#i need to look thru all these and note which of her hands it is these happen w...

[wackywatchdotcom]

hm..... pomni taking peoples hand as a repeating image in the show..... happens in ep 1, with ragatha, its kinda evoked with her reaching for the final exit door, ep 2 is pretty blatant with it i dont need to say anything else on that, and in episode 3 the scene with kinger..... episode 4 doesnt have anything with this i dont think (i COULD technically say her raising her hand at the beginning of the ep but that is a MASSIVE stretch and doesnt fit with what the other instances seem to be representing. her waving at gummigoo MAYBE but the image just really isnt present in the episode, looking at it realistically) but im thinking about this...... cus i feel like its probably notable in the dream sequence in ep 2 that its her arm that gets all fucked up

[heedeungism]

𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

•°. *࿐ PAIRING ― riki nishimura x fem!reader •°. *࿐ SYNOPSIS ― in which riki is smitten with you and your sharp tongue. •°. *࿐ GENRE ― one-shot, friends-to-???, fake dating, angst, fluff, crack, rich kid au, highschool lacrosse au •°. *࿐ WORD COUNT ― 20.9k (yeah, i went kinda crazy) •°. *࿐ CONTENT WARNING(S) ― violence(fighting), cursing, high school, mc has a shitty ex-bf, cheating(not riki obviously), almond grandma(mentioned), a singular cigarette is smoked, mc is shorter than riki, riki can also pick mc up, suggestive jokes, kys jokes, mc has hair (texture and length unspecified, but can be put up), objectification of girls(not riki tho), mc objectifies boys back, dreamy riki, not suggestive or smutty but mc is absolutely a horndog, mc is her own worst enemy, mc using riki to get back at her ex but he likes it, i did not edit this lmao •°. *࿐ EXTRA NOTES ― inspired by euphoria and my hs experience, riki is a loser and a lover, implied that mc is 18, eunseok(riize) is an absolute asshole in this sorry guys i needed a villain, enha are all in the same grade, mc wears makeup and has a manicure of an unspecified length, mc has sick lore, also shoutout to my hg @1ntaks for digitally holding my hand thru this <3 •°. *࿐ SOUNDTRACK ― busy woman by sabrina carpenter, hiss by megan thee stallion, low by sza, i did something bad by taylor swift, without you by lana del rey, agora hills by doja cat, girls like me don’t cry by thuy, only girl (in the world) by rihanna, safety net by ariana grande, snooze by sza

part two

AT THE BEGINNING OF 2024, you lost for the first time in your life.

Finding your boyfriend of two years making out with a girl you know too well as Lee Nayeon, your best friend, on the Carrara marble countertop of your family home that you had trusted her to take care of for eight days while you were in New York was not on your New Year’s resolution. You had planned to stay to see the Times Square Ball Drop with your mom and stepdad, but you realized you’d prefer to spend it with your boyfriend.

He didn’t seem to share the same sentiment, considering he has his tongue down the traitorous bitch’s throat. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

She screams, both of them startled by your appearance and scrambling off of each other. You feel an urge to slam her face into the precious marble they were defiling, but you stay where you are. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“It isn’t what you think, babe—“

The speed at which Nayeon’s eyes filled with guilty and horrified tears fuels your rage, and behind you, Bahiyyih appears.

“Look who’s back—oh?” She stops beside you, arm hovering to wrap around you until she sees what you’re seeing. “Eunseok? Since when were you back from Stanford?”

“Since he’s been fucking Nayeon, apparently.” 

The barbie-haired girl’s eyes widen, and as she looks between the two she notices the same things you’re painfully aware of. Nayeon’s smeared lip gloss, her tears, Eunseok’s undone jeans, and the sparkly residue on his mouth. “Oh…”

Nayeon’s whimper as she slides off the counter snaps you out of your daze, “You’re crying?” The angry tears forming in your eyes go unshed as you walk closer to her, “You fuck my boyfriend, and you’re fucking crying?”

Anger turns to fury when the boy in question gets between you and her, pleading to let him explain, his hand grabbing your elbow to pull you away, only for you to jerk away, “Okay, I won’t touch you, just let me explain—“

“How long?”

“What? Babe, this isn’t-“

“How long have you been fucking him?” Your question is directed at who you thought was your friend, who avoids looking at you as she silently weeps. Scoffing, you realize you won't get a straight answer and choose to reel in your urge to beat her face in with one of your stepdad's bowling trophies that’s on display a few steps away. “Get out.”

“Babe, let me—“

The attempts at holding in your temper are lost on you, quickly forgotten as you walk over to the fireplace, grabbing the fire poker hanging up and holding it up. Nayeon lets out a scared, oh my God, while Eunseok tries to calm you down, demanding you put down the weapon. Instead of that, you walk past them, out the front door, ignoring Bahiyyih’s, “No, no, no—”

Eunseok’s red Mustang sits prettily in the driveway, and you can hear him realizing what you intend to do, but it’s too late for him. You slam the poker down onto the hood of his car, “Get. Out!”

“You crazy bitch, what is wrong with you?!” He screams, and you find yourself screaming back.

“Take your side piece and get. Out!” You slam the poker down again, and in minutes he’s got Nayeon in the passenger seat and is peeling out of your driveway like it’s on fire.

If rage had a physical human form, you would be it. Clenched jaw, a deadly weapon in your hands, and a white-hot fury in your eyes that promised to make those two regret crossing you.

The amount of junk food you have consumed in the last week would’ve sent your almond grandmother into an early grave. Your other friends had been visiting as often as possible to keep you from being alone in your thoughts for too long, offering to take you out or go shopping, yet the thought of possibly seeing either of those backstabbing fuckers in public made you sick to your stomach.

Pride didn’t allow you to cry, so instead of sadness and heartbreak, which you definitely felt but would never admit to, you felt pure seething fury.

“So I’ve been thinking,” You take a drag from the cherried slim between your fingers, exhaling towards the sky as you lean against the side of the pool.

From her spot on the lawn chair sunbathing, Belle says. “You can’t kill them.”

“I can, you’re just a party pooper.”

“The party should not include going to prison for murder.” Her statement makes you roll your eyes, “You aren’t built for prison, babe.”

“Well, that I can agree with,” You sigh, the water shifting around you as you turn to face her, arms resting on the edge, “but that wasn’t what I was thinking about.”

Pausing, you take one last drag from your cigarette before smothering it into the stone, “One of the things about him that pissed me off to no end was his temper, right?”

Remembering the many conversations and rants had and heard, Belle nods, “Mhm.”

“So what if I date someone I know will piss him off?”

“If that’s what you think will help you heal, then…” She trails off, and you groan.

“Why can’t you just say it’s an amazing idea?” 

“Girl…” Sighing, she asks, “I just don’t think a third party should be involved.”

“He already got one involved, so why can’t I?” 

Making a face that screams, well you’ve got a point, Belle then adds, “I think you should find someone who pisses him off but they should be aware of your plans. Don’t lead someone on.”

A cunning smile grows on your glossy lips, “I’m not.”

“Oh, so you already have someone in mind?” She gathers with a growing smile of disbelief, “Please tell me it isn’t one of his frat brothers.”

You grimace at the thought, “Ew, no. The only one of them remotely dateable is Wonbin and that’s meeting the bare minimum standards.”

Shrugging, Belle offers, “At least they're hot?”

“Hot does not equal dateable, plus I hardly believe any of them would date their friend’s ex anyway.” Shaking your head, you push yourself out of the pool and sit on the ledge to let yourself drip dry, “What about one of the lacrosse guys?”

“You say no to a frat boy but not a lacrosse player?” 

“I know, I know, but at least I have eyes on them instead of hoping they're being loyal in another city.” You put a hand above your eyes to block out the sun, “Me knowing the coach kind of helps, no?”

“If loyalty is your goal then good luck, bitch.” Belle snorts, sipping from the pink bendy straw sticking out of her Dr Pepper bottle, “Lacrosse players are mansluts.”

“I know that, but…” You push yourself to stand, grabbing the towel Belle holds out when she hears the sound of your feet leaving the water, her eyes still closed and covered by a pair of Prada sunglasses, “I have a few options.”

“The only, as you put it, ‘remotely dateable’-“ she emphasizes those two words with quotations using her perfectly manicured fingers, “-lacrosse players are Jay and Sunoo. Jay is taken and Sunoo friendzones every apretty girl he meets.”

“I don’t know, Jungwon’s cute.” You think aloud, placing a hand on your hip, “He’s just a tight ass.”

“And therefore undateable.” She finishes for you. “What about the baseball team?”

“Eunseok plays, I’m trying to not be reminded of him.”

Belle hums in acknowledgment, “Let me look at the Lacrosse team's insta.”

You pull the claw clip out of your hair as you wait, patting your body dry until she holds out her phone for you to look at. Taking it with your dry hand, you examine the team photo.

You recognize the majority of them, rolling your eyes at a few familiar ones before your eyes land on one particular member of the team you don’t recognize. “Who’s number 10?”

Handing it back, you walk over to the oversized Hall & Oates shirt you’d stolen from your brother’s room(he left a lot of his clothes when he moved out, something about ‘finding his style). You hear the tap of her nails on the screen a few times before she answers, “Some guy named Niki? Or Riki? He doesn’t have any posts on his profile but in the photos he’s tagged in he’s called either of those names.” She gasps, a cackle escaping her lips, “Some of these are his mom tagging him in baby photos, please come look!”

Leaning over, you peek at her screen, “Oh my god, I would die.” You can’t help but giggle as she scrolls, this woman’s Instagram is a gold mine of childhood photos of this guy. “Okay, I feel weird looking at his baby photos, show me the other ones he’s tagged in.”

“On it.” Belle affirms, “Let’s go inside, too.”

“Okay, so-“ Belle stands before a whiteboard, one that your stepdad used to use before upgrading his office to have a massive one mounted on the wall, a pink dry-erase marker uncapped in her hands as she looks down at her phone for reference. After a quick text to the group chat, a brief summary of your plan was explained when everyone got to your house, and it seemed that everyone was invested. “-are we all in attendance.”

Jongseob is eating cereal in the white tufted chair in the corner of your room, Eunchae is in the bean bag, and Bahiyyih is on the floor between them, lined up like a good audience. 

“We’re making a pros and cons list for Riki Nishimura,” Belle announces, writing his name on the whiteboard as ‘Niki’ between the two names, “feel free to interject when you have a pro or con to list.”

“Con,” Jongseob raises a finger with his mouth half full, swallowing before saying, “His nickname is stupid.”

“Opinions don’t count, stupid.” Eunchae rolls her eyes, earning the finger from the boy in the chair.

“But like, why is his nickname Niki?” Hiyyih asks, and Jongseon lets out a nearly intelligible ‘thank you!’.

“I assume it’s because there's another Riki on the team,” Belle guesses, and the three nod. You sip the Baja freeze you’d had them pick you up on the way to your house and hum.

“Make an ‘unsure’ column,” you instruct, and she does so, writing ‘nickname kinda dumb’ under it.

“Pro, he’s on the Lacrosse team so he’s fit,” Belle starts, writing it on the board under its labeled column.

“Con, he’s on the lacrosse team.”

A chorus of agreement accompanies it to its column.

“Pro, from the photos he’s tagged in and the team photo, he’s at least 6’.” Eunchae adds, Belle nods and writes ‘tall’.

“How can you tell?” Jongseob asks, and she rolls her eyes like his question is the most idiotic thing she’s ever heard.

“Because I pass Heeseung in the halls from 5th to 6th period and in these photos, this guy looks a little taller than him.” She explains, and you hold a hand up when Jongseob opens his mouth to insult her.

“Con, no instagram posts.”

“Pro, I just found a pic from Jake’s insta and I can see him in the back. He’s got abs.” (Thank you, Bahiyyih.)

By the time the sun has set, the whiteboard is packed, the pros heavily outweighing the cons. You had even searched the large group chat you were added into on Snap in freshman year full of girls you barely know who dated around and kept each other informed, and found his name zero times. 

“I think he’s the one.” You sigh.

Jongseob snorts, pulling the cherry soda vape from his lips and asking, “Why do you think Eunseok will hate him?”

“He hates Lacrosse guys ‘cause he didn’t make the team, I figured it would hit a soft spot.” You smile and shrug.

“Hold on, the plot thickens,” Bahiiyih announces, eyes on her phone screen. “Do you guys remember that guy Nayeon had a crush on in freshman year?”

A chorus of confirmation causes her to grin, “I’m pretty sure it was this guy.”

You push yourself off your bed to peek over her shoulder at record speed, “No fucking way. How do you know?”

“I backread in the group chat, and she sent a picture of him, look!” She turns her phone for everyone to see, and from the slightly blurry and oddly angled photo that she obviously tried to take secretly, you can certainly see a resemblance, “Am I hallucinating, or is that him?”

“No that definitely looks like him,” Belle agrees, turning her head to face you with her jaw slack and a look, “He’s the one.”

“How are we gonna convince him to fake date you, though?” Jongseob asks, and you roll your eyes.

“Leave the planning to those qualified, Seob.”

You, all things considered, would call yourself a professional at annoying men. From years of experience before your brother moved out, you learned every which way to annoy him, and more importantly, boys in general. You are also smart enough to understand that his best friend, Jungkook, is your ticket to getting closer to the lacrosse team, aka Riki, even if you have to deal with Jake’s flirting and Heeseung’s annoyingly beautiful smile, you will get through it purely out of spite. 

When you get to school extra early the day before the semester is set to start, parking your car and turning your sights to where you knew he took the team to practice in the mornings, and where you knew he would be even if he and your parents got back from New York just last night. “A hoe never gets cold.” You mumble the chant to yourself over and over as you turn off your car’s engine and the warm air stops blowing. 

You curse rather loudly when you open your door and are met with a frigid breeze that makes your body clench to preserve its warmth. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

With your school bag on your shoulder and a thick white puffy jacket lined with fleece that keeps your torso warm, you speed walk toward the field, which the student parking lot happens to be in relative close proximity to. 

The sight of you approaching is enough to stop a good half of the players in their laps around the field, a typical start to Jungkook’s diabolical training regimen. The distraction you pose catches the man of the hour’s attention, and when he turns to face the source, he seems shockingly displeased. With a barked order to keep running thrown at the stopped players, he turns to you again and asks, “What are you doing here?”

Your lips part in dramatic offense, “You seem unhappy to see me and I don’t appreciate it.”

Rolling his eyes and pulling two hotpacks from his bag on the ground and handing them to you, he repeats, “What are you doing at school so early?”

Shrugging, you shove your hands into your jacket pockets and glance at the team, catching the eye of Sunoo and winking as he passes by. “I’m bored and single. What better way to spend my time than watching lacrosse players train in frozen hell?”

Jungkook’s face tells you he’s far less than impressed, and he seems at a loss for words. You decide to let him in on your plan, not seeing any harm in doing so.

“Okay, I’m trying to ruin Eunseok's day, every day, by reminding him I have a hotter, taller, and more athletically skilled boyfriend than he ever was or could be,” You start, “And I’m calling in a favor.”

“What favor? You don’t do shit—“

“Okay then, tell me more about him or I’ll tell my brother about what really happened to his Audi last Christmas.” The Audi in question had a large scuff on the back bumper that Jungkook had paid you three hundred dollars to take the blame for, which while your brother was upset, you knew he’d be far angrier if he knew the truth. Jungkook knew that too.

If the cold wasn’t already doing the job, you would say he lost all color in his face. A sweet smile forms on your lips, and you take the moment of his speechless horror to take another glance at the team. 

When you meet the eyes of the familiar boy in a dark red hoodie with the number 10 on it you feel your face warm up involuntarily. Instinctively, you swallow the nervous lump in your throat, something that’s never happened to you, and quickly turn back to the coach (not before catching sight of the slight tug at the corner of #10’s plump lips). “So?”

Jungkook sighs, “Which one?”

“Number 10.”

Immediately, the man shakes his head, “Nuh-uh.” At the raise of one of your eyebrows, he quickly explains, “He’s one of my best players, I don’t need him being distracted by my best friend’s kid sister.”

You roll your eyes, “If you have a better option for me, then please, do share.”

“What about Jungwon?” 

“Tight ass,” You say barely a breath later, eyes watching said player jog past, lingering on his backside as he moves away, “In more ways than one.”

“Okay, stop.” Jungkook says, disgust on his face, “What about Taehyun.”

“He’s Dr. Evil and Jungwon is his mini-me, they’re both so strict they’d never agree.”

He makes a face, point heard, before suggesting one last player in a last-ditch effort, “Jak—”

“If the name Jake Sim leaves your mouth I’m setting your Mercedes on fire.” 

His mouth shuts automatically, and he sighs. 

“So, tell me about him.”

“Why don’t you go ask?”

You give him a look that read, don’t be fucking stupid.

“Ugh, fine. What do you wanna know?” Jungkook caves, blowing the whistle around his neck, signaling the team to start the next warmup, pushups. 

“What’s his favorite color?” You ask, obviously pulling his leg considering the grin on your face.

“Nishimura!” He immediately calls, and number 10 looks up from his position on the ground. You don’t look longer than a moment, your spine straightening up automatically when his eyes meet yours once again, “What’s your favorite color?”

You don’t look, but you can bet money that he probably looks confused considering your brother’s best friend tells him to ‘just answer the damn question’, and then you hear his voice. 

“Black.”

Fuck, this is bad. The little shit in you wants to say that black isn’t technically a color, that it’s the absence of such, but the thought of looking at him and saying something like that makes your palms go clammy and your heart beat out of your chest. His voice is deep, and with the exertion in it from the warmup, you think you might just have to throw yourself into an active volcano.

“Mine is green, coach!” 

“I didn’t ask, Huening.” Your lips flatten, your hand flying to cover your mouth as you try not to giggle. Instinctively, you look at Kai, whose ears have gone red in embarrassment, and you take pity.

“I like green too, Kai.” You say loudly for him to hear, and his head perks up to look at you.

“I like blue!” Jake pipes in, all too eager to include himself.

“Nobody asked, Jake.” Jay grunts, on his hundredth push-up and losing patience.

Jungkook blows the whistle again, “Burpees.”

“You’re a monster.” You muse, watching the team lose all faith in a heavenly being as they do what he says. Every jump grants you the sight of rock-hard abs, so you're not really complaining. 

“Stop ogling the team, it’s gross.” Jungkook hisses, “What else do you want to know?”

“Girlfriend?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Type?”

He makes a face, “I don’t know. He’s a teenager, probably anything that breathes in his direction.” 

“Age?”

“Turned 18 in December, the team threw him a pizza party.”

“Beginning or end of December?” You ask quizzically.

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook huffs, “Why does it matter?”

“I need to know if I’m dealing with a Sagittarius or a Capricorn. Please, please, tell me he isn’t a Capricorn.”

“Jesus Christ…” Thinking about it, Jungkook answers, “I think it was in the first week?”

A sigh of relief leaves you, “Thank god. I cannot stand an earth sign.”

“I’m an earth sign.” 

“And it took me ages to forgive you for that.”

“Okay, go away.” Jungkook shakes his head, obviously annoyed and desperate to get rid of you.

“But I’m not—“

“Nishimura.” Dread fills you, and before you can stop him from opening his mouth again, number 10 stands up.

“Yeah, Coach?”

“Walk this one to her car.”

Confusion is etched on his pretty face, but he nods, jogging over as you curse at Jungkook quietly enough for him and the lord to hear but not the approaching lacrosse player.

When he stands just a few feet away, waiting for you to start walking with him, you turn to face him and feel a jolt in your stomach. He’s tall. 

You already knew this but seeing it with your eyes is a different experience than seeing photos of it. Get a grip, bitch.

Offering him a condescending smile, a defense mechanism to keep yourself from humiliating yourself by showing how affected you are, you shoot your brother’s friend the finger and begin to make your way off the field.

You pass Riki, not even sparing him a look as you do so, but listening to make sure he’s following. With his much longer legs, it isn’t long before he’s walking just slightly behind you, not at your side but close enough for you to sense his presence. When you make it to your car in what felt like awkward silence to you but was probably nothing to him, you heave a sigh of relief when she unlocks and you open the door. 

Not sitting yourself inside yet, despite the cold and the fact your body hurts from it, you turn to face him.

“This yours?” He asks. God, that voice again.

You hum in confirmation, “Her name is Manon.” 

“Nice name.” He compliments, and you tilt your head, looking between his eyes and glancing down to his mouth every so often. He swallows almost unnoticeably, “What’s yours?”

Resisting the urge to ask if he truly didn’t know, you conclude that would sound far too conceited, and tell him your name. 

He tries it out, and you can see the tip of his tongue flick across his teeth before he says, “I’m Riki.”

“I know.” You say shamelessly, “You can go back to practice, now.”

If you didn’t know any better, you would think the slight smirk that tugs at his lips is of annoyance, but with the way his eyes look down your face every other second, you know exactly what you’re doing. He blinks, turning his body slightly to walk away, “Yeah.”

You wait until his back is to you to slide into your driver’s seat, quickly pulling your phone out to text the group chat.

bitchqueen: guys this is bad

bitchqueen: he’s HOT

bitchqueen: i can’t do this 

Glancing back up to see if Riki left, you sigh in relief when he’s nowhere to be found. You look back down when your phone dings. bellenotdelphine: eunseok bought nayeon a van cleef bracelet

bitchqueen: okay bitches im back

myrootcame2005: ur resolve inspires generations

Going back to school wasn’t so bad, or at least it isn’t as bad you thought it would be. You were the only licensed driver in your friend group, and as such you expected to have a full car every morning, picking up Belle first as she lived down the street, and then Jongseob and Eunchae, who grew up neighbors in a neighborhood you pass on the way to school. Bahiyyih usually gets a ride with her brother, though she does complain his truck still smells like the musky car freshener he spilled back when he got it.

After parking and putting on your shoes that you’d taken off because you hate driving with them on, you had Belle hand you your backpack from at her feet and the four of you exited the car into the frigid weather. “Jesus fuck, why is it so cold?”

Belle huddled by you as you sped walked to the school doors, where you finally took notice of the stares directed your way. Ignoring the staring was the easy part, having a freshman walk up to you and ask, “Hey, is it true you destroyed your boyfriend’s car with a crowbar?” was hard to avoid.

Belle seems ready to tell them to fuck off but you smile sweetly, “It was a fire poker, actually, and destroyed is a strong word. Also, who the fuck are you?”

You got in enough trouble with your parents when they found out, these people could at least get the facts right. When the 14 year old boy opens his mouth to answer, you make a face, “I don’t actually care.”

Ignoring that encounter, you would say it was a relatively normal day. AP classes already gave you packets and mounds of homework, but with the semester classes you took last year you only had 5 periods of the day before being allowed to go home, perks of being a senior, you guess. The fact almost every class you had was an AP class was a definite downside, though.

The only AP class you didn’t have happened to be Medical Microbiology, which you had dreaded to take but it was the same teacher you had last semester for A&P who loved you enough to exempt you from the final without you having to submit the form like everyone else, and luck was on your side it seemed because while you were seething to find that Nayeon was in your 5th period class, the sight of the seating chart and the name labeled next to yours made you decide to postpone ingesting whatever deadly chemical Mrs. Wilson had in her locked cabinet.

Nishimura, Riki

The short curly-haired woman seemed overjoyed to see you, of course, and like clockwork you handed her a small pink box containing her favored cookie from the shop down the road, earning yourself a nice sidehug. 

You know a way to a teacher's heart, which had made your high school experience better than most could imagine, though Mrs. Brooks from Pre-AP English freshman year was a cunt and you gave up on making her like you within the first month. Sitting down at your seat, which happened to be somewhat close to her desk, you were looking down at the packet she’d left stacked on the table by the door for students to take from as they came in when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

Growing up with a brother gave you a good understanding of how boys worked, and when you saw no one in your periphery, you looked to the opposite side, seeing the familiar lacrosse player. You dread small talk, though when the late bell rings as he sits down, you thank the heavens you don’t have to. 

Moving your hair off your shoulder, you took a pink mechanical pencil from your matching pencil case as Mrs. Wilson started speaking.

“Hey.” He leans ever so closer, whispering to get your attention, “Can I borrow a pencil?”

The raised eyebrow you send his way makes his raise his own, and you roll your eyes, grabbing one of the orange ones you never used and handing it to him, when you notice his look between the two pencils, you say, “Can’t risk you taking one of my good ones.”

He rolls his eyes this time, but starts writing his name with it anyway. At first, he uses his right hand, but ten minutes into the lecture about the staining process, he switches hands.

It isn’t annoying until he starts intentionally brushing your elbow with his own, and you know it’s intentional because when the word you’re writing comes out jagged and you look at him, he has a smug look on his face while avoiding meeting your eyes, snickering softly when you erase the word you deemed too ugly to continue writing. You turn in your seat, facing away from him and rotating your paper with you as you cross one leg over the other, it was easier writing this way anyway.

With your new angle, you can see Nayeon glancing over every now and then in the corner of your eye. 

Now, to say your reputation wasn’t ruined but in fact reinforced by everyone finding out about what you did to Eunseok’s car, was a factual statement. You didn’t like the term ‘anger management issues’ which is what the therapist your mother made you see last year used to describe your behavior. 

In your humble opinion, Jaclyn Delvacchio deserved the bruise you left on her brow bone and is honestly lucky you didn’t get a good enough hit in before the history teacher pulled you off of her, maybe she should’ve kept her mouth shut about Eunchae’s braces.

Then, there was Kaley Graham in your freshman year, a sophomore who told you to stay away from your then-situationship, Eunseok, to which you responded to her threats by grabbing her head and slamming her face into the window of an active classroom. You thought the photos of her face smashed against it were funny, the school and your suddenly-present father did not.

So really, you’re already labeled a crazy bitch, violent, ‘untameable’(as you'd heard uttered by boys you wouldn't touch with a twenty foot pole). You might as well act like it.

When the bell rings 45 minutes later, you breathe a sigh of relief, finally time to go home.

You don’t notice he’s waiting for you until you’ve gathered your things and taken your keys out. He leans against his desk, waiting for you with observant eyes that land on the key-fob in your hand before moving up to your eyes. “Free period?”

You nod, “as are the next two.”

He whistles low as the both of you walk out, “I didn’t get any free periods, you’re lucky.”

“Lacrosse?” You ask, and he nods with a small grimace.

“And I failed Chem last year, so I’ve got to take it again.” He sighs, “I’m not great with all the math.”

“AP?” You ask innocently, and he snorts.

“God no. Regular.” He states, raising a brow as he adds, “Did you take AP?”

You hum, nodding, “Yeah.”

“So, if I come to you with a radiation equation, would you help me?” He asks in a way that almost feels teasing.

“It’s called a nuclear equation, and I suppose I could be persuaded.” You stop in front of the double doors at the front of the school, and from how others are rushing through the halls you assume the bell is going to ring soon.

“Could I try to persuade you after lacrosse practice? I’m gonna be late for Chem.” He says, though his tone is anything but worried, just like the smirk on his face.

“There’s a cafe next to the nail salon down the road, I might be there when lacrosse practice is over.” You hint, before turning to leave without another word.

After texting the group chat about the plan to meet up with Riki after his practice ends, you felt good. Flirting came easy, especially when you wanted something, which obviously was the case with him, but you weren’t oblivious to the fact he was flirting back. 

hueningbarbie: damn u act fast

bitchqueen: i'm just a girl who knows what she wants and gets it ;)

hongchae: do you think he’ll agree?

bitchqueen: if he doesnt i think jake is my only other option

bitchqueen: killing myself means i let them win

bellenotdelphine: jake is NEVER the only option

bellenotdelphine: hang in there queen

You sit in a worn out booth facing the big wall of windows lining the front of the hole-in-the-wall cafe. Part of you regrets choosing it considering Gloria, the old lady who always takes your order and brings you your food, seemed all too excited when you said you were waiting for a boy that wasn’t Eunseok. 

You try not to look up every time you see a car pull into the strip center of cafes and food joints, only glancing when you see a black Jeep pull into the parking spot next to your car, quickly acting like you weren’t looking when the familiar lacrosse player hopped out of it with wet hair and the same sweatshirt with his jersey number and name on it.

It isn’t until he slides into the booth across from yours that you look up from the menu you weren’t even reading, “How was practice?”

He sighs, leaning back into the booth and you feel his shoe brush yours, “Coach had me on offense,” he says, rubbing his side with a wince.

“Want some tiger balm?” You ask nonchalantly, reaching into your purse to pull out the small container of it you keep to help with the pain you get from looking down and taking notes, not to mention scrolling through social media, too.

He takes it with a whispered please, and you try not to watch as he moves his hand under his shirt to rub it in. Bahiyyih was right.

“Any drinks, mija?” Gloria appears beside your booth with a knowing look on her face as she looks between you two, “and you?”

“Dr Pepper, please.” You order with a smile, and she affectionately rubs your arm with a nod before looking at Riki, who repeats you.

When Gloria walks away to get the drinks, Riki seems curious, “I come here a lot.”

Nodding, he says, “I figured. What’s good, here?”

“Oh, everything is good. Do you recognize anything on the menu?” When he shakes his head, you try not to act offended, and say, “The enchiladas are really good, but if you’re picky I would get the tacos.”

“Mm, I’ll get an enchi-“ he struggles to mimic your pronunciation of the word, and you laugh quietly.

“Enchiladas?” You ask with a cheeky smile, and he scrunches his face up in shame, “It’s okay, it’s hard to say.”

“You’re good at it.” He states, not an opinion, a fact.

