#i dont have to wait as long for the new season

[poespetraven]

Hiiiiiii hellooooooooo hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii so uh funny story I haven’t watched the new episode yet…

LET ME EXPLAIN

(!!!spoilers for both the X-tale comic and series below!!! (I’ve never tried using the “keep reading” line thingy ooh this is exciting! Heehee look at me being all tumblr proficient! (I still have no idea as to what I’m doing (shoot sorry I got distracted.))))

I DID REREAD THE X-TALE COMIC AND REWATCH THE X-TALE SERIES THO AND OH MY GOSH I FORGOT HOW MUCH I HAVE FEELINGS ABOUT THE X-TALE COMIC, ESPECIALLY THE 2ND HALF OF IT LIKE OH MY GOSH I FORGOT SO MANY LITTLE DETAILS THAT MAKE IT SO MUCH MORE DEVASTATING BRO WHY DO I NEED REREAD THIS MORE OFTEN WHAT AM I DOING?!?!

Anyways, that was fun! I guess in a way it was kinda fun having not read it in a while cause like I got to be surprised by some things I forgot. Like Cross almost killing Frisk in the very beginning and then panicking about it and feeling awful. The slow build up of his suspicion of Frisk. And the whole deal with Papyrus secretly protecting Cross from his blasters to make Undyne and Frisk think he killed Cross. I had been thinking that Cross saved himself for a while now. And you know what? You know what that does? YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MAKES EXTRA DEVASTATING?! YOU KNOW WHAT OTHER KNIFE TWISTING DETAIL I FORGOT?! CROSS INITIALLY SPARED PAPYRUS! DO YOU REMEMBER THAT?! DO YOU?!?!?!? CAUSE I DIDN’T! I FORGOT! BUT AFTER CROSS KILLED EVERYBODY HE LEFT PAPYRUS TOTALLY UNHARMED AND WAS LIKE “Papyrus wants me happy 🥰” AND PAPYRUS IS JUST LIKE STANDING THERE AND THEN HE’S LIKE HES LIKE “yeah but like maybe you went like a little too far-“ THEN BOOM HES FUCKING DEAD. CROSS KILLS HIM! LIKE URGHHHHHH IT HURTS IT PHYSICALLY HURTS ME! AND THEN LIKE WHAT HAPPENS DIRECTLY AFTER? LIKE I FORGOT ABOUT FRISK TRYING TO GIVE CROSS THE HEART LOCKET AND THEN CHARA ACCIDENTALLY KILLING FRISK!!! LIKE I HAVE I ROBBED MYSELF BY NOT REMEMBERING THIS ANGST! IT MAKES CROSS’ REALIZATION THAT HE CAN’T ACTUALLY BRING EVERYBODY BACK EVEN MORE DEVASTATING!

So uh yeah I had a very fun time rereading the comic. And then I rewatched the X-Take series like the next day and OH MY GOSH IT WAS EVEN BETTER HAVING JUST READ THE COMIC LIKE IT JUST HITS SO MUCH HARDER AND I should probably stop there before I jump into another rant. This post was not supposed to be this long oops. I’ll just summarize what I was going to say by saying that this series gives me Feelings and Emotions.

BUT I STILL HAVENT WATCHED THE NEW UNDERVERSE EPISODE! I’ve being holding off for a day when my family is out of the house for long enough for me to rewatch all of Underverse Season 2 plus the new episode cause I want to try and see if I can put it on our television. BUT GUYS I DONT KNOW IF I CAN WAIT ANY LONGER! I THINK IM GONNA CAVE! LIKE I DON’T NEED TO WATCH IT LIKE THAT! LIKE ITS A NICE IDEA SURE BUT LIKE WOULD I REALLY ENJOY THE EPISODE LESS IF I DIDN’T WATCH IT LIKE THAT? NO! WHY AM I DOING THIS! I DONT KNOW! WHY AM POSTING THIS ON TUMBLR? WHY AM I STILL TYPING? WHO IS EVEN GOING TO READ THIS? HEY YOU THERE! YEAH YOU! WHY ARE YOU READING THIS? WHATS GOING ON?

…well I think I have officially decided that I am not going to wait until the house is empty to watch the new episode cause that’s stupid. I’m going watch it on my laptop with my headphones and a cozy blanket on my bed the way it was intended and it is going to be fucking fantastic.

UNDERVERSE 0.8 PART 1 Premiere

[beddybites]

hi!! just a quick update:

yesterday i got a call that my dog has a malignant tumor, and long story short, has cancer. he is an older dog but a healthy one, and unfortunately it’s really just a waiting game with him, as we cannot risk treating him due to his elderly age

some of you are well aware of how much this dog means to me, as he has been with me for all my life, and ive always dubbed him as my best friend ): so of course this is a lot and im needing a moment to properly digest everything haha

on top of this im very sick, due to a number of things. i dont want to get personal or go into detail on my struggles, but im physically very weak right now :,D

and ofc, with the holiday season on top of everything else, social media isnt my main priority

all of this to say, heres what posts are gonna look like for a little bit:

• old art being reposted

• little sketches / doodles

i do have a couple projects like another couple animations and a whole psp au scene, but due to everything, im needing to put it on hold

my hope is that by the end of the holiday season i’ll have a better idea on my dog’s condition, and i physically will be healthier

ideally, these new projects will be posted in january… i was hoping along with some progress on my online shop & a patreon, but… life :,D

**TDLR:

theres a LOT going on with me, and i need a moment to gather myself, so any posts this upcoming week will be a lot of old art or simple doodles/sketches

as always im very grateful for your kindness and support, and i appreciate your patience with me!

smudge says thank you too!!

[ryanthel0ser]

Why did no one tell me Book of Atlantic was really good, like I was passive watching the rest of this (canon stuff) only getting perked up over Grell and now I'm like invested like I wanna see Sebastian and Ciel again

I feel sorry for all the older fans who got well fed by this in 2017 and then starved for 7 years

[arcanegifs]

[vomiting-rainbows]

fuck it if the season 1 ended heres the lesbians ever 😁😁

[megagrind]

Bitches be like “I’ve spent so long chasing after this person that it’s time I move on and fall in love with someone else” and it’s literally the exact same person

[captainreecejames]

Down Bad || My Ex is a Footballer OP81 Edition

links [masterlist][my ex series masterlist]

summary it's time you date someone actually your age

pairings ex!andy robertson x reader, oscar piastri x reader

warnings not a good relationship with robertson, cursing

notes guys I'm not a liverpool fan so this was hard for me [kidding]. this took so long because I had trouble getting the dynamic right also I got a new job and working two places has not been easy but I gotta make money in this world.

yn's message august 2022 ---------

ynusername posted august 2022 --------

liked by estebanocon, andyrobertson94 and others

ynusername it's race week again yay!!! But I can't be with my boyfriend booooo

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username1 girl drop him!!!

username2 no boooo actually yayyy!!!

username3 shame she can't be with andy for the start of the season ↳ username4 girl be serious, season started almost a month ago and she was at every home game ↳ username5 yn is a diehard liverpool fan don't worry she was supporting her man

andyrobertson94 gonna miss you babe! ↳ ynusername miss you more!

alo_oficial excited !! 🩷

username6 yn I mean this in the nicest way possible, he's too old for you and he's not good

ynusername posted december 2022 -----

liked by oscarpiastri, alpinef1team and others

ynusername 22 season recap! Thank you so much to Alpine for bringing me into the world of f1 and introducing me to some amazing people, I will always be grateful for the chance you took on me and have love in my heart for you! Now on to being at anfield 24/7 to support my man!!!

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username11 ahhhhh oscar!! I' m fine everything is fine

oscarpiastri have a good break yn! ↳ ynusername you too ossie!

username12 ossie??! i'm screaming i love it already. alpine why did you have to break up my bestfriends that i didn't know were best friends?

estebanocon gonna miss having you around yn! ↳ ynusername oh estie! i'll see you around don't worry.

username13 why the fuck is Andy not commenting? ↳ username14 cause he's a little bitch 👍🏼 ↳ username13 oop

alpinef1team we love you yn! ↳ ynusername gonna miss you babe

username15 damn Andy finally got what he wanted and won't even congratulate her on doing this job ↳ username16 I'm new here, what did Andy want? ↳ username15 he has publicly wanted yn to not work and basically be a housewife, also he's like almost 10 years older than her so it's like weird he wants her to be a kept woman

liverpoolfc we're ready for you! ♥️ by ynusername

yn's messages --------

twitter february 2023 --------

ynusername posted august 2023 -----

liked by landonorris, lance_stroll and others

ynusername first half of the season done with my boss featuring ossie when he sees me sneak into the mclaren garage

oscarpiastri that's literally a lie I don't look like that when you come in ↳ ynusername then why do I have a picture of you looking like that??? ↳ landonorris gonna back him up on this one he does NOT look like this when he sees you ↳ username21 WHAT DO YOU KNW LANDO AHARE WITH THE CLASS

username22 guys not to be dramatic but there's been no Liverpool mention in months, I think she broke up with andy ↳ username23 DONR GET ME EXCITED

ynusername posted december 2023 --------

liked by carmenmmundt, georgerussell63 and others

ynusername sad that the season is over but happy I get a short break from being a full time Alonso Wrangler and part time student. Also lance is sad he hasn't been in a season photo dump so here have this

carmenmmundt 🩶🩶

lance_stroll wtf? ↳ ynusername 🫶🏼 ↳ lance_stroll I sent that to mari ↳ ynusername and she sent it to me ↳ mariloublg_ and I'd do it again ↳ lance_stroll DONT GANG UP ON ME

username34 TWO(2) OSCAR PICTURES? we're winning oscaryn truthers ↳ username35 we need him in the first picture now, no swiping is the next goal

username36 wait, yn are you in classes right now? ↳ ynusername I'm taking 2 classes right now remotely for my masters! ↳ username36 OMG you go girl! ↳ ynusername thanks babe

february 2024

landonorris posted on his story

replies to your story

oscarpiastri delete this

landonorris HAHAHAH

alo_oficial working on getting her to realize

landonorris they are both so dumb

mclaren get a picture together

landonorris you got it boss 🫡

username36 IT'S YN RIGHT! TELL ME IT'S YN LN

ynusername posted march 2024

liked by astonmartinf1, oscarpiastri and others

ynusername and we're back!!! Starting off with some helmet swaps and getting papa stroll a debut on the page

landonorris damn papa stroll gets a pic before me?? ↳ lance_stroll it took me a year to get a debut and even then it was a shit one so shut up ↳ georgerussell63 haha you guys suck ↳ ynusername it's cause Carmen bribed me ↳ lance_stroll and mari didn't? ↳ ynusername she did, that picture is what she wanted ↳ landonorris so what youre saying is I need a gf to bribe you ↳ oscarpiastri damn guess youre never getting your debut on this page ↳ landonorris and how the fuck did you get here???

username41 where's that girl that wanted oscar on the first slide? ↳ username35 RIGHT HERE AND I'M THRIVING

lance_stroll also landonorris that's mr. stroll to you ↳ landonorris okay...

ynusername posted july 2024

liked by landonorris, alo_oficial and others

ynusername oscar i don't have the words to describe how proud i am of you right now but just know that I always believed in you and always will

username51 ughhhh, when will it be my turn

username52 OSCAR WIN SO YN POSTS JUST OSCAR YES

username53 username35 aRE YOU OKAY GIRL? ↳ username35 NO I'M NOT

username35 JUST OSCAR IN EVERY PIC??? AND HE'S CLEARLY LOOKING AT YN? IS THIS MY BIRTHDAY PRESENT?

username54 the way oscar was looking for her >>>

alo_oficial congratulations oscar! ↳ oscarpiastri thank you nando

oscarpiastri thank you yn, you're support means everything to me

username55 no offense but I was kinda expecting more from you here ↳ username35 you want her to confess her undying love for oscar here on a social media post? you want her to do it on the internet instead of just to him privately so you can consume media and be in the presence of a relationship that you clearly have no respect for nor no need to be apart of because they don't know you?? that's what you want? be fucking for real ♥️ by mariloublg_ ↳ username55 first of all you also have a parasocial relationship with them, second of all, it's not weird for me to want her to express more about this when his team was shit to him ↳ username35 i can be excited about her posting him and still fucking respect their privacy. they don't need to post anything for us and it is a PRIVILEDGE that we get to see this. if you make it weird for them and ruin their PRIVATE relationship because you personally think she should be more vocal on social media then maybe you need to do some reflection on how you interact with people

ynusername posted august 2024

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and others

ynusername summer break is over, now I go back to being a student

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landonorris yay i can have my osc back ↳ ynusername uhhh... no, you can borrow MY ossie ↳ landonorris agree to disagree ↳ oscarpiastri don't I get a say in this? ↳ ynusername depends ↳ oscarpiastri well i pick you yn ↳ ynusername then yes you get a say

lance_stroll it's about damn time ↳ estebanocon SAYS YOU ↳ alo_oficial none of you have spent as much time with her as I have! I'm the only one that get's to complain ↳ ynusername I was not that bad ↳ alo_oficial yes you were ↳ estebanocon yes you were ↳ lance_stroll yes you were ↳ pierregasly yes you were

oscarpiastri haha babe you have a crush on me? ↳ charles_leclerc you were just as bad ↳ landonorris what he said ↳ oscarpistri damn okay

username35 ahhhh!!! congrats yn and oscar ↳ ynusername thank you! and we both appreciate you being so supportive

username63 see everyone, it pays to be a decent human being! ^^

[teamatsumu]

kept me waiting. (suna rintarou x reader)

summary: for six years, you have loved no other alpha except suna.

word count: 3397

warnings: a/b/o dynamics, alpha!suna, omega!fem!reader, some angst, smut, typical omegaverse jargon (mating, knotting, scent, slick), oral (fem receiving)

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi @sleepyxxhead @priv-rose

There’s only so long you could have waited.

At 16 years old, you were a budding omega. You had presented recently and were trying to adjust to the changes that came with your secondary gender. You were curious about yourself, and about others as well. In your uncertain new beginning, you met Suna Rintaro.

He had presented as an Alpha about a year ago, and he was more comfortable in his skin than you were. He was brooding and slightly lazy, but endlessly perceptive. Clever. And he smelled to you like a garden you wanted to lay in, surrounded by grass and flowers. He brought you comfort. And your novice omega heart fell in love with him.

The kettle whistled, indicating that your water was ready for a cozy cup of tea. You pour it into a cup, grab your muffin and your tea before settling on the couch. It was evening time and the TV was on, loud cheering emitting from its speakers. You placed your blanket over your lap and then rested your plate on it, finally turning your attention to the screen and the live game that was about to start. You had never once missed a game of Suna’s, after all.

Almost 7 years since you had first met the boy, and to this day, you heart yearned for him. He was your best friend, your most personal confidant. The love of your life, though that fact was not known by him. Your Omega had attached herself to him explicitly, vowed to love him forever, and despite him not returning your feelings, you hung on to the tiniest, withering hope that somehow, things between you two would work out.

The game was an exhilarating one, and in the end, EJP Raijins came out of it victorious. You watched the team celebrate on screen, grinning wide and cheering them on silently. When the camera panned to Suna, your heart squeezed. You shot him a quick congratulations text, asking him how he wanted to celebrate. Suna had informed you beforehand that he would be crashing at yours after the game, since you lived so close to the venue. You had enthusiastically agreed, of course. Any excuse to spend more time with him.

Half an hour later, your phone pinged with a reply from him.

‘Will be back late, sorry.. dont wait up’

You pursed your lips in disappointment before sighing loudly and resigning to an early night. It was fine, you were tired from work anyway, so getting extra sleep will be good. But spending some time with Suna….

He had been so busy lately, with rigorous practices leading up to the beginning of this season. You hadn’t seen him in weeks, and you didn’t enjoy that fact, nor did your omega. You missed him terribly. You swallowed down your sadness and trudged into bed. It was a familiar feeling when it came to Suna. The yearning and the realization that he wasn’t yours.

When you woke up the next morning, the sun was high in the sky and filtering through your closed curtains. You groaned and cursed softly, not expecting to sleep in so late. Your mood only lightened when you walked into the kitchen and found Suna sitting on the island, scrolling through his phone over a steaming cup of tea. His hair was messy and unkempt, indicating that he just woke up, but the sight of him had your face lifting with a smile.

“Rin!” You greeted, clearing your throat when you heard how hoarse your voice was. “Congratulations on the game!”

“Hey,” His smile made your heart squeeze. “Sorry, did I wake you last night?”

You blinked in confusion. “No?”

“Oh.” He chuckled and ran his hand through his hair. “Good, good.”

You eyed him for a moment, trying to gauge what he meant. You walked toward the kettle that was still going, planning on pouring some of it for yourself too. As you moved past the man, a scent hit your nose and your body stiffened.

Omega.

There was no doubt in your head. It was an omega scent, wafting off Suna in waves and mixing intimately with his own wonderful scent. You froze behind him, nose twitching when you took another deep breath and identified the scent even more distinctly. You didn’t recognize it, but you knew it was omega. And the way it was coming off Suna, focused so closely on his scent glands meant only one thing.

“Why’d you get here so late, Rin?” There was a little tremble in your voice.

Suna didn’t seem to notice, scrolling idly through his phone, distracted. He hummed a bit in question before replying.

“Drinking with the guys.” He drawled.

And then? You didn’t ask. It wasn’t your place. You loved foolishly believing that Suna was your Alpha but he wasn’t. And you couldn’t exactly tell him to not see any omega when you didn’t have any claim on him either. Silently, you left the kitchen, hoping he wouldn’t call after you, walking into your room and closing the door. You leaned your forehead against the warm wood and closed your eyes.

Stupid. Stupid. What right did you have to feel the way you did? Suna wasn’t yours. He could be with anyone he pleased. He could sleep with other omegas. Scent them. Court them. Knot them. Your throat tightened.

So then why did you feel like a wounded animal? Why was your omega whining like she had lost her mate and not some random alpha she had unfairly been obsessed with for so long? In moments like this, you hated your secondary gender. You hated your omega. You hated that you were so in love with Suna that this felt like cheating to you.

However, your hurt was exclusively your own, and you couldn’t project it onto anyone else. Suna was here now, and even though the sight of him made you weep, you still found joy in being around him. You would spend the day with him, and get the closure you needed. Then you would lick your wounds and move on. You had waited long enough.

So that’s what you did. And here you were now, a week later, sitting across from an Alpha you had met just today, listening to him talk about his job and his hobbies while you smiled and nodded. There was an almost bitter undertone to your feelings. Over the days, your sadness had transformed into anger. It was unjustified and not really something Suna deserved, but you still directed it at him. Because he had ruined you for anyone else.

The Alpha before you was a perfect gentleman. He was a friend of your friend’s, and everything she had told you about him was true. He was kind, well spoken, good looking. He knew how to carry a conversation, since he was doing most of the talking while you rolled around in your own head.

But he wasn’t witty. He wasn’t quick and sly. He didn’t have a thin, cutting smirk and narrow green eyes that pierced through you. He didn’t smell like freshly cut grass and cool, open air.

He wasn’t Suna.

After the date, he walked you to the train station, where you claimed you would get on the train home. He gave you a respectful hug and smiled kindly when you said you would call (you wouldn’t call). Then, when he mixed in with the crowd and disappeared, you turned around and walked straight out, beginning to trudge on foot to your home.

Your thoughts were all over the place, your eyes were lined with unshed tears, your breath felt like it was trapped in your lungs. You didn’t comprehend the stupidity behind walking all the way home, and how it would take hours. Your friend texted you, asking about the date. You didn’t reply. Instead, you tapped on that one cursed name that you couldn’t wipe from your mind and sent only two words.

Fuck you.

It took you two and a half hours to walk home. It could have been quicker if you weren’t in heels. After about half an hour of walking in them, your feet began to hurt. You used the pain to distract yourself from the jumble of thoughts in your head, and by the time you got home, you didn’t even want to look down at them. You couldn’t imagine how bad they looked, if the tingling and shooting pains were any indication. It now traveled up your legs and to your lower back, aching all over. At some point, the air nipped cold at your cheeks, and you finally noticed that it was because of the tears that now ran down them.

When you unlocked the door and stepped inside the warmth of your apartment was the first time you seemed to be aware of your surroundings. You froze just inside the door when a large figure blocked the light, making you look up at a scowling Suna.

“Where the hell were you? I was calling like crazy!” His voice was louder than his usual register, and more emotional. You blinked a bit and sniffled. Your skin felt stiff because of the dried tears. Your feet still screamed.

“Why are you here?” Your voice was low.

“I’m-” Suna’s eyes traveled down, and they widened slightly at the sight of your feet.

“What did you- did you walk?”

You sighed and lumbered past him, ignoring the pleading protests of your feet to get the weight off them. You finally sat down on the couch, feeling no better. The pain was still there. You kept your focus acutely on it, trying not to look at the one man who was causing your misery. But he seemed adamant on making himself known, kneeling before you to help take off your shoes. You jerked your legs away. Suna looked up at you, shocked.

“Don’t touch me.” Your voice was cutting.

Something flashed in his eyes. “Let me help.”

“I don’t need your help. I don’t need you.”

Suna reached for your shoe strap again. “Don’t be stubborn, omega.”

You felt your blood boil and you finally raised your voice. “Don’t call me that!”

He eyed you for a moment. “What? Omega? Aren’t you one?”

“Suna-”

He glared at you. Glared. A withering look that almost made you shrink. But your emotions were too great. You grit your teeth and didn’t say anything. Didn’t address the fact that you had called him by his last name for the first time in six years.

Suna peeled your shoes off your feet as gently as he could. But it hurt regardless, and you hissed when they finally came off. He ran soothing hands over the tender, angry skin. You tried not to think about his touch, tried not to sink into the feeling. But your efforts only made tears gather in your lash line once more. You eyed his raven hair, his head bent low to look at your feet. He sat cross legged before you, laying light touches on the swollen parts of your feet.

“Why are you here?” You repeated.

“Well, when my best friend texted me a colorful ‘fuck you’ out of nowhere, then proceeded to ignore all my calls, I was understandably worried.”

You sighed and looked away just before he could meet your eyes. He continued. “You wanna tell me what that was about?”

You didn’t reply, pointedly looking away. You cursed at the moment of weakness that caused your lapse of judgment and made you text him. Him showing up was your own mistake.

He exhaled loudly, looking down at your feet that he was still gently massaging. “I didn’t sleep with anyone.”

Your head snapped to him in shock, eyes wide and mouth dropped open. Suna didn’t look up, but his lips twitched into a little smile.

“That’s why you’ve been acting so weird, right? For the last few days? You were pissed and sad that your Alpha slept with another omega.”

Your mind reeled, and you sat frozen as you tried but failed to absorb Suna’s words. Your alpha?

When he looked up, his lips were tilted in a crooked smile. “I wouldn’t do that to you, baby.”

Again, you lurched. You tried to pull your feet from his grasp, to stand up and get away from him, put any distance between you two. Maybe his scent was making you heady. Maybe you were hallucinating. He gripped at your leg, making sure you stayed put.

“You’re- I don’t know what you’re saying.” You rasped.

Suna chuckled before sighing a bit defeatedly. “I wanted to confess in a more romantic way than this but you started being all distant and shit. I can’t see you like this.”

You couldn’t believe it. You had so many questions and not enough answers for the predicament you were in. And Suna’s pretty forest eyes didn’t help keep your head straight either.

“You- what do you mean confess?”

Suna’s hand ran up your bare calf lightly, you felt goosebumps rise on your skin.

“What do you think it means?” He countered in classic Suna fashion. Answering your question with a question. “Telling you that I like you. Taking you out. Courting you. Mating you. The whole she-bang.”

For the hundredth time today, tears filled your eyes. “Rin….”

He watched you, eyes forlorn as you silently weeped. His hand still rubbed comfortingly over your legs. Up and down, slow motions. His touch grounded you.

“You made me wait-” You hiccuped. “-for so long.”

Suna continued eyeing you. He leaned forward to rest his head on your knee. “I thought you knew how much I liked you. I spend all my time with you. I scent your clothes, dammit. I thought you weren’t saying anything on purpose. That you wanted to come to me on your own terms.”

You smacked his shoulder hard. He didn’t even budge. “You are such an asshole.”

Suna chuckled a bit before turning his head and laying a kiss on the side of your knee. The skin tingled. He pulled away only a hair, and his breath hit your skin. A chill ran up your leg. Suna turned his head only slightly, his eyes meeting yours. Your heart skipped. Heat ran down your body, settling at the base of your stomach.

His lips skimmed over the bare skin of your knee. His left hand, placed on your right shin, traveled slowly up your leg until it dipped below the hem of your dress. Your breath caught in your throat. Your core grew damp. Suna’s gaze heated up, and his lip twitched with a tiny smirk.

“I can smell you.”

You bit your lip when his hand traveled up, up, until his skin was meeting delicate lace.

“So wet, omega.” He nipped at your leg. “And I haven’t even done anything. So good for your Alpha. So ready.”

His unoccupied hand hooked under your knee and tugged until your hips reached the edge of your couch, until you were laying back on it. Your eyes didn’t leave him. His words ran straight between your legs, making you clench hard. You bit your lip and looked at Suna with teary eyes.

“Rin.”

You had nothing else to say. Suna let out a breathy laugh and increased the pressure of his thumb on your slit. You gasped.

“Will you be good f’me?” His voice was octaves deeper. “Let me eat out your sweet little pussy?”

His crude language made you moan. Suna finally moved, lips going higher over your thigh until he bypassed your body completely and leaned up to connect his lips with yours. You grasped the sides of his face, kissing him back hard and deep. You poured every emotion into that one kiss, letting Suna lap over your lips hungrily. His scent enveloped you like a comforter, one hand pushing up the skirt of your dress while the other’s movements grew more urgent on your clothed pussy. You were slicking up rapidly. You could feel it run from your hole and down your ass until it landed on the couch. You couldn’t give less of a shit if you were dirtying the furniture. Your brain was rapidly turning into mush as your omega preened under Suna’s attention, his tongue invading your mouth like it was his own and he was only reclaiming it.

“Pretty baby.” He rasped into your mouth. “Good little omega. Get wetter for me. Need to drink all your juice.”

Your face felt like it was on fire, and you whined right against his lips. When he pulled away, you tried to chase after him, already addicted to the high that his lips brought. Suna hummed in amusement and tugged on your panties, pulling them off your ankles. He pressed the fabric directly to his nose and breathed deep. You watched him with half lidded eyes as you bit your lip to hell.

“You smell so fucking divine.” Suna groaned. “Always thought so. Loved cuddling up to you. Being close to you. My lovely omega.”

You moaned again, feeling how you gushed at his words. You didn’t realize you were into praise, but when it came from Suna, it lit a fire inside you. You clenched hard around nothing, now acutely aware of your rapidly building need.

“Rin,” you gasped. “Please. Please.”

“I’m here, baby. I’ve got you.” He shamelessly pried your legs open. You let him. “I’ll take such good care of my omega.”

His first lick was a thick stripe up your open slit, filthy and hungry, before he licked harder and faster over your clit. You gasped at the contact, the urgent relief of finally having stimulation you were craving so much. Your fingers automatically buried themselves in his soft hair, tugging tight at the roots. Suna hummed his approval and suctioned his lips on your clit, lapping and slurping like he was a man starved.

He was glorious at it, eating pussy like it was his last meal, hands holding your thighs apart firmly so his movements were unhindered. Stars burst in your vision and your hips jerked, not sure if you wanted to lean into him or tug away from how intense it was. Your torso undulated and arched, tears ran down the sides of your face and you moaned unencumbered. Suna seemed to enjoy it, because he pulled off with a wet smooch and replaced his lips with his thumb, not leaving you dry for one second.

“So fucking delicious.” His voice had gone scratchy and wrecked. “Good fucking girl. Moan for me, baby. God, I could do this forever.”

You felt something prod at your entrance before two fingers rapidly sank into you to the knuckle, curling hard and rubbing at your walls. You cried out again, not even embarrassed by how wet the noises became, how potent your scent was becoming, you badly you needed to cum on his fingers or you didn’t know what you would do-

His lips sealed over your clit and you were gone.

Suna didn’t even slow his movements as you reached your high. He helped prolong it, sucking harder and pushing his fingers in and out of you, scissoring and curling until your walls felt abused and used beyond belief. You wailed and weeped as you dug your fingers into the couch cushion under you. You had slid so far down the couch that it nearly bent you in half. You tried to close your legs and Suna finally pulled out, kissing over your mound a few times before he leaned up and attached his lips to the skin of your neck, licking and biting lightly over your scent gland, trying to embed his own scent into you. The feeling of him so close to that spot had your mind reeling. You hugged him close.

“Bite me.”

Suna kissed you again. “Not like this.”

“But I love you.”

He chuckled and sucked lightly on your skin until it darkened. “Still won’t mate you on a couch. When I do it, it’s going to be with your cunt full of my knot.”

You flushed and groaned in embarrassment, feeling the way your core pulsed again. Suna laughed and nuzzled your neck.

“Don’t worry. I have a lot of loving to give you before we get there.”

[stevie-petey]

episode one: the hellfire club

Robin waves her hands in the air as if to get Steve’s voice away from her. “Ew! Gross, don’t say boobies–” “Boobies! It’s not a big deal–” You make a face. “It isn’t the most pleasant word.” “Oh, c’mon. You like boobies, Robin likes boobies, and we all know I love your boobies specifically–ow!”  You hit the back of Steve’s head with annoyance to get him to stop talking about your boobs. While he winces in pain and rubs his tender head, you turn towards Robin. “What my darling boyfriend is trying to say is that everyone likes boobs, and Vickie definitely likes them too.” 

Summary: el writes to you as if youre her husband away at war, you debate the intricate nature of liking boobies with robin and steve, lucas is your beloved while eddie munson is your sworn enemy, steve accidentally exposes your (horribly hidden) daddy issues, dustin is an angsty teen, and jonathan really loves to drop emotional bombshells on you. can you believe this all happens in one day ? lol cheers to senior year !

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n, mentions of abuse, allusions to bullying, trauma lol

Words: 13.5k (wrote half of this in one day)

Before you swing in: SHES HERE !!!! SEASON 4 !!! this season terrifies me. i spent so much time outlining and making sure it was perfect. i have some changes i want to do, some ideas, and its scary because we dont have season 5 yet and i hate messing with canon ,,, alas: here she is. my baby. my beloved. quick fun fact: theres a scene in here ive had planned since season 1 so .... enjoy !

–

March 21st, 1986.

Dear Y/N,

Congratulations on New York University! Joyce tells me that it is a very good college, and everyone was extremely happy when Jonathan told us the news. He even had a smile on his face! It has been a very long time since I have seen him smile, especially without that weird smell on him (am I allowed to tell you about the strange plants that Jonathan seems to like now? He says that you cannot find out about it, but friends don’t lie and he is your bestest friend). 

I asked Will about it, and he says that Jonathan now smells because he misses you. If you ask me, I think that Jonathan smells because he is scared. We are still waiting for his college letter, afterall. I know you want to go to school with him, but so does Nancy. Is it possible to go to two colleges? Anyways, it must be a lot of pressure, even more with all the waiting we have to do, but Joyce told us that sometimes colleges take a long time to respond. 

While I am positive that Jonathan will figure it all out soon, he pretends he does not care. But he is a very bad liar. He was very upset that Nancy could no longer visit us in California. Will was bummed too, but he was more sad that it was not you who was visiting. Joyce says that the Byers boys were born to miss you, and I think she is right. 

I also miss you. I am still bummed I never went to school with you. I bet Mike is over the moon to have you with him for high school, Dustin and Lucas also. How is Max? Is she still sad? I know school has been hard for her. I will admit that it is hard for me, too. While I am good at maths, and my grammar is getting better, I am still unsure when to use conjunctions or why Angela does not like me. Will tells me to ignore her, but I want to be her friend. She is nice to everyone else. It confuses me that she is not nice to me.

