru!” 

Gojo stares at your pussy like a kid in a candy store as you cum once again, gushing all around his long fingers and all over the bedsheets. “Gooood girl!” he praises you. “Cum on these fingers, baby. Gimme what I want, but don't get too distracted, mmkay?” He takes his cock and slides himself back home into your mouth even as you moan and your body writhes on the bed. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” he chants, transfixed by the way your body moves and your pussy clenches. “That’s what I want. This is what I need.”

He rubs at your clit until he can feel your exhausted body jerking from the aftershocks. He finally pulls away from you then, cock and all, though he is still hard and throbbing. “I need to fuck you now,” he growls, desperation in his eyes. “And I can’t stop until I cum inside you, baby…without a rubber. Is that okay with you?” 

You blink at him, your sight slightly blurred from the two orgasms and your throat raw from it being fucked into oblivion. He must know that you will say yes. He must know that you’ll say yes to anyone he wants or needs. But yet, he still asks because safe sex has always been a priority with him in your relationship. He has always used condoms and has always made a point to not do anything involving PIV sex if he happened to run out.

But now, here he is, telling you that he needs to fuck you raw and cum inside you, possibly breeding you. And you find yourself burning for the same thing like a wildfire has lit inside you. You lean back against the pillows and open your cum-soaked thighs for him, showing him your glistening, puffy, sensitive pussy. “Yes,” you reply. “Fuck me, Daddy. Cum inside me. Breed me.” 

Gojo stares at your pussy, spread open for him like it’s spun gold. Suddenly, the loving, silly, goofy man you’ve grown to love is gone, replaced with one who is starved, rough, demanding, and merciless. It thrills and frightens you.

“Oh, you’re gonna fuckin’ get it, girl,” he growls before he grabs you, tosses you onto your back, and gets on top of you. “I’m gonna fuck you till you’re spent,” he promises as he throws your legs over his shoulders and prepares to slide deep inside of you until his balls touch your ass. 

When he says this, he means it. Baby, Gojo has you in every position known to man.

He starts first by fucking you in missionary, giving you deep, deep dick that nearly touches your soul and makes you see stars. One of his big, veiny hands wraps around your throat, squeezing gently on your windpipe, while the other pins your thigh open as his cock plunges in and out of your wet, sobbing cunt. He pounds you into the mattress, his big body pressing against yours and his hips nailing your pelvis. 

Then he has you on top in 69, his hands groping and smacking your jiggly ass while he, once again, stuffs his face in your cunt. You suck his dick in time with his tongue laps, gagging and slobbering all over his cock much to his delight. It is sloppy and dirty and messy…and you love every minute of it.

You love how his pubic hairs tickle your chin the deeper you slide him down your throat. You love how your eyes sting with tears as he tickles the back of your throat. You love the way his tongue slides from your pussy hole to your asshole, lapping at each one as if they’re the best things he’s ever tasted. 

He fucks on your back, hanging off the bed. He fucks you on your stomach, your ass tooted up while his feet are firmly planted on the bed, hammering his dick deep inside of you. He sucks you on your side, his hands cupping your jiggling breasts while his lips caress your neck and shoulder. And he makes you cum every. Single. Time. 

By the time he has you on your knees with his cock buried deep in your pussy once again and your arms pulled behind your back, your body is aching for rest and your pussy is a mushy, gushy mess around his cock. 

But still you persist, moaning and screaming at the top of your lungs the harder he fucks you. Your voice, along with his own, the creaking bedsprings, and the sound of skin slapping against skin, fills the air around you. “Yes, yes, Daddy, yes, fuck me!” you babble, your words a jumbled mess.

Gojo cackles from behind you, loving how slutty and broken you are on his cock. “You feelin’ good, baby?” he asks. “This dick makin’ you feel good? Don’t have to use those damn toys or those fingers anymore, no. You’ve got me now and I’ll take good, good care of this pussy.” 

He slams his hips harder against your ass, making it bounce and jiggle. The harder he goes, the more intense your orgasm gets and you find yourself about to have your sixth orgasm of the day…or night. Is it nighttime now? You can't tell. You’ve been at this for hours, fucking and cumming all over the bed. You don't even know what day it is anymore.

All you can think about is Gojo’s dick and cumming on it. “Shit, I’m gonna cum again!” you sob. 

Gojo’s hand circles around your throat, choking you. “Cum on this dick,” he demands. “Do it! Fuckin’ do it for me, baby!”

And you do. Like a puppet on a string being controlled by the white-haired, big-dicked man behind you, you writhe in the air and cum all over his cock. A weak, long moan leaves your lips as you come undone, all self-control leaving you. Gojo pulls out of you with a hiss, talking about how “fuckin’ tight” you are. When you’re released, your arms fall to your sides as you crumble onto the mattress, falling face-first into the pillow. Your body is hot and sweaty, your pussy is twitching, your ass is stinging from his assault on it. You are completely spent. 

Gojo leans down to kiss your forehead, smiling at your exhaustion. “Aww, is my baby tired now?” he coos. You weakly moan in response, too tired to speak. “Too bad because I still need to cum inside you. You did ask me to breed you and I’ve gotta make this count.” 

Before you can even protest, he is grabbing your weak body and forcing you onto your knees, hiking your ass up for him. He sinks into your overly sensitive, used pussy once more, drawing a moan out of both of you. You let him do as he pleases, too exhausted to fight or argue.

He takes hold of your hips and ruts into you like his life depends on it, nailing that spot again and again that makes you see the entire universe behind your eyelids. It feels so damn good. He fucks you at a breakneck pace, going faster with each second that passes. “O-Oh, s-shit!” you scream into the mattress. “F-Fuck, Daddy, f-f-u-uck!” 

Gojo’s fucking is egged on by your moans, his pelvis slamming into your ass and taking your very breath away. “Take this cock,” he groans. “Take all of this dick, baby. It’s yours. All of it is fuckin’ yours. It always was and always will be.” He hikes up his leg and fucks you on one knee, causing him to grow louder and his moans to become more desperate and needy. 

“God, I missed this!” he whines. “I’ve been fucking burning for you, baby. Needed you so, so much!” You picture him in the Prison Realm, his hand wrapped around his cock as he is surrounded by darkness and loneliness. As tears spring into your eyes, you lift yourself up onto weak arms to look back at him. “Then show me,” you whisper. “Show me how much you’ve missed me. Cum inside me, ‘Tarou, baby.” 

You begin to toss your ass back into him, meeting his every thrust. Gojo takes what you give him and serves it right back, moving in tandem with you. “You want me to cum?” he asks. You nod, moaning and whimpering as you feel his cock begin to swell inside you. “You want me to feel that pussy up?” he grunts. “Want me to make you a mommy? Want me to give you a kid? My kid?” 

He begins to pound your pussy into the mattress again, picking up speed. You can feel your last orgasm rising, ready to rip through you. “Say it to me, mama,” he demands. “Tell me you want my baby. Lemme hear it.” 

“Yes!” you cry out. “Yes, Satoru, I want your child! I wanna mother your baby!” That must please Gojo because he begins rolling his hips harshly against your ass, rutting into you like he’s trying to fit a home run. His handsome face is red and glittering in sweat, his snow-white hair plastered to his wet forehead.

“Can’t wait to see you full with me,” he groans. “Can’t wait till this tummy is round with my baby and those tits are full of milk. You’re gonna look so, so pretty carryin’ my baby, sweetheart. You’re gonna be the best mommy ever.” 

And he’ll be the best daddy ever. That is all you can think as you feel your own orgasm rising at the same time as him, like the sun and the moon rising in unison in the sky. Forever bonded. Forever together.

“Gonna cum,” Gojo warns. “Gonna cum deep inside you. You’d better cum with me too. Cum all over my cock, baby. Cum with me while I fill this little pussy up.” 

You nod and wail into the pillow, gripping it for dear life as another blinding orgasm rips through your body. Gojo fucks into your wet, cum-soaked pussy until he feels his own nut coming and he desperately fucks you to chase his high. “Cumming!” he babbles. “‘M cummin’, I’m cummin’, I’m cummin’!”

And when he fills you up, it’s explosive. It’s deep. It’s intense. It fills every part of you, filling you with warmth and the feeling of being absolutely filled to the brim. You weakly moan as you feel his cum fill your tummy, no doubt reaching your womb. He stills for a moment, plugging his cum inside you, before slowly and sloppily rocking his hips into you to fuck his cum deep into your pussy. 

When he is finally sure that you’re good and bred, he puts his hands on his narrow hips and whistles tiredly. “Shit,” he sighs. “I really needed that.” You moan in agreement. He then pulls out of you slowly, causing you to whimper quietly as your aching pussy is no longer filled.

He stares at it between your thighs, humming appetizingly. “Mmm, now that’s a sight: a pretty, fucked pussy drippin’ with my cum. Don’t mind if I do.” 

Then his mouth is between your thighs again, lapping gently at his and your cum mingled together all over your pussy and inner thighs. You arch your back for him, moaning softly at his soft, careful tongue strokes.

When he finishes, you turn to him, finding his semi-hard cock dripping with your mingled fluids. “You still got some left here, Daddy,” you coo before moving to lap up the cum you left behind on his cock. He allows it, his hand in your hair while he sighs about how good you are. 

Once you are cleaned up and all is said and done, the two of you finally lay side by side in your bed, together again at last. You curl into his chest, leaning your head against his heart and wrapping your arms around him. He welcomes it, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead “Welcome home, baby,” you whisper as you look up at him. “Now you gonna tell me how you got out?” 

He looks down at you, almost as if he forgot he was supposed to answer a bunch of your very important questions. “Oh, Itadori did that,” he explains like he’s telling you the weather. “He’s a smart kid, y’know. Say, you up for some sushi? I’m cravin’ some fish right now.” 

All you can do is laugh and kiss your man before getting the takeout menu that you keep in the nightstand next to the bed. All the important questions can wait.

For now, all you want and need is him.

THE END.

[allur1ngs]

✮ bloody knuckles ✮

TW: angst to fluff!! i know the summary seems like pure angst but i swear its not! semi-graphic violence? , guns, kidnapping, bada and reader get into an argument, reader acts naively and a bit selfishly (but it’s okay, she’s young and makes up for it in the end), bada still having beef w your bodyguard, protective!bada, cold!bada (this time to you too…), violent & frusterated!bada, brief mentions of sexual activity (inc…toys, ass, boobs… sorry), use of the word unnie (about six or so times) brief mentions of drugs, a creepy woman, and a surprise character from the previous installment! 

SUMMARY: breaking bada’s three rules for a night of partying backfires in ways you could’ve never imagined. now, you have to deal with the consequences of your lies

part iv. succumb (to me)

WC: 12.5k… get some popcorn y’all this is a long one

A/N: read this and this for more background on this au. i’m sure there are a ton of mistakes sprinkled throughout this fic so please ignore them, this took me so long to write and i just want to put it out on time… i promise i’ll edit it once i get the chance😭

DISCLAIMER: all characteristics portrayed are purely speculation and fiction, they are not meant to reflect bada or team bebe’s actual character, values, or attitudes. please keep this in mind!!

On an inconspicuous Thursday night, when a heat wave had just hit Seoul, you lounged in your lavish bed—free from sheets—scrolling through social media.

Pictures of cute animals and food fill your feed, making you smile down at your screen. You are about to like a particularly cute picture of a cat when a notification banner stops you midway. Your eyes flicker to the top of the screen, finding a message from your best friend, Jae Hwang.

Clicking on the notification, you're transferred into your messages app, and Jae’s text fills your screen. “Unnie, I haven’t seen you in so long!! Please come to the party I’m throwing tomorrow so we can catch up and have some fun~!"

Your lips fall open in mild surprise as you instinctively sit up. A party? You text Jae back quickly, asking the reason for the party and where it will be held.

“At my house, of course! We’re all gathering to celebrate your engagement!”

Your engagement… so your parents really hadn’t wasted any time spreading the good news. You’d barely been living with Bada for a month, and they’d already informed your friends. You shake your head and sigh rather loudly. Bada would greatly disapprove of your parents' loose lips. She preferred her privacy, not only for protection but also because she liked people staying out of her business. That much you could tell from the little time you’d had to get to know her.

Shifting your focus back to Jae’s unanswered text, you contemplate attending the party or skipping out. Though they were technically throwing it in your honor, they should have let you know beforehand instead of asking you the night before the party. You felt well within your rights to refuse, but a nagging thought holds you back.

What would you do instead? Technically, you had no plans on Friday night—or Friday at all for that matter. Saturday neither… nor Sunday. Really, you never had plans anymore. Since staying with Bada, you mostly remained inside the Lee mansion, either lounging by the large infinity pool, taking a dip in your personal Jacuzzi, or perhaps enjoying a film in the theater room on the second floor.

Or, if you wanted to leave home, you would be escorted by your bodyguard to certain malls, grocery stores, or establishments. All of which were either managed by Bada or by one of her partners. She made it clear to you from the start that going places not protected by one of her subordinates would be dangerous.

"I have connections to half the establishments in Seoul," she had muttered to you. It's incredible that despite the implications of the words falling from her mouth, Bada had a way of saying things so humbly. She didn't sound like she was boasting—though you wouldn't fault her if she was. "I bet some of the markets you entered when you were a child were run by my family, and you'd never have known."

You’d try your best to conceal your amazement at her confession, but the glow in your eyes was as clear as day to Bada. “And what about the rest?”

She let out a quiet breath, saying, "The rest are mostly run by rival gangs. Almost no stores or establishments are free of mafia influence. Not anymore, at least." Seeing the way your eyes shifted from bright to slightly apprehensive, she pushed her chair back and rose, walking around her desk before leaning on it and clutching onto its edges. "There's no need to worry about them. As long as you stay in areas where my people are, you are safe." Her hand came down to rest politely on your thigh, patting it in a comforting manner.

Her words made your stomach flutter with butterflies, and a giddy smile instinctively formed on your lips. For someone who claimed to want to avoid fostering romantic affection between you both, Bada seemed to be doing the exact opposite.

Before you could lose yourself in the tenderness of the memory, you climb out of bed, having made your decision. Because you barely left home as it is, what harm is there in going to a party? A party organized in your honor, no less. It’s a rare occasion, and truthfully, you miss Jae and the rest of your girlfriends. You haven’t seen them in over a month and texted them sparingly during that time. To be fair, it was mostly your fault—you were much too focused on getting to know Bada and adjusting to your new way of life to strike up conversations with them.

You nod your head firmly as if the action will help build your confidence before you grab onto the handle of your bedroom door and slowly open it. Standing to your right, the figure of your bodyguard, Hyo Kim, immediately greets you on the other side. She turns to face you, her black-tinted sunglasses obstructing your view of her eagle eyes.

“What are you doing up so late?” She says lightheartedly.

“Do you know if Bada is still awake?” You ask. “I wanted to ask her something.”

Hyo lifts her arm up, pushing aside the fabric of her suit to reveal a golden watch. She gazes down at it, pretending to think long and hard. “The Boss should be awake for about…” she trails off playfully, “another four hours.”

You chuckle under your breath, “I didn’t even need to ask, did I?”

“Not at all.” Hyo shakes her head while smirking.

“Alright then,” you clasp your hands together tightly, “I’m going to go see Bada.”

Hyo gestures ahead of you with her hand. “I’ll follow your lead.”

You nod quickly before advancing forward, her trailing close behind. You can’t lie; it was strange to have someone following after you almost every second of the day in the beginning. You remember that at the beginning of your stay at Lee mansion, you kept forgetting that Hyo was following you—she has the tendency to be extremely quiet when focused—and were jump-scared by her multiple times. You’d round corners and suddenly hear one of her heavier footsteps behind you, making you jump and your heart practically leap out of your chest.

At some point, you swear she started doing it on purpose, enjoying the look of fear you gave her when you jumped. Eventually, though, you started to grow used to her constantly lingering presence and even grew comfortable around her. Somewhere along the way, you’d both gotten to know each other more, and a slow but harmonious friendship grew.

“So, what are you going to ask the Boss about?” Hyo’s low and blithe voice cuts through the silence.

“Oh,” you begin, “my friend asked me to meet her and some of my other friends tomorrow night.”

“Really?” Hyo comments, her voice dripping with an emotion you can’t quite decipher.

“Yes,” you affirm. “I wanted to ask Bada if it’s okay for me to visit her.”

Hyo hums under her breath in acknowledgment. “She’ll appreciate that.”

“I hope so.” You smile lightly to yourself. “I just thought that since you follow me wherever I go, she’d find out either way, and I might as well get her thoughts on it.”

“Not to crush your hopes and dreams, kid, but I doubt she’ll say yes.” Hyo remarks.

“Really?” You pause and turn around to face her, a frown forming on your lips.

“The Boss values your safety more than anything else,” Hyo shrugs. “Meeting people she isn’t familiar with puts you at risk.”

“But they’re my friends.” You push back lightly.

“I get that, but like I said, the Boss only cares about keeping you safe.” Hyo raises her hands up in defeat.

You deflate at her words, acknowledging that she’s most likely right. After all the events that’d taken place in the span of a single month, you honestly wouldn’t hold it against Bada to be cautious of where you go. But at the same time, you can’t help but feel mild resentment at the fact that you aren’t even allowed to see your friends.

“Hey,” Hyo frowns at you like a scolding sister. “Don’t be discouraged. You haven’t even asked her yet. You never know; she just might say yes.”

You pick your head up at her words, slowly but surely nodding back. “Yeah, you’re right.” And with that, you continue walking down the corridor to Bada’s office until you reach the dark mahogany wood of her door. Lightly rapping on it, there’s a period of silence before you hear the low tenor of her voice speak up.

“Lusher, if you’re coming to ask me if I’ve finished the paperwork for POSCO’s deal, for the millionth time the answer is no, I haven’t.” Bada’s disgruntled voice makes you laugh to yourself, and you immediately bring your hand up to cover your mouth as you grin widely.

“Is now a bad time to see you, then?” You answer back cheekily.

You receive no response for a solid minute before the sound of papers rustling loudly and approaching footsteps reaches your ears. The door to Bada’s office opens, and there she stands in all her glory, looking rather flustered. “Sorry. I thought you were Lusher.”

You smile at Bada while shaking your head. “It’s alright. Can I come in?”

“Of course.” She steps aside, making room for you to walk into her office while she holds the door open for you. You say a quick thank you as pass through the threshold, missing how Bada lets the door swing closed behind her and shuts out Hyo. “So, is there a reason why you’re visiting me? It’s very late into the night; I expected you to be asleep already.”

“Well, I was about to go to sleep, but I got a text from Jae—” you pause upon seeing her frown. “my best friend.”

Bada nods in acknowledgment, moving toward a chair and pushing it back, gesturing for you to sit down. You do so, trying to ignore the nervous tension building in the pit of your stomach.

“Yeah, she invited—” you pause, choosing your next words carefully. Phrasing Jae’s invitation as a party would most likely mean Bada wouldn't let you go. So, if you just tweaked your wording a bit to make the party seem less extreme… it wouldn’t be that big of a deal, right? “she invited me to a get-together between friends.”

“A get-together?” Bada questions, folding her hands across her lap as she leans on the edge of her office table. “For what purpose?”

“Just to catch up and… celebrate our engagement.” You gesture between you both, immediately noticing how Bada’s expression shifts, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“They know of our engagement?” She asks.

“Yes,” you sigh. “I guess my parents couldn’t keep their excitement in check.”

“Your parents.” Bada shakes her head, pinching her nose-bridge tiredly. “I’ll have to have a word with them about that.”

“Please do.” You nod rapidly. “But aside from that, what I wanted to ask you was if I could be escorted to the get-together tomorrow night?”

Bada moves her gaze from the floor to your eyes, removes her hand from her face, and gives you a hesitant expression. “I don’t know… after all the incidents recently…” she trails off, a faraway look finding her eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want you to feel like you’re a prisoner in your own home, or that you can’t see your friends, I just want you to be safe.”

“I get that, I really do, Bada, but this is just a small get-together.” You lie between your teeth.

Bada stays quiet, looking to be considering your words. “And you trust your friends, right?”

“I do.”

Bada lets out a light breath, while a small smile finds her lips. “All right then, you can go.”

“Really?” You give her a shocked look before you snap out of it and practically squeal, jumping up from your chair and instinctively wrapping your arms around Bada’s shoulders in a hug. “Thank you so much!”

Bada freezes in her spot, surprised by your affection. Slowly, a warm, sappy feeling builds at the bottom of her stomach, and her hands, which had been propped up in the air stiffly, gently come down to rest against your back, patting it tenderly. “You’re welcome.” She tries not to think about how lovely you feel against her or the allure of your natural scent.

You spend all Friday preparing for the party, choosing your makeup beforehand, your jewelry, shoes, and of course, your dress—a beautiful wine-red ensemble that you’d picked up on your shopping trip with Bada. She’d chosen it for you—claiming, “This dress would look beautiful on you.” The meaning behind her words, that it wasn’t the dress that was beautiful, but instead your figure that would make it look divine, had struck you in that moment.

If Bada wanted you to wear the dress, you’d buy it in a heartbeat.

For the little hours left you have in the day, you try not to get too giddy thinking of the party or how magnificent you’ll look in the dress, instead trying to busy yourself by catching up on one of your favorite TV shows. But when the milky raven sky begins to take over the horizon, you jump off of the couch, rushing to your room, leaving Hyo to scramble after you.

In your bedroom, you sit down at your antique-styled vanity, your makeup laid out in front of you. You begin prepping your skin before beginning your usual routine. It takes you a slightly longer time for you to finish because you’re being incredibly meticulous, but by the end of it, you look amazing. Before you can get distracted, you quickly dress yourself.

As your fingers curl around the clasp of your teardrop diamond earrings and secure them in place, you take a step back to gaze at yourself in your floor-length mirror.

The win-red dress hugs your body, accentuating every favorable feature of it. A similar dark rouge to your dress is blended across your eyelids in a smoky eye, making the color of your eyes pop in contrast. Your lips, fixed into a slight pout, are glossy and soft, tinted with a color of your choice. Taking your look all together, all you can say is that Bada was right—the dress does look beautiful on you.

A knock on your bedroom door startles you, your hand instinctively flying to your chest. "Hello?" You respond, a bit on edge.

"It's me. Can I come in?" Bada's voice, muffled behind the door, reaches you.

"Yes," you reply, hastily adjusting your dress and double-checking your appearance.

Bada enters just as your hands fall to your sides, her gaze immediately scanning your figure. She appraises you, from collarbones to legs, before fixing her eyes on your chest for a lingering moment.

Suppressing a nervous giggle, you greet her, "Hi, Bada."

Her eyes quickly snap up to meet yours, a sheepish cough escaping her mouth. "Hello."

Standing awkwardly by the door, Bada stares at you for a solid minute before you give a lighthearted smile. "Is there something you needed?"

"Uhh, no. Well, actually..." Bada stumbles over her words, closing her eyes in embarrassment. "Sorry, yes. I wanted to see you before you left."

You release a small breath of understanding before a cheeky thought crosses your mind. Walking closer to Bada, you do a little twirl when you reach her. "So, what do you think?"

Bada exhales while chuckling, her nervousness leaving her. "I think you are the most beautiful woman I've ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes upon."

Out of shock, you remain still, surprised by how unabashedly Bada expressed her thoughts. You expected a simple compliment, but she exceeded your expectations. "Really?" You ask quietly, sensing a shift in the room's atmosphere. An air of intimacy and something more sensual makes your skin prickle and breath hitch.

"Of course. There's no one I could think of that could make that dress look so stunning." Bada looks back at you with a serious and genuine expression.

"Bada..." you trail off, immediately thinking of countless other women who could wear the dress better. Supermodels, actresses—

"I think there's just one simple thing that would finish off the look." Bada's voice brings you back, and you give her a questioning stare. She smiles, her hand digging into her pocket before presenting you a sleek black box. Your confusion deepens as she opens it, revealing the most elegant necklace you've ever seen. Matching teardrop diamonds, akin to those on your earrings circle the chain, glittering against the low bedroom light. At the center, a silver locket shaped like a dainty heart ties it all together.