“I am.” You agree, and the smile on his face is enough to send your heart into your throat. Get. A. Grip. “Like I said, I come here a lot.”

“So, what do I have to do to persuade you to help me pass Chem?” He asks after Gloria sets down your drinks and takes your orders(sending you a hidden wink as she turns to walk into the kitchen), and you realize now's the time to bring up your plan.

“So, I actually have a proposition for you.” You admit, and he leans forward a little, curious to hear it. When you say it, albeit a slow and awkward version of what you intended to say as the nerves got the better of you because of that damn look in his eyes, you swear you almost see his face drop a little. 

“So you want to…fake date? To make your ex jealous.” He sounds unsure, and you quickly shake your head.

“Not jealous, I kinda just want to ruin his day...everyday.” You state, “I’m the crazy bitch, you’re the hot athlete. Match made in heaven, right?”

He seems to take the ‘hot’ comment well, crossing his arms and tilting his head, “So, what are the rules? If we’re dating, do we have to go all out or just spread the word?”

“Spreading the word only works for so long,” you say, pleased by his question, “Kissing is a bit much, especially since it’s only been a few weeks since I dumped him. If we move too fast everyone will think you’re my rebound. We should take it slow.”

“So…” he thinks for a second, “Holding hands?”

You hum in agreement, “Get me flowers, too.”

“What’s your favorite kind?” The question shouldn’t throw you off, but it hits you rather suddenly that you’d never been asked that by a guy, especially not Eunseok. 

“Lilies.” You say, “And baby’s breath.”

He nods, taking a mental note of that just as Gloria comes out with your food. The enchiladas were a win, he devoured them like he hadn’t eaten for years, though there was a pause in the process when he insisted on trying the salsa you had poured generously over your own food, which was far too spicy for him, to your delight.

You exchanged numbers outside of the restaurant after paying(he had picked up the bill before you could grab it), and as you were putting a name to his number, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

Laughing at the look on your face, he subtly motions behind you, and when you glance back you find about five girls no older than 16 piled into a Corolla and staring, but snapping their eyes away and hiding when you meet their gazes.

Turning back to him, you swallow the sudden lump in your throat when you see he’s already looking at you.

“Good catch.” You cough, ignoring the smug smirk growing in his face, “I’ll text you.”

“Okay.” He says, waiting for you to move away before he does, and you find yourself sucking in a deep breath and turning to get into your car.

“So he agreed?” Belle asks from the passenger seat of your car, “I told you, teenage boys are easy.”

You pull into your parking spot in the school lot, pulling down the ugly parking pass they make you hang from the rearview mirror that you always tuck back up when you leave because it's an eyesore, “We tried to work out the technicalities last night but I fell asleep on the phone.” 

Eunchae gasps as if scandalized, “You fell asleep on the phone with him? That’s so cute.”

You groan, “I know, it’s embarrassing!” Getting out of your car, you try to withhold a groan when you immediately spot Jake practically skipping over, a cheeky grin on his face. Shit.

You don’t hide your displeasure when he calls your name, shooting a giggling Belle the finger before turning to give him attention you know you’d regret, “You and Niki?”

“Is that any of your business?” 

He starts giggling, the grin on his face widening as he starts hopping around like an excited puppy, “No way! You gotta tell me how he fi—“

“Jake!” A girl from the cheer squad calls his name from across the courtyard, and he whirls around to wave with a flirty smile.

By the time he turns back to you, you’re already walking away with the girls. “We’re talking about it in 2nd!”

“No we’re not!” You call back, waving your hand dismissively. Eunchae snorts, hooking her arm with yours as the three of you walk through the entrance. Jongseob had come in early with his other friend group for club prep, so his presence is sorely missed. 

“Do you think he’ll get you flowers?” The junior on your arm asks, and you shrug.

“I mean, maybe.” Your answer makes Belle roll her eyes.

“Manifest it, or…” She stops in front of your 1st class of the day, ready to drop you off, and a grin overtakes her face, “Bitch.”

You step closer to see when she sees, and at your assigned seat is a bouquet of the same flowers you told Riki you liked, pink and white lilies with baby's breath sprinkled in. Habitually, you bite your lip to withhold the smile, sliding your arm out from Eunchae’s and walking in.

The girl who sits next to you, Hikaru, has an almost fox-like grin on her face as she sees you finally arrive. She says a few things that you hum in response to as you pluck the tiny folded card from between the blossoms, opening it and allowing Belle and Eunchae to peek over your shoulder to read it with you. “Shut up!” Belle practically squeals.

For: Pretty

“God.” You sigh, closing the note and grabbing the bouquet from Eunchae who had picked it up to smell them, “I wonder where he got these.”

“I don’t know but they look expensive.” Belle muses with a grin and you hum in agreement with a smile.

A text tone dings from your phone, a familiar one that makes you groan. When you look at your screen your jaw clenches and shifts.

spermdonor: lunch? we need to catch up.

You suspect your mom told him about how you get off early now, cursing the woman mentally as you send back a simple thumbs up to her ex-husband. 

Between 1st and 2nd period, you had put the bouquet in your car to avoid walking around with it, and you’re so very thankful you did with the annoying grin on Jake’s face as you sat across from him in College Algebra.

“You and Niki.” He repeats with a cheeky raise of his brows, his grin unaffected by the look of utter distaste on your face at his presence.

“What about Riki and me?” You ask monotonously, clearly unimpressed with the prompt.  

“You guys datin’?” He asks cheekily, clearly already aware that you went on a ‘date’, but wanting to hear it from you.

“If I say we went on a singular date will you leave me alone?” You ask with a sigh, using your knuckle to massage your temple.

Jake shakes his head with a shit-eating grin, “Not a chance.”

You groan softly as the bell rings, and the sigh of relief is quickly smothered with your hopes of escaping this period without having to answer a question as a familiar substitute walks in, Mr. Morrell, a nice old man who usually just lets everyone do their own thing. He’s your mortal enemy now, you’ve decided.

The moment he announces those wretched words, ‘free day’, your fate is sealed.

Jake is snickering like a freak, leaning over his desk as if you aren’t just a few feet away from him, “You and Riki.” He giggles, and you look at him as if he’s possessed and it disgusts you.

“Please, leave me alone.” You say with a bit more emotion than your last few words.

Jake is too busy giggling like a little girl to listen or even hear what you said, nearly cutting you off as he asks, “Where was your first date?” 

“The Mexican place next to the nail salon down the street.” You answer monotonously, just wanting to get it over with at this point.

“Did he pay? He paid.” Jake asks then nods to himself as he says the last statement.

“Yes, he paid.” 

“Ooo, did he kiss you? Nah, Niki’s way too pussy to do that—“

You cut him off with an invisible twitch of your brow, “He gave me a solid kiss on the cheek.”

It’s as if you’ve broken the already clearly leaking dam of pure giddy delight. He’s practically squealing with a breathy and high-pitched ‘naur way~’, whipping out his phone you assume to text their group chat. He’s bouncing in his seat, and you make a face as you pull your desk an inch away from his desk to stop feeling the movements.

You open your coloring book you bring with you to classes when you have no other work, you have other work but you’d rather not do that while Jake giggles and grills you.

The rest of the period is filled with him asking questions you either answer shortly or choose to not answer at all. (“Do you think he’s the one?”)

You of course could not see was that across the campus Riki was hiding his phone in his lap wanting to sink into a hole and die as Jake spams the team group chat like a live tweet of his, though strongly condemned by him, weirdly thorough interview like your barely started kind-of-relationship is his favorite sitcom.

“Thank you, lord.” you sigh as the bell rings, freeing you of your torment as you grab your gathered and organized bag to pull over your shoulder and hasten out of the classroom before Jake can get you. (Yes, like a boogeyman.)

It seems you can’t catch a break as you find out Park Sunghoon is in your 4th period. Park Sunghoon, jersey number 23, goalkeeper of the Decelis Demons. Also, you’ve decided, another mortal enemy. 

You don’t even know how you hadn’t noticed him all semester or the semester prior, given how awkwardly talkative he is. Sitting beside you with a cute but unsettling smile, holding out his hand like he was meeting a celebrity, which you weren’t exactly complaining about but the smile was weird. He was almost just as bad as Jake, if not worse simply because he freaked you out a bit. Seriously, why is someone so beautiful so fucking weird. His moles look like constellations but something about his vibes unsettle you.

It isn’t like you don’t have weird friends, you’ve watched Jongseob stuff fifty chile-coated gushers into his mouth purely because Eunchae told him he couldn’t. Weird usually isn’t the issue, except it is in this scenario. 

Escaping him and getting to go to your teacher’s aid period was like a shining of heaven’s pure light on you. You find yourself grading papers in the back of the classroom while your freshman-year Latin teacher plays Hercules in New York on the projector, a purple glitter pen in your hand as you go through the stack of exams.

“Hey,” one of the freshmen a cluster of desks away calls to you in a semi-hushed voice, halting the movement of your glitter pen and directing your attention to them, “your boyfriend’s waiting at the door.”

‘I don’t have a boyfriend’, parts your lips before you suddenly remember that Riki exists and halt before it can leave them. Looking to the closed door of the classroom, you find the boy in question peering through the small window in the door, and raise an inquisitive brow.

He only waves at you, a clear signal he wants you to come out and talk to him, part of you wonders why he knew where you were but memories of the phone call the night you both agreed on the whole ‘fake dating’ thing, exchanging school schedules and discussing preferences, come back to you and you nod lightly.

Mrs. B looks up from her laptop as you cap the glitter pen, “Don’t be gone too long.” 

Shooting her a smile and a small ‘yes ma’am, thank you’, you get up from the desk and shoot the snickering freshmen a weak glare as you walk to the door, opening it just enough to side step out of the room and shut it behind you.

“Hey.” is the first thing he says, his voice is deep despite its softness, mindful of the other classes going on in the language hall as well as the other teens clearly trying to get a good look at him as the door closes behind you.

You say it back just as softly, “Hey.”

He smiles just a bit, a boyish quirk of his lips that has your heart picking up, get a fucking grip, bitch. “I’m sorry about Jake and Sunghoon.”

The mention of them has you pressing your lips together with a nearly-sympathetic smile, “It’s okay.”

“No, they’re…a lot.” He chuckles softly, though his words are still genuine, “I don’t want you to get scared away.”

Something in your heart flutters, “Don’t worry about it.” You say with a soft laugh that has his eyes darting to your smile. “Sunghoon was…weird, but I already knew that Jake’s a pest, so…”

He laughs at your words, head shaking slightly, “Still, I’m sorry about them.”

“It’s fine, really.” You say with a shake of your head. A student exits the Spanish class down the hall, pausing at the sight of you and Riki before walking in the direction of the bathrooms. 

Riki spares them little more than a brief glance over at the sound of the door shutting behind them before his gaze is back on you. God, why is he looking at me like that, you think just before he speaks again, “Do you bowl?”

The question catches you off guard, and you tilt your head and ask, “Like do I know how or do I do it often?”

“Both.”

“Kinda and no.” You answer, “Why?”

He brings a hand up to rub the back of his head, your eyes darting to the way the sleeves of his t-shirt stretch to accommodate the movements of his arm and a few veins are visible up his arm, “Some of the guys and I were going this weekend, I…figured I’d ask.” 

His words are finished with a bit of hesitance that you have little time to linger on as you question with a slight laugh, “Did they ask you to bring me?” 

You see a slight pink tinge to the tips of his ears as his elbow drops yet his hand lingers on his trapezius, creating yet another visual that has you wanting to repeatedly slam your forehead into the wall beside you. He shakes his head slightly, “No, I, uh, wanted to bring you.”

The words are said with a soft laugh like he’s a bit embarrassed with himself, and you find your teeth catching your bottom lip to hold in the despicable grin that you know should not be growing on your face right now. You just broke up with your long-term boyfriend, wake up.

If Riki’s eyes dart to your lips, you don’t see it as you glance to the door of your class. “Then…yeah. I’ll come.” 

Your answer has his lips forming a pretty grin that he quickly covers up with a bite of his bottom lip and a nod, taking a step back as he prepares to leave, “Cool. I can pick you up, yeah?”

Yeah, you can. You nod, “Just text me.”

“Yeah, I’ll text you.” He finishes with another nod, and you giggle softly at his repetition. His eyes soften at the sound, another thing you don’t notice as you see the student returning from the bathrooms, glancing your way every so often as they approach the closed Spanish class door. 

Riki sees them too, and as they look over again, he leans down to press his lips to your cheek in a quick but sweet kiss, “See you next period.”

He shoots you a swift wink as he backs up again, and you put it together that he kissed you because of the third party in the hall. You exhale a soft response as he turns to jog off, clearly not meant to be gone from class as long as he has been, “Yeah.”

As soon as he turns the corner and you’re alone in the hall, you close your eyes for a long blink to bring yourself back to Earth. A soft curse leaves your lips as you turn back to the door to re-enter the Latin class, heart racing and hands slightly clammy. 

Clammy. 

The fact that a boy is making you feel so damn juvenile with the way you can’t help but react to his words and face and voice and eyes—

The walk to 5th period fills you with a sense of dread before you remember who else is in that class. Mrs. Wilson greets you happily as she sets up the activity for the day on the projector, which alerts you to the fact someone is standing by your seat who doesn’t belong there.

Riki has a look of confusion on his face as he looks up at Nayeon, clearly a bit confused by whatever is leaving her lips. The teacher’s greeting alerts the both of them to your presence in the doorway, where you paused at the sight of her. The corners of Riki’s lips quirk up at the sight of you, but Nayeon looks like she’s about to puke.

You don’t even speak. Something about the sight of pure panic in her eyes gives you a boost of serotonin but the fact that she’s standing in front of your ‘boyfriend's desk, speaking to him. Oh, you’re pissed. 

Yes, you are aware he isn’t actually your boyfriend and the two of you hadn’t even discussed publicly referring to each other as such, but the principle still stands. You want to punch her face.

Unfortunately, Mrs Wilson would be quite upset if you slammed Nayeon’s head into the whiteboard, and you like your teacher too much to debate starting a fight in her class. 

Your eyes follow Nayeon’s every move as she hastily removes her hands from where they were on his desk, avoiding your burning stare as she moves to her own seat. 

Walking to your desk, you smile at Riki as if what just happened has zero effect on you despite the burning fury in your gut, and sit down beside him. “Hey.”

Your soft greeting has him saying it in kind, shifting in his seat to lean back and see you better, “You know her?”

His question has you tilting your head in a faux innocence, “Mhm. Why?”

Riki has a slight knowing look on his face as he watches your reactions, “She had a lot to say about you.”

“What did she say?” You ask as if it’s a simple question, like you aren’t dying to know and anxiety isn’t clawing at your chest making it harder and harder to make your hands not shake. 

He shrugs with a purse of his lips, a slightly cheeky smile forms on his face as he asks, “You jealous?”

A scoff leaves your lips and your eyes roll before you can even think to hold the sass back, “Jealousy implies she’s better than me in some way.” You say with a defiant cross of your arms, “and she is not.”

“Then why’d you glare so hard?” He asks, clearly amused by both your words and body language.

You think, why did I not tell him about Nayeon?

The answer? Eunseok and Nayeon’s little affair had more of an effect on you than you would like to admit. Anxiety claws at you everytime you even imagine Nayeon interacting with Riki, and the fact that you just walked in on her saying something to him that your pride won’t allow you to ask him about just makes it all so much worse for you. 

The truth is that the irrational part of your brain, the one that often wins the battles against its more logical other half, made the thought of Riki knowing you were betrayed by your best friend all the more sickening to imagine. It’s embarrassing. Humiliating. 

“I wasn’t glaring.” You argue, and Riki raises his brows as if to say ‘really?’ before he huffs softly in amusement and the bell rings.

“Yeah, you were.” He says with a lingering curiosity in his gaze before he looks to the board as Mrs Wilson starts class. Your first instinct is to argue, to be stubborn like you always are, but the lingering anxiety in your chest makes you want to never speak again just to find some kind of peace.

The entire time you take notes you aren’t truly absorbing any information, your brain is stuck on every possible thing that Nayeon could have said to him and how you’re gonna find out without directly asking either of them if possible.

You feel sick and he’s not even your real boyfriend.

Oh, fuck.

Between realizing you want Riki and remembering that you have to go to lunch with your father, you simply didn’t have enough time to achieve as much mental preparation as you’d like before lunch. The Italian restaurant you find yourself sitting inside with a menu in your manicured hands is a relatively ‘fancy’ establishment, at least if the $35 fettuccini alfredo was anything to go by.

Your dad is the one paying, so you aren’t all that mad about the prices considering the look in his eyes is enough to ruin your enjoyment of the basket of breadsticks between the two of you. If you thought it would make a dent in his bank account you’d order another plate of mozzarella sticks just to spend his money, but the satisfaction just wouldn’t be there. 

Punching his face might feel better.

“Am I gonna have to put you in anger management again?” His anger is hushed and composed, but the shift in his jaw and the patronizing look of disappointment on his face belied his composure. Always being hyper-aware of how people view him is one of the things you hate about your dad. His attitude takes a higher spot on the ‘Why You Hate Your Dad’ pyramid, though. 

“You can’t ‘put me’ anywhere.” You bite back as you dip the breadstick in your hand into the small bowl of marinara, “Eunseok deserved it.”

“You don’t get to decide what people deserve.” He argues, still so patronizing.

The feeling of being talked down to is one you're all too familiar with when it comes to your father. The man can’t accept his own faults, one of which being how shit of a father he was and is. You roll your eyes as you take a bite of your breadstick, half-drowning his words out with your own and the other half remembering every single thing coming from his lips to throw back in his face next time he cries about how you never reach out to him. 

“Eunseok is a smart and successful, young man. And you throw it all away for—“

Ah, you almost forgot how much more your father likes your ex than you. Offering him internships, a place at his firm when he graduates, none of which he’d ever even mentioned to you. You wouldn’t ever work for or with your father, but the fact he had never spoken a word about any chances to help you gain experience like he did your ex was as infuriating as it was unsurprising.

“I didn’t throw shit away.” You snap, “He cheated on me, you keep skimming over that detail, father.”

“I’m not skimming over it, it’s irrelavent.” He exhales, trying to calm his slightly raised voice, “And you know I hate it when you call me that..”

“Irrelevant? Oh, I’m sorry, should I have stayed with a boyfriend that sleeps with my best friend?” You scoff, sipping your Dr Pepper, “And if you wanted me to call you dad, you should've acted like one.”

“Hey.” He warns, yet you only roll your eyes. “Reaching out goes both ways—“

“I know you did not just say that to me.” 

“—and I am your father, so you speak to me with respect.” He finishes, voice raising slightly in frustration before he settles it back to a more composed volume.

“No.” You shake your head, “That’s not how shit works.”

“Yes,” He bites back sternly, “If you want me to keep funding your life you’ll—“

Normally, you let your father say whatever it is he wants to say, tell him you really don’t care what he thinks and then for about a month he doesn’t text you. Then it’s ‘I want to improve our relationship’ and ‘I feel like you’re drifting away’. Today was not a normal day, however.

“Then cut me off.” You say with a shrug, “You can’t hold that shit over my head like I ask for the money you send, which you only send because you know you’re a shit father and you feel guilty.”

He doesn't respond, his jaw shifting, so you continue. 

“And considering the fact that you are a cheater yourself, why the fuck would I listen to a word you say when it comes to my own love life?” You ask, not really caring that you aren’t exactly speaking quietly, “Eunseok deserved a fire poker to the face, and I used it on his car instead. Which is what Mom should have done when she found you with the nanny.”

“Quiet down, you’re making a scene.” He hisses, and you tilt your head and look around as if you give a single fuck. “I already took care of Eunseok’s car, which will be taken out of your allowance—“

Your eyes narrow at his words, “You paid to repair his car?”

Your father doesn’t skip a beat as he continues, “—Yes, I did. And you don’t get to throw the biggest mistake I’ve ever made back in my face—“

“Yes, I do.”

“—No, you don’t.” 

“Yes, I do.” You argue back stubbornly, continuing before he can speak over you again, “And you paid for Eunseok’s car, the same boy who fucked one of my best friends for months while actively dating me and you don’t see a single problem with that?”

“His parents were discussing pressing charges—“

“That’s when you tell them to go fuck themselves.” 

He sighs at your words, clearly sick of your temper (which you inherited from him), “You need to start handling your emotions better, you’re graduating this year.”

“I have literally witnessed you throw a chair in anger, get someone else to say that to me.” 

He seems ready to respond, when the waiter comes with the food, and you speak before he can, politely asking if you can get a to-go box for it instead. Your father doesn’t seem to have the guts to speak as the waiter glances between you both unsurely before nodding, “Of course.”

He takes the dish back and the moment he is out of ear-shot, your father says, “We aren’t done talking.”

“I am.” You shrug, clearly not willing or planning on sitting here any longer than you have to.

The waiter is back out with your to-go container wrapped in a bag that has mint-chocolates inside as well as a complimentary box of breadsticks that you’ll probably eat while crying your eyes out later. You ignore the stern orders from your father to sit back down, thanking the waiter with a polite smile and promptly walk out of the restaurant. 

The tears of frustration start falling the moment you’re in the safety of your car, a soft curse leaving your lips as you put the bag of food in the passenger seat and pull out of the parking lot, turning ‘this is me trying’ by Taylor Swift all the up as you drive the highway back home. You ignore the texts from your father, as well as the calls.

You’re at the red light before turning into your neighborhood when Riki’s caller ID shows up on the screen of your console, and you debate even answering, but wipe your eyes and clear your throat as you press the green answer button, “Hello?” 

Your voice is more stable than you expected it to be, and Riki responds in kind, “Hey, I just got out of practice—you okay?”

“M’fine, what’s up?” You say with an attempt at a sneaky sniffle, the thought of him knowing you’re crying is too humiliating. Part of you is disappointed he somehow could tell that something was up. The other part of you, the vulnerable and hurt teenage girl with daddy issues and a yearning to be listened to and understood, begs to just break down. 

He doesn’t seem to buy it, you hear the sound of keys jingling and then a car door opening and shutting, then he’s speaking again, “You sure?”

The light turns green, and you finally turn into your neighborhood, “I’m fine.” It’s almost a snap, one you instantly regret as you quickly say, “Sorry, just—“

“It’s okay,” He assures, and you feel even more guilty, more tears threatening to fall as your bottom lip trembles again. You’re pulling into your driveway as he continues, “Wanna talk about it over lunch?”

“I just got lunch with my dad, actually,” You say with a soft, bitter laugh, voice wavering and a soft curse leaving your lips the moment it does, “Fuck, sorry, this is just weird.”

He seems a bit panicked by the way your voice only turns more tearfilled as you apologize, “Hey, don’t worry about it, seriously—“ There’s a sound like a knock on the other end, and you hear him whisper something like ‘go away’ before he’s continuing, “—sorry I teased you earlier today, I, uh, thought I made you mad so I was calling to make up for it.”

A soft sob leaves you as you laugh with it, “I’m not mad about that, but I did wanna talk about it,” You sniffle, “About Nayeon, I mean.”

“You don’t have to, I was just messing with you.” You can imagine him shaking his head slightly as he speaks, “She didn’t really say much, just asked if we were dating.”

“What’d you say?” You find yourself asking.

He hesitates before answering, “Yeah.”

It sends a weird hot jolt to your stomach and your worried lips turn into a girlish smile that you quickly wipe off your face, “That’s okay, y’know. I’m pretty sure my friends have been telling everyone you’re my boyfriend, so the whole ‘taking it slow’ shit is out the window.”

He chuckles on the other end and it flips your stomach like a fucking pancake, “Great, I’m not that type anyway.”

(There’s a feral voice in the back of your conscience that screeches like it’s a beast gnawing at the walls of its enclosure.)

Your teeth catch your bottom lip and your eyes shut like you’re trying to come back to Earth and not hang up out of pure flustered reflex. You force out a response, “Just means we have to make it more believably genuine.”

“What’s your plan, pretty girl?” 

Oh, you want to bang your head into the steering wheel. “Do you mind coming over? I wanna discuss it in person but I just got home.”

You jaw slackens in shock at your own words, looking into the rear view and mouthing at yourself; Bitch, what the fuck—

“Yeah, sure. What’s the address?” His response is so natural and unperturbed the catastrophizing your brain has done in the last second slips away and you silently scream.

A second later you respond like normal, “I’ll text it to you.”

“Okay, I’m on my way, then.”

When the two of you hang up after a few more words, you realize what you have done and quickly turn off your car, grabbing the food and your purse and hastening into the open garage, struggling with the doorknob and pressing the garage door button before entering. 

Your room isn’t messy, per say, but your duvet is covered in cat fur, and you don’t even know if Riki’s allergic to them or not. “Gus, can you move, please?” You ask your cat as you begin to pull the duvet off your bed but he remains unmoving on the end of your bed.

He blinks at you slowly, and you sigh. 

After taking too much time carefully moving the duvet from under your cat and hurriedly tossing it into the laundry room while grabbing your spare to put on the bed instead, the doorbell rings.

With one(at least three) last look in the mirror to check your appearance, still in the outfit you changed into for lunch with your dad, you open the large iron front door.

“Hi.” You greet softly with a slight smile, and Riki has one himself that almost looks shy.

He bites his bottom lip and says back, “Hi.”

As you let him in, you look down at the door handle, waiting for him to step inside before shutting it behind him.

As his eyes move to assess his surroundings with slow steps, you catch up to him, grabbing his sleeve and pulling his hand from his pocket as you tug him along toward your room with unhurried steps. He lets you, though you hear the chuckle under his breath.

“That’s Gus. I hope you’re not allergic to cats.” is the first thing that leaves your mouth as you pull him into your cleaned room(though you’ll have to un-ass your closet later), and he gasped softly.

The voice that comes out next is higher in pitch and softer as he hesitantly approaches your loafing cat, who sniffs his fingers for a second or two before headbutting them. You witness Riki practically melt as he coos at the feline that happily receives his pets.

“Wanna guess his full name?” You jest, and he hums, looking over at you curiously but not halting his petting of Gus. “Gazpacho.”

Riki looks elated by the information, grinning so prettily you want to use the vintage lotus lamp on your nightstand to beat your head against, and he softly goes back to cooing, “Hi, Gazpacho.”

A giggle laugh leaves your lips that you quickly cover with your mouth and a quick avert of your gaze, eyes landing on the whiteboard against your wall. The fucking whiteboard.

“Oh, fuck.” leaves your lips before you can stop yourself but you’re already moving to grab the object of your doom, “Don’t look, close your eyes.”

Your demands are met with pure boyish defiance, and his eyes follow your movement to your closet door, opening it just enough to toss the whiteboard inside and quickly shutting it. “You saw nothing.”

He slowly pulls away from Gus with a growing suspicious smirk, “I’m scared to ask.”

“It’s just a whiteboard, nothing of consequence written on it, or anything.” You say with a purse of your lips.

“A whiteboard?” He questions with a tilt of his head.

You nod, moving away from your shut closet door and taking the opportunity to change the subject, “My stepdad’s a physicist.”

“Ooh, that’s cool.” He says with a thumbs up, taking the moment to move his eyes around the room as he had been distracted by the cat, “This is a nice house.”

“Thank you,” You respond softly out of instinct, “My mom’s a big lawyer too, so….”

“Ah, right, I think Jake mentioned that once.” He nods, sitting in the bean bag(you’ll have to break the news to Eunchae later).

You hum, sitting on the edge of your bed beside Gus and petting him, “What do your parents do?”

He has a slightly shy grin on his face as he says, “They own a pretty big dance studio.”

“That’s super cool.” You compliment with a tilt of your head, “Do you dance?”

If you could audibly coo at the redness blooming on the tips of his ears as he nods slightly you would, but you settle with a giggle that has him squeezing his eyes shut in embarrassment, “I do, yeah.”

“I did ballroom for like, ten years.” 

It’s as if you’ve revealed a hidden treasure, and he asks, “Do you still know how?”

You immediately hold up a defiant hand, “I am not showing you, and it’s been years.”

He whines, hands moving to clasp pleadingly, “Aww, c’mon, I’ll take you to my family’s studio and show you mine.”

This piques your interest and you ask before you can think about it, tone playfully flirty, “Taking me to meet your parent’s so soon?”

He chuckles softly, voice still so low, “Like I said, I don’t like slow.”

It takes a few more minutes of pointless chatter(and many more flirty remarks that make you want to scream into your pillow) before you get to the core of your problems today; Nayeon.

“Okay, wait, so—she and your ex…were together?” He reiterates to better understand, and you nod, and he then asks, “In your house?”

“Why do you think I took the fire-poker to his car?” You shrug, and he has a half-grin on his face.

“I thought that rumor was exaggerated.” He admits, giving you an appreciative once over like he’s impressed, “You’ve got a temper, huh?”

“I’ve never overreacted in my life.” You say with a slight raise of your hands.

He nods with a slight smirk as if he absolutely believes you, “‘Course not.”

“Anyway, she had a major crush on you in freshman year, literally fantasized about your wedding and everything,” You blissfully expose, “And I already had my eyes on you so it all worked out.”

He nods with a hum and slight smirk, “I see, so I’m sweet revenge.”

“The sweetest.” You playfully flirt, and his eyes turn into shy crescents.

“So, who were your other options?” He asks after a few seconds to let the pink on his cheeks fade, and you grin.

“Jealous?” You mimic his tone from earlier in the day and he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, I am.” The admission falls naturally from his lips and your gut flips, “Curious, too.”

“Jungkook didn’t want me to choose you.” You respond with a tight smile.