A lot about California confuses me. The flowers here are different, and sometimes I forget that I cannot go and visit you. I miss the smell of Bookstrordinary (did I spell it right?) and your cookies. Please send more as soon as you can. Will and I are almost dying to taste them again! Mike says he will try to bring some on the plane, but I am scared he will be told no by those scary airplane people.

Speaking of Mike, he is coming to California this week! I am very excited to see him. It has felt like years, I think I am even going crazy. I have planned everything for his week here. Spring break will be extra special! It will be a fun distraction from Angela and school. This week I can pretend to be someone else, someone cool, and Mike will be very impressed. I know you tell me to always be myself, so I hope that I can make you happy by taking your advice on focusing only on the good. 

To prove I will focus on the good from here on out, here is a good things list: 

Mike is visiting!

Will has almost finished his painting. I am very curious to see what he has made. He is really talented, he shows me the drawings he sends you sometimes. 

You got into NYU! Is this the correct way to abbreviate? I am still working on conjunctions, but I think I am supposed to use the first letter of every word in the school’s name to shorten it. At least, that is what Joyce says. 

Jonathan’s new best friend, Argyle, will give us free pizza to celebrate Mike’s arrival. It is really good pizza. 

Tasting your cookies again. Fingers crossed Mike’s plan succeeds!

I am sure there is more, but I am too excited about this week and my mind is going very fast. I miss you tons, maybe even more than Will and Jonathan do. Please come visit us soon. Like Joyce says, the Byers boys were born to miss you. Although I am not a Byers boy, I am still a part of the Byers family, and I miss you. 

Love, El.

P.S., thank you for the grammar books. I will be sure to become the best writer ever in California. 

–

Sweet, gentle, El. You can almost hear her voice, reading aloud to you as you used to do when she lived in Hopper’s cabin. She would stumble over the letters, ask you how to sound out particularly difficult words in Spider-Man comics; they helped her learn how to read. Now, almost a year later, she’s writing you letters. 

El has grown up so much within such a short few months, although it doesn’t surprise you.

Laughing softly as you reread the final line she’s written, you wipe your eyes and place El’s letter onto your desk. The piece of paper joins the others, nestled gently with a pile of her other letters that are housed on your desk. El sends you a new letter every week, detailing silly stories about Jonathan and Will or concerned ramblings about Angela.

The letters make you miss El terribly. They make you miss everyone terribly. 

Next to the letters are drawings from Will. He’s become such an artist during his time in California. He sends you beautiful sketches of landscapes in their neighborhood, doodles from class, and incredibly detailed drawings of you and the party. The drawings are Will’s special way to keep in contact with you, and it’s something you cherish so deeply. However, you didn’t know that he was working on a painting, and you’re curious to see what El is talking about. Eventually he’ll reveal his art to you, he always does.  

Skimming a finger over one of the more recent drawings from Will, your hand catches on the walkman that lays next to it. Jonathan’s messy handwriting is scrawled on the mixtape that sits within it.

For bug.

The words, familiar and loved, stare back at you. The mixtape contains songs that Jonathan so carefully chose for you. He spent countless hours selecting songs that he knew you’d love, songs that reminded him of you. It had been his gift for you before he moved away. And now he’s gone, and you miss him so much more than you ever thought you would. More than you ever thought you could miss anyone.  

Jonathan never did end up coming to Hawkins for spring break. 

“Dusty, what’s going on in there?” The sound of your mother pounding on Dustin’s door breaks you from your thoughts. “You’re gonna be late.”

“Don’t come in, I’m naked!” You hear the boy screech back at her, which you roll your eyes at. Steve will be here to pick you guys up any minute. Dustin knows he should be ready by now, the schedule has never changed. 

Throwing on the cardigan Steve got you for Christmas last year, you grab your walkman and storm over to Dustin’s room. At the same time, your mother nearly crashes into you in the hall. Her face is pale, horrified of the idea that she almost saw her son naked, and you pity the woman. Dustin has become relentless lately, even more difficult to deal with. 

“Y/N, my dear,” your mother clutches at her chest and fans her face. “Can you please make sure your brother is ready? I think that boy is trying to give me a heart attack.”

You sigh, figuring you would have to do so anyways. “Yeah, sure. Go finish getting ready, I’ll handle him.”

“This is why you’re my favorite daughter!” Your mother kisses your cheek before running off towards the kitchen to make her morning coffee. 

Once she’s gone, you immediately start banging on Dustin’s door. He knows you hate being late. Plus, it’s the Friday before spring break. You’re getting antsy waiting for this week to end. “Dustin Henderson, you have three seconds before I kick this door down.”

“Not now, Y/N!” Dustin shouts back, frantic and desperate. 

You narrow your eyes. He’s using his suspicious voice, the one he only uses when he’s doing something he absolutely shouldn’t be doing. Glancing down at your watch and noting the early hour, you curse in disbelief. “It’s not even seven yet, what the hell are you up to so early in the morning?”

“Nothing! Just go away, I’ll be out soon–”

“I swear, if you’re trying to sell my limited edition comics again I will hurt you.” You throw your body against the door, causing it to fly open as you stumble inside. Dustin is at his computer and he nearly falls off his chair in his haste to cover the screen from you. He’s remarkably horrible at playing cool. You’re about to tell him this when Suzie’s voice crackles through his radio’s speakers. 

“Yikes, Dusty.”

“Suzie?” You walk over to your brother and shove his hands off the computer screen. He falls to the ground with a loud thud, which pleases you. He may be a teenager now, but you’re still stronger than him. At least for now. “Why are you calling her right now–” Your eyes land on the screen and you recognize Hawkins High’s familiar orange and green school colors. “Is this the student gradebook?”

“No!” Dustin exclaims, but Suzie’s small and soft voice responds, “Yes.”

“Oh my God,” you cannot believe he’s making his girlfriend hack into your school’s database. Sure, she’s a genius, but you also know she’s incredibly religious. “Dustin, this is so illegal and goes against, like, all of Suzie’s religious morals–”

“I will repent later.” Suzie interrupts you, and you raise your eyebrows at what she’s just said. Before you can question her, Dustin’s computer refreshes. 

He leans forward, eyes scanning to see if they’ve succeeded, and he seems to like what he sees. Suddenly Dustin lets out a sudden whoop and fist bumps the air. “God, I love you Suzie.”

Curious, you lean over and read the screen as well. There, where you know Dustin had a D- in Latin not even a day ago, is now an A. There’s no possible way he was able to raise his grade in under twenty-four hours. He sucks at Latin, he hates it, which means… She did it. Suzie changed his grade. All she had to do was press one single button to save Dustin’s GPA. 

You have to admit, it’s impressive. And shamefully genius. 

“Hey, Suzie.” You bring the radio to your lips, shoving Dustin away when he tries to take it from you. “Do you think you could change my grade in calculus? Jonathan was the only reason I passed any of my other math classes.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Suzie’s voice raises a pitch, she doesn’t want to tell you no. She likes you, she really does, but her God figurine stares down at her with a disappointed look in his eyes. She’s sinned for love, but she doesn’t think she could ever do it again. 

You’re about to plead with Suzie, tell her NYU really prioritizes their student’s grades, but the sound of a car honking outside catches your attention; it’s Steve. Dustin yanks the radio from your hand and shoos you away. “Go, leave without me.”

“What, why? We always drive together.” You frown, feeling like a little kid when you cross your arms. Dustin smiles apologetically, a smile you’ve become familiar with. Your mood darkens, anger rises to your cheeks. You know exactly why Dustin is now skipping out on you. “Don’t tell me it’s that stupid Eddie Munson–”

“He wants me and Mike to work out some campaign details before lunch today!” Dustin scrambles to mediate. He hates that you don’t like Eddie, and you like everyone. It’s unnerving how much disdain you seem to carry for his friend. “Nance is driving us, but I swear I’ll ride with you and Steve after break!”

You scoff at Dustin, not at all believing his promise to you. Ever since September your brother has been at Eddie Muson’s beck-and-call, who dictates everything Dustin says or does. At first it was innocent enough, choosing to sit with the guy instead of you at lunch. Skipping out on a few weekend plans with you and Steve to campaign with Eddie. You’d been happy for Dustin. He was making new friends, no longer your little shadow; he was his own person with his own priorities and interests now.

But ever since getting into NYU last week, Dustin has been pulling away even more from you. You don’t know why, but he’s become even more obsessed with Eddie and his stupid Hellfire club. 

Eddie Munson is the air your brother now breathes, stifling the air Dustin once breathed for you.

And it seems to only be suffocating you, not him.

“Yeah, whatever.” Halfheartedly you ruffle Dustin’s hair, and he leans into the touch. You don’t want him to know his repeated absences are upsetting you. Deep down, you know you’re being irrational. You’re almost eighteen, soon you won’t even be living under the same roof as Dustin. He’s allowed to live his own life. “I guess I’ll see you at the pep rally. Tell Suzie I said bye, please?”

Dustin nods, though you don’t linger in the doorway like you desperately want to. Instead, you shut the door behind you and place a swift kiss to your mother’s cheek as you leave. 

Steve’s car is parked in its usual spot at the end of the driveway. The teen’s arm hangs out the window and his face breaks into a smile when he sees you approaching. Steve’s smile is infectious, it’s always charmed you, and it settles the ache in your chest from your brother’s earlier dismissal. Feeling a smile spread across your own face, you run towards Steve and poke your head through the open window.

“Hi,” you breathe out, nose almost bumping against his cheek.

“Hi, angel.” Steve kisses you, solidifying your morning tradition. Neither one of you really remembers who started it, but sometime during the school year you began to slip your head through Steve’s car window so that he could kiss you slow and sweet. 

And, as tradition follows, Robin starts boos. “Do you have to do that every morning?”

Steve makes a face at her and she punches his arm. He yelps in pain and you roll your eyes at the two of them before running over to the passenger’s side where Robin sits. Her window is rolled down as well and you duck your head inside. “Aw, Robin. If you wanted a kiss, you could’ve just said so!” 

“A kiss–?” Your lips press against Robin’s cheek, smushing against her face while making a dramatic sound. She squeals and pushes you away, wiping her now wet cheek in disgust. “That is not what I wanted.”

You giggle at her and finally get into the car. It’s getting late, you see the assortment of Robin’s limited makeup dumped into her lap haphazardly. She’s been stressing about this morning’s pep rally all week, and clearly she isn’t coping very well. Trying to cheer her up, you flick her shoulder. “I’ll have you know that my cheek kisses are cherished in Hawkins.”

“How many people’s cheeks are you kissing?” Steve turns in his seat to face you, slightly alarmed. Then, noticing that there’s only one Henderson in his car, he frowns. “And where’s little Henderson?”

“Eddie Munson.”

“Woah, wait, you mean Eddie as in where Dustin is, right? Not, like, you’ve been kissing his cheek? I’m right, right? Please tell me I’m right.”

You roll your eyes fondly at Steve while Robin rolls hers in displeasure. “Just drive, Steve.”

–

It becomes pretty apparent five minutes into the car ride that no one seems to be having a good morning. Robin has spent the majority of the drive applying and reapplying her mascara while messing with her hair. She groans every time she looks in the mirror and her eyes lack their usual brilliance. 

Meanwhile, Steve has been complaining about yet another fight with his dad. Apparently they argued during breakfast, something that has become a common occurrence in the Harrington household. 

“The asshole again reminded me that I’m turning twenty soon. As if I don’t already know that! I mean,” Steve laughs in exasperation. “For weeks now he’s been asking me what my plans are, as if working at Family Video just isn’t good enough for him. As if my dad isn’t the sole reason I had to get a lousy minimum wage job in the first place!” 

“Family Video isn’t a lousy job–”

“Yes it is.” Both Steve and Robin say at the same time, which you sigh at. Can’t really argue with that. 

“Okay, yeah. It’s pretty lousy.”

Steve rubs his eyes tiredly. “And that isn’t even the worst part. There I was, pouring syrup over my pancakes, trying to enjoy the fact that my parents are actually home for once, when my asshole of a father tells me that if I don’t have a respectable job by the time I’m twenty, he’ll kick me out. I mean, can you believe that?” 

You suck in a breath. “Steve…”

Richard Harrington is a cruel, awful man. 

While you understand his frustrations towards Steve, it’s completely unreasonable to expect him to get a reputable job in a few short months without any college education. Steve’s right, it had been Richard’s idea to make him work at Scoops Ahoy in the first place. When the mall burned down, he had no other option but to work at Family Video soon after. 

“I’m sorry, honey.” You intertwine your fingers through Steve’s hair and rub your thumb up and down the nape of his neck in a soothing manner. Steve allows the touch, but he’s still tense. Guessing that he’s uncomfortable feeling so pitied, you try to make light of the situation with humor. “But hey, who knows? Maybe you can come live with me in New York if he ends up kicking you out.”

Steve risks a look at you, taking his eyes off the road for a few moments, and his eyes shine. He’s ecstatic over what you’ve just said. He looks like a little kid on Christmas Eve. “You really mean that?”

“Well, I mean…” It had mostly been a joke, a throwaway comment to try and get him to smile. But Steve’s body finally relaxes under your touch and you can’t tell him no. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“You hear that, Robin?” Steve preens, wanting to get her attention. However, when he realizes that she hasn’t been listening to the entire conversation, he makes an offended sound. “Robin, are you listening to me?”

“Uh, yes?” Her eyes meet yours in the mirror, startled that she’s been caught. “You were-uh. Talking to Y/N about your dad. We-we hate him! Yeah, we hate the guy. He really… grinds my gears?”

Steve groans. “We all hate my dad, but that wasn’t what I was talking to you about!”

“Cut me some slack, please. Your relationship with your father is one of labyrinthine complexity–”

You poke your head between the two teens. “Actually, it’s not that complicated.”

Robin covers your mouth with her hand and continues with her rant. “It’s seven in the morning, we have the stupid pep rally, and I woke up looking like a total corpse!” 

“I think you look lovely as always, Robin.” You mumble through the girl’s hand, barely coherent.

Steve, however, isn’t as supportive. “You’re worried about a pep rally? You really expect me to believe that?”

“Yeah, so?” Robin removes her hand from your mouth and goes back to doing her makeup. She’s avoiding the conversation now, which only means that Steve is onto something. Why has she been so obsessed about this week’s pep rally? Robin has been in band for years now, she’s done a million pep rallies during her high school career. It can’t be performing that makes her nervous. 

Which means it has to be about someone. 

Locking eyes with Steve, he seems to be thinking what you are. “I think we all know what this is about, okay? Y/N and I aren’t buying that bullshit.”

“This is about Vickie.” You finish for him, a smirk on your face. For weeks now Vickie has been all Robin has talked about. Her hair, how pretty her smile is, how cute her freckles are. Vickie also happens to be in band with Robin. “C’mon, you can’t tell us we’re wrong.”

“I absolutely can tell you you’re wrong.” Robin denies what you and Steve are implying.

Steve shakes his head. “You know we’re right! And you know what else we think?”

“I really don’t care–”

“Y/N and I think that you gotta stop pretending to be someone else when you’re around her, okay? You just gotta be yourself.”

Robin doesn’t want to hear any of this. At least not from you and Steve. “You guys are biased, you do realize that?”

“What do you mean?” You’re practically laying across Steve’s car console in order to be a part of the conversation. “I think we’re objective people.”

“You’re telling me that all I have to do is be myself and Vickie will want to date me?”

You frown. “Yeah? What’s wrong with that?”

Robin throws her head back. “Because it took Steve months to ask you out. Mind you, this was when you were already in love with the guy! And he knew you were in love with him!”

“Okay, hey–” Steve doesn’t at all like what she’s insinuating. He didn’t necessarily know you were already in love with him, he just… had a small hunch. 

“I’m not done,” Robin holds her hand up. “All Steve had to do was man up and admit his feelings for you. He didn’t have to agonize over whether or not it’d blow up in his face. There was no risk, no danger, no world ending consequences. I mean, if you had rejected him then maybe Steve’s ego would’ve been bruised. But if I ask out the wrong girl? Bam! I’m a town pariah.”

“This is true,” you reluctantly agree. While you could never envision a world where you’d ever say no to Steve, you also recognize that the world where you somehow do wouldn’t be the same world as Robin’s. Things are different for her, whether you like it or not. Robin has to live with this knowledge, and her conversation with you about luck and love from last summer echoes in your mind. 

Steve places a hand on his chest, betrayed. “Whose side are you on, Y/N?”

“True love’s side.”

Robin snorts and Steve doesn’t bother to hide his smile. He wants to tease you for being a hopeless romantic, but now isn’t the time. Instead, he continues the previous conversation. “True love aside, we can’t ignore that Vickie is definitely not the wrong girl.”

“Oh, she definitely isn’t straight.” You agree.

“We don’t know that!” Robin quickly sprays some breath freshener in her mouth and gags, which you cringe at. Vickie is one lucky girl if Robin ever manages to become her girlfriend. 

Steve doesn’t let up, he’s convinced he has it all figured out. “She returned Fast Times paused at fifty-three minutes, five seconds.”

“The bikini scene, mind you.” You butt in, and Steve nods eagerly.

“And you know who pauses Fast Times at fifty-three minutes, five seconds? People who like boobies, Robin!” 

Robin waves her hands in the air as if to get Steve’s voice away from her. “Ew! Gross, don’t say boobies–”

“Boobies! It’s not a big deal–”

You make a face. “It isn’t the most pleasant word.”

“Oh, c’mon. You like boobies, Robin likes boobies, and we all know I love your boobies specifically–ow!” 

You hit the back of Steve’s head with annoyance to get him to stop talking about your boobs. While he winces in pain and rubs his tender head, you turn towards Robin. “What my darling boyfriend is trying to say is that everyone likes boobs, and Vickie definitely likes them too.” 

Robin can’t even look at the two of you, appalled by how many times the word “boobies” has been uttered during the duration of the conversation. You can’t blame her, the word has practically lost all meaning for you as well.

Steve, however, can’t seem to get enough of it. “It’s boobies!” He exclaims again to no one in particular.

You and Robin lock eyes, and then, without saying anything, your hand covers Steve’s mouth while Robin flicks his forehead, effectively putting the boob conversation to an end. 

– 

The moment Steve’s BMW slows in front of the school, Robin throws the door open and rushes out with a quick “see you later!” to you as she runs to follow after her bandmates. Steve waves weakly as she goes and sighs in disappointment.

“She’s never talking to Vickie, is she?”

“Not a chance,” you sigh as well, watching as Robin’s figure disappears in the crowd of students. Spring break looms over the student body, everyone buzzes with excitement over their week of freedom and tonight’s basketball game. The pep rally in just a few short minutes only adds to the exhilaration. Leaning forward, your lips graze against Steve’s. “Anyways, see you tonight?”

He bridges the gap between your lips, skin meets skin and warmth floods your stomach. “Of course, angel. I love you.”

“I love you, too, honey.” And with one last kiss, you exit Steve’s car and make your way towards the school. As always, Steve waits until you’re safely on the sidewalk before he pulls away and heads towards Family Video. He’s started picking up morning shifts to fill the time he isn’t with you.

On your way inside, you see Ms. Kelly talking to Max near the buses. The conversation is short, doesn’t last much longer than a few seconds, and when Max turns away you notice Ms. Kelly’s patient smile drop. Clearly Max still isn’t being cooperative when it comes to their sessions. She promised you she would start trying, but Max Mayfield has always been stubborn and you’ve always been slightly overbearing.

Not the best combination, honestly.

With a sigh, you make a mental note to ask Max about what the counselor talked to her about later. There’s too much going on this morning to focus on it, and you’re already pushing Max by having her attend the pep rally anyways. Originally she had wanted to skip it and hide in the stairwell, but after begging her about it, Max finally agreed.

The conversation can wait. For now, at least she’ll be next to you in the bleachers alongside the boys to cheer on Lucas.

The thought was enough to brighten your mood a little, but it quickly became a pain in the ass to corral the party into sitting together. It took you almost fifteen minutes to find Mike and Dustin in the mass of students heading into the gym. You’re not necessarily sure how it took so goddamn long given the fact that Mike towers over half of the students anyways. He’s grown freakishly tall since starting freshman year. It unnerves you. 

While his towering height annoys you, Mike likes that he can finally, literally, look down on you. 

“There you guys are!” You grab the back of Mike’s shirt and he lets out a startled yelp. Dustin stumbles back as well, and an annoyed sophomore glares at the three of you. Ignoring her, you grab your brother’s shirt and start dragging the two boys towards the bleachers. “Thought we agreed on meeting at the water fountain that squirts water in your face?”

“I thought it was the library?” Dustin gives you an odd look. “Wait, is there even a water fountain in the library?”

“You amaze me.” You remark, not even bothering to answer his question. He listens like a bag of rocks. Mike just allows you to pull him, not at all contributing to the conversation.

Max waits for you in the bleachers. She’s saved you seats, something that you feel slight relief over. The simple gesture is small, but it sparks just enough hope within your chest to make you exhale softly. Hope that she’s getting better. Hope that she’s finally trying again.

Thanking Max, you and the others fill the seats as the gym quickly fills with more and more students until it threatens to overflow. The roar of the crowd is nearly deafening. Across from the bleachers resides the marching band. They’re playing the school’s anthem as the cheerleaders start their routine. Chrissy Cunningham leads them, her smile lovely and beautiful, she shines so brightly upon the crowd that you can’t help but fall in love with her.

In the midst of the cheerleaders’ twists and flips, Robin manages to catch your eye from across the room.

You eagerly wave at her and mime playing the trumpet, copying her movements as she actually plays one. Robin laughs, and next to her is a girl with fiery red hair who laughs as well. She’s pretty, you’ve heard countless sonnets about her red hair and dotted freckles. Knowing the girl is Vickie, you point at her as you wink at Robin, who scoffs and goes back to playing the trumpet. 

Next to you, you catch the tail end of some bizarre conversation between Mike and Dustin.

“Look, I’m not saying that my girlfriend is better than yours.” Dustin is clarifying, glaring at you when he hears your sarcastic snort. “It’s just that Suzie’s, like, a certified genius.”

Mike crosses his arms, looking towards you as if somehow this is all your fault. “Your brother realizes that El saved the world twice, right?”

“Admittedly that is hard to beat,” you shrug. “That, and she has cool powers.”

Dustin points a finger at the two of you. “And yet Mike still has a C in Spanish while you’re barely passing calculus.”

Mike rolls his eyes and you shrug again. Your brother isn’t necessarily wrong either. El’s saved the world, Suzie has saved his GPA. Both are nearly impossible feats. “Touchy subject, but touché.”

“And what can your boyfriend do, Y/N?” Mike asks, now bringing the attention to your love life.

“He’s good with a bat.”

Both Dustin and Mike groan, but you shush them when the school’s broadcaster announces the Tigers basketball team. Applause breaks out across the bleachers and you notice Max looking around for Lucas. Though she tries to hide it, you can see the interest and excitement in her eyes. She’s happy for him, but it breaks your heart that she feels that she can’t show it.

Jason Carver, captain of the basketball team and former Scoops Ahoy patron before Steve spilled ice cream all over his pants, runs out first. The crowd goes wild, but you don’t start cheering until you see Lucas. He’s smiling wide, proud to be a part of the team. You scream as loud as you can for him, he’s come so far since confessing to you about wanting to join the team earlier this year. As Jason starts his speech, dramatic as he always is, Lucas sees you in the bleachers and waves shyly, a blush creeping across his face. Then, seeing Max next to you, his confidence seems to grow as he waves more enthusiastically at her. 

The moment is sweet, it makes you smile. 

Except Max doesn’t wave back. She crosses her arms, pretends she hasn’t seen him, and your smile drops alongside Lucas’. 

You know they’ve been having some trouble recently. With Max pulling away more and more each day, Lucas struggled to hold onto the fading girl. Despite his pleas and reassurances, Max still seems to be icing him out. According to Dustin, they broke up almost a month ago now. 

But they’ve always had a tumultuous relationship, long before nightmares and monsters darkened everything. The news hadn’t worried you at first, you thought it was simply another one of their weekly breakups over something small, innocent. Afterall, they were just kids when they first started dating. Their breakups were always childish, though endearing, and always temporary. 

Now, you’re scared that this time it’s permanent. 

You’re not sure what that means for Max. She already has so few people left in her life to tether her. Billy died, her mother works two jobs and is never home anymore, El is in California, and you and Lucas are breaking skin trying to claw onto whatever small hold you have left of the girl.

Another loud cheer from the crowd breaks you from your thoughts. Jason must’ve just said something important, something worthy enough of a roaring reaction. He’s always been popular in Hawkins, Steve used to complain about him to you back when he was still on the team. But when Steve graduated and Billy died, Hawkins High had needed a new King to crown.

Jason Carver was more than happy to ascend the throne. 

“Chrissy, I love you, babe.” Everyone awes and you see Chrissy blow Jason a kiss. It’s sweet, you suppose. They fit together nicely, head cheerleader with the star of the basketball team, and they seem genuinely happy. Chrissy’s shy and kind demeanor balances Jason’s loud and charismatic boldness. They truly are a good match. 

“I think I can speak for all of us when I say it’s been a tough year for Hawkins.” Jason continues his speech, the room is eerily silent as everyone listens with baited breath. “So much loss…” The gym almost exhales simultaneously, remembering all the people who died last summer.

Your own breath exhales, and beside you Max tenses. Billy’s ghost floats through your minds, in through hers and out through yours. Hopper’s own ghost follows after him, only he doesn’t haunt Max the way he haunts you. He lingers over you, his final words to you engraved into your skin. 

You’re the best of them.

“And sometimes I wonder, how much loss can one community take?”

Enough to fill a mall of burning bodies, you think bitterly. 

Jason paces the gym’s floor now, he almost seems to glow before the crowd. He rambles on about needing something to believe in. That everyone should be doing something to honor all the lives lost in July, that playing basketball can absolve all the despair. As if it can bring them back.

Deep below your ribcage, nestled right underneath your scar and just in front of your stomach, rests a pit of anger that always simmers. You were born with it, it has always followed you. It has grown with you, the anger almost possessed your body when your dad left. Now, hearing Jason recite all the names of the ones who died that Fourth of July, the anger’s low simmer heats into a soft boil. 

You try to quell it. Jason means well, he’s only trying to uplift the community in a passionate, albeit uncomfortably pastor-y way. He’s only doing what he knows best; he’s being a leader. In another life, one where Demogorgons never harmed you, you think you would’ve really admired Jason and his resilience. 

“Think of Billy,” Your breath stills, yet your hand instinctively finds Max’s. She turns away from you, but the room is spinning and you can’t remember how to inhale. But Jason keeps going. “Think about our heroic police chief, Jim Hopper.”

Next to you, in your haze of grief and panic, you think you can feel Mike and Dustin shift uncomfortably. Grief sinks her claws into the kids, and you want nothing more than to puncture Jason’s lungs with them. 

This was supposed to be a pep rally for the Tigers, it was supposed to be joyous, an opportunity to bring Max out of her shell. To distract her from the hell that she calls her life. The entire school knows what happened to Billy, they know that he had a little sister named Max Mayfield.

You hate Jason Carver.

But you’re here for Lucas. Today is about him. He’s finally happy, he’s smiling again. The least you can do is swallow down the anger and grief and hope that you don’t end up choking on them later. That they don’t strangle you in your dreams.

“And now tonight, we’re gonna bring home the championship trophy!” Jason screams into the mic, erupting a volcanic roar from the stadium. People throw paper into the air, whistling and jumping up and down at the prospect of Hawkins High finally winning a championship.

“Tonight?” Dustin’s agonized exclamation causes you to jump. He looks at you, bewildered and panicked. “How is that possible?”

Your heart still hasn’t steadied from the surge of fury Jason evoked. Swallowing once again, you clear your throat and shake your head at your brother. “What, you guys didn’t know about the game tonight?”

“They call it a tournament,” Max explains for you, figuring you need some time to clear your head. You squeeze her hand appreciatively. “You win one game, you go on until there’s only one team left.”

Mike and Dustin exchange frightened looks, and you eye them suspiciously. “Did you guys really not know? I thought Steve explained all of this to you already. Why is it such a big deal, anyways? I mean–wait,” the boys won’t meet your gaze. They avoid facing you, Mike stuffs his hands into his pockets and Dustin pretends to read someone’s poster. 

You know the fearful look on their faces. It’s the same look Dustin gave you this morning when he ditched you to ride with Nancy and Mike. 

Goddamn Eddie Munson. 

“Oh, don’t you guys dare.” They wouldn’t. They wouldn’t fucking dream of missing one of Lucas’ games for a stupid club centered around some guy with enormous ego problems. “I swear to God, if you two skip the game tonight–”

“We won’t! I-I mean… Well. It’s, uh. It’s complicated” Dustin gulps, elbowing his way through the crowd of departing students as the pep rally ends. Mike follows, ready to step in at any moment, while Max slips away before you can stop her. Seeing how contorted your body is from anger, Dustin tries to appease you. “Look, I can’t promise anything, alright? Eddie is… Eddie.”

You’re about to scream some very choice words about that curly haired emo asshole, but Lucas intercepts the group and joins you guys. He looks between you, Mike, and Dustin, sensing some underlying tension. “What about Eddie?”

Mike quickly explains, and the more he talks, the more you want to shove your knives down Eddie’s throat. It’s one night, one goddamn night, and here Mike and Dustin are, almost shitting their pants at the idea of missing one Hellfire meeting to support their friend. While it’s unfortunate that all of this is happening on the same night, and though you recognize how long a campaign can take and how much the game means to the party, for once you can’t bring yourself to understand Dustin’s side. 

A championship game versus one single campaign meeting that can easily be done tomorrow instead.

Seems like a pretty easy decision to you. 

Lucas doesn’t understand why Mike and Dustin are so conflicted either. “I don’t get the big deal.” You’re all outside now, heading towards the main building for your classes. “Just talk to Eddie. Get him to move Hellfire to another night.”

You nod, agreeing with him, and Dustin rolls his eyes. “‘Just talk to Eddie.’”

“You can’t be serious right now,” your shoulder brushes harshly against the boy’s. You’re barely containing your anger right now. “Why does Eddie have such a strong hold over you guys? Hasn’t he repeated senior year twice now?”

“Why does that matter?” Mike looks at you as if you’re the scum of the earth that he just so happened to step on. “Why can’t Lucas just talk to his coach and get him to move the game?”

Dustin quips that he thinks Mike’s idea is a great one, but you shove between them and throw your hands in the air in annoyance. “You can’t possibly think that’s the same thing, right? A nationally organized game being postponed for a board game.”

Mike and Dustin both gasp at you, acting as if you’ve just threatened to kill a baby bunny in front of them, which only annoys you more. Sure, maybe you’re being a little mean right now, but you’re not appreciating how they’re treating Lucas. He’s never done anything to warrant this blatant disrespect from them. They’re refusing to see his side, too lost in their Eddie induced high. 

“DnD isn’t just a board game, Y/N! I’m honestly disappointed that you of all people would even say that. You’ve seen the intricacies of a campaign. You know I’ve spent all month now preparing for the end of Eddie’s campaign!” Dustin waves his hands in front of him, he’s in his own ecstasy of anger and annoyance, something innate in the Henderson bloodline. “A semester of adventuring has led to this moment, and we need Lucas.”

“Yeah, and the Tigers don’t.” Mike looks over at Lucas. “I mean, no offense, but you’ve been on the bench all year–shit!”

You swat the back of Mike’s head, the sound of his yelp satisfying and the sting of the hit soothes you. He looks at you, offended, and you just shake your head at him. “No, that was out of line and you know it.”

“One day I’m gonna be too tall for you to hit me, you know.” Mike scowls at you as he rubs his head. 

“And I’ll mourn the day when that happens,” you respond dryly before pointing at Lucas. “Now, apologize to him before I hit you again.”

Lucas lowers your finger and shakes his head. “It’s fine, Y/N. Me being on the bench isn’t the point, anyways.”

“Please, arrive at the point.” Your brother drops his head back and closes his eyes. He’s tired, he regrets even starting this conversation in the first place. The more the four of you talk, the angrier he can feel you become. Mike’s head may now be sore, but Dustin lives with you. If anyone here is in danger of your lecturing, it’s him.