You stare at the necklace in awe, alternating between Bada's eyes and the exquisite piece of jewelry. "Bada, it's beautiful."

She watches you marvel at it, sparkles dancing in your eyes. Giving you a fond look, she nudges the box closer. "Take it."

Hesitating for a brief second, you gently retrieve the necklace. "Wow," you breathe out, fully admiring its beauty now that it’s free from the box.

"You should put it on," Bada encourages you softly.

“Oh, I shouldn’t—” you protest.

“I insist,” she cuts you off, tucking the box back into her pocket. She steps forward, taking the necklace from your hands and moving behind you. “Here, let me.” She places it across your collarbones and brings the clasp together, her long fingers brushing across your skin. 

Her touch ignites a spark, but as quickly as it appeared, her fingers are gone. She steps back, placing her hands on your waist to move you back so that you’re facing your mirror again. But this time, Bada's at your side, admiring how exquisite you look.

 “Absolutely perfect,” she whispers into your ear.

The warmth from her touch lingers as you stare at Bada through the mirror. “Thank you.” You bask in the comfortable silence in the room for a moment before speaking up again. “Can I ask, did you buy this?”

Bada places her hands atop your shoulders, a soft, wistful look finding her irises. “It was my mother’s.”

Immediately, you whip around to face her, your mouth wide open in mortification, and your eyes the size of saucers. “Bada, why didn’t you tell me?” Your hands frantically try to find the clasp of the necklace, wanting to take it off. “Here—”

“No.” Bada’s hands find yours, holding them and stopping you from removing the jewelry. “Don’t take it off.”

“But Bada, this was your mom’s—”

“And I want you to have it,” Bada states firmly.

“I can’t—”

“Are you rejecting my gift?” Although her words sound accusatory, when you look into her eyes, there’s a glint of amusement in them.

You let out a huff of defeat. “Fine.”

Bada smirks proudly, removing her hands from yours. “Good.”

After bidding farewell to Bada, Hyo swiftly whisks you away to a black Jeep, one that, according to her, is "much more secure than a sports car." Seated in the front, she drives and engages in casual conversation while you relax in the back. You take the opportunity to share stories about each of your best friends—Jae, the liveliest, Da-Eun, the second oldest, Min-Ji, the oldest, and Ryung, the youngest and most timid. Hyo listens attentively, interjecting with comments or laughter at your anecdotes.

“You all seem to be very close,” she remarks, steering the wheel to the left.

“Yeah, we are. We’ve known each other since childhood, and our parents are all friends,” you reply.

“Those types of friends… you should hold onto them,” Hyo advises. “In this line of business, it’s hard to find someone you can trust as much as you four trust each other.”

You gaze at your bodygaurd through the rear-view mirror, sensing the weight behind her words. "Hyo?" You inquire.

"Yeah?"

"Does Bada find it hard to trust other people?"

Her lips tighten, an audible exhale leaving her nose. "She hasn't fully placed her trust in anyone since the day Mrs. Lee died."

A somber atmosphere envelops the car, akin to a bucket of ice-cold water. You shift in your seat uncomfortably, your heart aching at the thought of the pain Bada must have endured when her mother was killed. "Bada was still young when she passed, wasn’t she?"

"Fifteen," Hyo nods. "Barely beginning her climb towards adulthood."

A stark silence follows after, and the rest of the car ride is silent, filled only with the quiet hum of the Jeep’s engine and the sounds of passersby. It's not uncomfortable, but rather solemn, as if you and Hyo are silently mourning Mrs. Lee's memory.

Fifteen minutes later, Hyo's driving slows as she turns into a large house—though noticeably smaller than your shared one with Bada, of course. The GPS on the tablet beeps, signaling your arrival at the destination. "We’re here," her voice rings through the background noise.

You turn away from the window you’d been gazing out of, a smile forming on your lips at the sight of Jae’s house. Out of your group, Jae always had the most luxurious home, because though all of you came from affluent families, Jae's parents were the wealthiest. Well, it seemed like now the dynamic had changed. Once you and Bada are officially wed, your combined wealth will likely rival all of theirs combined.

"How long do you think you’ll be staying?" Hyo asks.

"I'd like to say it won't take that long, but knowing my friends, I might be here all night," you admit.

"Alright." Hyo parks the Jeep in the driveway, exits, then moves to open your door. You offer a quiet thank you as she helps you step out, mindful of the relatively short length of your dress.

Leading the way to Jae's house, you pause before knocking. Judging by the time, it seems you arrived slightly early, which in party terms means very early. Fortunately, that likely means no other partygoers are here yet, as evidenced by the absence of parked cars in the driveway.

"Actually, Hyo?" you turn back to face her, a sheepish look on your face. "Could you maybe… wait outside?"

Your bodyguard raises her eyebrows, crossing her arms across her chest. "I'm supposed to be keeping an eye on you."

"I know that, but I think the girls will be thrown off by the fact that you’ll just be standing there… watching us the entire night." Though your reasoning is somewhat woven with lies, it's also partly true.

Hyo remains silent, giving you an unimpressed look. "I have a job to do."

"Technically, you can do it from out here," you weakly argue. "Please, I want to feel like a normal person again. Like my life isn’t constantly at risk, and I always need to be monitored."

Although you can’t see the look Hyo’s giving you behind her sunglasses, you notice her posture deflating, and her shoulders falling. She releases a defeatist breath, "Fine, I’ll keep an eye out from here."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You express with a grateful smile.

"Yeah, yeah, never say I haven’t done anything for you," Hyo grumbles. "Oh, and don’t forget I have your location on my phone, so don’t even think about sneaking out because I’ll know."

"I wouldn’t dare," you joke.

"Right…" your bodyguard trails off. "I’ll be waiting in the car. If you need anything, just call or text me, and I’ll be out in an instant."

"Yup, thanks!" You give Hyo a thumbs up, and with that, she retreats back to the Jeep. You watch her go, a sudden wave of guilt crashing over you.

She'd probably be much more comfortable in Jae’s house, sitting down or enjoying the air conditioning, rather than waiting for countless hours in the Jeep while you gossip and talk to your friends. But you're in too deep now. You can’t tell her the truth or let her in, or she’ll whisk you away back to the mansion, and all your white lies will have been for naught.

Biting your lip, you cast one last look at Hyo before knocking on the front door. Silence greets you for a few minutes before you hear shuffling approach the door, and it opens. Jae’s face greets you on the other side, her eyes immediately sparkling at the sight of you.

"Oh my god!" She squeals, bringing you into a hug and squeezing you tight. "I’m so glad you’re here!" She rocks back and forth in the hug, making you laugh giddily. "I missed you so much!" When she pulls back, she’s wearing a pout across her red-tinted lips. "Don’t ghost me for a month again, okay? Or I’ll steal you away from your wife!"

"I missed you too," you say fondly. "But we’re not married yet—"

"Oh, come on, you’re engaged to Bada Lee! You’re married in every sense except legally." Jae rolls her eyes playfully, though they stray a bit before landing on something—or rather, someone—behind you. "Who’s that?" She points at the Jeep, where Hyo is sitting in the front seat, trying not to look like she's watching you.

"That’s Hyo Kim, my bodyguard."

"Your bodyguard?" Jae awes before pouting. "Why am I even surprised? Of course, Bada Lee would have her fiancée under lock and key." Jae grabs your hand, giving it a light squeeze before her expression shifts, a sly smile curving her lips. "So tell me, have you two done it yet? Is she dominant? Is she more of a boobs girl or an ass girl—"

"Jae!" You shout, eyes wide and voice full of mortification. "Are you serious right now?"

"Come on, tell me! I want to know all the stuff you haven’t told me over the past month. You owe it to me!" She whines.

You let out a long sigh. You suppose this is your karma for unintentionally ignoring your best friend for so long. "At least invite me in first, Jae. Don’t you have any manners?" You lightly scold her.

"Oh, right." She looks behind her, realizing that while she’s inside her home, you’re still outside the threshold, waiting for her to invite you in. She looks like she’s about to take a step back so you can enter before she pauses, a thoughtful expression crossing her features. "Wait, does she use toys—"

"Alright, that’s enough!" You push Jae further into her house and step inside, swinging the door shut rather loudly behind you.

Once inside, you scold her for a solid five minutes straight about manners before the two of you properly greet each other and begin a normal, casual conversation—thankfully with no mention of your and Bada’s sexual activity, or lack thereof. Instead, you're practically interrogated by Jae about every aspect of your life with Bada while you help her finish setting up for the party.

You stack up red solo cups, place beers into multiple coolers, and set out chasers. Thankfully, it doesn’t take much for the two of you to finish, and once you do, you simply lounge around a bit. Jae takes the break as an opportunity to compliment how amazing you look in your dress.

"Is that Chanel?" She asks, motioning for you to do a spin.

"Yes." You nod, doing as she wishes. "Bada picked it out for me."

"I bet she’s regretting her decision right now." Your friend giggles. "No one’s going to be able to resist you tonight!"

"Jae, stop exaggerating." You laugh.

Your lighthearted conversation continues until slowly but surely, party guests begin to arrive. They come in small waves, all dressed much more elegantly than the average partygoer. You assume they must be some of Jae’s rich friends that you’ve heard about only in passing because you don’t recognize some of them. The thought sends a small prickle of worry to the back of your mind, but you choose to ignore it for now. Instead, you greet each guest kindly, albeit rather awkwardly.

As the dark sky deepens in color, the living room starts to get more and more crowded, the rest of your friends arriving along with other guests. Min-Ji gets there first, wearing a classy black cocktail dress. She greets you with the same enthusiasm as Jae, but her demeanor is slightly more controlled, her older age shining through.

Next, Da-Eun arrives, dressed in green, and lastly, Ryung. By the time she settles in, the party is in full swing, music leaking out of speakers, and beers being passed around. You’re fully immersed in the atmosphere, happy to be surrounded by your girls and other somewhat familiar faces. You can’t lie, partying with your friends really puts into perspective the loneliness you hid behind your home’s mansion walls.

But in contrast to your free spirit, Hyo is struggling. Multiple cars have begun to pull into the driveway, groups of people entering the house and giving her a peek inside. The home has many more people than it should for a "small gathering." 

Her first instinct was to exit the Jeep and head toward the door to end your night prematurely, as well as tell you off for not only lying to her but also to Bada. However, through one of the windows, your silhouette peaks through, the light in the living room shining against your features and displaying your expression of pure joy as you dance with your friends and sip beer.

She stops mid-stride, conflict brewing in the confines of her mind. Deep down, she knows you deserve to enjoy yourself. Being stuck in a mansion—while large and full of entertainment—is nothing compared to the comfort of being with friends, partying, and drinking. “Fuck.” Hyo mutters under her breath, passing a hand through her hair in frustration. She takes another look at your smiling figure through the window, then turns back. “The Boss is going to kill me if she finds out about this.”

She stays back in the Jeep for another hour or so, listening to the music coming from inside the house and the loud chatter, keeping an eye out while checking her phone every other minute. Your location never moves, thankfully. It seems that you have the foresight not to take it as far as sneaking away from her for some fun.

But, of course, there’s no need for you to do so because the party is practically buzzing with energy. Couples and friends dance together, grinding and touching each other playfully, while some are playing cup pong or various other party games in corners of the room. You, on the other hand, have moved away from dancing, instead cooling off with another beer as your friends chatter amongst each other.

“You’ll never guess what happens next!” Jae grabs onto Min-Ji, tugging on her hands with poorly concealed excitement.

“What?” Min-Ji indulges her younger friend.

“Bada stops him right before he leaves the store just by saying, ‘And where do you think you're going?’” Jae lowers her voice and puts on a serious expression when imitating your fiancée.

“Really?” Min-Ji's eyes find your figure, a small smile curving her lips upward.

You smile back at her shyly, nodding.

“And then, she makes the asshole pick up her clothes from the ground!” Jae divulges.

“Does he do it?” Da-Eun cuts in, smirking widely.

“Of course he does! Like a little worm, he picks up all the clothes and gives them to her.” Jae points at you, letting go of Min-Ji’s hands.

“Bada must have a very strong presence,” Ryung comments quietly.

“More like everyone in the store was on Bada’s payroll,” Jae snorts. “Right Unnie, didn’t you say Bada has ties to half the population of Seoul?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “I think everyone in that store had guns on them.”

“How do you know?” Min-Ji asks.

“Well, they were all putting their hands in their pockets like they were going to pull out a firearm,” you reminisce. “And they were all staring between the man and Bada like they were waiting for her word to dispose of him.”

“It’s so crazy hearing about it.” Jae whines. “I wish I was there!”

“Don’t say that.” Min-Ji scolds her. “It must have been scary at the time, wasn’t it?” She looks back at you, posing the question.

“I wasn’t really scared for myself.” You shake your head. “I was more scared for the man. You should have seen the way Bada was looking at him.”

“I can imagine it now.” Jae tries to imitate a hardened and scary glare but ends up failing.

“You just look like you’re constipated.” Da-Eun laughs loudly, pointing at a now offended Jae. The younger girl hits Da-Eun, whining about how she was really trying to look serious.

You join in laughing with Da-Eun and Min-Ji at Jae, when you suddenly feel a tug on your right hand. Your laughter dies down as you turn to face Ryung, who’s looking between you and another corner of the room. You give her a confused look, trying to find what she’s gazing at. “Ryung? Is something wrong?”

“A woman's been staring at you since she got here.” Ryung whispers, casting her eyes to the other corner of the room.

You follow her line of sight to an unfamiliar, relatively attractive woman dressed in a loose white dress shirt and slacks. She has fiery red hair and a boyish look. She’s already watching you, her eyes unabashedly trailing up and down your figure, completely unbothered by the fact that you caught her staring. In fact, she smirks back at you.

You turn away from her quickly, a prickle of anxiety running up your spine. Though most would be excited at being ogled by an attractive woman, there’s something about her gaze that unnerves you. It's like she knows something you don’t.

“Do you know her?” Ryung asks, a worried look crossing her features.

“No.” You shake your head, a trembling breath leaving your lips. “I’ve never seen her before in my life.”

Da-Eun, Min-Ji, and Jae stop laughing at the sound of your nervous voice, turning to face you with questioning looks.

“What’s going on?” Min-Ji asks, noticing your rigid posture and Ryung’s grim expression.

Jae mutters your name, her voice becoming uncharacteristically quiet.

“There’s this woman that’s been staring at Unnie the entire night.” Ryung secretly motions towards you, then looks back at the woman with red hair. All of your friends' eyes follow, seeing how the woman gazes at you darkly; even with all their eyes on her, she doesn’t cower. Instead, she continues to watch you.

“Alright.” Da-Eun rubs her hands together, her expression dripping with anger. “Let me go have a word with her—”

“Not so fast.” Min-Ji grabs onto Da-Eun’s arm, pulling her back and keeping her from advancing toward the woman. “Jae, do you know her?”

Jae bites her lip, shaking her head. “I don’t remember inviting anyone that looks like that.”

“Then let me—” Da-Eun tries to wiggle out of Min-Ji’s hold but is unsuccessful.

“Don’t be so rash.” Min-Ji asserts. “Let’s just ignore her. If she decides to bother you directly, we’ll be here, okay?” She looks back at you with a caring expression, placing her hand on your shoulder.

“Okay.” You agree shakily, turning your back toward the woman’s direction.

For the rest of the night, you constantly feel her eyes on you. Though you try to act normal, a spike of fear runs up your body when you see someone approach you or accidentally brush up against you while you dance with your friends. You consider asking Hyo to come get you, but you don’t want to sour the mood of your friends. So you deal with her predatory gaze, and do your best to ignore her overwhelming presence.

Hyo’s eyes scan the neighborhood leisurely when a notification banner pops up at the top of her screen. Her eyes snap toward it, finding a text message from none other than her boss light up the screen. She takes in a deep breath as she presses it, her screen being moved to the message app.

Bada’s text reads, “How’s it going?”

Hyo lets out a sigh of relief, quickly texting back, “Good, she’s having fun.” She watches Bada’s text bubble show up soon after indicating she was writing, but it disappears a few seconds later. Hyo takes the opportunity to add, “Her friends are very lively.”

Bada’s text bubble appears again, but this time she sends a message saying, “Focus on doing your job.” Hyo huffs under her breath, exiting out of the messaging app and switching back to managing your location.

Her brief distraction keeps her from noticing a new group of men heading toward the house. Most slip in, it’s only until the last is about to cross inside that Hyo looks up, her eyes catching a baggy of white powder one of the men is carrying.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” She hisses. Immediately she exits the car, dialing Bada’s personal phone as she races up the driveway and slips into the house behind the man.

Inside, you’re slowly becoming more and more unnerved by the red-haired woman. Your friends try to take you around the living room, using the other partygoer’s bodies as a shield between you two, but she doesn’t allow them to. She moves through the crowd until she has a clear view of you again, then just stands there, her gaze unwavering.

“She really doesn’t give up, huh?” Min-Ji curses under her breath.

“What a creep,” Da-Eun adds.

“Are you okay?” Ryung asks you.

“I don’t know.” You admit, rubbing your arm uncomfortably.

“Hold on,” Jae cuts in. “I think she’s coming this way.”

Four pairs of eyes snap in the direction Jae is looking, finding the woman weaving through the crowd of partygoers in an attempt to reach you.

This time your entire body goes rigid, intense fear running through your veins as your friends rally around you, muttering comforting words. Their voices and the loud bass of the music in the background fade away, all you’re able to focus on is the woman with red hair only a few feet away from you now.

She’s just about to reach you when a firm grip grabs onto your arm, pulling you away from your friends. You jump at the person’s touch, instinctively trying to recoil away before you turn to see a familiar face.

“Hyo.” You breathe out in relief. 

“We’re leaving right now.” She says firmly, pulling you through the crowd of people. 

“Hey!” Da-Eun surges forward at the sight of Hyo taking you away. “Who are you–?”

“No, it’s okay, that’s her bodyguard,” Jae informs your friends.

Your friends share resounding noises of astoundment before Hyo starts to firmly push you toward the exit. You say a hurried goodbye to them, catching out of the corner of your eye the red-haired woman. She’s now wearing a frown as she quickly retreats into the crowd of dancing bodies, hiding away from your gaze, as well as Hyo’s.

The entirety of the drive back home is dead silent, but this time it’s not comfortable. Hyo’s lips are set into thin and firm lines, her expression unchanging as she switches lanes and drives through the jet-black night. You try to will your voice to work and make idle conversation, but the words get stuck in your throat, a deep feeling of regret pooling at the depths of your stomach.

The car ride back unfortunately felt much shorter than the ride to Jae’s house had. One minute you're just barely pulling out of her driveway, and the next you're passing the gates into your mansion's driveway.

Hyo parks the car, exiting quickly and opening the door for you like she always does. You still say thank you, but this time she doesn’t acknowledge it, she simply lets you take the lead as you begin the walk of shame into your home.

Walking through the front door, the first floor is eerily quiet, missing the sounds of Bebe walking around or talking amongst themselves. You hesitate before walking up the right spiral staircase to the second floor, then move to your right toward the direction of your bedroom.

“We’re going this way.” Hyo breaks her silence, motioning with her thumb behind her, toward the corridor that leads to Bada’s office. You gulp but say nothing in response, instead choosing to listen to her and head toward your fiancée. 

The sound of both your and Hyo’s footsteps echoing against the cold marble floor causes even more unease in your mind, the feeling all but tripling when you see a dark mahogany door come into view. You stop right in front of it, your legs starting to feel weak and your hands sweating. You try to build up your courage to knock on the door, but Hyo’s already a step ahead of you.

She doesn’t bother to knock, she simply grabs ahold of the door handle and pushes it open. She gestures for you to head inside which you do timidly, the door closing right behind you.

Inside the office, your eyes immediately find Bada’s figure. She’s sitting in her chair like she always is, looking incredibly tired. And instead of wearing a soft expression at the sight of you, her face is blank, not a single wisp of emotion to be seen. 

“Sit down.” Her voice cuts through the tension in the air.

You do as she says, noting that she doesn’t get up to pull your chair back for you like she normally does. “Bada,” you begin, voice quiet and full of remorse.

“I heard you had fun tonight.” She cuts you off, her tone harsh. “A party, was it?”

You close your eyes in embarrassment. “I’m sorry–”

“Are you?” She interrupts you again. “Truthfully, are you?”

“Yes.” You say frantically, trying to convince her. “I didn’t mean for it to go this far.”

“You had multiple opportunities to tell me the truth.” Bada asserts, her hands coming in front of her to clasp together tightly. “The night before when I asked you about your so-called ‘get-together.’" She lists, "You could have told me anytime today, or Hyo when she was driving you. Instead, you unabashedly lied to my face and deceived me.”

You swear the wind is knocked out of your chest at her words. Her dark brown, almost grey eyes are cutting into yours, wounding your heart as you will something, anything out of your mute vocal cords. “Please believe me.”

“I can’t.” Bada shakes her head. “All I asked of you was three things.” Much like she had when you first arrived at the Lee mansion, she holds up three corresponding fingers. “Tell me the truth, remain loyal, and never put yourself in unnecessary danger.” She places all three fingers down. “Somehow you managed to disobey all of them in the span of a single night.”

Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, and heaving breaths start to build in your windpipe. You can deal with Bada being upset with you, but there’s something about her calm disappointment that hurts you more than you could have ever imagined.

“What would have happened if someone at that party brought a gun, hm? What if they knew who you are to me? What if they wanted to hurt me by hurting you?” Her voice slowly rises in volume but never reaches a full yell. “More than anything, you put yourself in danger. All for the sake of a good time.”

You hang your head in shame, acknowledging that she’s right.

“I can’t trust you anymore.” She states plainly.

Your head snaps up from its hunched position, your eyes widening at the implication of her words. “What? Bada, what does that mean?”

Your fiancée remains quiet for a moment, her blank look doing nothing to soothe your heightening fear. Then, she speaks up. “It’s late, you should go to sleep.”

“Go to sleep?” You cry. “Bada–”

“I’m sorry, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” She tears her eyes away from yours, staring to her right. “I can’t look at you right now.”

Her words are the final blow to your breaking heart. You stand up from your chair loudly, attempting to hide your devastated expression as tears fall from your eyes in steady streams. You race over to the door, pull it open, and run out of the office, accidentally bumping into Hyo on your way out. You don’t say anything to her, simply wanting to get as far away as possible.

Lusher, who’d been rounding the corner about to head into Bada’s office catches sight of your teary eyes and sighs. She makes eye contact with Hyo, sharing a knowing look with her before entering the office.

“I’m not in the mood, Lusher,” Bada mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration.

“Don’t you think you were a little too hard on her?” Lusher contends.

“She put her life at risk,” Bada states firmly.

“She went to a party, so what? She’s at the age where she’s supposed to be having fun with her friends, clubbing and drinking.”

“She lied to me,” Bada argues.

“Listen, I know that–” before Lusher can finish her sentence, the door to Bada’s office opens again, this time much more violently. Hyo stands in the doorway, a worried look encompassing her features.

“What now?” Bada snaps at her.

“Boss,” Hyo huffs. “the keys to the Jeep are gone.”

“What?” Bada stands up with urgency, her blank expression morphing into nothing but unrivaled anger. “Where did you put them?”

“I had them in my pocket–” Hyo freezes, a look of realization glinting in her eyes before she stops and runs a hand down her face in frustration. “Your fiancée pickpocketed me.”

“She pickpocketed you?” Lusher says incredulously. “So she just left? But it’s dangerous to be out this late, and in that dress–”

“Lusher, gather all of Bebe.” Bada interrupts her, voice loud and commanding. “You,” she points at Hyo. “find her. Now.”

“Yes, boss.” Lusher and Hyo say in unison, scrambling to do what their superior asked of them. 