His eyes widen, “Coach knows?”

“He’s got an idea.” You respond with a slight shrug.

“Did he suggest anyone else?”

“Jungwon,” You answer easily, snickering softly when he groans and throws his head back, “but he’s a tight-ass, he’d never agree.”

Riki snorts, and with a shrug says, “You’re pretty, I think he’d come around.” Your raised brow has him quickly changing the subject with a curious tilt of his head, “You already had your eyes on me, though?”

His question is cheeky and paired with a matching grin that makes you roll your eyes and fight nervous giggles as you say, “I never said that.”

“Really? ’Cause I heard you say it.” He seems much too determined to not let you move on from the subject but your mother loves to compare you to a mule in regards to obstinance.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shrug innocently.

He leans forward slightly in the beanbag, his elbows resting on his knees, and that grin of his only widens. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“And you’re annoyingly persistent,” you counter, but there’s no real bite behind your words. You stand up, moving toward your desk under the guise of rearranging things that don’t need rearranging, mostly to avoid his knowing gaze.

Riki tilts his head, watching you with amusement. “You know, if you’re trying to throw me off, it’s not working.”

You glance over your shoulder, trying not to crack under the weight of his attention. “Throw you off from what? I’m just tidying.”

“Right. And I’m just here for the cat.”

“Good. Gus loves the attention,” you quip, folding your arms over your chest as you turn back to him.

“But I’m not done yet,” he says with mock seriousness, shifting in the beanbag like he’s settling in for the long haul. “What’s so bad about admitting you’ve been into me? I mean, look at me.” He gestures to himself in a way that’s more playful than cocky, but you still roll your eyes so hard it’s a miracle they don’t get stuck.

“Wow, humble too,” you shoot back, but the warmth in your cheeks betrays you.

“Hey, just stating facts. Can’t help it if you have great taste.” He pauses, letting the silence stretch just enough to make you squirm. “Besides,” he adds, his voice dipping lower, “you’re kind of making it obvious now.”

Your hands find your hips in defiance. “How, exactly?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he muses, standing up slowly, his movements deliberate as he closes the distance between you. “The way you got all flustered when I asked if you still know how to dance. Or how you won’t look me in the eye right now.”

You refuse to back down, lifting your chin as you meet his gaze. “I’m not flustered. And I’m looking at you right now, aren’t I?”

He smirks, leaning just a little closer, his tone teasing. “Sure you are. But you’re still not answering my question.”

You blink innocently up at him through your lashes and you swear you see his eyes dart below your nose. “What question?”

Riki lets out a soft laugh, a mix of exasperation and amusement, as he shakes his head. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“I’ve been told.” You shrug, trying to look nonchalant, but the proximity is starting to get to you.

He watches you for a moment, his smirk turning into something softer, though no less mischievous. “Alright, fine. I’ll let it go. For now.”

“Oh, how gracious of you.” Your sarcasm earns you a grin as he steps back and flops dramatically into the beanbag again, sprawling like he owns the place.

“Gotta keep you on your toes, don’t I?”

“More like get on my nerves,” you mutter, though the twitch of your lips gives you away.

“Same thing.” He winks, and you hate how charming he looks doing it.

The smirk he gives you as he leans back has your stomach doing somersaults, but you refuse to let him see you sweat. Instead, you turn your attention to Gus, pretending to be more interested in your cat than in the boy currently making himself at home in your life—and your head.

As Riki lounges back in the beanbag, his eyes drift lazily around the room again, lingering on the neatly arranged desk and the wall beyond. “You’ve got a pretty organized vibe for someone who just tossed a whiteboard into a closet like it was a bomb.”

You freeze mid-pet, your hand hovering above Gus’s head. “You’re still on about that?”

“I mean, it’s a whiteboard. What kind of secrets could it possibly hold?” His tone is teasing, but the glint in his eyes says he’s not letting it drop.

You debate lying, but the little smirk playing on his lips tells you he won’t believe you anyway. “Nothing important. Just… research.”

“Research.” He repeats with an arched brow, “Like, ‘solving world hunger’ research or me research?“

You groan, dragging your hands down your face. “I hate you.”

“Now I really have to see it.” He starts to rise, and you spring to your feet, blocking his path to the closet.

“Riki, no.”

“Riki, yes.” He steps closer, towering over you slightly, his grin widening as you try to stand your ground.

“Don’t make me sic Gus on you,” you warn, pointing toward the loafing cat.

“Gus and I are best friends now. He’d never betray me.” Riki gestures toward the cat, who yawns dramatically like he’s staying out of it.

“Traitor,” you mutter at Gus, which earns you a laugh from Riki.

“C’mon,” he cajoles, his voice dropping into that infuriatingly soft tone that makes your heart do weird flips. “What’s the worst that could happen if I see it?”

Your resolve wavers, but the idea of him actually reading the whiteboard is too mortifying, “I’ll have to kill you.”

His grin only widens at your threat, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. “Wow, straight to murder, huh? Didn’t realize you were so passionate about…whatever’s on that board.”

“You have no idea,” you mutter, crossing your arms in an attempt to look intimidating. It doesn’t work. Riki’s grin turns smug, like he knows he has the upper hand.

“Now I really need to know.” He leans closer, and the proximity sends your heart into overdrive. You can practically feel the heat radiating from him as he tilts his head, his voice dipping into a teasing drawl. “What if it’s, like, a shrine to me or something?”

The gasp you let out is equal parts offense and panic. “You think way too highly of yourself.”

“I don’t know,” he teases, tapping his chin as though deep in thought. “I’ve heard people do wild things when they’ve got a crush.”

“Bold of you to assume—”

“You’re avoiding the question again.” He cuts you off, smirking as he steps back just enough to lean casually against the end of your bedframe, his arms crossed. “What’s on the whiteboard, really?”

You hesitate, the words sticking in your throat. There’s no way you’re admitting to the utterly ridiculous pros and cons list your friends talked you into. Not yet, anyway.

“It’s… study stuff,” you finally say, your tone lacking conviction. “School projects, maybe some physics equations. Boring things you wouldn’t care about.”

“Physics equations?” he repeats, clearly unconvinced. “Yeah, because I look like the kind of guy who’d buy that excuse.”

“Hey, I’m trying here,” you snap, which only makes him chuckle again.

“I can tell. You’re terrible at it.” His grin softens slightly, the teasing replaced with something that feels a little too close to genuine. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. You don’t have to tell me.”

You blink at him, surprised by his sudden shift in tone but immediately suspicious of it. “Really?”

“Sure.” He shrugs, though there’s still a playful glint in his eyes. “But now I have leverage. You’ll owe me later.”

“Owe you for what?” you demand, but the smug look on his face says you won’t get an answer you like.

“For letting you off the hook, obviously.” He straightens and gives you a wink before heading back to the beanbag like he didn’t just upend your entire equilibrium. “Don’t worry—I’ll think of something good.”

You stare at him, your jaw slightly agape, as he makes himself comfortable again. Gus hops onto his lap, clearly picking sides, and Riki’s attention shifts back to your cat like nothing happened.

“You’re infuriating,” you mutter, though you can’t quite keep the fondness out of your voice.

He glances up, his smirk softening into a smile that’s entirely too charming. “And you love it.”

You hate that you do.

The week passes by with a dreadful speed, and after four whole days of anxiety-induced stomach aches, migraines, and a few breakdowns in the dark privacy of your room at midnight, it is the weekend. 

It is the weekend, and Belle, Hiyyih, and Eunchae bear witness to a minor crash-out.

“I’m gonna puke.” You mumble, sitting on the ottoman at the center of your walk-in closet with your face in your hands as the older two walk around you, going through your options for an outfit.

“Keep that shit in bitch,” Belle says without looking away from the clothes hanging in your closet, pointing a finger blindly at you in warning, “You puke, I puke.”

Eunchae moves towards your hunched form from her spot on your bean bag(which she moved into your closet to sit on), snickering softly as she sits beside you and brings her hand to rub circles on your back. “There, there.”

A part of you wants to snap at her that she isn’t funny, but the act is weirdly comforting so you let her continue. Bahiyyih speaks from where she is in front of your shoe shelf, “Why do you have so many shoes?”

“My mom gets sent them monthly by some guy she was a lawyer for a while ago,” You exhale as you drop your hands into your lap, eyes still closed as you contemplate opening them ever again, “She hates wearing pumps now so she gives them to me or regifts them.”

“What if you wear these?” Hiyyih holds up a pair of Louboutins, and you open your eyes to see before looking at her like she’s crazy.

“Not only is it bowling and I’m gonna have to change shoes anyway, but I’m not wearing a So Kate for something that isn’t even a date, Hiyyih.”

She pouts her bottom lip as she puts them down, and Belle pulls a top from the collection of them hanging in your closet and holds it up in question towards you. After a few seconds of staring at the article of clothing, debating if you remember looking cute in it or not, you nod and she tosses it into the ‘maybe’ pile. 

Two seconds later, you’re hunching over and blindly grabbing a pillow near you to scream into.

Eunchae pats your back again, her snickering turning into full-blown laughter. “Feel better now, drama queen?”

You lift your head just enough to glare at her over the pillow. “No.”

“Good,” Belle says, tossing another shirt into the ‘definitely not’ pile without even showing it to you. “Because if you puke or scream again, I’m calling your mom and telling her you’re being insufferable. She might take those Louboutins back.”

“That’s not funny,” you mumble into the pillow.

“It’s a little funny,” Hiyyih chimes in, holding up a sequined crop top like it’s the Holy Grail. “Okay, but seriously, what about this? It says ‘I’m fun,’ but not, like, too fun.”

Eunchae tilts her head at it. “It also says ‘I moonlight as a disco ball.’”

You groan, sitting up straight and snatching the crop top out of Hiyyih’s hands. “Why is this so hard? It’s bowling! I should just wear sweatpants and call it a day.”

Belle spins around with the precision of a K-drama villain. “Don’t you dare. Do you want to show up looking like his cousin who just rolled out of bed, or like the mysterious, unattainable enigma that you are?”

“Unattainable?” you ask with a hesitant furrow of you brows.

“Yeah, unattainable, as in: unattainable by anyone else but him,” Belle clarifies, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re playing the long game, babe.”

“You say that like this is some kind of psychological warfare,” you deadpan.

Belle shrugs. “It kind of is.”

Eunchae raises a hand like she’s in class. “But what if he’s bad at bowling? Like, gutter ball after gutter ball bad? Do you let him win or destroy him?”

You pause, genuinely considering it. “Destroy him, obviously.”

“Bold choice.” Hiyyih nods approvingly, tossing a pleated skirt into the maybe pile. “What if you’re bad, though?”

You gasp. “That’s not even an option.”

Belle smirks. “So confident for someone who hasn’t touched a bowling ball since middle school.”

“You’re supposed to be helping me, not roasting me!” You grab the nearest pillow and launch it at her. She dodges with ease, laughing as it smacks into the closet door behind her.

“Roasting you is my way of helping you,” Belle retorts, unfazed. “It’s called multitasking.”

Eunchae picks up the discarded pillow and hands it back to you, patting your head like you’re a distressed pet. “There, there. At least you’ll look cute while you embarrass yourself.”

“Why are all of you like this?” You drop your head back into your hands, half tempted to cancel the whole thing.

“Because we love you,” Belle sing-songs, pulling out a denim jacket that you forgot you even owned. “Now shut up and try this on. We’re on a schedule, ho.”

You sigh, begrudgingly taking the jacket as the three of them continue their chaotic brainstorming session around you. It’s not helpful in the slightest, but somehow, it makes you feel a little less like throwing up again.

By some miracle—or maybe just the collective force of Belle’s bullying, Eunchae’s comfort, and Hiyyih’s endless suggestions—you finally land on an outfit. The moment you pull the halter top over your head, the three of them fall silent, which is either a very good sign or a very bad one.

“Okay, that’s cute,” Belle finally declares, hands on her hips like she personally designed the top. “It’s giving effortless, but still hot enough to make him sweat.”

“It’s super cute on you,” Hiyyih chimes in, tilting her head as she appraises the outfit.

“It is,” Eunchae adds, grinning as she slides off the bean bag to circle you.

The cropped halter top clings just right, the rich color complementing your skin tone and making you feel…hot. Paired with the baggy jeans that sit low on your hips, the whole look is casual, but not too casual. You glance at the mirror, adjusting the jeans slightly and eyeing the way they pool at the hems over your socked feet.

“Am I pulling this off?” you ask hesitantly, smoothing the fabric of the top.

Belle snorts. “If he’s not staring, I’ll be personally offended on your behalf.”

Eunchae pretends to swoon dramatically, throwing herself back onto the bean bag. “The mysterious unattainable enigma strikes again.”

“Okay, but shoes,” Hiyyih cuts in, crouching by the pile of options at your feet. “You’re wearing sneakers, obviously, but which ones? The Nikes or the New Balances?”

You glance down, debating for a moment before pointing to the Nikes. “They’re cleaner.”

Belle raises an eyebrow. “Barely. When was the last time you cleaned your shoes?”

You glare at her, picking up a sneaker and threatening to launch it her way. She holds up her hands in mock surrender, moving to pull a jacket from the rack as she says, “Make sure you bring a jacket, though. It’s cold as shit.”

“Or she can not bring one and Riki can lend her his.” Eunchae suggests with a cheeky grin.

Belle promptly tosses the jacket into the back of your closet.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. The nerves are still there, bubbling under the surface, but with your friends around—and an outfit that actually makes you feel cute—you start to think that maybe, just maybe, tonight won’t be a complete disaster.

riki 🙈: im here

“We’re seeing you off,” Belle declares, handing you the Prada bag she just stuffed your lip combo into. Hiyyih trails behind her, spritzing your neck and wrists with your favorite perfume.

The dread must be plastered all over your face because Eunchae immediately starts snickering from where she’s leaning against the doorframe. “We just wanna see his reaction.”

“To me or to you guys making kissy faces at him from the porch?” you deadpan.

The chorus of giggles that erupts from your three friends is all the answer you need.

“Oh, come on,” Belle says, looping her arm through yours as she drags you toward the front door. “We’ll behave.”

“You behaving is a scientific impossibility,” you mutter, trying to resist, but she’s got the strength of someone fully committed to the bit.

“Hold on,” Eunchae pulls something out of her hoodie pocket she must’ve forgotten was there until just now, uncapping the small bottle and holding it in front of your lips, “Open.”

You obey with a slight furrow of your brows, and she sprays it into your mouth, giggling when you flinch slightly in surprise and grimace at the strong mint taste. Eunchae grins, unzipping the bag on your shoulder just enough to slip it in before closing it, “To prevent food breath.”

The moment Belle opens the front door, your breath catches at the sight of Riki leaning casually against the passenger side of his Wrangler, hands tucked into his pockets. The golden light of the setting sun highlights the faint smirk on his face, his jewelry glinting as he shifts.

"Lord have mercy," you mutter under your breath.

You didn't expect him to show up in sweatpants and a hoodie, but you weren't prepared for this either. The necklaces layering his collarbones and the glint of piercings--does he have an eyebrow piercing?—are almost too much. You quickly shove down the spiral threatening to start and glance back at the three traitorous girls behind you.

Their kissy faces drop immediately, though Eunchae barely suppresses her laughter. 

With a playful shove to Hiyyih—who stumbles into the porch pillar but resumes her antics without missing a beat—you flip them all a perfectly manicured middle finger and step off the porch.

As you walk toward him, you swear the faintest blush tinges his ears. He waves briefly at your friends before straightening and meeting your gaze.

"You look good," he says, voice low and easy.

"I know." Your response is swift and confident, though the smile on your face is warmer than intended.

The moment is interrupted when the backseat window of his car rolls down, and Jake's grinning face is revealed. Your smile drops.

"Why is Jake in your car?" you deadpan, your smile dropping.

Riki groans, dragging a hand over his face. "Dude, I told you not to be weird."

Jake looks offended. "I didn't even say anything!"

"Seeing your face is enough," you reply flatly. Jake pouts dramatically while you shoot Riki an accusatory glare. "You could've warned me."

"If I did, you would've come out frowning," Riki whines playfully. "You have such a pretty smile."

From the backseat, Jake's obnoxious "ooooh" echoes, accompanied by giggles that make Riki's blush spread down his neck. Still, he keeps his composure enough to open the passenger door for you.

"What a gentleman~," Belle teases loudly from the porch.

Eunchae waves at you, practically bouncing with glee. You shoot Belle a glare, mouthing "kill yourself" as you accept Riki's hand and climb into his lifted car.

"Bye, Manchae," you call, snapping your attention away from him as he closes the door. You're too aware of his cologne and the lingering warmth of his hand. He looks way too good.

Riki salutes your friends playfully before circling to his door. Through Jake's open window, you hear Hiyyih shout, "She likes Dr Pepper!”

"And winning!" Eunchae adds.

"And tongue," Belle finishes just before the window rolls up.

You cringe. Riki's amused laugh is confirmation he definitely heard that. "I hate her so much," you mutter, pulling the sun visor down to touch up your lip gloss to dostract yourself.

You're halfway through the motion when you notice Riki hasn't started driving yet. Turning, you catch him just as he’s looking back at the road, his hand on the gear shift. (There’s something attractive about the fact he drives stick.)

Jake's giggle breaks the silence. "Oh, shut up, Jake," you snap, not necessarily to defend Riki—though it only makes Jake laugh harder. “Why couldn't your other friends bring him?" you grumble, swiping the gloss over your bottom lip.

"He's my neighbor," Jake says cheekily.

"I would've made him walk," you reply, clicking the gloss shut and shoving it back into your bag. "Or Uber."

"That's just cruel," Jake protests, but you shrug.

"Sucks."

Riki snickers and nods. "Okay, he'll Uber next time."

Jake looks appalled. "Bro."

"You're annoying me too," Riki replies, barely glancing back as he rests his hand lazily on the gear shift.

You pointedly ignore the way his rolled-up sleeves expose a line of muscle up his forearm, a vein standing out as he moves to grab his phone charger. "Play your music," he says, holding the cord out to you.

Jake gapes. "Bro, you never let us play our music."

"That's because you guys have shit taste," Riki says without hesitation.

Your lips twitch, a sliver of pride blooming in your chest.

You connect your phone, Sabrina Carpenter's Taste filtering through the speakers. Jake perks up. "Oh, I actually like this song."

"You better," you reply, humming along as the music plays.

Riki bobs his head lightly to the beat, his usual laid-back energy soothing you as the drive continues.

"Who else is bowling with us?" you ask, turning the music down slightly.

"Jay, his girlfriend, and Heeseung," Riki answers casually.

You hum in understanding and turn the volume back up, inhaling the soft musk of his cologne mingling with your perfume. The scent is annoyingly pleasant, calming in its own way.

By the time he pulls into the parking lot and finds a good spot, the sky has dimmed to a deep navy. Riki is out of his seat in a flash, jogging around to open your door before Jake even unbuckles himself. His hand lingers on yours as he helps you down, his fingers interlocking with yours naturally.

Jake trails behind you two as Riki leads you toward the neon-lit entrance, the muffled sounds of bowling balls and laughter drifting through the glass doors. 

Jay, a pretty girl you are pretty sure was in your art class in freshman year, and Heeseung are standing near the entrance, and you wish you could hide behind Riki from their gazes that immediately find your intertwined hands.

You send a smile to the only other girl reflexively, and she sends the prettiest one back. She grins excitedly as the three of them meet your trio halfway once you enter the door that Riki holds open for you to enter first. 

(You wonder if these are manners his sisters and mother taught him or a previous girlfriend—wait, no you don’t.)

“I told you it was her!” She smacks Jay’s arm, and he winces with a soft laugh, clearly used to his girlfriend’s antics. Her approach is welcomed as she explains, “He was saying Riki was lying.” 

“About?” You question curiously, an easy smile on your glossy lips.

She giggles as she answers, “You being his girlfriend.”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Riki says lowly, clearly embarrassed by the subject as you snicker at his misfortune.

“I’m Gaeul, by the way.” The girl states with a giggle as she pulls you from Riki with her elbow hooked with yours, and you barely glance back at your ‘boyfriend’, who’s being patted on the shoulder by Jay. “They’ll handle paying for everything, let’s get some snacks.”

“Oh, okay.” You say softly before smiling with her, delighted that she brought up food before you had to ask Riki about it. You aren’t ashamed of eating, or shy about doing so in front of him, but having another girl who also seems to prioritize food was immensely comforting to the anxiety in your gut. 

She grins as the two of you step into line at the concession counter, “I’m also glad I got you away from the boys for a second, they’re so…”

“Boyish?” You finish, and she laughs softly.

“Yeah.”

“Girl to girl,” You start, moving up in line with her, “I don’t think I’m gonna be good at bowling.” 

She gasps joyfully, “I suck!”

You laugh at her clear excitement that she’s finally not alone in that aspect, “But that means the boys are better than us.”

She rolls her eyes at the mention of them, “Riki and Heeseung are the really good bowlers,” There’s one more person between you two and the counter now, “I love my boyfriend, but he and Jake suck compared to those two.”

“I don’t want to lose to Jake.” You sigh, “It just doesn't seem ethical.”

“Riki’ll handle him.” She snickers softly, “You should've seen him at practice when Jake and Hoon messed with you.”

Your interest is piqued, but the person in front of you finishes paying for their food and you are forced to put your questions aside as she begins ordering and you realize you don’t even know what you want. 

You’re skimming over the menu above when your phone dings in your purse.

riki 🙈: what size shoe do u wear?

Quickly typing an answer, you glance between your phone and the menu, and Gaeul turns to you, waiting for you to add to the already sizable order with how much the four athletes can eat. “Oh, I can pay for myself—“

“Riki already venmoed me enough to spot you,” She interjects with a soft giggle, and you feel your cheeks burn.

“Oh,” You let out before shaking your head and looking at the waiting cashier, “A large drink and a basket of cheese fries, please.”

Gaeul hands you the stack of cups she’s handed, and you startle slightly when a hand and arm appear in your vision, plucking the cups from your hand. When you look over your shoulder you find a smirking Riki, “I got this. Go sit.” 

You huff softly, fighting your smile that threatens to grow even wider, “I can fill up my own drink.”

“I know, but I wanna do it.” He states with a nod like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and you can’t do much more than glare weakly. He only chuckles softly as Gaeul finishes paying and realizes he’s with you, “Go. Dr Pepper, right?.”

You look away from his cheeky smirk with a shift of your jaw, and you lose the fight against the grin now on your face, “I hate you.”

He only huffs softly in amusement as you walk away with your arms crossed, making your way to where you spot Heeseung’s orange hair. There’s a pair of green bowling shoes beside another bigger pair that are red placed on the bench seating, and Jake has a grin on his face the moment you sit down to put them on.

“I am not above hitting you in the head with a bowling ball, Jake.” You say as you pull the white sneakers off your feet to put on the bowling shoes, not even soaring the Australian boy a glance as his mouth shuts, clearly rethinking speaking.

Heeseung snorts, “Shit, you are violent.”

You look up from your bowling shoes at the Lacrosse captain, who’s grin drops and he quickly looks away, acting like he wasn’t just laughing. Jay shakes his head with a laugh, “Thank you, for shutting them up.”

You give him a smile with a scrunch of your nose, “My pleasure.”

The moment Riki and Gaeul return, you’ve barely gotten your shoes tied. You’re still shooting looks at Jake, who’s pretending to look anywhere but at you while Jay wheezes softly into his hand. Riki raises a brow, setting a tray of drinks and snacks on the table. “What happened now?”

“She threatened Jake’s life with a bowling ball,” Heeseung informs him with amusement still clear on his face.

Riki pauses mid-sip of his drink, glancing at you with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. “Already? We haven’t even started the game yet.”

You shrug innocently, tugging the laces on your bowling shoes tighter. “He looked like he deserved it.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” Jake argues with a whine, and you roll your eyes.

“You had that stupid look on your face.”

“Not defending him, but that’s just what Jake looks like.” Jay interjects with a finger raised to make a point, and Gaeul smacks his hand lightly with a disapproving shake of her head despite her snickering.

Riki sits beside you, handing you a large cup full of what you assume is Dr Pepper that you immediately taste to prove your theory, humming happily and smiling as you thank him. His smile mirrors yours as he begins to put on his own bowling shoes, and you grab your purse, which you had initially placed to your left, from between the two of you to place it elsewhere.

“Here,” He says softly, grabbing your purse from you to put on his other side with his jacket, which he had shed at some point between entering the building and sitting down, and you mutter a soft ‘oh, thank you’ that has his soft smirk widening just a bit before he focuses back on tying his shoes.

You’re somewhat thankful that they seemed to have agreed on teams instead of each of you having your own scoreboard, though seeing every ‘x’ between your ‘5’ points was embarrassing enough. 

Gaeul seems wholly entertained by the gutter ball she just achieved as you cheer for her from your seat between Riki and Heeseung, too distracted by the fun of the game to see the goosebumps on your arms. You’re leaning forward to pluck a fry from the basket of them on the table when you feel a warm something draped over your shoulders. 

Riki is standing for his turn before you can even react, but across the table Gaeul turns to hide her face in Jay’s shoulder to poorly muffle the high pitched squeal she lets out. You ignore the heat rising up your neck, catching the fry between your teeth to slip your arms into the jacket sleeves.

Jay and Gaeul seem to be the only team playing purely for fun, because Jake and Heeseung are neck and neck with you and Riki on the scoreboard and your ‘boyfriend’ looks less than pleased about it. 

It’s near the last round when Jake scores a miraculous nine points that you mentally prepare to accept defeat, looking up at Riki who had just gotten back with your refilled cup, “Horrible news.”

He raises his brows, looking at the scoreboard and cursing under his breath. It’s your final turn, and while you hadn’t completely embarrassed yourself with your subpar bowling skills you probably weren’t good enough or lucky enough to score anything higher than six points. At the moment, HeeJake is in first place.

Gaeul is cheering you on with her back against Jay’s chest, and Riki leans down, resting a hand on the edge of the table beside you, his face just close enough to make your heart race. “No pressure,” he says softly, smirking. “But if you lose, we’re never hearing the end of it.”

You roll your eyes, trying to act unimpressed. “Great pep talk. Truly inspiring.”

He snickers softly, straightening back up as you stand with dread clear on your pretty face. Heeseung pipes up, “Give her a good luck kiss, Romeo.” The glare you shoot the Lacrosse captain only makes him snicker with his hands held up in mock-surrender, “Was just a suggestion.”

The feigned smile you give him has your fake boyfriend plucking your drink from your hands (how did he knew you had an urge to throw it at Heeseung’s face, you’ll never know), and his hands move to your shoulders to walk with you to edge of the lane to grab a pink 7lb bowling ball.

Riki’s grip on your shoulders lingers, and he leans down slightly to murmur near your ear, “Just—aim in the middle.”

You glance at him over your shoulder with a withering look, choosing to ignore his proximity, “Like that isn’t what I’ve been doing.”

“Could've fooled me—ow! Okay, okay,” He’s still laughing despite rubbing his chest where your punch landed, much too cheeky for your liking but his smile is too…something for you to want to wipe it off his face, “You’re better than Jake.”

You shoot him a skeptical look, but it’s hard to ignore the encouragement in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, you grip the heavy pink ball tightly, positioning it at your waist. Riki steps back, hands on his hips, his smirk still in place.

“Alright, show us what you’ve got, baby.”

“Oh, shut up.” You grumble softly, shooing him away to get his heart-fluttering grin out of your face, and as you pull his oversized sleeves up your arm to keep it from getting in the way you give yourself a mental pep talk.

Don’t lose, bitch.

It doesn’t help that your nails make putting your fingers in the three designated holes a struggle, and the moment the ball is released into the lane, veering left toward the gutter before God herself takes control and it curves back toward the center and slams into the center pin, you cover your face.

Strike!

Gaeul practically shrieks in excitement as the pins scatter, “Yes, girl!”

You blink, lashes fluttering as you process the cheering as well as groans from Jake, and you gasp, “Holy shit!”

Riki’s joyous laughter is infectious and warm, and you let out a soft shriek that fades into giggles as his arms wrap around your waist and he lifts you off your feet in a hug, “Hell yeah, baby!” 

The moment your feet are back on the ground, Gaeul is before you with her hands up for high fives, practically bouncing in excitement for you. It’s practically second nature to you as you match her energy, too high on your miraculous win to notice Riki’s hands lingering on your waist.

Another thing you fail to notice in your moment of joy is a familiar couple just a few lanes over, one party too distracted by the ruckus to pay any attention to the game her boyfriend and his friends dragged her to join.

She watches you smile and laugh as Riki helps you out of your bowling shoes, and her eyes follow you as you walk toward the restrooms with the light blue Prada bag she had always wished you would give her. It isn‘t fair.

You sigh softly as you place your bag on the sink in front of you, unzipping it to grab your lip combo to touch up in the mirror before going back out. As you uncap your lipliner with a muffled click, you hear the bathroom door open but don’t think much of it at the moment.

It isn’t until you look into the mirror, leaning forward slightly to see your lips better, that you see who it is.

“Can I help you?” You ask her reflection with a tilt of your head, tone less confrontational than it should be, but you’re trying to keep your good mood and Nayeon’s face is threatening to ruin it.

She scoffs softly, yet keeps a safe distance, “Do you even like him?”

You look away from the mirror to really look at her, ignoring the satisfaction that her slight flinch brings you, “Excuse me?”

“You moved on fast.” Nayeon states, and you scoff with a smile of both fury and amusement at her audacity, “Is it even real, or did you use daddy’s money to get him to date you?”