“If I get in good with these guys, I’ll be in the popular crowd, and then you guys will be too.” Lucas explains, looking between Dustin and Mike as he urges them to understand, but they don’t. Mike claims that they don’t want to be popular, something that Lucas doesn’t believe. “What, you wanna be stuck with the nerds and freaks for three more years?”

“We are nerds and freaks!” Dustin exclaims, causing a few students in the hall to look at you guys. You wave at them awkwardly, you’re starting to regret following the boys. This conversation feels personal, like you shouldn’t be intruding. Though you think Lucas has every right to want a good high school experience, you also think Mike and Dustin deserve to have their own experiences as well. If they don’t want to be popular, then that’s their decision just as much as it’s Lucas’ to want to be. 

You step between the three boys, finally getting their attention. “Guys, no one here is necessarily right or wrong. Lucas has every right to want to be a part of the basketball crowd, and you two,” you raise your eyebrows at Mike and Dustin, “have every right to want to stick with Eddie’s crowd.”

Dustin sighs, “thanks, Y/N–”

“I’m not finished,” you hold a hand up and shush your brother. “What isn’t right, however, is abandoning one another. You guys are friends, and right now Lucas wants you at his game tonight to support him. Tonight is special, everyone will be there, and I want you guys there as well. I know high school is hard, but it’s even harder when you’re alone.”

“Says the girl who is adored by everyone in this shitty town.” Mike huffs, he can’t believe how hypocritical you’re being. “You’ve never had to deal with what we do. No one has ever laughed at you or tried to make you jump off a cliff just because you’re different.”

You clench your jaw. Dustin looks at you wearily, he doesn’t like what Mike is saying, but he also can’t help but agree with his friend. You haven’t ever been bullied. All your life you’ve blended in, stood out only when you were kind to others, admired for your selflessness, but never enough to be invited to parties or dumped behind a dumpster.

“Mike…” Your brother tries to pull him away from you, but you both stand your ground.

“You’re right, Wheeler. I don’t know what it’s like.” You stare up at the boy, and Mike’s expression softens only slightly. He’s just as stubborn as you are, it’s why the two of you admire the other so much. “But you forget that I’m Jonathan’s best friend. The creep, the loser, the psychopath. Kids may not have ever targeted me, but I’ve seen what they do to the people they hate.”

All the times you had to ice Jonathan’s bruised face. The nights you spent in his room holding him as he cried because Lonnie’s fists and Tommy’s cruel words were too much. The sneers, the stares Jonathan received because he was different. Quiet. Being your best friend hadn’t lessened the blows. 

For years you wish you could’ve done more for Jonathan. Now, presented with Lucas’ opportunity to befriend the crowd that once was so cruel to your friend, you refuse to lose it. “That’s why I don’t want Lucas skipping the game tonight.”

It’s silent for a few moments, all three boys don’t know what to say. Taking a deep breath, Lucas stands beside you and breaks the silence. “We came to high school wanting things to be different, right? Now we have that chance. Like Y/N said, if I skip tonight, that’s all out the window. So I’m asking you guys, as a friend, just talk to Eddie. Get him to move Hellfire.”

Lucas pauses, he wets his lips and looks between his friends again. He feels so small, pleading for their attention. “Come to my game. Please.”

The bell rings, ending the conversation, and Lucas spares one last look at Dustin and Mike before mumbling a soft goodbye to you. He leaves you alone with the boys, who in turn mirror conflicted expressions. 

“Shit!” Dustin kicks his foot out and looks at you. “This is all your fault, you know that?”

“What is?”

“Me having empathy. I hate this. Why couldn’t you have raised me to be an asshole?”

You snort at Dustin before pulling him into a weak hug. You only have a few more minutes before you need to get to class, you can’t stay very long, but you also don’t want to leave the boys without some semblance of comfort. “You’re too charming to be an asshole. Just… Come to the game, alright? Both of you. I’ll even make brownies if I have to. I just-I’ve missed you guys. This will be good for all of us.”

Mike ducks his head and Dustin sighs once more. Neither want to say anything else, so you reluctantly release your brother and leave them alone to wallow in their self-created misery. 

They’ll do the right thing. You’re sure of it.

– 

Lunch comes and Alex sits next to you. He started sitting with you at lunch just after winter break, and you’re endlessly grateful for him. You’re no longer alone, and he’s good company. A part of you regrets that it took the two of you three years to grow your friendship outside of Bookstrorindary. 

You’ll miss him when you graduate. 

Max is with Ms. Kelly today, a change in their usual meeting schedule of Tuesdays and Thursdays, meaning you had been right. She did skip their meeting yesterday and the counselor had to corner her this morning to schedule another one. 

“Be honest, how excited are you to move to New York this summer?” Alex asks you, taking a bite out of his carrot stick. You’ve come to learn that he has a weird obsession with the vegetable, always packing at least twelve of them every day. 

You pick at your own lunch, a wilted salad and sandwich your mom left for you this morning. “Honestly? It hasn’t really hit me yet. I mean, I only got in last week. I think my mind is still trying to catch up with reality.”

“Oh, c’mon. You can’t tell me you’re not at least a little excited.”

“Okay, okay,” you laugh and nudge the boy. “I’m a little excited. I just.. Haven’t really had time to think too much about it, you know? Between work, my brother, Steve, the kids, and…”

“Jonathan?” Alex finishes for you. He’s the only one who knows about how distant Jonathan has been. You’ve confided in him about how worried you are, about the phone calls while he’s high and the way Jonathan’s voice no longer sounds like his. 

You shove your lunch away, no longer hungry. “Yeah.”

“You guys call every Friday, right? Maybe tonight will be different!” Alex tries to cut through the tension that now corrodes your demeanor, which you smile at him gratefully for. 

“Yeah, who knows.” A piece of hair falls in your face and you push it behind your ear. Picking up your fork again, you attempt to finish your meal, but a sudden commotion interrupts the low buzz in the lunchroom. 

“As long as you’re into band, or science, or parties.” Eddie Munson sneers from the cafeteria table he’s standing on. He looks around the room as if everyone else is beneath him. Not worth his time just because they enjoy different things. Looking at Alex, you both sigh and prepare for whatever Eddie has to say today. His voice grows louder, shouting across the room towards the basketball team’s table. “Or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets!”

Jason stands up and a few students whoop and cheer. “You want something, freak?”

Eddie sticks to fingers up behind his head as he creates little devil horns, snarling with his tongue out and hissing. Jason grimaces, you do too. 

“He’s a little much, isn’t he?” You say to Alex, relieved when Eddie starts to step down from the table. 

“He terrifies me.” Alex breathes out, not taking his eyes off Eddie in fear he’ll somehow cast a spell on him.

You laugh at your friend’s unnecessary fear. Eddie is harmless, Hellfire isn’t a demonic cult like some students at Hawkins seem to think. It really is just a club centered around a board game with impressive storytelling and detailed plotlines. From what Dustin has told you, Eddie truly is the best dungeon master in Indiana. 

And while you believe him, you can’t wrap your head around why your brother idolizes Eddie so much. The fascination runs deeper than just DnD. Dustin has spent almost every day of his freshman year wrapped around Eddie’s finger. He spends all his time with the teen now, rarely with you, but you’re not bitter. Of course you’re not. Dustin can have his own friends, you know this, but you also feel so… unneeded. 

Your little brother doesn’t need you anymore, and it’s a hard pill to swallow.

Truthfully, Alex’s question earlier about moving to New York in the summer sparked more than just your usual anxiety over Jonathan. It also reminded you that in only a few short months you’ll be in an entirely new state, a new city, far away from Dustin. 

“Y/N!” Dustin flies into the seat next to you, nearly upending the table itself with how violently he throws himself down.

Alex shrieks and you steady the table before anything can fall. Heart pounding, you clutch at your chest as your nerves settle. “Why must you always be so violent?”

“Because it’s fun,” Dustin responds, not even bothering to acknowledge Alex’s presence. Instead, his eyes are only on you, and there’s a crazed spark in them. He’s breathing heavily, frantic, and you dread where this is going. “Look, I need to ask you a huge favor.”

“Do you realize that this is the first time you’ve sat with me at lunch since the first day?”

He winces. “And I will repent every day for my horrendous sins. I promise, I just–Jesus you’re terrifying when you don’t blink.” Dustin removes his hat to fix his hair, a nervous tick of his. He’s stalling, he should’ve never come here. Gulping, he rips the band aid off. “I need you to sub for Lucas tonight.”

“I’m sorry?” You’re giving him an out, one chance to back down before you strangle him.

Only Dustin tightens the noose even more. “Please, Y/N! Eddie won’t move the campaign. He said something about sheep and-and finding subs because Mike and I are, uh. I guess the future of Hellfire and he needs us and did I mention how important this campaign is? It’s super cool, super gory and totally up your alley and–”

“No.”

“N-no?” Dustin practically deflates in front of you, the light in his eyes dies. 

You shove him away from you, you don’t want to look at his pathetic pouting. You’re so unbelievably hurt right now, so fucking infuriated. “You have spent every goddamn waking hour ass kissing Eddie. You haven’t so much as looked at me during lunch this entire year as if I’m a fucking plague. You’ve canceled plans, you’re hardly ever home, and now you expect me to abandon Lucas, someone who has spent time with me this year, someone who has made this entire year less lonely for me. Something, by the way, that you haven’t even noticed, all because you finally need me?”

Dustin’s mouth opens and closes, he doesn’t know what to say, but for once you don’t care. How could he possibly think you’d miss Lucas’ game tonight? You adore the boys, each and every one of them, and now Dustin expects you to just abandon one of them for the others? 

“You’re only here because it’s convenient for you.” You hiss, venom pouring from your voice. “For Eddie.” 

“Y/N…” Dustin’s voice breaks, he sounds like a little kid again, the baby brother you doted on your entire life. “Please.”

“No!” You scream at him. 

The word echoes throughout the cafeteria. A few students turn to you, some curious, some annoyed. Alex draws into himself, wishing he were anywhere but here right now. Dustin’s eyes widen, his skin pales, and you clamp your hand over your mouth, completely and utterly mortified. 

You’ve never, ever yelled at Dustin like this before. Not with so much malice, vitriol. 

You feel like you’re twelve again, your anger hurting your baby brother. 

Red hot with embarrassment and shame, you quickly get up from the table and flee the cafeteria. Dustin calls after you, but you stumble through the hallway towards the nearest bathroom. Tears burn your eyes, guilt wracks your body in painful thuds. 

By the time you lock yourself in the bathroom’s stall, your sobs have begun to claw their way out of your throat. Pressing your back against the wall, you sink to the ground and pull your knees into your chest as you finally allow yourself to cry.

Abandonment makes you cruel. Your father taught you that.

– 

You don’t see Dustin for the rest of the day. He’s missing Lucas’ game and you’re angry with him for that, but you also feel such an intense guilt over your outburst. You can’t stomach the thought of seeing him. 

School ends and Steve drives you to work. The shift will be a short one due to the championship game, and Steve is staying with you so that you can drive to the game together. However, the moment you get into his car, he notices the dried tears on your face and the redness in your eyes and immediately throws his arms around you. In between shaky breaths and cries, you explain what happened to Steve.

He soothes you, tells you that you can always talk to Dustin after tonight’s game. Right now you and your brother need space from one another, and you hate that Steve’s right. You’ll force Dustin into a code blue, you’re long overdue for one, anyways. He’s been acting weird for weeks now. Someone has to give in, you know this, and if it has to be you then you’ll do anything to get your brother back. 

For now, Steve holds your hand as he guides you through the crowd of people in the bleachers. They all cheer for Hawkins High, the energy in the gym is electric. Faces are painted, cheerleaders wave their pom-poms, and you’re wearing Steve’s old Tigers jersey. You’re not much for school spirit, but Steve almost crashed the car when he realized you were wearing the jersey, and you know Lucas will appreciate it too.

“Y/N, over here.” Steve’s hand falls onto the small of your back as he gently pushes you towards some open seats he’s found. You lean into his touch and sit beside him. With his body against yours, you try to immerse yourself in the joy from the crowd. 

The entire town is here tonight. Everyone is smiling, kids laugh and parents wave posters for their sons. Tonight will be a good night, you’ve decided this to be true. 

The national anthem is announced and everyone rises in their seats. When the broadcaster announces that Tammy Thompson will be singing, you and Steve look at each other incredulously. Laughter rises within you and you cackle when Robin finds the two of you in the crowd. There’s no way this won’t end in disaster. 

Tammy walks out, wearing a horrendous faux cowboy outfit, and almost immediately sings off-key. You cringe, ears stinging from the attack, and try desperately not to let out any laughter as she continues to butcher the song. 

Steve whispers over to Robin, “told you. Muppet.”

“Okay, she does sound like a muppet.” Robin agrees, which only makes it harder to contain your giggles. Tammy is worse than a muppet, she sounds like a goddamn muppet that broke into her dad’s alcohol stash. 

“You sound better, angel.” Steve whispers into your ear, breath warm against your skin. 

You lean back against him and smile sarcastically. “Anyone can sound better than her.”

Steve chuckles and you can’t help but join him. You know it’s rude, that Tammy is honestly not that bad, though definitely not good enough for Nashville, but you can’t help it. You can’t believe Robin ever had such a huge crush on the girl who now drones the national anthem like a dying parrot. 

In between breaths of laughter, you see Lucas looking up at the bleachers. His face is grim, he doesn’t see Mike or Dustin or Max. None of his friends showed up, and you watch him with sympathy. You can’t believe them. 

But then Lucas sees you, and he gives you a weak smile. Your attendance isn’t enough, you know it isn’t, but you hold up the poster you made for him and he laughs despite himself. 

The game starts, and from the moment the whistle is blown, it’s intense. The Tigers are neck and neck with the Falcons. Steve tries to explain what’s happening throughout the game, but it all goes over your head. The energy in the room is intoxicating, though. You lean forward in your seat, you cheer when everyone else does, boo when you think you should.

“Carver just loves hogging the spotlight, doesn’t he?” Steve says with disdain as he watches Jason side sweep his teammates to score. 

You poke his side, you know he’s only saying this because he’s still bitter that Jaosn tried asking you out last summer. “Honey, your jealousy is showing.” 

Steve tries to deny this, but then a player gets injured during a foul from Falcon, causing you and Steve to both spew insults at the player. You have no idea what the foul even is, but you’re enjoying the chaos of the game.

In the midst of your uproar, you almost miss Lucas being sent into the game. You slap Steve’s chest repeatedly to get his attention, you almost don’t believe what you’re seeing. “Steve! Is that–”

“Sinclair!” He whoops, but he quickly scrambles to catch you as you nearly throw yourself off the bleachers in your blind excitement cheering. You’re screaming your head off, hardly even registering Steve’s hands on your waist. You’re incoherent and ecstatic, drunk on adrenaline. 

Lucas is playing.

The game only gets more brutal from there. The points even out, both teams neck and neck. Anxious, you squeeze Steve’s hand with anticipation. Everything happens so fast, Lucas plays so naturally with the others, as if he was born to be there. 

“Go, Tigers!” You jump up and down as Lucas runs after Jason. They’re doing a new play, attempting to score the tie breaker. Jason shoots, the ball hits off the backboard and onto the rim. Your breath catches, there’s only three seconds left on the clock. The ball falls, and there isn’t any time left.

Until Lucas catches the missed shot. He dribbles the ball, you clutch Steve’s hand, neither one of you utters a single word as Lucas makes the final shot. It’s an all or nothing throw, a risk, but he takes it anyways. The ball soars through the air, hits the rim. The buzzer sounds, the game is over, and the ball spins around the rim before finally sinking through the net.

Your chest burns as you violently cheer, Steve flings himself into your arms. You’re both jumping around, screaming together like little kids. “Hey did it!” You scream, and Steve shakes you in his arms with the biggest smile on his face.

“Sinclair did it!”

Down below, Lucas’ face lights up as the crowd goes wild for him. This is the happiest you’ve seen the kid in so long. The entire basketball team swarms Lucas, they lift him into the air and you cheer alongside them.

Steve tells you he’ll go warm the car up and you practically run outside to find Lucas as soon as the game is done. Your body buzzes, you’re still breathless with exhilaration. When you find Lucas, he’s just left the crowd of teenage boys. Wanting to surprise him, you creep up slowly before throwing your arms from behind him. “There’s the star!”

He stumbles from your weight, but he knows it’s you. Laughing, he turns around and you pull him into a bone crushing hug. “You came!”

“Of course I did, you moron!” You giggle, pulling away to straighten his jacket. “I made you a poster and everything.”

Lucas looks down at the poster that hangs by your side. His eyes light up, he remembers seeing it in the stands at the beginning of the game, but he hadn’t been able to read it from so far away. “Can I see it?”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t want to see it.” You unroll the poster and present it with a grand flourish. “Tada!” 

Sin to win, Sinclair!

You’re incredibly proud of the wordplay, and Lucas chuckles. It’s good, he has to admit. You’ve left no white space on the poster, littering with small 8’s for his jersey and millions of small stickers and decorations. The poster was made with love, and Lucas knows you spent hours making it.

“I love it, Y/N.” He does. It will hang on his wall as soon as he gets home.

You beam at him. Then, from behind you, you hear your brother’s own cheers as a door opens. Lucas’ smile fades, hurt creeps upon his face. Frowning, you turn and find Dustin and Mike high fiving their Hellfire friends as they all celebrate the end of their campaign. Erica is with them, cheering with everyone else. 

“Lucas…” Your breath gives out. He doesn’t deserve this. Tonight was supposed to be his night. You turn to him, wracking your brain to try and figure out what you’re even supposed to say at this moment. Fifty feet away Lucas’ close friends are celebrating a night without him, his sister overjoyed as well. They’ve forgotten about him.

For once, you can’t find the right words to say.

“Thanks for the poster, Y/N.” Lucas doesn’t want your sympathy. He leaves, crestfallen, and you’re left standing alone holding the poster he had been praising seconds ago. The late March air chills your bones. 

You’ve never been so disappointed in your brother before.

– 

Steve drives you home and you’re silent the entire time. 

“Dustin isn’t a bad kid, Y/N. You know that.” Steve tries to reason with you, but what your brother has done tonight leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. “I’m sure by tomorrow he’ll realize he was a jerk and apologize. He always does, he’s just being a stupid teen boy right now.”

You face the window, watching the trees fading into the distance. You know Steve is right, you know that Dustin is still growing up, making mistakes. Hell, no one is perfect at fifteen. When you were his age you were falling in love with your best friend as you hunted monsters together. Neither you or Jonathan or Nancy knew what the hell you guys were doing back then.

But this is different. Dustin has never betrayed his friends like this before. He, out of all of them, should understand the pain of being left behind. He spent half the summer upset that the party ditched him, and now he’s ditching Lucas?

“You know, I used to be a stupid teen boy.” Steve says, trying again to get you to say something. To look at him, at least.

It works, a small smile turns your lips. “I never knew.”

He laughs at the sarcasm in your voice, but he plays along anyways. “Oh, I totally was. I just hid it really well by, you know, making you hate me for a while by being annoying. But hey, look at me now! I’m still annoying, but at least I have it all figured out with you.”

“And what do you have figured out, honey?” You turn your head towards him, watch the street lamps illuminate his face.

Steve smiles. “Us. Our future. Sure, I may not know if I’ll ever get a better job, but I’m sure as shit staying with you, starting a life together so that I can annoy you for all eternity.”

“How romantic,” a giggle falls from your lips. You’ve been with Steve for nearly a year now, but you haven’t really talked about the future yet. At least not so intimately, with so much assurance that in the end it’ll be the two of you. “And where will we live, Romeo?”

“New York, obviously. As soon as you graduate, we’ll find some horrible, run down apartment that’s barely big enough for two people. We’ll move in, but there won’t be any air conditioning so we’ll almost murder each other in the heat. Everyone will hate the place, but we’ll love it.”

As Steve talks, the smile that had once been on your face begins to fade. He rambles on, not noticing the shift. He dreams up the plans, how he’ll stay home while you go to class. How he’ll fix the leaky faucet that will inevitably annoy everyone. Steve envisions himself waiting for you to come home after a long day of classes and falling into his arms. 

“Steve–” But he doesn’t hear you. He’s busy explaining how he’ll probably have to sell his car to afford the apartment, but that he doesn’t care, and you feel sick. It’s too much, he’s giving up too much. He’s willing to give up his entire life for you, drop everything and follow you without any questions asked. 

It’s what your mother did for your father. They met in college, both attending Purdue. Their relationship had been a whirlwind. Love at first sight, married as soon as they graduated, your father convinced your mom to follow him back to Virginia. To abandon her family and move two states over while pregnant with you. She didn’t know anyone in Virginia, her father moved them to a small town where only his name was known. 

The divorce that followed twelve years later ruined your mother’s life. She had been left all alone, no family to support her, no friends, in a state she never grew up in.

And now Steve wants to do the same for you.

Raising your voice slightly, you try to interrupt him again. “Steve!”

“What?” He looks over at you, words finally dying. “Do you want to keep the car?”

“You… you can’t.” 

Steve frowns. “I can’t what?”

Your hands shake. Your heart trembles. Your words die in your throat. There’s so much you want to say, you can feel the pit in your stomach build into a fist. You can’t let Steve do this. He doesn’t understand that he deserves more than this. “You-you can’t come to New York.”

Everything stills. You don’t dare to breathe, to disrupt the silence. Your words come out all wrong, you know they do, but they’re out in the open and Steve doesn’t look at you as he pulls into your driveway. Silent, he turns the car’s engine off.

“Y/N…” Steve still can’t look at you. He places his hands on the steering wheel, as if bracing himself for whatever will unfold tonight. He’s scared, he doesn’t understand what he’s done wrong. His mind flashes, and for a brief second he’s back at the Halloween party and you’re Nancy in his passenger seat. “Do you not see a future with me?”

“I do!” You sit up in your seat, reach over to touch Steve’s thigh. You need to feel him, to ground yourself to him. Everything about this feels wrong. As if you’re hanging over the edge of a chasm with a long, long fall. “God, of course I see a future with you, I just-this isn’t what you really want.”

Steve doesn’t want to move to New York, even if he doesn’t realize it now. What he’s really doing is chasing after a dream that isn’t his. The timing of this is off, he fought with his dad this morning about a future he was unsure of. You know Steve, maybe even better than he knows himself; he’s not doing it for your relationship or out of love. Steve only wants to appease his father, fulfill whatever desire he thinks you have. This isn’t what he wants, and he’s worked too hard to build the life he has now, without you, to simply throw it all away.

But he can’t see that right now.

“Of course this is what I want, Y/N! All I want is you.” Steve finally looks at you, but there’s a hardness in his eyes. He’s detaching himself from you, putting his walls up. “You and me, that’s what I want.”

You grab his hand, you try to keep your voice calm. “Steve, I love you so, so much, but I can’t-I can’t let you give everything up for me. Your life is here, in Hawkins. You have a job, you have your friends and-and your family, and it wouldn’t be fair to either one of us if you abandon it for me. You could-you could resent me for it later, you could realize you hate our life and wish you never followed me and–”

“Y/N, what did you think was going to happen when you were applying to all those colleges?” Steve runs a hand through his hair, he thought you were beside him this whole time. He assumed you’d been carving out the same future he had been. But he was wrong. “Did you really think I’d just stay behind and wait for you to come home every break?”

“I…” Shamefully, you hadn't been considering what would happen between you and Steve. In your mind, he was your future, he was in it, but the details were hazy. You weren’t sure how, or why, or when, but you knew that in the end, Steve was the person you’d spend forever with. 

Steve takes your hesitancy as his answer. “God, I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Steve–”

“You were just going to leave me.”

He tears his hand from yours and you blink back tears. You’ve never fought with him before, not like this. “I wasn’t just going to leave you! I just-Steve, please just listen!”

“I am, Y/N!” Steve exclaims, voice reverberating the car. You flinch away, and he immediately lowers his voice, apologetic. He hadn’t meant to scare you, he hadn’t meant to make you cry. Ashamed, Steve turns away from you. “I-I’m sorry.” 

He wants to wipe the tears he’s caused, but selfishly he also wants you to hurt like he’s hurting. You don’t see a future with Steve. You were going to leave him just like everyone else does. 

Steve should’ve known all of this was too good to be true. 

“I love you,” your voice is almost inaudible, the three words barely reach the light before they disappear into the dark night. You’re not sure why you say them, the words had built in your chest, the pressure heavy, and you needed to release them. To remind Steve of your oath to him. 

Silence fills the car. Steve doesn’t look at you, his shoulders are drawn together. His jaw clenches and you know he’s trying desperately to bite his tongue, withholding the cruel words that only heartbreak can provoke. 

“Honey,” you beg him to say something, anything. “Steve.”

“I think you should go.”

The dismissal punches your throat, knocks the wind out of you. He’s shutting you out, closing himself off from you, and you don’t understand how the two of you got here. “I… Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Steve’s words are cool, composed. Indifferent, almost. He still doesn’t look at you, his eyes remain focused on something in your driveway. “It’s late, you should get some sleep.”

“Okay,” you don’t want to leave, you know it isn’t good to go to bed angry with the one you love. Anger should never simmer, it should never be left unwatched. But Steve is silently asking you to give him space so that he can hurt, and you aren’t selfish enough to deny his request. And yet you’re selfish enough to press your lips to Steve’s cheek, but he doesn’t lean in like how normally does. Instead, he remains stoic, and you swallow down your tears and open the door to leave. “Drive home safe, honey.”

Steve doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he starts the car as soon as the door is closed and drives away. He doesn't look back, he doesn’t wait to see if you’ve made it inside your house safely. 

Tears spill down your face as you blindly walk towards your front door. Your argument with Steve replays over and over again in your head. You analyze every second, every word, you try to understand when everything fell apart. 

It’s dark in your home, your mother is asleep and Dustin’s door is closed, but right now all you want is your brother. You need to talk to him, cry into his shoulder and smell the shampoo he’s used ever since he was a baby. Your feet carry you to Dustin’s room and you pound on his door, begging him to let you in. You don’t bother masking the tears in your voice, you’re too exhausted to hide them from him. “Dustin, please let me in.”

“Go away!” There’s a thud on the door, he’s thrown something at it to shut you up. He doesn’t want to hear some stupid lecture right now. He knows he was an asshole tonight, he regrets it, but right now all Dustin wants to do is sleep. He’ll deal with you tomorrow. 

“Code blue,” you press your forehead against the door, your tears fall to the ground. “C-code blue.” Your voice hiccups, more tears come, minutes pass, and your brother never answers.

For the first time since you were kids, Dustin rejects your request for a code blue. 

The phone rings. The sound pierces through your ears, cuts through the headache that is starting to form. It’s Friday night. Jonathan is calling. 

Squeezing your eyes shut as you head pounds, you inhale shakily. You have to answer him, otherwise he’ll only call over and over again with concern. You’ve never missed a phone call, not once in the months since Jonathan has moved, but tonight you’re exhausted. 

“Can we call tomorrow?” You’re too tired to greet him and voice cracks, revealing far too much already.

“Bug?” Jonathan’s high, he’s always high. And yet even in his cloudy haze of smoke he can hear the anguish in your voice. “Is everythin’ okay?”

His question only makes you cry more. You’ve always tried your best to put up a front for others, to pretend that everything is okay. You’ve never wanted to worry people, you’ve always pushed aside your own hurt for the sake of others. Now, as anger and grief and despair clasp their hands around your throat, you’re terrified you’ll suffocate. 

You’ve never been able to lie to Jonathan, and tonight you don’t think you can. “I’ve had… the worst night.” You confess to him, wiping away tears.

You tell him everything, your fight with Dustin, how you think he may resent you leaving for college. You tell Jonathan about Lucas, how you were so disappointed in Dustin and Mike. Choking through tears, you explain to Jonathan your fight with Steve. How your words failed you, how hurt he looked, that you can’t explain to him how he only wants his future to align with yours, but not with your relationship. 

Even though you know that Jonathan won’t remember any of this tomorrow, for once you’re grateful that he’s too high to remember anything. It feels good just being able to say it all out loud. 

“‘M sorry, bug.” Jonathan mumbles over the phone once you’ve finished explaining everything. He sounds far away, figuratively and literally. You can’t imagine how much his drugged mind retained, but you’re thankful to have gotten it all off your chest anyways. 

“It’s fine,” you inhale again, you’ve finally stopped crying, though your chest still hurts and your head still pounds. “Steve and I… We’ll figure it out.”

Jonathan pauses, and for a moment you think he’s fallen asleep, but then his voice floats through the telephone line. “Do you.. Do you ever wonder if we’ve made a mistake?”

He strings his words slowly together, says them one by one with a hesitancy, and you frown. You don’t understand what he’s trying to say. What mistakes could you have made together? “What do you mean, bee?”

“I just… everythin’ is so hard. With Nance. Feel like… like ‘m never enough for her. And you, Steve. ‘S hard between you guys.” Jonathan’s words slur, he’s almost too incoherent to understand, and later you will wish that you hadn’t been able to understand him at all. “But you ‘n me? ‘S easy. Always so easy.”

His words toe the line between you, he can’t mean any of it. You don’t want him to mean any of it, because then the fallout would be too catastrophic to contain.

He’s Jonathan. Your oldest, dearest friend. Your best friend. Years ago, you could’ve been something more, you almost were something more, but the time has passed. 

You’re with Steve now, you’re happy and so, so in love with him. Even though everything is tangled between you right now, even though you’re fighting, you know that you and Steve will figure it out. He’s the one. He’s the man you want to marry one day, if he’ll allow you to. 

Jonathan is your past, Steve is your future, and right now you’re terrified that soon you’ll lose them both.

“Jonathan,” you finally say, his name now heavy on your tongue. It feels like you’re betraying someone while saying his name, but you need to end this conversation. Before Jonathan says something he’ll regret in the morning. “You love Nancy, I love Steve, and you need to go to sleep.”

“Love you,” Jonathan’s words slur even more, his voice drifting off. “You, always you…”

You slam the phone done, ending the call, as a chill runs down your spine. Silence encases you, the house is still. The strings and threads from years ago constrict around your throat. You choke on the lines Jonathan has crossed tonight, the tightness in your head stabs against your skull. 

There is no one to hear you, no one there to hear your final words to your best friend. “Goodbye, Jonathan.”

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ i am no longer doing a taglist, my apologies ! however, please feel free to like, reblog, and comment instead :)

[livin4woso]

Not so little anymore (leah williamson x sister!reader)

Summary- reader who is leahs younger sister comes back to Arsenal after a loan spell at athletico Madrid, and it seems that in that time, you've grown more than leah wants too accept.

Your loan spell in spain had come to an end, and it was time to come back home to Arsenal. It was a bittersweet moment for you as you knew you had missed your family and friends, but you're also gonna miss the guaranteed playing time and not being known as leah williamsons' little sister.

Now, dont get yourself wrong. You absolutely adored your sister, but after her recent success with the euros and womens football on the rise, you slowly slipped in the shadows from the williamson sisters to leahs little sister. She was 7 years older than you so she has always had a bit of a protective streak over you and always viewed you to be that small little girl that you used to be not who you are now. An adult.

You were now 19, and after your season long loan, things had changed. Arsenal had practically got a whole new squad with newer bigger players, but they also had sold some players some who were close friends to you. But also you had changed due to athletico Madrid more intense training style and not knowing the language so you found yourself in the gym more often than not you had grown to be quite a force not to be reckoned with on the pitch. When at madrid, you had also changed your position to right back after playing in centre back your whole youth career to be like leah, you now wanted something different or maybe you needed something different.

When arriving back home, you had decided to stay in your childhood home with your parents while mid search for an apartment near the training ground. Driving into the training ground felt weird. It was a strange feeling of comfort but also unfamiliarity as you knew the place but not the people in it, and those you did know had surely forgotten about you in that time you had been gone. You made your way through the grounds with small chats to staff who were quite happy to catch up with you and ask about your time in spain which had left a linger on you due to your tanned skin.