Meanwhile, Bada remains standing behind her desk, a mix of fear and unadulterated anger building in her. She feels immediate regret for the way she’d treated and spoken to you. She never should have let you leave in such a vulnerable, and most likely intoxicated state.

She could never forgive herself if something happened to you because of your argument. She slams her hands down on her desk, almost breaking it with the amount of force she uses.

Bada storms out of her office, heading down the corridor toward her bedroom, pushing the door open before heading toward her bedside table. She opens the first drawer, revealing a black pistol. She grabs it, about to exit her bedroom when her eyes catch the portrait of her mother hanging just above her bedside table. She takes a moment to face it, her face morphing into a grim expression. 

“I won’t fail you, mother.”

Lusher, Tatter, Kyma, Minah, Chehe, and Soweon, otherwise known as Bebe are all gathered in the armory room, guns in their hands. Lusher dons a sniper, Tatter a pump shotgun, Kyma a handgun, Minah a rifle, Cheche a break action, and Soweon a pistol.

“She managed to pickpocket Hyo?” Soweon exclaims, loading her pistol with bullets. “How is that possible?”

“She must not be as innocent as we thought.” Cheche comments. “Out of all of us, Hyo is the most alert and aware of her surroundings. She has some skill.”

“Enough talking.” Lusher cuts in, clicking a magazine into her sniper. “We’re wasting time. Boss wants us to find her as soon as possible.”

Bebe falls into line, following their second-in-command to the first level of the Lee mansion where Hyo is, tapping her foot against the marbled floor impatiently.

“Do you know where she is?” Bada’s booming voice causes all her subordinates to freeze. It’s brimming with urgency, and full of poison.

Hyo looks up at where her boss is standing at the top of the spiral staircase, her aura demonstrating absolute authority. “I think she’s lost her phone.”

“What do you mean?” Tatter speaks up.

“The location stopped moving right in front of her friend, Jae’s house. But it’s not inside, it’s farther down the road.”

The room becomes astoundingly quiet, so silent you could most certainly hear a pin drop. Although no one has the heart to say it, they all know the truth. You’ve been taken.

But then, Bada’s heavy footsteps begin descending the stairs, her eyes alit with a fiery passion and her eyes fixed into a firm glare.

“We’re finding my fiancée.” She demands. “And if she’s not home by the end of the night, it’ll be your head on a pike.” She points at Hyo, her pistol held firmly in her other hand.

“Yes, Boss,” Hyo says fearlessly. Truthfully, she felt partially at fault for what had happened. If she had only brought you home the second she realized you were throwing a party, or if she paid more attention when you bumped into her, you would be here, safe. 

Before they can all head out, Bada’s phone buzzes in her pocket. She stops, pulling it out and observing the caller ID. Her eyes widen when she sees it, immediately pressing the answer button and holding the phone up to her ear. She mutters your name into the speaker, causing all of Bebe to freeze and look at her in shock.

“Where are you?” Bada says, voice soft and full of worry.

“Hello?” A voice that is most certainly not yours greets her ears.

Bada’s expression shifts immediately, her eyes narrowing to slits and her voice dropping. “Who the fuck is this?”

“Are you Bada Lee?” The voice says hurriedly.

“Yes. How did you get this phone? Where is my fiancée?” Bada demands.

“This is Jae, Unnie’s best friend.”

“Jae?” Bada says, her tone calming the slightest bit. “Where is she?”

“Bada, you need to come here quick.” She cries. “Unnie called me a few minutes ago saying she wanted to stay the night with me, but right when I saw her pulling into the driveway, another car parked beside her, and I think they took her!”

Bada’s hands form fists as she motions with her head for Bebe to go into the garage full of cars. They do so immediately, piling into a modified and armored SUV with a sunroof. Lusher sits behind the wheel while Hyo takes the passenger’s seat. The rest of the girls sit in the back, guns positioned in their laps, Minah poking out of the sunroof with her rifle propped up in front of her.

Bada follows after them, getting into her personal, fortified sports car as the door to the garage slowly begins to open. She puts Jae on speaker, “Did you see who took her?”

“It was dark, but I recognized one person,” Jae confirms. “It was this woman who was at the party I threw for Unnie. She was staring at her the entire night like a creep.”

“What does she look like?” Bada asks through her teeth.

“She’s wearing a white dress shirt, a pair of black pants… oh, and she has very vibrant, red hair!”

Bada pulls up next to Bebe’s car, her eyes meeting Lusher’s, a new type of rage building in her irises. “Seong.”

When you awake from your slumber there’s a pounding ache at the back of your head, and your eyes are blurry. You blink as you try to gather your bearings and sit up, but your arms are held behind your back by something. You start to panic, your head whipping around as you begin to remember what had happened just before you lost consciousness.

You’d been driving the Jeep toward Jae’s house whilst sobbing uncontrollably, realizing that your selfishness would most likely cost you your engagement to Bada.

When you were a few minutes away from Jae, you called her with trembling hands, breathing heavily into your phone.

Your friend muttered your name into the phone, sounding like she’d just woken up.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice shook with emotions. “Is it okay if I stay with you for the night?”

“Of course,” Jae answered immediately. “But what’s wrong? Have you been crying?”

“Bada and I got into a fight.” You admitted. “I think she’s going to call off the engagement.”

“What?” Jae’s incredulous voice rang out of the phone.

“I’ll tell you everything in a second, I’m right next to your house.” You made a left into Jae’s neighborhood, finding the lights in her house on. You parked a little further down the street, seeing stray liquor bottles and red solo cups littering her lawn, most likely thrown away by her drunk party guests. “Okay, I’m here.”

“Where?” Jae’s figure approached the window that oversaw her driveway, her eyes squinting as she tried to discern your body from the pitch-darkness of the night. “I don’t see you.”

You sniffled into the microphone, switching hands as you climbed out of the Jeep and waved your hands to get Jae’s attention. “To your right.”

Jae’s eyes shifted in your direction, and after searching for a few minutes her eyes shone with recognition. “Oh, I see you!” She waved back at you, the interaction distracting you to the point where you didn’t hear a car pull up next to you until people were clambering out of it, their heavy footfalls approaching you.

You jumped when you felt an arm grab you, gasping and struggling against their grip. “Let me go!”

Jae’s voice came out of your phone, saying your name, but before you could answer her or call out for help, something hard hit you in the back of your head and caused you to fall limp into your kidnapper's arms. But before you fully lost consciousness, you caught a brief glint of red hair from the corner of your eye. 

“No.” You whisper, reality finally settling in. “No, no, no.” You try to move your hands, but your eyes find them secured behind your back with handcuffs. You struggle against them, trying to wiggle your hands out but they’re closed tight against your flesh, making the steel rub your skin raw. You hiss in pain but continue trying until your wrists are red. You try to move toward the wall behind you, leaning on it to help you stand up.

Once on your feet, you stomp on the floor, trying to break the heel of your platform heels. You repeat your action a few times on each foot until part of the heel breaks off, leaving you with shoes that are easier to run in. You huff out in exhaustion, but you’re not done yet. Using the wall once again, you attempt to get your arms in front of you by jumping and pulling your arms under you. Thankfully, you’re successful, and let out a breathy laugh of victory. 

 You slide down the wall, taking a small break when you suddenly hear footsteps coming close to the room you’re trapped in. Your eyes widen in fear as you try to back away further from the door.

“Look who’s awake.” The woman with red hair enters the room, her voice coming out in a sing-song.

“Who are you?” You rasp, sitting up tall. Although you’re terrified out of your mind, you know better than to show it. 

“The name’s Seong, sweetheart.” She smirks, one of her lackeys trailing after her. “And you have something I want.” You stare back at her as she gets closer to you, bending down so you’re at eye level. “Not going to ask me what it is?”

You say nothing, instead just keep eye contact with her, never once wavering under her unnerving gaze.

“Ah, we have a strong one here.” Seong laughs heartily. “I can see why Bada keeps you around.”

Mentally, you curse at yourself. Of course you’d been kidnapped as some sort of leverage piece between this woman and Bada. She’s most likely one of the rival gangs that’d been waiting for the chance to pounce at an opening to get through to Bada. And you’d stupidly given her the perfect opportunity.

“Well…” Seong’s voice drops, chills running down your spine as her eyes lower to your figure. “I’m guessing she doesn’t just appreciate your banter, huh?” She reaches out to touch you, her cold hands dragging across your collarbones. “So pretty…”

“Don’t touch me.” You spit, tone dripping with disgust as you recoil away from her.

“So lively too.” Seong chuckles.

“Bada’s going to come get me.” You cut in, glaring at the woman with fiery hair.

“Oh yes, I’m counting on that.” Seong smiles. “You know, she owes me a lot of money.” She stands up and begins to pace around the room. “My father and her father used to work together back in the day. But once Lee died and your little wife took over his business, she cut ties with him. Apparently, selling drugs is too ‘corrupt’ for her.” She scoffs loudly, the sound full of resentment and anger. “My father lost all his connections. He had to start selling to junkies on the streets, and now he’s running out of money.”

She stops in front of you again, a twisted smile stretching across her face.

“Bring him in,” Seong says to the lackey behind her. He follows her orders, trailing out of the room before he returns minutes later, a man shuffling behind him. When the man steps into the low light of the room, you audibly gasp and your eyes widen. “Remember him?” Seong stands next to the man–the same man from the mall. The man that’d harassed you, and had been humiliated by Bada.

Here he stands, the right side of his face swollen and colored in grotesque combinations of yellow and purple bruises.

“You.” The man rasps, his eyes shining with a crazy glint.

“This man right here was beaten half to death by Bada when I found him lying on the street.” Seong pats his shoulder. “Imagine my surprise when he told me how he’d accidentally hit on the Bada Lee’s fiancée, and almost gotten himself killed because of it.” She circles around the man. “Finding you after that didn’t take much. And look at you now…”

“Lying on the floor like some pathetic bitch.” The man spits. “How does it feel?”

“Go to hell.” You snap at him, eyes set in a glare.

“You should be careful how you speak to me.” The man warns you, walking closer before he bends down in front of you. “You’re the one who’s restrained, and at our mercy.”

“And yet despite that, it’ll be your blood that stains this floor when Bada finds me.” You retaliate.

The man’s face screws up in anger, and in a flash, he grabs onto your necklace, using it to tug you forward painfully. “You bitch–”

Your eyes go wide as you watch your necklace–Bada’s mother’s necklace–stretch in his hold. “No–” you choke out, using what little control you have of your hands to slug them against his face, taking his hands off the necklace. But unfortunately, his strength ends up ripping it off your neck, the broken jewelry falling onto the ground. “No!” You cry, scrambling over to the necklace, trying to grab it with your hands.

The man turns to face you, wearing a look of anger you’d never seen before in your life. He raises his fist, about to punch you when a hand stops him from doing so.

“Now, now, let’s not get too caught up in our anger.” Seong pulls the man away from you and pushes him toward the door. “We’ll have our fun once Bada arrives, believe me. You can do the honors of killing her if you really want to.”

Seong follows the man out of the room, her lackey trailing behind her before she stops to give you one final look, and closes the door to your room, leaving you trembling and in almost complete darkness.

In the raven black of the night, Bada, Tatter, Chehe, Hyo, Kyma, Minah, and Soweon stand at the door to Seong’s hideout, guns held tightly in their hands. Bada turns to look at a building across the street, holding a thumbs up in the air. Atop the building is Lusher, her sniper propped up against the ledge of the roof, her scope focused on Bada’s signal. She traces the red dot coming from her sniper around Bada’s thumb, indicating she’s ready.

“Lusher’s in position.” Bada turns back to face Bebe, nodding at them. “Let’s not waste any more time.”

“Yes, Boss.” They all parrot in response.

Bada turns to face the doorknob, pointing her gun at it before shooting. Tatter steps up first, shouldering the door open with intense force, making it swing open and reveal Seong’s hideout. Some lackeys that had been standing around jump at the sudden intrusion, their hands instinctively reaching for their guns. But all of Bebe’s members are twice as fast and skilled. Tatter shoots down one man with her shotgun while the rest of Bebe pile in, backing her up and mulling down the waves of oncoming men like they’re bugs.

Bada steps in last, shooting a man who was running in as backup, then shooting another who almost managed to get a shot in on Minah. She charges forward without fear, cutting through the mess of flying bullets and punching one of Seong’s men in the gut, then shooting him between the eyes. His blood splatters against the side of her suit as she kicks his body away, continuing her advance until she makes it out of the entrance of the hideout, and into a split hallway.

Bada keeps her pistol trained up and ears keen as she hears Lusher’s sniper bullets break through glass windows and hit some of the men still flocking to the entrance. An emergency alarm begins to blare in the hideout, red lights bathing Bada’s figure as she studies both paths ahead of her.

Suddenly to her right, she hears loud footsteps approaching and whips around to face a man running down the hallway. Thinking quickly, she shoots him in the foot before he has the chance to reach for his gun. He falls to the floor, screaming in pain whilst clutching his wounded foot. Bada walks over to him, kicking his gun away then aiming her pistol at his head.

“Where is she?” She yells over the loud, blaring alarm.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” The lackey wails.

“Yes you do. Tell me or I’ll kill you!” Bada places her pistol on the man’s forehead, making his pathetic wailing increase.

“Okay, okay, just please don’t shoot me!” He begs.

Bada grabs the man by his clothes, hoisting him up and pushing him forward, causing him to stumble and almost fall onto the floor again. “Show me the way, now!”

The man cries as he hobbles forward, leading her in your direction.

“Fifty-five, fifty-six, fifty-seven…” your voice mutters amidst the silence, keeping track of the minutes passing by since Seong left. You stare at the steel door separating you from your freedom, hoping with every minute you count, Bada gets closer to finding and rescuing you.

It’s at minute forty-two when bright, red lights flood your room, blinding you and throwing you off your count as loud alarms sound outside. You sit up, your heart beating wildly in your chest.

“Bada…” you sigh in relief. She came for you.

Another five minutes pass before you hear movement coming towards your room, making you scramble towards the door. But when it opens, you’re not greeted by the sight of your fiancée. No, instead, Seong rushes inside, her red hair ruffled and her breaths uneven as she closes the door behind her.

“Fucking–” She mutters, her eyes finding you instantly.

“I told you.” You smirk. “You’re all dead.”

Seong stares back at you silently before charging up to you and slapping you across the face. You shriek and recoil back as she breaks into manic laughter, pulling out a gun from her pocket. “Maybe, but if I die, you’re coming with me, sweetheart.” She clicks the safety off, her finger in position to press against the trigger when three loud bangs come from outside your prison, making you scramble back in shock, and Seong turn to face the door.

A long moment of tense silence follows before the door to your prison slowly creeks open, Seong gulping as the hand holding her gun starts to tremble. Right before the door fully swings open, a shot is fired from the person outside, grazing Seong’s cheek and making her cower away.

She runs over to you, picks you up from the floor and holds onto you by your throat, her gun pressed up against your temple. "Don't get any closer, Bada Lee,” Seong yells, digging her fingers into your throat. “or I’ll kill her!”

Bada side-steps away from the door, revealing one of Seong’s men dead behind her, blood leaking from his foot and his forehead. “Let her go, Seong,” Bada demands. “Your problem is with me, not with her.”

“But that’s just the thing, isn’t it? When you hurt one person, the people you care about suffer!” Seong laughs maniacally. “You had no mercy for my family, so why should I have any for yours?”

“You did all of this because I refused to sell your drugs?” Bada spits, her voice dripping with venom. “You’re pathetic, just like your father.”

Seong’s face reflects sheer anger in response to Bada’s words. She’s about to pull the trigger of her gun when Bada shoots first. She hits Seong in the knee, causing her to collapse and shoot the ceiling instead of you. You scramble away as Bada lunges forward, tackling Seong and knocking the gun out of her hand before she can try to shoot at you again.

Unfortunately, Seong is strong as well and fights back against Bada for her gun, both trading blows with each other until Seong manages to get Bada’s gun from her grasp. She pistol whips Bada in the face, giving her a cut across the nose as Bada falls to the floor, blood falling from her wound.

“Not so tough now, huh, Lee?” Seong screams as she points Bada’s very own gun at her.

“You should know that even if you kill me,” Bada says through heaving breaths, “you’ll still never make it out of this building alive.”

Seong bares her teeth at Bada, pushing her gun closer to her temple. “You’ll still be dead.”

“Don’t!” You scream, emerging from behind Seong, holding her gun. “Put the gun down or I’ll shoot.”

Seong clicks her tongue, laughing condescendingly as she turns to face you. “You don’t have the guts to kill me.”

“But I do.” Bada jabs her fist into Seong’s stomach, knocking the woman off of her and the air out of her lungs. Bada takes her gun back and places it in her pocket as the woman with red hair heaves against the floor, her eyes the size of saucers.

Bada walks over to your trembling figure, her gaze soft as her hands come up to grab yours that are still holding onto Seong’s gun.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” She whispers tenderly into your ear, bringing you against her chest as she quietly soothes your shaky breaths.

“I thought you were–” You begin, the words falling from your mouth through gasps.

“I know, I know.” She shushes you. “Everything’s all right now. Give me the gun, honey.” You let go of Seong’s gun, allowing Bada to take it into her hands as she faces the red-haired woman who’s writhing on the floor. “You should have known better than to touch the people I care about, Seong.” Bada’s voice is cold, and more charged with rage than you’ve ever heard her carry before. “You’ll always be your father’s waste of a daughter.”

Through Seong’s choking breaths, you hear a sob wrack her voice, tears falling from her eyes and running down the sides of her face.

Before Bada pulls the trigger, her unoccupied hand comes down to shield your eyes. “Don’t look,” She whispers softly, “and cover your ears.” With tears streaming down your face, you plug your ears and shut your eyes, a deafening shot following soon after. A few minutes pass before you feel Bada move you around, hugging you close to her chest as she breathes a sigh of relief. “It’s over.”

It’s like the floodgates open at the sound of Bada’s soothing voice because you start to sob violently into her chest, wishing you could cling onto her, but you can’t your hands still restrained by handcuffs. “Bada.” You cry, burying your face into her warm body heat.

“I know, I’m so sorry.” She whispers. “I came as fast as I could.”

“I thought she was going to shoot you.” You sob. “I was so scared–”

“Shh, it’s all right honey, I promise. I’m okay.” She pats the back of your head before pulling away to gaze into your eyes. They’re wide and filled with tears, but so infinitely beautiful to her. Bada wipes your tears away with her thumb, smiling softly at you. She takes a step back, taking off her suit jacket before placing it onto your shoulders and rubbing up and down your arms. “Let’s go home, okay?”

Bada’s room is warm, the atmosphere a far cry from the prison you’d been held in. You sit on Bada’s fluffy bed, staring into the distance with a faraway expression while waiting for her to return.

Thankfully she does as soon as the thought crosses your mind. She makes her presence known by knocking gently on the wood of her bedroom door. “Can I come in?”

“Yes.” You croak.

Bada enters the room with a mug of piping tea in one hand, and uses her unoccupied one to close the door behind her. She sits next to you on the bed, handing you the mug while muttering a soft warning about how hot it is.

“Thank you.” You say quietly, taking the drink and blowing on it.

Bada places her big hand on your thigh, rubbing it gently as she looks into your downcast eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“Better now that you’re here.” You admit, staring at the ripples in the tea caused by your breath.

“I’m glad.” Bada’s eyes move from yours to your hands, noticing how red and raw your wrists are. She removes her hand from your thigh, gently touching your wrist so she can turn it over to get a better look at it. “Should I get you some pain medicine?”

“No.” You answer quickly, your eyes shooting up from your tea and meeting hers. “Stay with me, please.”

Bada nods silently, rubbing the skin just above your wrist. “I’m sorry.” She whispers grimly. “You got hurt because of me.”

You stare at Bada with an incredulous look, shaking your head rapidly. “It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t lied to you and went to that party, Seong would have never been able to get to me–”

“You went to that party because you missed your friends,” Bada argues back lightly. “I deprived you of a social life in my obsession with keeping you safe, and look at where it got us.”

“Bada Lee, this is not your fault.” You say firmly. “You saved my life.”

Bada looks like she wants to argue more, but holds herself back. The silence between you two allows your still-racing mind to catch up, and you suddenly sit up, eyes wide and full of sorrow.

"What is it?" Bada questions, noticing your expression.

"Bada..." you trail off, turning to the side to grab something you'd hidden. Facing her again, her mother's broken necklace is in the palm of you hand. "I'm so sorry. I tried to keep it safe..."

Bada takes the necklace out of your hand and holds it up in front of you both. "I don't care."

"What?" You breathe incredulously. "But Bada, it was your mother's–"

"And it can be fixed." She says softly. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

Your look of shock melts into a sappy smile. “Me too.” You agree, placing your mug-free hand on top of Bada’s. She moves her hand around, weaving your fingers together tenderly as her thumb swipes across the skin of your hand.

“Did Seong hurt you anywhere else?” Bada asks, scanning your face for injuries.

You turn your face to your right, showing her your left cheek, which is now slightly bruised. “She slapped me.”

Bada’s eyes take in your injured cheek, a storm of emotions flashing in her irises for nothing more than a split second before she masks it with a caring expression. She brings up your arm so that it’s in front of her, places her lips on your hurt wrist, then she brings it back down and brushes her other hand across your left cheek. She leans in, pressing a soft kiss to each of the growing bruises.

When she’s done she leans back, nothing but pure care in her eyes as she gazes at you.

“Can I ask you something?” You mumble, butterflies dancing in the pit of your stomach.

“You can ask me anything, honey,” Bada whispers, tracing shapes onto your hands. 

“You always kiss my injuries.” You point out, careful to keep your voice sweet so she knows you like her display of affection. “Is there a reason why?”

Bada’s eyes leave yours for a brief moment, finding something above your head and gazing there before her eyes move back to you. “My mother, she used to…” she trails off, “she used to do that when I was younger. It always made me feel better.”

You smile softly at Bada, warmth flooding your veins. “That’s beautiful.”

She smiles back at you, muttering a soft thank you. You both allow a comfortable silence to fill the room until an idea pops into your head.

You quickly place your mug of tea on Bada’s beside table, then turn to face her. She gives you a confused expression when you take both of her hands and lift them up. Bada’s long fingers curl against yours, displaying her bloody and bruised knuckles. You lean down, placing a soft kiss next to each of them, unable to see how Bada’s eyes widen at your actions until you pull away.

When you look back at her, she’s looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. You smile at her, then lean up, placing one final kiss on her nose, right below the cut Seong made.

Pulling away for the final time, Bada brings you closer to her, missing your warmth as she touches her forehead to yours and closes her eyes.

“Please never leave me again.”

❝ should my hands be stained with blood, let them be so, solely for you. ❞

[jjclopelover]

How he talks to/about her v.s. How he talks to/about him

I'm back with more analysis' about JJPope and why it's better than anything either of them had with Kie.

Today I'm talking about JJ and how he speaks of and to them and why the difference in how he does it speaks VOLUMES.

JJ talking about Kie (S1): "Of course, I'm hitting on her. She's a super-hot, rich, hippie chick, slumming with us. Why? I can't figure it out either, but who cares, bro? I know that door's locked because I tried it. Have you?"

JJ talking about Pope(S2): "Ain't all that bad. Just look at the guy over there. He would do anything for us. That's a Pouge if I've ever seen one. Bone-deep. That's just one man's opinion, though."

THE DIFFERENCE.

JJ talking to/about Pope:

"For once in your life, trust someone else."

~~~

"You're the golden boy."

~~~

Topper: "Hey, I just wanna make sure everyone here is okay with ending up in federal prison."

JJ: "Uh, if it gets to that, yeah, I'll do it for Pope."

~~~

"I'm here for you, Pope. Welcome to my world, okay?"

~~~

JJ talking to/about Kie:

"And you--I mean, you're already rich as fuck anyway. Why would you bother?"

~~~

"Okay. Not all of us can afford unlimited data plans, Kiara."