The tilt of your head should have been a sign for her to shut her mouth, but she continues when you don’t respond like usual, “But I guess moving from one guy to another is just like you.”

She’s just trying to rile you up, it’s obvious. 

You shake your head with a soft and bitter laugh, looking back at the mirror to continue what you had intended to do, the lip pencil gliding over the edges of your lips and the pad of your ring finger blending the harsh edges. 

Her jaw shifts in the reflection as you cap your lip-liner and exchange it for your lip gloss, and you send her a condescending smile, “You done?”

“You bitch—“ Her words are cut off by another person entering the bathroom, and as you swipe the gloss over your lips, you pause when you see it’s Gaeul.

She glances at Nayeon, but her main focus is on you as she says, “Ready to go?”

You hide your confusion at her question with a pretty smile, closing your gloss and stuffing it back into your bag before you walk to her, shoulder checking the audacious bitch on your way out, “Yep.” 

Gaeul’s arm hooks at your elbow as you both exit the bathroom, and you sigh in relief at being out of that situation before you remember your prior confusion and she explains without you needing to ask, “Your ex is at our table antagonizing Riki, I figured if he’s here she would be too.” 

Your brows furrow and you quickly pick up the pace of your stride with fury souring your mood once again. When you turn the corner, your gaze zeroes in on Riki, who’s leaning back in his seat seemingly unbothered by whatever it is that Eunseok is saying to him, and Nayeon hastens past you to join her boyfriend’s side.

Eunseok’s eyes land on you the moment his girlfriend puts herself on his arm, and they follow you as you approach Riki without even a glance his way until he speaks, “You move on fast.” He snorts, soft and bitter, “Didn’t expect you to open your legs so fast considering how long it took you to put out.”

You ignore him, though the anger in your gut is boiling hot as your gaze moves to Riki, who you find is already standing now, his jaw shifting yet no other sign in his body language that he’s as pissed as his narrowed eyes say he is. Jay, Heeseung, and Jake all watch, though from their body language you can tell they’re not exactly about to stand by if your ‘boyfriend’ decides to throw a well-deserved punch.

His gaze moves to yours the moment your hand finds his, softening as your fingers intertwine with his and you mutter, “Let’s go.”

He nods wordlessly, his willingness only pissing Eunseok off more as he laughs mockingly, and you feel Riki’s hand tighten around yours, “Already got him trained, huh? He like how mean you are?” 

“I do, yeah.” Riki responds for you with a smug smirk, “She’s got a hell of a bite.”

The second meaning to his words isn’t lost on you, and you find the way Eunseok bristles at the comment amusing enough to not get mad at Riki for it later considering the two of you obviously hadn't done more than hold hands. (You hear Jake choke on his drink, too.)

“Bro, it’s your turn!” Calls a familiar male across the bowling alley, Sohee. 

You take the moment of brief distraction to shoot a pointed look at Jake, who gets up from his seat to play peacemaker with Heeseung.

Jay seems to motion for Riki to leave while they’re distracted by the two, and you shoot Gaeul an apologetic glance that she receives with a shake of her head and a look that reads ‘don’t be sorry’ as Riki leads you out of the building.

The moment the frigid air hits you, you tug the sleeves of his jacket down your arms again and shiver slightly. “He’s such a dick.” You sigh softly, “I’m sorry.”

Riki shakes his head as the two of you stop just a few paces outside the entrance, “Don’t apologize.” His hands move to rub at your arms to help you warm up, and the sight of both of your breaths visible in the cold has you moving to take his jacket off to give to him, but his hands cover yours the moment they start pulling at the open zipper. “I’m okay.”

“Riki, it’s cold as shit.”

“All the more reason for you to keep the jacket.” He argues back with a soft smirk, “Really, I practice in the cold every day.” 

“You’re active, then. Not standing around,” You fuss, and he tilts his head slightly in acknowledgement before a cheeky smirk grows on his face.

“‘You worried about me, pretty girl?”

“Oh, stop it.” You groan with a poorly concealed warm laugh, and he catches your hands as you weakly swat at his chest, pulling you closer. “Riki.”

Your soft mutter of his name has his eyes shutting and his head falling back with a soft groan escaping his lips, “You’re so mean, baby.”

“It isn’t fair to you.” He doesn’t seem pleased by your statement, shaking his head and leaning forward to press his forehead to yours.

“Just a kiss.” He pleas softly, his nose brushing yours and you inhale sharply, “Just one.”

His words flip your stomach inside out, and as you sigh his name again he leans in.

“Oh shit!” The sudden exclamation has you and Riki both startling away from each other, Jake grinning like a maniac at the doors with Heeseung, Jay, and Gaeul behind him. “Fuck, did I just ruin a moment?”

You groan, turning away from them to begin walking to Riki’s Jeep, arms crossed to protect yourself from the cold and your mind in utter shambles because—

What the fuck?

Jake gets a ride from Heeseung home according to Riki, who had unlocked his car for you to get in while he said goodbye to the others. A part of you regrets not saying goodbye to Gaeul, but the thought of spending another second under their gaze at that moment felt suffocating.

The silence in the car is loud. Not awkward loud, but loud enough that every glance out the window and every shift in your seat feels amplified. Riki’s hands stay firmly on the wheel, his fingers drumming against the edge of the leather cover as he fiddles with the turn signal.

“So,” he starts, his voice casual but slightly strained, “you’ve got a mean bowling game for someone who swore they’d lose.”

You glance at him, catching the way the passing streetlights make his jawline look sharper. “That’s because I hustle. Low expectations are a great strategy.”

He huffs a small laugh, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Guess I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

You lean back against the seat, trying to ignore the fact that your heart still hasn’t settled since that moment at the alley—the one where his face was too close, his breath too warm, and you almost forgot this whole thing was fake.

“So… next time?” you tease, arching a brow. “How much more mortifying teasing can you handle?”

“Depends,” he says, keeping his eyes on the road. “How long does it take to make your ex think he lost the best thing that ever happened to him?”

Your laugh comes out before you can stop it. “It’ll probably never happen, I just like to see him squirm.” The weight of his words sits in the air between you, heavier than it should be. You turn to look out the window, feigning interest in the row of darkened houses you pass by. 

“You know,” he says after a beat, his voice quieter now, “I don’t think they’re worth this much effort. Your ex and… her.”

You blink, surprised at his shift in tone. “Well, thanks for that motivational speech, Riki. Really helps my self-esteem.”

He shakes his head, glancing at you briefly. “That’s not what I meant. I just mean… if they couldn’t see how good they had it with you, that’s on them. You don’t need to prove anything.”

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard. You open your mouth to reply, but the words don’t come. Instead, you study him in the dim light, wondering—not for the first time—why he agreed to this in the first place.

“Why are you doing this, Riki?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitates, his fingers drumming lightly against the steering wheel. “I told you, I need you to help me pass Chem.”

You narrow your eyes, not convinced but also not ready to push. “You haven’t even asked for help past me giving you my old notes.”

He smirks again, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “They’re just that helpful. Don’t overthink it.”

And maybe you don’t, because overthinking means dissecting the way he’s looking at you now in the faint glow of the dashboard, like he knows something you don’t.

The car slows to a stop in front of your house and you fiddle with the hem of your halter top, trying to figure out how to say what’s been sitting heavy in your chest since the bowling alley. “Riki,” you start, your voice softer than usual.

He hums in acknowledgment, already looking at you.

You take a steadying breath. “I don’t think… I’m ready for a real relationship.”

That gets his attention. His hands shift in his lap, his expression unreadable. “Okay,” he says after a beat, his tone cautious. “Where’s this coming from?”

You shift in your seat, suddenly finding the dashboard very interesting. “It’s just… you’ve been really good to me this past week, and I feel like it’s not fair to you. I mean, you’ve made it pretty clear how you feel, and I don’t want to lead you on or—”

“Hey.” His voice is calm, steady, and it makes you pause. “You’re not leading me on. I knew what I was getting into.”

“Yeah, but…” You trail off, frustration bubbling up because the words in your head won’t come out the way you want them to. “It’s not just about you. It’s about me, too. I don’t think I’m ready to deal with… all of this. Not after everything with him. It’s too much.”

He doesn’t say anything right away, which somehow makes it worse. The silence stretches, and you’re about to apologize—again—when he finally speaks.

“So, what do you want to do?”

“I think we should stop,” you say, hating how small your voice sounds. “The fake dating, I mean.”

He nods, almost imperceptibly. “If that’s what you want.”

“It’s not—” You stop yourself, biting your lip as your eyes burn. “I just… I don’t want to hurt you. You deserve someone who’s all in, and I can’t be that right now.”

His lips twitch into a faint, almost sad smile. “You’re thinking too much about me again.”

You frown, confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs lightly, his eyes moving away from you briefly before they settle back on yours. “It means you’re allowed to put yourself first, you know. I’m a big boy; I’ll survive.”

“But—”

“No buts.” He cuts you off gently, an easy smile still on his face. “If this is what you need, we’ll stop. No hard feelings.”

The simplicity of his response hits harder than you expected. It’s so Riki—quietly selfless, always willing to go along with what makes you happy.

You hate how much you suddenly want to reach across the console and kiss the life out of him. But you don’t. Instead, you swallow the lump in your throat and force a smile.

“Thanks, Riki.”

His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Anytime.”

You watch him exit his car, circle around the front, and open your door for you while holding a chivalrous hand out just like before. A part of your heart aches with the knowledge he’s still doing this despite not technically having to, and you smile softly as you accept his help. His hand doesn’t linger in yours as it did before, though.

The walk to your front door is silent, and he halts just before the step onto your porch, his hands in his pockets, you pause before approaching your door, turning to him. With the few inches that the porch gives you, meeting his gaze is easier. “Tonight was really fun, ignoring the end of it,”

He chuckles softly, “Glad you had fun, pretty girl.” 

If he didn’t mean to let the name slip he doesn’t show any signs of panic or regret, only meeting your nearly-level gaze with warmth.

There’s a moment before you turn your body only slightly towards the front door, “Goodnight.”

His hand catches your elbow gently as you begin to turn away from him, pulling you back yet giving you time to pull away if you so desire, and you don’t.

His lips meet yours in a kiss that’s softer than you imagined it’d be. His hand moves to your cheek yet pauses just before his skin touches yours, lips sweet and slow against yours. 

It’s over before you can kiss back like you want to, his lips parting from yours with a soft smack that makes your stomach flip. 

“Goodnight.” He bids in a low mumble, barely an inch from your lips when the words leave his and he takes a step back with a soft smile that makes your heart twist painfully, “See you Monday.”

You can only nod, forcing a slight smile and turning to punch in the door code with shaky hands and a heavy, aching heart.

part two.

©heedeungism : do not rewrite, copy, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission.

[junkdrawerfics]

You're Scaring Me

Jasper Hale X Reader

Summary: Request - Can you write one where the reader does something major told her not to do and he gets mad when he finds out and then jasper tries to console her and she’s jus really guilty and upset and then the major comes back out and they talk it thru.

Word Count: 3558

Warning: Angsty maybe. Obviously some unhealthy anger stuff, but it ends well, I promise.

Note: I liked the idea of doing something with the wolves, but felt Jasper/the Major wouldn't ask you to stay away from people, especially if they were your friends. So I took a route regarding reader's safety, since he'd totally go feral over that.

---

Saying Forks was in the middle of a blizzard would be an under exaggeration.

You’d never seen snow like this. You could barely see past your front porch, it was coming down so hard. School had been canceled, of course, and Emmett had convinced the family it would be fun to try hunting with the added challenge of not being able to see.

Jasper had hesitated to join at first, to leave you alone in this storm since your parents were away, but it only took a little soft convincing from you for him to relent.

On one term, at least

“Please stay here ‘til we get back,” the blond repeats worriedly as he puts on a coat - that he doesn’t need, you might add

“It’s not that bad out, Jasper,” you chuckle, eyes glued out the window.

“Darlin.”

His voice shifts subtly. You blink, glancing back at him over your shoulder. Jasper stares right back at you, eyes narrowed, a familiar intensity burning behind them. Your body figures it out before you do, fine hairs standing on end, pupils dilating. A sharp contradiction to the smile that lights up your face.

“Yes, Major?” You ask, barely missing a beat. 

The man takes a step towards you, hands clasped behind his back, shoulders straight. It’d be intimidating if you didn’t know better.

“You goin’ to listen for me?” He asks, voice low, accent thicker than before.

“Of course, Major.”

The barest flicker of a smile pulls at the vampire’s lips. Such a sweet thing. The way you look at him - all wide, puppy dog eyes, attentive and loving - it makes him feel raw with the need to protect you, even if it’s just from the blizzard.

Tender in a way he’s never been, the Major touches your chin, drawing close enough that he can feel your warm breath stutter against his lips as he murmurs, “Then be a good girl and stay put for me. I don’t want you out in this weather.”

You can’t help but soften, fondness curling in your chest. He really is just a soft teddy bear at his core. 

“You don’t have to worry about me,” you insist, curling your arms around his waist, “I won’t go out, I promise.”

“Good.” The Major closes the small gap between you, lips pressing against yours in an unrelenting kiss. It’s all you can do to keep yourself upright as his hand curls along your jaw, drawing you closer, closer, until your head is spinning from the feeling. You’d think he’s going off to war again by the way he kisses you.

You can barely catch your breath when he pulls away. Heat blooms across your cheeks, and you bury your face in his chest to hide it, which earns a low chuckle from the blond. He presses another kiss to your temple, this one softer, gentler.

“Love you, darlin,” he murmurs, all honey and sweet and Jasper again.

You melt against him, voice muffled by his sweater, “Love you too, Jazz. Stay safe, please.”

“I won’t be long,” he reassures you, “Emmett will give in when he realizes all the animals are hidin’ from the weather.”

You huff a laugh. Perhaps. Emmett is stubborn, reckless, and stubbornly reckless. Once he has an idea in his mind, it’s hard to get him off it, like today. But you’re sure Jasper’s right. He’ll give up once he gets bored.

“I’ll hold you to that mister. I’ll be lonely without you.”

“Well, we can’t have that, now can we?” He leans down, catching your lips one final time. You can feel his grin through the kiss. “Just a couple hours, darlin’. I’ll drag him back if I have to after that.”

He’s still reluctant to leave, but the nagging worries are quieter now, enough that he can drag himself from the comfort of your touch to join his brothers outside. You watch them disappear into the haze of snow, like ghosts, before shuffling back to your kitchen to work on some homework.

It shouldn’t be so hard to stay busy until they get back. Right?

---

That’s what you thought, at least. But one hour quickly turns to two, which quickly turns to three and still no Jasper. By the fifth hour, you’ve finished all your work and find yourself staring into an empty fridge with a growling stomach.

Of course your parents would forget to stock up before going on a business trip.

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you glance outside. It’s still snowing, but not…as bad. You could probably make it to the grocery store and back without any problems. And you’d probably get back before they do, so Jasper wouldn’t even know.

Everything would be fine.

You layer up, tucking a scarf tightly around your neck. It might be a little lighter outside, but it’s still well below freezing. It’ll be quick, though. The grocer is maybe a five minute walk, and you only need a couple things.

Popping your hood up, you grab your house keys and venture out, shuffling the whole way there.

---

“Brave of you to venture out in this,” the cashier chimes, scanning your microwave meal and milk - you figure you might as well get stuff for breakfast too.

“Didn’t have much of a choice,” you hum shakily, teeth still chattering as you hand him some cash, “I’d rather be cold for a bit instead of going hungry.”

“Fair ‘nough!” The cash register dings and he hands you some change. “Stay safe out there, miss.”

“Thanks.” You cast him a smile, “You too. Hope it clears up a bit before you have to leave.”

“God willing.”

You slip your gloves back on and heave the bag of supplies from the counter. 

On the walk back, you’re a little less careful, eyes wandering as you tread through the snow. The journey here hadn’t been so bad. Sure you’d almost slipped a few times, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought it’d be. It was actually almost nice, once your face went numb at least.

Your thoughts wander to the food in your hands, pace picking up a bit as you think about how nice a warm meal will be after this. And well earned after a long day of work and a hazardous journey to get it. Maybe you could cuddle up on the couch and turn on a movie while you eat. That sounds ni-

-and you’re falling.

You screech, boots slipping against the ice as the world tilts wildly. Instinctually, your eyes squeeze shut and you wait for the impact, hoping your layers might be enough to cushion the fall.

They are, thankfully. But they aren’t enough to stop your ankle from twisting as you tumble a bit off the sidewalk.

The pain is instant. It pulses up your leg, sharp and fiery compared to the cold seeping into your bones. You suck in a sharp breath, teeth gritting as you bury your face in the snow. It’s all you can do to keep yourself from crying, that stinging sensation starting in your eyes, a lump forming in your throat.

God, you’re so screwed.

—

“Darlin, I’m back,” Jasper calls out softly, brushing the ice from his hair as he slips into your warm house.

Almost instantly, he can tell something’s wrong. Jasper stops, brow furrowing. Usually you’d be bounding up to tackle him by now, a beautiful smile on your lips, asking how things went. It’s something constant, a custom he enjoys more than he’ll admit.

There’s no greeting this time, though. Even as he stills, focusing on the sounds of the house, he can’t hear a thing. No footsteps, no heartbeat. It’s eerily silent, empty. 

You’re not here.

An uneasy feeling settles in his chest. Jasper speeds through the house, checking each room, hoping his ears are just tricking him. Maybe you’re just asleep or reading in some corner. With each empty room, though, the feeling worsens, gripping him by the throat, unrelenting and violent. He’s spiraling, he knows it, can tell he’s walking along an all too familiar edge, blurred between himself and-

The Major pauses at the door to your bedroom. Empty. Your coat isn’t where you usually leave it. Neither are your boots. It leaves little doubt in his mind where you’ve gone.

You didn’t listen to him. 

The blond takes a slow breath, holding back the anger that washes over him, white hot and smoldering. 

It’s rare for you to not listen to him. You know his none-too-gentle requests are for your safety, they always are. Because while Jasper would rather die a million times than see you hurt, the Major would bring the world to its knees if it meant keeping you safe. He’s never had something as good as you in his life and the need to protect that, to protect you, well - that drives him to his knees. And now you’re out in this storm. By yourself.

The door slams as he throws himself back out into the snow to find you.

---

The snow is picking up, you notice glumly as you carefully flip over in the snow. Even the slightest movement makes pain prickle up your leg, but you can’t lay face down in the snow much longer, not with how you’re quickly losing feeling in your nose.

You sniffle, swiping at your eyes to keep the tears away. What are you supposed to do now? It’s not like you can stay out here. Frostbite doesn’t exactly sound appealing, but neither does the idea of limping home with this pain. You could call…No, no, he’d be so mad. You can’t call Jasper.

Not that fate really cares about what you think.

You squeak when a pair of arms suddenly lifts you out of the snow. The only thing that keeps you from screaming is the familiar cold touch of your captor and the mess of blond hair flickering in the snowy breeze. The fear slowly disappears when you realize it’s just Jasper.

Quickly replaced by a tight, anxious feeling in your chest when you see the tense set of his jaw and how the lines in his neck stand out under his pale skin. He’s upset. He’s upset with you and your ankle is still throbbing and your eyes are stinging again and-

You inhale shakily, an apology ready to spill off your lips, but the look he gives you makes it all die on your tongue. His usually stoic expression turns dark, eyes narrowed with barely restrained anger.

“You open that mouth, sugar, and I promise I won’t be goin’ easy on you,” he drawls, low and heavy, accent dripping off each word.

Not Jasper. You bite your lip, eyes immediately dropping to your lap. Definitely not Jasper.

You can’t bring yourself to break the stifling silence after that. Not when you can practically feel the Major’s anger radiating from him, which does nothing to ease the turmoil swirling inside of you. The soldier is never this open with his emotions, usually so careful to maintain a mask of indifference. With each step, you can feel the tension rising, his grip tightening, and your chest almost hurts from how hard your heart is beating.

It all comes to a head when you make it to the house. The moment your feet hit the ground, and he knows you're safe, the reins of his control slip, an uncontainable rage burning through him.

“I told you not to go out,” he mutters, pacing back and forth in your small entryway. 

He can’t stay still, too scared of what he could do. Every cell in his body desires to pin you against the wall, handle you rough and selfish, make you realize how awful it felt to come back and find you gone. But he can’t. He won’t. That’s not what you deserve, he knows that. Jasper would be better at this, he would be gentle, but the Major has never been good at gentle.

You blink at him, wide-eyed from the door. It’s like watching a lion pace at the bars of a zoo, except there’s nothing between you and him. Nothing to keep you safe except him. He could do anything and you wouldn’t be able to stop him. You’re just a human, after all. And the Major has had his share of violence. Even though you know he would never hurt you, you can’t stop your hands from shaking.

“I wasn’t, I wasn’t going to be out long,” you try and explain, digging your fingers into the material of your coat, “I promise-”

“You promised you’d stay put,” he drawls roughly, hands clenching behind his back.

“I was just goi- going to get food!”

The blond grits his teeth, his usual impassive tone sharpening, “What on earth were you thinkin’?”

“I- I thought I’d be back before you,” you spit out, and immediately snap your mouth shut.

The Major stops pacing, every muscle in his body going rigid. You bite your cheek, pulse racing as he slowly turns to you, those gold eyes burning so dark you swear they almost look red. Like blood. Something tightens in your chest. That was the wrong thing to say.

“So you purposefully disobeyed my orders?”

“I didn’t-”

“You decided to be foolish and risk your life goin’ out in this storm,” he growls, slowly closing the space between you, “without anyone knowin’?”

You shrink back a little, panic clouding your head. The Major stops in front of you, frame towering over yours, making you feel impossibly small. Tears prick at your eyes as you shuffle back against the door, pain shooting up your leg as you put weight on it.

“Answer me, darlin.” He doesn’t relent, eyes burning into you. Waiting.

A lump forms in your throat. You bite your cheek, desperate to keep the tears at bay, eyes glued to his boots. You can’t. You can’t do this.

But the blood drains from your face when a fist slams into the door beside you, practically splintering the wood. You can feel it shake against you before settling into silence.

“I’m not goin’ to ask again, (Y/n),” he murmurs, deadly calm again.

You hold your breath, slowly bringing your eyes back up to the Major, and the look on his face makes your heart drop. It’s drawn into something unnervingly blank, cold. No more anger, just…

“Major-“ A tear breaks down your cheek, your voice unbearably quiet. “You’re scaring me.”

The change is instant.

Like light breaking through the clouds, the emptiness leaves his eyes, filling them back with warmth and concern and love.

And you crumble.

Jasper catches you with ease, arms wrapping around you tenderly as he lowers you both on the ground. You curl into him, face buried in his coat as the tears come freely now. You couldn’t stop them even if you wanted, and you’re just so tired, so hurt. There’s nothing left in you, all you can do is cry and cling to him for dear life.

“‘m sorry, I’m sorry,” you hiccup miserably, and Jasper feels his still heart break. “I’m so sorry, Jazz, I didn’t mean to. I just, I just needed food, and it wasn’t that far, and I thought- I thought-”

He hushes you softly, fingers brushing through your hair as he unwinds the swirling mess of your emotions. You can feel it, you’ve always been able to, the subtle shifts and gentle pulls. Never too much, because he knows you wouldn’t want that, but enough so you’re not drowning in them. 

Eventually you’re calm enough to take a full breath, the air stuttering past your lips as you go limp in Jasper’s hold. He draws you tight against him, brushing his hand down to rest at the nape of your neck, just a comforting, constant pressure. 

“You’ve nothin’ to apologize for, darlin,” he murmurs eventually, voice muffled in your hair. “I’m the one who should be. I had no right treatin’ you like that, no matter how worried I was.”

“But-”

“No,” he cuts you off firmly. “It wasn’t right, darlin. It was my fault for bein’ late. He…He’s mighty overprotective of you, and he- I don’t know how to handle myself well when it comes to you. I hope you can forgive me.”

“I do…” You sniffle, the sound soft and sad, but your grip on him tightens. “But I should’ve listened, then I wouldn’t have slipped and gotten hurt.”

Jasper pulls you back suddenly, brows furrowed in surprise, “What? You’re hurt? Where? Do I need to get Carlisle?”

You laugh weakly, his overwhelming concern easing the tightness left in your chest. The tension drips from your muscles, adrenaline slowing. “No, no, I’m fine. I just, I fell…outside and I think I twisted my ankle, is all.”

“Let me see.”

You squeak as he sweeps you up for the second time today. You wrap your arms around his neck as he carries you to the couch. Every touch is slow, careful, as he sets you down and goes to work on getting your boots off. You wince a little when you have to bend your ankle, and he murmurs a quiet apology.

Relief washes over you though when his cool fingers smooth over your heated skin. It’s like the best ice pack ever. You can’t help but sink into the couch with a sigh, eyes fluttering shut.

Jasper purses his lips. It must have been a bad fall since your ankle is angry and swollen. He should have come back sooner, then this wouldn’t have happened. You wouldn’t have gone out in the storm, you wouldn’t be hurt, and the Major never would have scared you.

His thoughts flashes back to the look on your face. The fear glimmering in your eyes as he leaned over you. It’s burned into his mind, replaying over and over.

“Major, you’re scaring me.”

After a few seconds too long of silence, you peek an eye open. Jasper kneels, statue still in front of you, eyes set on something distant. A frown catches your lips, and you lean forward, touching his chin gingerly. Those gold eyes dart up to you, coming into focus, flicking between their usual warmth and a familiar steeliness. You shake your head fondly.

“Major,” you call, hand resting against his cheek, “come on, let’s talk.”

He straightens ever so slightly, but instead of drawing back like you’d expect, the stoic man covers your hand with his own, turning to skim his nose to the inside of your wrist. He takes a deep breath, eyes closed. You sit there, just like that for a while, watching him quietly.

When he talks, his voice is a low, calm rumble, his lips brushing against your skin, “I’m sorry for actin’ like such an animal, sugar.”

You purse your lips. A part of you wants to just forgive him. Move on from all of this and forget it. But then you remember the sound of his fist hitting the door, the way it resounded in your chest in place of your heartbeat. You’ve never felt like that, and you don’t want to feel like that again.

“I know you were worried,” you start nervously, wetting your lips. The Major doesn’t say a word, eyes set on you patiently, just waiting for you to continue. You take another deep breath, “I know you asked me to stay home and it upset you that I didn’t. I know you want to keep me safe. But…but it scared me, how angry you got, and that’s, that’s not okay.”

“It’s not,” he hums in agreement, thumb brushing soothingly over your pulse.

You nod and feel a little more confident as you go on, “I, I might do something you don’t like in the future, and if I do, you need to talk to me first. Nicely, please. I love you, like I love Jasper, but we’re equals, even if you’re a lot stronger and bigger than me. ” His lips twitch a little in amusement. You shoot him a scolding look, which makes him fall back into seriousness. “I don’t take orders. I listen because I know you care, but you need to listen to me, too. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He pulls your hand back, pressing a brief kiss to your knuckles. It softens you a bit. A small smile draws across your lips. “You have my solemn word, it won't happen again. And my deepest apologies.”

“You’re forgiven,” you chirp. The last of your worries melt away at the smile he gives you, all lopsided and charming. You shake your head with a laugh, “But you owe me, mister.”

“Well, of course,” he concedes easily, desiring nothing more than to cheer you up now, “What can I do for you, little lamb?”

Shifting awkwardly, careful of your ankle, you jab a finger at the plastic bag you dropped by the door, “Make me some dinner! Cause I’m starving and that’s what got us into this mess.”

The vampire laughs, fully laughs. It’s something you don’t get to hear often, so you absolutely love it. Love him and the way his eyes crinkle with mirth as he pushes himself to his feet, tipping a nonexistent hat to you. Jasper.

“It would be my pleasure, darlin.”

“Thanks, hun.”

---

This was SO hard to write! I suck at doing anger, because it's hard to represent the unhealthy relationship stuff. I tried to turn it around cause I believe ultimately he's a respectful man, and that's how I want to portray him.

So I hope you guys like this! Sorry if the pacing's weird or anything, I just wanted to get it done!

[systemadministratorclu]

Y'all, I just HAD to share this, because holy shit.

A little background first:

I run the drive-thru cash register window at a fast food joint. One of the shittiest jobs there is because some of the rudest/stupidest people on the planet come through the drive-thru, and one must have near superhuman patience to deal with it. That said, there are customers who come regularly and are not hard to deal with at all. And then there are some-very few and far between-that restore your faith in humanity a little every time they come.

This is about one such customer.

This guy comes every day at about the same time with his grandson (6 years old when this started, recently turned 7) and gets the exact same thing every time. To the point where now either I see their car or I hear the guy say his name (whichever happens first) and I'm already ringing them up. Because of this, the kid now thinks I have weirdly specific psychic powers, and has said he prefers coming to the place when I'm there. He's also decided I'm the best employee this place has. The granddad talks to me like I'm a human, they're always smiling and happy to see me (which means a lot in this line of work, let me tell you) and even on my shittiest days, they've managed to make me smile. I genuinely look forward to seeing these people every day.

Recently, grandson was hella excited to tell me he had a birthday coming up. Reminded me every day "my birthday's coming!" as most 6yo kids do.