Your arrival back had been a secret as jonas had insisted to make it some social media post to have hype to your return but in all honesty you weren't a fan of the cameras so this was like a worst nightmare suitation. Jonas greets you at the entrance of the fields before telling you to wait about 10 minutes before coming down into training. "Right, girls, before we start the next drill, i need you to get into pairs," he says, knowing the squad is an uneven number. "We dont have enough for everyone to be in pairs," leah says to him " oh right well leah i have a guest coming in 5 minutes if you want you can help introduce them to everyone" he suggested back and leah gladly accepts his offer.

You have finally been signalled by staff. You can go onto the field, and as you walk down to the girls, you see leah stood next to jonas. She has to double take to see if its you because she swears she's hallucinating that your walking towards her " have you missed me or something lee you're gonna swallow a few flys if you keep you mouth open" you shout towards her dragging the attention of your other teamates. " girls im happy to announce y/n is back from loan" jonas states, and leah pulls you into the most bone crushing hug ever. However, this time, you're not the smaller williamson. You're actually a decent size bigger than her, and your arms had grown, and so had your legs.

"Woahh mini williamson isn't that mini anymore maybe we should start calling you big williamson?" katie shouted at you as she almost tried to size you up. "Yeah well a year in madrid paid off and surely im now the better looking sibling" you joked flexing your bicep at katie knowing she'd find it funny until leah cliped you the back of the head. "Ow, what was that for?" you asked her. "For being a knobhead now come on, we have new people to meet," she said. She had dragged you around to make you meet people and scoled you if you were a foot out of line it felt like she was trying to be your mother than your sister and truthfully that pissed you off.

You had proved to everyone you could live by yourself at just 18 when you went to madrid, now you're 19 in london and being babied. You loved leah. However, she never knew when to stop pushing you until you break. You could easily get over the throwaway comments of "you're my baby sister man" or when she would tell one of your teammates an embarrassing story. However, this time, she went too far.

Kyra alessia lotte and vic had invited you to come out drinking with them and of course you accepted as it would be nice to be able to talk to them without leah shoving the fact shes you're older sister down there throats. You were having a good time and an even better one when a brunette woman asked you to dance with her. She was in her early twenties, and it seemed the other arsenal girls not fussed, so you kissed her, and she kissed back. " You are so pretty, but im really sorry. i have to go, but here's my phone number you should call me," you said, letting go of her waist and walking back to your friends "Don't tell leah i dont need a lecture on sex" you said to them "we wont" kyra says wrapping an arm round your shoulders as you began to make your separate ways home.

However, the brunette had left a mark on you, more specifically, your neck she had littered hickeys down the side of your neck and well it wasnt a big deal everyone has had one so it didn't fuss you. Yet, coming into training, you were in for it. "Y/n come here" leah demanded "mhm yeah sure" " can you please explain why you have been fucking attacked by a vampire on your neck you're not old enough for that at all !" She shouted in front of everyone, yet you had reached your limit and couldn't keep quiet anymore "leah grow up im not 12 anymore you had no issue with me leaving the country for a year and not one of you bothering to come see me so i dont know why you are so hung up on a hickey on my neck" you shouted back and rather then making the suitation worse you walked out the room slamming the door.

Leah was quick to chase you though "y/n wait please" " what leah i don't want a shitty apology or whatever i just want you to treat me like im your friend not your baby sister who needs protecting i grew up and its time for you to realise it" you said trying to make her understand your frustrations.

"Im sorry i will do i guess you're not so little anymore and i forget that but really you need to stop growing i dont want to be the little williamson" she said breaking a smile and since then you found balance between sister and friends and it was perfect.

[milkloafy]

wait..... this is hella cute!!! <3<3<3<3<3<3<3 if ur free to do reqs could you do hsr boys summer headcanons? im not sure if theyre open so it's fine if u dont thx!!! 🩷🩷

SUMMER SUN; SUMMER FUN — AVENTURINE, DAN HENG, JING YUAN

⋆｡˚ ❀ a/n: ty anon for the request!! :> yes they are open so request awayyy ! i love summer sm best season fr so this was such a fun vibe to write :3 i hope u enjoy! i wasn’t sure which hsr guys u wanted so i just picked my current favs AHDKSLDK 

𝜗𝜚 — AVENTURINE

aventurine would love going to the beach with you 

building sand castles, picking seashells, jumping over the shallow waves along the shore

it all feels fun and refreshing to him. something he did not have the luxury to feel when he was younger

at your encouragement, he signs the two of you up for surf lessons one day

aventurine is…not a natural 

you’re both falling off the boards and needing the instructor to come and fish you out of the waves

after a few too many close calls, aventurine decides he never wants to go surfing again 

when the sun sets and golden hour hits, you take one million photos of aventurine, at minimum 

he models and poses for you, enjoying your excitement whenever you get a good shot 

once you’d had your fill, aventurine sneaks a few photos of you as well

he shows you his favorite beach pic of you with a smile

“you’re prettier than the sunset” 

aventurine ends the day off by buying ice cream for the two of you as you head home <3 

𝜗𝜚 — DAN HENG

while dan heng likes the warmth, he is not a fan of the summer heat

he prefers staying indoors during the summer, at the library or in museum with minimal walking around outside during the day

however, he does like sitting underneath the shade of a tree and reading a book 

some days, he’ll set up a hammock between two trees and ask you to join him 

when the heat cools down and the darkness graces the earth, dan heng likes to walk around and go stargazing 

the temperature is perfect at night—not too hot but also not cold enough to need anything other than a long sleeve shirt or a light jacket

dan heng has read about all the constellations you can see in the summer 

he’s disappointed there’s too much light pollution in most places, but for the stars he can see, he points it out to you and explains the story behind it

what constellation it’s part of, what planet is next to it, is that a space vehicle or a cosmo? 

he would definitely go on one of those websites that sell you a star lmao and “buy” one for you

even though he’s aware it’s a scam, he know you’d find it cute. dan heng shows you the certificate of your new star ownership and the two of you look for the coordinates in the night sky together <3

“you deserve the universe, but for now i got you a star”

𝜗𝜚 — JING YUAN

jing yuan thinks going to an amusement park is the peak summertime activity 

doesn’t matter if you are sweating buckets waiting in the long lines surround by body heat. jing yuan comes prepared. he has a hat, a battery-powered fan with a built-in mist spray, and water bottles with ice 

of course, he shares all that with you once you get tired of using your foldable fan

jing yuan is an amusement park snack afficionado. a salty pretzel? yes. a sweet treat? yes. a whole ass turkey leg? also yes. 

you are never hungry during your outing since jing yuan has you covered 

when you want photos taken of you, you show jing yuan exactly how you want it—angle and zoom and everything

yet when he takes the photo, it comes out off

crooked. blurry. you’re half cut off…

the only good photo he took of you is one where you weren’t prepared and have a horrendously silly look on your face 

“jing yuan… delete that right now.” 

“why? i believe it is called a ‘candid’ by the young folks. very popular.” 

you may not have come out with good photos of yourself, but at least you and jing yuan had fun and will treasure these memories forever. no matter how bad the photo to capture it is. 

[b14augrana]

Scrubber: Off-season

You go on vacation with all your teammates and the location is somewhere familiar to them

Barça Femení x teen!reader

Part of the Scrubber universe

pt. 2 masterlist

Warnings: none! just a long, cute fic 👼

A/N: scrubber content is back 💝 just a little filler / mini scrubber series while the next part to the actual series gets written slowly but surely. i’ll most likely write a part 2 if people want x

fridolinarolfo

→ Does anyone have vacation plans??!

ingrid_engen

→ no not yet 🫤

fridolinarolfo

→ Hellooooo where is everyone else

ingrid_engen

→ get active plz @/aitanabonmati @claudiaapina @/yourname @/alexiaputellas

Replied to fridolinarolfo

Does anyone have vacation plans??!

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↳ anyways why did you ask about plans for the holiday? do you have any?

yourname

→ i dont have plans frido. omg do you wanna hang out??? 😋

patri8guijarro

→ I’m not doing anything

fridolinarolfo

Replied to yourname

i dont have plans frido. omg do you wanna h…

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↳ I have an idea 🙂‍↕️ How about we all go on vacation together? We can all decide on a place

❤️ 8

ona.batlle

→ That sounds fun 😍 Nobody be boring and say no!!!!

yourname

→ ona’s right it does sound fun i wanna do it plz 🐒

alexiaputellas

→ Where will we go

ingrid_engen

→ hmm any ideas guys? 🥴

claudiaapina

→ Ibiza so we can party 🔥🔥

alexiaputellas

→ No not with bebita around

👎 1

yourname

→ guys my friend said we should go to new zealand. i think she is biased bc she is from there but it looks like a nice place 😄

fridolinarolfo

→ I really liked New Zealand actually

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↳ I wish we stayed longer 🫠

ingrid_engen

Replied to fridolinarolfo

I really liked New Zealand actually

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↳ same!! it was such a nice place and the people were really sweet

❤️ 6

patri8guijarro

→ We should go to New Zealand on vacation 🤩

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↳ Me María and Clau didn’t go with you guys for the world cup so its our first time

yourname

Replied to patri8guijarro

Me María and Clau didn’t go with you guys f…

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↳ i haven’t gone there either PLZZZZZ can we go guys pleaseeeeee 🙏🙏🤞

alexiaputellas

→ I liked it there so if everyone else wants to then yes I think we should go 🙌🏼

❤️ 9 🔥 4 🎉 2

patri8guijarro

→ Barça on tour already??? 🤣

❤️ 7 😂 5

“I’m so excited for our break!” you exclaimed, skipping over to Alexia. The team was warming down in the gym after a training session, and you had all spent the entire day talking about your plans to go on vacation in New Zealand.

“I’m excited too. It’ll be nice to actually enjoy New Zealand, because we didn’t get much time during the World Cup,” Alexia said, walking at a steady pace on the treadmill. You leaned on the handle, nodding at her words, “I can’t wait. It looks so awesome, and my friend said it is awesome.”

“Who’s your friend?” the woman asked, looking at you with a small smile as you responded. “I met her in the park a few weeks ago — her name’s Ludo. She told me that she was born in Italy but lives in New Zealand, and apparently she’s studying here, in Barcelona. How cool is that?”

Alexia raised her eyebrows, a surprised expression on her face, “Really cool, and she’s right, New Zealand is awesome. I liked Auckland a lot. There’s a tall skyscraper in the city that lights up at night. Se ve precioso.”

“Hey, maybe next time we can go to Australia for vacation. Laia must have some friends at Arsenal that can give us some advice on where to go,” she added. Australia was another place you thought was beautiful. The beaches looked so… beach-y. They looked like the type of beaches you imagine when you hear the word ‘beach’, but Barcelona beaches weren’t too far off either in your humble beach-lover opinion.

"Are you two talking about the holidays?" It was Ingrid asking now, and she emerged from the other side of Alexia. You nodded, a smile on your face. "Yeah. I can't wait, it's literally all I've been thinking about, I'm so excited! I want to go to the beach and the city– Patri! Clau!" you yelled, beckoning to the women across the room, "We should go bungee jumping!"

Patri's face lit up. "I'll do anything that gives Ale a heart attack," she jeered, nudging Alexia gently as she stepped off the treadmill and wiped her forehead with a towel. "Cállate, tonto," Alexia laughed.

“I’m excited to try their coffee. I hope they’ve got a good coffee culture,” Ingrid said, earning a hum of agreement from Fridolina, another café enthusiast.

There were so many things to do, you couldn't keep up. When you and Irene got home, you immediately dashed to your room and flopped onto your bed with your notebook and laptop open, searching up and scribbling down a list of activities for you guys to do during your time in New Zealand. It ranged from bowling at an arcade to dining in a restaurant situated at the top of a skyscraper, so the options were endless.

Honestly, you were just happy to be going on holiday with your teammates. The destination didn’t matter.

Mateo stumbled into your room with his stuffed moose, Bombón, and climbed onto your bed, sitting politely beside you with his moose in his lap.

“Teo, me and Mami are going on holiday, so you and Bombón will be with Madre for a little bit,” you explained, earning a little nod from Mateo who pointed at your laptop screen.

“Es aquí donde vas?” he questioned, motioning to the photos on the website you had open. “Sí. Bonita, verdad?” Mateo smiled and replied with a little ‘Sí.’

“Nenita,” Irene yelled from the living room. You peered out of your bedroom as she spoke, “Can you text Fridolina and ask her how we’re booking the flight tickets?”

You nodded and retreated into your bedroom again, picking up your phone and opening iMessage.

yourname

→ @/fridolinarolfo how are we booking the tickets frido??

fridolinarolfo

→ 😅😅

patri8guijarro

→ Let’s take the Barça plane 🤣🤣

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↳ It’s there for a reason lol

claudiaapina

→ Barça plane or I’m not going 💯

fridolinarolfo

→ 🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↳ I’ll ask Jona then

“Irene, Frido’s gonna ask Jona if we can take the big plane!” you said. She didn’t respond for a minute, but then she appeared at your bedroom door. “The Barça plane? The one with our faces on the side?”

You nodded once more, and Irene let out a laugh as she shook her head. “Claudia’s idea, or Patri’s?” she asked. “Patri’s, but Claudia did say that she’s not going if we don’t take that plane,” you giggled, showing her the texts on your phone. Two tiny hands grabbed ahold of you as Mateo braced on your arm and took a peek at your phone screen.

The next day, Alexia picked you up to take you to training while Irene dropped Mateo off at preschool. It was one of the last training days before the season ended, so there were some bittersweet feelings surrounding the next few days.

"I love being at work and I'm a bit sad because this season has been so good, a holiday only means it's finished,” Aitana said while you two sat down and used the foam rollers beneath your legs, “But pequeñita, the last time I went to New Zealand, all I wanted to do was win the World Cup, so I didn't do anything around the city because we weren't there for a holiday. Now that we have won it, I want to do as much as we can!”

Fridolina burst through the doors of the gym with a big smile on her face, her gym bag slung over her shoulder. “I just asked Jona about taking the Barça plane and…”

Everyone looked at her eagerly, waiting for the verdict.

“It’s a yes... but we have to pay for our own tickets since it isn’t for work.”

Claudia was the first to jump up and celebrate, followed by Patri and then everyone else. The tickets part didn’t matter, because you all got to sit together anyways.

“We’re going to New Zealand!”

After your training session, you all sat in a circle to do some stretches. The stretches part happened for maybe a minute, before you pulled a folded piece of paper out of your pocket and laid it out flat on the grass in front of you all. "I wrote down a bunch of things we can do in New Zealand. There's something for everyone, so don't worry about missing out on any cafés, Ingrid," you jeered.

Patri grabbed the paper and scanned it, a smile quickly appearing on her face. She passed it down to Claudia, and the paper made its way around the circle before ending up in the middle again.

"I want to have dinner at the skyscraper restaurant," Alexia said, her eyes lighting up as she spoke about it. A few people hummed in agreement, including you.

Claudia scoffed and shook her head, "The first thing we're doing is going to the theme park. Look forward to dinner at dinnertime!"

"You look forward to dinner at breakfast time."

"Okay, shut up Mapi."

"What about the trampoline park? You guys are totally ignoring the trampoline park!" Patri exclaimed, flailing her hands in the air. Alexia laughed and leaned back on her arms, "Yeah, because a group of grown women are allowed to be in a trampoline park with little kids. We'll crush them!"

"Not if we rent the whole place out," Patri winked, making Alexia raise her eyebrow. "Imagine that! A trampoline park, all to ourselves."

Alexia shook her head, laughing once more, "That wouldn't be too bad. At least you three could be clowns and not hurt anyone's kid," she remarked, motioning to you, Patri, and Pina, all of which made faces at her.

"It would be way cooler to hire the theme park for the night. No lines, unlimited turns, and we wouldn't need to wait forever for food," Claudia responded.

"We should go to the beach!" Ingrid chimed, pointing at the sheet of paper. That was something everyone could agree on; a nice day at the beach, soaking up the sun. There was nothing quite like the Barcelona sun, but you could at least see if the New Zealand sun came close to comparing.

“(Y/N), come on!” Alexia yelled from the living room, rolling her suitcase along the floor. You groaned, currently in the middle of trying to zip your own luggage up. “I’m almost done!”

You sat on top of your suitcase, desperately trying to push it down, and eventually, you finally managed. With a sigh of relief, you quickly zipped it up with one hand while the other kept pushing it. Alexia appeared at your door, sticking her head through the gap, “Have you got it, Chiquita?” You nodded, heaving the suitcase off your bed and onto the floor with a thud as you smiled proudly. “All done!”

"I logged into Hay Day for you, because I knew you'd be busy and forget," Alexia added, a smile of her own now gracing her features as yours simply widened. "Graciés, Ale!" you exclaimed, wheeling your suitcase forward. You stopped at the door as Alexia pulled you into a hug and placed a quick kiss to your forehead.

"Are we forgetting anything?" she asked, walking with you to the living room, and you thought about it for a moment before shaking your head with an unsure expression, "I don't think so..."

“Wait!”

You ran back into your room quickly, skidding around the corner. Alexia could hear you rummaging around for something and mumbling, ‘Where is it’ and, ‘Mierda’ before you emerged from the room empty handed. She looked down at your feet and laughed when she saw the navy blue house slippers on your feet, paired with the Barça socks you were already wearing.

“Don’t laugh, you don’t understand how nice they are,” you grumbled, brushing her off as she laughed even harder.

The pair of you walked out of Alexia’s apartment with your suitcases in hand, and you took the elevator down to the car park. There was a brief silence in the elevator for a moment, but the urge got the best of you and you began making faces at Alexia in the mirror.

You returned to a normal expression when she suddenly looked at you with her eyebrow raised, and you glanced back at her like she was crazy for being suspicious of you. Once she turned back around, you continued making stupid faces in the mirror while she wasn't looking.

The antics didn't stop when she eventually caught you; instead, Alexia joined in, poking her tongue out at you in the mirror until you both were going back and forth making silly faces at each other for the rest of the elevator ride. Soon, the empty car park was filled with the sound of laughter as the pair of you exited the elevator, stumbling over your own two feet from laughing too hard while you walked to her car.

She unlocked the car and you both hauled your suitcases into the trunk with a grunt. "Dios mío, it wasn't this heavy before..." Alexia mumbled, pulling the trunk lid down before strolling to the driver's side.

You nodded in agreement, letting out a slightly exasperated sigh as you sunk into the passenger seat.

"I can't wait until I can drive," you remarked, buckling your seatbelt. "When that happens, you owe me about... 1,000 car rides," Alexia teased, buckling her own seatbelt as she glanced at you with a small smile. You rolled your eyes, seemingly annoyed at her words, but the smile on your own face told other tales.

You wound down the window a bit, filling the car with fresh air as you emerged out of the car park and traversed the streets of Barcelona. "Are we picking anyone else up?" you inquired, and she shook her head.

"We were going to pick up Irene, but Lucia said she'd drop her off at the airport," Alexia responded, and you acknowledged her words with a little 'oh'.

"Want anything to eat, Chiquita?" Alexia asked, glancing at you for a sliver of a second. You contemplated her question carefully, hesitating every time you thought you had an answer, until eventually you came up with a nod of your head. "I'm craving an almond croissant, you know the ones?"

The blonde nodded her head, knowing exactly what you meant. It only took a few turns before Alexia pulled over in front of your favourite pastry bakery. "Vale, I'll be 2 minutes," she notified, opening her car door and shutting it behind her as she headed for the entrance of the bakery.

Shortly after, she returned with a brown paper bag in hand and a smile on her face. Opening the car door once again and sitting down in her seat, she handed you the bag. Immediately, the sweet aroma of a fresh-out-the-oven, icing sugar-dusted, almond-garnished croissant graced your nostrils. "Graciés, hermana," you thanked her, a smile akin to hers on your face.

"Want a bite?" you asked, offering the warm pastry to her as she merged back onto the main road. She took a little nibble, mumbling a thanks in between her bite. As soon as she straightened herself up, you brought your croissant back to your mouth and took a massive bite, savouring every moment spent with icing sugar on your face. ‘It adds to the experience,’ you thought.

The last bites were consumed at an agonisingly slow pace. You wanted to savour the almond-y goodness, but you also wanted to wolf it down and quit stalling — you were conflicted. Would New Zealand have such nice almond croissants? Probably not, but you’d never know unless you tried!

The prospect of more almond croissants in New Zealand got you through the last few bites without having to mourn the pastry, and before you knew it, the airport was coming into sight.

Travelling wasn’t a new concept for you; in fact, you had lived abroad in France before. You couldn’t say why, but you did for two years (give or take a few months), and some would call it a miracle that Lyon didn’t pick you up before Barcelona did.

You hated living in France anyways. It was pastry heaven, of course, but it was not Vidić lover heaven. They were all about Zidane and Henry, not a single word about Vidić. It was understandable, but still, not cool.

Also, the amount of pigeons freaked you out.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you pulled it out, already knowing who it was. Alexia’s buzzed too, but as she rummaged around for it, you had already opened the message, so she just looked at your screen.

claudiaapina

→ Where are you all

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↳ Deja de ser perezosa hermanas 🙄

patri8guijarro

→ Don’t listen to her we just got here because someone @/claudiaapina wanted to stop and pet someone’s dog 🖕🏻🖕🏻

claudiaapina

Replied to patri8guijarro

Don’t listen to her we just got here because s…

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↳ Cállate cerdita

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 💩 1

fridolinarolfo

→ I’m here with Aitana we’re just getting a bite

yourname

→ me and ale just got here 😆

lucybronze

→ I’m with Ona in the lounge 🥴

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↳ I saw Marta dragging Caro to the duty free though 🤣🤣

graham95

→ Be quiet Lucy I saw you kicking a vending machine earlier 😒

ingrid_engen

→ im here with maría now

yourname

→ i see irene 🥳🥳🥳🥳

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↳ bye guys me and ale will see you inside 🥸

You switched your phone off, shoving it back into your pocket as Alexia spoke with a smile. “This is going to be a fun trip.”

You nodded, your face contorting into a smile of your own as you unbuckled your seatbelt. “Let’s grab our stuff and go to Irene,” you said eagerly, jumping out of the car and rushing to the trunk, pushing up the lid so you could lift your suitcase out slowly.

You wheeled it around the side of Alexia’s car before abandoning it and breaking into a sprint towards Irene, but you were actually heading for Mateo who was toddling along behind her. You swooped him into your arms, and Irene bore an affectionate smile as she watched you carry him.

“Pequeño, I’m gonna miss you!” you said, placing the toddler back down. He latched onto your leg, hugging it tightly, and you ruffled his hair. “I’ll bring you back a friend for Bombón, I promise,” you added, giving Mateo one last hug before picking him up once more and handing him to Lucia. Irene gave the two one last hug goodbye, and then put an arm around your shoulder while her other one held the handle of her suitcase.

Alexia wheeled your luggage back over to you, and held her own in her other hand. “Ready to go?” she asked you and Irene, who both nodded.

“Let’s go!”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

[lisired]

pretty little weapon

pairing: undercover cop!mark x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, organized crime, cop x criminal, graphic depictions of blood and violence, mentions of death, smut, choking, oral (f receiving), biting, a pinch of angst, mentions of pregnancy-related death, unprotected sex (dont b silly, wrap ur willy!), vague mentions of sexual assault

summary: A lifetime worth of adversity had brought you to Bloodlust. You joined them to escape your history, but with Mark Lee - an undercover narcotics agent with a secret to keep - comes the threat of being forced to confront your past. Old wounds are opened, but scars heal.

word count: 25.7k (…i have nothing to say for myself.)

a/n: inspired by PLW by leon thomas, bad news by kehlani, and perfect crime by tinashe! bon appetite! I did this on a whim. read this with the 2 baddies styling concept in mind. as always, feedback is appreciated!

You were going to be absolutely livid if Yuta didn’t up your pay.

After a long night of work, you anticipated crawling into your sheets. Then waking up to a large sum of money deposited into your account in the morning as courtesy of your hard work.

That never happened.

“This was not in the job description,” you complained to your boss. Though there was technically never a clock for you to be on, you had already firmly clocked out. And when he invited you on this escapade, you were inclined to deny. But he was nothing if not unrelenting.

Yuta smirked and brushed you off. “You do stone cold murder for a living, baby. This is what you signed yourself up for the moment you killed somebody.”

God, you hated when he was right. Sometimes all you ever wanted to do was argue with whatever he said. Moments like this when he began cutting down on your downtime.

Soaring through flocks of people, you kept very close to Yuta’s side, his arm firm around you. People knew not to mess with him, and thus anyone considered his associate. That was one of the beauties of working for Bloodlust, you supposed. As long as you were loyal and faithful to them, you were guaranteed total protection and discretion against anyone.

The tale of how you secured a job of this nature in the first place was relatively simple. You were scouting the streets as usual, given it was the only home you’d known. Violence was absolutely nothing new to you as you had been in your fair share of street gangs prior to Bloodlust. But one thing led to another and you had blood on your hands in an act of self defense. Specifically the blood of your own fellow gangster.

Just your luck, Yuta witnessed the scene. He was a stranger at the time, some shady man offering help that looked like nothing short of trouble. You found yourself surprised that you even took his deal, but you weren’t left with any alternatives. Going back to the gang was not an option; there was no telling how the leader would respond to the blood of your superior being on your very hands. There was no mercy there.

Yuta vowed to cover for you, but you would perpetually owe him in return. You were expecting something more lewd when he informed you that you would be working for him, though you did nothing of the sort. Yuta took you under his wing and handed you a job as a contract killer.

And the rest was history.

You hurdled closer to his chest, pursuing warmth. Given the hour and the season, the outdoors were becoming frostier. You exhaled and saw your breath condensing in the air.

“Stay put,” Yuta said. As if you would run off anywhere. You were tempted, though you weren’t stupid. And though you would never admit it to his face, you loved the street races.

After you nodded, Yuta parted without having to worm his way through the crowd. They respected him, though most of it was out of pure fear. They made way for him whenever they saw him approaching.

You eyed the roads while you waited. The street races were one of your favorite aspects of the gang. They were orchestrated by Yuta and were a great source of profit overall. But watching them was the part you were fond of.

One of the cars before you caught your eye - a neon green Porsche. You had barely laid a finger on the exterior before you were forcibly knocked backwards, your face slung to the other side.

You held your cheek in your palm, adrenaline pumping through your veins. There was no immediate pain. You didn’t even feel like you were in your body. You could only stumble as you grasped to process what happened.

A visibly upset man - one of the racers - was waving his fist at you, screaming this profanity and that, but from the looks of it you hadn’t left as much as a scratch on his car. And if he thought he was going to intimidate you, he had another thing coming. Brutal adrenaline came over you and you socked him square in the jaw. Harder.

The racer was knocked to the ground by the force. “You’re gonna regret that,” he growled. You merely laughed. It was comical and you almost took pity on him. This guy clearly had no idea what forces were on your side. Not until he noticed Yuta and Johnny beginning to rush in his direction and he bolted.

The gang had very simple rules and even simpler consequences. If you disobeyed, you died. They were so simple that if you violated them, they read it as an act of defiance. The most obvious rule was to respect the high-ranks and their associates. The second was to comply, or your punishment would be fatal.

Another man came to your side and lowered you to the ground for inspection. This one you didn’t recognize at all. “Yo, are you okay?”

“It doesn’t hurt that bad,” you said, moving your fingers from your cheek to your lips. When you glanced down at them, you saw blood.

The stranger handed you a napkin. “Here.”

You took it and wiped your mouth, and thus the blood at the corner of your lips. That was one hell of a punch. Rather than feeling pain, you were in a state of immobilizing shock.

“Thanks, uh…,” you squinted your eyes, running his face through the facial recognition system installed in your memory. But you came short. Which was surprising, because you always remembered the faces of the regulars.

“Mark,” the stranger finished. Then he flashed you a smile. “It’s nothing. You should get that checked out, though. Make sure nothing’s broken or fractured.”

You nodded. As a result of uttering any speech, you noticed that your jaw slightly ached when you spoke. For fuck’s sake. None of this would have happened if you were in your bed.

Then Mark disappeared. And you had no time to think before you heard a piercing noise.

Gunshots rang in the distance and you weren’t at all surprised to see Yuta and Johnny return with sinister looks on their faces. Yuta helped you to your feet and asked, “You good, Scar?”

Scar was the alias you’d been granted after Yuta noticed the scar on your stomach. Rather than finding it odd, he was astonished by it. Which was so utterly Yuta of him. The alias served no other purpose than maintaining your confidentiality, but Yuta always thought it had a nice ring to it.

“Not the first time I’ve been punched. I think I’m gonna be fine,” you assured him. The gods had blessed you with an unholy pain tolerance, which all your tattoos were a testament to. You remembered the matching one you got with Yuta and subconsciously smiled.

Friends like Yuta were, needless to say, rare.

All of the evil melted from Yuta’s face and he chuckled. “You’re a tough woman.”

“You love it.”

“I do.” Yuta curled his arm around you again. You were certain he was going to cuff one of your hands to his arm and never let you out of his sight again. “I was surprised that you didn’t finish that guy then and there. You took a pretty mean punch, babe. Must’ve been too shocked.”

That you were. But he was taking a nice load of bullets to the head before you even got the chance.

After the races were over and the roads were cleared out, you followed Yuta to his car. You suddenly had a thought once you hit the road.

“Yuta, do you know someone named Mark?”

Yuta furrowed his brows. “Nah. Why?”

Your heart sank. “Fuck.”

He glanced at you for a split second before returning his eyes to the road, but asked, “What’s wrong?”

“There was this guy at the race. He helped me and gave me a napkin to wipe the blood off of my face, but I didn’t recognize him. He told me his name was Mark.”

Yuta was alarmed. Just as you expected. It was one thing if you didn’t recognize a person at one of the gang’s events, but not Yuta. He had to ensure the attendee’s identities were closely monitored for everyone’s sake.

“Fucking hell?” Yuta handed you his phone and said, “Call Jaemin for me and tell him to look into the records. Maybe it slipped my mind. Let’s not jump to any conclusions, okay?”

You nodded your head and did as told, pressing his phone to your ear. Jaemin told you that he was AFK but would run a search as soon as he got back to the headquarters. Yuta dropped you off promptly and assured you that he’d call you with an update first thing in the morning.

Which only left you to wait.

In the morning, Yuta called you into his office, and you were immensely surprised to see not only him but Ten and Taeyong waiting for you in the room. Technically, you didn’t work for Bloodlust as a whole. There was a team of hitmen that worked specifically under one high-rank, though you were Yuta’s subordinate. Thus, encounters with other high-ranks were rare. Especially the leader.

Taeyong was the leader and the one at the helm of the entire gang. He inherited the title by succession to the metaphorical throne through descent. Yuta was his right-hand man, though given Taeyong rarely stepped out of the shadows unless absolutely necessary, Yuta being perceived as the leader was a popular misconception to outsiders and law enforcement. Which was completely deliberate. The less law enforcement knew, the better. It also made the task of differentiating interlopers from legitimates much lighter.

Ten was the gang’s personal spy. Their eyes to the other world. Just like any other high-rank, he directly supervised an entire branch of people pertaining to his title. Essentially, he was the leader of a team of criminal agents.

None of that explained why they were here, though.

As it was in your best interest, you greeted the three of them very politely. Though Yuta had a threatening position, you were close enough to be informal. Those freedoms didn’t apply to Ten and the leader. They might have been as good as strangers, but considering their influence in the underworld, they could have ended your life and career in an instant if they so pleased.

Glancing at Yuta, you said, “You called me, Boss?”

Yuta resisted a smirk at your attempts to be formal. You never called him ‘Boss’. “I did. I had Jaemin follow up on the Mark guy. We found something recent about him in our records.”

Ten interjected, “But I had a buy-off of mine’s confirm his real identity. He’s a Lee Minhyung. An undercover narcotics agent once tasked with tracking down a drug empire, and now that he shut them down we believe he’s moved on to attempting to infiltrate our ranks.”

Your blood ran cold. Frozen over in your veins. Forever grateful were you that you were excellent at maintaining your composure. Otherwise you would have panicked.