~~~

"Hell of a job melting it down, Dr.Frankenstein."

~~~

(I don't need to put anymore as all of JJ's quotes for Kie are from the first half of S1 lol.)

As you can see, JJ speaks highly of Pope and lowly of Kie. He sees being a pouge as a badge of honor and gave Pope the highest honor. He sees Pope as someone he can relate too and shares a deep connection too.

He doesn't see that with Kie.

And I hear Jiara stans saying "What about S3? He was so worried about her and went back to get her!"

And to that, I say, "Yeah...cuz it's JJ."

His number one trait as a character is his loyalty. It's his best trait as it shows how much he will do for his friends. But also his worst trait as he puts his friends over his own being and in the end it only hurts him.

JJ would have reacted the same if it was anyone else in that situation.

Like when John B was a wanted criminal, JJ did anything for him. (risking to get arrested himself, shooting cops, and being by his side when he was on the run)

Or when Sarah is dealing with Ward or Rafe, JJ is always watching over her. (running after a car that held a drugged Sarah unconscious in the back, jumping in a shipping crate to get her and the cross back, staying by her side, and keeping an eye on her when John B was found guilty in court.)

And even Cleo who just joined the crew, JJ makes sure to treat her like the rest of the pouges. (like when he praised her for convincing Pope's parents to let him go to South America)

And we all know that he would do the same if not more for Pope. (going to jail for him, almost getting arrested for him again, taking over an entire boat of men to get his cross plus Sarah, risking being seen with him at Midsummers when he was supposed to be undercover, taking a beating from his dad for him, fighting for him at the outdoor movie, being super protective about him anytime he was around Limbrey and Renfield, keeping the secret that Pope was the one who actually sunk the boat and lying to the others, bringing Pope to his cousin Ricky's house to save his life even tho Ricky was still pissed at him for stealing his ambulance.)

And many, MANY, more.

The way we are introduced to JJ who loves and protects Pope but pushes Kie aside

versus

The way they "built up" S3 JJ for a toxic relationship with Kie but as a result of that he has to push Pope aside.

The writers and creators gave us s1 JJ, that's how his character was made and supposed to be portrayed. S3 JJ was built off toxic fans who threatened their way into an unfortunate canon ship.

Toxic stans = Toxic ship.

You Jiara stans wonder why JJ felt out of character, or why the Jiara chemistry felt forced or fake. That's because it was.

You can't force chemistry.

All the OBX cast did chemistry reads to see which duos worked together as a couple and which didn't. But the one duo that did not do a chemistry read was JJ and Kie (Rudy and Madi)

why?

because the creators saw no need. as they weren't even thinking of getting those two characters together. JJ was supposed to end up with Cleo. That was one of the many reasons Cleo came back as a main character.

What they would do with Kie and Pope, I don't know and I don't care. But Any ending would have been better than canon Jiara.

Anywaysssss

JJ treats Pope like he's his partner

and

JJ treats Kie like she's his sister

But let's be honest...we all see that, don't we?

Editor's note: Sry this took so long lol, life's been busy :)

[catsfor2]

hit me, pt 1

word ct.: 2.3k, largely unedited gen: boxer!ellie x med student!reader au!!!, reader is a barista, ellie is mean (she has her reasons), reader is a pretty princess femme because i said so, also ellie says dyke (because i said so)(but not in this chapter lol) warnings: swearing/language, age diff (reader is 19 ellie is 23), drug use (alcohol), eventual smut, angst

a/n: this chapter is a kinda slow start, i mostly just wanted write some establishing dialogue type stuff. i want this to be a medium length ish fic. definitely nsfw in the future. i’m also going to (attempt) to have a more organized pov switching order? idk maybe each part switches between ellie and reader or maybe 1 switch per part? idk. lmk what u think. if you like my writing pls interact on this post or even visit my blog to submit a hc, drabble, or fic idea! requests are open

a/n 2: also, thank you sm to everyone who voted on the poll!!! will totally be doing more of those in the future

part 1.5

You were so drunk. Like, so fucking drunk. Legs wobbling and cheeks flushed, an idiot could notice how intoxicated you were. Hanging off of your friends and approaching strangers. A mess, is what you looked like. You'd learned to restrict yourself over the years, as your friends have informed you of all of the humiliating behaviors you exhibit drunk.

You weren't too worried about anything, though. It's your first night drinking in a while—you're up at university now. Rarely do you get to join Dina and her friends by actually consuming the alcohol—you usually just pass. However, tonight, you wanted to get fucked up. You wanted to forget. Fortunately Dina's a good host, and an even better friend. If anyone was going to be holding your hair back at the end of the night, it would probably be her.

The very first thought you had was holy shit, this is not Dina holding my hair. You shouldn't say 'holding', really. Whoever's hand was in your hair was gripping, hard.

"Shut up, you're fine. Here—drink. No, not sip, drink." A voice directs, bringing a cold cup of water to your mouth.

The first sip is disgusting, the stale tastes of alcohol on your tongue washing down your throat.

Oh Christ, is this one of Dina's friends? How do I not remember her? And her...huge shoulders?

"Seriously—fuckin' drink or I'll make you." The same voice says, meaner and harsher. This person talked to you like you were an animal.

The hand that clutches your hair lets go, and surprisingly gently, rakes over your head a few times to smooth it out. You absentmindedly lean into the touch, too far past the threshold to stop yourself.

The hand moves to your nape as you start to drink, cradling. Her fingers just barely reach around the sides of your neck.

You hesitantly gulp about half the glass of water before the brunette puts it back on the counter.

"Ewwww, is that sink water?" You whine, your face scrunching.

"What, it's not good enough for you? You want Fiji? Fuck is the problem?"

Her tone sobers you up for a moment, locking your eyes to the tiles. You couldn't look at someone while they yelled at you.

Slouching on the floor while she hovers over you, you pull the edges of your dress over your folded legs, only just now feeling the bareness. Your hands stay clutched in the fabric.

"Are you done now?" She says. Rudely, you think. She could've meant 'done' with your vomiting or with your complaining, you weren't quite sure.

"Yeah...I think so. Thank you. Um, really, thank you." You try to say, still feeling stuffy and weighted from all the liquor in your system. She looks at you so intensely you turn your head to escape her gaze.

"Dina asked me to." She takes a damp towel and wipes around your face. "Plus you're so drunk it's a fuckin' liability."

"I'm—m'sorry. Who are you? I've never seen you at one of Dina's...things...before, I don't think."

Her hand stills, wet rag still in it. Her eyes hold yours for a moment, closely and intensely, before darting away again.

“Yeah, you haven’t.”

She rolls up her sleeves before wiping over your collarbones and you spot her tattoo. It takes your gaze up the length of her arms, and you simply let your eyes wander over her figure for as long as you want.

"You should probably throw that dress away. Y'got shit all over it now." She states.

Well.

You look down and see that the moisture on your dress has made it completely see through. Your arm moves to drape across your chest to cover your vibrantly patterned bra and your breasts awkwardly spilling out of it.

"Come on, that's jus mean," you complain. "...ignoring me like that. Please, please, pleeease tell me your name..." Your voice is drunken, high-pitched, and definitely annoying. The woman in front of you grimaces.

"No."

"Why not?" You giggle a bit. "I'll tell you mine."

It was kind of your specialty. Annoying people. Her eyebrows shift downwards. No response.

"Hm, ok. I'll ask Dina." You say, a tiny smile trying to break through your face.

"Do it. See if I give a fuck."

"Woooaahhhh, somebody's got a bee in her bonnet! Who peed in your wheaties?"

"You did. And you're at least sixty-fucking-years-old for even saying that," She tosses the rag behind her and puts her hands on her knees to stand all the way up. "y/n."

Your face lights up an in instant. You scramble to your feet.

"How--how do you know mine? But I can't know yours!?"

"Just how it is. I have to go now." She says, throwing her khaki jacket on her back.

"But--hey, hold on, I don't have a ride home anymore! Everyone's left by now!"

"Not my problem. Call your fucking boyfriend or something." She barks, hands now defensively in her pockets.

A laugh promptly bursts out of you, and you impulsively reach out to grasp her shoulder. Your fingers brush over the collar of her jacket.

"O-kay," you quip, "hold on--cause, I don't have a boyfriend, silly," Her eyes bore into yours as your face draws even nearer. "I'm a lesbian..." You whisper giddily, as if it's something only she gets to know.

Her eyes flit away from you as her mouth purses and flattens, like she's contemplating on how to deal with you. In a moment her pupils are locked with yours again.

"Wow, so fucking special, aren't you, princess?" Her last word is a little less bold, less certain than the rest, like it wasn't entirely intentional. You blush, full body and wholeheartedly.

Princess. Princess?

Your grin widens uncontrollably, and you feel yourself giving in to the hazy pleasure of the alcoholic buzz in your blood. Your hands palm your own thighs as you speak.

"Oh...princess? I like that. I've never—I've never been...called that, before. Before now." You breathe out, eyes fluttery and tired.

She didn't snap at you immediately this time. No, instead, she begins to smile. A lazy, smug, confident smile that burns your stomach.

"You're gonna be real fuckin' embarrassed when you remember this tomorrow. Fuckin'—prissy bitch like you acting all shameless."

“You don’t know who I am,” You mutter, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. "and this? This is not shameless. Do you wanna see shameless? What that actually looks like?" You ask, voice quiet on purpose.

"...No. Fuck no." She denies, that microscopic crack of a smile still evident on her face.

She's very pretty when she smiles. Sooooo pretty.

"You swear way too much, you know that?"

"No, I didn't fucking know that."

Her eyes don't leave yours, like she's waiting for something. Finally, something breaks.

The hand that was resting on the doorknob jiggles it open and she stands in the frame for a moment, just staring. Her compelling eyes force your words out.

"Ok but before you go. One question. Just—just one question.”

"What."

You freeze. What did you want to ask her? You remember it being something about her age.

“Well fucking spit it out. I’m trying to leave.” She urges.

Before you can even recall, another thought appears in your head.

"Okay, okay. Call me princess again? Pleeease? Just once before you go. I don't even want a ride anymore.” You take a glance at the bathroom. “I'll just...sleep… here." You whisper, a little upset thinking about how after this woman leaves, you'll be standing in this bathroom, alone.

"..."

She steps forward, mostly expressionless, pulling up the straps of your dress to cover some cleavage you didn't realize was showing. Your face heats shamefully.

She lets out a sigh.

"Dina has a pull-out in the basement. There's another bathroom down there too if y'need it. Go to bed," Her eyes scan you up and down so quickly you almost miss it. "and finish that glass of water."

With that, the door shuts behind her.

And she's gone.

_____________

You did end up talking to Dina about the person you met last night. Around noon, of course, as you both had slept through the entirety of morning.

"Wait...that's Ellie? Are you fucking serious?!" You clamor, barely comprehending what she’s saying.

The person who helped you out last night knew you, and it also happened to be Ellie. You wanted to hit yourself. Knock yourself out. Be unconscious.

"I thought you knew! She doesn't look that different."

"Dina. I haven't seen her in four years, cut me some slack. And she has like—a whole new energy now. It's....different."

She smirks at you. "...Different?"

"I—yes, different. I know I'm not wrong. I'm not."

The last time you saw Ellie, she was 19 and you were 16. You hadn't come out yet, and hung off of your asshole boyfriend's arm for as long as you could when he was around. Ellie hated the guy. You were insufferable, but Dina must've seen through it enough to befriend you. You’re eternally grateful.

Ellie is a family friend of Dina's, so naturally your paths crossed pretty frequently back then. Until two days before her 20th birthday, when she ran away only with plane tickets and a plan to 'elope' with her girlfriend of three months. They broke up a month later.

You haven't seen her since—excluding last night, of course.

"Oh—oh, fuuuuck. Dina, I know why she was so mean to me last night." Your hands reach up and you drop your face into them.

"She was mean? You didn't say that, the hell?"

"Yes—she was mean, Jesus Dina, keep up. Listen I didn't even recognize her. Like, at all. I kept asking for her fucking name, like, over and over and over again! Oh god, she probably thinks I'm such an asshole." You sulk, rerunning the things you said and did last night in your head.

"Yeah, she totally does."

"No! shut up! You're not helping. How was I supposed to--? She has these arms now, she didn't have those three years ago! And her shoulders? They're so much...wider!" You exclaim, bewildered by this entire situation.

"Hah, ok--"

You cut Dina off.

"And the tattoo, oh my god the tattoo! She's basically unrecognizable!"

"Calm the fuck down, perv. She got a new job three years ago and it just changed her a bit. She does a lot of...physical stuff, now. But she's basically the same, I swear."

"Yeah? Ok. That's...reassuring, I guess..." You say, half truthful. Dina looks at you with something you can't identify. "so...what job."

"Uhhhh—well, not my place to say. You'll...definitely have to ask her. Yourself." Dina winces, trying her best to not let out more info than she should.

"Hm. This is getting...less and less reassuring as you go on. But, thank you Dina."

"So you want her number?" She grins, holding up her phone.

"Are you kidding me." You reject. "I do not text first. You know that."

“You freak, not for that,” Dina shakes her head. “but so you guys can fucking make up and not hate each other, maybe?”

She laughs before getting right on her phone and looking for Ellie's contact.

"I'll just send your number to hers then, jeez."

"No, don't do that either. If Ellie's all upset I couldn't tell who she was, she can be a big girl and tell it to my face. And I don't even care if you tell her I said that. Honestly."

Dina looks up at you. Eyes unmoving and apathetic.

"Both of you are so fucking dramatic. Don't think I'm on your side or her's at this point. I’m completely out of this.”

She throws her phone on the couch before tossing her whole body on it as well. She grabs the remote to turn on the TV.

“Oh shit,” Dina laughs.

“What?”

“Ellie’s gonna fuckin’ flip when she finds out you’re gay now,” Dina says with an acute smile.

I already, accidentally, drunkenly told her. Problem fucking solved, you think.

“Ok? Why’s that?”

“Oh, no reason. Just, pure shock, probably.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” You respond lightly. “…I guess she still pictures the me from highschool, right?”

“Is that your way of asking me if she still hates your ex-boyfriend? Cause yeah, trust me, she does—”

An impeding stream of knocks cut her off. You both whip your heads towards the sound.

The door swiftly opens and in steps Ellie.

Nobody speaks for a few seconds.

“…I have coffee. Thanks for leaving the door unlocked, morons,” Her leg kicks backwards and loudly shuts it. “I hope you get fuckin’ robbed one of these times.”

She walks ahead and hands a hot cup to Dina, and then, to you.

Her thumb rubs along the inside of the carabiner clipped to the loop of her jeans. There’s a smidge of silence before she looks up, only really looking at you.

“I need to show you something.”

And that’s all she says. No context, no elaboration.

“Uh—now?” You question, still in the beat up makeup from last night and hair sticking in all different directions. You couldn’t go out in public like this.

“Uh, yes, now.” She unclips the carabiner and spins it around her pinky. “Let’s go.”

“But what if—what if I have plans?”

“Do you?”

“Well no, but I’d like to at least—”

“Jesus Christ both of you are like this? Here: your hair looks great, your makeup is perfect, your boobs are huge. Can we fucking leave now?” She tells you, completely causing you to forget anything you were saying.

In a moment of panic, you glance at Dina.

Her eyebrows and shoulders only give a limp shrug, as if to say, ‘I don’t know what this is about, but you’re on your own!’

Naturally.

“Yeah, we can leave,” you take a sip of your coffee. “…Ellie.”

The second you say her name, her head is turned to you. Her eyebrows creasing and eyes unwilling to break your gaze. So now you know what the stare was about.

You wonder if your cluelessness last night genuinely hurt her. Made her feel unwanted. Unknown. You felt like shit. You just hope she doesn’t feel similar as you do right now.

She says nothing.

And in that silence, with Ellie cutting in front to get the door for you, you leave.

[fancyfeathers]

And Then There Were None

(Yandere William James Moriarty x Author!Reader)

Based on this post

TW//serial killing, panic attacks, slight gore if you squint, smoking, usage of drugs(smoking), kidnapping, implied isolation, heavy guilt, heavy depression

And Then There Were None (Yandere William James Moriarty /w Author Darling Masterlist)

Six months, you spent six months, a half a year, in America, New York City specifically, writing and getting inspiration for your next novel. You did not go alone of course, you made the trip with a friend of yours, Alex Pendel, an American novelist who grew up in Manhattan. You stayed with their family during your trip and you certainly learned a thing or two from the very family who runs New York in the palm of their hand, but that all is besides the point now, because now you are home.

Alex took your hand, helping you as you could pick up the skirt of your dress, as you stepped off the walkway that led from the ship to the dock. You noticed as you disembarked the strange looks Alex got from the people all around, you suppose that the suit she wore would certainly draw eyes, you had gotten so used to her family back in America and they were used to her more masculine sense in fashion, her mother even telling you with a fond tone how much Alex looked like her father. But here in London where no one truly feared her or her family that look was bound to draw stares. You also clocked that your luggage was nowhere to be seen as you disembarked which would make anyone else raise an eyebrow but to the two of you, this was just how any other trip would come to its end.

“You wanna bet how many of them came?” Alex asked as you began making your way down the dock, your heeled boots and her slacks making a sharp and dull clicking sound from each of you both as you walked together, arms interlocked. “I bet Réne and Charlotte will be there, I think Evelyn had that family reunion this week.”

“No that was last week, Charlotte I think is up in York, it is her younger brother’s birthday today.” You remarked after Alex’s comment which drew a hum from her as she released your arm to grab a cigarette from her suit jacket pocket.

Réne Drew, Charlotte Basset, and Evelyn Jay, along with Alex Pendel, they all were your best friends. You were all members of a small writer’s club you formed, there were a few other members as well but you all were the founders, you all made the payments for the building in Mayfair, hired the staff, and sent out the invitations to any promising authors, journalists, and poets who may be willing to join your club and they began to pour in. Evelyn and Réne were the ones who were at the club the most out of all of you.

Réne lived a few blocks away in a flat he began renting after moving to London from Marseille, a port city in France. Hisfamily was old money French family who based their fortune in the wine and alcohol industry, but his elder brother was set to inherit everything, so off to England he went, attending Oxford before settling in London and beginning his writing career and becoming a bestselling author know for his works that silently shatter the illusion of humanity in a poignant way by holding a mirror up to us and saying: look at what we truly are, and look at what we pretend to be.

Evelyn was a young heiress from an old money family as well, but one from here in London, titleless, and she was the youngest member of the club as far as age goes, only eighteen when you all founded the club. She is a seemingly innocent and sweet young lady but the human mind can be a very dark place. She often asks, when you all are at the club, questions that truly terrify you, for example…

“Would hunting another person still be considered hunting an animal because humans are a form of animals?”

“If you were being burnt alive would the smoke or flames kill you first?”

“I think there is a murderer in my neighborhood, I keep on seeing traces of blood by the park… Do you think they are burying their victims there?”

She always had the sweetest smile and is honestly quite kind, if not a bit creepy.

Then lastly there was Lady Charlotte Basset, the eldest child and heiress of a noble family, she has more money than she knows what to do with. She moved to London to find direction with her life but instead found strange happiness in her family’s estate there, so she wrote about it and it sold in the blink of an eye. When not at her desk or at the writer’s club, she is often seen taking you all out on the town to spoil you bunch or out with one of her brothers, gambling and drinking. She often takes Evelyn to visit haunted sites all around London so she can get inspiration for her books and scare off suitors with the gossip of the seances she holds in her own estate, which may or may not be true.

“(Name)! Alex!” A high pitched voice called out to you two as you neared the end of the large pier. You looked to where the pier met the land and spotted a young lady with light brown hair and a long yellow dress that lacked any corset and was quite old, no doubt a gift from her grandmother from when she was a girl in the regency era. But that young lady was indeed familiar to the two of you, Evelyn Jay.

She ran over to the two of you, wrapping her arms around Alex first, which was returned with a hesitant hug and sheepish smile from the New Yorker, similar to how an older sister would greet their younger sibling when their friends were watching. Evelyn quickly broke away to greet you, hugging you slightly less tighter than how she hugged Alex. “Oh I missed you two so much! So much has happened! Réne went to Moscow to meet with a publisher and translated there to see if his next novel could be published in Russia first since it takes place there- oh and Charlotte got to meet the queen on her father’s birthday in the spring, and she said Charlotte looked absolutely radiant and-“

“Evelyn!” Alex cut her off with a wide smile across her face as she set a hand on the young lady’s shoulder in an attempt to pry her off of you. “We just got back, give us time to breathe, you can tell us all about what happened later.”

“I know it is just so good to see the both of you.” She spoke in a rush as she slipped her upper limbs away from your torso and then she took a breath and sigh, finally calming down as she looked over the both of you, her gloved hands folding in front of her. “It is… it is just so good to see you, both of you.”

There was something lingering in her voice, something that did not feel quite right but you just summed it up to perhaps your absence over the half a year.

Evelyn led you both to the carriage that she arrived in, and indeed your luggage was being packed up on the back and top of it. While the carriage driver was working on packing up your belongings, you spotted a man in a blue and brown plaid vest with a matching blue tie, his brown hair and eyes matched the brown on his vest while the gold glasses he wore that matched the gold buttons on his shirt and vest. He had a cigarette between his lips and fingers much like Alex did, and this was another familiar face, Réne Drew. He spotted the three of you and waves with one hand while the other pulled the cigarette from his lips.

“I saw Evelyn run off to look for the two of you, I would have gone with her but I just do not have the same energy she has, not with the nights of sleep I have been getting at least.” The French author spoke as a greeting as the two of you approached within ten feet of the carriage. He opened his free hand and arm to you, embracing you in a small hug for a moment, but not Alex since he knows she is not the affectionate type, with the exception of Evelyn that is. “It is so wonderful to see the both of you, truly it is.”

Something was off in his tone as well, now that was strange, Evelyn was one thing, but both Evelyn and Réne, that was how you knew something was wrong.

You glanced over at Alex and you saw a glance that was exchanged with you, silently signaling that she picked up on what you noticed as well.

“Réne, are you alright?” You questioned your friend as he broke away from the hug and he did not make eye contact with you for a long moment, only bugging his cigarette up to his lips to take a long draw from it. “Réne-“

“Sir… and ladies.” You heard the carriage driver call out to you all, hesitating for a moment as he was about to say ma’am but seeing as there were now three women he was addressing he changed his choice of word. “Everything is packed up.”

“Lovely.” Réne responded as he turned to face the carriage driver for a brief moment before looking back at you and Alex. “Let’s… we can discuss this in the carriage.”

Réne helped Evelyn into the carriage first, then attempted to help Alex who simply slapped his hand away and stepped in herself saying. “Réne, do you need help getting in a carriage? The answer is no and neither do I.”

Then Réne reached out to help you in the carriage-

Suddenly you were knocked over as a gentleman walked past you, the heel of your shoe getting caught in between the bricks that formed the pavement below you. You hit the ground, no doubt dirtying your dress that Alex’s mother got for you in America.

“Oh dear, are you alright Miss?” You hear the voice of the man who knocked you over as he reached out a hand to help you up, his voice smooth and calm if not a little worried in your distress. You looked up at him, he was a young man with blond hair and scarlet red eyes, he was dressed in fine clothes, a brown suit and red tie to be specific.

“Yes, I am, just a little fall is nothing to worry about.” You responded as you took his gloved hand with your own as he helped you up, pulling you to your feet. Behind him you saw another gentleman who looked quite similar only the other wore glasses and had a scar that hid itself behind his hair. You looked back to him and smiled, giving him a little nod in gratitude and you extended your hand to him, more socializing was a habit you picked up in America. “Thank you for helping me up.”

“It was the least I could do since I was the one who knocked you over.” He took your hand in his own, giving it a firm shake and squeeze. “I am Professor James Moriarty, it is a pleasure to meet a lady as polite as you, Miss...”

“Oh (Name).” You watched as his smile turned into an expression of slight shock. “Is something wrong, Professor Moriarty?”

“Not at all, I am just a fan of your work that is all.” He responded, shaking his expression away with a slightly embarrassed chuckle and smile.

“Well that is certainly a nice thing to hear after my trip home, I am glad you enjoy my work, Professor.” After your comment you heard Réne clear his throat, reminding you that everyone was waiting on you. You glanced back at your friend before looking back at the professor and giving him one last smile. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Professor Moriarty.”

“You as well.” He responded as you gave him a small wave goodbye as you turned back Réne who had his arm outstretched to help you into the carriage.

You stepped up into the carriage, swinging yourself over into the corner next to Evelyn that faced away from where the carriage was headed. Alex and Réne sat across from you, Réne nearest to you and Alex nearest to Evelyn. You felt the carriage begin to move, most likely off to your home first since you lived closest to the docks, though close would be an understatement, but that was besides the point. As you finally pulled away from the docks as a whole, Alex was the first to speak up.

“So what has you two all fussed? I thought you bunch were supposed to be happy we are home.” Her comment and tone would have normally drew smiles from you bunch but instead worried glances were exchanged between Réne and Evelyn, the silence was louder than anything else in this moment.

“Guys, what is wrong? You are starting to scare me.” You questioned, your own tone turning serious and grim as you looked between Evelyn and Réne who were tucked into their own separate corners of the carriage.