Maybe I was feeling a little holiday spirit or something, but one day after work, I went to the Dollar Tree near the restaurant. I picked out a kid's birthday card and a Christmas card. I wrote a message in the Christmas one about what I just explained above, thanking them for bringing some joy to my days, because y'know what? People need to hear that shit. Especially in today's world. And I wanted them to know how much this meant to me. I wrote a little joke in the birthday card about not forgetting the day. Then I looked in my wallet, saw I had a $10 and a $1, and stuck the $10 in the birthday card. Addressed the birthday card to the kid and the Christmas one to kid and grandpa. I give the cards to them on their normal drive-thru visit. They are of course surprised (kid starts yelling "thank you" even though he hasn't gotten to open it yet) but thankful. Then the line moves on.

Fast forward to today.

I see the car come in but I don't start ringing the order up, because it's WAY early for them. I give my usual greeting, then I hear a woman's voice, so I think it's someone in the same kind of car. But when she asks "is this Hal?" I then realize it's the kid's mother, whom he has told all about me and who has come through with him before.

I say yes, and she tells me she's not here to order anything, just to see me, since kid and granddad are sick. I tell her to come on to the window, she does, and hands me a card and a nicely wrapped gift. I asked her to tell them hi for me, she said she would and then the line moved.

I got off on lunch break and opened card and gift.

I was not prepared. At all.

This is the gift...

...the card (no writing on the front).....

.....and the typed note inside the card that actually brought tears to my eyes.

......I'm still not over this. I will be thinking about how this went on for OVER HALF A FUCKING YEAR and I had no idea.

This is the kind of stuff that makes this shitty job worth it. People like this....We need more of in this world. I'm going to hold onto that note so when I feel like shit or I don't matter, I can look at it and know there's a kid out there who I am so important to that he got his dad to write a whole-ass letter, to some random stranger he only knows through his son, inviting me to their fucking house. I'm tearing up again as I write this, just thinking about it.

If that doesn't say "you matter", idk what does.

(And yes, I will go at some point, because how can I not? I'm not gonna dash this kid's hopes and make myself look like an enormous asshole. This is the RL version of being handed a toy phone and told it's ringing)

[lara4eclipze]

“Better than me?”

sypnosis; "she was cute you know?" Megan chimes , "oh so she's better than me?" the older replied snarkly

cw; smut , mean Dom Sophia, sub Megan , fuckbuddies , sorta toxic , recent fics flopping 😔... , might be my last smut for this month cuz I'm planning out a smau....(still not sure tho) , short maybe less than 1k words!

being in a girl group was fun and enjoyable I mean you get to meet thousands of people who love and support you , the downside was freedom

ever since becoming a part of katseye every single member had been personally talked to about the rules and what the contract inscript

no dating , no posts on social media without managers looking thru them , no wearing clothes that were not yet approved by management and the list goes on

it was hard — they were teenagers and obviously they also had feelings , yet to protect their image they had to not date publicly..

—★

resulting in members being in relationships with each other it started with lara and manon — at first it was them being close to each other , suggestive jokes until they got caught kissing each other whilst in manon's room

but megan didn't want a relationship, it was exhausting , combat that with training and constant changes of schedule it wasn't gonna work

but when times like this was happening she couldn't help it , imagine seeing your members be touchy and feeling up to each other— especially sophia god damn that woman

she always held megan close the way her hands wrapped around the younger's waist has her subconsciously pressing her thighs together — the way her fingers trace Megan's tummy and her plump lips that was like a forbidden fruit

—★

"I dunno maybe you should ask her" dani responds to the ginger

"but I don't think she'll approve of that!—i mean how am I gonna ask that?" megan says her voice was like a scream

"you never know.." dani says standing up form the beanbag on the floor to walk out the room

now left with her thoughts and prayers megan decided it's now or never

—★

knocking on the leaders door megan enters greeted by sophia organizing her stickers

"hey" she softly greeted

"hi baby what do you need?" the older replied

fuck,her hands got sweaty , her heartbeat going so fast it probably will explode — calm down you want her to know this right?

"so you know uh- lara and uhm manon right?" Megan stammered

"what about them?" sophia replied her eyebrows raising out of pure concern

"and you know they kinda started as fuck... buddies?— well I was wondering if we can uhm"

"oh you want that with me?"

"yes..?" megan closes her eyes only to feel Sophias hands on her jaw

"okay—if that's what you really want" sophia nods at her kissing her cheeks

—★

and thats how it started — as ashamed megan felt for even asking that or thinking about it she's happy that she tried

yet something will always go wrong , sophia was very possessive over megan , ever since the agreement, she would practically pry off Megan off any other member when they were being clingy or even just talking

—★

NYC was a big city , with loads of interesting places to go to , so the girls decided to go out and have fun

I mean they did have a comeback soon so they atleast had to rest and have fun before that

spotting an ice cream shop yoonchae excitedly told the rest of the girls whom all agreed on having ice cream

"I want choco chip!" yoonchae exclaims

"we'll have a rocky road" manon says signaling to her and lara

"I would like strawberry please" dani grins

"and you megan?" sophia asks as she listed down all the orders in her notes app

"do they have caramel?" megan asks , as she looks at the leader

"yeah , okay sit down I'll order" sophia says to which the girls follow sitting down on the corner booth if the store

"would that be all?" the cashier asks

"yes! and maybe extra tissues aswell" the leader nods and smiles

—★

as their order number got called megan volunteered to get the ice cream, she earned nods from the members

"thank you so much" megan smiles her dimples showing

the cashier was smooth with it she didn't even know how it happened but now she was giving her number to her

"you're really pretty!—maybe we can talk more I guess you have to go right?" the cashier says

"oh definitely!—heres my number" megan says blushing, she shows her phone

as she walk back to the table she couldn't even pretend not to notice sophia staring at her , her brows furrowed

"ooh what was that Megan" daniela teases

"I dunno — she just asked for my number" megan shrugs , as the other members continue teasing her

"and you gave your number to her?" the leader cuts

"yeah?—i mean she's cute" megan says , skeptical about the leaders reaction

—★

as the girls wind down in the dorms megan had this nagging feeling of something will go wrong—sophia has been off ever since the ice cream shop

was it because of the cashier?—or maybe she's too naive how deep sophia's possessiveness goes for her

deciding to know megan knocks on the leaders door , only for the door to open right away with sophia pulling her in

—★

"what was that about" sophia starts her voice was authoritative , stern and not anything like normal

"what was what?" megan replies confused

"oh you know damn well—why would you give your number to her?" sophia snaps

"shes cute you know?" megan replies, she wanted a reaction out of the older — and she was gonna get it

"oh so she's better than me?" the older replied snarkly

the olders eyes blazed , megan gulps — barely processing it sophia already had her pinned against the wall roughly making out with her

the older bit megan's lips for access, which she granted after whimpering

"you're mine fuckin remember that" she spits out as her hands tighten around megan's neck causing the younger to see stars

she continues her rough handling and removes megan's clothes pinching the younger breasts , she does the same to herself shedding off her clothing and leading them to bed

sophia grabs a scarf and ties it around megan's hands keeping her immobile

"so pretty for me" sophia says her long nails trailing around the youngers stomach down to her thighs

she stands up and walks to her closet pulling out her strap

oh fuck

sophia straps it in , seeing how megan dripped onto the bed, clenching on air as she waits for what's next

sophia walks back kissing down the youngers face , her fingers on megan's clit stimulating her before pushing in the whole length of the strap in megan

"fuck!" megan whines her legs wrapping around sophia urging the older to go faster and she did pounding into Megan like her life depended on it

"you like that whore?" sophia says in between her gasps and groans

"mhm-ye-yes!" megan replies as tears fell onto her cheeks due to pleasure

"your cunt so fucking desperate huh?" sophia says , as she felt megan tighten around her

megan didn't know and didn't care either way she felt so good

"close!" megan screams , as her orgasm crashes on her , her legs getting weak and her heartbeat going slower

afterwards sophia pulls out with a wet sound , her hands untying megan's

"I love you" sophia whispers as megan's eyes fluttered close

"I love you too" megan mumurs

[zablife]

My Sun, My Moon and All My Stars (Part 4)

Tommy Shelby x OC (Aurora Sabini Changretta)

Summary: As Aurora begins to heal physically under the care of Tommy and Frances, her heart is wounded by shocking news from home.

A/N: I discontinued this series many months ago, but my lovely moots encouraged me to cont exploring my OC, Aurora. Thru their support, I've renewed my interest in finishing this series and I hope you'll enjoy the journey!

Warnings: language, drinking, mention of death

☀️🌙✨MASTERLIST✨🌙☀️

Part 3

Frances helped Aurora to her chair at the breakfast table carefully, eyes snapping to attention at the slightest wince of pain. When she was seated comfortably, Aurora smiled up at the kind housekeeper and thanked her as the woman placed a linen napkin onto her lap. It was the first morning Aurora had been well enough to join Tommy for breakfast and she surveyed the long table of food, wondering if he was expecting more guests.

“Are you feeding an army?” she asked in amusement, glancing down the long table which held a wide assortment of dishes. 

Tommy chuckled, “I didn’t know what you’d eat so I had the cook prepare some options.” Looking on with concern still etched into his brow he reminded his guest, “You need your strength.”

“It looks delicious, thank you,” Aurora commented, eyeing a large plate of poached eggs, sausage and tomato. “At least you’ll eat some of this so it doesn’t go to waste,” she noted.

Frances just hummed, knowing perfectly well Mr. Shelby wouldn’t eat a bite. He preferred his cigarettes and tea first thing in the morning with little else, but there was no point in telling Aurora this. The last thing Frances wanted was to make the young woman uncomfortable or self conscious. She placed a dish before Aurora and excused herself as Tommy sat back in his chair, tucking his pocket watch into his waistcoat. 

“You’re looking well,” he declared with a hint of a smile gracing his lips. 

“I’ve received excellent care,” Aurora remarked. “Your housekeeper is an angel,” she added, as Frances beamed from the doorway.

“I see you two have made amends,” he smirked. 

“Yes, well…I apologized to her. I was unwell when we met…and I wasn’t thinking clearly,” she explained haltingly. She was ashamed of her behavior when she first arrived at Arrow House, especially after the care Frances had shown. 

“S alright,” Tommy said, reaching for his cigarettes and rubbing one across his lips before lighting it. “I can assure you, she’s seen me at my worst and hasn’t left yet.” He took a long drag and exhaled slowly as Aurora’s eyes caught his across the table through the veil of smoke. He coughed and cleared his throat before mumbling, “Then again people are loyal to those who pay their wages.”

Aurora reached for a slice of toast as she thought about his words, cynical yet practical. She’d often been accused of the same, but her father had taught her that a good business required a firm hand. It was part of the reason she’d always held Enzo at arms length. However, the sentimental side of her couldn’t help but think of him now. If he faced danger because of what he’d done to help her escape. She tried to get her mind off his fate and back to the matters at hand, ready to share information with Tommy.

“I’m not sure if you’re aware, but all the men who came from New York are hired by the Sabini family not the Changrettas,” she offered. Tommy leaned forward onto his elbows, eager to listen as she continued. “The men that are here surrounding Luca follow orders from my father,” Aurora said, catching Tommy’s eye and holding his gaze for emphasis. 

Tommy flicked ash onto an empty bread plate as he shook his head softly. “Loyalty isn’t just about money, though is it? It’s the trust you have in those who know you best,” he emphasized, pointing his cigarette toward her. “For me, my strength is my family. You see we went through very dark days not long ago and for some reason they still put their faith in me during this war. That can’t be bought.”

Aurora bristled at the thought that she was merely a pile of cash to the men in her employ. She cared for them and their families deeply and they her. “Trust is the only definition of loyalty,” she stressed. “My father didn’t become the most powerful man in New York without forging bonds with his men. They would die for him.”

“But not Luca?” Tommy asked pointedly.

Aurora looked away as she slowly began to shake her head, biting the inside of her cheek as she thought of the men they’d already lost. It was true that they had placed their faith in her and the Sabini name. It turned her stomach to think of what had been asked of them and she slid her plate away with a harsh gulp. “Luca thinks I’m the one who subverts his plans and plants doubt in the minds of our soldiers, but the truth is he doesn’t have their respect.”

Tommy shot her a knowing look as he proclaimed, “Then let’s offer them someone they can trust.” Stamping out his cigarette, he pushed away from the table and strode toward her with an open palm. Aurora couldn’t help but reach for him as well in the moment, joining him for a stroll in the garden to continue discussing their plans.

The morning paper sat untouched upon the table, the disturbing headlines from America unread as they passed a pleasant hour strolling in the garden. When Frances came to clear the dishes her fingertips brushed across the stark black and white print, her distress visible to the other members of staff as she repeated in a low whisper, “Antonio Sabini Feared Dead.”

———————-

Tommy paced before his desk, waiting for Polly to offer guidance.  “Does she know how serious it is?” his aunt asked pointedly.

“She didn’t even read the morning paper, Pol,” Tommy answered on a low breath.

“Are you saying she doesn’t know anything?” 

Tommy nodded in confirmation, swiping a hand down his face. “I asked the staff to keep quiet until I think of the words.” He didn’t want to be the one to tell Aurora her fatherly was gravely ill, but didn’t want anyone else to deliver the horrible message.

“Don’t you think you should give her the news?” Polly prodded, watching the color drain from his face. She instantly recognized his fondness for the woman upstairs, softening at the revelation.

“Would she even believe me?” Tommy asked, knowing Aurora still didn’t fully trust the delicate arrangement of their cohabitation.

“You need to tell her as soon as possible,” Polly advised, watching Tommy intently to see if he would heed her counsel.

Striding toward the decanter of whisky, Tommy grumbled a reluctant agreement to her plan. As Polly waited for a definitive reply, he poured himself a generous drink. Then turning slowly from the bar, he answered, “Tomorrow.”

Polly intended to hold him to the promise, wanting a swift resolution to the problem at hand. However, she understood there was something more at play. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Thomas.”

Tommy turned with a jerk, a look of annoyance spreading across his face. “Say what you mean, Pol,” he demanded as he sunk his drink in one gulp.

“You care for this woman so be careful,” she stated emphatically, knowing she’d been correct as his eyes flashed a warning not to interfere.

Tommy furrowed his brow, unwilling to accept his aunt’s pronouncement. “It’s business, Pol,” he insisted.

Polly gave a slow, reluctant nod. “If you say so,” she conceded. However, her eyebrows raised a fraction as she glanced across the room at him. “I’ll say goodnight then.” Taking up her coat in one hand and handbag in the other, her heels clicked swiftly across the floor. 

As the door closed behind his aunt, Tommy dropped into a nearby chair, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he thought of the difficult conversation awaiting him in the morning.

——————-

Daylight would bring new challenges not even Polly could have predicted. As the phone trilled loudly from the hall, Tommy noticed the change in Frances’ voice as she spoke, the nearly imperceptible change of tone enough to draw him from his room in unabashed hurry. 

Frances was surprised at the sight of him clad only in pajama bottoms, rushing toward her as though he understood the importance of the call without knowing who was on the line.

“Who shall I say is calling?” Frances continued in a professional manner, eyeing her employer nervously as she relayed the message. “It’s an Italian, sir. He says his name is Enzo,” she informed him, passing the receiver into his sweaty palm.

“I’m sorry to wake you, Mr. Shelby, but this is a matter of great importance," the foreign caller informed him.

“What’s happened?” Tommy asked breathlessly and without any of the usual pleasantries.

The line crackled with static, momentarily delaying the words that would send Tommy reeling. “Aurora is with you, yes?”

Tommy’s throat constricted, mouth suddenly parched as he fought the urge to shout it wasn’t true. However, he had to expect the Sabinis had been watching him the same way his men had been following their family.

“Your silence is confirmation enough,” Enzo decreed. 

As Tommy growled wordlessly, the other man kept his calm, offering a placation Tommy hadn’t been expecting. “I mean you no harm as I’m only a messenger,” the man explained. “I’ve taken great risk to contact you so Aurora should know…”

“Know what?” Tommy uttered on a low breath, afraid of the answer.

“Her father has died. This is all I wish to say to her, along with my most sincere condolences,” Enzo admitted, a sadness tinging his voice.

The line went dead before Tommy could reply, his hand still clutching the receiver tightly. If he thought the news of her father’s illness would be hard to break, this seemed impossible.

———————-

The moment of truth came sooner rather than later as Aurora joined Tommy in his study a few hours later. She took a seat across from Tommy’s desk, watching him scribble a note on some paperwork before clearing her throat for attention.

“You’re distracted this morning,” she noted, pursing her lips in disapproval. 

“M sorry,” Tommy replied. “That wasn’t my intention. Have you eaten?” he asked, stalling for time. 

Aurora instantly noticed the full ashtray at his elbow and the tension he held in his jaw, asking pointedly, “You’ve had a difficult morning?”

Tommy inhaled a long, deep breath, his gaze wandering to the window for a moment of peace before Aurora’s next statement stabbed into him.

“Vigliacco!” (coward) she spat, shaking her head at him. "Why didn’t you tell me about my father?” she hissed, eyes burning with a bright fury he’d yet to behold even in her moments of deep rage.

“H-how did you know?” Tommy stuttered, mind racing to think of any staff besides Frances who might be privy to that information.

“You're not the only one who talks to Maggie at the exchange,” she countered, jutting out her chin at him.

Tommy turned to face Aurora with a look of repentance shining in his eyes. He had wanted to tell her himself, never meaning for her to learn of something so tragic in such an impersonal way.

“What did you hope to gain by keeping this from me? Did you imagine I’d stay here with you forever?” she scoffed, twisting the knife of rejection. “How dare you!”

He swallowed harshly before offering, “I was going to tell you.”

“Now you don’t have to,” she spat, pushing up from her chair with one last glare in Tommy’s direction.

“I’m going to the church to pray for my father. Don’t follow me!” Storming out of the room, she slammed the door behind herself with a finality that told Tommy it was best to leave her to her grief.

 ——————-

The last rays of sun poured through stained glass, casting jeweled shadows of deep blue and emerald across the empty wooden pews. The scent of polish hung in the air along with a lingering thickness of incense from morning mass. Though smaller than the cathedral she’d frequented as a child, the tiny chapel had a familiarity about it that provided immense comfort.

Blowing out the match she’d used to light a candle in her father’s honor, Aurora knelt down to pray for his soul. It was a surreal moment of disconnection, her lips speaking the words of a prayer she knew by heart and yet her mind wandered far across the ocean. Would anything be different if she and Luca hadn’t left to fight this vendetta? She inhaled a shaky breath as she wondered if the strain had led to his untimely demise. 

“Forgive me, Papa,” she whispered as she made the sign of the cross. She remained in contemplative silence a moment longer, startling at the sound of scuffed footsteps behind her. The rosary she held in her right hand dropped to the stone floor with a loud clinking, met by the disapproving tsk of the person standing behind her.

Aurora turned slowly, brushing the edge of her lace mantilla to look upon Luca’s face for the first time since he’d chased her at the docks.

“Don't look so surprised, principessa,” he chided, fixing his tie in a calm, unhurried display of arrogance.

Aurora felt her entire body turn rigid as she studied the way his lip curled into a satisfied sneer, her eyes darting wildly for anyone who might come to her rescue, but there wasn’t a soul to be found.

-----------------

Tag List:

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[elliespeach]

tear you apart | ellie williams

˗ˏˋ"if your friends won't watch over you, i will." ´ˎ˗

pairing ellie wiliams x fem reader synopsis ellie owns her own vinyl store and the day you wander in changes both of your lives forever. she quickly becomes infatuated with you, desperate for your love that she believes is meant to be. when things in your life begin to spiral, ellie is there to catch you, but you'd never suspect she was the reason you fell in the first place. heavily heavily based on the book/tv show "you" on netflix wordcount 4k warnings gosh where do i start, stalking both cyber and in person, ellie is obsessive, manipulative, a gaslighter, a pervert lowkey, possessive and easily jealous, she breaks into readers apartment and goes thru your stuff, shes also so delusional like top tier delulu, shes based off joe goldberg so i mean put the pieces together. this is all from her perspective, most if not all of the inner monologue is ellie's thoughts about you, the italics is verbatim what she is thinking in that very moment if that makes sense. like joe, all of her actions are justified in her mind, and she doesn't see anything wrong with them. reader has a dysfunctional family. pls lmk if i am missing something! authors note hi hello hi, i have been so excited to post this!! just wanted to clarify this rn, i am bringing in a LOT of elements from the book and show, especially in this part, if it seems very similar thats why. i don't plan on following the plot line for season one, but i needed a good base to jump off of, dont hate me. n yes, readers best friend is shauna from yellowjackets i couldn't help myself. i needed a girl group, sue me. cat is apart of this girl group, not ellie's ex along w dina, also not ellie's ex in this au lol

fuckin’ trash, ellie thought to herself, looking over the torn up vinyl in her hands. the guy who returned it obviously had no fucking clue how to take care of something. especially something so needing of love. she placed the vinyl down on the counter beside the register before stepping into the back of the store, grabbing her tools of restoration. as she rummaged through a drawer, the familiar bell rang from the front door indicating a new customer, but she ignored it and continued searching for the sandpaper she always left laying around somewhere. the last drawer she opened was the winner, taking her supplies, she emerged from the small room into the front of the store, the beads in the doorway swaying as she walked through them. 

thats when her eyes found you, examining the vinyl left on the counter. you hadn’t noticed her yet, too engrossed in the mishandled vinyl. she watched you for a moment as you looked it over, tracing the scratches that lined it. to ellie, you looked to be the definition of a nice girl. sporting a flowy sundress that laid just below your ass. nice girl who likes attention, she thought to herself, looking you up and down from afar. 

she played it cool, keeping her eyes on the sandpaper and cloth in her hands as she made her way back to the counter. you finally took notice of her when she stood in front of you. “oh, hi,” you smiled brightly, to which ellie looked up. “whoever handled this vinyl should be in jail.” a sense of humor, ellie smiled at you, letting a breathy laugh fall from her lips. and an appreciation for vinyls, rare.

“a life sentence, for sure.” she spoke, and you laughed. a laugh that was genuine, not forced by politeness. 

“can you point me to where i could find a david bowie album, ellie?” you asked sweetly, and she had to remember she wore a name tag. flirting with me and you like david bowie? ellie’s grateful its a tuesday afternoon, the store is dead. giving her more time to talk with you. you, who seemed to never stop smiling at her. 

“against the wall,” she pointed. “third box from the left.” she lets you wander over yourself, taking the time to admire the way you carry yourself. you had a pair of red, heart shaped sunglasses resting on your head. ellie could tell you liked to pay attention to details, it was evident in the way you matched your sunglasses to your dress, and she wondered just how many pairs you owned. both short dresses and uniquely designed sunglasses together. her head tilted at the thought, switching her over chewed gum to the other side of her mouth. 

you rifled through the box as ellie’s gaze pierced your back, although you were seemingly unaware. david bowie, she thought again. not another stuck up gen z who only listens to who is in the top one hundred, no. no, you were special. ellie put her focus onto the vinyl in front of her, slowly dampening it with the cloth before grinding the sandpaper over the scratches. but she kept you in her peripheral vision and she couldn’t help but notice you were struggling to find a specific one, or at least it looked like it. 

“need help?” she asked you, keeping her voice neutral.

your body turned to face her, meeting her eyes and a faux pout on your lips.“i think the only one i want isn’t here, or i’m seriously blind.” 

ellie chuckled, coming out from behind the counter, “my money’s on blind, just organized this box a few days ago.”

you huffed lightly, standing to the side while she approached you and the box. “i can’t find the rise and fall of ziggy stardust, it’s one of my favorites.”

of course it is. ellie barely looked in the box before she saw the album, pulling it out and holding it out for you. “i’ll book your eye appointment,” she said with a light grin. 

“ugh, my hero,” you gushed, taking the album from her hands gently. i’ll always be your hero, but something tells ellie that you didn’t really need her help to begin with. 

“c’mon, i’ll ring you up,” ellie led you back to the register and you placed the vinyl down on the counter lightly.

“promise i won’t do what that guy did,” you joked, reaching into your bag for your wallet. 

ellie almost wishes you would. you’d come in a few days later, apologizing for being so clumsy but asking if she could fix it for you. of course, she would say yes. how could she say no to someone like you? “you couldn’t if you tried, pretty sure he did it on purpose.” 

“what makes you say that?”

“just a hunch,” ellie shrugs, scanning the barcode on the vinyl. 

“maybe his dogs got it, or worse, his kids.” you kept eye contact as you spoke, which shocked ellie. a lot of people would break away, divert conversation, maybe even stay silent all together. but not you. 

“if that guy had kids, i’d feel bad for them,” to a lot of people, this comment would rub them the wrong way, and ellie internally cursed herself for saying it. you’re a sweetheart in her eyes, someone who wouldn’t think things like that, but again, you laughed. the transaction was almost over and she was grasping at straws, so she kept going. “guys like him blame everything on everyone else, i wouldn’t be surprised if his kids actually hated him but,” 

your head tilted, waiting for more. to ellie, it looked like you were hanging onto every word she said. and she relished in it. “–thats only if someone wanted to have kids with him, which i highly doubt.” 

“from what i’m hearing it doesn’t sound like anyone would want to,” you’re trusting my judgment. ellie’s lips curled up with your words, and she bagged the vinyl in a plastic bag. you handed her a credit card, which was decorated with flowers along with your name. and you want me to know your name. you could’ve used cash, the vinyl was less than twenty dollars. but no, ellie knew better and she knew you better. your eyes found the scratched up vinyl yet again, “but you can fix it?” 

ellie swiped the card against her own wishes. she’d give you the whole store if you asked with that pretty smile. “it’ll be back in the box within the hour, why? you like pink floyd?”

“yeah, for the most part. i haven’t listened to that album yet,” 

“i can put it on hold for you.” ellie rushes out, and she feels like she came on too strong. you could easily listen to it on spotify but she reminds herself that you’re in her store for a reason. you probably own a vinyl player, an older model you got off of facebook marketplace because the newer ones don’t match your personality. maybe a pioneer or a yamaha, and now shes thinking about how you probably dance around your room listening to music. your response breaks her from her imagination. 

“that’d be great, thanks ellie,” but she can see it so perfectly in her mind, you’d wear a big t-shirt and a dainty pair of underwear. twirling and spinning about, the t-shirt riding up as you did and as you stood in front of her in that short dress her mind seemed to unravel and she had to clear her throat. 

“anytime–” she tacked your name at the end of her words with a smile, handing back your card which you very quickly put in your wallet. her eyes glanced down for a split second, admiring how the dress pushed your tits together before bringing them back up to your face. 

“aren’t you going to tell me to have a good day?” you teased much to ellie’s enjoyment, reaching out for the bag she was holding for you. 

“have a good day,” your fingers grazed hers, and ellie knew it had to be on purpose. a flirt, and a good one at that.

“you too, ellie. i’ll be back for that album.” 

you left the store as quickly as you came, taking your sweet vanilla scent with you. ellie thought about your interaction all day, it consumed her walk home and when she entered her small apartment she fell to her couch and opened her laptop. 

plugging your name into any and all social medias was easy, who could forget a name like yours? all your accounts were public, and very quickly ellie could tell just what kind of person you were. the sweet girl who loved vinyls who had an addiction to posting online. your twitter was filled with random, obscure thoughts and always with a hashtag at the end of them. from time to time you’d tweet about where you were, and ellie tsk’d out loud to herself. anyone could find you within seconds, you need to be more careful. you seemed to tweet about everything in your life and ellie refreshed the page, wishing to see a post about the cute girl in the vinyl shop who helped you find your favorite album. 

yet, there was nothing. and for a moment it hurt her, but the more she thought about it, it was better you didn’t post about her. that means it was real for you, hope remains. 

facebook provided the basics of your family, although the account was inactive. but your parents who divorced a few years back seemed to only post about your younger siblings, leaving her to wonder if they didn’t approve of your lifestyle in the city. she stalked their pages like it was her job and at this point it felt like it was. she discovered that your two younger siblings went off to college out west and your parents even sold their home to be closer to them while still living separate lives. ellie felt pity for you, how could they just leave you behind? 

your instagram feed was an aesthetic one, pictures posted solely to appease your followers. a pretty sunset here, a mirror selfie there, a quick post about the food from the restaurant just down the road from ellie’s shop. there were also posts about your own art, colorful and detailed, just like yourself. a painting you did was the last thing you posted, but this one wasn’t like your other ones, it was black and white and had a lonely floating balloon in the center and the borders were lined with overlapping words. ellie could make out only a few of them, ‘melancholy’, ‘nobody’, and ‘distress’. 

there were lots of group pictures of you with friends. ellie could see you looked more authentic than them, who all seemed to resemble something out of a factory for young adults. you were a pearl in a sea of clams. 

out of curiosity, ellie brought herself to your friend’s pages as well. she needed to see the types of people you spent time with, seeing if they were someone she would approve of for you. one friend made an appearance more than others and she assumed that was your so-called best friend, a spunky city girl named shauna. her own instagram was like an influencer’s guide to posting online, and she seemed like someone ellie would avoid at all costs. shauna’s posts of you always had you in the background, or if you were directly in the frame it was a candid where shauna looked better. she's making herself look better at your own expense, can't you see that?   

your other friend’s social media were bland and unhelpful. ellie brought herself back to the task at hand. she typed your name into google and watched the loading screen. your name brought up a string of links all connecting back to your art pieces you’ve submitted to local papers and art galleries. an artist in new york city, aren’t you ambitious. maybe your parents didn’t like the instability of being an artist. but yet, you still pursue your passion. its admirable. 

what also popped up was a white pages link, with a few clicks, and a small charge to her credit card she found exactly what she was looking for. there wasn’t much she could do with your phone number, texting you would be creepy. there was no way for her to explain how she got it, so the next best thing was your address. which, lucky for ellie, was only six blocks from her own. 

if she could find it this easily, she needed to make sure that no one else did. which is how she found herself standing across the street from your apartment, peering into the windows that had no blinds, no curtains, no protection from the outside world. you were on full display for all of new york. first thing were doing together is buying you blinds. you were lounging around on your coach, scrolling through your phone and periodically shifting in your spot to get more comfortable. 

it was dark now, and again, luckily for ellie, someone standing on the sidewalk of new york wasn’t a weird thing to do and no one paid her any mind. for days she would stand in the same spot, studying your movements throughout your apartment. sometimes you would go to bed on the early side, but most nights you were fully awake, sipping something out of a purple mug which she could only assume was coffee, and drawing lines on a canvas. 

everytime you would take a break and scroll through your phone, ellie would refresh every social media, waiting for a post. your fingers danced on the keyboard and after a few refreshes on ellie’s end, your twitter had a new post. 