Taeyong stood at the far end of the pair. You had heard numerous things about him, but you were left gasping for air every time you saw him in person. If looks could kill, you would’ve been six feet under. Taeyong continued, “I’m sure you can guess why this is an urgent problem for us. It is my direct responsibility to protect the identities of those that put their faith in this gang and ensure their confidentiality. Now that we have a cop meddling in our affairs, that complicates things.”

That was to put it simply. The police infiltrating their territory was a direct threat imposed to the future of the empire. The moment the diplomacy was dismantled, so was the entire gang. Bloodlust in itself was intended to be an enigma. The purpose of hiring hitmen and establishing them by individual aliases was to deliberately make it difficult to link crimes to the gang. In return, your genuine identities were concealed. There was too much at stake to remain idle.

You supposed it made sense that Mark was kind to you. That made it easier to gain people’s trust. Though in the underworld, it made you look suspicious. Which led you to another question; if he was benevolent to you, did that mean you were specifically targeted?

You leaned forward in your chair and asked, “What does he know about the gang?”

“That’s where we hit a dead end,” said Ten, frustrated thoroughly. Whatever information they were relaying to you was everything they knew themselves. “Since he engaged with you, we considered that he might have a lead on you. If that’s true, most likely he’ll interact with you again given the opportunity.”

That didn’t alarm you. For most of your life, you’d lived on the edge, and that was especially true when you were a member of those prior street gangs. If your old friends sold you out, you wouldn’t be surprised. Yuta informed you early on that Bloodlust could keep your future under lock and key, though not your past.

But you were very suspicious. They wanted something out of you, that much was clear. Something significant. There was no other reason why the leader himself was before you. Though what?

“With all due respect, I don’t understand my involvement in this.”

Taeyong was straightforward. “We want you to play along.”

You nearly gawked. “Excuse me?”

He wasn’t the least bit bothered by you and continued, “The best way to fight fire is with fire. If Lee Minhyung wants to use you as his means of conveying intel, then let him, but lead him astray while doing so.”

In short, they wanted you to give Mark false information. Which steered far from your line of work. Why they chose you for the job in spite of having people actually equipped for the task was a mystery. Yuta was not kidding when he said that you signed yourself up for additional labor the moment you killed somebody. 

Frowning, you tried to stave them off. “You’re just gonna send a girl with no prior experience into the wild?”

“Must I remind you that we have full access and authority to all of your history stored in our records?” Ten sneered in amusement. “Think of it as a resume. It’s been a few years, but yours was very memorable. This wouldn’t be your first mole job.”

That was true. Anyone recruited to work for the gang was required to give a complete rundown of their history. Even recruits like you that didn’t respond to them directly. They made it very clear that lying would have put you in an early grave; Bloodlust had eyes everywhere.

“And you wouldn’t be uncompensated. I’ll triple your pay,” Yuta added.

That had your undivided attention. “I’m listening.”

Yuta fought a snicker. He expected nothing less. “We know that this isn’t what you usually do, but the job is very simple. It’s expected that he’ll try to extract information from you, so give him the wrong info. At the same time, try to figure out what he knows and what he wants. There’s a motive behind him targeting you and until we can confirm otherwise, we have to assume you’re his prey and he has valuable intel in his possession.”

“Why not just kill him upfront?”

“He might be valuable,” came Ten’s reply. “Whatever he knows, it’s safe to assume that he isn’t the only one.”

“We will be closely monitoring the entire empire for any turncoats, but he’s not alone. He has a partner,” warned Taeyong with a hefty stare. “So you have to be cautious about what you say to him.”

Ten began to get impatient and said, “So, do we have a deal?”

Tapping the arms of the office chair, you pretended to mull the proposition over although you had already made your decision. If their motive in collectively ganging up against you was to make you feel pressured into agreeing, you were almost inclined to decline the offer out of pure spite. But the genuine interest you had in the assignment discouraged you. There was too much at stake to play games.

There’s no good reason to decline, you decided halfway through the offer. Exposing yourself to law enforcement might’ve seemed too risky, but law enforcement potentially exposing you was even riskier. And you were no stranger to games of deception. Devising devious stratagems was one of the first skills you acquired.

You feigned indifference and replied, “Fine. I’ll play make-believe with the boy with a death wish.”

Yuta failed to resist his snicker this time, but it was true. Bloodlust gained its name for a special reason. For over a decade they had climbed their way to the top and were successful because they had no mercy for those that crossed them. You had faith that this was going to end with Mark having a bullet put through his brain.

After all, he wouldn’t be the first. Just another casualty.

Ten smiled, satisfied. His smile was alluring though likely deceptive, although you expected nothing less from the head of Bloodlust’s criminal agents himself. You had a feeling he was the one that suggested cornering you. “Good. You’re probably already aware that I administrate the spy squad. You won’t be working for me per se, but Jaemin and I will serve as your resources.”

Jaemin was another high-rank, the hacker and leader of their general technology team. If you ever thought you had hid a file or record from him; think again. In all your years of working for Yuta, you had never even caught a glimpse of the man’s face in person. He could only be spotted somewhere with a signal yet caved away.

You left that room with a mission. Jaemin had ID’d Mark’s partner and sent you a full report on them. Lee Minhyung, twenty-three, one of the youngest in his division and yet one of the most accomplished. He had spent merely three months undercover to overthrow a drug empire, and now he was scouting the big shots. Lee Jeno, twenty-two, and fresh out of the training program. There wasn’t much on him, obviously, but according to his evaluations, he had ambitions and was following in Mark’s footsteps.

Frankly, you were impressed. The reason neither of them had been detected until now was because they signed up the rightful way. No one suspected anything was amiss because their department created fake ID’s and hid their authentic ones. Nothing that Jaemin couldn’t find, though.

Needless to say, you had your work cut out for you.

The next time you saw Mark Lee was at another street race event. According to Jaemin, Mark and his partner were fresh recruits and had only been present for a few days at best, though he had quickly decided that the races were his favorite hunting grounds.

For a cop, Mark was remarkably easy to spot in a crowd, but he was playing the criminal role well enough. He had red hair that burned brightly and dressed the flashy part. You had yet to see him without a Cuban link.

You approached him and greeted, “‘Sup, Markie.”

Mark raised a brow. “Markie?”

“Do you not like it?” you asked, smiling innocently. You inched in on him, but left a safe distance between you two. The last thing you wanted was to make him uncomfortable by invading his personal space. “How about Marco? Or Markus? Even better - Little Red Riding Hood.”

Mark snickered. “Markie is fine. Thank you, Tony Stark,” he quipped.

“MCU fan?”

“You bet.”

He genuinely piqued your interest at that. Maybe pretending to like him wouldn’t be so hard. You breathed, “I love you already.”

He laughed. Then concern washed over his face. “Hey, your face okay?”

“Yup,” you replied, giving him a thumbs up. “I got it checked out like you said. Nothing broken or fractured. It’s a little sore, but I’ll be good as new in a couple days.”

“You’re a tough cookie,” he complimented.

You chortled. “So I’ve heard.”

With a broad smile, Mark continued, “That was one hell of a punch you landed on that dude, though. Knocked the guy flat on the ground. Where’d you learn how to fight like that?”

Here came the invasiveness. You decided to be as vague as possible about your past - and current - gang affiliations. You shrugged. “The streets. Polished my skills in the fighting ring, though.”

“There’s a fighting ring?”

“Oh, no wonder I’ve never seen you around these parts before. You’re a total newbie,” you laughed, shaking your head.

“It’s only my fourth day out here,” Mark told you. Which was the truth. You were very unsurprised to find he was taken under the drug trafficking operation, which was ran by Jisung. “Yo, I never caught your name.”

You gave Mark your name, although you had a feeling he already knew. Jaemin and Ten were actively working together to uncover everything the unit had on you and the gang.

“I can show you the ropes,” you offered. Given where he stood, you knew those words alone had him hooked on you. It was safe to assume the drug empire was his primary, but offering him the gang’s additional means of money-making on a silver platter would have any officer’s mouth watering. “Take you on a tour. The gang has plenty of places to kill time while simultaneously making hella cash off of them.”

Mark’s eyes gleamed with intrigue. “Smart business. I might just take you up on that.”

“Bloodlust is all about smart business,” you remarked. Then, you began to do some prying of your own. It wasn’t all that risky to give up some of their territory, but everything came with a price. “Say - who did Boss put you under?”

“The Jisung guy. Drugs.” Mark shrugged. “Nothing major. They don’t trust newbies directly with the hardcore shit, and for good reason. But he told me that it’ll pay well, and if I stick around long enough, I can work my way up.”

Of course, it paid very well. No matter how low-ranking the position. They were trafficking illegal drugs and substances. It was one of their most lucrative branches.

You also hadn’t failed to notice how Mark mentioned that if he stayed long enough, he could work his way higher. That was common knowledge, though you doubted he was unaware of how problematic leaving a gang was. He had the prior experience, and even on his last mission he didn’t vacate the syndicate until he successfully seized the ranks. In other words, he wasn’t withdrawing until he had shot the entire gang down by its very heart and core.

Which was the inner circle.

That was a pressing reminder to keep your guard up. Though Mark seemed likable, it was very intentional. You knew he wouldn’t hesitate to persecute you to the highest extent of the law and you would maintain that same lack of mercy.

You played along, bobbing your head. “Met the boss yet?”

Mark shot you a wince. “Not formally. And I’ve heard around that the less I see of Lee Taeyong, the better. What’s up with that?”

“Taeyong likes to deliver his messages up close and personal,” you cautioned. “He only comes out if absolutely necessary. Getting a personal message from the big boss only happens if you’re going around wreaking havoc.”

“No warning?”

You smiled, but the sinister undertone in your voice was very evident, “If he sends anyone else but himself, that is a warning.”

You didn’t feel pressured to make your insinuations very subtle, because you were Mark’s only hope. The gangsters weren’t exactly inviting. They were very cynical, tight-lipped, and kept small circles because another one of the most important rules was confidentiality and they dreaded facing exposure.

For the most part, people who received direct messages from Taeyong didn’t make it out alive. For that reason, you did not underestimate Mark, but you were certain he had underestimated the gang. Even if you hadn’t discovered him yourself, they would have in approximately the same amount of time.

Mark showed no fear and kept the conversation light-hearted, but the glimmer in his eyes suggested he took that as a challenge. “Then, I’ll make sure to be on my best behavior.”

Liar, you scoffed. He was very much going to wreak havoc. He already had.

“You better. I’d hate to see a face like yours gone so soon,” you flirted, to which Mark grinned and cocked an intrigued brow. He was handsome, you had to give him that. Then, you decided to change the topic. “You like cars, Markie?”

He pretended to frown. “Is it obvious?”

“As far as I know, you’ve spent at least half your nights at these races. There has to be a reason,” you said, then resorted back to flirting, “Unless, you just come to look at me all night.”

“You are quite the extravaganza,” Mark played along, matching your energy. Much to your amusement. “I’m more of a bike guy, but I like anything shiny and nice.”

“We’re gonna get along just fine,” you quipped. “Wanna race?”

“For real?”

“For real,” you repeated, smiling. “They start in a little bit. You strike me as the type of guy that likes all things thrill and exhilaration.”

Mark broke into a tiny snicker. “Lucky guess. You any good?”

You shrugged. “Dunno. Guess that’s for you to figure out,” you teased. Then, began to make your escape. Granted, you knew he wouldn’t let you slip away so easily.

Mark, tantalized, trailed behind you. Hopping in a speeding car with someone as good as a stranger seemed rash, but he had a feeling that you knew what you were doing. Absolutely none of this was foreign to you.

Boy with a death wish was an apt description for Mark.

Upon your last-minute entry, you took him to the garage to pick up your ride. To say the least, Mark nearly dropped dead. The sight of your bright red Bugatti Chiron positively made him gape. “Holy shit,” he exhaled.

You giggled. “She’s hot, isn’t she?”

“Like hellfire. Aren’t these like, hella expensive?”

You bobbed your head. “She’s hell to repair. But my baby deserves the best.”

Mark continued to marvel. “Dude, you gotta let me drive one day.”

You laughed, amused, but for a completely different reason. Like hell you would let a cop take your car for a spin. It was outrageous enough that you permitted him to take the passenger seat.

Eventually you both went to line up for the races. Mark was still completely astonished, glancing around your two-seater with total awe and wonder. If you knew that you didn’t have to kill him, you would have found it very cute.

Yuta came by and stuck his head through the window aperture. Which were each rolled down as a safety measure. “You’re racing?”

“Yup,” you sang, smiling wildly. It had been a minute. And you figured that you needed some thrill in your life (unbeknownst to you, Mark was exactly that). “Meet my partner. Mark, meet this guy.”

Yuta rolled his eyes, then droned, “You two have fun.”

“Oh, trust me. Fun is guaranteed with me,” you replied with a wink.

Yuta glanced at Mark and quipped, “Run while you still can.” Then, he ran off.

“You can’t run now,” you said, making eye contact with Mark through the rear-view mirror. “We have a race to win.”

Mark grinned mischievously.

The flagger came into vision, preparing to launch the first race of the evening. You and Mark fastened your seatbelts, then you braced your hand on the steering wheel.

“Ready?” you asked, glancing to your side.

Mark bobbed his head. He seemed relatively relaxed for a first-timer. Honestly, you were beginning to wonder what all he had done in the name of the law. “Born ready.”

You revved the engine, watching the flagger count down with bated breath. Everything felt light. Adrenaline made your blood pump faster, your heart threatening to leap out your chest. This was it. That feeling that made life worth living.

Three, you muttered under your breath. Two, one. You gripped the wheel tighter. Then every nerve in your body chanted, Go, go, go!

And you slammed on the gas, bolting the car forward like lightning.

You sped like the devil. You were going nearly two-hundred miles per hour in a matter of ten seconds. The car roared underneath your fingertips and you knew you were driving a beast, one that had risen from the dead.

“Goddamn,” Mark raised his voice, speaking over the vicious winds that tousled your heads of hair. He was smiling, clinging to his seatbelt for dear life.

You shouted, “Hang on!” And you both accelerated.

You laughed, so carefree. Nothing else mattered when you were on the road and you quickly lost grip of everything that wasn’t the steering wheel clenched firmly between your fist. The road was the only thing capable of holding your attention, and you even occasionally forgot that Mark was beside you until you heard his exhilarated laugh. Every single thought you had left as quickly as it came. Moments were exactly that - moments. No fears, no worries, no nightmares. Just making it across that sweet finish line.

The feeling surging through your veins was inexplicable, but you knew that you weren’t alone in it. Mark could feel it, too. The rush overpowered any sense of threat and adrenaline made you forget what it felt like to breathe. At that moment, it was like breathing on the moon. Almost as if you didn’t need any air.

You wedged past this car and that, until you had made a great distance in front of them all. They were left in the dust.

“You feel that, Markie?” you asked, chest heaving out of pure, unadulterated fever. You could see that typical untamed gleam in his eyes, but heightened.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. And then he began to crack into a fit of hysterical laughter himself. “Yeah. I can feel it.”

The corners of your lips were in an unfaltering curve. “Let’s win this damn thing.”

Mark was grinning from ear to ear. Never had he ever felt so alive.

The climax of the race was your very favorite. Time lost its meaning and speed became inexhaustible. Air became scarce, as if there was no more left on earth. The tension throttled you and swallowed you whole. And heat reduced you to sweat and fighting breaths.

All you had was momentum, but that was of little threat to you. And Mark.

The distance between the car and the finish line decreased more and more and more. There was practically no one around you, but that didn’t ease your resolve. Resting was not an option until victory was yours.

Mark chanted, “Come on, come on.”

He wanted it as badly as you. If not more. There was nothing for him to gain out of this except experience and yet he seemed immensely content with that.

From the moment you crossed the finish line, time became a blur. All you knew was that you had won and you could feel the achievement in your veins. You only noticed that you were panting when you stepped out of the car, and the crowd flocked towards your vehicle.

“So, what do you think?” you asked Mark, sitting on the hood of your car. “Am I any good, Markie?”

Mark wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, then replied through thick breath, “I think you just gave me the time of my life. Thank you.”

You chortled. Damn right. “The pleasure is all mine.”

Someone cleared their throat and you turned to make eye contact with Lee Jeno. He looked directly at you without hiding his scorn when he spoke, “Sorry to interrupt, but Markie has to go now.”

You didn’t break eye contact with the boy, either, retorting, “Tell your dad that you don’t wanna go, Mark.”

Mark stifled a laugh. “I’m sorry, but I have to,” he said and hopped off the hood of your car. “Thank you for tonight, though. I’m holding you to your word from earlier.”

“I’ve never broken a promise,” you said. Then, you waved. “See’ya.”

Mark hugged you briefly, then bid you goodnight and faded in the crowd with his more than obvious partner.

And you went to pay yours a visit.

Given the hour, Ten was not pleased when you barged into his office, but before he could run his mouth, you shushed him with your finger.

Ten mouthed, “Did you just shush me…”

You removed an object out of your pocket and rested the item flat on his desk. It was a tiny, black wiretapping device. Clearly, somebody thought he was slick, though even in your fit of ecstasy, you were not off-guard.

From the expression he sported, Ten was highly amused by the flagrant audacity of this boy. There seemed to be a telepathic communication between you two, but just to be safe, he mouthed, “Play along.”

Ten said your name and began, “You’re late. Did you hear the news?”

You almost rolled your eyes, but very audibly pulled in the opposing chair to give the impression that you were here for a long, scheduled conversation. Then, you blew out a sigh and replied, “Yeah. Yuta told me Taeyong is considering shifting the gang to China. Damn feds too close on our tail.”

“Don’t fret. It’ll be a walk in the park. China makes up our secondary income - the ascendancy we have there is enough to start fresh.”

The little tale made you smirk. Bloodlust hadn’t branched out in China very much yet.

“I know, but Korea is the only home I’ve known,” you groaned.

Ten was very good at playing along with your bullshit and told you, “That was how I felt when I came to Korea from the States. Listen, you’re gonna be homesick as a bitch. But you won’t be alone and that’s what matters.”

If this was a genuine conversation, you would have been touched. “Thanks, Ten.”

Ten drummed his fist against the wall to mimic the sound of someone knocking on a door, then rose and said, “That must be him. Come on.”

The two of you stepped into the corridor. Where, obviously enough, nobody awaited either of you. Ten shut the door and moved a great distance away from his office before he decided you were both in the clear.

As soon as you were in private, both of you began to giggle. Ten quipped, “Sure you don’t wanna work for me?”

You snickered. “I’m more than content with Yuta, thank you.”

“I have to commend you for your performance back there,” Ten told you, sincere. “Most people wouldn’t have even caught that they were bugged. That could’ve been bad. It’s impressive.”

“Likewise,” you replied. It was in your best interest to steer Mark’s team off course, if possible. They’d learn one way or another to mind the business that paid them.

Ten grabbed a tiny stick-like item from his pocket and pressed a red button at the bottom end of the device.

You furrowed your brows. “What’s that?”

“Bug detector. Jaemin made it for me,” he told you. Then, a red light beamed from the device, and Ten scanned you from head to toe. After a brief moment, he said, “You’re in the clear. I’ll take care of the bug. Did you learn anything else tonight?”

You nodded. “He knows Taeyong is the leader. I let him ask most of the questions tonight, but I’ll have my turn later. I’m posing as a friend that’s going to show him around.”

“Take him where you want.” Ten glanced at his watch. “I expect more from you by the end of the week.”

“Yes, sir,” you replied. Obviously, he had somewhere to be. “Goodnight.”

Throughout the week, you and Ten continued to use the wiretapping bug to your advantage. Faking conversations, making up false plans about the future of the gang. It was, more or less, a taunt.

Just as Ten expected of you, you had additional information to deliver by Saturday morning. Mark was no easy task, but where his partner was concerned, you learned things easily. For one, most of your identities were definitely known. Jeno was not sparing with his disdainful glares whenever he came across high-ranks.

Much less you, for that matter. Which made you wonder exactly what role you played in this situation, but that was still inconclusive. You assumed it was because you had direct ties to the second-in-command, but you merely did his bidding. Which had nothing to do with the trafficking of illegal drugs.

And Yuta never let you in on the affairs of the gang. It simply never came up. It was none of your business and you didn’t care. As long as they protected you.

Either they had no clue what they were doing, or they were looking to make a very big bust.

The following Monday, you marched straight into housing clad in dolphin shorts and a white t-shirt and knocked on Mark’s door. Very relentlessly given it was two in the morning.

Mark yelled, “I’m coming!” from somewhere across the apartment. When he opened the door, he squinted, half-awake. But positive that he was dreaming. “How the hell…”

You snickered. “You aren’t very hard to find, Markie. This is where the newbies that don’t have their own place live - I would know. Boss gave me access to the housing info.”

“Stalker,” he snarled insincerely, voice husky. It did something to you, but you would never admit it.

Instead, you rolled your eyes. It was very ironic, all things considered. He was going out of his way to investigate you and your boss’ friends. “Yeah, yeah,” you said, inviting yourself in. “Hurry up and get ready. We’re going to the ring.”

Mark’s eyes widened. “Shit, right now?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Shit. Let me go brush my teeth and change.”

Glancing around the apartment, there was nothing immediately suspicious or out of the ordinary. Just slightly messy. It looked very lived in.

Less than fifteen minutes later, you and Mark were out the door and on the road. The late night and early morning breeze was very comforting. Just traveling lightly on the road while the sun was still down was one of your favorite things to do.

Mark spoke teasingly over the radio, “Do you barge into people’s houses and homes to go fight very often?”

Unabashedly, you giggled. “No, actually. But I am very notorious for walking around like I own the place. You’re lucky enough that I had no choice but to knock.”

“You mean, beat the door in.”

“Did not,” you countered.

“No, you did,” he said. “You probably woke up everybody else on the same floor.”

You smarted and retorted, “Please. They should come watch me kick your ass.”

Mark was very amused by your confidence. “I’m gonna make you eat those words, doll.”

“Hit me with your best shot.”

He took the challenge. “Loser buys breakfast?”

You grinned smugly. “You’re on.”

The road led you to some bar with an enormous flickering neon light that displayed the name of the establishment. Despite the late hour - and how shady the exterior of the building appeared - the parking lot wasn’t empty.

With your finger, you signaled for Mark to follow behind you and entered the bar. Much to Mark’s surprise, your attire fitted right in with the lack of crowd. Most were sweaty and gulping glasses of water at the bar.

Mark cocked a brow and said, “I thought we were going to the ring.”

“We are,” you responded, fighting a smile. The bartender didn’t spare either of you a glimpse when you led him behind the counter and through the double doors.

You were met with a tiny hallway. There was a kitchen door on one end, but you brought him towards the other. It seemed much more exclusive than the others, no double doors or easy access. You placed your finger on the biometric lock and it clicked open.

“Woah,” Mark gasped.

You giggled and went into the empty room with a ring in its center. In contrast to the others, it was dimly lit by beams of neon red lights. There was another bar at one end and chairs and tables arranged elsewhere. “The private fighting room,” you announced. “It’s only used by higher-ups and their associates.”

“I just thought of at least eight Fight Club jokes I could make right now and half of them have something to do with Tyler Durden.”

You shook your head. “You’re insufferable. You’d lose your mind if we owned a movie theater.”

Mark smiled bashfully. “Can I talk about this place?”

You glared. But ultimately couldn’t resist bursting into laughter.

“Come on,” you gestured, stepping inside the ring. And he followed suit.

After you both warmed up, you asked, “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Mark replied without hesitation, eyes burning with sheer confidence. “Gotta warn you, though - I have a blackbelt in taekwondo.”

He wasn’t lying. You remembered seeing something like that in his profile.

“Good for you. I have a blackbelt in kicking Mark Lee’s ass.”

Mark taunted, “I would like to see you try.”

You got into position, holding your arms in a prepared stance. “Don’t go easy on me, Markie. If you couldn’t tell, I like things rough.”

As usual, Mark merely gave you a grin of unadulterated mischief.

The first round played in your favor. It ran more like a practice round if anything - Mark was more focused on becoming accustomed with how you fought than winning. As a result, you knocked him clean out.

Though Mark decided in the next round that he wasn’t playing any games. He had taken mercy upon you before, going easy on you in spite of what you told him, but you knew by now that Mark had a penchant for challenges and loathed losing. You thought that you had him right where you wanted him, but by the end of the match, he had you right where he wanted you.

“I was wrong about you, Markie,” you gasped after tapping out and accepting defeat. “You striked me as a Mama’s boy. The ‘I’d never hit a girl’ type.”

“I love my mama,” Mark grinned. “And of course, I’d never. But you asked for it.”

Mark helped you to your feet and you lightheartedly threatened, “I’m snitching.”

“Whatever you say,” he taunted. “I see why they call you Scar and not Punch.”

In a flash of anger, you lunged at him, but Mark caught you by your wrist promptly. He cocked his head and said smugly, “Cheater. The final round hasn’t started yet.”

The way he stared down your soul unnerved you. It wasn’t typical of you to show fear - and you didn’t - but saying that you were unaffected by his every move would be a blatant lie. Though there was absolutely nothing sinister about Mark. Maybe it wasn’t him that you were scared of. Maybe it was how he made you feel.

That was more dangerous than any threat.

When the next round initiated, you fought like a beast that had emerged right out of hell. There was no way in hell that you would go down without a fight.

This final round was all the more intense. You were convinced that if you had any spectators, they’d be completely exasperated by the suspense. The both of you kept bouncing shy of one another.

It was akin to a seesaw of action. When Mark landed a hit, you landed one harder. When you were above, suddenly Mark knocked you back down again.

“This isn’t over until one of us taps out,” Mark said.

You shrugged. “I can go all night.”

“So can I.”

Neither of you were backing down, that much was clear. It seemed preposterous - getting worked up over an unofficial game - but you were competitive and Mark was ambitious. The most minuscule of things were still another bridge to be crossed to people like you, no matter the size.

You either won or you lost. It was one to one. This was the tiebreaker; the round that made or broke the game. You didn’t mind buying him breakfast, but there was also a part of Mark that was so goddamn insufferable and you would rather not satisfy that insatiable desire of his.

“If you want your victory, come and get it,” you taunted.

“Say less,” Mark said. Then swung.

Courtesy of your agility, you were able to move out of the way. It was better than giving him the opportunity to lay his hands on you, even if you blocked the hit. You learned very quickly that Mark could make you think he was doing one thing and wound up doing another.

You took your chances, not permitting him the chance to realize what you were up to before you danced around his figure and tackled him to the ground.

You straddled him and smirked, pinning his arms firmly above his head. You were very aware of what kind of position you were in, but you weren’t complaining. It felt like you were at your throne at the very top of the world from above Mark.

Mark eyed you down. “Someone’s been doing her homework.”

You clutched even tighter around his wrist the more he spoke. To which Mark grimaced and quipped, “Are you trying to crush my bones or jump them?”

You teased, “Is that what you were dreaming about before I woke you up, Markie?”

“Not quite,” he replied with a chuckle, then switched on a dime. He flipped you over, hovering over you as you lay flat on your back. Instead of pinning your hands above your head like you’d done to him, he went for your throat.

His grip was strong. It wasn’t tight enough to cause you any genuine harm, as if he didn’t intend to hurt you, but you felt as if he could have bruised your throat.

The worst part? You didn’t thoroughly despise the feeling.

Mark leaned directly into your ear, then growled, “Tap out and I’ll let go.”

Resisting, you brought your fingers to his arm, though you swore his grip became firmer the longer you stood your ground. Mark merely stared into your eyes as you began to gasp for air, holding onto breath for dear life.

The way he looked into them, it was almost as if he was searching for something. You supposed Mark wallowed in the look of vulnerability in your eyes, or the life leaving them, but it couldn’t have been as prominent as the bliss etched onto your face. “You’re enjoying this,” he remarked, showing even less mercy with his palms.

When you were on the verge of unconsciousness, you tapped Mark’s arm with your fingers. And only then did his grip loosen.

Mark shook his head when you began to laugh. “You’re fucking crazy.”

Chest heaving, you replied, “I’ve heard that one before. Try harder.”

“You’re a fucking minx,” Mark taunted, voice dropping another octave. “But you know that too - don’t you?”

A provocative smile crept across your face. “I swear I don’t do it on purpose, Markie.”

There was a whirlwind of thoughts rippling around your brain as Mark leaned dangerously close to you. Heat flared through your body in place of your typical cold blood. You seemed to internally debate yourself, but it wasn’t as if you ever had very much of a conscience.

“Do it, Mark. Do it,” you chanted. From the pensive expression he sported, you were confident that half the thoughts in his head were temptingly screaming the same thing.

Mark steered out of his tiny reverie and began, “That guy - Yuta. He’s not your boyfriend?”

You burst into laughter that was on the brink of hysterical. “You’re kidding,” you said. But when Mark showed you no sign of toying, instead stern, you added, “Please. I love Yuta and I’m forever indebted to him, but I’d rather choke on my own blood than date him.”

That was all Mark needed to hear. “Say less.”

In the time that it took for him to close the tiny gap between the two of you, the last of Mark’s reluctance met its end. His mouth crashed against yours in haste, and you moved in a heated sync, swallowing each other’s tongues.

The taste of him drowned out the rest of the world. You forgot that Mark was a predator and you were his prey. You forgot that you were supposed to hunt him down. Each of your limbs tensed tautly with want and your will for pleasure made light work of your senses. You were enthralled by how well of a kisser he was.

Someone you used to know once told you that sex was a tool, love was a poison; combining the two was a one-way ticket to death. All of which slipped your mind completely as you involuntarily began to rasp your hips against his.

Mark grunted so lowly that you were at the brink of succumbing to insanity right then and there.

It was like Mark existed solely to tease the living hell out of you. Being a thorn in your side was what he thrived on. He kept slithering his hand up your thigh, just shy of where you needed him, and you did not miss the smug little grin on his face when you groaned in complaint.

You pulled away from his lips and warned, “Don’t tease me.”

Predictably, Mark was not alarmed. Your threats were of little substance to him. “Dunno, doll. It’s kinda fun to watch you get all worked up.”

Deciding to take matters into your own hands, you grabbed Mark’s wrist and slipped it down your shorts. You made a tiny noise when his fingers brushed over your clothed cunt, then purred, “Feel that, baby? Could be all yours if you stopped playing games.”

And with that, Mark was sold.

The both of you ran suspiciously out of the bar. You willed yourselves not to touch each other in front of anyone’s prying eyes, but the way you rushed out said enough.

You decided on going to Mark’s place. There was nothing to hide at yours because you refused to bring work home with you, but your address was sensitive information. Sleeping with someone never prevented them from betraying you and nor did it invoke an unbendable bond to be broken in the first place.

But the moment you stepped inside Mark’s apartment, it was game over. You couldn’t stay away from one another, stumbling over his belongings as you made out while stripping along the way to his bedroom and leaving a trail of clothes in your wake.

You wondered exactly how long this desire had been pent up. Maybe you suppressed it out of priority for your jobs, but it had expanded into something unignorable now. The tiny sparks became a full-fledged forest fire.

Mark pushed your naked figure against his mattress and gave your now-naked body a once-over. “I never realized how many tattoos you have,” he rasped. 

There was also a huge scar on your stomach. He had caught glimpses of it during your fight, but the full sight made him curious. Alas, now wasn’t the time to ask questions. 

“Mm,” you hummed, stifling a giggle. “If you do a good enough job, I might tell you the stories behind them.”

“Then, I hope you’re ready to talk,” he said confidently.

You arched a brow. “You talk a big game, but aren’t showing me what you’re made of.”

Mark gripped your thighs apart and at the sight of your dripping cunt, he growled, “Just watch. You’re going to be a mess by the time I’m done with you.”

Before you could offer another retort, Mark pushed his head between your legs and began to have at it.

A little sigh eased past your throat when you felt his tongue lap at your folds. His mouth was warm against the flesh, heat spreading in waves throughout your body and core. You willed yourself to keep your reactions to a minimum, not wanting to give Mark the satisfaction of seeing you at your very worst.