“While you both were gone something happened, at first no one thought much of it, that is until something like it happened again a few months later, about a week ago.” He began to explain, his hands nervously fidgeting with the pocket watch chain that was connected to his vest. “We thought about writing to you both when the first one happened but chalked it up to a coincidence but then the second one happened and you were already aboard the ship by then and thought it best to wait until you were back here to tell you-“

“Tell us what, Réne?” You questioned, drawing a brief silence from the French author again and his words were picked up by Evelyn.

“Well you know your novels, the one with a blinding snowstorm and a homicidal maniac and then the other one where the little girl poisoned her grandfather with eserine?” Evelyn asked you which you responded with a scoff.

“Of course I do, I wrote them.” You watched as Réne reached into his satchel he brought with him and pulled out two newspapers, one was slightly worn and older than the other, a few months if you had to guess. Your eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowed, and your heart began to pound as he handed them to you.

Then your heart stopped as you saw the headlines.

“Serial Killer in the Blizzard; multiple found dead.”

“Earl of Kent found poisoned with eserine.”

Your lips fell agape as you stared at the papers in your hands, you were so far away from reality in your shock that you did not even notice Alex snatching them out of your hands and begin reading over the paper herself. You must have been in shock for a few minutes because when you came to, Evelyn was rubbing your shoulders and Alex was swearing up a storm and Réne was trying to get her to calm down.

“The deaths were all nobility, but they mimicked your books.” Evelyn commented as she helped you sit up straight from how you sat slouched in your seat.

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean!?” Alex snapped back at the young lady across from her.

“Think about it, think about all the major murders over the last few years, who has been killing the nobles of the nation or their aliases at least?” Réne asked and she fell to silence once again, minus the barely audible swears slipping from her lips, leaving you to piece together everything in your already distressed and confused mind.

“…the… the Lord of Crime.” Your words were breathy and uneven as you spoke your response but Réne nodded, his expression as grim as it has been since you stepped into the carriage.

“We… No one knows his motive behind choosing your books, but Scotland Yard has ruled you out from being a suspect since you were in America when the initial incidents took place, but they still have no clear suspects yet.” Réne continued on, your shaking form barely piecing together what he was saying. “We thought maybe you coming back to England would bring an end to them… but now thinking about that now it just sounds silly.”

“I… this can’t be true…”

The carriage was drawn to silence after you said those words, confirming that this indeed was reality.

—————————

You stood at the train station a suitcase packed that you carried, you were going to go visit your mother for a few weeks in your hometown, tell her about your time in America and all the parties you went to and things you saw in one of the most amazing cities in the world, but more importantly to find comfort after you heard about those murders and perhaps receive a bit of guidance on what to do.

“You have your ticket, right?” Little Evelyn asks as she bushed out the wrinkles in your coat as the train pulled up to the station. She had accompanied you to the station to say goodbye, but in reality your friends have not left you by yourself unless you were home since you found out about the murders of the Lord of Crime, it has been Almost three weeks now.

“Yes and I will be fine, Evelyn.” You replied to her worry with a smile which she gave a little huff to as the doors of the train opened up and made your head turn. You gave a glance back to Evelyn and she, like always, threw her arms around you and squeezed you tight, like she was afraid you would disappear into dust if she let go.

“Just be careful alright?” She spoke as she buried her face into your neck, muffling her voice slightly, to which you hummed in acknowledgement in response to her. She finally let go of you, her hands coming to rest on your lower upper arm, near your elbow. Her gaze flicked between you and the ground, as if she was scared to meet your gaze. “I will miss you.”

“I will only be gone a few weeks, it is not like I am going back to America.” You teased her which drew a wide smile across her face.

“I suppose that is true, just… be careful, please?”

“You already asked me that.”

“You already said that, but I will be.” You responded as you switched hands that your suitcase was in so that you could grab your ticket with your dominant hand and so that Evelyn would let go of you fully. “I’ll tell my mother that you said hello.”

“Please do- and oh ask her for the toffee she makes, I have been craving it since the holidays.” She added on, cutting herself off as soon as she remembered your mother’s cooking.

“I will.” There was a brief moment of silence between the two of you again that was broken with the whistle of the train blowing, telling you that you needed to board the train or be left behind. You turned your body but your head faced Evelynas you began to walk away. “Well I will see you in two weeks, Evelyn. We can have tea at the club when I get back.”

“That sounds lovely.”

You stepped up into the train proper as it began to move, almost catching you off guard which made you laugh slightly at your own stupidity. You began looking through the compartment, finding one that was free for your use, or in other words empty. Eventually you found one and got settled, setting your suitcase next to you for a brief moment while you pulled out a book to read, an American novel you bought during your time in the states, before you closed your suitcase and set it on the racks above you.

Time slowly drifted by as you made your way through the book, it was good, but time spent reading for you had just gotten short and shorter for you the sharper your mind got, so now the hours you spent as a child reading your favorite books from the library had turned into half an hour if that. You huffed a sigh as you closed the book and set it on your lap, but you slipped your index finger between the pages to save your spot, after all you are not some psychopath. You gazed out the window as the city of London faded into the countryside of England, it felt so quiet which was both strange and welcome since you really have not had a moment of silence since you were back in your hometown before leaving for America six months ago.

“Excuse me, would you mind if we joined you?” A voice from the hall asked, which silently told you that you must have left the door opened. You turned your head, ready to politely dismiss whoever was asking but-

“Oh Professor Moriarty, correct?” Your words escaped your mouth before you could even think about what you were saying, your sight and mouth working faster than your brain could process. Indeed the man from a few weeks prior at the docks was before you on the train, along with the other blonde man who you did not speak to at the docks and a brown haired man with the greenest eyes accompanying them.

“Miss (Name), I did not even realize it was you, what a pleasant surprise to see you again.” You gave William the same smile he gave you and silently gestured for the three of them to come into the compartment, after all the company could do you some good to take your mind off of things. William sat next to you and the other two gentlemen sat across from you both. William gestured to the both of them, specifically the one with brown hair first and then the blonde. “These are my brothers, Louis and Albert.”

“A pleasure to meet you both, my name is (Name). William and I met briefly at the docks in London when I was just arriving home from a trip to New York City.” You explained, though the explanation was more for Albert rather than Louis since you remember he was there despite him not saying away, but they both smiled in acknowledgement all the same. You glanced at William who was sitting next to you, and while your prior meeting was brief, he was the one you were most familiar with. “May I ask where you all are headed to?”

“I happen to teach mathematics at the university in Durham, but Albert is headed up there for business and Louis is managing our estate there.” He explained which drew a nod from his brothers. “And what about you?”

“Oh I am just visiting my mother and spending some time back in my hometown before heading back off into the world of editors and publishers.”

“You are from Alnwick, correct?” You heard Albert ask which caught you off guard and you nodded with a shocked expression on your face to his question which drew a laugh from him. “I just remembered William talking about one of your books and one of them taking place in the Alnwick Garden since that is your hometown.”

“Oh good, for a second I thought I had a stalker.” You laughed in relief which made everyone in the compartment break a smile at the very least, but then you suppose you do have a sort of stalker in the form of the Lord of Crime and that thought made your smile fade away. “But yes I am from Alnwick, but I moved to London when I started writing since my publisher and editor were located there and it was easier just walking to their office than having to take a whole long trip down there just to have an hour long meeting with them.”

“I suppose that does make sense.” William spoke with his own smile fading into a more relaxed expression. There was silence among you all once more for a minute or two before William chimed in again. “If I may ask another question, you just returned from America, I would think you would want to avoid travel for a time and stay in London to decompress and relax.”

“Well I just do not think I can relax there right now…” You answered, your gaze falling down to the book that sat in your lap with your finger wedged between its pages, your hands and palms especially growing a tad clammy. “…Since you are a fan of my books then I am sure you heard about what has happened with the Lord of Crime incidents involving two of them. My friends told me about it on the carriage ride back home and it has just been itching my mind in a way I do not like, so I decided some country air and family would do me some good.”

“I see….” It felt like William’s tone in voice changed slightly, growing darker, maybe drawing more into his thoughts for a moment, but only a moment. “Then I suppose it is a good thing to get away from all the commotion to recover from that shock.”

“I do hope so.”

You spent much of the train ride in silence, reading over the book you brought along with you, and then rereading it once you finished. Eventually the Moriarty brothers excused themselves to go to the dining car, they invited you but you rejected their offer since you would be having supper with your mother when you arrived in Alnwick and your mother would not you spoiling your appetite since she would certainly have company over to welcome your return, your grandparents who were still alive and your siblings if they were around. Besides, you wanted to look through your manuscripts and notes from America to see what you could use for your next novel since your stay in New York City was to force creation and inspiration and you certainly could not pull those out around William since you were told he was a fan of your work, spoiling something like your next novel would be cruel.

You read through your old writings and the scene of the city came flooding back to you. Honestly you wished you could go back now, forget about what has happened and just enjoy life, but now it feels like your lust for life has just vanished since Réne handed you those newspapers in the carriage when you and Alex returned home. You sighed, setting your papers, journal, and pen back on the seat and got up, a quick stretch and a trip to the washroom would do you some good. You slipped out from your and the Moriarty brother’s now empty compartment and into the hall. The train was fairly quiet this far into the trip you noted as you walked down the hall and looking around, one of the men in the compartments waving to you as you both made eye contact as you walked passed. The washroom was at the end of the cart while your compartment was at the front, you shut the washroom door after you and turned the lock so no one would walk in. You did not really need to use the bathroom, but you just really needed a change in scenery and a moment to freshen up, fixing your hair and running your hands over your dress to get the wrinkles out.

You smiled as you tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, remembering a book you wrote a few years prior. It was on a train like this, an American tycoon was found murdered in his compartment, stabbed a dozen times with his door locked from the inside. The victim was actually inspired by one of Alex’s brothers who you met when he came to London to visit her and to attend to work affairs, whatever that may be, you learned not to ask questions when it came to her family and their family business.

You opened the washroom door before you stepped out into the hallway and began to walk back to your compartment. You thought back to your gardens in your hometown, that would be a good place to write if it was a clear day, write a few chapters of your book over the next few weeks before coming back down and handing it off to your editor which would give you some time to relax in London while he works on that, you could probably have time to meet with that new poet who had just become a member at your club while you away in America, they were from Germany to believed and-

Your thoughts were cut off as you stepped in what sounded like a puddle, that was strange, you were on a train, did someone spill their drink? No that could not be it, you were in the washroom for such a short time that they would probably still be here, trying to clean it up. You looked down at your boot covered foot to see what you had stepped in…

“What?”

That cannot be right, the puddle was a dark crimson red, like blood, how was that possible? Your eyes followed where the puddle was coming from, leaking out from a door to your right that you passed while walking to the washroom. You looked up into the glass of the door…

And the scream that ripped from your throat must have alerted the whole train.

Dead, the man you passed by earlier was dead…

No, that was not possible…

You could not have been in the washroom for more than five minutes…

But there he was, dead.

You did not even realize that the train staff was pushing you out of the way as they came running to the scene. They were also taken by their shock and had to hold back their screams as they could handle the situation. One of them stepped forward, and attempted to open the compartment door…

“It’s locked.”

Your eyes widened at that statement.

This couldn’t be-

“Get her back to her compartment, she needs to sit down.” The voice of one of them told another and you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder and guided you back to your compartment. The door opened and the Moriarty brothers were already back and to them you must look like you just met death, and in a way you did. You felt William’s hands come to take you by your forearms to guide you down to your seat next to him while Albert talked to the crewman, but you could not process what they were saying as Louis and William were checking to see if you were alright as far as your physical condition, but mentally…

You were a mess, pale faced, tears rolling down your face, hyperventilating, all things someone should be after seeing a dead body…

Especially a murder based on one of your books.

Stay safe, that is what Evelyn told you before you left, well you do not feel safe anymore.

—————————

It has been months since that incident and you find yourself back in your study back at your townhouse in London. Since then there has been an increase in the incidents based on your books, the last one that happened three days ago was the seventh, and honestly all of this was driving you a bit mad. You had shut yourself in your house most days, your maid running out to the market on your behalf and your assistant running errands to you and dropping chapters off at your editor’s office, the only time you really went out was when you went to the writer’s club, those four walls were a sanctuary for your troubled mind where you pull hear about the stories your friends wrote up or listen to the poetry readings from the other club members.

Your home on the other hand felt as if it grew a frightening aura, the place where you thought up of the tales and deaths in your stories that were an escape from reality became the source of actual deaths and mass murders. Your stories and tales became reality, not the fiction you intended to be.

As for the identity of the killer, no one has even a clue of who the Lord of Crime may be, not even any of your friends or yourself whose job was to write about mysteries and secrets. You all used to get your hands on old unsolved cases from Scotland Yard that were open to the public and solve them for fun as to get inspiration for your books, they were old and the culprit was long dead by the time you got your hands on the file, but this was something else entirely, this was an actual live and real threat.

It was late in the evening and you sat in an armchair in your drawing room, the evening’s newspaper in your lap and a cigarette in between the middle and index fingers of your right hand while a glass of red wine sat on the table next to you, it was an expensive vintage that Réne had gifted to you for your birthday. Across from you sat your friends, Lady Charlotte Basset in the other arm chair with a glass of wine herself along with Alex Pendel laying down your velvet sofa, her head propped up on the arm rest and a cigarette between her lips. Charlotte was a richly dressed woman, dark brown hair and green eyes that were only complemented by the emerald green dress she wore with her white fur shawl that you believed was mink fur. The two of them were going out to a music hall, a cabaret, later tonight but stopped here on the way to check up on you.

“You think this Lord of Crime likes the theater? Cause’ his crimes feel like one big act.” Alex said as she pulled the cigarette from her lips to speak and blow out a large puff of smoke into the air. “Think about it, it is suspected that he is behind the deaths on the Noahtic, and Réne was on it and he told me it literally ended up with them on the stage of the ballet, nearly scared some of the performers half to death apparently.”

“That is certainly one way to make a spectacle of your victims.” Charlotte added as she twirled the glass of red wine in her hand, but her eyes were fixed on nothing in particular, just gazing off as she loses herself in thought. “But you would need other people to assist with all of his little shows, as if the victim and killer are the cast then you would need the crew, the question is who are these allies to this so-called Lord of Crime?”

“Dunno, want me to write to my pop to ask him what he thinks.” Alex’s lips turned up in a teasing grin as she spoke those words. “Eh, but he’ll probably get pissed at the mention of what is happening to your books, I think my parents like you better than me.”

“As much as I love your family, I am not sure I want another crime lord to deal with in London.” You finally chimed in as you set your paper aside on the table next to you where your half finished glass of wine sat. “But honestly moving to America just sounds lovely right about now, do you think your parents will adopt me?”

“Probably.” Alex’s one word answer was responded with laughs from you and Charlotte. Then as silence settled in the drawing room there was a knock from the front door, your maid called out telling you that shade would get it, which allowed you all to continue your conversation. “But I am working on another rough draft for a book, but I am just stuck on the killer’s motive.”

“Oh, and what is your general idea?” Charlotte asked as you heard the sound of distant talking from the maid and your home’s visitor. “Are you going to write another novel with the notes from New York?”

“No actually, it is going to be about ten strangers who are invited to an isolated island by a mysterious host. And then they start to die one by one, leaving the remaining guests to realize that the killer is among them-“

“The problem with that is that the killer would unintentionally out themselves as such when they would be one of the people surviving.” An unfamiliar voice called out, butting in on your conversation. You all looked up to the doorway that led from the front entry into the drawing room and there stood next to your maid a young man, with messy dark hair that was pulled back into a short ponytail and eyes to match, he wore a simple button up and a black suit jacket and pants to match. “It’s just like how in that mass murder case six years back one of the survivors was the killer and they only found out years later when her son found her journal after she died.”

“Do… Do I know you?” You asked the stranger who had been let into your house and both Charlotte’s and Alex’s heads turned to look at him, Alex swung her legs over the edge of the couch so that she was sitting up straight in the presence of a stranger. The man walked up to you, walking past your friends present as if they did not exist and extended his hand to you to shake.

“The name is Holmes, Sherlock Holmes.” You noticed the glances of shock exchanged between Charlotte and Alex from where they sat. This was the famous detective of London, the best detective in the nation if not the world as a whole, and some of his cases did serve as inspiration for your novels. “You are the famous mystery author, Miss (Name), and if I had to guess your two friends are Alex Pendel, the American thriller novelist, based on her appearance on how she sits and the suit she is wearing was made and custom tailored by Catherine Donovan, I recognized it because my brother has suits made by her as well. Then your other friend is Charlotte Basset, another horror author, and she was by far the easiest to identify due to her father’s signet ring she wears on her thumb because it is too big for her ring finger.”

You watched as Alex began looking over her suit and the small brand initials that were embroidered on the cuff of her suit jacket and Charlotte looked down at the ring on her thumb which was indeed her father’s ring that he gave to her when she was a child because she kept on fidgeting with her hair and picking at her nails. You reached out to shake his hand, his rough calloused hands gripping your smaller gloved hands with a firm hold.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure of having the best detective in London in my home?” You asked as he released your hand, letting you sit back on your chair’s armrest. “Let me guess, it is because you found a scene in my book unrealistic like those detectives down at Scotland Yard.”

“Unrealistic, your work? Never, they just have never seen a murder scene like the ones in your books, like about a month ago I murder scene that reminded me a lot of one from one of your short stories, it was not linked to the Lord of Crime incidents as the culprit was of of the staff members but that is besides the point.” He grabbed the paper you had sat on the side table by your wine and pointed at the headline, it was about the murder of a duchess who had been abusing her staff and the crime was believed to be done by the Lord of Crime. “I would like you as my partner in solving this case.”

“Excuse me?” The words escaped your mouth in your state of surprise and you could see similar expressions on the faces of Alex and Charlotte. You pushed the hand that held the paper aside and the detective as a whole as you stood up from your seat. You walked across the room to where you fireplace stood, a small fire crackling in the hearth, above which on the mantle sat a collection of your books, custom hard back books that were bound by a book binder in your hometown who knew you as a child, a gift from the people who inspired you to write in the first place. “Mr. Holmes, I am a writer not a detective and I do not want to get more involved with this Lord of Crime mystery than I already am, it could destroy me.”

“But what if it doesn’t, you truly have nothing left to lose at this point.” You snapped your head around at him when he said that, sending him a sharp glare and you watched him stiff up for a moment before shaking it off, you heard him clear his throat and mention something about you reminding him of a Miss Hudson, whoever she is. “What I mean is you have not made a single public appearance since you returned to London from your time in the states and that is presumably about you finding about the related incidents to your work, then not to mention your physical appearance is a clear reflection of that previous observation, bags under your eyes and the redness around them presumably from you rubbing them shows you haven’t been sleeping. That’s not to mention the thin layer of dust I saw on the shoes and umbrella by the door, which shoes you have not been going out much-“

“I think she said she wasn’t interested and had no desire to be like you, Mr. Detective.” You watched as Alex stood up, walking up to where the detective stood, staring him down, and if there was one thing Alex was good at, it was being intimidating. “So please you can see yourself to the door.”

“But she is already like me, I have heard about you all at your club solving unsolved cases that Scotland Yard could never solve that are twenty, thirty, forty, even fifty years old. I think it is pretty obvious that you all are detectives in your own right.” Sherlock looks down at her as he speaks before snagging the cigarette from between her fingers and taking a smoke himself and you could just watch Alex grow more irritated by the second and was about to blow. “Now another thing I remember about my brother is the last time he stopped by he mentioned something about a certain crime family moving into England.”

You could just see Alex’s eyes grow wide while the rest of her face remained still. She stood there a moment before grabbing her cigarette from her detective and turning towards the entryway. “Cmon’ Charlotte, the show is at nine.”

You and Charlotte shot each other looks of disbelief as Alex made her way to the front door, but you just watched as she signed and downed the rest of her wine before setting her glass down on the end table near her seat before following after Alex, wrapping her mink fur tighter around her. You heard the front door open and close in your state of disbelief, leaving you and the detective alone. You both stood in silence for a long moment before he spoke up, breaking the lingering silence.

“So?”

“…What exactly do you need my help with?” Your question was begrudgingly asked and you just saw his expression light up like a child’s on Christmas when you finally gave in. “I cannot promise any help like I am an actual detective since I tend to approach situations how I would write them, I am an author first and foremost.”

“That’s fine, where is your study?” He was quick and straight to the point and you watched him walk out of your drawing room presumably to look for your study and home library. You watched as he walked to the doorway across from the doorway of your drawing room that was also connected to your entryway and he pushed open the doors to your study. You quickly followed him like you were a parent watching their excited child, trying to keep him wrong from wrecking anything. You cringed as he went behind your desk, looking at your manuscripts and journals that sat on top of it. “So this is where the great mystery author writes her stories. I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to see where you work or your work before it’s finished.”

“Um… yes, just please do not mess with anything, this is my life’s work after all.”

—————————

You have been working with the detective in your free time to try to solve this case, even then he would be showing up in your home while you were in your office writing or even when you were at the club, it got to the point where you maid had to tell him to stop showing up during your working hours since you needed to write in order to have a job and stay in business since you still had deadlines to meet. Your drawing room had been turned into a mess of Sherlock’s and your own clues, pieced and puzzled together, trying to find connections, though the difference between the two of your work was very clear, your clues were tucked in a series of folders, notebooks, and journals, meanwhile the detective’s were in the form of loose and sometimes torn up papers and notes that were now laid out throughout the carpet of your drawing room, you slightly feared that the carpet would stain with ink since it was a housewarming gift from your late father.

Despite all this, everything single clue you came across came to a dead end and led to no clear culprit. Your investigation made you truly realize what Alex meant when she told you one time how crime was truly a game, an act, to make it a spectacle for others to watch while the performers fight for control.

“How is your novel coming along?” Réne asked as you two sat in one of the lounges at the club. He sat on the couch across from your, his back pressed against the armrest so that his legs extended out on the cushions, he had his glasses resting atop his head so that they pushed back his hair as he worked on a sketch in his sketchbook that he had propped up on the thigh of his leg that was on the outside end of the couch that was bent into a V-shape. “Still struggling with that villain of yours?”