@yndoesartstuff: if anyone has tips on how not to procrastinate finishing a wip, please enlighten me

if you just put down your phone, i’m sure you could get it done.

one night she watched as you dipped your wet brush into the purple mug instead of the designated paint water cup. they didn’t even look similar, but ellie laughed to herself while you groaned, tossing your head back before getting up to dump the liquid out of the mug. this would also be the first night ellie gawked at you while your hands dipped below your shorts, she quickly looked around. no one else seemed to notice that you were pleasing yourself with your own gentle hands and her eyes found you again, sprawled out on your couch. 

your back arched, obviously hitting your sweet spot and ellie swallowed hard. blinds. were getting you blinds. 

some days, ellie was too busy with the store to watch over you and she hated herself for it. too tired to walk the six blocks and instead just looking over your social media again, looking through your friends posts to see if you’ve been up to anything. you had never come back for the album, which ellie had finished nearly two weeks ago now. but tonight, as she locked up the store she knew she was going straight to the sidewalk adjacent from your apartment. 

when she arrived at her usual spot she saw you through the windows and you looked too well put together for a night to yourself. you were dolled up and ellie liked to imagine it was for her, you’d leave your apartment and head to the store for the album you said you’d come back for weeks ago. but her hope was squashed when a cab pulled up outside your apartment and a woman who looked way too old started to walk up the steps to the building and entered the main door. ellie had been here enough to know the general look of your building's inhabitants, and this woman wasn’t one of them. maybe someone's mom, maybe she's visiting a friend. she can’t be here for you. no way. 

but through the windows, with no blinds, she saw you open your door for this woman and welcome her into your home. your mom. it has to be. ellie’s eyebrows narrowed when you pulled this woman into a hug, then pulled back and let your lips kiss hers. okay, so not your mom. who the fuck is this?

ellie, whose eyes were going from her phone to the big windows of your apartment, began to search through your online presence and found no traces of her. this mysterious woman who, now, you seemed to be having a highschool make out session with on your couch, was all over you, touching you, kissing you, and worst of all, pleasing you. that sweet smile that had previously been for ellie, was now for this woman and it made ellie’s stomach turn. but she didn’t leave, instead watched while the two of you began to peel each other's clothes off. 

were getting you blinds and were getting rid of this woman. 

the next day while she opened up her store, she couldn’t help but think about you and this woman. she was frustrated, of course. but she couldn’t blame you, obviously this woman was prying on your weaknesses for her own pleasure. taking advantage of you. it sickened her, and she had to know more. she had been through every following list she could think of and still, this woman was a mystery. and as she refreshed your twitter (a new hobby of hers), a new post popped up. 

@yndoesartstuff: lunch date with @shaunamavisxx never felt so right – at hoppers tavern

seeing that, ellie locked up shop way too early. it was fairly easy to make her way into your apartment, all she had to do was play the part. “sorry, my girlfriend hasn’t given me a key to this door yet,” she said with a friendly smile to your neighbor, who out of the kindness of his heart let her into the building. she waited until he was in his own apartment before picking your lock. 

it smelled like you once she stepped inside, and she let the aroma fill her nose as she walked around. it was messy, canvases piled up everywhere along with dirty paint brushes. clothes lined your floor from the bedroom all the way to the kitchen and she had to force herself not to clean it up for you. she examined your paintings up close, admiring how the strokes on the canvas looked. she noticed you draw a small bird in every corner, the bird is plump, uncolored and holding a small twig. it was your signature, and it matched you so well. but, what she really was after was your laptop, she found it sitting on your unmade bed. 

no password? she was shocked, and made a mental note to tell you that you needed to secure your devices. it’s almost as if you wanted her to search through it to get to know you better, and ellie did just that. it was linked to your phone and as she went through your messages they all seemed to be relatively normal. for someone like you, at least. 

loads of messages from a group chat labeled city gals, and she knew it wasn’t you who had named it being as you were funnier than that, and less basic. scrolling up, all the conversation in the chat was merely nothing of note, no mention of this woman to your friends which ellie found odd. maybe just a hookup? but even then, wouldn’t you tell your friends? 

ellie could gauge your friends' personalities through the texts they would send, shauna was most definitely the unnamed leader of this group, probably also the one who named the chat. her texts were mostly about planning activities, meanwhile the others just tacked on with fake enthusiastic responses. even yourself. 

leaving the group chat, she continued to scroll down your messages and found an unsaved phone number which seemed to be the winner. you don’t have her number saved, this is good. a lot of your texts to her went unanswered, left on seen and only responded once you’d ask for her to come over. that usually generated a reply within minutes from this woman, who ellie still didn’t know the name of. it angered her even further, realizing she was just toying you along. only using you for your body when you were so much more than that. 

ellie jotted down the unsaved number into her notes app, saving it for later when she could find out just exactly who this woman was. it was clear from the texts that she wanted nothing to do with you, and you still kept texting her like a sad puppy. it was pathetic, really, but ellie didn’t judge. she knew that your attention seeking habits were brought on by your dysfunctional family, she just wished it was her on the receiving end.

she found herself in your emails and saw you had an abundant amount of unread ones. it was a lot of spam and a waste of time, so she moved on. she decided it was best to go into your search history, restaurants, art galleries that allowed online submissions, sometimes even silly questions that ellie would most definitely answer for you if you asked. 

“how do magicians do their cutting in half tricks?” you would ask her from the couch while ellie made you both dinner. 

she’d call out from the stove, “there’s a fake table, the girl puts her legs through that. the legs you see on the other end are fake, baby.” and you would giggle sweetly as you always did, thanking her for being a know-it-all. 

but as she continued to scroll further and further down your search history, she saw that the day you two had met, you googled “vinyl stores near me” and ellie’s was the first to pop up. she thanked every star in the universe for such a coincidence, but the more she thought about it, it couldn’t have been a coincidence because to her, it was always meant to be.  

suddenly your laptop dinged and a new message appeared at the top from city gals. it was shauna and she was proposing a night out and it didn’t take long at all for the rest of the chat to respond. 

shauna: drinks at our favorite spot tonight?

dina: totally what time 

shauna: like 8 ish? 

cat: sounds good to me

shauna: im with our heavy drinker, she says yes too!! see u guys then

dina: hangin w out us :( rude 

cat: yeah wtf 

shauna: oh hush its no biggie, we’ll see you guys tonight 

ellie sat back as the texts rolled in, heavy drinker? ellie didn’t like the sound of it, and your friends seemed to think it was funny. bet they don’t even watch over you when you’re plastered, leaving you alone where anyone could hurt you. a few clicks on your instagram and she found a group mirror picture in a dirty bar bathroom, and the location clear as day at the top of the post. she confirmed it with a few other pictures and a deep dive of your twitter. gotta stop putting your location everywhere. 

ellie knew your lunch date with shauna would be ending soon and you’d return home to start getting ready for the evening. she shut your laptop down, placing it exactly where it was on the bed before and started towards the door to leave. as she was on her way out, a bright red thong caught her eye. it was so carelessly thrown between the couch and the table next to it and she stuffed them into her pocket before locking the door behind her on the way out. she knew you’d never notice, your apartment already looked like a tornado had been through it seven times over. 

she played with the string of fabric in her pocket as she walked down the sidewalk back to her place, contemplating the night to come. if your friends won't watch over you, i will.

read part two here :)

[danothan]

how about hc + 🚬 for barry?

[ask game]

🚬: headcanon about a bad habit

most of the bad habits that come to mind are just adhd things:

- having to write notes for himself (or someone else having to write a note for him) bc he’s so forgetful

- terrible posture, either thru the hyperfocus slouch or thr inability to sit still

- fidgeting/stimming/vibrating Very Obviously. one stim i’m esp partial to is that he creates flickers of lightning when he shakes/flaps his hands. gimme that speedster audhd combo

but i’m assuming this prompt is more abt vices, and barry’s got plenty of those too:

- overworking himself is a given, probably the worst of any of his habits. he will make no moves to change this

- doomscrolling as i’ve recently discovered 😭💔 barry sums it up best himself: “to me, social media is a danger, a real risk. see, you know all that content you can’t even begin to skim…? i can, and sometimes i do. … it’s a dangerous rabbit hole for me. even with all this raw data, i’m afraid i’ll miss something, somehow.”

- emotional eating but i’m not sure if that’s out of the emotions, or if the emotions work him up sm that he needs to refuel even more than usual. probably some combo of both. most ppl that don’t know abt his accelerated metabolism probably already think he emotional eats, and those that do know probably can’t tell the difference anyway unless they’re close

and bc more things keep piling onto the list, i’ll throw in some miscellaneous habits:

- barry is such a gossip without incriminating himself, an enabler that keeps his hands clean. he’s a great listener to dish out too, and he’ll keep track of who does what for the next hot goss sesh, but he’s much better at playing the passive aggressive game than actively contributing rumors or damning statements. you know that one tiktok audio that’s like “is she the one that’s so fucking annoying and never shuts the fuck up.” / “well i wouldn’t say that, but if i had to say that abt someone, i would say it abt her”? that’s barry. the worst type of social introvert (tho i’ll also add that if he actually were to say smth abt someone behind their back, it’s usually bc he needs to vent/process his thoughts)

- semi-related to that, barry is easy to read, which is made worse by the fact that he’s also analytical/opinionated. it’s so obvious when he wants to say smth but doesn’t. it’s not that he can’t school his opinions, but when he’s deep in thought or has a lot of input, he has a bad habit of letting it show on his face

- accidentally speedtalking when he gets caught up in a topic. also saying things without thinking (“sorry, it just came out!”). also talking to himself. the guy’s a yapper

- i read a fic once that barry always brushes his teeth before he eats breakfast instead of after, which i don’t think is particularly abnormal or unique, but i think abt that every time i brush my teeth before breakfast, so i’m adding it to this list

there’s probably a ton of canon ones i’m missing, and even more hcs i forgot or haven’t considered yet, but w the list looking how it does, i think barry’s had enough 😭

[vraisetzen]

Hello! May I request a short fic or hcs, not directly connected to your long fic, on obsessive/possesive, yandere stalker!au Kokushibo and female reader whose naturally charming & tends to flirt and tease anyone around her to no end😭 (can be both sfw and nsfw, since I don’t think Koku would appreciate his dearest giving away her attention to anyone but him~)

I tried to send a similar request before but it didn’t let me for some reason ;(

𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝑳𝒐𝒐𝒌 — 𝑨 𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆!𝑲𝒐𝒌𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒃𝒐 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝑰𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒕

Author's Note: Thank you for the lovely ask! I actually received two requests for Yandere!Kokushibo; this is my first time writing a yandere fic, and I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it!

Tags: NSFW, 18+, Smut, Stalking, Obsession, Mentions of death and violence, Yandere!Kokushibo, No use of (Y/N).

Summary: The light in your eyes was both fire and ice to him.

No one could fault a man for being too good at his metier, and as a bodyguard to one of Japan's most prominent politicians, Kokushibo had spent years honing his craft — disposing unwanted rivals, eliminating bothersome targets, ensuring the safety of his charges.

His hands grazed along the small of your back, playing you as a harp while you sang his name in pleasure. You, pinned to the floor as Kokushibo plunged into your depths, relishing every pulsating heat that enveloped his length — you must know, by now, how he worshipped at the altar of your body, your very existence the only thing he ever desired.

"M-more, please," you wailed, looking back and regaling him with the sight of your parted lips and flushed cheeks. "I need more-"

And there it was: the glittering stars in your eyes, just like the very first time you caught Kokushibo's attention — a supernova in a sea of lesser constellations that seared forever into his memory.

The only problem was that the light of the stars graced everything in its vicinity without prejudice.

The curl of your lips that you gave easily to your colleagues as you asked them about their weekend; the radiating heat of your body when you sat next to them and leaned in every so slightly; the tendril of your hair around your finger as you listened to a neighbour's complaints with a soft pout; the perfume on your skin that lingered for hours in a room after you made your leave, capturing the attention of those caught in its haze.

He could not stand the fleeting moments when you cast your eyes on another; the biting, Siberian frost that sawed into his bones, casting a mantle over the lava that burnt and ripped away in his guts as he saw you flounce from friend to colleague to acquaintance, speaking to them with a tenderness that should never be heard by anyone by himself.

Fire and ice — the twin spears that plunged through his faculties of reason and instinct, tearing him apart at the seams even as he betrayed nothing on his steely surface.

Kokushibo was nothing if not methodical, and he needed no grand gestures, no dramatic declarations of affection: an orchestrated encounter at a cafe when you stumbled into him and spilt coffee all over his shirt, a rehearsed rendezvous at the laundromat where he had the perfect amount of spare change while you scraped along the bottom of your purse.

The draping of a cloak of chivalry around your shoulders, pulling the wool over your eyes in one fell sweep of his hand — the back of which noted every detail of routine — as you traipsed gaily over the daisies outside the lion's lair.

After all, to be blind meant devoting oneself utterly to the hand that guided it through the dark, and now that he had lent you an inch, you were more than willing to present him with a mile:

Your breathless moans as he pinched your pert nipples, your essence that lavished over his cock. You were resplendent as the beads of sweat that rolled down your shoulder caught the glare of the lamp, the curve of your back vulpine and graceful as you raised your hip to meet his thrusts.

Would you be blind too, to your diminishing satellite of admirers? Kokushibo cautioned you as much about their hidden intentions: Don't give your number away so easily; don't wear that dress; call me when you get home — he knew worst of the men who would mistake your smiles for affection, your teases for flirtations, and your touches an invitation in his line of work, and he need only to defer to his experise.

As a consummate professional, only he could protect you from these dangers that lie in wait. He could stopper it before they took you away from him, and you would never notice they were there.

The crimson that soaked Kokushibo's hands and crusted his nails, the same hands that now dug into the dimples on the side of your hips as he thrusted further inside your sex;

A flick of his wrist on your clit — the same rhythm as when he snapped the spine of the konbini cashier who you dared share your smile after you made your payment;

The tug of your hair around his fingers — reminiscent of the fibre wire that coiled around the neck of a older salaryman to whom you had been kind enough to offer your seat on the train;

The give of your thighs as he spread your legs further apart — a mirror of his hands on the back of a waiter who smiled as you complemented the tiramisu, his eyes lingering on your glossed, pillowy lips;

Would the wetness between your legs should be enough to wash off these stains?

"Kokushibo," you whimpered, in the moment he brushed against that spot inside you, making you squirm beneath his tight embrace. Your mouth dropped in a circle as he teased your clit once more, sending sparks of thrill dancing across your tense, quivering frame.

How perfectly he fitted inside you, the contours of your body moulding seamlessly against his hands — as if the gods themselves sculpted you for him to hold and possess.

Kokushibo slipped an arm across your front, tossing you to lie flat against the carpet. Red, crescent marks dotted across your collarbone, with others blooming into scarlet flowers where he had sunk his teeth into your softness — the sweet ambrosia of your arousal when drank from your sex, the tenderness your skin as it broke beneath his canines.

Come morning, when those blossoms have withered into violet bruises, you will never know another's man touch on you; Kokushibo will make sure of it himself. He would hide you away from the harshness of this world, and savour every inch of your body with his hands and mouth — as the French did with the caged ortolan, draping their heads with linen to shield their decadence from the judgment of God.

Why would you need to be anywhere else? Or seek the arms of another? He alone was perfect for you, as you were perfect from him.

Your ankles crossed behind his neck, unspoken bliss wild in your dark irises. The cadence of your moans soared as your nails clung to the broad sweep of his back, the pistol of your loins gaining an impatient edge.

"Don't stop," you cajoled, a whimper caught in a hiccup as Kokushibo felt you tense beneath him, your thighs trapping his face in a serpentine coil. The slick heat of your sex enveloped his cock tightly while you reached your climax to shuddering gasps, biting the back of your hand to hide your unrestrained moans.

And there it was once more: the sparkle in your eyes, brighter than before while you rode out your high. The heat of your gaze, together with clenching of your walls was enough for him to spill, too, in a mess of groans buried into your hair. You shivered at the dousing of his cum in your depths, your pleasures mired in a dripping, obscene mess that seeped from your entrance.

Behind closed lids, Kokushibo could behold the afterimages of your torched gaze, and he would do whatever it takes to keep them there, until it became a part of the inferno that raged unabated inside him, stoked by every single distraction you referred your attentions: friends, family, strangers — as he opened his eyes to look down at you, before kissing you.

He would have it — your heart, body, and soul — until nothing remained for anyone else, not even yourself.

"All mine," he whispered against your lips.

For my longer writings, visit my AO3 here.

[kookygranger]

Fairytale of Hawkins: Part Two

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

A cheesy hallmark Christmas fic inspired by @bettyfrommars's tow truck!Eddie and prompts #1 & #6 from Betty and @allthingsjoeq's Holiday Prompt Party

Summary: A petting zoo, Secret Santa and mistletoe never being around when you need it.

Warnings: reader doesn't have family, reader and Eddie are in their late 20s/early 30s, swearing

Word count: 5.3k

Author's note: Okay, it's 11:54pm on Christmas Eve where I am and this is far from perfect, but I wanted the people who enjoyed the first part to have this for Christmas so here it is. I hope you're all safe and you get moments of peace and joy these holidays.

Part One | Part Three

You were handsome You were pretty, Queen of New York City When the band finished playing They howled out for more – Fairytale of New York, The Pogues/Kirsty MacColl

3 Days 'Til Christmas

“So uh, what’s goin’ on with you and Robin’s friend?”

Hawkins town centre is frosted with a light dusting of snow that fell in the early morning hours. Picture perfect, like a Hallmark Christmas card. The hum of festive cheer in the crowds doing last-minute gift shopping and partaking in the charming small-town seasonal activities is mostly drowned out by an argument between Dustin and Lucas, Max and the younger Sinclair sibling rolling their eyes in annoyance. They sit, impatiently waiting for the rest of the party to show up, on the edge of the fountain frozen over with the cold snap that swept through town at the beginning of the week.

Steve’s perched on the back of a bench a few feet away, ignoring the squabble as Eddie toes the ground in front of him.

“First of all, I know you know her name. And B, nothing is going on, she’s a great girl and a really good friend to Robin.” Steve shrugs, “We both told you you’d like her.”

Eddie squints, his leather jacket opening to reveal a dark red sweater as his pocketed hand gestures in question, “Why me specifically?”

Steve shrugs again, “Rob and I both thought you’d hit it off. It just feels…right. Don’t you think?”

“I mean yeah, yeah she’s beautiful. Cute as hell when she gets flustered. But she’s a city girl–used to more than this, right?” He looks around at the small-town square, filled with little kids dressed in matching sweaters and flustered mothers pushing prams with clenched smiles. “She’ll be gone well before the ice on the road thaws.”

“So? What’s wrong with having a little holiday fling?”

Eddie sucks his teeth, “I don’t think I can.”

Steve lets out a low whistle, “You’re that head-over-heels already?”

“No.” Eddie shakes his head, cheeks flushing pink from more than just the bite to the wind, then sighs. “Think if I have a fling I might just get there though. This is Robin’s fault she shouldn’t’ve talked her up so much!” Steve chuckles at his friend’s distress. “Doesn’t help that she looks like a damn angel when the snow’s kissing her eyelashes.”

Steve rubs his face, “Jesus Christ.”

***

You and Robin had vowed to hold off drinking for the rest of the holidays after your night at The Hideout, which was followed by a day spent on the couch, groaning about loud noises as Gremlins beamed across the TV in the darkened living room. When you’d finally managed to peel yourselves away from the nest you’d made out of blankets, large diet sodas and greasy fries from the drive-thru, you decided to cross off making Christmas cookies from Robin’s list of “holiday activities that could make the grinch’s heart grow.” She assured you weren’t the Grinch in this situation but it certainly felt, pointed.

The misshapen sugary treats weigh down your tote bag as you walk arm-in-arm with Robin towards the designated meeting spot.

“I keep making a fool of myself in front of Eddie.”

Robin smirks, “You’re doing fine.”

“I can just be so,” you hold out your hand in a vague gesture and grimace, “sometimes, you know?”

Robin laughs, “Oh, I know.”

“Thanks.”

She squeezes your arm that’s wrapped around hers and shakes her head, “Everybody loves you I promise. And if they don’t yet, they will.” You both round a corner, the fountain and a group of animated college kids coming into view. Steve waves from across the street, Eddie turning his head in your direction then away again quickly when you make eye contact.

“Right.”

***

“C’mon now everyone keep up.” Steve claps his gloved hands together, his cheeks pink and his brows furrowed in faux admonishment as he leads the group towards the petting zoo set up for the weekend in the parking lot of Bradley’s Big Buy supermarket. You can tell by the glisten in his eyes how much it means to him to have all of his found family in one place.

You laugh softly when he claps Dustin on the back and the younger boy tries to shrug off his embrace.

“He’s in his element this time of year.” Eddie falls into stride next to you, the both of you now bringing up the rear of the boisterous group.

You nod, a small smile permanently etched on your face from the company. “I can tell.” You walk the rest of the way in silence, watching the antics of the strange mix of personalities in front of you with a distant bemusement as you tried and failed to come up with something to say. Had you called him sexy at one point the other night or did you dream that?

The stench of hay and something less savoury wafts over you as you all enter the car park under a bright red banner with ‘Petting Zoo’ written in white cursive on it. You’re about to ask Eddie if they did this every year when a middle-aged woman stops you with a brochure held out in front of you.

“Have you found Jesus?” She’s standing by the entrance in a matching woollen navy-blue coat and skirt, heels on her stocking-clad feet and hair quaffed perfectly in a bob accentuated by the pearls on her ears and neck.

You don’t even think about your response before it slips out, “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise he was missing.” You can see Eddie smirk out of the corner of your eye. It was just meant to be a light-hearted joke, but the woman clearly didn’t see the humour.

She purses her lips in a thin line and snatches the brochure back out of your reach. “I should’ve known you were one of his type.” You keep walking along, her voice changed back into a sweeter version as she asks the next person the same question behind you.

You turn to Eddie, his eyes downcast and shoulders higher than they were a second ago. “What type are you?”

He rubs the back of his neck underneath the black knitted scarf that matches his beanie. “Uh, devil worshipper according to this town.”

“Oh, I’m actually lapsed. Found all that sacrificing was getting in the way of my day job you know?”

The smile that catches at the corners of his mouth makes your tummy flip.

“I know whattya mean.” He nods, all dramatics with his feigned seriousness, “So much laundry with all those blood-stained clothes.”

“Right? Such a hassle.” You both laugh as you look at each other. “Do they actually think that?”

Eddie shrugs, “It was worse when I was in high school, but I still get the odd bit of holy water thrown in my direction.”

“Why?” You shake your head and frown, serious this time. “Just because you listen to Motorhead?”

“That and I was the leader of the Dungeons and Dragons club in high school. It’s a game for nerds really, but it kinda got swept up into the satanic panic that was going around at the time.”

“That’s so…dumb.”

He huffs a laugh through his nose, watching your feet walk in sync together. “Yeah, I guess it is.” His head snaps back up, “Wait, how do you know Motorhead?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” You bump his shoulder and scoff, “Did you just judge a book by her cover Eddie the devil worshipper?” He opens his mouth to speak but his reply is cut off by an animalistic snort that has your head turning in curiosity. You gasp as you spot the furry brown creatures leaning into patting hands over a wooden fence, “They actually do have reindeer here!”

Eddie grins as your face lights up. “Did you think they were lying?”

You shake your head, “I thought they’d just be regular deer. I’ve never seen–“ You grab Eddie’s leather-clad arm in your excitement and he looks down at your touch before you bound off towards Robin who’s laughing at your reaction.

El and Max have to coax you into actually patting one when you get closer, the antlers much more intimidating in person. They giggle as you squeal and pull back your hand when a cloud of condensation escapes from the deer’s nostrils as it huffs loudly.

You turn to laugh with them, distracted as the reindeer leans in closer, your body tensing when you feel its hot breath on the back of your neck before it snatches your scarf from around your shoulders. The girls yell as you whip around to see it trot off, barely processing what just happened when you feel a warm hand on your back, Eddie’s frame coming into view as he slips past you and jumps the fence. He’s able to grab the scarf out of the creature’s mouth and sneak back onto your side of the fence before anyone who works there even notices.

You’re speechless as he hands your scarf back to you, El and Max cheering along with Robin and Nancy who’d noticed the commotion.

The younger girls are giggling again when Max interrupts the silent look you and Eddie share while the scarf is held in between the both of you. “You’re a real knight in shining armour this week Munson.” He looks up at Max as she and El walk away, looking for their boyfriends to ask if they’d brave a reindeer pen for them.

“Thank you, Eddie.” You take the scarf from his hands, grimacing at the wet patch on the light fabric. “Don’t know if you can get reindeer drool out of cashmere though.”

He snorts, “Maybe you shouldn’t have worn something so expensive to a petting zoo, princess.”

You brush off the nickname, not entirely sure if it was meant in jest. “You know I’m a feminist, I’m gonna need you to stop coming to my rescue Eddie.”

He smirks, “I don’t think that’s feminism, I think that’s stubborn independence to the point of detriment.”

He was taunting. Flirting really, but Eddie forgets it takes time for people to figure out he’s not just being grumpy all the time. That he isn’t as mean as his initial wariness of people might suggest. For a second he forgets that you haven’t always been a part of this group – that you don’t know him like the others do.

The awestruck look that had graced your face drops. “Jeez okay, I didn’t realise we were reading each other.” His eyes go wide as you shrink into yourself. “You know, I realise you probably don’t like me very much and you might feel like I’m ruining your time with your friends at Christmas, but I am trying Eddie.”

He hates the way your eyes begin to water.

“Robins told me so much about all of you, I know how much you all mean to each other and I really didn’t want to intrude on that, but she insisted that it would be okay. She’s letting me spend the holidays with her family because I don’t have one, and I don’t want her to regret that.” You look down at your feet, “I’ll make sure to stay out of your way from now on.” 

Eddie clenches his eyes shut as you walk away to find Robin or anyone else who won’t mind you joining in.

“Nice work Munson.”

***

Once the group have had their share of reindeer petting and eaten the cookies you and Robin had brought along with some hot cocoa from a nearby stand, everyone gathers in the town square again for the annual Secret Santa. You’re huddled together with Robin, head leaning against hers as you steal each other’s warmth and the group gathers in a circle, Steve tossing pieces of paper with everyone’s name written on them into his beanie.

Eddie keeps stealing glances at you as Steve goes around the group, dramatically holding a gloved hand to each of the teens’ eyes and yelling, “No peeking!”

Eddie feels shit. He can’t believe he’s made you feel unwelcome. Well, he can. He knows he can be guarded when it comes to letting new people into his life, but you’re one of Robin’s best friends – spending Christmas with her because you don’t have anywhere else to go and he’s made you feel like he doesn’t want you here. Asshole.

When Steve gets round to you and Robin, he holds the hat out to her then moves on to Jonathan and Argyle next. You figure you’re too new to the group to partake in this tradition, which seems fair. Steve rounds out the wonky circle with Eddie, dropping the beanie with a “whoops” before fumbling on the ground with it, then holding it out to Eddie. You notice him squinting his eyes in suspicion, wondering what’s going on between them when Steve comes back to you.

“Lucky last,” he smiles that charming cherub grin of his and you reach into the beanie to pull the last piece of paper out.

Of course it would be.

Steve reminds everyone of the budget and secret part of Secret Santa with a pointed look at Mike, who frowns in offence before the group starts heading off in different directions.

Robin moves to stand in front of you. “Who’d ya get? Do you need help? I can bend the rules for you seeing as you don’t properly know everyone.”

“Yeah, I feel like I’m a bit disadvantaged.” You laugh nervously, “I uh, I got Eddie.”

“Oh great! He’s easy. Big nerd, you know what he likes.” She starts counting off on her fingers, “Music, DnD, Lord of the Rings and all that fantasy stuff.”

“Yeah, I guess.” You shrug.

She hooks her arm with yours again, “C’mon let’s go together, I got Nancy. I feel like you’ll be better at picking something for her than me.”

***

After an hour and a half, you’re about ready to give up. You helped pick out a faux-leather journal and fountain pen set for Nancy from Robin, but you haven’t been able to find anything remotely good for Eddie’s gift. Everything feels impersonal like something he could’ve just picked up himself and the last thing you want is for him to be disappointed that you got him for the gift exchange. Just another friend-only activity that your presence has ruined.

You’re currently browsing through a second-hand bookstore, hoping to find something you can curl up on the couch in your apartment with during the rest of the holidays, while Robin’s popped into the bath and body shop across the street to look for a gift for her aunt.