Eyeing him from the bed, you basked in the sight of him devouring you like a five-star meal. Your arms were propped by his pillows very comfortably. You watched him swallow you whole, his veins becoming taut as his grip on your upper legs became ruthless and his wavy red hair tickled your plush thighs.

You were in heaven, needlessly to say. Mark sucked at you without a shred of mercy. No matter how much you liked a boy, you never tended to keep your expectations as high as your standards when it came to bedroom performance and going down on you, but Mark was full of surprises. True to his word, you were somewhat certain that at this rate, you would be a mess by the time that he was finished with you.

“Fuck,” you mewled when he started to lick and suck at your clit.

Mark smirked against your folds. He was going to be the death of you.

Each of your attempts to remain quiet were defiled by your more than loud moans, though you couldn’t bring yourself to be bothered. It was as if Mark knew exactly how to push your buttons (and which buttons to press).

Meanwhile, Mark’s mind was ablaze with thoughts of you. The sight of your body would be indefinitely etched behind his eyelids. Your intricate tattoos that told various tales across your perfect skin, and your plush thighs that tensed whenever he brushed your clit.

You could feel your pulse throbbing in your core. Your thighs trembled, your hips involuntarily moving against Mark’s mouth to derive as much pleasure as possible. It seemed desperate, but you were reduced to fire and bones in no time at all. All you knew how to do was ravage everything in your course to feed your flame. And Mark was hellbent on ravaging you.

You clutched Mark’s hair and cried out, “Mark.”

He seemed to rejoice in how utterly responsive  and reactive you’d become, unable to defy your body’s demanding urges. It was impossible. And your reactions only fed him, spurring him on to milk you completely dry.

You swore you felt nothing but sheer thrill. It was comparable to the high you received from racing. The way nothing else mattered, and all your focus was so centered on one particular thing that you couldn’t think of anything else. You were enticed by danger and entrusting Mark with power over your body was a great enough threat.

Mark was way too attracted to everything about you. Tasting you and watching you lose your grip of control on his tongue only amplified that allure with the addition of arousal. To hell with his job if it meant that he could spend one more moment with you in his mouth.

Maybe he was attracted to danger, too. You and danger tended to go hand in hand, but so did danger and his lifestyle. There was a reason why he wasn’t afraid of you.

“Just like that, baby. Oh my god,” you moaned, angling your head back. For the sake of your pride, you tried to desperately cling to whatever remained of your sanity, but Mark was resolved on unraveling you.

Your sounds became louder and Mark discerned that you were on the verge of release. If you hadn’t awakened his neighbors when you gave his door hell earlier, they were certainly now contemplating filing noise complaints.

Mark separated himself from you ever so briefly and growled, “Come on, doll. Do it for me.”

The little pet name never invoked much thought from you. You assumed he wanted compensation for the nickname you’d dropped on him, and thus let it slide. But in that moment, it made you weak - and you loathed pet names.

This was going to bring it home. Every nerve in your body was tense and uptight. Your fingers and toes tingled with the threat of release, heat spasming in your core and the palms of your hands.

You climaxed in a fit of unadulterated pleasure, tightening your grip on Mark’s red locks and convulsing by reflex. You practically curled in on yourself, every bit of you clenching emptily as fervor shot through your body. Mark didn’t grant you the mercy of letting you ease through your climax, unrelenting as he continued to suck and lick at your pussy ruthlessly.

Mark brought you to a second orgasm in half the amount of time it took to achieve the first one, and only then did he crawl away and let you breathe. You heaved shallow breaths, blinking through the rise and fall of your chest. Never had you felt anything so intensely. You were milked completely dry.

Mark didn’t comment, but his words were heavy through the signature glimmer in his eyes. And smile tugging the corners of his lips. “So, am I getting that bedtime story?”

You replied through heavy breaths, “Take your pick.”

He snickered.

Mark licked his lips and thus your arousal from his mouth. You shot up and straddled him, wasting little time in sucking at his neck. Mark shook his head. “Jesus, woman. Do you rest?”

Stifling a laugh, you purred, “I regenerate quickly.”

That didn’t surprise Mark in the slightest. He could have guessed. “Good to know.”

Pressing kisses to his neck, you began to rock against his hips, feeling his hard cock through the confines of his underwear. You anchored yourself on his shoulders and teased, “Shouldn’t we do something about this problem of yours?”

Mark angled his head back. “Fuck, yeah,” he groaned.

You pushed his chest down in a successful attempt to knock him backwards and his back met the mattress. But the kisses never ended, and you found it nearly impossible to tear yourself from his skin. Until you felt him involuntarily thrust against your hips, needy.

“Patience,” you sang. Granted, you didn’t have much of your own, either. The way he brought you to another world and back only moments ago had you desperate to recreate the feeling. 

You lifted your purse off of the nightstand not too out of reach from you and retrieved a condom. For good reason, you figured Mark wouldn’t have any.

Mark cocked a brow. “You keep those on you?”

Of course, you did. You preferred to be safe over sorry. Not to mention that your hookup who shall not be named tended to forget them. Deliberately. You subconsciously smirked. “Mind the business that pays you,” you murmured, dragging his underwear down his ankles. And fitting the condom over the head of his cock.

You and Mark let out a simultaneous noise of bliss as you rolled onto him. His hands found purchase at your hips while yours pressed featherly against his stomach. You took him inch by inch, leisurely making your way down as your cunt opted to easily swallow him whole.

Mark nearly lost his mind being engulfed by your heat. His fingertips dug almost painfully into your waist for mental anchor, supporting himself with all his might. For goodness sake, you were so tight. It didn’t help that you still leaked with arousal from your previous two orgasms, even more sensitive from them. The moment you were snug around his cock, he felt you clench.

“Mm, Mark,” you moaned, rocking against him at your own pace. You took the lead, following your own rhythm and Mark didn’t have it in him to stop you. Hell, not that he wanted to.

This was, for lack of a better word, a very bad idea. But neither of you seemed to care. It felt forbidden - doing as much as even thinking about each other so lecherously, but that was half the fun. Neither of you could restrain the lascivious thoughts that ran rampant through your minds when you caught a glimpse of your naked bodies or heard a lewd noise.

The other half, of course, was the actual fucking.

And when Mark heard you call out his name, it took all his willpower to not finish himself right then and there. Not Markie - Mark. He steered dangerously close to release at the mere sound of your honey-like voice.

Mark found it in himself to tease, “Enjoying yourself up there?”

“Like a queen on her throne,” you retorted.

He certainly made you feel like royalty, that was for sure. You felt worshiped by his tongue. Now, you were at reign over his body. And all Mark could do was lie there and behold you as if you were a royal immortal deity.

There was a moment that passed where he considered throwing it all away for you without a second thought. You were a lethal weapon of temptation; that Mark knew, yet he was disposed to capitulate to you. As if you’d lulled him into a fatal trance with the very grace of your body alone.

Though your every move was unpredictable, Mark didn’t know what to expect when you leaned closely to his neck. But it certainly wasn’t for you to bite at the skin. He let out an embarrassing whine at the feeling of your teeth leaving marks and tiny remnants of you on his throat.

You arched a brow. Then, teased, “Whine for me again, Mark.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled.

Your lips brushed ever so gently against his and you tauntingly whispered, “Make. Me.”

As aforementioned, Mark was comprised of surprises. His hands rose from your waist to your bouncing tits and he thrusted up, achieving a whimper of surprise from you.

He smirked at the way your face tensed with pleasure and your fingers grasped his biceps for dear life. “Holy fuck,” you cried, clinging to him as if you’d sink into the pits of the earth otherwise. He kept fucking you from below, watching you intently as he admired his handiwork with complacency.

He sneered, “Whine for me again, doll.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you hissed.

Mark snickered. Now where had he heard that before?

The softest of moans parted your lips as Mark fondled with your breast and his hands eventually rose, fingers clawing around your throat. He missed seeing that look in your eyes. The one of air depleting itself from your lungs and the blood circulation ceasing to flow and the pleasure sparkling a tiny gleam.

You satisfied his urges, face blanching the longer he held his grip. And the tighter. Mark very much could have done as he pleased with you, but you knew he’d never let this go too far. Just enough to have you at the verge of blacking out.

Although you were remotely dizzy when he released you from his clutch, you liked it. You never quite noticed it before, but there was a fiery gleam in Mark’s eyes when he choked you. Something sinister. There was an animal in him that had gone dormant for far too long and you’d finally aroused the beast.

And you were the only one to date that had seen it and didn’t flee.

The two of you were dangerously close to climax. With how close in proximity your bodies were - combined by every thrust and grind - there was no way on earth either of you couldn’t tell. You began to rasp your hips against his cock in a vigorously synchronized motion, desperate for the heat of the friction that made you tingle. Piece by piece, you were breaking into rupture.

Mark was no better. Just looking at you had him dangling over the edge. Dangerously. It would only take one little slip before he fell depthlessly into a pit of you that seemingly had no top and no bottom. Just you, only you.

“Let go for me, doll,” Mark ordered softly, trying to coax you into an orgasm. “You’ve been doing so good for me.”

His mouth and hands knew no boundaries when it came to your body. They roamed you, his tongue slithering around your nipple and his hands roughly finding purchase on your ass. You were also very sensitive in areas where your tattoos lived, he learned, and used that knowledge to his advantage. Mark was single-handedly going to destroy you.

“Let go,” he sang again, gentle and tempting.

You began to tighten around him involuntarily. It was coming. “I’m…”

Mark held you firmly. “Cum for me, baby. I’ve got you.”

You saw stars when you came for the third time, orgasm hitting you in full force. It was nothing short of intense. You clamped around Mark, walls tight around him as well as your grip on his biceps. Your thighs shuddered with climax, and a shrill cry erupted from your lips. 

Mark grunted, “Fuck.” The feeling of you pulsing around him undoubtedly sent him down a similar fate. His hands fell to your hips and held them to the point of bruising.

After you rode out the rest of your high, you slacked. You lied against his warm chest, feeling him breathe rapidly as you desperately clung to your own breath.

“Do you feel okay?”

“I feel great,” you heaved. “Do you wanna stop?”

Mark faintly smiled at how much endurance you had. “Nope.”

You rode Mark until sunrise.

When both of you roused again, the clock had already ticked past noon. You made room for another, much lazier round, and settled for brunch instead of breakfast.

Then you split and went your own separate ways. You waltzed straight into Bloodlust’s headquarters. Given you were channeling all of your focus into this Mark mission, your schedule was indefinitely clear of all else. Which left you with leeway to choose someone to vex.

You stepped into Yuta’s office without knocking, yet before you could get a word out, he barked, “Did you come here to tell me that you’re sleeping with the enemy?”

Blinking, you resisted a frown. And said nonchalantly, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Lying to a high-rank. Wrong move. And also impossible to get away with.

Yuta shook his head, scowling. “Jisung said that he saw you both running out of The Lion’s Den. Disorderly. And something told him it wasn’t because of a fight.”

Park Jisung, when I get my hands on you, you bristled inwardly. You never did get along with that boy. On more than one occasion, you had to be separated so that you wouldn’t kill each other.

You rolled your eyes and sat across from your boss. With light humor, you replied, “Please. If anything, I have Mark right where I want him.”

“Don’t walk into a trap,” Yuta warned.

Traps were laid by people like you, not the opposite. You were many things and stupid was not one of them. Just another casualty, you told yourself. That’s all Mark was. You refused to allow him to become anything more. “If you’re done, I have something. Mark thought that I was your girlfriend - what if that’s the connection? He’s using me to get to you.”

“That’s possible,” Yuta sobered. “But he would have to know that you wouldn’t snitch on your lover. I’d kill both you and him with my bare hands.”

“Terrifying,” you deadpanned. “Has Ten or Jaemin been able to get in?”

Yuta gave a shake of his head and drawled, “Nope. They’ve got that unit on lock. Apparently drugs are super sensitive information.”

Blowing out a breath, you turned pensive. They were hiding something, obviously. You were half-tempted to march up to Mark and demand he tell you everything he knew, but it was too risky of a move. Though it wasn’t like he had gotten many leads through you, and there had to be something keeping him joined at your hip.

But what?

At first, you considered that maybe you’d given away more than you realized, yet nothing you told him was incriminating enough to arrest anyone with a drug trafficking charge. Hell, if that was the case, Jisung would have led you all to demise already.

“I can hear your gears turning. Stop thinking,” Yuta quipped, steering you out of your reverie. He could never stay mad at you - or serious - for very long. “Listen, babe. Just keep him at bay. If we make no progress, we’ll bring out the extremes. Everything will be perfectly fine.”

You nodded. “Perfectly fine,” you repeated.

Everything was not perfectly fline.

During the past couple of weeks, things had taken a sharp turn between you and Mark. You intended to leave him for dead after that first hookup, yet the more time you spent together, the more each of you burned with lust.

And so it happened again. And again. And you lost track of how many times you’d slipped away to fuck Mark and suck on his tongue.

Of course, the quality of the sex never declined. You were both pleased and enraged at the fact that Mark had range. Every time you both hooked up, the only thing that stayed consistent was the want that shot through your core. For fuck’s sake, he just had to be a man of variety.

In a nutshell, you were completely fucked.

There was an event at the gang’s casino and you snagged Mark as your date. As if anyone else would risk it. You were the only one crazy enough to personally involve yourself with a cop.

Which, you tried to erase from your memory. There would come a day where he’d try to send you away in cuffs. And you’d have to kill him before he got the chance.

You shivered at the thought.

“You clean up nice,” you commented when you came to pick him up.

Mark was dressed very pleasantly. The red hair was a stark contrast to the fancy black suit and trousers he sported, though given the semi formal occasion, he abandoned the frivolous style and opted for a neater hairdo. You were approximately three seconds away from forgetting about the goddamn casino altogether.

Similarly, you wore a red gown that flowed down your legs, hair styled elegantly and your face beat. Casinos were very much not your scene, and underneath the dress you kept an armed and poised gun resting ungrudgingly inside of the leather holster at your thigh.

“Thank you, m’lady. You’re very beautiful,” Mark replied, taking hold of your fingers and kissing the back of your hand gently.

You grinned. Then began to snicker when you noticed your heels gave you a couple more inches of height on him.

Mark cocked a brow. “What’cha laughing at?”

“Oh, nothing.”

Obviously, Mark didn’t believe you in the slightest. Though he said nothing, instead leading you to the elevator. “I’m driving,” he told you, leaving absolutely no room for argument.

You furrowed your brows when you saw your keys in his palm. “When the hell did you get those?”

Mark grinned smugly and jiggled the keys. “You should pay more attention.”

You were absolutely affronted. There was no way in hell Mark Lee had caught you off-guard. You folded your arms across your chest and Mark snickered, then pressed a little kiss to your neck to placate you.

As you slipped out of the elevator and into the lobby, you quipped, “Make sure to drive the speed limit and not the speedometer limit.”

Mark opened the door for you, yet retaliated, “You’d know a lot about driving over the speed limit, wouldn’t you?”

“Shush,” you mumbled, fighting a smile.

“I believe the correct answer is ‘Thank you, gentleman.’”

You hardly leaned off of your heels when you swayed towards Mark, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips and purring, “Thank you, gentleman.”

Mark clamped his arm around your waist and said, “Much better.”

There was a grand casino connected to the hotel that the gang owned. They never invested in anything unprofitable. The building was sky-scraping and vivid in the dimming indigo night, its gold exterior oriented to attract the attention of men and women of means. Courtesy of the supplementing hotel, it had valet parking.

As expected, the sight was nothing short of breathtaking. A large glimmering chandelier hung at the front entrance. There were even tinier ones the further you voyaged across the long red carpet, hanging on the sunken ceiling. You were surrounded by tall pillars and arrays of staircases and even the air felt different inside the casino. It was more or less a very marvelous labyrinth of money.

Mark whistled. “Snazzy. You know what this reminds me of?”

“What?”

“Vegas, baby. Vegas!”

You narrowed your eyes. You didn’t want to know what his Letterboxd account looked like. Or introduce him to one, for that matter. Leaning into his chest, you asked, “Ever been?”

“Once. It’s very beautiful.” Just like you, he was tempted to add, but he didn’t want to come off cheesy. “I should take you there one day.”

Mark was a little too good at toying with your heart for your liking. Both of you knew very well that a future with you together did not exist.

And yet your mind blinked with images of you and Mark in Las Vegas. Him showing you around the sin city. Wandering the streets in each other’s arms, laughing and marveling at its beauty with heartfelt awe. You saw his dumb face and his stupid smile and knew that you were over. 

After a bit of walking, the two of you finally found yourselves amongst the rest of the gang. The occasion was nothing special; for the most part, they were discussing deals with other groups and further things you didn’t get paid enough to be concerned about. You saw Qian Kun and knew to make a run for it. He saw everything from a business perspective, which was great for the gang - and your paycheck - but agonizingly boring.

And then, you ran into Park Jisung and instantly knew that you should have stayed home.

Sternly, you greeted, “Jisung.”

“You,” Jisung icily greeted, less than pleased to see you.

“I have a name, you know,” you reminded with a scowl.

Jisung didn’t hesitate and shot, “And I’d rather not stain my tongue by saying it.”

“You son of a…”

Mark growled in your ear, “Behave.”

Jisung raised his brow when you switched on a dime and rather quickly composed yourself. Where was this guy when he was having a heated quarrel with you for the umpteenth time? Shutting you up on command? He doubted even Yuta had that kind of power over you.

Worst of all, he didn’t know if that was a blessing or a curse.

“I have to speak with her,” Jisung said, refusing to say your name. Then added, “Alone.”

Mark angled towards you. “Will you be okay?”

Absolutely not. The last time you had a one on one conversation with Jisung, one of you nearly died. It was certainly not a great idea to leave you alone together.

But something told you to nod.

Mark, skeptical, pressed, “You’re going to be good, right?”

“Very classy,” you retorted, despite wanting to be literally anywhere else. You hoped whatever Jisung had to say was of significant value. For him to willingly speak to you, it had to be life-threatening. “I’m going to have a civil conversation with my peer like the two adults that we are.”

“Okay,” Mark replied with scrunched brows, still hesitant. “I’ll be over there with Jeno.”

Throwing both you and your less than lovely coworker another glance, Mark parted and left you to fend for yourself.

As soon as Mark was a safe distance away, Jisung immediately said, “I wouldn’t trust him if I were you.”

Your face immediately puzzled. “What makes you think I trust him?”

Jisung laughed in your face. “Are you for real? For one, you’re fucking. Don’t deny it because I saw you running out of The Lion’s Den, and I know what people who eagerly want to fuck each other look like. I see the way you look at him.”

“Are you worried about me, Jisung?” you quipped. You refused to pay any heed to what he was insinuating. Let alone accept it.

Jisung scoffed, “No. I’m worried about you jeopardizing the future of this gang.”

“That’s rich,” you said, crossing your arms. And trying to identify the cleanest way to insult him. “It wouldn’t be a singlehanded error. You’re literally incriminating us by having him under the drug branch in the first place. You guys let two cops in and didn’t even notice. The only words I should be hearing from you are ‘thank you.’”

“Stop. You’re deflecting, as usual,” he sighed. “Just like the brat mouth you are.”

Instead of giving him a seething response, you gritted your teeth. And bit your tongue. Literally. At some point, you decided he was no longer worth your wasted breath.

Which Jisung noticed and added, “See? I can tell he has a heavy grip on you. This is the first time you’ve ever held your tongue talking to me.”

You had an argument ready to fire, but stopped dead in your tracks when you realized that he was right. Why hadn’t you told Jisung off in vulgar terms yet?

No. It didn’t mean a thing. There was absolutely nothing to it other than you coming to your senses and realizing that bickering with Jisung was - and always had been - utterly pointless. He was obstinate and even after hours of debate, you wouldn’t be anywhere much further than where you started.

Never had you answered to anyone. In spite of working for other people, they knew that you marched to beat of your own drum. There were some traits of yours that were nonnegotiable and they’d either have to accept it or cut you loose.

Ever since you were an infant, you’d carried a reputation. Hell, maybe even before then. You had been called many things in such a short lifetime and an untamable lost cause was likely the least hurtful of them all. Nobody ever believed that anyone as wild as you could be salvaged from the destruction you’d inflicted upon yourself. And hence you began to believe it yourself.

This was the only life that you’d known. It was one where you had no option but to fend for yourself and isolate yourself from the world out of self-preservation. How the hell were you supposed to know how to react to someone sneaking their way inside and making you see life through a different lense?

You had seen so much in your years that you falsely believed that you were numb to fear. But you had never been so scared of something before; change.

You forced yourself to say, “Have a good night, Jisung.” And made a beeline for Mark. The walls of the enormous building were suddenly beginning to close in on you and you felt as if there was no air in a room full of space.

“I need a breather,” you said to Mark, interrupting his conversation.

Mark gave Jeno a glance, then took your fingers in his and asked, “Where to?”

“The rooftop,” you replied lightly, feeling drained and you’d only just got here.

The two of you stopped by the bar and downed a glass of hard liquor before you made your way to the rooftop. There was an elevator with calming music that brought you to the very top of the building.

You decided that you preferred the rooftop as soon as you stepped onto the terrace. It was lit by purple neon lights and void of people, and the air felt fresh and inhalable. Like a breath of fresh air. There were sofas with tiny tables crammed in between scattered about the floor and even further were glass railings that overlooked the entire shining city.

Even at night, the city was never dead, busy with bustling roads and brightly lit structures. You were certain that that was when it came to life.

Mark embraced you in a back hug and you swore time slowed down. But did your heart always beat this fast when he touched you?

“Talk to me,” Mark exhaled, breathing tickling the back of your neck.

You let his touch warm you. It was a great contrast against the chill breeze that swept over the roof at this elevation. “About what?”

“Anything. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

I like you, you said to yourself. And I’m scared because I don’t know what to do.

You shook your head. “How about I kiss you instead?”

“You could have just said that you want to kiss me,” Mark murmured.

Lightheartedly, you admitted, “I want to kiss you so bad, Mark Lee.”

Mark laughed and whirled you around, pinning you against the nearby wall and meeting his lips to yours. It all happened so fast - just like everything else between you two. Everything lasted both for a second and in perpetuity. 

He kissed you until you were stripped bare and empty of every last thought. It felt like magic. How he gained the remedy to instantly put you at ease was a mystery, but you didn’t wonder. You just kept sipping from his poison and inhaling the toxins. There was no hope for you anymore. Mark was withering you away and you were simply letting him.

This was wrong on so many levels and yet you never let that stop you. There were no boundaries.  You both took what you wanted and you took what you needed without giving any fucks about who didn’t like it. Desperately did you want to believe that nothing would come between you two.

You bit Mark’s lip and he groaned, nails digging into your waist. Which then prompted a tiny noise to part from your own lips. You were a parallel set of actions. It was strange; you didn’t fight for superiority, you fought to be even and equal.

There was something different in the kiss after you bit Mark. As if he’d been injected with an animalistic venom. The tempo increased and you fought to keep up with his every move, moaning into his lips as his tongue let loose inside of your mouth. His grip got even tighter, as if he was holding you to keep you to himself and himself only. There was no where else that you would run. As ironic as it was, you felt safest in Mark’s arms. He was the haven you never had.

Then, you heard a noise. You discerned that Mark heard it too, because he pulled away instantly and caged you behind him defensively. And your heart warmed at the gesture, though you needed no savior.

You sighed and pulled your gun from your holster, calling out, “You’ve got until the count of five to come out because if I have to find you my goddamn self, I’ll blow your brains. One. Two. Three…,”

At the third count, Jeno emerged from behind one of the chairs, gun drawn.

You began to snicker and waved him off. “Oh, put that damn thing down. Hit the road, Jack. And don’t let me catch you again.”

Jeno begrudgingly made a move for the door, not failing to cast you an ugly glare before his glance shifted to Mark, who started at his partner bemusedly. He left without a word.

You glanced up at Mark. “Why was your friend spying on us?”

“I was wondering the same thing,” Mark said, tone full of genuine perplexity.

You furrowed your brows. If Jeno was spying on you and Mark without either of your knowledge, what did that mean?

Maybe he didn’t know what was happening between you and Mark.

With a shake of your head, you grabbed Mark’s hand and led him to the glass railing. And he followed you like a moth to light. You propped your arms against the cool glass and called out, “Mark.”

“Hm?” came Mark’s response from right beside you.

You reluctantly tasted the words on your tongue before you asked, “What was your childhood like?”

“I was born under a bridge,” Mark deadpanned. To  which you snorted and nudged his side. “But nah. I didn’t have much growing up. My mom got hooked on drugs real bad and she couldn’t take care of me and my brothers, so we moved in with our aunt. She did the best she could to make ends meet, but you know how that shit works. Whole time, my cousin was on the streets. Made a gang. I followed in his footsteps close enough.”

“What happened for you to wind up here?” you asked, listening with interest.

Mark’s face was impassive. “He’d kill me if he saw me right now.”

As vague as that answer was, you understood perfectly.

There was irony in his story. He was a gang member, then became a cop? Though you were aware that he could have legally lied to you as much as he so pleased, you believed that he was sincere. You learned by now that Mark’s eyes said more than his words ever could.

“What about you?” Mark asked. He wasn’t looking at you, eyes trained to the big city before him, but you knew his ears were ready. “How’d you get here?”

“Fasten your seatbelt,” you joked. Mark had already heard bits and pieces of your life via the stories of some of your tattoos, but this was full screen. “I think I’ve been a demon from hell before I even walked the earth. According to what I’ve heard, my family was against my mother having me. There was a huge stigma that came with having a baby at a young age and without a present father figure. She died during the delivery.”

“I’m sorry,” Mark said sullenly.

You shook your head and continued, “Water under the bridge. It doesn’t get better. I’ve been called a killer since the day I was born. It only made sense that I became one. They said that’s all I was, so I ran and turned to the streets and found a new home. I was in and out of gangs and had several sketchy jobs.”

Mark bobbed his head, listening intently.

“There was one gang I thought I would last in. The one I was in before I joined Bloodlust. I even dated one of the members, but he got violent on me one day. I killed him out of self defense. And I got scared, because I knew I couldn’t come back to the gang after that. The leader would kill me.”

“Is that when you joined Bloodlust?”

You bobbed your head. “Remember when I told you that I’m forever indebted to Yuta? That’s because he saved my life. Took me under his wing and gave me another job and somewhere safe to stay. That’s why we’re so close.”

“Jesus Christ,” Mark said, taking it all in. “You’ve been through hell and back.”

“You’re telling me,” you groaned.

Peace was not a word of any value to you. You’d never known what it felt like. The only thing you knew was survival. It was kill or be killed; hunt or be hunted. Life, in your definition, was a series of bad options and choosing the one that was the least loathsome.

After all, you did what you could to live another day. It was never easy, but you learned everything you knew about survival through those everyday choices. You fought for your life every goddamn day and knew nothing different.

It was a battle of strength that required all of your willpower to not succumb.

You blinked when Mark pulled you into a hug. He enjoyed talking to you. Life as either of you’d known it was a bitch, but getting to know you and all you’d been through brought you closer. And all he wanted to do was hold you underneath the moonlight and ease the pain of your scars.

For the most part, the inner circle knew your history, though not from an emotional perspective. The only people you’d ever given an emotional account to were Yuta and now Mark. Yuta was firm on assuring you that yesterday would no longer matter if you worked for him, but Mark made you feel less alone.

Mark was clawing you out of your armor and defenses. You were stripped bare and vulnerable. There was still so much left unseen and for you to explore in this life.

The two of you chatted the night away below the depthlessly starry sky and above the bustling city. You talked about everything under the sun and moon while being sure to share a kiss or two in between. It made you realize that in such a large world, you and Mark were simply two people with a story to share.

But as the time ticked away, the kisses became more frequent and more passionate. You became less interested in the casino and more enamored with Mark. Somewhere along the line your self-restraint snapped into two, and you found yourselves calling it a night and reserving a room at the hotel.

It wasn’t any less lavish than the casino. Especially not the suite you booked. There was a hot tub in the room and a balcony extended out the side with yet another picturesque view of the city.

Plus, it was a one-bedroom with a single bed.

Mark sat at the edge of the mattress and you wasted no time in straddling his lap and meeting your lips to his. It felt like an adventure. The wild and reckless and lethal type.

You could savor him on you even after. And it was the burning longing to taste Mark again that ultimately brought you three steps forwards and two steps back.

Mark pulled away, guilt-ridden, and reminded, “I’m a cop.”

He didn’t know how he expected you to respond, but you didn’t flinch. Like you already knew and you couldn’t care less. You offhandedly replied, “I know,” and endeavored to kiss him again.

Mark held you in place. His expression turned stern and you blew out an exasperated sigh. You were lightyears away from being ready to have this conversation. “So, you’re sleeping with the enemy.”

“I know. But so are you.”

“I know,” Mark said. Lord, did he know.

“Then,” you began, moving for his neck instead and uttering your words in between tiny pecks and nibbles. “We have nothing to talk about.”

Mark angled your bodies and pinned you down - as if that would stop you - and countered, “We have a lot to talk about.”

Frustrated, you incredulously groaned, “You want to talk about how I’m gonna have to put a round of bullets in your brain in the near future while I’m trying to fuck you?”

Mark scoffed, “You mean, I’m gonna have to hand you in cuffs to the police.”

“I’d like to see you try,” you taunted. It would have been in your best interest to be very careful about what you wished for, though you knew Mark would never. You refused to believe that.

Mark shook his head, laughing. As if he’d read your mind and wholeheartedly agreed that the thought was absurd. “You know I’m crazy about you, right?”

“Prove it.”

Mark leaned down to kiss you for a half of a second, then whispered in your ear, “I will.”

Then, he switched on a dime, and all of the heat and passion of his desire overcame him again.

You were fucking with a Leo; you should have known that you were in for the most wild ride of your life.

Void of patience, Mark clawed at your clothes roughly. You had the whole night, but he stripped you away as if you had only minutes to spare. The whole time, your lips locked in an impassioned kiss as you tried intensely to keep up with the other’s rhythm.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Mark growled. He spoke his mind. It was the first thing he thought every time he laid eyes on you.

The tone of his voice had you seeping with arousal, and to hide your desperation, you flirted, “Fuck me then, handsome.”

Mark grunted. He couldn’t wait anymore. “Do you have a condom?”

“Yes, but I have an IUD,” you added, hoping he’d catch your drift.

Mark blinked in realization. “Fuck. You want me to…”

“Yes,” you groaned, growing more impatient by the minute. “You’re clean, right?”

“Squeaky.”

“Then, hurry up.”

So much for not seeming desperate.

Mark shed his remaining layers of clothing and you licked your lips at the sight of his cock standing at full height against his stomach. Making out with you always got him hard like nothing else on this planet.

You eyed his movements with anticipation. Your body was burning for him to fill the void that he’d created. Like you weren’t complete until he was buried deeply inside you.

Your heart sped as he neared your hole. Mark was nothing if not a tease. He damped himself in your arousal and only pushed in when he heard you whimper, smiling smugly to himself. The first thrust was agonizingly slow. Mark took his sweet time to fit his cock into you, watching your face twist and your breath slow as you took him inch by inch.

There was something about the first thrust that was inexplicably magical to you. Being filled to the hilt with thick heat for the very first time. You held your breath every time.

Then, Mark pulled back out altogether and on cue, you let out an immediate noise of displeasure. “Mark…”

The man in question was firm on reducing you to ash and bones. “Beg,” he growled, leaning low into your ear.

You laughed. As if to tell him he sounded insane. “I don’t beg.”

Mark didn’t blink when he told you, “You do today.” His face was void of all humor and he glanced at you expectantly. He dragged his length on top of your pussy, steering just shy of where you needed him. And it was very intentional.

God, did you try to resist, but Mark had grown familiar with your weaknesses in such a short span of time. Every bone in your body ached for him to fill you. To make you complete once more. It begged to be unabridged and tell him your body’s every secret story. And your pride was a fair compensation.

You stifled a groan and said faintly, “Please.”

“C’mon, doll. You can do better than that,” Mark chided playfully, evidently dissatisfied.

You exhaled a sigh and inhaled your pride. “Please, fuck me, Mark. I can’t wait anymore. I need you.”