“I am afraid so, I have all the events laid out, the deaths and what not and how the killer did it, but I still have no motive for them.” You explained as you watched the maid of the club pour you a cup of an earl gray tea that Charlotte got for you all from a new tea shop a few blocks away from the writer’s club. You sat on an identical couch to Réne, though much more ladylike as you were about to have tea and not to mention the morning’s newspaper, that you had yet to read, resting on your lap. “Every time that it mentions the killer’s motive I just skip it over and leave it blank-“

“Sugar ma’am?”

“Two please, a dash of cream as well.” You answered the maid’s question as she prepared your tea for you before continuing on. “It is by far the worse writer’s block I have experienced to date, it has been weeks since I started writing and it would be practically finished if I could figure out my villains just give him life.”

“It is a him?”

“Yes… I think so anyway- oh thank you.” You cut yourself off as the maid handed you your cup of tea. You held the saucer in your left hand while you brought the teacup up to your lips, taking a sip to wet your throat. “But honestly this case with Mr. Holmes, trying to uncover this Lord of Crime has left me all sorts of frazzled that I cannot tell up from down when I return home at the end of the day, so I honestly think that I have my novel’s villain as some version of this Lord of Crime, a figure who cannot place, so close yet so far, just out of reach… I probably sound like a raving mad woman right now, don’t I?”

“A bit, yes.” Réne answered which grew a small giggle from you. His eyes never lifted from his paper as he spoke, his fingers still twirling around the pencil as he drew. “Speaking of our Lord of Crime problem, how many of your books are left in his little… hm….”

“Recreations?”

“Yes, that is the word I am looking for!” He said with a slight enthusiasm creeping into his voice as he flicked his pencil in the air at your answer. “But yes, how many are left? He has probably covered all your famous works by now.”

“Yes… well let me think….” Your voice faded for a moment as you went over your books in your head, the number of incidents has increased since your partnership with the famous, though not by choice, Sherlock Holmes had begun, but surely there had to be at least three or so books left, right? Well there was- no that was the first incident that happened while you were abroad in America. What about- no not that one either, you remember seeing that in the morning paper when Sherlock came running into your townhouse about it when you first started working. Then there was a moment of realization as you sat there, staring down at your tea, reflecting your face that has grown and probably aged a few years due to these cases. “…no.”

“No? That’s not a number- oh… that… I… I’m sorry.” Réne stopped his sketching in his realization, you could just practically see his expression when the silence was practically yelling at you.

“…Réne, since there are no books left, what if I am next?” Your question was just followed by more silence then you heard Réne’s pencil quickly scribble something on his paper before you heard the ripping of paper and the shifting of limbs as the fabric of his pants rubbed against the velvet couch cushions. He slammed his drawing down on the table between the two of you, where the tea set sat. You looked down at it and it was presumably of a man in a black coat and hat, but his face was covered by a smiling mask, the Lord of Crime, but across his neck was a thick and scribbled line as if he was beheaded. You looked up at Réne and he had a comforting smile across his face.

“Then I will do everything in my power to unmask him and protect you.” He fell back onto his couch, throwing his arms across the back rest, crossing his legs. “You are one of my best friends and he would be fool to think that I would not risk my own neck to protect you, and I know for a fact that Evelyn, Charlotte, and Alex would do the same… hell honestly Alex would be the worse enemy to have, she could make one call to her father and… well it would not be pretty and that is for certain.”

“Thank you, a friend like you is truly a rare thing, let alone four friends like you all.”

“I could say the same thing about you.”

The terrible silence had faded into a more pleasant and comfortable silence, but you looked down at the drawing and into those black hole of the mask where the eyes would be, faceless and unsettling that gave you a creeping feeling up your spine.

God it was unsettling…

It made you feel like you were being watched…

Just please make it stop…

Stop…

Stop…

STOP!

As if by reflex, you sprung up out of your chair and snatched up the drawing from the table, and this drew Réne’s attention to you again as a concerned expression set in on his face.

“Are you alright?”

“Alright… alr- Yes! I am perfectly fine, I… I just remembered I… I meant to send a letter to my mother and I left it in my study back home, I-I just really needed to do that!” A lie, that honestly you did not know why you told it, not even the slightest clue as to why. You grabbed your messenger bag from the ground, throwing it over your shoulder. “I-I should go do that, before I forget to and the post office closes.”

“O-oh, alright?” Réne seemed unsure of your sudden shift in behavior. “Do you need me to walk you home-“

“No!- I… I mean I’ll be alright….” You two once again stood in a tense silence as you looked back at each other with equally confused expressions. “…bye.”

You could only say that as you turned on your heel as you walked to the door of the club, the maid giving you your hand and coat as you were about to leave which you put on in a rush as you tried to get out the door to get out of the gazes of your friends and colleagues.

You stumbled out onto the streets of Mayfair, you did not bother trying to get a hackney, you needed the fresh air that is what you needed, you think. You nervously fidgeted with the strap of your messenger bag as you walked down the street, your eyes darting around at the brick pavement beneath your feet, not bothering to watch where you are going since the way back home was practically muscle memory-

Suddenly you were knocked over as a gentleman walked past you, the heel of your shoe getting caught in between the bricks that formed the pavement below you, an all too familiar scene for you, but you suppose that is what you get for not watching where you are going.

“I am so sorry- Miss (Name), we have met like this before have we not?” That voice was familiar to you, you looked up to see the smiling face of Professor William James Moriarty looking down at you, his gloved hand outstretched to you like that day at the docks on your return home. He cocked his head to the side slightly as he looked over your form as you took his hand and he pulled you up from the ground. “Are you alright? You look rather pale?”

“Y-yes… I-I am… No?…. Maybe- I really don’t know right now, I-I… I can’t think- god what is wrong with me?” You could not get your mind straight, your hands felt clammy and tingly… your entire arms at that… god was it always this hard to breathe? You can’t think, oh god why can’t you think? “I fear I am going mad, Profe- William.”

“You are trembling- oh dear, you are having a panic attack.” You could not process him coming to stand by your side, taking your messenger bag from you and his other hand coming to rest between your shoulder blades. “My family’s estate is only a few buildings down, let’s get you inside and sit down and Louis can make you a cup of tea, does that sound okay?”

“Y-yes, I think.”

“Okay, just take deep breaths.”

Your vision and memory came in flashes between sight and darkness… walking down the road, turning into a Mayfair estate with an iron fence with a red brick base beneath it… William pushing open the door and calling out to someone as he guided you into the drawing room… Him guiding you to lay down on the sofa in the room while someone else came into the room.

You could feel William’s hand held onto yours, letting you have something to ground yourself on, and you could hear William’s voice telling you…

“Take deep breaths, in and out.”

In and out…

In and out…

In and out.

His voice served as your thoughts, allowing you to calm down from the height of your panic attack. You could finally process what was before you, a white ceiling. You could process what you felt, the fabric of your dress, the velvet of the Moriarty drawing room couch, the warmth and leather from William’s gloved hand that held onto your own.

“Are you alright? Do you need anything?” You heard William ask you as you pushed yourself up with your free hand that was not squeezing the life out of William’s hand. “Louis is making you some tea, he nearly got a fright at seeing you in a panic, ran off to the kitchen in a rush- oh just lay down! You are probably light headed or dizzy, just wait to sit up until your tea is ready.”

“O-okay… thank you William.”

“It is the least I can do.”

A few minutes passed before the scent of citrus and spice hit your nose as Louis stepped into the room, setting the tea tray on the low table between all the pieces of lounge furniture in the room. William set a hand on your lower back, helping you sit as Louis poured a cup of tea for you. Louis gave William the cup of tea to hold with his free hand while his other hand rubbed comforting circles on your back, which was wiser than letting you hold it since your hands were shaking violently still.

“I am s-sorry… I-I…”

“There is nothing to be sorry about, my dear.” William replied as your voice trailed off into your scrambled thoughts. “It is natural to experience such fits under stress… which reminds me, if I may ask, what is on your mind?”

“Um… a lot….” You laughed after those two words, laughing at your madness as you ran your fingers through your hair and tugging slightly, your hat had fallen to the ground when William laid you down and Louis had picked it up and set it on the table. “My novel still has no antagonist, at least not one with a motive to kill nine other people- t-then not to mention I have to worry about a detective, who may or not be the love of my life of the bane of my existence but I may just be thinking that because I am going mad, and him appearing in my house at any hour of the day because he think he found a lead with the blasted Lord of Crime case- AND! That’s the other thing, this Lord of Crime, all of my books have been made a horrible reality by him and now there are not any books left and I have an aching fear in the back of my mind that I am next… I… I really am going mad, aren’t I?”

“You are not mad, you are in distress which is only natural, dear.” He said as he guided the tea cup into your hands, his hand coming to rest on the back of your own to keep you from dropping the cup as you brought it up to your lips and taking a sip. “Perhaps the Lord of Crime is just a fan of your work, I doubt he would dare to lay a finger on you.”

“Well he is certainly a fan I do not wish to have.” You said as the cup of tea parted from your lips and William set it back down on the table with a soft clinck. “This all has been driving me mad… honestly working with him has only made it worse, he is like an eager puppy.”

“By he, you mean the detective you are working with who I am guessing to be a Mr. Sherlock Holmes.” William stated but it sounded more like a question so you hummed softly in response. “I have met him a number of times before, brilliant mind, just a bit childish under certain circumstances. Also if I may suggest perhaps a small break is needed, for the sake of your mental health.”

“Ya… huh, maybe I should just quit this author thing.” You felt William stiff up at the mention of that, his hand that was running circles on your back freezing in place, but you honestly did not pay much mind since there was so much going on in your mind. “Or maybe I should just disappear entirely… that is something I thought about before, faking my disappearance, I know how I would do it too. Maybe take a ferry to France, go off and start a new life in Paris- or maybe America, I do have friends there who would probably adopt me into their family since they like me better than their own daughter, Miss Alex Pendel, you probably have heard of her-“

“You are rambling, breathe.” William cut you off, but you did not feel like you were rambling. “I am just suggesting a break, not to disappear, isn’t writing your life blood after all?”

“Yes… b-but I never wanted it to become this… I have created a monster.” You closed your eyes at that thought. You loved writing, it was why you lived, you thrived from it, but people were suffering from your stories… well they were, you have no more stories for the Lord of Crime to work with, if you did not publish another it would all stop, right? It had to. Your hands fell to your lap, clutching your skirt in your hands, as if you were trying to get your body to agree with your mind who has already made its decision. “…I am done.”

“Done? Whatever do you mean?”

“I… I cannot finish my next book, maybe my unfinished antagonist was a sign to stop while I am ahead.” You were facing forward, towards the table, so you could not see the sorrow and pain come across William’s face. “If I stop writing, then the Lord of Crime has nothing else to work with and no one else gets hurt because of me.”

“I… please think about this-“

“I have to go… I need to visit my publisher.” You stood up from the couch with your unsteady legs, grabbing your hat from the table. You did not spare William a glance as you made your way to the door, only words. “I am sorry William, I know you enjoyed my books, but I can’t live with myself if this happens again.”

The estate grew silent as you let, the front door closing being the last bit of sound within the house. Tears fell from William’s eyes and rolled down his cheeks, but his face remained emotionless. There was a few minutes of silence before his eyes fell on your messenger bag you had left behind. He tried telling himself it was wrong to go through your belongings, but what harm could it do now?

He grabbed the messenger bag from the ground, setting it on his lap as he opened it. He pulled out the contents one by one, makeup, pens, pencils, loose notes with plot thoughts of character ideas, but the two that caught his eyes more than anything else was a drawing, the drawing of the faces Lord of Crime from Réne, and a stack of papers that were bound in a leather portfolio, your unfinished masterpiece.

—————————

You stood in your study, tucking old papers and notes away into boxes to put in your cellar. You could not find your unfinished manuscript, you just assumed you must have left it at the Moriarty estate but it really did not matter since that book would never be seeing its conclusion. You had already written to your editor and met with your publisher, ending your partnership with both of them. As for work for the time being you made a enough money from your book sales still that you would be comfortable for a while, but maybe once things have settled in a few months or a year’s time you would accept one of those teaching jobs as a professor that had been offered to you at women's colleges in Oxford or Cambridge. Or your other thought was moving back up to your hometown in Northern England and help your mother with her shop, disappearing into the shadows forever.

You heard a knock at your front door which was followed by the footsteps of your maid as she went to answer it. You closed the lip on the last of the boxes, setting it on top of the stack of the others that had been packed by you earlier, when the doors to your office burst open to reveal the overly eager detective.

“Miss (Name), I think I found-“ Sherlock cut himself off as he stepped inside your emptied study, looking around only to see your life’s work in boxes, ready to be hidden away forever. He was clearly taken aback by all this, looking around the room with an uncertain eye. “What’s all this then?”

“I am quitting, Mr. Holmes.” That was all you needed to say for the detective’s expression to turn to disbelief at hearing your words. “Every single one of my worlds has been tarnished by this Lord of Crime and honestly I do not want to write another book just to give more fuel to the fire.”

“So you are just giving up?” The detective snapped back at you, taking you by surprise now. He was clearly angry and annoyed at your choice, that was certainly clear. “You are just laying down and choosing to die, is that it?!”

“Sherlock, I cannot continue to write when it will sentence people to death!” You yelled at him, gesturing back into the drawing room across the hall where stacks of clues and evidence sat on any flat surface, waiting to be cleaned up next after you packed everything up in the cellar. “Do you know how many people were going to die in my next book if I finished and published it?”

“No-“

“Nine! Nine people and their blood would be on my hands!” You cut him off with a shout, you could feel tears building up in your eyes as you yelled at him. “I can hardly live with myself knowing that my twisted works of fiction have become reality and taken so many lives, the least I can do is spare nine more.”

“We could catch him and you could continue your books-“

“Enough!” You shouted at the top of your lungs, and you watched as the detective grew red in the face as he became more and more angry and irritated at your actions. “I am not doing this anymore, I… I can’t… you are a detective, your job revolves around reality, I am… I was an author, I wrote fiction and I never wanted it to become reality.”

“Damn it all! It is all his fault! God damn this Lord of Crime” He shouted at you before rolling his eyes with the shake of his head and a heavy scoff. He turned on his heel, waving you off as he walked towards the front door of your townhouse. “Find me if you change your mind, but I won’t give up unlike you.”

You stood alone in your office as the front door opened and slammed shut which drew a squeak in surprise from your maid who was brewing tea in the kitchen for you. You leaned back on your desk, a sandalwood desk, a gift you got for yourself when your sales blew up after your first book which secured your position in England’s high society with your new money. The desk cost you what your childhood home cost when your mother and father bought it a few months before they had you. You worked to where you are today, living in an expensive townhouse in Mayfair, an area famous for its affluent residents, upscale shopping streets like Bond Street, world-class art galleries, exclusive members-only clubs, and its reputation as a luxurious and high-end area of London. You grew up in a small town, making flower crowns with your friends and jumping in the nearby creek that was by your childhood home, now you drink wine and champagne at parties held at manors of Dukes and Duchesses and wearing dresses that costed more money than your parents ever had when you were a child. You went on trips to Paris to study the catacombs and watch the Opera and went to New York to experience the nightlife and parties on Long Island and overhear what happened in the back rooms of the mansions of these new money families that controlled the country, divided among these families.

Your books let people indulge themselves into their dark thoughts without it being considered scandalous but rather a new trend, a competition to be exact, and in the words of Evelyn when she first met you…

“Everyone in London wants to know what is going on in that twisted little mind of yours to come up with the things you do.” It was at a high society party when she told you that, pulling you aside into the drawing room of the manor you were in, giving you a joint to smoke that you found out was from Alex’s family that may or may not have had the tobacco mixed with some form of cannabis, giving you both a small high, which definitely made clear where Evelyn’s moments of inspiration for her books came from that were full of pure body horror. “But then again, they all are obsessed with what they cannot fathom and what they are horrified by, it gives them a thrill, like a drug.”

There was a reason why the most popular authors of the age were of the macabre and gruesome, and Evelyn could not have phrased it any better, they were fascinated by what they could not or did not wish to fathom…

Alex’s stories let people see into the world of the mafia of the new world, romanticized in many ways, but the moods they elicit, giving their audiences heightened feelings of suspense, excitement, surprise, anticipation and anxiety, giving them a thrill. Fear of getting caught in a sex scandal or perhaps trying to hide a body before someone finds out that you were the one who rammed a knife into their skull.

Charlotte's novels touch on fundamental issues of human existence: the nature of the soul, the weighty fact of mortality, and the burden of ancestry and history. Spirits represent heavy-handed instruments of supernatural justice, plunging those responsible for their deaths into a living hell where they suffer for their sins. This world and what comes after.

Réne’s books are all about the terror within, not without. His work shatters the illusion of humanity in a poignant wayby holding a mirror up to society and saying: look at what we truly are, and look at what we pretend to be. Under that mask of civility, there is depravity. Under that thin veneer of society, there is wickedness. Under all the trappings of sophistication, are we not all predators or prey?

Little Evelyn had a wicked little mind, her genre examines a universal fear: our own failing anatomies. You rarely think about what goes on beneath your skin. You understand that the organs operate in harmony: the heart beats, the lungs pump air, and the gastrointestinal system labors to supply us with nutrients. But you don't ponder like she does the minutiae. Like whether embryonic parasites encyst in our brains, or what stage of cirrhosis we might be facing, or if tumors bloom deep in parts of ourselves we hope never to see. You have seen a grown man, an inspector at Scotland Yard at that, vomit after reading an excerpt from one of her books.

Your works on the other hand gave the people a taste of psychological suspense and atmosphere, developed as all the characters' innermost secrets are revealed, there is usually also a gradual build-up of tension before the murders actually occur, as if everything could slip at any moment and everyone’s secrets would be revealed and the world would all but crash and burn all around them, and the people along with it. The key factor, though, is that there is usually some ingenious piece of deception involved, just like how the Lord of Crime has been deceiving London with his mask and his show, drawing them all in all along, and now you were about to crash and burn with it all…

You shared Sherlock’s thoughts when he said damn it all…

Your maid was cleaning up the drawing room from all the papers and clues from your useless investigation with the detective when you finally came out of your study, your face stained red and swollen with your tears and six envelopes in your hands. Your maid looked up at you with a worried expression in her eyes as she saw the state of your face.

“My lady, are you alright-“

“Yes….” You took a nervous breath as you approached her, your heeled boots clicking on the hardwood at first which made your heart skip a beat, which was enough in your scared state of mind. You reached out to your maid with the envelopes in that hand, forcing a smile to come across your face as you did. “Could you drop these off at the post? They are to a number of my friends along with my mother and Mr. Holmes. You can head home after that, I think I shall turn in early tonight and I can handle this mess, after all I did make it with Mr. Holmes.”

“O-oh, very well my lady.” She responded as she took the envelopes from your hand, tucking them into her apron pocket. You stood there in the drawing room, swallowing the lump in your throat as you listened to the footsteps of your maid as she grabbed her coat and hat from the coat closet. You heard the front door open and then her voice called out to you. “Do you wish for me to pick up anything for you when I come back in the morning, My Lady? I remember seeing the bakery two blocks away selling a new sampler box of macarons, apparently their new patissier is from Florence in Italy.”

“Thank you, but I shall be alright.”

“Alright, goodnight then my lady.”

“Goodbye.”

—————————

It was a lovely spring day in London, a rare day without a cloud in the sky. William was walking down the street, his eyes fixed on a letter in his gloved hand that he received this morning, it was penned in your handwriting and the messenger boy said it was dropped off at the post office along with five other letters by a woman who matched the description of your maid, who he had met along with Louis when they ran into her by chance at the local bookstore when he was picking up a copy of your latest book, she and your assistant, a young lady who was hoping to be a journalist one day and you had taken her under your wing, were dropping of signed copies that you were donating to the shop, your maid told the brothers that you would have dropped them off yourself but you were leaving for a six month long trip to the Americas, New York City specifically, so you could research something you were curious on with the night life of that side of the world and who ran it.

He spotted the house with the address on the envelope, 600 North Audley Street, which was, as the street name suggested, just north of Grosvenor Square in Mayfair. The house has a number of barricades around it and a number of officers of Scotland Yard along with four other figures, all of them he recognized, Sherlock Holmes with no sight of Dr. John H. Watson, there were also the famous authors Réne Drew, Lady Charlotte Basset of York, and the little miss Evelyn Jay, and all of them, including the detective, held a letter similar to the one William held, but all of their faces were riddled with worry, except Sherlock Holmes, but William knew he would crack in private.

“I see you all have received letters like myself.” William called out to the bunch who awaiting outside of the door of your townhouse, looking around he also spotted your house’s maid and your own personal assistant sitting on the brick stairs that led up to your front door, surrounded by Scotland Yard officers asking them questions which explains why he could not see them from afar, but they were in such a state of shock that neither of them could hardly answer a single question and even if they could, they did not know the answer. William held up the piece of paper he received with a smile. “I see we all know the author.”

“And who you might be?” Lady Charlotte snapped at him, her eyes narrowing. William knew a bit about her and her family, her brother had been suspected of murder a number of years ago, the summer before their writing club was founded to be exact, which while the heir of the family was found innocent this fact about the club led William to believe she had something to do with it especially since the victim was the man she was arranged to be married to. Her face was as rigid as her clothing looked, a scarlet red gown that probably costs more than most dresses women of the town could even afford and her signature white mink shawl. “I do not recall (Name) ever mentioning you before-“

“Well I certainly did not expect to see you here, Liam.” Sherlock cut the lady author off as he laid eyes upon the mathematics professor. “This is Professor William James Moriarty, a friend of mine, but I am surprised you knew Miss (Name). Now I truly wished we all could have met that day on the train back from York, a competition with one worthy opponent is one thing but with two is another entirely! I thought for a time she might be the Lord of Crime if her behavior did not show otherwise and the evidence proved her innocence under every instance-“

“Would you shut up!? Do not mention this whole Lord of Crime bullshit now!” Réne snapped at the detective, seizing him by the collar and bringing his face close to his own as the French author was filled with a rage that was clear as day. William had heard that the famous Réne Drew was normally a calm and composed man, maybe a bit too relaxed due to his occasional indulgence in wine and the arts, but this was a different man entirely based on their behavior. “My best friend is missing and you thought she was was the fucking Lord of Crime?! Was that the only reason you wanted to work with her?! Answer me, damn it!”

“She is what?” William was shocked by this statement by the Frenchman, he must have looked like a surprised cat when he heard his, eyes wide but the rest of his face remaining still, because all faces turned to him, but the young Evelyn Jay was the one who approached him, and she was the one who appeared most unbothered by the situation if bothered at all.

“It did not mention it in your letter, telling you that she is not to be looked for and that no one would find her even if they tried.” She handed William her letter and it indeed had written what she claimed it did, but it was far different than his own which he handed to the young lady to read, which she did do so. He had only really heard rumors about the morbid young author, that she watches illegal awake surgeries as inspiration for her books or that she had been in the habit of paying people to steal dead bodies for her so she could see how the human body would react to various situations that would be highly traumatic on the body so she could use that for her books. Evelyn calmly read his letter silently before handing it back to him. “It would seem that Professor Moriarty received a different letter than the rest of us seeing as he was not informed of her disappearance. But it is indeed true, she went missing sometime last night, her house is an absolute disaster, but Mr. Holmes found that was done by her due to nothing highly valuable or sentimental being damaged, proving there was not a real struggle, but a set up but the reason why is still unknown. Her maid and assistant were the ones to find the staged scene this morning when they arrived together this morning after having breakfast at a nearby bakery, scared them half to death, then the rest of us arrived not long after, rushing here after we received the letters-“