Your eyes scan the hardbacks in the fantasy section, fingers running lightly across the spines when they come to a stop on a light green book. You tilt the book from the shelf, admiring the mountains and dragon carved in navy blue adorning the border. This could be perfect. Carefully opening the worn cover, you find an inscription written in the yellowed pages that makes you smile. You close the book softly and head to the counter to ring it up. Maybe he wouldn’t be disappointed.

Dear Henry,

In celebration of our mutual liking – I hope Bilbo becomes a friend as well.

Happy Birthday,

Love, your Arwen

***

Christmas Eve

The butcher paper wrapped gift sat heavy in your palm as you’re greeted by Steve in his living room when you and Robin walk in. You hold up the present in question, keen to get rid of it before your clammy hands ruin the red satin bow decorating it, and Steve points you in the direction of the pile under the colourfully lit tree. You take a moment to admire the personal ornaments, the glint of a red 20-sided dice reminding you of the other inhabitant of this apartment.

The famous Harrington Christmas Eve party had been talked up by Robin for months. In her attempt to get you to Hawkins, she promised you a preview of the King Steve you’d heard her tease him so much about (which he vehemently denied was a thing), potently spiked punch (which you would not be partaking in) and impromptu games out on the street that would cause noise complaints from the neighbours.

And now that Steve and Eddie shared an apartment? Apparently, rowdiness was a prerequisite.

You’re more nervous than you should be as you settle in, taking solace in Jonathan and Will’s quiet company on the couch as you sip on a non-spiked mug of egg nog. It isn’t until half an hour later that Eddie even shows up, despite this being his apartment.

He walks into the living room, cheeks red from the cold, snow still sprinkled on his shoulders and in his hair. He’s followed closely by Dustin who’s rugged up in an assortment of knitwear that looks like it was definitely made by a doting family member, and grins when everyone greets him.

“Finally, you two.” Steve walks in from the kitchen with a bowl of freshly poured potato chips. “Everyone’s here, we’re getting ready for Secret Santa.”

Eddie just nods at him, offering you a tight-lipped smile when you catch his eye before he walks over to the tree to place something under it with his back turned to you.

While everyone gathers in the living room, he ducks out. Returning without all the extra layers, his crisp white t-shirt takes you by surprise and your eyes wander to the silver chain around his neck.

Pull it together, honestly.

“Okay, I’m first!” Robin walks across the room to the tree by the front window, only to be stopped by Steve’s arm.

“What? Why are you first?”

“Well, someone has to be dingus. Why not me?” 

“Uh, maybe we should let our guest be the first?” Everyone turns their head towards you and the attention makes you sink further into the couch.

“Oh, no Robin is always first.” You wink in her direction, then frown. “Wait, did that sound weird?” You look at Jonathan and Will who both chuckle, the older boy giving you a shrug.

After Robin tears through her present the decision is made to go anti-clockwise around the room. The closer it gets to Eddie who’s sitting on the couch opposite you, the more your palms begin to sweat. You don’t think your heart could take him being indifferent to his gift, and you hated that you cared so much about what he thought. What was this town doing to you?

When Steve hands Eddie his gift your back automatically straightens, perched perilously on the edge of your seat you grip the mug of egg nog in your hands. He takes his time with unwrapping, not diving straight in and tearing like you would’ve expected, even draping the ribbon around his neck once he’s untied it. When he gets to the gift the room is mostly silent, save for the Christmas carols playing from the stereo in the corner. You’d already clocked The Kinks, The Damned and Ramones – sure that the boy who held your last ditch gesture in his hands had picked the tunes.

Eddie’s face is stoic as his fingers run along the cover of the book. When Dustin and Mike, sat near him spot what it is they share exclamations of “Sick”, but you’re more interested in the metalhead’s opinion. You take in a deep breath as he opens the well-preserved cover and you watch his eyes read the inscriptions.

After much back and forth you’d decided to leave your own message next to the original one. Writing in pencil in case he wanted to erase it.

He rubs his freshly shaven jaw then his eyes find yours across the room. They’re soft. Pools of awe that match the tone of his quiet voice.

“Thank you.”

You offer him a small smile, “You’re welcome.”

“How did you know it was from her?” Dustin pipes up from his seat on the floor.

“Lucky guess.” His eyes hadn’t left yours until then, and you watch him scan the message again.

Dear Eddie,

I know you’re already well acquainted but I thought what better company on a long winter’s night than the second best party to go on adventures with (second only to your own of course).

Merry Christmas,

C.G.

xx

You feel his eyes on you as the rest of the gift-giving takes place around you. Wiping the sweat off your palms now that the moment was over, but the tension you’d felt hadn’t lifted from your chest – only tethered itself to the cause that was sitting across the room lightly brushing his thumb over your offering.

You’re the last in line to open your Secret Santa, but the attention of the room has been caught up in the gifts that have already been revealed. You’re admiring the new camera bag Jonathan is turning over in his hands when Steve taps you on the shoulder. He holds out a small parcel that fits in the palm of his hand and winks at you when you take it, before walking over to sit by Dustin.

You look down at the parcel wrapped in shiny red paper, tugging at the twine tied around it when you feel the weight of the couch shift beside you.

Eddie takes up more room than Jonathan who’s now sitting on the arm of the sofa across from you with Nancy’s arm draped over his leg. He’s manspreading a little, but the only reason you notice is because of the close proximity of his knee to yours.

“You got me,” he gestures to the gift in your hands, “I mean I got you. Well, I guess both are true.” He holds up his new copy of The Hobbit and smiles softly.

You look down at your lap again and begin to unwrap your present, Eddie’s leg bouncing next to yours. A glint catches your eye as a pair of dangly ruby earrings is revealed.

“They’re not real obviously,” Eddie scratches his jaw, “and Robin said you’d be happy with anything, like a snow globe or candy but I saw these in the drugstore and thought they’d look good on you.”

You smile, “Eddie they’re really pretty. Thank you so much.”

He blows out a puff of air, “You like them?”

“I love them, honestly. Oh, look we match!” You hold out the earrings next to the ring on his finger sporting a small ruby stone.

His cheeks are dusted in pink as he smiles, “Yeah, I guess we do.” You ask him to hold the earrings you had in before as you swap them. “You don’t have to put them on now.”

“I know, I want to.”

His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, mesmerised as he watches you put on his earrings. “What does C.G. mean by the way?” He opens the book in his lap again.

“City girl.” The frown on his face troubles you momentarily before he speaks again, doe eyes pining you down once more.

“Thank you. It’s really special. You’re really–“ He trails off, eyes searching yours as you wait for him to finish his sentence. But he doesn’t. Instead, he gets up so abruptly that you flinch. “I gotta uh, find something…I’ll be back.”

You turn to Will who had been not so subtly watching the whole exchange from the other side of the couch and gives you a sympathetic smile when you say, “I still don’t know where I stand with him.”

***

For the next twenty minutes, you only see glimpses of Eddie as he darts in and out of rooms. Stomping around like he’s on a mission, a crease etched deeply in his brow. While Nancy and El are admiring your earrings in the kitchen, you hear a squeak of shoes on the linoleum before you see a blur of brown hair disappear around the corner.

You excuse yourself, finding Eddie alone in the hallway, leaning up against the wall with his arms crossed and head tilted to the ceiling.

“Eddie, are you okay?” He shakes his head and huffs out a bitter laugh. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s always goddamn mistletoe at these things. Steve always gets drunk and tortures people with it, but then this year? Of course there’s none!”

You step closer, now standing in front of him but he doesn’t meet your eye. You’re confused. “Why do you need mistletoe?”

“So I have an excuse to kiss you.”

Oh.

OH.

Wait, what?

“Why don’t you just…kiss me?”

His head snaps down, eyes flickering back and forth between yours with a frown. “Can I?”

You bite your lip to stop the enormous smile threatening to creep onto your face. “Yes Eddie, you can kiss me.”

He pushes himself off the wall, crowding your space and reaching a hand out tentatively to touch your face, thumb gently stroking your skin like he had the book. He searches your eyes for any hesitation before he leans in slowly until your fluttering lashes tickle his cheek and he can’t take it anymore. The kiss is as soft as the snow falling in flurries outside, one elongated peck before you're both leaning in for another, and another. Turning tender as he reaches his other hand to pull you closer by the waist. You can taste peppermint on him, probably from one of the candy canes hanging on the tree, but it’s the warmth from his chest and the heady scent of his cologne and smoke that clings to his shirt that has you lost in him. So lost that when his thumb gently pulls down on the side of your mouth, you let him in with no hesitation, his tongue now spreading his warmth from the inside.

“Wow, that got R-rated really quick.” You jump and lean back, not moving far with Eddie’s grip still on your waist. You look down the hall and catch Robin nodding with a look of slight disgust on her face next to a smirking Steve standing there with his arms crossed.

Eddie bows his head and sighs, “Really? Think you can maybe take the commentary somewhere else Harrington?”

He holds up his hands in defence, a leafy twig with white berries hanging from his hand. “Hey, I was just coming to give you two a push, but it looks like the party’s already started.”

Eddie pinches the skin in between his brows, “For fuck sake.” You cover your mouth with your hand at the sight of the deep blush creeping into his cheeks, which deepens even further when you both hear Dustin yell from the other room.

“Did he kiss her yet?!”

Eddie groans and moves his hand to the small of your back to guide you out the door, flipping off the audience at the end of the hall before grabbing your coats off the hanger. He helps you into yours and leads you outside the apartment building by your hand.

For the first time since you arrived in Hawkins, you don’t notice the cold that greets you, focused entirely on Eddie’s warmth as he crowds you against the brick wall of the building. He holds one arm above you, almost enveloping you in his soft waves when he leans in.

That intense gaze has you shying away again, opting to play with the zipper of his jacket instead of looking back.

“You really liked your gift that much huh?”

“I really like you.” He tilts your chin up.

“I didn’t think–“

“I’m sorry if I made you feel unwelcome,” he frowns. “I have trouble letting people in.”

You shake your head and he moves his hand to stroke along your jaw. “It’s okay, this is a very special family I’ve walked into. I understand why you’d be wary of anyone disturbing that.”

“You fit right in. I promise.”

“Thank you, Eddie.”

He smirks, “Also, I’m just really, really bad at flirting when it comes to drop-dead gorgeous city girls.”

You grin, “I think you’re probably better at it than you think.”

He leans in, lips a breath away from yours, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

***

Christmas Day

The screen door shudders under your touch as you knock on the trailer, your gloved hand coming back to wrap around the translucent cake plate tucked into your chest. You hear muffled footsteps before the inside door swings open to reveal a beaming Eddie on the other side.

“Hi,” you smile.

You step back to let him open the screen door and he meets you with half a step out, grabbing the plate from you before placing a gentle kiss on your lips that has you desperate for more.

“Hi, sweet girl. C’mon in.”

You follow his warmth, “There’s only half left of the cheesecake. I’m sorry Robin and her family already ate most of it, then I kind of hid it when I realised I didn’t have anything to bring over – I think it tastes pretty good though. And I brought this wine, which is all they had left at the store and it only came in this gigantic bulk size, I think it might be half water–”

You feel Eddie’s smile as he presses his lips to yours again, “It’s okay sweetheart. You didn’t have to bring anything.” “I know, but I wanted to make a good first impression and we both know that I…don’t.”

He chuckles, “Trust me, I was blown away as soon as you stepped outta that car.”

You roll your eyes, snappy reply dying on your tongue when you hear a door open and an older man walks down the short hallway towards you. “Hi, Mr Munson.” Eddie squeezes your shoulder as you step forward with your hand held out and introduce yourself. “Thank you so much for having me, I hope I’m not intruding on your Christmas.”

“Nonsense,” he frowns at you, the resemblance uncanny, and brings you in for a tight hug. “Please call me Wayne, darlin’. Honestly, Ed’s been bouncing off the walls waiting for you to come so you might be able to do me a favour and get him to sit still.”

“We were just watching Gremlins.”

“Oh, I love that film! I didn’t get to appreciate it the other day because I was hungover–I mean…we were busy baking cookies.” You feel Eddie’s chuckle on the side of your face.

“She brought baked goods and wine, Wayne. All for lil’ old us.” He squeezes your shoulder again.

“It’s not any good.” You hold out the cheap bottle to Eddie’s uncle.

“Oh hell, anything you can uncork, uncap or unscrew, I’ll drink it.”

You laugh, shoulders relaxing under Eddie’s subtle massage.

***

You feel light.

Floaty and fuzzy with the laughter coming from beside you, your body sinking into the worn couch and Eddie’s gentle stroking of the back of your hand grounding you in the moment. The Munson’s, like almost everybody else in Hawkins had welcomed you into their home with open arms.

It was Christmas and you were curled up on the couch with a boy who meant something to you. Allowed to be a part of a family if only for a short period.

“So little miss, you headin’ home tomorrow?” You turn to Wayne, who’s sitting in his armchair, eating a piece of the cheesecake you plated up for him with Eddie’s help.

“I was planning on it, but you know the airport gets so busy during the holidays and Robin’s still gonna be here so…I think I might just stay till New Year, actually.”

Eddie’s head snaps from the TV set towards you. He grips your hand a little tighter to get your attention.

“Is that right?”

You turn to him, “Yeah. Are you–are you gonna be around?”

“No,” he shakes his head, frowning in that way that’s starting to make your heart flutter, “I gotta work. Lotta damsels in distress needin’ me to rescue them from the side of the road.” You feel the heat creep up your neck as Wayne rolls his eyes at his nephew.

“Wanna ride shotgun?”

~ THE END ~

Tagging: @eddieslooneymoonie, @micheledawn1975 – thank you for asking!

[crack-whore-who-fuckedup-already]

Be My Witness {13}

Part 13 - Alastor, The Radio Demon

Word Count: 7.9 k

Content Warnings- assault, mentions of drug use, mentions of cannibalism, Reader referred to as 'property', brief animal cruelty, Val being a dick

Authors Note- YOU GUYSSSS hey. been a while huh? sorry about that.... guess that tends to happen when your romantic partner of three years cheats on you *twitch, twitch* ive been goin thru it yall... it hasnt ALL been bad though! i opened and closed a production of Ride The Cyclone in which i played Jane Doe hehe,,, if youre not familiar with that show, GO CHECK IT OUT its right up the hazbin fandoms alley- youll love it ;) ENJOY THIS CHAPTERRRR

Previous < Chapter 13 > Next

Masterlist :)

SONG: Tangled Up (Lokee Remix) by Caro Emerald

~~~~Then~~~~

Dim lights allowed The Radio Demon to slip into the bar through the shadows. Not that he much needed to; he was already a regular at this joint, his smile common place among this particular bunch of seedy demons. Being friends with the owner, he already had a booth set aside for him in the back corner. So when it was suddenly inhabited, no one blinked an eye.

It was a lively night, the bar being almost full to capacity. There was laughter, shouting, singing. Every table had a different energy that only added to the growing chaos of the space.

There was music playing. A small stage at the back of the room was home to a grand piano. It stood tall atop the riser, shining under the bright stage lights while its sound resonated around the bar. The pianist wasn't terrible, though The Radio Demon was sure he could do much better, given the chance. A server came by and placed a drink on the table in front of the Overlord before walking away without a word; a routine well established.

The atmosphere of the room shifted and the already dimmed lights all but turned off, leaving the stage lights to draw everyone's attention back to the lone instrument. The pianist was finishing out his piece with a delicate creep of his fingers on the keyboard and, with the final note struck, the murmuring crowd clapped lazily.

Someone shouted from the audience to get on with the main act, far more crudely than necessary. This wasn't one of those kinds of joints, you see. Music and dance of course, but not for the sake of fleshly desire, but rather, for fun and lighthearted enjoyment with friends. Or foes, if the occasion really called for it.

The heckler must have been someone brought in by tonight's headliner. Outsiders, if The Radio Demon had any particular opinion about it, which he did. But as he understood, the club needed the money. Still, his disgust was evident, even with his ever present toothy grin.

On the subject of headliner- other demons were stepping out onto the stage now, their hands full of horns, woodwinds, and string instruments. A drum set was hauled out onto the stage. They all settled into their seats as a final figure slinked out behind them.

The figure stopped just outside of a designated spotlight. Their hand raised, fingers swirling in the light as if they were testing its warmth.

The crowd was silent, captivated by the simplicity of the luring motion. 

Then, with two slow strides, the figure stepped fully out of the shadows.

A woman. Full figured. Not too pale. Certainly nothing much at first glance. Though the longer he looked, the more he noted the finer details of her demon form. Her thick and lean thighs, her black tipped golden brown ears, the pearly white markings. She turned her back to the audience for a moment, quickly and silently addressing the band that had just walked out before her. The Radio Demon let his eyes rake across her backside, with far more earnest curiosity than most of the surrounding hungry patrons were, no doubt. He was irked to find a full, fluffy tail. It twitched and fluttered with her movements and the Overlord was glad when she finally turned back around, hiding it from his view again.

So. Another cervidae.

He's not surprised to see it. He's come across demons with similar forms to him before. Always a strange mix of emotions when he does. It always seems to end with them dead… Organs strung out and roasting to a delicious crisp. Literally, delicious. All because they dare approach him with lustful intent, those damn fools.

Of course, on one hand, it was disgruntling when passes are made on him, and without so much as an attempt at getting to know him- rude. On the other, it gave him a very valid reason to go full feast on the unlucky bastards.

His mouth was already watering in preparation for a bite of demonic deer flesh.

Now, now, Alastor. Who doesn't like a little show before their dinner… he mollified himself. Sitting back with a sip of his drink, he resumed his inspection from afar.

Her sanguine red dress draped black tassels down to her knees, sweeping across her thighs each time she shifted in her black strappy heels. Her hair was done up in a curly bob, her sweeping brown locks held in place by a black feathered headband. She wore a bright red lipstick, subtly tying the whole look together. 

She scanned the audience in silence, her eyes slightly narrowed as they adjusted to the bright lights pointed towards her. 

As her head slowly turned from one side to the other, the spectating Overlord noticed a gleam on her skin. Not of makeup or of perspiration, but of something much, much finer. Like the shimmer of a spider's silk catching the sunlight. 

Like that of magic.

The Radio Demon shifted in his seat again, throwing his elbow over the side of the booth and crossing his legs with piqued curiosity.

Well, if the performance turned out to be subpar, at the very least he could dissect her use of magical abilities. Illusion magic, if he had to take a wild guess.

With a smooth, languid motion, the woman grabbed the mic on its stand and pulled it close to her lips.

“Nice turnout tonight, huh folks?” She said with a small chuckle. 

As if on cue, the demon sat behind the drum set counted the band off in a low command. “One, two, three, four!” The bass kicked in immediately with the drum. She spun around at the sound of the band behind her, a hand to her chest as if they had frightened her. The Overlord saw right through her act. 

She turned back out to the crowd with a beaming smile. “All this for little ole me?” She breathed a small sweet laugh before continuing on. “Now, I know I'm not a house regular, but if you all give me a chance,” she settled into a soft sultry sway of her hips. “I'm willing to bet we can convince our dear friend Mimzy to let me come back and perform for you all again some other time, yes?” 

She looked pointedly out into the crowd while she spoke, raising her hand and fluttering her fingers in a flirtatiously friendly way. Her wink was so smooth, the Radio Demon almost missed it entirely.

He followed her gaze and, instead of finding a drooling patron like he had anticipated, he found his friend and the owner of the club. Mimzy raised her glass and nodded back with an eager smile.

“Feel free to get on your feet and dance along if you feel oh-so inclined,” the woman added just before her voice raised suddenly in song, her little introduction perfectly timed with the bands. For someone who worked with and around music quite often, The Radio Demon was surprised to find himself caught off guard by her seamless entrance. 

He took another drink.

The first verse was tame. She stood in place and sang, maybe swayed a bit here and there. It was obvious she enjoyed her voice, the way she closed her eyes happily as she warbled on a note. It was… cute. 

He sneered to himself. 

Things picked up when the chorus came round. Her imperceptible sway turned to dedicated sweeps, the tassels on her dress moving along to her hips. Her shoulders swam through the air with soft but precise movements, accentuating the beat of the song.

Then came a dance break. The chorus ended and she sprung away from the microphone, arms swinging side to side, her legs criss-crossing as her feet twisted, grinding into the floor. 

The Charleston. And a pretty damn good one at that.

She worked the space she had, making the small stage feel big. Variations upon variations of combinations. Of arms and legs, hand and feet, head and hips. She moved, giving herself willingly to the music, all with an elated smile on her face.

The beat reeled in just a bit and the woman swooped the microphone off its stand before stepping off the stage completely. She wove between the tables as she sang, trailing fingers along table tops and shoulders alike.

The second chorus came around and she pulled a patron up to dance. A scrawny winged fella with three eyes who seemed unsteady on his feet. But he moved anyway, awkwardly stepping to the music. The woman encouraged him, taking his hand with her free one and shaking him every few beats to loosen him up a bit. Another little dance break came and she twirled away from the awkward demon who lingered standing for a second before promptly sitting back down.

Another stood up a few tables away, rather abruptly and with a precarious teeter in his step. The Radio Demon recognized him as the heckler from earlier, his disheveled appearance matching his unfortunate attitude. Several drinks in and no signs of stopping. There's nothing truly so pathetic as that. And not the amusing sort of pathetic.

The rhino-esque heckler staggered forward until he intercepted the doe on her path. He reached for her clumsily, greedily, and as he almost made contact, the doe side stepped him easily.

It was a tense moment, one that the woman handled rather elegantly. With her smooth evasion of the advance, she shuffled on towards the back of the room as if nothing transpired; right towards The Radio Demons booth. 

The buck shifted in his seat, feeling somewhat challenged. This doe had another thing coming if she thought she would lay a finger on him. 

Then again, one quick dance never hurt anyone…

He huffed at himself.

But the pesky little heckler wasn't satisfied. He spun around and lunged, his hand roughly clasping her shoulder and forcing her to face him. She did so without much of an opposition, cleverly intending to use the moment to redirect him to dance with her instead. 

But the demon didn't want to dance. 

His arm slinked around her waist and yanked her to him. She's lucky she wasn't singing in this moment or her words surely would've caught in her throat at the force of the pull. She laughed off her obvious discomfort while her hands found purchase on his shoulders, steadying herself against him after how he grabbed her. She still swayed, desperately trying to regain control of the situation after the rude man hijacked her performance. But when he dipped his head to catch her in a kiss, she gave up trying to be polite.

A knee came up and stuck his groin, earning a gasp from the surrounding audience. 

The band didn't falter.

The heckler doubled over, cradling his crotch for a second before he made another feeble attempt at reaching for her. Her foot raised this time and found his chest before sending him to the floor with a soft shove, minimal force needed thanks to his intoxicated state. 

The rhino was reeling, his unexpected trip to the floor leaving him dumbfounded. He sat up, blinking through his confusion and just about flinched as the doe approached him. It seems she aimed to make a lesson of him, the way she stared him down like a teacher scolding a student.

“Treating girls like a yo-yo,” her foot found the bridge of his horn, just above his nose. Then she slowly, commandingly pushed him all the way back down to the floor again. “Is a no-no of a monumental kind.” She leaned into him, putting a significant amount of weight into her foot. The tassels fell away from her thigh, exposing to the Overlord the lean muscle that fluttered there as she exercised her strength. “If playing with your string happens to be your thing, it's easy to say to both ‘oh, never mind’.” Even while she sang her words oozed disgust, and she bared her teeth in a disapproving sneer.

There was a wolf-whistle at her little display of power, the audience not at all put off by her tougher side. Her head snapped up at the sound, her eyes wide as her ears flattened back on her head for a split second before they righted with a twitch. The first genuine sign of insecurity. It was gone in an instant; she beamed another blinding smile at the crowd.

But The Radio Demon lingered on her accidental slip of emotions. So there's depth of character, after all… He mused to himself with a sip of his drink. 

He was pleased to have witnessed the flash of- now, what would he call that particular expression? Dread? Dread seemed apt, what with the way her eyes were wide as saucers for that split second before she pulled herself together. 

To see a good performer crack was a classic, simple pleasure to The Radio Demon. One he didn't see too often anymore because, well, actors down in Hell simply didn't seem to care about clinging too closely to their characters. 

She seemed to care a little too much. 

Not a second later, she sprung back into the chorus. With no time left to complete her path to the rear booth, she abandoned it, cutting back towards the stage once more and finishing out her song.

The audience hoot and hollered.

The Radio Demon finished his drink. 

Then he stood and left the club.

A pair of heels clicked on the floor behind him, rushing to catch up to him on the sidewalk.

“Alastor! Alastor, sweetie! Where are you off to in such a rush? The main act only just started!” 

Alastor spun around, genuinely happy to see his friend. Not so happy to have his business called out on the street for everyone to hear.

His smile twitched, his hands clasping behind his back. “I saw everything I needed to see.”

“Ah,” Mimzy tksed. “She didn't live up to your standards, is that it?”

“No, no. The performance was quite adequate.” He thought about how the doe had had her sights set on his booth. The way it made him squirm in his seat and his hair stand on edge. It maddened him, frustratingly so. “I'm simply not in the mood to dirty my new suit. Besides, you wouldn't want me to scare away your patrons, would you?”

There was an edge to his voice, evident by the crackle of his radio filter. The kind of edge that would send any other sinner running with their tail tucked. But not Mimzy. No, Mimzy liked to poke the bear with the stick, just to see it's reaction. She wouldn't care if there was one murder or fifty in her club. Fun is fun.

“Come now, Alastor,” she crooned. “Y/n's a perfectly respectable young lady. Y'know…” She leaned in suddenly, her voice quieting as if sharing a closely kept secret. He found himself leaning in with intrigue. “I can introduce you two if you'd like.”

And there it was. The pieces all came together in an instant. Mimzy was doing what Mimzy does best; stirring the pot. She had directed the doe -this Y/n- to go toward his booth.

Alastor straightened, his smile straining.

“Oh, Mimzy.” He rested his hand on her shoulder with an uncharacteristic gentleness. It betrayed the irritation she knew he was feeling. She grinned up at him knowingly. “Always stirring up trouble, you.”

He would not be indulging, nor encouraging his friends' use of his demon biology for anyone's amusement. He didn't kill those other cervidae because he wanted to -though he did end up reveling in their deaths. He did it because they had crossed a line. Gotten far closer than they ever should have. 

The doe lives for now, by the grace of that damned heckler he supposed.

Mimzy crossed her arms, rolling her eyes as she huffed in annoyance at her plan going awry. Alastor only hummed in response.

Then, without another word between the two, The Radio Demon turned on his heel, took three paces, and disappeared into the shadows of the night.

~~~~Now~~~~

“Alastor will do just fine. Though, I do like the creativity!”

“We are receiving word that a new player has entered the ongoing turf war! Let's go to the live feed.”

With a swivel of her ear, Y/n relinquished her pointed glare and turned away from the buck in front of her. Her eyes settled on the TV display instead. Just barely, through the growing crowd around them, the doe made out the shaky image on the screens; her best friend pulling the pin on a grenade and lobbing it across an absolutely battered battlefield.

Y/n sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth. “Fuckin’… Angel Dust…” She finished with a growl.

She hadn't realized it was this intense. If she had known it was going to get news coverage, she would have told him to make himself scarce when they were on the call a minute ago. Leave it to Angel to go find trouble. And by the sounds of it, the fight was just starting to ramp up. It would be at least another hour and a half until Angel made it back to NorthPen. That is, if he made it out in one piece.

Angel was an experienced fighter no doubt, but the ex-mafia man could be a bit reckless sometimes. And the streets of Doomsday District are among the most unforgiving. A handful of times he had come home with one of his arms held limply in his hands, completely severed off his torso. She took great care stitching him back together when that happened. She prided herself on the minimal scarring her handiwork left on the spider. Though, on one of those staggeringly sober days she had not long ago, she found a scar on the shoulder of his lower left arm that was new to her. Fleshy and gnarly, his soft white hair growing back in wild patches; certainly not Y/n’s doing.  Guilt reared its ugly head when she came to the conclusion that that particular injury had to have happened when they were on the outs.

She can't imagine Valentino was very happy with Angel about the damage to his complexion.

Just like he won't be happy with the news that two of his top stars have moved out right under his nose.

It occurred to Y/n she had very little time to get the last of her belongings before all hell broke loose at the Vees Tower. Not that she really needed anything too badly from the tower at this point. She had already gotten the bulk of her things, only really leaving most of her decorations up in her old room to give the illusion of still being lived in.

But Fat Nuggets, poor thing. Angel had decided to move his dear pet out towards the end in hopes of avoiding suspicion. Now that plan had seemed to have backfired, potentially putting the little piglet in danger of Val's fury. Y/n was determined not to let that happen. So she added one last stop on her list of errands; V Tower.

Her eyes had remained glued on the screen while she was deep in thought, watching as Charlie tried to defend herself against the brutal newscaster that is Katie Killjoy, and failing miserably. Another clip of the fight flashed on screen and Charlie attempted to cover the image with her body, but only ended up with the image covering her. The joys of green screen and live television.

Y/n dropped her head in a frustrated sigh.

“Friends of yours, I take it? They look like a handful.”

With a hefty inhale, the doe met his gaze again. “Not that it's any of your business, but yeah, actually. They are.” She glared again before finally taking off down the sidewalk. 

Her strides were quick, but so were his.

“Where are we off to?”

Her ear flicked in exasperation. “We?”

“I'd like to be of assistance.”

“With what?” She all but spat, refusing to humor him with a glance.