Mark teased, “Now, was that so hard?” And before you could provide any commentary, he was burying himself inside you yet again.

It wasn’t very long before you were content again. You let out a sigh of relief when Mark filled you once more, and another when he thrusted out and pushed back inside. His rough hands gripped your hips and he watched the way your cunt swallowed him whole, as if you simply couldn’t get enough of him.

Fuck, you felt like heaven. The way you clamped around him - warm and wet and tight - always set off something animalistic inside of him, but bareback? There was no way in hell he would last.

Mark was only slow to tease you. The moment he exhausted his self-control, he set an uptempo pace. He eyed you like a preying hawk, thinking about how beautiful you were. It was an unshakable thought; you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Eagerly taking his cock like you were made for it or not.

Everything felt so natural with Mark. Nothing was learned nor taught, it was simply second nature for your body to respond to him with ardency and abidance. It came naturally.

“You feel so good,” Mark groaned, giving your thigh a little slap as if to punish you for bringing him to ecstasy. And smirking a little when you let out a tiny cry. “Why do you feel so good?”

You playfully retorted, “‘Cause I’m a goddess.”

Mark nodded. “I believe you.” He brought one of his hands from your hips and ventured your perfect body. Perfect in his eyes. Every spot and curve and scar. And the bruises he’d left, of course. “My Aphrodite.”

You lifted your head a little to clench your teeth into his neck and Mark leaned into you, biting at your shoulder to smother his sounds. Which made you giggle. It always amused you that he was so sensitive to your every touch.

Gosh, you were so goddamn close; skin on skin. Fire wafted over your body, fueled by the flames of his sweltering skin. Sweat beaded at your skin and heat shot through every muscle of your body. The way Mark was pounding into you mercilessly only made you scorch even more. It was impossible to breathe and you loved it. There was no greater feeling than being suffocated by pleasure and arousal.

You locked eyes with Mark and swore you couldn’t feel your pulse. Missionary wasn’t something you did with Mark very often, but you loved to watch his face tense with pleasure. And making prolonged eye contact caused your heart to swell with something unfamiliar. Something vicious and strong that made your entire body ignite with warmth.

The sex was rough and fast, yet intimate. Mark was just the right amount of all three.

Mark loosely gripped your throat and growled, “Tell me you love it.”

You bowed your body into him, moaning, “I love it so much.” 

That was the right answer. Mark continued to love you all over. His body never neglected any part of yours, showering you with warmth and pleasure. Like he had nothing but depthless appreciation for you.

The longer Mark fucked you, the less you could think of anything other than him. You forgot about the huge city right outside the balcony. Everyone and everything else melted away and it was only you and Mark chasing the satisfaction of each other’s bodies and love. 

Love. You were beginning to accept it. There was nowhere to run and no escape; not when Mark was overwhelming you with heated fervor and passion. He was suffocating you with that forbidden four-letter word.

You were beginning to fall in love with Mark.

If love was a poison, you were sipping to your demise and savoring the taste on your tongue. If combining sex with love was a one-way ticket to death, you’d die in Mark’s arms. There was no place else you’d rather be.

“All mine,” Mark growled, pressing kisses down your collarbone and breast to your stomach. All you could feel were tingles that refused to vacate you. They’d found a new home.

Softly, you replied, “All yours.”

There was no arguing with that. The way your body responded to his touch, it was as if you were carefully crafted for Mark and Mark only. Which, the way he fit perfectly inside of you was a testament to.

Mark made you feel rupture and rapture. They were practically indistinguishable. He broke you into a billion tiny pieces that were held together by unfaltering desire.

Just listening to the mess that you’d both created set you ablaze. The wet, resounding clap of Mark slamming his hips into yours as well as your moans and heavy breaths filled the empty air. Your eyes rolled back at the lewd noises. “Mark, Mark,” you cried out his name, sensing you were only moments away from the edge.

Mark knew that you were close without asking and he was trailing right behind you by nearly nothing at all. His pace was vigorous, positively trying to fuck your brains out.

You only got closer and closer. His thrusts felt sharper and the pressure continued to build in your gut at a rate quicker than you could handle and far beyond your control. Any moment now, you would be at your breaking point.

“Don’t pull out,” you demanded, knowing he wasn’t far behind you. It was written all over his face.

Mark grunted at the mere thought of coming inside of you. Needless to say, he had dreamed of letting his release flood you. “Want me to fill you up?”

“Yes,” you moaned, craving him more than anything ever. “Please.”

Mark clamped his fingers around your throat, knowing it would bring you to finish quicker than anything else. “Let go for me, baby,” he said lustfully.

Just like that, you were convulsing with climax. As if he single-handedly controlled every muscle and nerve in your body. The room reeled as you came, voice as loud as it could be with his hand denying you the privilege of breath. Your nails dug harshly into the flesh of his back as your whole body shuddered uncontrollably with release.

You and Mark stared each other in the eyes as you both came. You watched his lips split in a grunt and his orgasm knocked the wind out of him, flaring down his spine. His fingers dug tighter around your throat and his cum filled you all at once. “Take it all,” he ordered, body coming to a halt. “Every last drop.”

Your body obeyed, still eagerly clinging around his cock. It was like you wanted to bleed each other dry. Him of all of his cum and you of your willpower.

Then, you slowly yet steadily both came to a stop. Mark took his precious time to pull out of you, but watched his seed trickle out of your sweet cunt with adoration. His grip around your neck slackened, and you both settled down to finally breathe for what felt like the first time ever.

It wasn’t like you to be so exhausted after a single round, but that night, you were completely spent. You cleaned up a little, then drifted into sleep within the comfort of Mark’s embrace.

Mark held your sleeping figure closely, taking all of your warmth and replacing it with his. I love you, he thought gently. And I’m sorry.

You fell asleep in Mark’s arms, and after a long night of dreaming about him in your sleep, woke up in them, too. And you had the biggest smile on your face when you realized that some time between when you fell asleep and when you woke up, Mark had removed your makeup.

You were beginning to love Mark so much that you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

Last night was mind-blowing. And not only that, it gave you an epiphany. You wanted Mark in your life. You wanted to wake up in his arms and feel his body on yours. You wanted to kiss him while cuddling beneath the moonlight. You wanted to take over the world with him.

But by doing so, you would have broken one of Bloodlust’s most important rules; disobeying direct orders. The cost? Your life.

All of the warmth of loving Mark you felt for him only moments ago suddenly dissipated into cold unadulterated fear.

You stared at his sleeping face and felt a tear slide down your face. I’m sorry.

Mark’s eyes fluttered open. He wiped your tears with his thumb and asked in his gruff morning voice, “Why are you crying?”

You smiled and shook your head. “It’s nothing,” you lied.

Though in reality, you were so overwhelmed. And borderline terrified. The last time you loved someone, they tried to violate you. Not to mention you knew the inner circle would never approve of your relationship with Mark.

If you didn’t kill him, then they would. And then you’d be next.

“Don’t lie to me,” Mark said. He could see that this whole predicament was doing a large number on you. Even the strongest soldiers had their weak points.

You sighed faintly. Then said, “I’ll tell you later.”

Mark’s hand found yours and squeezed it tightly. “Promise?”

“I promise.” You glanced at his neck, and failed to hide your grin of pride as you saw the pattern of marks you’d left there. Little traces of you flooded his whole body. As traces of him did yours. “Mm, did I do that?”

He shifted his glance down and snickered. “You did.”

You hummed. “I didn’t mean to go that far.”

“For some reason, I don’t believe you.”

You gasped in faux offense. Then, broke into a fit of giggles. The sight tugged at Mark’s heartstrings and the corners of his lips.

That smile was what made your heart beat. You brought your lips to Mark’s in a peck. Or three. Insatiably craving more, Mark held your face and kissed you even longer and harder.

One thing led to another. One second your lips were to his and the next he was lazily fucking you into pieces, moans echoing inside the room in between kisses and giggles.

You were so far gone that there was no redemption.

The weeks flew by at the speed of lightning and in no time at all, you were months deep into Mark. He gave you everything that the narcotics unit had on you thus far, and you were pleasantly surprised to find that it wasn’t much at all. They had most of the inner circle identified save for Jaemin (not surprisingly), but the relationships were either vague, inaccurate or a combination thereof.

The only reason Jaemin and Ten hadn’t cracked their unit open yet was because of the tight lock they had on all gang-related cases. And they kept their information on physical files. Granted, it was very scarce.

Begrudgingly, of course, you had to give Jisung credit there. Neither Mark or Jeno had caught a glimpse of those imported drugs before in their lives.

Given that you made no attempts to hide your affection, it was broadly known that there was a bond between both you and Mark. You played it off as baiting him; luring him into your trap in order to milk him for everything he knew. Your emotions were kept under wraps when he was the topic of discussion and you fought smiles whenever you heard someone say Mark’s name. They fell hook, line, and sinker.

“They had a hunch that you were Yuta’s girlfriend,” Mark had told you. Now that he was confidently aware that it wasn’t the case, he found it laughable. “I was supposed to use you to move in proximity with the inner circle. The best way to take down any organization is to remove the heart, but obviously I never got far.”

Apparently, their source of rationale were photographs of you and Yuta together discreetly taken. It was a lie you fed into, providing Mark fake intel to feed his dangerously nosy co-workers. As always, the less law enforcement knew, the better.

Your shoulders shook with laughter. “You used to be such a pain in the ass, y’know? I can’t believe you bugged me.”

Mark furrowed his brows. “Huh?”

“Didn’t you put a bug in my pocket?” you asked, arching your brows. “After the race. You know, when you hugged me?”

“My hands were on your back,” Mark reminded, confused. As were you. “That was probably Jeno. But he hasn’t mentioned anything to me about it. I never bugged you, baby - I genuinely just wanted a hug.”

You barked, “The hell is his problem with me? I mean, for an undercover cop he’s obvious as hell. Why send somebody with no prior experience to the danger zone?”

Mark shrugged. He had very little say on the matter. Not that he fought it, either. “They decided that he was ‘the second-most equipped.’ Verbatim.”

“I can’t imagine why. That night on the rooftop,” you trailed off, shaking your head. “I don’t think he trusts you.”

Mark laughed. That was to put it simply. “Yeah, me neither. I told him I was fooling around with you to gain your trust - and at first, I was. But not anymore.”

That went without saying. But you still retorted, “If you’re fucking with me, Mark, I’ll kill you.”

Mark snorted. “I’m sure.”

He wasn’t afraid of you. Like you were a puppy posing as a wolf waving your paws at him with puppy eyes. Mark, threatened by you? As if. You were his fucking baby.

Long nights of feeding Bloodlust intel on the narcotics unit, then coming home to Mark passed by. You’d eventually given him your address and permitted him to go inside. He quite liked your home. It looked and smelled like you. He never knew what to imagine when it came to the interior of your house, but upon seeing, it made perfect sense.

Pictures of you and your friends scattered around the house. None of you by yourself and none with your family. Little plants growing healthily. You mentioned that they were high-maintenance. Your favorite blankets in a heap on the sofa. And a bookshelf brimming with novels. Mark was pleasantly surprised to learn that you were a major bookworm. And a closeted romantic.

It was close to midnight when you heard someone behind you. Very swiftly, you were endeavoring to arrive safely to the garage where your car waited, though you knew that there was no chance of making it in one piece without confrontation. You turned a corner and patiently drew your gun; it wasn’t very often that you ventured into the night alone past sunset, but you damn sure made certain that your gun was tucked to yourself.

There was a familiar negative energy all around you. It was impossible to ignore - far too suffocating and too distinguishable to be neglected.

Not surprising in the slightest, it was Jeno who rounded the corner. With his usual scowl, and an aimed gun. 

Narrowing your eyes, you snapped, “What do you want?”

Jeno smiled. It was the first time you’d seen his lips form anything other than a crooked frown, but it still exuded that same level of cold grimness. “I think you know what I want.”

You studied Jeno for a moment. For someone who believed you were the second-in-command’s girlfriend, he showed you no fear, grip on his gun firm as he aimed it squarely at your chest. Apparently, you were a woman that was loyal to no one but herself in the eyes of the law. Which made you all the more unpredictable. “I know that you’re not who you say you are,” you began levelly, inching closer. “I know everything there is to know about you, Jeno.”

“Because Mark told you, right?” Jeno snarled. “I know a lot about you, too - like how you’ve been whoring yourself out to Mark because you know that he’s easy. He was ripe for the picking and that’s why they stuck me with him; because they knew he needed grounding.”

That made you bristle with anger, but you kept a lid over your temper and retorted, “That sounds like a nice little fairy tale. Is that what you’re going to tell the big boss?”

Ignoring you, Jeno continued, “The world will know the truth about you and this whole gang. You’re more than the bitch they pay to secretly do their bidding. Before you were Scar, you were a gang-hopper.”

Seething, you lunged at Jeno with the gun. He blocked the attack - courtesy of your blindness from the rage that ran down your spine - and cocked his gun at you.

And then there was a loud, piercing gunshot.

But you were never shot. Jeno’s grip on his gun slackened and fell to the ground with him. He lay there gaping, a hand over his stomach that bled profusely. And glancing not at you; behind you. When you turned around, Mark emerged from the corner around you and stepped out of the shadows to approach you.

“You should be more careful,” Mark chided. “What if it wasn’t me behind you?”

Though you wanted to smile, you couldn’t. There was a tormenting question on your brain. How does Jeno know about my past?

“Mark,” Jeno choked out, nearly coughing up blood. He raised his arm with all of his strength and pointed with a trembling finger. “Mark is…,”

Mark didn’t let him finish, cutting Jeno off with a bullet to the head. Whatever he was going to say died with him.

Rather than feeling relieved, you were unnerved. Mark killed Jeno to protect you. Love made people do crazy things - that you knew better than anyone else, but Mark seemed colder than you’d ever seen him before. He didn’t waver; unhesitating and unremorseful.

As if this wasn’t his first rodeo.

“You never mentioned telling the team about my past.”

Mark cast you a glance. “That’s because I didn’t.”

You narrowed your eyes and whispered, “Then, how did Jeno know?”

Mark caught onto what you were hinting at and his face swiftly softened. There was no way in hell that he would do anything to hurt you. And he needed you to know that. “I never said a word about your past to him, baby. I swear. I don’t know how he found out, but you need to know that I’d never air out any of your business.”

There were other possibilities, too. Your past wasn’t exactly private - that you knew. He could have contacted your old friends, or heard the gossip of the low-ranks. Any of those roads were open, but it meant more if Mark himself exposed you. That was unacceptable.

You blew out a sigh and reminded yourself that Mark had been in gangs before - he most likely had bodies. As always, you were just paranoid. You believed that everyone was out to get you because the people that were meant to embrace you released you into the cold.

Hiding your gun, you pulled Mark into your embrace and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Mark murmured. “Just tell me that you trust me.”

“I trust you,” you told him. No reluctance, no shame. And I love you.

You knew that Mark loved you too. In your heart and bones. He had killed for you.

You called someone to discard Jeno's corpse and went home with Mark. The two of you talked and fell asleep by each other’s side. It was more or less a routine.

But when you woke up, Mark wasn’t there. You called out his name; no response. You looked inside the bathroom and he wasn’t there. The living room, kitchen, and all of his favorite spots inside your house were almost void of life.

Mark wasn’t there and it was downright laughable that that frightened you to your very core, but he never left without telling you. You scanned your memories of last night for any warning and ultimately came short.

It wasn’t the first time that you’d woken up alone, but more often than not, you woke up in each other’s arms. Occasionally, one of you would be in the bathroom or kitchen, but you never left the house without mentioning it the night before or leaving some form of text or note.

Though when you checked your phone, it was empty.

And so, you began to do the one thing you very seldom did; panic. There was no indication that Mark had been forced out of your house, but the depthless list of possibilities unnerved you. You prayed that he was somewhere safe. That at most, maybe he’d simply forgotten. You would have scolded him for getting you wound up over nothing, but at least he would be out of harm’s way.

There was a knock at your front door and hoping it was Mark, you rushed to open it, but you frowned when you were met with the face of a man that you’d never seen before.

The stranger said, “Hi. I’m Huang Renjun and I know you don’t know me, but you’ve got to get the fuck out of here. Right now.”

You blinked. Then, shut the door on him. It was too goddamn early for this foolishness.

Undeterred, Renjun opened the door again and welcomed himself inside. This town wasn’t big enough for two stubborn assholes.

You screeched, “The hell, man?”

Renjun exclaimed, “Do you want to die?”

“I literally do not know who the fuck you are!”

“Yes. I thought I made that very clear,” Renjun hissed, gritting his teeth. “But you do know Alexander Lee.”

In an instant, you were rendered gorgonized like a gargoyle. That name never failed to put you in a borderline unresponsive stupor. Anything regarding Alexander “Lex” Lee plagued your heart and body with crisp fear.

“I don’t want anything that has to do with Lex,” you replied, shaking your head and backing away.

This game of hide-and-seek had kept you on your toes for ages now. You’d spent the last years of your life off the grid to take cover from him and now this? Hell no.

Renjun briefly studied you. For someone rumored to have looked death in the face and blown him a kiss, it was not at all lost on him how terrified you’d suddenly become at the mere mention of Lex’s name. It was a warranted fear - the one that made you tick. “I’m sure. But if you don’t leave this place as soon as possible, he’s going to kill you.”

“And I’m supposed to just trust you?” you whispered, all the bite in your voice demolished by terror.

“Mark sent me.”

You blinked. “What?”

Renjun groaned, though didn’t elaborate. It was no mystery how you and Mark got along. For one, you were both a pain in ass and a thorn in his side. Instead, he drew his phone from his pocket and dialed a number. And put the phone on speaker.

“Do you have her?” came Mark’s voice.

Renjun said exasperatedly, “Let’s try ‘Hello, Renjun.’ Or ‘Hi.’ Most people say that when they pick up the phone, you know.”

“Mark,” you breathed, relieved to hear his voice. He was somewhere out there. But you were hurt that he left you.

Ignoring Renjun, Mark greeted, “Hi, doll.”

Renjun only wished he had time to argue. He would have burned your lover alive for greeting you instead of him, but the clock was ticking. He already had too many irons in the fire. “Hurry up and talk some sense into your girl, Mark. She doesn’t believe me.”

Your girl, he had said. Mark’s girl. For a split second, your heart brimmed with warmth.

Mark began from across the line, “Listen to me, baby. I know this is sudden and I’ll explain everything as soon as I get the chance, but you need to trust me and listen to Renjun. Okay?”

Your heart sank. “What’s going on?”

“No time to explain,” Mark told you curtly. “Just do this for me. Please.”

You blew out a sigh. This was too much too soon. Ultimately, you decided to trust Mark. “Okay.”

Mark blurted, “I love you.”

A pained smile curled your lips. “I love you more.”

“Alright, fun’s over,” Renjun interjected. He would not stick around for your lovey-dovey mess. Especially not when lives were on the line and in jeopardy. “We’ll talk to you later, Mark. You go get dressed and come on.”

Begrudgingly, you did as told, rushing upstairs to throw on an appropriate outfit before you headed back down and got inside a car with a man that you’d known for less than fifteen minutes.

As soon as you were on the road, you reminded yourself that you had no idea what was happening and where you were going, and asked, “Where are we going?”

Renjun replied, “Somewhere safe.”

Vague. You didn’t like that. “Are you a cop?”

“No.”

“Do you work with Mark?”

“Not in the way that you think,” Renjun responded, patiently quickly evaporating into thin air.

You pressed, “Then, in what way?”

Gosh, you were aggravating. In his mind, Renjun was likening you to a child that persistently asked their parents, ‘Are we there yet?’ during long road trips. “Jesus, woman! Would you stop badgering me?”

You narrowed your eyes and faced the window so that you wouldn’t lunge at him. “I just want to know what’s going on. You mention Lex Lee - the man that’s been indirectly making my life hell for the last years of my life - and expect me to not have questions?”

You had him there. Alexander was the devil himself and anyone that had known him for five minutes could most likely back you up. His goons were lightly compensated and offered little leeway, and the worst part was the hierarchy system.

Everyone was inferior to someone save for Lex, and the designated high-ranks were equally crooked. They schemed to get away with stepping out of line directly under his nose, often pinning the blame on low-ranking members to avoid lethal retribution.

That was why you were scared shitless to return that day. Lex and your ex-boyfriend were like brothers. It didn’t matter what you told him happened to you - you’d be lucky if he cared. Let alone believed you.

Renjun heaved a breath. You had a very fair argument. “Lex is looking for you. He’s attacked Bloodlust’s headquarters. That’s why Mark wants me to keep you safe.”

“What?” you shrieked in terror. “I have to go back there!”

Renjun turned onto another street and shook his head, eyeing the roads for Lex’s hounds. “It’s not safe. Do you hear me? It’s not safe. You were scared shitless of anything involving Lex three seconds ago.”

“I don’t care,” you hissed. “This is my battle. I’ll be damned if I let anyone else fight it for me. Yuta saved my life - now it’s my turn.”

Renjun balked, “No, it’s not. I know about Bloodlust. They protect you as long as you do their bidding. So let them do their goddamn job.”

Gritting your teeth, you crossed your arms and stared out the window, watching buildings and signs whirl by in a blur. It was clear that Renjun would not be wooed by you, but you refused to sit and do nothing. Especially when his connection - or Mark’s - to Lex was unknown. There had to be another way.

Recognizing the road you turned onto, you had an idea. It was reckless and extremely dangerous, but you wouldn’t let that deter you. Not when the better half of your life consisted of making life-threatening choices. There was the option to take the hard way or the easy way out.

And you’d be damned if you took the easy way.

Calculating, you counted down the seconds in your head until you could make your move. The moment you were down to one, you moved at the speed of light and swung the car door open, launching yourself out and rolling into an area of enclosed grass.

You grabbed your gun from your purse and aimed squarely at Renjun’s tires, sending him swerving somewhere. He screamed in the distance, “You sick psychopathic bitch!”

I’ve heard that before, too, you thought to yourself with levity. And then, like your life depended on it, you bolted.

Dusting away dirt and twigs, you sprinted and sprinted and sprinted. The street was close to the garages. Obviously, your car wasn’t there, but there were plenty that were.

You bust through the garage and scanned each of the open slots for your unlucky victim. There were several people, most polishing up their cars before tonight’s race. And you swiftly made your pick, not having time to linger.

You snatched one of the racer’s keys and asked breathlessly, “Can I borrow these? Thanks, you’re the best!”

Screams of protest were your less than pleased response, but you had already made a distance on the garage by the time anyone thought to react. The moment you were on a road, you let out a thick, heavy breath.

Forget crazy. You were out of your goddamn mind.

You sped as fast as you could without going over the limit, given you had already committed two crimes in broad daylight. The last thing you needed was a high-speed police chase.

The east side of the headquarters was the closest and you drove like the devil. The closer you neared, the faster your heart echoed in your chest. You hoped Mark wasn’t there, but with his knowledge of Lex, you had aching questions numb you to your love. And you prayed your boss decided to take an off day.

Alas, the building was - metaphorically speaking - ablaze when you arrived there. A grating dissonance of screams and gunshots filled the distant air. Lex had called war on Bloodlust via this ambush, but not knowing who was winning completely unnerved you. 

You got out of the car and approached the building through the rear side. Conveniently, there were emergency exits installed in scatters around the headquarters designed for similar occasions. Discreetly, you entered through one, and steered clear of the noise as you stealthily made your way upstairs. It was in your best interest to remain undetected. For all they knew, you weren’t here. 

Creeping around corners, you held your breath. As if the slightest sound would have you killed on the spot. The loud halls that echoed with gunshots terrified you, but the eerily silent ones were too quiet to be relieving. 

Whirling around the corner, you parted your lips to scream when you bumped into someone, and they clamped their palm over your mouth. “Shut the fuck up,” Jisung growled, looking both ways like a civilian crossing the street. When he deemed the close clear, he released you. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Heaving, you asked, “Have you seen Yuta or Mark?” 

Jisung answered you with complete disinterest and disdain, and said, “Yuta’s been unresponsive. As for loverboy, he’s the reason you’re in this mess.” 

You realized that you’d blown your cover the second you mentioned Mark, but you didn’t care. For the sake of your heart and mind, you needed to trust and believe that he was safe. You wouldn’t know how to go on without him. How to unlearn everything you’d gotten so accustomed to in his presence. 

“What do you mean, unresponsive?” you repeated, lost for words. “And the reason? What the hell are you talking about?” 

Jisung pinched his nose and shook his head. “Forget it. Figure that shit out yourself.” 

He turned around and walked away, Part of you was tempted to scream after him, though the sight of a man emerging from the shadows behind Jisung  - armed with murder on his mind - silenced you. For some reason, everything in your body told you to pick up your gun and shoot. You complied, and shot fire. 

Jisung whirled back around in time to watch the man hit the ground, gone without knowing what hit him. He rooted to the spot, gaze rising to your figure and noticing the gun in your grasp. “Did you just…”

“Save your life?” you finished. “Yeah. You’re welcome.”

Jisung blew out a sigh. He was many things, including your mortal enemy, but he had a moral compass and in that moment he owed you his life. He glanced around once more, then told you, “Mark is a member of The Basilisks.”

You wanted to laugh. “What?”

Jisung made his tone as menacing as possible and added, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. But your loverboy isn’t who you think he is. Jaemin followed up on him today. Mark’s cousin is Alexander Lee and he’s been in that gang since a little after you started working for Yuta.”

Your heart sank. You wanted to deny it with everything you had, but it made sense. How else would Mark know Lex? He even mentioned that his cousin made a gang. Stupid, you told yourself. You’re so fucking stupid. 

God, you wished the ground would swallow you whole. You wanted to isolate yourself from the rest of the world and rot to bones. Mark had gotten under your skin, reduced you to your true, bare self. He had seen all of the good and bad; the beautiful and ugly. You felt comfortable enough to be more vulnerable with him than you ever had anyone else. Was all of that in vain?  

The Basilisk Biker’s. It hurt so goddamn much. You felt so used and betrayed. And empty. Like you had poured your mind, body, heart and soul into loving Mark and had nothing left to spare. 

Maybe you did. 

Jisung saw the sadness in your eyes and felt a pang of something he had never felt for you before. It didn’t feel right. Your eyes always gleamed with fire, but your flame was demolished. He wanted to hug you, but it wasn’t his embrace that you needed at the moment. He doubted you would want it in the first place. 

Instead, he said, “You have to get out of here.”

“I have to find Yuta,” you argued, gritting your teeth. 

“What if he’s safe?”

Without missing a beat, you shot, “What if he’s not?” 

Jisung had argued with you enough in his lifetime to know that you were headstrong and demanded your way. If you wanted something enough, there was absolutely nothing on this earth that could stop you from chasing it. But he also knew that the moment something happened to you once he left you alone, your blood would be on his hands. “I’m going with you.”

You shrugged and replied,  “Suit yourself.” Then, began to make your way up the stairs. The elevators were too risky. 

You fought tears and focused yourself on your boss. You’d be damned if you cried while anyone was watching. You had taken a bullet tougher than this. Toughen up, you hissed inwardly. 

The long staircase had made you realize just how large the headquarters was. In your head, you had always thought of it as a second home. Now, it was being destroyed by your first one. 

When you reached the floor of Yuta’s office, you stepped onto the ground, peeking around and spotting Basilisks. Jisung whispered, “I’ll distract them. You go check his office.” 

You nodded. Jisung did exactly what he said that he would, and you set out for Yuta’s office. Just from standing outside the door, you could tell that it was empty. But you needed to see for yourself. You counted down from three, attempting to soothe your rapidly moving mind, and barged inside. 

The sight unnerved you. Yuta was nowhere to be found, but the room was completely wrecked. Like he was blitzed and fought like hell against his attacker. 

There was little trace of him. No sign of where he was or where he’d gone. Not even traces of blood. Just his belongings toppled over in a heap and his window completely open, curtains blustering. 

“Find something interesting here?”

Fear riveted you in place. You took your time to turn around, met face to face with a man straight out of a nightmare. 

“Lex,” you exhaled thickly, the wind knocked out of you.

Lex smiled wickedly. There was a gun in his hand. “Long time no see, old friend.”

You shook your head viciously and screamed, “Where the hell is my boss?” 

Lex inched closer, closing in on you as if he was going to make you walk off of a plank. You took steps backwards, colliding with Yuta’s desk. “Well, I could tell you, but where’s the fun in that?”

“You son of a bitch,” you hissed.

As if he didn’t hear you, Lex continued, “It wounded me real bad when you left, y’know. Word on the street is that this Yuta fool had you sold in less than a day. Then, I find out you killed Riley,” Lex laughed. “Whew, I was livid!”

“You were going to kill me,” you said, moving around the desk as swiftly as possible. You never wanted to leave. There were people in that gang that you considered family and you missed them everyday of your life. You never wanted to leave them behind. 

“Damn right, I was!” Lex shouted. He didn’t sound angry - he sounded insane. That was arguably worse. “With my bare goddamn hands!”

You shook your head, fighting to remain calm. Lex’s weakness was his anger, but so was yours. If you stayed rational, you had a fighting chance at survival. “I didn’t want to kill Riley. You have to trust me on that, Lex. He was trying to push me into things I wasn’t ready for. I didn’t have a choice.” 

Pretending to care, Lex crooned, “You have a choice now. Come back home. Let’s be a family again. The girls missed you the worst.” 

Or else what? You knew your other unspoken choice was gruesome as they always had been, but you also knew that Lex was full of shit. There was no way in hell that he would let you off that easily. 

Or alive, for that matter. 

You knew what your options were, because you knew Alexander Lee better than anyone else alive. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. A narcissist if you knew one, blind to his flaws. He was manipulative and deceptive, but worst of all, he had not a shred of mercy. 

If anyone was going to take your life from you, it wouldn’t be Lex. You refused to grant him that pleasure. And you knew very well that the only reason you were still alive and breathing was because he wanted to kill you with his own bare hands. Nobody would be given the satisfaction of taking your life if not you.

You shook your head and swore, “Over my dead body.” 

Then, you leapt out of the window.

And crash landed onto the balcony on the floor below you. You struck the deep trenches of your memory, reminding yourself that Yuta once mentioned that he refused to get a balcony like the rest of the members. He claimed that in times of crisis, he wouldn’t regret his decision. And you chose to believe that that was how he escaped. It was a graceless fall. It hurt like a bitch, but what mattered was that you were still alive. Somehow. 

You raced through the floor in case Lex was crazy enough to follow you. 

You ran and you ran and you ran for your life. Your legs ached from all of the reckless stunts you’d pulled today, but you never stopped running. The thoughts seeped into your mind, going miles per minute, trying to outmatch the speed of your feet. You thought of your family and felt pain. You thought of Lex and felt fear. You thought of your old friends and felt regret. You thought of Yuta and felt dread. You thought of Mark and felt stone-cold betrayal.

But you also felt love. Your heart hammered like it was trying to wreck its way through your chest. You wanted some kind of explanation for this, one that would make all of the pain fade, but you knew that there was none. 

How could Mark tell you that he loved you but work aside the same man that made your life a living hell? Your heart was crying blood. It bled and beat for him all at once. 

Adrenaline made you numb to the pain of everything except for your wounded heart. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe there was someone else that would be granted the satisfaction of taking your life. Giving Mark the key to your heart was like handing him a gun and telling him to shoot. Your heart begged for the one person that you were forbidden to have. 

Speak of the devil, they say. And he shall appear. 

Somewhere in the run for your life, you bumped directly into Mark. He looked relieved and displeased to see you all at once. 

Mark grabbed you and whispered, “Baby…”

You swatted his hands away and cried, “Don’t call me that!” 

Mark reached for your hand, squeezing tightly. There was no levity in his tone when he said, “I’m not doing any of this to hurt you. I swear on my life. You just need to trust me.”

“No,” you shouted, fighting like hell to keep your tears at bay. They stung your eyes, but he didn’t deserve to see them fall. “You’ve been lying to me this whole time and expect me to trust you? That’s not how that works, Mark.” 