“Sorry I’m late!” A feminine voice with a thick New York accent called out from down the road, the same direction William arrived in. Everyone looked to see Miss Alex Pendel, dressed in her favorite red suit which drew stares from anyone who did not know her. William had heard about her family, a crime family who practically has all of the state of New York in the palm of their hand; the city that shared the name was the heart of their organization. She waved in her hand a slip of paper that did not look remotely similar to the ones the other held, her own was a telegram, so someone had sent for her when they found out she was missing the three other authors present were the most obvious suspects. But the American author was a part of your inner circle like the other three, so why did she not receive a letter? “Seems like everything that I was told is true, she really is missing.”

“Yes, it is good to see you received my telegram, Alex.” Evelyn chimed in, glancing past William to her closest friend. So Evelyn was the one to send the telegram, but the question was how did she know Alex was the only one not to receive one. Evelyn glanced around at the others who must have been coming to a similar conclusion as the professor. “I figured that (Name) may not write to Alex since she had just returned home from a trip from the Netherlands last night, I only knew she was back because I was the one who fetched her from the docks.”

“I see.” William responded to the young lady’s gleeful tone. She twirled around the center of the circle of the geniuses to face William once again with that ever so innocent smile on her face which was almost unsettling in these circumstances which made William think perhaps to look back into those rumors he heard about her before. “If she is missing then what shall we do since she does not wish to be found?”

“A competition! Let us see who can find her first!” The smile on her face grew even wider when she said those words, this was a game to her, just like the aristocrat who perished on the Noahtic for hunting humans for sport, the difference being that she has a good heart beneath all the gore and horror. “I do not know about you professor, but the rest of us are all forms of crime related geniuses both fictional and reality.”

There was a stunned silence among the other authors, and a smile coming across Sherlock’s face in glee at the idea. William heard a scoff from the American author next to him and he glanced over to her to see her with an expression he could not quite place. “Pass, I’m afraid I will be returning to America in a few weeks.”

“So soon? You went on that trip with (Name) a few months ago?” Evelyn’s smile falters into an expression of curiosity as Alex makes that comment. “I remember you telling us how much your family enjoyed (Name’s) company.”

“There is no need to remind me about their favoritism.” Alex snapped back at her friend before quickly calming back down with a sigh. “But yes, I am afraid so, I need to get some papers settled with my father and brothers about some changes to our family’s mansion.”

That day of your panic attack…

“Also if I may suggest perhaps a small break is needed, for the sake of your mental health.”

“Ya… huh, maybe I should just quit this author thing.” You felt William stiff up at the mention of that, his hand that was running circles on your back freezing in place, but you honestly did not pay much mind since there was so much going on in your mind. “Or maybe I should just disappear entirely… that is something I thought about before, faking my disappearance, I know how I would do it too. Maybe take a ferry to France, go off and start a new life in Paris- or maybe America, I do have friends there who would probably adopt me into their family since they like me better than their own daughter, Miss Alex Pendel, you probably have heard of her-“

“You are rambling, breathe.” William cut you off, but you did not feel like you were rambling. “I am just suggesting a break, not to disappear, isn’t writing your life blood after all?”

“Yes… b-but I never wanted it to become this… I have created a monster.” You closed your eyes at that thought. You loved writing, it was why you lived, you thrived from it, but people were suffering from your stories… well they were, you have no more stories for the Lord of Crime to work with, if you did not publish another it would all stop, right? It had to. Your hands fell to your lap, clutching your skirt in your hands, as if you were trying to get your body to agree with your mind who has already made its decision. “…I am done.”

A small smile came across William’s face as he recalled this and looked at Miss Alex Pendel…

So that is why you did not write to her.

—————————

The heat of the summer day had faded away with sunset, leaving the countryside of England to grow quite a chill as you walked through the dark country paths on your way to the train station, if it could be called that since it was more of a platform as there was no building beside the ticket office from where you bought your ticket the day prior, that as a short walk from the small town you were staying in in a house provided by Alex’s family who aided you in stage it your disappearance a few months prior, three months to be exact. Alex had visited you a few day ago upon her return from her brief trip to her hometown to let you know that everything was ready for your arrival, she gave you a boat ticket, and told you that her mother and father would pick you up upon your arrival and then your new life would begin and this life would be eased into nothing but history, a small price to pay to rid yourself from your old life that had been absolutely tarnished. Your time in America had inspired you for another story, it was not a crime, but a romance influenced by the environment you have seen in both England with the old and new money, and then America with the lively atmosphere there. You had not thought much about it besides the name of one of the characters, the flowers outside your cottage door in this small town you had been staying in these last few months were daisies, you always liked those flowers and that name, Daisy.

You walked up the stairs of the train platform and it was very dark, you could hardly see without the lamp posts that guided your way. Now as you stood at the edge of the train platform you could see a distant figure sitting on one of the benches. There was only one lamp that was posted over the ticket office door, so you could not see the details of the figure who sat on the bench. You could hear the distant whistles of the train, it was a few miles away but you could hear it clearly due to the dead silence of the countryside at night. Your boots clicked against the ground as you approached the bench next to the figure who you assumed was waiting for the train. You sat down on the other bench, setting your hard back suitcase on the ground next to you before reaching into your pocket and pulling out your pack of cigarettes and a match, you lit your cigarette that you places between your lips to hold it along with your other hand that did not hold your match and right as you were about to shake out the flame from the match you heard footsteps of the person on the other bench get up and approach you, making you stop and pause. The fire illuminated the person’s features in a flickering light as you looked up at him, and your expression was taken by shock as he smiled down at you with those red eyes.

“Professor Moriarty… What in god’s name are you doing here?” You pulled away the cigarette from your lips as you spoke to him, looking up at his smiling expression with a confused gaze as your eyes were locked with his which reminded you of blood. Something was not right, you had no doubt in your mind that William went to your house after receiving your letter which told him he could keep the unfinished work you left at his home as a gift to him for his kindness to you, but was he looking for you like the others were in their little competition?

“I finished reading the work you left me on the train ride here and I have to say it is by far your best work.” He spoke, completely ignoring the question you asked which gave you a pounding worry and anxiety in your chest.

“Thank you… but I must ask you to answer my questi-“

“Your killer, the method in which they did it truly fooled me, I never expected them to fake their own death.” You could feel the pounding in your chest as you looked up at the professor who still did not answer your question. You could feel the anxiety and worry in your chest turn into dread as you looked in his red eyes, just like blood.

“William-“

“They do lack a motive still, I remember you mentioning that you were struggling with that detail.” You saw him raise his right hand in your peripheral vision, but you could not quite see what he was holding as your eyes were still locked with his own. “But perhaps I can help?”

You were almost afraid to break eye contact with him and look at what he was holding, god you felt sick, but why?! You felt William’s gloved hand turn your head slightly but gently, forcing you to look at what he was holding, it was Réne’s drawing of the Lord of Crime, or as he titled it at least.

Wait-

That was it!

Your eyes widened in shock and horror at your realization…

That question you asked to Réne the day of your panic attack…

“Since there are no books left, what if I am next?”

You turned your head to look at William once again and when his scarlet red eyes narrowed at you in the darkness, only lit by the fire of your match for your cigarette, it sent shivers down your spine.

“You are the Lord of Crime.”

“Correct, I have to say I have been wondering if you or Mr. Holmes would figure it out first, but it seems you beat him to it even if I had to spell it out for him.” The smoke was building up between the two of you as your cigarette was just burning up, and the smoke was almost making it hard to breathe. Your palms were growing sweaty in your terror, correction, your entire body was burning up like your cigarette and the flame on your match and his smile certainly did not help with that. “I first found out about one of your books when an associate of mine was reading one of your novels on the way back from the mission site. While Louis did not fancy it that much, he did recommend it to me and I will say I was skeptical at first but then I have to say I was proven wrong when I opened up one of your books. People read your books to be taken into the mind and the world of someone they cannot fathom or do not wish to, but honestly when reading your works it is finally a world I can understand, a world created by someone who can understand my mind and keep up with me. I wondered if your fictional crimes could survive in the real world so I took a risk and tested my theory and followed your books like a script and I have to tell you my dear that you fooled everyone.”

“You realize I could report you now, do you not? You have not only revealed yourself but the identity of one of your associates with the mention of your brother.”

“Yes, but I doubt that you will have the chance.” Before you could ask what that meant he spoke up again, drowning out the sound of footsteps approaching you from behind between his voice and your loud heartbeat that roared in your ears already. “Question, if I gave you back your unfinished work, would you finish your villain?”

“Not a chance.”

“Shame.”

Your match went out and everything went black.

—————————

You did not like the new weight on your left hand ring finger, it made it far too difficult to hold paper down when you wrote and it made your fingers feel swollen not to mention how it smears the ink, but William insisted you wear it now since you are to be married in a month's time. You cringed at the thought of being married, especially to him, you two had already met with your publisher earlier this week to have your pen name changed to switch to your future last name for any future printings of your novels.

Then there was also the gossip of these entitled little rich girls who romanticize your engagement to him and you heard the gossip as you walked through the streets on William’s arm saying how they wished to be in your place and you just wanted to tell them they could be, it would be a good reality check for them. Then there were your friends, you have not seen any of them in months, Réne, Evelyn, and Charlotte not since before your disappearance, and then Alex you have not seen some you were engaged. You could not make yourself face any of them now, it would make you sick-

“Dear, are you alright? You look rather pale.” William’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you were back in the drawing room of the Moriarty brother’s estate in Durham, William thought it would be good for you not to be England when your newest book releases so you could avoid the press and fans, all who wanted their questions about you answered, and needless to say William did not want those questions answered.

“Yes… I just find myself out of it nowadays.” You answered as your eyes were still fixed on the cup of tea Louis had poured for you a few minutes prior. You heard William sigh and close the book he was reading and setting it down where he was sitting to move over to where you were sitting on the sofa.

“You have not touched a single cup of tea since you started writing again-“

“Since you kidnapped me.”

“I did what was best for you, it was eating you alive not to pick up a pen again.” He snapped back to your correction of his statement. William sighed as he places a hand over one of your own that was resting on your thigh and he spoke to you with a tone that almost trickled you into believing he cared about you. “I only want what is best for you and you will only strain yourself if you continue to push everyone away like you are.”

You just rolled your eyes and let your mind drift off again as you thought back on these last few cruel months that started all the way back upon your return to England, you should have just stayed in New York…

Ten little Soldier Boys went out to dine; One choked his little self and then there were nine…

Nine little Soldier Boys sat up very late; One overslept himself and then there were eight…

Eight little Soldier Boys travelling in Devon; One said he'd stay there and then there were seven…

Seven little Soldier Boys chopping up sticks; One chopped himself in halves and then there were six…

Six little Soldier Boys playing with a hive; A bumblebee stung one and then there were five…

Five little Soldier Boys going in for law; One got in Chancery and then there were four…

Four little Soldier Boys going out to sea; A red herring swallowed one and then there were three…

Three little Soldier Boys walking in the zoo; A big bear hugged one and then there were two…

Two little Soldier Boys sitting in the sun; One got frizzled up and then there was one…

One little Soldier Boy left all alone; He went out and hanged himself…

and then there were none….

…you have to live with the fact that your book took nine more lives and had to hope that one day the tenth would join the others sooner than later.

[cwritesforfun]

Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader: Things I Love About You

He’s been in love with you since he met you.

Y/N = Your Name

** I do not own the Outer Banks characters or plot. I will be changing some of the plot btw.

Normal font = Present tense Italics = Flashbacks set in the past tense. You'll get it, I promise. (Also, don't do drugs kids.)

Masterlist

Rafe's POV

I exclaim, “I love you.” Y/N asks, “What do you mean you love me?” I answer, “Well … I knew that you were the only one for me when we reconnected at the Boneyard party. I always found you attractive, but you were friends with my sister. But then we reconnected and I fell for your big beautiful eyes that saw me for who I am. And your adorable laugh that makes me happy."

Going to parties to drink is the only way to escape everything at home. Having sex with a girl was usually a perk. The drugs were to help me do all the above and to feel lighter than air. The Boneyard was nice when you were drunk and only then.

I see this girl who used to be Sarah's best friend sitting and drinking alone by the fire. Sarah would never tell me what happened between them. I suddenly want to know... Y/N looks a lot hotter now, which is certainly a perk to talking to her.

I walk over and sit on the log next to Y/N in front of the fire and say, "Y/N, I haven't seen you since you were so little." Y/N half-smiles and says, "You were smaller too." I ask, "So why are you sitting alone? I thought you had friends." She answers, "I do have friends, they're just not here. They said they would be though... And I don't want to talk to your sister or be near my ex so that also limits who I talk to." I ask, "Who's your ex? I didn't know you were dating anyone." She replies, "Rafe, we haven't talked in years. Duh, you don't know my personal life... My ex cheated on me with... guess who... Sarah!" I reply, "Oh sh** no way!... So you were dating Lenny Boy, then?" She answers, "Yeah Lenny Boy couldn't keep it in his pants." I reply, "That's no way to treat a woman, I'll be right back."

I storm over to Lenny and exclaim, "Hey Lenny, my man. You don't disrespect women, you idiot." I punch him in the nose and walk back to Y/N.

I take my seat again and ask, "Where were we?" We talk almost the rest of the night.

Y/N says, "We didn't even kiss, how can you say you fell for me?" I ask, "When you know, you know. I fell for your smile and your eyes and your ability to make me feel understood. Then when we kissed, I knew you were it for me and I would do anything to be in a relationship with you. Your little strawberry lip gloss and your sweet perfume take over... and I'm yours." She laughs and asks, "Why did we go out for a sunset picnic for our first date?" I answer, "I thought it seemed romantic."

I was so nervous to take out Y/N on a date. I ended up enlisting Wheezie to help me choose my outfit and to help me decide what food to make. Wheezie actually helped me cook too. I was stressed and wanted everything to be perfect for Y/N.

I arrive at Y/N's house and she's sitting outside. She waves and skips over to my car. She climbs inside and I ask, "Are you ready for the best picnic you've ever had?" She answers, "Yes I am. I'm very hungry."

I drive us to a beach that is like 30 minutes away instead of the Boneyard, so we don't run into many people. We place the beach towel down and we sit together. I unpack and show her everything.

After we eat and talk. we lay down on the beach towel next to each other and I slip my hand over hers. She takes my hand and I feel butterflies in my stomach. I ask, "Is it okay if this is a date?" Y/N answers, "It's more than okay. I would prefer it." I ask, "And what if I kissed you? Would that be okay?" She answers, "I would like to kiss you, yeah."

I ask, "Did you even know that Wheezie helped prepare all the food for that first date?" Y/N laughs and answers, "I assumed because of how good it was." I gasp and say, "Wow rude." She laughs and says, "No but seriously it was the best first date." I reply, "And it will be your last first date." She smiles. I exclaim, "I almost told you that I loved you last week at the Boneyard. But I thought you deserved better than a drunk I love you at a party."

I pick up Y/N for the Boneyard party, we kiss, and we drive there. We get drinks and then sit by the fire. Y/N exclaims, "You should go be with your friends. I'm sure they miss you with how much we've been together." I reply, "I only want to be with you though." She replies, "Ok but your friends are shooting daggers with their eyes over here... I think you should go say something... I'll go get another drink. I'll be fine." I ask, "Fine, kiss me first?" We kiss and I walk to my friends.

I lose track of time with Topper and the boys.

I look for Y/N and see her laughing with Sarah... weird... I'm not walking over to interrupt that. Sarah and I are not the closest right now. Y/N looks cute though. Hopefully, no one thinks she is up for grabs.

I feel arms wrap around me and I smell that sweet perfume. I turn in Y/N's arms and we kiss. She tries to pull away and I pull her back into another kiss.

She says, "Babe babe, let me breathe." I reply, "Sorry, I didn't want anyone to think you were single." She replies, "Ok, Mr. Jealous." I slip my arms around her waist and we talk together.

Y/N exclaims, "You know you don't have to worry about other guys, you're it for me too." I smile and ask, "Really?" She answers, "Yes, I love you, Rafe Cameron." I smile and pull her into a kiss. I then ask, "And what do you love about me?" She asks, "Why don't I show you?" Oh...

[thebearme]

Here's my Parappa hcs and reimagine ideas for Matt & Paula

Sunny

Sunny is a cosmo flower like her mother.

Because of her mother's recent death, her dad Potter became UBER PROTECTIVE. The classic "ur the last thing of her, I have to protect you" you know.

Unrelated thing but idk when I'll ever talk about this guy but Potter HAS to be half object head, the only plant thing apart of him is his hair. idk maybe yall can figure it out... also i think he gave birth to sunny and no i will not elaborate.

Sunny is asexual and intersex but what do you expect, she's a plant.

She got all her arm strength from her dad. All those home military drills really helped.

She's superb at skateboarding but tends to not do so beings she doesn't want to get her dress ruin. But give her time to change, and she'll start shreddin.

Sunny has Bipolar disorder type 1.

Sunny grew up a lil sheltered. She lives in the middle of the woods and only goes into town for groceries! She started going out more and more when she started school for the first time, especially after she got some friends.

I'm taking this headcanon from the fic life in parappa town and expanding it but Sunny is in this plant belief system where you stay loyal to Mothernature and when you die you'll become a part of her. She doesn't eat meat, she gives back to nature and be kind to all Mothernature's creatures.

Sunny take cares and own her mother's "small" farm. She used to give her produce to the community for free, but because of the government finding out about that, she had to put it on pause. She either sells it for big money, or the government will take her land and profit from it them self.

Parappa

Parappa is his rap name. His name is Pa and his nickname is Pappy.

He's a bagel and hound mix, but has more bagel dog tendencies.

He's hat was bought by his mom before she left.

Parappa's mom divorce her husband after one too many financial crises, just when Parappa was just graduated high school. (explaining the past tense in PtR2) Leaving Pappy with Papa Rappa while she takes care of Pinto herself.

His Mama always encouraged Parappa to reach his dreams as long it wasn't expensive. So after everything, Parappa was more determined than ever to believe in himself and never give up.

Parappa would do anything for Sunny, he would kill Joe Chin even!

After a while working at the videogame shop, Parappa will later work for Master Onion cuz at least he pays him.

Parappa has the n card cuz he's cool like that. im tired of hearing 'who gave him the n card?' well maybe he just born with it. stop judging my dog bro

Parappa's rapping career just recently started. He began rapping his poems by the end of high school, luckily for him his best friend has connections to get him up there.

He grew up with classic 80s-90s rap. Pappy is an oldhead.

Pappy is anti-drug, anti-gun rights and a BIG ACAB. He is a huge believer that 'only community can fix the issues and not some cops that with guns trying to make the problem worst' but if you listen to parappa's album you've probly already saw this coming.

He still an up-and-coming artist, eventho he's known around the town and performed with Club fun's mc twice... he just started selling his first album.

Pappy is pretty smart and could have got into a science major like his dad but choose music instead. His father wept.

Parappa guessed that Katy is lesbian years before she started dating Lammy because the god awful dates she would go on.

Parappa loves frogs, they're his favorite animal.

He has a concentration issue, dude can't stay on track for the life of him. And no he doesn't know he has ADHD.

His ass has maladaptive daydreamer.

Boxy boy was made for Parappa by his dad because of tendency to daydream everywhere and anywhere, he gives him sense.

Pappy has a stuttering and lisp problem, but it adds an interesting element to his raps.

Pappy can NOT keep a secret. He WILL tell Sunny!

He got orange hair

Pj

Pj or further known as King Berri is still the same as always, maybe a lil more tired.

He uses king as a stage name so he can have a bit of his fantasy come true.

Eats weed brownie everyday.

Pj now wears a hooding for pure comforter, it like wearing sleepingbag at all times.

Pj seems very comfortable with his life but he really just compliant.

Pj is estranged from his family. They have not talked in years and he doesn't plan on changing that.

Just like everyone, Pj doesn't hate being a dj but just hate working. All the fun he had for his craft was gone a long time ago. But if he still gets paid by his boss MC Mushi and gets his 'stuff' then his fine.

Pj is brutally honest to Parappa like always, someone got to be the straight man in the friendship.

He's the most likely in the friendship to get the other in trouble.

Pj lives in the college housing, particularly in the basement. He just likes it down there. But funny enough, it turns out the house doesn't stay as empty as what the staff said it would be.

He's roommate is Matt. He's not that bad when you get to know him, He's just a bit snobby, know-it-all and WAY to competitive... but chill? Ok he's a Chin but hey, atleast he's better then Joe.

Him and Matt met one rainy day when the power went out and Matt got jumpedscared but the bear in the basement.

Katy

Chatty Katty was her nickname back in high school and even in the college campus right now. She gets this nickname not because she talks bad of anyone, honestly the opposite. She talks up everyone she knows! Right after talking up herself.

Katy was a church goer growing up, so no duh she'll know everyone in the community.

Her and Pappy were in the church choir growing up, that's how they met. Later she got introduced Pj in school, the three of them started hanging out after that.

Parappa gives the biggest little brother vibe to Katy.

Katy has the vocabulary of a old lady and it's because of the older lady she works with at the diner.

Katy is that friend that went on so many bad dates, tells you about and it makes you think HOW the hell are you still dating men??

She met Lammy after running into each other from the college lecture hall. And she immediately invited her to the milkcan band practice.

Lammy and Katy were a will-they-won't-they thing then they met. Lammy likes Katy but doesn't think she would like her, Katy likes Lammy but doesn't think she's likes women so she continues going for men.

Katy has been going to church less as she goes into college, jobs, dates, band practice and battling the gay thoughts. oooo scary

Katy and Sunny met in middle school, Katy never liked the idea of girls tearing each other down. And Katy was right, Sunny was sweet as she thought.

Katy introduced Sunny to the boys and everyone went nicely, they shared lunch together.

Paula

Paula is base off a kit fox, she just put makeup over her facial mark.

She's got abit of rewrite; She's from a new money household but unlike her parents that fell into complete greed, She's still her old self.

Paula is a tomboy at heart and her true love is basketball and women.

She's a business major oooo. AND the captain of the basketball team.

She still beefing with Katy but you know- it's a friendly rivalry. Or at least it becomes one.

Paula has a little crush on Sunny after meeting her but she's very respectful about it and very real told anyone about it... besides Katy... who told Pj... who told Matt... who told Parappa... who told Sunny. But otherwise Paula got turned down rather nicely and took it well.

Matt

Matt and Joe are doodles, partially a cockapoo.

He is the younger brother of Joe Chin and makes it his LIFE GOAL to be Parappa's rival.

He bascally bradley for the extremely goofy movie.

Matt has a big gay crush on Pappy but he refuse to admit!

Joe Chin got to inherit the family business without even doing anything and Matt is really mad about that. So he's in school for a business degree and in the frat club for extra bonus points. All to impress his parents and get the family business instead.

Ok not related to Matt hcs but just one thing- I think Joe Chin is a womanizer manipulative creep! That's why Matt is a funny villain while Joe is a flatout villain villain.

There more hcs in the bottom but I didn't feel comfortable putting up with more of the light hearted stuff so...

darker things below, read with caution.

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 17

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words: 5k

TW: Alcohol , mention of drugs

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Saturday, November 14; 1:25 PM - Home

I helped Sam and Sofia clear the plates. They were so surprised by my initiative that they didn’t dare say anything. I guess my punishments in the cafeteria paid off. I’ve handled hundreds of plates, so four won’t kill me. I sent Joan upstairs to get ready for three o’clock. It was a bit of a struggle because he didn’t want to let go of me, but I eventually managed. After all, we don’t need to rush. I wanted to enjoy my stay by spending some time alone in the garden. I put on my shoes and my military jacket before heading out. I walked to the back, away from prying eyes, and sat on the perfectly trimmed grass, even though it was wet from the humidity. I smiled as I let my fingers trail over the plaque in front of me.

“Hey, Dad. It’s been a while, huh?”

It had been a long time since I’d been here. The last time was a month and a half ago, the day before I left. Nothing has changed. They didn’t even remove the flowers I’d left. Proof that no one has been here since. I pulled my knees close and wrapped my arms around them. I stared at the photo on the plaque. I remembered it like it was yesterday, the fuss I made to my mom to set up a memorial place. He’s not really here. His grave is in Portugal. I needed an accessible place, and for once, she understood.

“Sorry I didn’t come sooner,” I murmured. “Let’s just say Mom outdid herself this time,” I chuckled nervously. “I regret that you’re not here to throw a wrench in her plans.”

It might seem strange to some, but I’ve gotten used to coming here to confide. My dad was always my confidant, and I didn’t want to lose that habit, even if he’s no longer here in flesh and blood. This place allows me to clear my mind when I need to. I think it’s the right time to do that today.

“I’m in Manchester now, at a private school, kind of like a military school. Can you believe it? Me, in there?” I giggled. “Hard to believe, right? Yet, I’m still alive after a month and a half. It’s not that bad, actually. It’s just the idea that’s scary.”

I paused to gather my thoughts. If he were still here, he would never have let Mom put me in a place like that. He would have supported me and defended me to the end, knowing I didn’t want to go.

“It was really tough at first. You would’ve had a good laugh. I thought I could get myself expelled, but I met someone stronger than me. I have a personal instructor, and believe me, she makes my life impossible. She reminds me a lot of you,” I murmured.

I let my head fall on my knees and closed my eyes. The cool breeze hit my face. I took a deep breath. I needed to tell him. I needed to talk to someone about what I really think, and I knew this was the perfect place to do it.

“She’s fair in her choices and punishments. I had a hard time adjusting, but I adapted. It’s been a long time since I had someone authoritative like her on my back. She takes care of me and does everything to show me that I can succeed. She gives me confidence, like you did when you were still here. You always had the right words to lift my spirits.”

I sighed deeply. I missed him way too much. Tears formed at the corners of my eyes. I wiped them away with the back of my hand.

“I’ve also made a lot of friends. New friends. They’re very nice to me. One even accepted me for who I am. Her name is Alexia. She knows I’m gay. She encouraged me to tell the others, and I did. They all took it very well. I feel at home and I trust them… But the one I trust the most is Lucy, my instructor. I really wish you could meet her, you would have loved her.”

I stopped talking and lifted my head when I heard someone call me. I’d recognize that voice anywhere. I sighed, dreading the next few minutes. I got up, not forgetting to place a kiss on my hand before putting it back on the plaque.

“I have to go, but I’ll try to come back tomorrow before I leave. I love you, Dad.”

I sensed my mother’s impatience as she called me in a less pleasant manner. I sighed and walked back to the house. As soon as I stepped through the patio door into the living room, I ran into her. She was sitting in a chair with her arms crossed and a stern look on her face. It seemed the three weeks without seeing me hadn’t calmed her down. She invited me to sit on the couch across from her. I sat down and waited for it to happen. I was about to get an earful… I looked up to see her analyzing me in detail. She stared into my eyes before finally speaking.

“I don’t understand you,” she began. “I really don’t understand how a girl like you, with so much potential, manages to ruin everything. I sent you to that school to give you a chance to start over! Why do you always feel the need to mess everything up!?”

“Stop,” I murmured.

“No, I won’t stop this time! Stop acting like a child, Ona! You never wanted my help, so I thought this school would be beneficial, but even being there, I realize you’ll never change! Will there never be a way to get my little girl back? You went to Manchester having used drugs, for heaven’s sake! Do you realize your immaturity?! Did you think about your loved ones for a single second? About how worried they are about you?!”

I clenched my fists. It’s the pot calling the kettle black! She didn’t give me time to respond and kept accusing me of worrying everyone. Mapi would have come here to check on me. I wasn’t really in a state to give her any news. Maybe I should have asked Bronze to do it for me, but I had other things on my mind. I let her get angry, taking in the hurtful words she hurled at me. Eventually, she stopped, and I took advantage of the moment to spill my own thoughts.

“It’s your fault I’m like this!” I raised my voice. “Stop blaming everything on me when you have your share of responsibility!”

“I don’t see why it should be my fault!” she snapped.

And there it was. The tone already escalated. We’d never manage to have a normal conversation together. We couldn’t stand each other. Our views were different, and there was clearly a lack of communication.

“You’re the one who decided to start your little life with your new family without caring about me once!”

“Stop always blaming me for the same things, Ona! You’re not the center of the world!”“

- I always blame you for the same things because you don’t understand! You don’t even realize that you’re pushing me aside!

- And you? You’ve never given me a place in your life! No matter how much I try to help you, you never accept me! I’ve tried to understand you, but you’re completely closed off! The girl I knew was full of life! She laughed and smiled all the time. She’s certainly not this teenager who constantly throws tantrums and makes mistakes!

- Here we go again. Do you even hear yourself? Have you ever once tried to find out the reasons behind my behavior?!

She looked at me, bewildered. She didn’t even know how to respond. Her silence spoke volumes. She never tried to understand. For once, she let me speak, so I took the opportunity to get everything off my chest.

- No, of course not! You never look beyond your own nose. You accuse me every time without thinking further. You don’t even ask if I’m really guilty!

- Oh Ona! Stop always exaggerating!

- Do you remember the time you were called in because I hit a girl at school? Well, that girl spent her time humiliating me in the playground. One day I’d had enough and I snapped. For you, there was no doubt who was at fault that day! You believed that poor little girl over your own child! And it’s still the same now! You never listen to me! I’m always the one at fault no matter what!

Just recounting it brought back memories from years ago. My mother was unable to respond. I didn’t plan to stop there. She deserved to know what I really thought.

- You talk as if you’re a victim, but you don’t know what it’s like to have no trust from your own mother! Do you want to know what happened that weekend? Well, I drank! I drank a lot because I needed it after being locked up for three weeks because of you! I even ran into Feli at the party, but you wouldn’t know that because you never take an interest in my life!

I calmed down when I saw Joan watching us from the stairs with a terrified look. I realized at that moment that I had stood up in anger. I clenched my fists and closed my eyes to calm down and take a deep breath after shouting. My mother still didn’t dare respond. When I looked at her again, I saw that she was stunned.

- Do you know what saddens me the most? It’s that at least in this camp, I made new friends who completely trust me. For the first time in my life, I was allowed to justify my actions. She not only gave me the benefit of the doubt, but she even convinced me it wasn’t my fault when I started to have doubts.

She didn’t seem to understand my words, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t going to explain the whole story to her; she wasn’t worth it. She should have asked me when the time was right.

- So now, before you try to change me, you should reassess your principles and be a good mother. Meanwhile, I’m going to do my big sister duty and take Joan to the ice rink.

I didn’t give her time to recover from her emotions as I walked toward Joan, who hadn’t taken his eyes off me. His terrified look had turned to sadness. I knew he didn’t like it when I argued with our mother. He had already heard so much from our exchanges that I understood. I held out my arms to him, and he didn’t hesitate to come to me.

- I promised we’d go this afternoon, didn’t I?

- I don’t like it when you fight with Mom.

- I know, sweetheart. I’m sorry you have to see this, but I intend to make it up to you. Are you ready?

He nodded, and I smiled at him. I carried him to the coat rack in the entryway to get her jacket and shoes. I left the house without looking back at the living room where my mother hadn’t moved. Hector was taking us. I felt bad for bothering him for such a small thing every time, but I didn’t have a car. My mother never wanted to get me one, even though I’ve had my license for a long time. I could understand her. There were few times I was in a state to drive. I could have caused countless serious accidents. The ride was silent. I enjoyed the landscape, which was completely different from Manchester. It was much more familiar, having lived here for several years. When we arrived at the ice rink, I asked Hector to pick us up in two hours. Joan held my hand as we walked into the building. I had managed to calm down. I promised myself to enjoy it. Joan helped by spreading his good mood around. He was so excited that she pulled me toward the entrance. I was happy to see that he wasn’t angry with me anymore. He managed to bring out my first smile since the argument with my mother. There weren’t too many people at the counter, so I quickly got our tickets and then moved to the next counter to get our skates. I listened to him tell me little stories about his life. I found him so adorable. He had such a perfect life compared to mine. He had fun and didn’t worry about anything. I wished I could regain that carefree attitude. I just hoped he would turn out better than me.

- Hey, Ona?

- Hmm?

- Why do you always fight with Mom?

- Let’s just say Mom and I don’t see eye to eye, you understand? She doesn’t understand, and neither do I. Have you ever argued with a friend?

- Uh-huh.

- Well, it’s the same between Mom and me.

- Except I always forgive after a fight.

- I’d like that too, Jo, but it’s more complicated than that.

- Why? You just have to talk to solve the problem.

- Exactly, except Mom never lets me defend myself.

- That’s not fair!

It’s easier to give examples to a child so he can understand. I knew he was right, but I could never forgive my mother for everything she had done. Or rather, not done. She never tried to understand me.”

- I don’t love Mom anymore.

- What? No, no, no! You need to stay out of this.

- But she hurts you and even sent you far away from me.

I sighed, running my hand over my face. His words reminded me that I hadn’t been able to discuss his little misdeeds with him. I began to understand why he was acting out. He wanted to get back at our mother. Seeing that we wouldn’t find a free bench soon, I decided to crouch down.

- Joan, you shouldn’t get involved in this. It’s grown-up stuff.

- I am grown-up! he pouted.

- That’s not what I meant, I rolled my eyes. It’s just that it concerns Mom and me. Just because I’m having issues with her doesn’t mean you should too. You don’t need to give her a hard time just because she sent me to a school far away from you.

- But you do it when something displeases you!

I frowned. He really had an answer for everything. Why was he so clever? I was just like him at that age. I reacted quickly and asked all the questions that came to mind.

- It’s not the same. Mom takes care of you and you’ve always loved her. You don’t need to take my role at home. Understand?

- I guess, he mumbled.

- It’s not right to bother everyone and cause trouble, I continued. Mom and your dad can’t be proud of you acting this way. They love you a lot, you know, and it hurts them to see what you’re doing. So, I’m asking you to stop. Can you do that for me?

He frowned, then nodded. I think he understood now. I stood up when I finally saw a free spot. I managed to take it before someone else could.

- Will I be able to come see you once in Manchester? Because you know, waiting all the time is long!

- It will be complicated, I chuckled. If I stay there, I’m not allowed to leave the school. But if you want to come when I can go out, you’ll have to talk to Mom so she can bring you for a weekend.

- I’m big enough to go alone!

I laughed at the thought. I would pay to see Mom’s face when Joan told him that. I put our things in the locker, then helped Joan who was struggling to put on his skates. When we were ready, I didn’t need to hold Joan to move forward. He managed perfectly on his own. He had grown a lot since the last time I brought him here. He must have come without me because he seemed much more skilled than I remembered. I followed him as best as I could, he was moving everywhere. It made me happy to finally take care of him. She deserved it after all I put him through. I had two hours to make it up to him and enjoy it. We laughed a lot together. He managed to make me fall many times, which amused him greatly. Then we met a girl from his class. It seems flirting starts early these days! She was with her brother. I ended up talking with him since the two kids didn’t want to part. We spent the rest of the afternoon with them, much to my little brother’s delight. I couldn’t refuse him request even though I would have preferred to stay just the two of us.

Saturday, November 14; 6:20 PM - Ona’s Room.

I played with my phone in my hands. I had been hesitating for fifteen minutes to send a message to Bronze. I needed to talk and she was the only person who came to mind for the subject I wanted to discuss. I sighed, falling back onto my pillow. I had invited Mapi over for dinner tonight. She should be arriving soon, considering how long I had been thinking for nothing. I replayed my entire day in my mind, now that Joan was giving me a break. It was only because he was in the shower, otherwise, he would certainly be by my side. I opened my eyes when I heard noise downstairs. The sounds continued up the stairs. I sat up cross-legged just as my bedroom door flew open. She quickly spotted me, giving me a wide smile. She looked me up and down.

- Oh my God Ona! It’s so good to see you… looking normal.

- Happy to see you too, Leon, I giggled as I stood up.

She continued to examine me with a worried look. She sighed and finally hugged me. I eagerly accepted her embrace. I had missed her. Missed her so much.

- I’m fine, Maps… I’ve been through a lot, but I’m okay. I’m sorry I didn’t give you any news. I wasn’t able to, but I should have asked someone to do it for me.

- Don’t worry, it’s enough to see you in good shape.

- They took good care of me.

- You avoided rehab?

- Yeah, thanks to Bronze. She supported me against all odds.

We exchanged a smile. I could see she was holding back a comment. I knew her too well. I rolled my eyes in amusement and encouraged her to speak.

- I was wondering if… well um… you see… if that school is helping you? Sorry, she hurried. I know you don’t like talking about it, but I feel like it’s changing you a lot, you know and-

- Stop, I laughed, cutting her off. No one can stop you when you’re nervous. I don’t mind talking about it. I think you’re right, I sighed. The school is helping… at least the people there are…

- That’s good, she smiled. I was starting to lose hope of seeing the Ona I knew again.”

I smiled at her sincerely. I was losing hope too, if only she knew. I’ve been questioning a lot of things since that moment I cried in Bronze’s arms. That behavior triggered something deep inside me. It was the first time I managed to open up to someone. Not by talking about my past, but by talking about myself, about my fears. Since then, I’ve felt like I might be able to climb out of this, but the road is still very long.

- Anyway, I hope you’re ready because we’re going out tonight! she announced.

Oh no... For some reason, I haven’t liked hearing that phrase since last time. I’m really afraid of crossing my limits. She seems to see that I’m hesitant.

- Please! I promise I’ll watch over you. Ana is hosting the party. She suggested I bring you so you could meet her...

- I don’t know if it’s a good idea.

- Oh come on, it would be good for you to go out a bit. It’ll help you forget about school for a while. I won’t let you fall again.

- You’d better not. If Bronze has to get me sober again, she promised to keep me in school until I graduate.

- All the more reason for me to take care of you. No way she’s separating us!

- You’ll ditch me for your girlfriend at the first chance you get.

- I won’t take my eyes off you... Please! I’ve already told her you’re coming!

Saturday, November 14; 9:45 PM - Party at Ana’s House

Watch over me, my ass! It’s already been fifteen minutes since I started looking for Mapi, with no luck. I’m stuck in a house, far from home, where I don’t know anyone. The music is loud, and there’s alcohol and any kind of illegal substance. If Bronze knew I was in a place like this, she’d kill me. I had to say yes. I promised Mapi I’d meet her girlfriend, and here I am in her house, all alone. I already regret it. I drank a few glasses to please my best friend, but that’s all. She introduced me to Ana. She’s super nice, just like Mapi said. I felt like she didn’t like me much at first, but it seemed to improve as we talked. I know she’s not aware of our relationship with Mapi, and luckily, because she seems quite jealous already. I made my way to the kitchen. I finally saw some familiar faces. They were Ana’s friends that she introduced earlier. I was about to go to them when someone grabbed my arm. Please... Not again...

- Hey! Ona, right?

- Alex? What are you doing here?

If we had planned this, we couldn’t have managed it. He’s the brother of the little girl we met at the ice rink this afternoon. He already looks pretty wasted.

- I could ask you the same. I’ve never seen you here before! I’m here with my best friend.

- Same. The owner of the house is my best friend’s girlfriend.

- Oh, I didn’t know! Want some?

He offered me a joint. Great... Just what I needed. I had made an effort to avoid this kind of thing all evening, and now it’s right in front of me. I understood why he was in such a state.

- Sorry, I don’t do that anymore, I declined.

- Oh come on, it’s nothing serious.

- I said no, I’d rather get a drink.

- As you wish, he smiled. I’ll come with you, and we can go outside.

- If you want, sure.

It’s probably better than being alone, even though I’m not sure he’s great company. I made myself a drink and followed him outside. He introduced me to his friends. The good news is I found Mapi and Ana. The bad news is that the table we’re at is covered in drugs. There’s as much weed as there is cocaine on the table. It’s insane. Mapi noticed my concern and placed her arm around my shoulders to reassure me.

- Relax... I said I’d watch over you.

- Why aren’t you taking anything? Alex asked from my other side.

- I quit, and I don’t want to fall back into it.

- Here, drink a bit since you’re already here, it’ll do you good, Mapi said. There’s a room upstairs if you want to stay.

- No way. I promised Joan I’d come home to sleep with him.

- Just one drink then.

I accepted the drink, albeit reluctantly. I already knew I wouldn’t stop at just one. Especially since they were all eager for us to play drinking games. Again. I intended to leave the table, but my pride got the better of me when someone called me a chicken. Three in the morning came quickly. I was no longer in control of my movements. Somehow, I managed to get up from the table after refusing to kiss Alex in a game of spin the bottle. No more alcohol for tonight. I didn’t want a repeat of what happened last weekend here. I moved toward the garden. I needed to isolate myself to regain my composure. I went just far enough to hear only the laughter. I laughed as I remembered a guy’s joke. At the same time, I dialed a number on my phone.

- Ona? I heard on the other end.

- Heeey, Lucia ! How are you?

- Where are you?

I couldn’t help but laugh, thinking about what would happen when I got back. Her voice was stern, and she sounded angry. I was definitely not in control of my body or my mind.

- Everything’s fine! I’m not walking straight, but I’m okay!

- Don’t make me repeat myself. Where are you?

- At a party with Mapi! Oh dear, my head is spinning!

I burst out laughing as I leaned against a tree. I heard her sigh on the other end.

- Damn it, Ona, you’re so immature! Have you done anything other than drink?

- No, I said proudly. I listened to you for once.

- Go home. Now, she ordered.

- Or what?

- Ona... Don’t take advantage of the distance. I could make you run the miles you owe me for tonight to sober up first thing Monday morning, she threatened.

- Oh dear, I’m so scared!

- Don’t-

I hung up on her. I giggled, realizing the mess I had gotten myself into. What was I thinking calling her? I smiled when Mapi joined me. She had also had quite a few drinks, but she seemed more clear-headed than me. She laughed seeing my state.

- You okay, Onita ?

- Hummmm.

- Did you get a call from Commander? Who’s that?

- Bronze, I snickered. She’s going to kill me. I just hung up on her.

- You have her number?! she exclaimed, surprised.

- She gave it to me before she left. In case I had a problem, I explained. She knows I’m drunk, I’m screwed, I giggled.

Mapi teased me. I leaned my head against the tree behind me and closed my eyes for a moment. Not too long, because my head was really spinning.

- You should pick up, it’s her third call.

I realized she was right when I looked at my phone. I giggled again and finally answered on her fourth call. I didn’t even have time to put the phone to my ear before I had to pull it back.

- Damn it, Ona, don’t ever do that again, she yelled. Go home, now.

- Relax, baby, I laughed. It’s just a party.

- Baby? Mapi choked, spitting out her drink.

I laughed even harder, realizing the nickname I had just given her.

- Oops, shit! That’s not what you think, Maps, I giggled. Oh man, I’m really messed up.

- Are you with someone? I heard through my phone.

I let my phone slip accidentally. I laughed when I bumped into the tree. Before I could react, Mapi had picked up my phone and put it on speaker.

- Hey, this is Bronze, right?

- And who are you?

- Mapi, the best friend.

- Hmm. I know who you are. Has Ona taken any drugs?

- Thanks for the trust, I giggled. I said no!

- Shut up, Ona. I wasn't talking to you, and I don't want to hear from you anymore.

- No, she hasn’t taken anything, Mapi replied, laughing. She was adamant about it, and I stayed sober just to watch over her.

- See! You can trust me!

- I told you to be quiet, Ona! We’ll deal with this when you get back.

I groaned at her words. What did I say? I’m in trouble. I’m going to have a rough time. I rolled my eyes, knowing she couldn’t see me anyway.

- I can’t drive her back with all the alcohol I’ve had, my best friend said. But I can call her driver to pick her up.

- You can't be serious, Maps! You said I could stay here!

- And you said you wanted to sleep with Joan! she retorted.

- You made me drink like crazy, saying I needed to have fun!

- I never forced you to drink!

I was about to argue back, but Bronze’s voice interrupted our debate that could have gone on for hours. I laughed as she scolded me, calling me reckless. When I finally calmed down, I heard her sigh.

- Call her driver and tell him I want a message when she's in bed.

- You can't make me go home from a party across the country!

- Watch me!

- You've never forbidden me from going to parties!

- Have you seen your state? Do you want me to remind you how it ended last time? You’re going home, period! And believe me, we’ll have a serious talk when you get back, she repeated.

I groaned in frustration at her words. She talked a bit more with Mapi before the latter hung up. She continued to tap on my phone, probably calling Hector as planned. She stood up and helped me do the same. She held me up as we walked to the exit and through the outer gate.

- Come on, beautiful, it's time to go home.

- I don’t want to go home, I mumbled.

- But your girlfriend wants you to.

- She’s not my girlfriend, I grumbled more.

- You can tell me, you know? she laughed. You called her baby!

- It slipped out.

- Sure it did, she teased.

- It's true! She's going to kill me on Monday, damn it.

We waited five minutes in front of the house before Hector's service car appeared. He helped Mapi get me into the car. I was really in bad shape. Maybe Bronze wasn’t wrong. He closed the door after settling me in. I could still hear them talking, but I was too drunk to understand what they were saying. Hector joined the driver's side after their conversation. Mapi opened the door one last time to give me a kiss on the forehead.

- See you tomorrow. Sleep well, Ona.

I groaned slightly in response. She closed the door, and Hector drove off. It didn’t even take two minutes for me to fall asleep, my head resting against the car window.

[tangent101]

Have we gotten Rachel wrong this whole time?

There are plenty of theories about Rachel Amber in the LiS community. Some folks like to think of her as a manipulator who only was out for herself. We have others who think she was deep in love with Chloe and would never cheat on her and everything she did was to get her and Chloe out of Arcadia Bay. It seems like everyone looks at Rachel and sees something new. But… what if we were all wrong? What if Rachel was something else… someone who tried avoiding conflict by talking to people and agreeing with them… and thus everyone saw her as they wanted to see her?

There is actually some evidence toward this in the game. First, Chloe herself points this out, though in a way that is perhaps less than flattering: "She blended like a chameleon. Clearly more than I knew… or wanted to know…." People take this as to Rachel was able to see what makes a person tick and just become the person that someone else wanted… but we can see several people who had a rather negative view of Rachel. So what is it about those people that had a negative viewpoint of Rachel?

First, we have David Madsen, who detested Rachel and saw her as a bad influence and a criminal. He was investigating Rachel and had photographs he felt were of her being a drug mule. Next, we had a truck driver who talked about Rachel really wanting to get out of town. And of course there is Mark Jefferson who also had a… twisted view of Rachel, though it also seems Rachel was so enthralled by Jefferson that she may have been sleeping with him (and both Stella and Victoria seem to be interested in what's going on in Jefferson's pants as well, though I'm not sure why, he's not that charming).

The truth is that Rachel was something other than a manipulative gold-digger or the like. She were a teenage girl who disliked conflict and was adept at listening to people and when talking to them would agree with them? I mean, consider her two breakup letters, one to Frank and one to Chloe? Rachel so wanted to avoid conflict that she left a letter to Frank because he scared her. She did not want a fight. She wanted out. So she left… with a note basically giving her reasons and essentially ending things. (Frank thankfully accepted that.)

Chloe also got a letter. Honestly… given it was all crumpled up, I half-wonder if Chloe had read it while high one time and crumpled it up and forgot about it afterward. But we have a very important line here: I don't want you to hate me. I don't want you to hate me. That's a very interesting thing to say. There is no deliberate malice, this is someone who has found someone else who just rings all those bells but wants to keep the friend aspect. She still wants the laughter, the moments of sharing a glance and both having the same thought, the things she envisions friends do… but to walk away from the sensual intimacy.

Remember what Victoria Chase said to Max in the Dark Room, that she was just a teenage girl? That's Rachel. Rachel Amber was not a seductress or a narcissist or a monster. She was a teenage girl who was avoiding conflict in her life, but in doing so ended up in a shallow grave in a junkyard. Because quiet girls don't make history… they end up used, abused, and discarded. They end up on the rooftops willing to throw themselves to their deaths because no one would listen to them. They end up abandoned because they were not good enough, because they ultimately were not willing to stand up to those who would use them.

Max, before Chloe reentered her life, was one of those quiet girls who ends up used and discarded. The reason folks keep seeing Rachel in Max is because Rachel stayed quiet and let people make up their own minds about her. And they saw in her what they wanted.

Or at least, it's one way to interpret Rachel Amber.