“I know,” Mark agreed. “And you have every right to be pissed at me for what I’m about to do.” 

Before you had the chance to ask questions, Mark pulled you to his chest and clamped his palm over your mouth, then shouted, “Over here - I’ve got her!” 

Basilisks began to fill your vision. They circled you like a shark to its prey, guns aimed. You noticed familiar faces around you, and you couldn’t blame them for any vengeful feelings they felt for you. Mark shoved you in the middle by yourself, like he was presenting his artwork to them, proud of his product. 

Lex spoke to Mark, but you tuned in and out, their words being reduced to white noise. You felt so much pain and fear that your body began to numb your senses in self-preservation. It was too much to bear. 

This is it, you thought somberly. This is my end. Part of you was satisfied with that. You were so tired. You had worked your whole life and experienced loss to loss with no breaks in between. No breathing room. If you weren’t a sinner, you would have believed that you would finally meet your mother. 

Then again, depending on who you asked, she was a sinner too. 

“Thought you could run from me,” Lex taunted, clearly amused. “I thought you would have learned by now. No one escapes me. No one escapes their fate.” 

He was right. After all, you had nowhere to run this time. Not with over a dozen guns pointed squarely at your head.

All you wanted was for him to make this quick. To put you out of your misery already. Add one more scar to your body in completion. 

Lex tilted his head. “Any last words?”

Without hesitation, you spat, “Fuck you.” 

Lex burst into laughter. Then, much to your surprise, said, “Mark, finish her.”

You stayed still and held your breath, knowing this was the inevitable end. But you couldn’t look at Mark. It would hurt you too much.

Then, The Basilisks switched on a dime and aimed their guns at Lex - including Mark. Stupidly, you stood there blinking. Lisa - one of your old friends - had to pull you out of harm’s way. She whispered, “You’re safe. Everything’s gonna be okay now.” 

Too stunned to speak, you stood gawking. 

Lex blurted, “What the hell do you all think you’re doing?” 

“This has to end, Alexander. And it ends with you,” Mark began, casting his cousin an unsympathetic glance. “For the past decade, you’ve been making everyone here's life a living hell. How much longer did you think we were going to put up with that bullshit?” 

Lex began to stumble backwards, reaching for escape, but one of the Basilisks named Yangyang pushed him back into the circle, then said,  “Woah, woah, woah - where do you think you’re going, big guy?” 

Realizing he was cornered, Lex turned to stare at his cousin in disbelief. “Really? Your own flesh and blood, Mark?” 

Mark let out a remorseless chuckle. “Don’t pretend to have a moral compass now. Here’s the thing, Lex. Everyone here considers each other family and you’ve fucked every last one of us over. You don’t give a flying fuck about blood and flesh; all you care about is power. You like that you can kill whoever - whenever - and our fate lies in your hands.”

“It used to,” Yangyang corrected from the sidelines. “Now, the tables have turned. You get to feel what’s like to be on the other side of torture.” 

Another Basilisk - Seulgi - spoke up from the crowd, voice dripping with the bite of venom, “You pay us less than we’re worth to do your bidding and you let those sons of bitches get away with framing us - but impose the death rule so that we can’t leave. We’re fed the hell up, Lex.”

The death rule was simply that. Nobody was allowed to leave. Your only escape was the dark void of death. It was more or less a pre-prison for gangsters. 

Unless, you ran away. In Basilisk history, you were the only successful runaway. 

You simply watched in amusement, feeling a wound in you healed. Never in a million years would you have imagined a dream like this come true. It was better than anything you’d ever hoped for. It’s over. 

“I don’t do last words,” Mark mocked, cocking his gun. “Goodbye, cousin.” 

The sound of a gunshot resonated throughout the hall, and Alexander dropped to the floor in vanquish. 

“It really is over,” Lisa repeated. Until then, you hadn’t realized that you’d said those words aloud. You were out of your body. 

You grabbed her hand. “Let’s get out of here?”

Lisa cocked a brow. “What about lover boy?” 

You gaped. “You know?”

“Oh, please. Mark tells us a lot about you. He acts like we’ve never met you before. It’s hard to get him to shut up sometimes,” Lisa scoffed. 

Mark talks about me. That made your heart swell with emotion, but you pushed them aside. “I’m still mad at him. Let’s go before he makes me change my mind.” 

Giggling, Lisa told you, “Lead the way.” 

You did as told, leading her outside. For now, you pushed your worries away. They would return, but you were simply glad to connect with an old friend for the meantime. A very special one at that. 

Hand in hand, you brought Lisa to one of the balconies. The wind whipped through her hair as you both faced the city. The memories were a mixture of pained and blissful. They stung your heart, yet filled you with impalpable joy. 

After a moment of silence, Lisa whispered, “You never said goodbye.” 

“I know.” 

She whirled around to face you, a pained expression on her face. “That hurt.” 

“I know,” you said, frowning. “And I’m sorry.” 

Lisa faced the early morning city again. Like looking at you would be her breaking point. “You did what you had to do. I can’t hold that against you. I was just scared that you’d forget me.” 

You called her name austerely and slightly rolled up your shirt, then spoke like you were delivering a speech, “I carry a piece of you with me everyday. Every time I look in the mirror, I think of you. Pain is temporary, but this scar is forever. It is a constant reminder of you and what our friendship means to me. I can’t forget that.” 

Lisa gazed at your scar fondly. She remembered how you got it like it was yesterday. You jumped in front of a bullet to save her life. You were so goddamn stupid, but damn did she love you for it. 

She pulled you into a hug. And you smiled.

“I moved on,” Lisa mentioned once she pulled away. “I found someone.”

Your eyes widened, your smile broadened. “Who is she?”

Lisa smiled involuntarily at the thought of her mystery woman. Once upon a time, she smiled at you like that. “Jennie.”

“No way,” you said, jaw dropping. 

“Yes, way,” Lisa smirked. “Love always finds a way. Sometimes the one meant for you is the person you’d least expect. It’s ironic, isn't it?”

You groaned, “You’re telling me.”

Lisa studied you. Never in a million years would she have imagined that the two of you would be having a conversation like this, but she was content to hear your voice again. At one point, she thought she’d lost you forever. “You love him.” 

It was clear who ‘him’ was. You sighed out, “I do. So much. I don’t know what to do with myself.”

Lisa snickered, but suddenly became stern and said, “Mark didn’t do any of this to hurt you. He would never. He was scared half to death when Renjun called and said you’d jumped out of a car to come here. As crazy as that sounds, I’m not surprised. You’re full of crazy.” 

You laughed lightheartedly. “I’ve done worse.”

“I know. Like, jumped in front of a bullet,” Lisa retorted, then continued. “Listen, that boy is head over heels in love with you. I would know. What he did back there wasn’t a part of the initial plan, but he’s in control of this whole scheme and we urged him to do what he thought was best. He knew you would hate him for this, but he wanted to protect you from Lex for good.” 

The tears were coming back and you blinked them away. “Really?”

“It was hard to keep him from socking Lex in the jaw for talking down on you sometimes. He was ready to risk it all for you. That’s how much he loves you. Don’t punish him for that,” Lisa said, smiling ruefully. Then, she presented you with some levity. “Not for too long.”

You laughed like the two old friends you were. You never forgot what those days were like. To be together with people you considered family, you were happy. And now you were no longer forbidden to see each other.

Lisa patted your back. “Go get him.”

“Right now?” you asked, gaping in disbelief. 

“Right now,” she repeated, memories of a morose Mark returning. “Any longer and I think he’ll fling himself off one of these balconies.”

“Oh, brother,” you sighed. “Will you be okay?”

“As long as you don’t leave me for another six years.” 

You smiled and held out your pinky finger for her to intertwine with hers. “I won’t. I promise.” 

Lisa locked pinkies with you. Then, she let you go for the second time and set you free. 

You found Mark somberly glancing into the distance. His mood seemed to instantly lighten when the sound of you slumping beside him steered him from his reverie.

“Hi.”

Mark rubbed his neck. “Hey.” 

“I’m sorry,” you told him apologetically. “I should have trusted you.”

Mark blurted, “What? No. I’m the one that should be sorry. I’ve been keeping secrets from you this whole time. I should have told you.” 

“You’re right,” you replied. You switched on a dime, beginning to knock at his chest fiercely. “What were you thinking?”

He was hardly thinking. It was difficult - he couldn’t function knowing that your life was on the line. You being there meant he had to change his plans entirely because he refused to let anything happen to you. His heart was screaming when Renjun told him about the stunt you’d pulled. Above all else, all he wanted was for you to let him protect you. “I’m sorry, doll. Will a kiss make it better?” 

You paused. Then, sang, “Not sure. Kiss me and find out.”

Mark shook his head in delight. “With pleasure.”

Mark enveloped your lips in a kiss. He kissed you like he’d never get the chance again. As if this was his last day to love and hold you, but also as if he hadn’t felt your touch in years. It was so indescribably passionate. The only way you could explain was that it felt like love. Until you met Mark, you thought that you’d been cursed with the inability to fall for someone else again.

When you’d both had your fill, you pulled away for good and asked, “But I am curious - you’re a cop and a gang member at the same time?”

Mark had been waiting for that one. He cradled you in his arms and replied smoothly, “My job in the gang is to be their eyes in law enforcement. Alongside the biking, we became heavily involved in drug trafficking. It’s my job to steer the police off course and ensure they don’t go looking into The Basilisks.” 

“And that’s how you got here,” you added, the pieces coming together to form one big picture.

“Yup. I was assigned to look into Bloodlust. It’s no secret that this is where you hid and Lex wanted me to use this case to lure you out. At first, I intended to follow orders. But then I fell for you, baby. And I knew that only over my dead body would I let anything happen to you.”

“Romantic,” you purred. Then, you remembered something and your eyes filled with worry. “Have you seen Yuta?”

“He’s fine,” Mark assured. “They all are. They know this building well. That’s their advantage.”

You blew out a sigh of semi-relief. ”We have to come clean.”

Mark blinked. “Now?” 

“Now or never.” 

Mark slipped his fingers through yours and brought you to your feet. “Okay. Let’s tell them.”

You smiled. You didn’t want to hide Mark anymore. You wanted to profess your love for him from the rooftops. And you knew in your heart that he wanted to do the very same. 

That was how you found yourself in Taeyong’s much larger office. Yet again, he stood alongside Yuta and Ten. It was a little frightening, but you wouldn’t let them unnerve you. You were bold in your love.

Lightheartedly, Yuta tried to lighten the mood with levity, “This is the infamous Markie.”

Mark shook his hand. “Dom Toretto.”

You cleared your throat. “Don’t mind him - he watches a lot of movies.” 

Taeyong cut to the chase. “You disobeyed direct orders.” 

You stiffened, knowing he was talking directly to you. You met his gaze and didn’t falter. “Yes.”

“And you were aware that you were disobeying direct orders - and of the punishment that shall follow.”

“That is correct.”

Taeyong arched his brow, amused by your boldness. It took guts to disobey the king of the empire. He sat and reclined in his seat and told you sternly, “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill both of you right now.” 

The gun resting patiently on his desk did not go unnoticed by you, but you dug into your heels and held Mark’s arm firmly. You were honest. “I have none. I’ve disobeyed and deceived you while aware of the consequences. I apologize for that, but I won’t apologize for loving him and I won’t let you kill him without killing me first.” 

Ten heaved a breath and took off his glasses, massaging his temple. Then, Yuta leapt up and shouted, “Yes! Run me my money!”

You blinked, only able to watch as Taeyong and Ten exasperatedly drew money from their pockets. Then, it hit you and you shrieked, “You bet money on me?”

“Damn right I did,” Yuta replied, not sparing you a glance as he counted his money. 

Noticing the ridiculously perplexed looks on you and Mark’s faces, Ten explained, “Yuta’s had a sneaking suspicion that you were lying about the severity of your relationship with Mark. Jisung tried to tell us, but Taeyong and I thought he was biased because of how much you argue. Clearly not.” 

Taeyong deadpanned, “Remind me not to make any more deals with either of you where money is concerned.” 

Mark pulled you to his chest, smiling. Some things you just couldn’t hide. His love for you was one of them. “So, we’re off the hook?” 

“I usually don't hesitate to punish people for defiance, but I’ll make an exception just this once,” Taeyong replied, smiling wryly. “I take it that your cousin’s gang is in your hands now. Don’t cause any trouble and you’re fine in my book.”

Mark nodded. He glanced down at you and knew that that wouldn’t be a problem. “Deal.” 

That night, you and Mark danced in each other's arms, refusing to let go. It was like nothing could come in between you. You knew now that your love was worth the battle and the war. Love always finds a way, a dear friend had told you. 

You asked over the music, “Wanna do something really crazy?” 

Mark looked at you, eye’s screaming, “Yes!” He would do anything for you - give you the world if you wanted it. Instead of borderline professing his love for you and telling you things that you already knew, he asked, “Like what?” 

“Let’s go to Vegas.”

Mark chortled. “That is kinda crazy.”

You argued, “Think about it - no one knows us there. It’ll just be me and you in a city full of people. Doesn’t that sound romantic?” 

Mark hushed you and said, “Baby, please. I was already buying the plane tickets.”

You snickered. You knew you had Mark right where you wanted him. And it felt so goddamn good. 

You and Mark stumbled out of the tattoo parlor. Given the long flight, you were utterly spent when you arrived, but the second you recharged you knew exactly what you wanted to do.

Get matching tattoos. 

Initially, you thought it would have been difficult to convince Mark to get a tattoo with you. After all, they were permanent. But he was surprisingly willing and pleased with the results. 

“To a lifetime and a half with you,” Mark told you, mounting the bike you’d left at the curbside of the parlor. You wanted to see how well he could drive one. 

Grabbing the pink helmet he handed you, you beamed. Happiness made your heart beat and your blood circulate. “To a lifetime and a half with my Markie pooh,” you teased. 

Mark rolled his eyes and wrapped your arms around his waist. “Hold on tight.” 

You yelped when the motorbike jerked to life beneath you, and then you were soaring down the roads of Las Vegas, carefree and in love. Nobody could tell you anything when you were with the love of your life.

Love was the greatest weapon of all. 

[takavasen]

Tumblr dashboard in Night Vale simulator

🧪homo-genius

Today's science fact:

Spiders have an open blood circulation system, which means they do not have veins and their blood is different from the blood of mammals. Unfortunately many healthcare professionals do not know this, which can lead to improper methods in...

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🎙️voice_of_night_vale

Spiders are a valuable part of our community and deserve good healthcare.

But more importantly, I want everyone to know that Carlos the Scientist made this post, he is my husband and I love him very much! 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

🪬a-thousand-fingernails Follow

Cecil everyone knows you and Carlos are married and most of us are happy for you but you don't need to tell this in every post you make

🎙️voice_of_night_vale

Wait have I mentioned it before?

809 notes

⭐sheriffofallarts

Hah saw some loser (@ marble-eyes) bring the same girl (@ mountainbeliever343 I think, couldn't see her face clearly from the cameras) home for the third time this week lol

cmon just say you are girlfriends already dont be shy

💎marble-eyes Follow

Hey you can't just share private information like that!! And besides that is not true, I haven't brought anyone home for a long time, I don't have time for that anymore!!!

🟡secretly-in-your-home

No. I can confirm that what Sam said is true. I was there. I am always there. Also, I put the rest of your cereal to your washing machine. They have been in the cupboard for a while now, I thought they were getting quite dusty and needed cleaning.

31 notes

🏀basketballpalmer Follow

We had an another great season with @nvwheelchairbasketball team again! Thank you everyone, it's an honor to be the captain of the team! See you guys next season <3

👍wallabyyy Follow

Aaaaa congratulations! I miss you guyssss

43 notes

☀️prophet-of-smiling-god

I just had the most delightful date with the most gorgeous theologist in Desert Bluffs Too!!! We had a lovely dinner at my house (some eyeball salad, mushed tarantulas and fried human fingers), watched some movies and of course made sure to serve our great Smiling God by making each other as happy as possible!! Unfortunately Charles said that it would make him unhappy if I shared the details, but I can confidently say that I have never been more joyful!!

🦷smiling-mayor Follow

Kevin, you missed a service in the Temple of Joy because of this. Surely you would remember doing that for an old friend, wouldn't you? 😊

☀️prophet-of-smiling-god

Oh, Lauren, of course I wouldn't ignore anything like that on purpose, you know how much I love tolerating you!!

98 notes

🪽not-an-angel Follow

Does anyone happen to have 10 bucks?

You can send them here: absolutely-not-a-scam-link

🌟erikaaaaaaa Follow

Does anyone happen to have 10 bucks?

You can send them here: absolutely-not-a-scam-link

💵ex-vanston Follow

Does anyone happen to have 10 bucks?

You can send them here: absolutely-not-a-scam-link

💡erika-the-black-one Follow

Does anyone happen to have 10 bucks?

You can send them here: absolutely-not-a-scam-link

3 notes

😎violentfootstool-deactivated20230416

Hey guys, so I just spoke to the new scientist lady and found out I don't actually have three pairs of arms. The lower two were just robot limbs that I tried out when I was seven years old and forgot to take them off. So hows your day ://

🔬janet-lubelle

I am always happy to help with explaining your problems away.

🎀tinfoilforteeth

Hey bitch how is it going under the cow

754 notes

🎙️voice-of-night-vale

Alright, I'm going to say it. Steve Carlsberg does NOT know how to be a basketball coach. He knows nothing about any game structures, and he only allows one ball per game!! He talks too loud, except when you can't hear him. It will be ALL HIS FAULT if we end up losing this season!!!!!

🌠lines-in-the-sky Follow

:(

🎙️voice-of-night-vale

For everyone who finds this post now: I made this many years ago. Things have changed a lot. I'm very sorry, Steve. I couldn't hope for a better brother-in-law. You are my best friend, and I was the irrational one in this situation.

I have changed the way I look at people. I will not treat them the same way I used to treat Steve anymore.

1,642 notes

🎙️voice-of-night-vale

Alright, who let Susan Willman be in charge of anything? She is the absolute worst at making desicions, like, who asks an obelisk its NAME? She had an oppoturnity to ask almost anything, and that's what she chose?? She better stay away from our way for at least seven decades, and keep her "Huntokar"-nonsense with herself!!!

11 notes

[coolprettyleo]

we can't be friends (wait for your love) - luke hughes

luke hughes x reader

wc: 1.5k

tw: angst. fluff. arguing. breakup. no happy ending. not really proofread, got tired lol

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

your life had been going good, a little too good. you should have knew all too well that the daydream you had been in weren't going to last much longer.

luke hughes. the man who had stolen your heart and gave you the best memories a boyfriend could give a girl like you. for someone who's thought themselves to be the biggest hopeless romantic, meeting luke had been the light in your life.

you had met the younger hughes brother at a frat party. he had been running off a high after a good game and his normally reserved nature had cracked due to the adrenaline from the win, it gave him the confidence to flirt with you.

initially, you had thought he was going to be a casual hookup. you were taught the hookup culture early into your freshman year, when you thought the frat guy you slept with at your first ever party the night before was going to give you the time of day, once the cloths came on.

news flash you learnt something that day. men are sluts.

so when the star hockey player started flirting with you, you had thought it to be just another guy who wanted a hookup. you ultimately decided to live out your fourteen year old selves Wattpad dream and entertain the cute curly haired boy.

you were surprised when you opened instagram the morning after to find he had requested you and from there on out, the rest was history.

it didn't take long for you guys to become the golden couple of the university. you attended his games wearing his jersey, met each others friends and families, and most importantly fell in love with one another's nature.

everything was going perfect for the two of you, until the real world decided it wanted to slap you both across the face. hard.

luke's passion was and will always be hockey. you knew that when you met him and ultimately decided to jump into a relationship with him. you loved every part about him, including hockey; it's what made him, him.

the sport didn't come between the two of you until he moved over six hundred miles away to play it.

you knew it was coming, you've both talked about it but unfortunately talking about it and actually saying goodbye is two very different things.

you loved the curly haired boy but you were beginning to wonder if it was all even worth it anymore. it was clear long distance was not working in your favor.

it had been almost a year since he started with the devils. a year since it all went to shit. a year since this 'rough patch' as luke liked to call it started. surely a rough patch couldn't last this long?

long distance usually makes a couple or it breaks them. it seemed to be breaking the two of you.

you rarely got to see your boyfriend due to the fact he's glued to the team during the season, so it was up to you, to fly out and see him.

you hated flying. so almost every time, your stress levels shot through the roof causing the worst headache known to man kind to come across you. automatically putting you in a sour mood when landing.

flashback

"i don't understand why you're being like this, this whole thing is planned around the fact that the team wants to meet you!" luke said exaspertly as he helped her load her bags in his jeep. he talked about you so much that when jack opened his mouth about you coming to visit, the wags were quick to plan a get-together, and you had just said you weren't up for it.

"i'm sorry luke but I feel like crap. i dont want to put up a character and meet new people right now"

"then don't put up a character, be yourself. that's who I fell in lov-" he said as you rolled your eyes, wincing; seeing as it didn't help the slamming feeling in your head.

"I don't want to Luke!" you cut him off. luke took a deep breath and texted jack to let them know you guy's wouldn't be making it.

looking back at it now; it wasn't that serious. but that headache couldn't make you think straight. that had been the first fight between the two of you. you're pretty sure thats when all his friend deemed you to be the villain and told him he deserved better.

you began to believe that and you knew luke did too. you just wanted this story to die, you knew you'd be alright.

luke on the other hand was clinging to every inch of you he could get; while you clinged to your papers and pens; writing about your misery.

you loved to write so of course you were going to pour your emotions into these stories. hoping the book would understand better then Luke ever could.

you two were laying in his bed, cloths sprawled out across his bedroom floor.

you had landed in jersey last night, ready to pretend and be the picture luke painted of you.

the two of you had the best night, it had been a while since you last seen him and an even longer while since you last seen him and everything felt... right.

you should of known a storm was brewing.

you were leaning your head onto his bare chest, legs tangled between each other as you played with his curls, looking up at him. he was growing into being the most handsome man.

"im so happy your here" he said tracing down your arms.

"me too. I missed your face" you said as you leaned up and kissed his jaw as he blushed. moments like these made you want throw away all the doubts you had about the relationship.

"me too. i can't wait to wake up next to you everyday" he said as your blood ran cold. you were tired of tiptoeing and hiding around the fight you knew was to come.

he'd been wanting you to move to jersey since he moved, the only problem being, is that you didn't want to.

"what's wrong" he said as you moved away his heart falling too his stomach.

"remember how I told you I wanted to graduate first?" you said nervously. he knew you were going to graduate early and the excuse of school was soon going to expire.

"yeah, thats pretty soon. we need to start looking for a place, by the way-"

"luke-" you started, wanting to stop it before it got any further.

"I think it'll do good for jack and I to get space" he said jokingly as he kept rambling,

"I know you've always wanted to live in manhattan, we can get a place there, i can commute-"

"im not coming here after graduation" you said with watery eyes.

you were the villain, at least in this story.

you wanted to experience life. you were only twenty one and the idea of that part of your life ending before you even got to begin it made you want to spiral.

"im sorry?" he said looking at you like you just killed his childhood dog. he would wait for your love a million years, if thats what it took.

"luke- im sorry, but I want to experience things. i want to live this life and know every corner of it-"

"i don't understand. why can't we those things together?"

"im sorry" you said standing up, not really sure what to do anymore.

"are we breaking up" he said with a straight face. you knew he was holding back tears.

"for now, yes" she told him as he put his head down.

you weren't heartless, so you took a seat next to him as you wrapped an arm around him.

"hey, look at me luke. this isn't the end, I'll still always care about you, I want to see you succeed hughsey" you told him as he remebered the night he met you and you called him that.

___

future

luke had been doing amazing; breaking records in the NHL and living life like anyone his age should be. his life was going good.

he obviously missed you but he soon learned he was going to be alright, even though a part of him waiting for your love. your love to like him again.

the smarter part of him knew better, the story was over.

he got home from a game that had went amazing for him and set his stuff down as he opened instagram.

the very first picture being, one of you and your new boyfriend. he knew you moved on and moved to nyc. he's actually ran into you before, both of you acting like you didnt break each others heart into a million peices. acting like old friends.

the reason the picture made his heart drop was due to the fact you were holding up a ring as you looked into the eyes of another. another who wasn't Luke Hughes.

he couldn't do it. he tried, he really did. he wanted to see you succeed and live like you wanted, he just couldn't bare to see it without him in it.

he clicked on her profile as he hovered over the unfollow button. he oh so desperately wanted to pretend to be this daydream but he was reminded of the fact their story had ended. he hit the button and knew he'd be alright.

we can't be friends (wait for your love)

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

this was inspired by an edit I saw on tiktok, and obviously the song too lol. I can't find the edit but like yeah!

[ipleadbritney]

hi! for the build a fic can I please request landoscar, 5, S, 𓆌?

OK SORRY ANON FOR GETTING TO THIS SO LATE I WAS WAITING FOR INSPIRATION TO STRIKE AND I THINK IT MIGHT HAVE STRUCK TWICE SO THIS IS FIRST OF THEM

build a fic post here

rest up, champs

Jon had predicted the second Lando crossed the line first, the moment the championship was theirs and no one else's, that it would be a very long 48 hours.

It was. He just doesn't remember most of them.

He ignores the dull ache at the back of his head as he makes his way up to the penthouse suites of the Hilton. He's hiding behind a pair of sunglasses he nicked from one of the mechanics who crashed in his room, too drunk to find his own room probably two doors down.

The place is crawling with McLaren staff. Jon should greet them, but all he can muster up is a nod and vague grunts about the weather, yeah, and how's it going, champ? Everyone is as smacked as he is though, so they're just nodding at each other in the hallways.

Jon doesn't drink on race weekends, but it's not every week you win a championship. If he's this bad, how is Lando?

Well, according to his garbled texts sent near-midday:

dont knoe eher i am

bef me pleae

get me

Last Jon saw of Lando at the club, he was singing Spanish songs to Carlos and dragging whoever was closest to him to the dance floor. Carlos knew how to handle Lando. But then Carlos bursted into a passionate speech about Ferrari and families, and at that point, it was Lando taking care of Carlos.

This isn't Jon and Lando's first rodeo. Lando's location is turned on, and despite a panicked five-minute call where Lando was convinced he was in danger, in some stranger's bed, gone back to somebody else's hotel suite, they've now established he's safe. Safe-ish. Lando ended the call with a yelp and a quick goodbye.

Nothing he hadn't done before, so. Alright.

Jon steps out of the elevator, following the tiny blip on his phone indicating where Lando is. Lando's not even far from his original room.

Someone calls out Jon's name. He turns. It's Kim, Oscar's physio. Oscar's former physio, Jon supposes. Abu Dhabi's his last race, and what a last race it was.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Kim says. They clasp each other's free hands, both holding bags in the other. Jon has his “Lando-pack”. Kim also has, what seems to be, hangover supplies.

“Oh, well, you know.”

Kim grins. “Yeah, I know.”

“Oscar has never really, uh, has he?”

They fall into step together. From what Lando tells Jon, Oscar's post-race celebrations usually include a drink or two, a nap in between, then a board game on the way back. Very different from Lando's.

“Not like this. Can't fault him,” Kim says.

“Letting him off the hook?”

“Hook's gone, mate. If he didn't go out, I would have dragged him. Mark's sent me to check up on the kid.”

Jon laughs, agreeing. Oscar's race had been fucked, but his season. Jesus Christ. His season was electric.

Jon consults his phone. Lando's stranger's suite should be somewhere around—

Jon and Kim stop at the same door.

“Oh,” Kim says.

Jon's headache thumps louder. “Is this..”

Kim shows him a keycard. “It's Oscar's room, yes. He booked a new one sometime at dawn.”

Fuck.

Jon pushes his glasses up, scratching his eyebrows. “So. Lando and Oscar.”

He's not sure what he wants to find out on the other side of the door, or what he doesn't. Jon knows Lando, but he doesn't know Oscar. Worse, he doesn't know how Lando and Oscar mix.

Kim nods, face equally serious. “Honestly, I just hope there was no bodily harm done.”

“Yeah, bodily harm sucks.” Lando's nose scar has faded now, but the immediate days after had been more hellish than they should've been.

“One way to find out.” Kim takes a deep breath and knocks to some beat, probably their own little knock code. He swipes the keycard.

Jon sends Lando a quick text, Kim and I are here. That's enough warning, right?

Tentatively, they push the door open and step into the room. The entrance wasn't trashed. A good sign. Maybe Oscar balanced out the highs Lando felt, bringing him back down. That would be nice.

“—Christ, fucking, just throw it on.”

“I don't get—”

“Not meant to get it, I'm being kind. This is me being kind, Osco.”

“Don't have to be kind if someone was able to control himself last night."

He and Kim exchange looks. Jon's too optimistic, seems like. That didn't sound like Oscar balancing Lando out.

They both cough loudly.

“Fucking hell, wait!” comes Lando's voice, cracking, from the bedroom. Jon can just about see the door cracked open from here. They're lucky they managed to lock the front door.

Then there's a loud thump, like the sound of a body hitting carpeted floor, and sure enough, Lando's shriek follows.

Kim looks more concerned than Jon is. Jon doesn't want to be traumatized any further.

But he's here to take care of Lando, yes? Even at the cost of his sanity and the HR department's.

“Lando, mate, we're going in,” Jon announces, “because that didn't sound good and…”

He trails off, finding Lando on the floor scrambling to get up, sheets wrapped around him. The only thing he's got on, apparently.

On the bed, Oscar's in an oversized hoodie that's definitely Lando's. Jon would know. He was there when Lando bought them.

Lando's horrified, Oscar can barely prop himself up, and Jon's sorry Kim has to deal with this for his last race.

“I have extra clothes,” Jon says, as calm as he can be. With Lando, Jon doesn't go all what-have-you-done or has-no-one-ever-told-you-not-to-fuck-your-teammate before they've had breakfast.

A quick scan of the room and its two inhabitants, ignoring evidence of whatever they got up, tells Jon no one was needlessly and violently hurt. Consolation prize.

(Lando has marks all across his skin and blooming bruises on his neck.)

“Thanks, Jon. Appreciate it. Because I was, uh, we were, I gave my clothes to Osc because desen— disen—”

“Decency,” Oscar supplies.

“Yeah, decency,” Lando explains, hands waving around, “for Osc.”

The problem, Jon thinks with his headache flaring up to unprecedented levels, is precisely that. Oscar is now Osc. Osco. What's the other one? Oscinha?

Also, where's Oscar's clothes? They better not find an Ebay listing for it in the future.

“And you, Oscar? You alright there?” Kim asks. He's a safe distance away from the bed.

“Sleepy,” Oscar says. He yawns into the sleeves of Lando's hoodie.

Kim smiles. He's taking this better than Jon expected.

Jon helps Lando back onto the bed, which might be a mistake, considering Oscar moves closer to Lando, bumping his head against Lando's sides.

“Ow, there's like, I've got a thing there. Your fault, by the way.”

“Never gonna hurt you again, uh-huh, sorry,” Oscar mutters, his voice growing softer. He slumps into Lando's lap, eyes closed.

“Osc, you can't be sleeping right now. Don’t leave me hanging in front of Kim and Jon.”

“Exhausted,” Oscar says. “Your fault, by the way.”

Jon and Kim really shouldn't be here. They're both clearly safe, far from whatever worst case scenario could've happened. Even booked a different hotel room to avoid other McLaren staff, families and friends.

“Not in danger, yeah?” Jon jokes.

“He was in the bathroom when I woke up, didn't know,” Lando groans. His hand starts playing with Oscar's hair. He probably doesn't even notice it. “Am I, like, do we wake him up?”

Kim laughs. “No ‘we’ in this situation, I'm afraid. I don't want to get murdered. Let him sleep it off for another hour. We'll give you two some privacy, return with more supplies.”

Lando's face flushes. “Thanks. Appreciate it.”

“So you keep saying,” Jon teases. “Rest up, champs. You deserve it.”

Lando's face shifts, pure joy across his features. His eyes are bright, flickering to Oscar. “Yeah, yeah we do.”