“With your silly hotel.”

Now she looked at him. She openly stared, her brows furrowed skeptically. She couldn't help it. After the tomfoolery she knows they both saw on those TVs? She’d feel like a fool herself if she weren't trying to get away from her boss.

Besides, she might not know who this demon is, but she could feel the power radiating off of him like a furnace. An overlord, no doubt. What could he possibly have to gain from Charlie's endeavor?

“Listen, Alastor was it? I really, really don't have time for… this.” She gestured between them. His brow quirked. “So, please? Take your jokes and just…” With a final dismissive motion of her hands, she stepped to walk away again. His cane shot out, barring her from going anywhere.

“You misunderstand, dearie. I'm not joking. I really, truly wish to help!”

She blinked. “Alright, even if I believed you -which I don't-, it's not my hotel, so…”

“But you are a resident, yes?”

Perhaps it was her high wearing off, perhaps it was lack of self preservation instincts, but she contemplated being honest. Y/n was getting so tired of being defensive. With his disinterest in sex and the fact that her soul is already sold off, she didn't see much harm in telling the truth. Even if he did kill her, it would mean a few days off of work at most.

It didn't matter in the end, as he spoke again before she could even respond.

“If I am to be of service to the hotel, I should make myself available to the needs of its residents, no?” 

The weight of her bag was gone from her shoulder before he was done with his sentence. It reappeared on his own shoulder, materializing with wispy shadows. Swishing casually against his hip as he turned, his front now faced the direction she had been fixing for. But his eyes remained on her, his elbow extended pointedly in a strange chivalrous offer, his smile unnaturally wide but confusingly sincere.

She stood steadfast, her eyes remaining glued to the buck. She felt a bit uneasy, but she wasn't afraid, nor was she entirely distrustful. It disturbed her. Sort of made her wonder just how truly broken she had to be to get to this point of trusting random demons on the streets of Hell.

After a long minute, she tore her gaze away from his and took a sobering step back.

“I have places to stop at.”

Then Y/n took off down the street, not permitting herself to take his arm.

“I've always fancied a good stroll.”

____

Y/n booked it to Downtown Entertainment District, darting hazardously into the street a handful of times, The Radio Demon hot on her tail. He partially wondered if the doe was trying to lose him, what with her brisk pace and her carelessness. He's convinced if his intimidating presence wasn't there to scare demons into slowing their vehicles, they surely would've hit her.

Alastor took to talking to her, more so as a means of distracting and slowing her down. After jumping from topic to topic and observing her reactions to his words, he finally found something that piqued her interest and held her in steady conversation; her early career.

“No, no! Virtue of a Sinner came out before Wind Watcher,” she interjected, eagerness beginning to bloom in her voice. “We filmed in a bar in CentralPen that's not there anymore. God, it was gorgeous, themed after the deep south's natural beauty. The Last-... hmm… The Last Something.”

The buck's ears wanted to twitch at her mention of the old joint. “The Last Breath,” he crooned, willing his ears to stay still. He'd be damned if he were to show genuine affection in any capacity beyond his voice.

When Alastor first landed in Hell, The Last Breath had been one of the first and only places he felt welcomed and comfortable. Being new to the scene and not having yet earned the title of Overlord, the buck spent days eavesdropping and planning before he began striking deals. He started with simple favors, a little bit of this-for-that, even gaining himself a stake in the very bar itself for a brief moment in time.

Then he started playing dirty, like every other great and powerful Overlord did. He used his wit and his words, outsmarting those demons until he had everything he wanted in his palm, including the souls of the sinners around him. As soon as he had the strength and power, he moved in on The Last Breath and claimed the section of territory as his own. 

The establishment was no longer running at that point. But the location still stood. A dreary building on a street lined with other decrepit buildings, on the very outskirts of his newest territory. Every now and then he'd have the inside cleaned up and restored to its original lively state, as if it'd been open all along. 

Oftentimes he wondered what stopped him from fully reopening the bar. He certainly had the experience and the managerial skills. And the thought always excited him, being able to pay homage to his birthplace and all. But then he'd get to the specifics and the details, and it all really came down to production staff. Entertainment was becoming cheaper and cheaper these days, performers caring less and less about the quality of their acts.

Alastor had high standards in that regard.

“The Last Breath! Yes! Best mint julep around, I tell ya. Shame they closed.”

Alastor hummed in contemplation. “While I'll admit, their julep was spectacular, there's a lounge in Cannibal Town that has one that's to die for.”

The doe's ears shifted back quickly on her head before straightening, his signal so far that she was put off by his words. “If you say so.” 

“Perhaps you'd be interested in a trip sometime.”

“Maybe,” she breezed right on through the awkward pause. “Anyway- we wanted to use the bar to film Wind Watcher in but they had already closed by then.”

“A shame indeed. Now, you say Virtue of a Sinner came out first, but didn't its events happen after those of Wind Watcher?”

“And just what do you mean by that?” 

If the Radio Demon weren't mistaken, that was a grin he saw creeping on her face.

“The characters that you play in the movies? They're the same, just at two different points in their lives, no?”

The doe hummed through a huff of air. “Well, not officially. But Wind Watcher always felt sort of like an explanation, I guess, for Virtue. So that is how I played it,” she finished matter-of-factly. Then she was smiling at him suddenly. Fully and deeply impressed. Despite her smile nearly blinding him with its unexpectedness, he also noted her ears perk up, swiveling toward him inquisitively. “You know, I don't think I've ever spoken to anyone who's put that together… How did you come to that conclusion?”

“Why, it's all in the mannerisms! Your character choices are very nuanced, dearie. There was a very particular twitch of your ear that gave it away and I simply couldn't unsee it after that.”

Y/n just about bounced on her feet. But she remained composed and hopped up onto the sidewalk instead, side stepping a group of demons window shopping outside the building she approached head on.

Alastor knew damn well where they were. Downtown Entertainment District. If he didn't know these streets by heart already, the big ugly disgrace of a building gave it away. Alastor had hated it since it first began construction. They paved over one of the city's last remaining natural parks for it and it disrupted the skyline view from his own radio tower in Uptown. It didn't help that that over-zealous little weasel of a television demon inhabited it now. And Alastor was no fool. He knew from the start who this doe's employer was and the connections that the moth had. Alastor had been careful to cloak himself completely from Vox's view, not quite ready to make his presence known.

Y/n didn't seem to notice as Alastor's smile turned sour.

“The ear twitch, yes! I'm so glad someone noticed that! I tried so-” She took a deep breath, letting her body catch up to her brain, her excitement getting the better of her. Her voice lowered and she slowed her speech. And, suddenly, Alastor found himself hanging onto her every word. “I really tried to find the moments where it would serve the story, you know? Convey the emotions the lines wouldn't.” She pulled them to a stop near a wall outside the building and turned to him dutifully. “You, sir, are a very astute observer.”

“Sir?” He tsked at her, rather teasingly. “Why, I haven't even paid for your services, dearie.” 

Her defenses went up again. He could tell by the way her ears swiveled back for a split second. And her brow was oh-so serious as she stared him in the eyes. But then her ears righted as her expression softened, and the smallest of smiles graced her lips. She rolled her eyes as she looked away timidly. She didn't want to succumb to his humor.

“Yeah, okay…” With a deep breath, she changed the subject. The small smile remained. “Wait here just a minute. I'll make it quick.”

Alastor hummed in response. Then he stood tall, summoned his cane, and took to observing the streets around him. His eyes were squinted in what Y/n perceived as guarded curiosity. But his toothy smile was ever present.

The doe began to wonder whether the grin was a stubborn choice, or if it was ingrained in his demon form.

She didn't let herself linger on it.

Y/n dodged through the stone archways of the outside foyer before finding the lobby doors and darting in.

There was a certain buzz that permeated the air when Vox was in the building and accompanied by Val's fiery presence. Their sadistic chemistry created a smothering static that left Y/n with her muscles tense and her hair standing on edge. But she didn't sense that now, so she proceeded sure-footed to the residential floor. 

Making quick time of getting to Angel's room, Fat Nuggets sat waiting on the bed. And the second Y/n found him, he turned in place, stomping his little hooves at her in greeting. 

“Hi, sweet darling boy…”

She spared the time for a pet a or two before she started gathering his things. Toys, treats, food and water bowls, litter box, and anything else the creature needed for his new home. It all went into his carrier haphazardly. Then she slipped him into his harness, clipped on his leash, and scooped him up into her arms. With a toss of the carrier over her shoulder, Y/n was scurrying from the tower once more.

The lobby had filled with more demons, bustling from shop to shop. Many of them held bags upon bags of Voxtek products, eager to get their hands on the new spying system the Television Demon just made publicly available. Y/n eyed them suspiciously, hoping they didn't notice and recognize her as she slipped across the room and through the front doors. She sighed a breath of relief when the warm outside air hit her skin. 

Alastor remained where she had left him. But now instead of his relaxed, leisurely state, his eyes had fixed narrowly on something down the street, his claws gripping the microphone atop his cane with restrained force. He looked right past the doe as she turned the corner.

But Y/n noticed none of it while the piglet in her arms squirmed and writhed, demanding her attention. She barely spared Alastor a glance as she pulled to a stop in front of him and readjusted Fat Nuggets in her grasp. 

“Tell me dearie, whatever did stop those dreamy stage performances of yours.”

She finally looked up at the buck, the question having come out of left field. But his eyes weren't on her. 

“What?”

“Did you lose your passion? Or was your manager simply incompetent at his job.”

A sharp wolf-whistle sounded from behind the doe.

“Alastor, guapito! What a surprise to see you here.”

The backhanded insult by itself came as a shock, but hearing Valentino behind her sent a tremor down her spine. If Y/n's eyes weren't wide before, they certainly were now. Her grip on the piglet fastened and she swallowed as she blinked away the alarm on her face. 

She turned slowly with a small, tense smile.

Val was striding down the sidewalk towards her, an entourage trailing behind him. Y/n recognized some of the faces -other workers bound under Val's stern hand. None of them acknowledged her beyond a glance, their attention focused fully on their pimp. When Valentino came to a stop in front of the two deer, the groupies swarmed him, their hands, wings and tails fluttering and grabbing at the moth with fervor. The shifting mass of demons around Valentino was chaotic at best. If Y/n were at the center of it, she'd feel like she was suffocating. But Val seemed more grounded than ever, not at all affronted by the assault. In fact, he grinned as they jostled him, crying and mewling for his attention like starved creatures begging for a morsel of food.

If Valentino heard Alastor's insult, he didn't show it.

Radio static fizzed beside her. “Is it such a surprise, really? I used to frequent these streets long before you arrived, as I'm sure you recall, Valentino.”

So there's history here. History that Y/n knew nothing about, but, judging by the sound of it, they didn't end on entirely good terms. Whatever pleasantries they were exchanging were tight-lipped and passive aggressive, and Y/n shrunk into herself to avoid being caught in the crossfire. They spoke over her head, their tongues spitting with impatience, their tones rising in contempt.

“That's true, I remember. I also remember your attitude towards my industry,” Valentino said flatly. He started again slowly, and with an airy sigh. “You're right though, I guess I shouldn't be so surprised. If anyone was going to lure you back in, it would have been Y/n here, huh, mami?” And suddenly his attention was on her. His hands too, one on her hip, one brushing her hair off her shoulder, and another under her chin, fingers hooked over her jaw. They all tugged her toward him, into reach of the morphing mass of limbs. She braced against Val with her only free hand and willed herself to remain calm while she tried to shield Fat Nuggets from the fray. All the while, Val's hand on her chin held her face up to his, his eyes searing into hers as he punctuated his point to The Radio Demon with a simple taunt. “You always were obsessed with her.” 

Val's lips met the corner of Y/n's, slowly and deceptively tender. He softly pecked at her cheek, working his way over her tense jaw and down her neck until his teeth grazed her pulse. 

Y/n went rigid. 

Not because of her boss's lips on her. No, she was quite used to that. It was his words that made her pause. 

They concerned her. Or maybe they intrigued her? Thrilled her in a way she wasn't quite familiar with... In any case, if Alastor really was obsessed with her like Val said, he did a damn good job of masking it as mild interest.

The buck chimed back in without missing a beat, thoroughly unimpressed by the moth's sad display of power. “Well, who wouldn't want that voice serenading them through the radio waves? It's a shame you hide her away in those disgusting, dingy clubs of yours.”

Valentino pulled back sharply, shooting Alastor a glare as his fingers went from Y/n’s jaw to her throat, grasping possessively and giving a small, heated shake.

“And you think she'd get any more attention being stuck behind a microphone?”

“Vox seemed to think so when he was willing to bargain her away for the sake of partnership.”

Y/n dared a stunned look towards Alastor. For the brazenness of his words, but also for their implications. Bargain her away? Was that even something Vox could do? Would Val ever allow that? Not likely. What would her life look like if she lived under Alastor’s thumb instead of Valentino's?...

“And yet, here she stayed, a dumb cock-slaving slut,” Val boasted, his hand on her throat squeezing tightly as he dragged her attention back to him. “Once a whore, always a whore. Isn't that right, Y/n?” He leaned in with the intent of finally kissing her square on the lips. And she would have let him, for the sake of moving things along and getting back to the hotel sooner. 

But just as his lips brushed hers, the pet bag she carried on her shoulder slipped and slung forward, bumping into the moth. He pulled away slowly and inspected the carrier and piglet in Y/n's arms. 

“What's all this?” The fingers of one of his free hands snatched Fat Nuggets’ ear and gave a little twist as he pinched it forcefully, his fucked up way of teasing the creature. Fat Nuggs oinked indignantly as he tried to pull out of the moth's reach. “Finally taking the pig to be made into bacon?” Valentino chuckled, and the mob around him mimicked his laughter.

The doe held her breath, not sure how to explain away why she had all the piglets' things with her. Val didn't leave her time to figure it out though. He just barreled through onto his next thought.

“Voxy told me you were mentioned in the news.” He pecked her quickly on the lips. “How exciting.” Another peck. “I hope you haven't gotten yourself in any trouble, mami. Should I be worried?”

The crowd around him fell silent, their movement slowing to an imperceptible pulse. All their eyes were on her, waiting for her response to his question. And there was a burning at her back, nervous heat rising up through her spine, over her neck and scalp, and making the velvety fluff of her ears stand on end; the feeling of Alastor's eyes burning holes through her.

She felt like she was on stage and she'd forgotten all her lines.

Y/n tried to pull away, if only a little so as to compose herself. But Valentino's hands held fast, keeping her sternly in place before him. Her ears flitted wildly atop her head and her eyes darted back and forth, looking for an exit, a distraction, something. She felt her breath slip out of her control and for a split second, she thought her lungs might collapse from the tension in her chest. 

But then something took hold of her mind. Something warm, like a pair of hands holding her attention softly in their palms. It smoothed over her consciousness and tempered her thoughts. A soothing clarity that she hadn't felt in her head for years.

It allowed her to play the game at hand.

Y/n went lax, her shoulders dropping as she sighed out the excess tension in her body. Her knees buckled lightly, and she swayed further into Val's chest with a pout. He barely moved to catch her, letting her fall into him as she looked up through her lashes. Passiveness oozed from her voice as one of her hands gently fingered the fuzz on his winged coat.

“Just a bit of networking, papi. You know how it goes- gotta do what you can to stay relevant and keep the customers coming, right?” She pushed herself onto her toes and craned her neck for a kiss, which he reciprocated immediately.

His commanding grip on her loosened enough for her to turn and step away. As she did, she laughed airily to cover her nervous exhale and bounced Fat Nuggets on her hip while she adjusted his bag over her shoulder once more. She breathed deeply to recompose herself.

“Mmm, that's what I like to hear,” Val crooned. He began to straighten but shot forward again to give her tail a quick, jarring tug.

Y/n jumped, spinning away sharply from the taunt. So sharply that she tripped over herself and stumbled for a moment until she found her footing. Even as she did, warmth landed on her shoulder and steadied her with a surprisingly gentle firmness. 

Pointed fingers grazed her collar bone. And though it sent a chill up her spine, it left her face feeling warm. She didn't have to look to know who it was.

With Alastor’s hand on her shoulder and Valentino's eyes on hers, she felt pinned in place. Her only obvious course of action was to smile. So she did. Never mind the tremble in her lips. Which certainly didn't go unnoticed by Valentino.

His eyes scanned her. From her face down to her legs and back up again, until he caught sight of the foreign hand on her. Val's eyes narrowed dangerously, challenged by the other overlord touching his property. 

The moth fumed. His wings ruffled, trembling with brimming rage. The only thing stopping him from lunging at the two deer were the bodies pressed up against him, their hands grabbing at his chest, stomach, thighs, ass. Fingers found their way under his belt and suddenly, he couldn't be bothered how the two spent their night. After all, he could always shorten her leash again if need be.

The fingers reached further, finding his steadily hardening member and toying with him. And when he felt the pleasantly uncomfortable strain in his trousers, a hungry grin sleazed across his face.

“Enjoy your evening, mami. Because tomorrow, I'll be seeing you bright and early. Don't you be late.”

With that, Valentino stepped back and disappeared into his bumbling entourage. The mass of bodies shuffled and moved as they all filtered into the building behind their pimp and out of sight. 

Soft claws tapped at her collarbone, 1, 2, 3, before pulling away with nails lightly dragging across her skin. She wanted to tremble. Not at the sensation itself, but rather at the loss of warmth. It made her spine twitch as a chill threatened to tear its way through her body. She only let her tail thrash instead.

“Unpleasant fellow, that one.”

Fat Nuggets let out a squee, as if he was agreeing with The Radio Demon.

Y/n turned on her heel and began putting distance between her and V Tower.

“Sensitive topic? Understandable, I suppose. Those Vees have always been a thorn in my side… I can only imagine what owing them your soul might be like.”

Y/n didn't dignify that rude comment with a response. As if he didn't already know the torture that came from signing your soul away. As if he treated the souls he owned any better. His comparison of their respective troubles with the Vees was far from accurate and just plain offensive.

She hoisted Fat Nuggets up and held him to her chest. The minimal heat from his little body would have to do in soothing her frayed nerves.

The demon behind her prattled on and on, trying to press every button she had. And she did her best to pay him no mind. That is, until she finally snapped after a carefully placed insult, his words done up all prettily to hide the backhandedness of his remark. His tone didn't quite hold back though, teasing her maliciously.

“The illustrious Y/n, so shaken by a big bad demon? I wouldn't have expected this; such a display of weakness from you, dearie.” The doe bit her tongue. Hard. “Still, a truly captivating performance… in a strangely disheartening sort of way.”

Y/n finally spun on her heel, glaring heatedly at The Radio Demon. His broad, unwavering smile only ticked her off more. 

“Alright,” she huffed. “Get on with it.”

“Come again?”

“Your obsession that you have with me? I'm not going to entertain it for any longer than I have to, so just-...” 

Y/n set Fat Nuggets down on the sidewalk and the piglet circled her nervously, squealing in protest. His leash still hung loosely in her hand as she took a daring, decisive step towards Alastor. 

“Kill me. Or kidnap me, or whatever the fuck you have planned. Just stop wasting my time and get on with it.”

The Radio Demon held fast. “I told you, I'm here to help-”

“Yeah, I don't buy that.”

It seems they were at an impasse.

Alastor's jaw clenched, his patience wearing thin. He has been so generous with this doe, has he not? Taking her bag, chaperoning her for the evening? Not snuffing her out upon first contact? And this is the attitude he gets in return?

It's bigger than her, he reminded himself coolly. Just keep playing the long game. We've only just begun…

Memories of that fateful evening decades ago danced through his head. The way this very doe before him had sauntered his direction in that dark club. And how ready he was to eviscerate her on the spot, just for existing in the same room as him.

She had more than a good enough reason to question his intentions, he supposed.

“I won't lie. The thought did occur,” he began, contempt dripping from his voice. “But, no. I'm not going to kill you. Not unless you give me reason to. And, for as much as your boss and I dislike one another, even I know better than to pick fights over one measly soul.” 

His hand waved fluidly through the air and for a moment, Y/n thought he was casually dismissing her accusation. But then wispy, lashing shadows furled and unfurled around his hand and not a second later, Fat Nuggets rested in his open palm. Alastor pressed the piglet nonchalantly into the doe's arms as he continued to speak. 

“Besides, obsessed is a strong word. Can't someone have an interest in an idol without it being twisted into something perverse?”

Y/n stared at him long and hard, her indecision lingering heavily in the air between them. 

Sinners tip toed cautiously past them on the sidewalk, some opting to step out into the street or turning the opposite direction entirely to avoid the deer stand off.

Alastor blinked lazily at her. “Well, now you're wasting both our time just standing there.”

The buck stepped around her and walked ahead to the street corner. He turned, not at all surprised to see she wasn't following, still stubbornly stuck in place. 

Y/n's ears flicked, flattening and righting atop her head with unsettled emotion she couldn't quite place. She bit her cheek, tearing away at her skin anxiously until the familiar metallic taste flooded her taste buds; a willing exchange of piercing sober anxiety for a more subtle drug-induced paranoia.

“This way to the hotel, dearie?” 

Alastor knew the way. He was prompting her to move. And when she finally did, her feet dragged with newfound chagrin. She passed him, her posture slouched, her expression empty.

“Attagirl!”

~~~~~~~

A/N~ this chapter was meant to be longer but i was super stuck up on it aaand i felt bad for leaving yall hanging... figured posting what i had would get the ole cogs turning again yk? i appreciate yall :)

Previous < Chapter 13 > Next

Masterlist :D

[smizzy]

do it for u

been YEARSSSS since bts dropped and I don't see more fics than my grandma age n she pushin 90.....

Throwing parties weren't for the weak

but look where u are now

you only thought it was right since the loyl's birthday was in 2 days

Blackwell never knew how you could even spend bills like that when you weren't anywhere close to Victoria and Nathan's social class

you still came thru nonetheless after being accused of embezzlement which is most likely true

anything for Ms. Amber even if you end up in a orange jumpsuit and cuffs

she could read you like a book but she couldn't put her finger on what you were hiding

oh brother if u seen her face the night of her very own night

"HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYYY RACHELLLLL" darn near all the cities that collectively make Oregon could've heard that

made many people wish their significant other did it for them on their birthday which most likely ended up with a break up..

the REAL meaning of "stuntin on these hoes"

everyone KNOWS who the birthday girl is

someone shares the same birthday and is currently in the birthday bash?????

sorry baby but u gon need 2 gtfo

yes u in fact did get firewalk to get on that stage and sing til their fingers get bloody and can't reach high notes anymore

just to prove how far you'd go for her and Chloe igz

you'd just be sitting in a corner booth with Vic sharing a blunt no wonder why but Rachel still had your attention in the most heart wrenching way

"God you're literally lovesick it's making me actually sick"

we all know she thinks it's absolutely adorable and if the lighting was better she'd snap a pic

maybe she did maybe not....

you'll both find out tomorrow on her insta page :3

after Victoria left and everyone seemed to calm down with drinks in their hands and swaying around.

you seen Rach coming right to you with pure fucking love written all over her face

too bad you were alr meeting her halfway like a moment in a corny movie

"I heard you're the mastermind behind all of this?"

She looked at every aspect of your face and examined your facial features under the bright red light shining upon everyone

"Only for you Rachel Amber"

That might've been the last straw for her to fully decide she wanted to get the hell outta Arcadia bay with you right now

She knew you could possibly end up behind bars before she could even wake up n brush her teeth

"Let's leave....tonight"

[missvelvetsstuff]

With Friends Like You, Who Needs Enemies

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Reader is a mutant with the ability to turn sound into light who was 'adopted' aka stolen as a child by Baron Von Strucker to use for experimentation. She was given a form of the Super soldier serum so in addition to her mutant abilities she also has super strength, enhanced senses and healing. When he starts experimenting on his volunteers, the Maximoff twins, she tries to convince them to escape with her but they tell the Baron that she's planning to escape so he doubles her cell security. Steve and reader met when the team recovered Loki's scepter from Strucker.

She falls in love with Steve and becomes good friends with Nat but they aren't the friends she thinks they are.

Notes: this story is canon adjacent except that Thanos never happened.

I try to keep my readers description vague but, as always, she's female and above average height.

***Previous Chapter***

Bucky raced back into the main room, searching for Wanda first in the hopes that her powers could help find Rainbow.

He grabbed Wanda's hand and pulled her to interrupt Tony and Peppers dance and blurted out, voice cracking

"She's gone! Natasha was here and helped Steve separate us and now they're all gone."

Chapter 9

Warnings: swearing, angst, a little sex talk, torture

Rainbow woke up with a pounding headache but when she tried to rub her head, realized she was restrained and felt her heart speed up. She worked to calm her breathing until her head cleared some and assessed her situation. Sitting up, hands tied to the arms of the metal chair, legs tied to the chair legs.

It was dark in the room, no windows or lights just a sliver of light from the crack above the door so she hummed to herself and tried to use her powers, to make any kind of light at all but had the wind knocked out of her by an electrical jolt. She realized whoever did this put some kind of mutant restraint on her, so they knew she was a mutant. She struggled to remember how she ended up here. She saw flashes of the party and remembered how it felt to dance with Bucky.

Then it all flooded back. Dancing with Steve, the blonde woman kissing Bucky. She felt her heart break a little but she tried to push that aside for now, in favor of plotting her escape. Whoever it was probably didn't have good intentions but her guess was that Nat was involved.

She heard a heavy door opening slowly and braced herself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve raced his bike out of town, his heart thrilled at the chance to have Y/N all to himself again. No more Bucky following her around like a sad puppy, turning her against Steve. He decided that stupid rainbow nickname would be the first thing to go. Then he would teach her how to be a proper wife for Captain America, demure and classy in public but a needy whore in his bed. His sexual appetites surpassed what most considered acceptable even in the 21st century, which is why he kept fucking Nat but now he would train Y/N, not just to cater to his needs but to crave the depravity that he needed, no deserved for what he did for the world.

All that would be after he had marked her as his. He waited so long, was so patient with her but he wasn't waiting anymore. She would be his, tonight. He had put together some toys and other aids to introduce her to but first things first. Tonight he would take every hole she had and cover her with his release and if she was a good girl he might make her feel good too.

He pulled up to the building and jumped off his bike, adjusting his tightening pants before he started walking. He went thru the first floor and down the stairs to the basement then used his key to open the padlock but when he opened the door, the room he had prepared was empty, except for the furniture he had brought for her.

Steve tore the room apart looking for Y/N even though he knew there was nowhere to hide. He felt his rage growing, blood pounding in his ears, he hit the wall and released a violent scream "Natasha!!".

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky felt like he was losing his mind. Golden boy Steve Rogers had betrayed Rainbow, him and the entire team while his nemesis, Tony Stark, was being surprisingly supportive and helpful. Tony tried to be encouraging by telling him the story about when Pepper was kidnapped by Aldrich Killian, with emphasis on the happy ending. Reminding him how strong Rainbow was.

Not to mention Sam was actually being a supportive friend without all the snarky remarks that Bucky was in no mood for.

Even if they didn't usually get along it was good to know he had friends who would be there when the chips were down. When the man he considered a brother betrayed all of them. Bucky promised himself he would make sure to express his appreciation for his unexpected allies. After she was safe, in his arms where she belonged.

Steve, on the other hand should probably stay out of Bucky's sight for the foreseeable future because he couldn't promise not to beat Steve bloody.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N jumped when the door hit the wall and braced herself for the worst. The blonde woman came into view, laughing as she twirled a knife.

"Poor little girl, in way over her head and no soldiers in sight. What ever will you do?"

Y/N spat "I already know it's you dear sister, you can lose the wig. That's your favorite knife, I'd know that design anywhere."

The woman pulled a cloth mask and the wig off, still smiling like a lunatic before she got into Rainbows face "Careful little freak, your life is literally in my hands."

Rainbow shook her head "You're planning to kill me no matter what I do so I don't see why I should censor myself."

Nat laughed "Oh but maybe if you stall long enough your beloved Jamie will save you. If you can only distract me until he gets here."

She scoffed "You can try but it's unlikely any of them can figure out where you are before I get bored and kill you."

"Won't Steve be upset if you kill me?" Rainbow asked

Nat just chuckled "Like I care. Even Steve doesn't know where you are. He was dumb enough to help me get you away from Barnes so I'm sure that he believes that I'm helping him." She grinned, looking manic

"Hint-no I'm not helping that self righteous prick but I did need someone to help me take you. All I had to do was suck his cock and promise I wouldn't let anything happen to you. I cried and told him I love him and just wanted him to be happy. I don't know why his dumb ass fell for it but here we are. Did you know that while you were in Asgard and I was prisoner to the Avengers, Steve still couldn't stay away and came to fuck me 4 or 5 times a week? If you hadn't discovered us we'd be going behind your back until I got bored. I don't care what Strucker did to you, Steve would have been more than you could handle."

Rainbow shook her head "Why not just take him, he's the one you want. I never did anything but try to be a friend. Even when I found out about you two I didn't do anything to you until you started breaking bones. All this is between you and Steve, I'm a victim of both of you and don't want anything to do with either of you anymore.

Why can't you leave me alone?"

Nat grinned with an evil glint in her eye before slapping Rainbow across the face "Because you are just too much fun princess."

She sighed "Besides, Steve only wants me for sex and hurting you will get to him faster than anything I could do to him. Imagine how sad he'll be with his precious Rainbow dead and his bff blaming him for it. It's going to be spectacular, way worse than that little scuffle in Germany. Steve Rogers vs the Avengers, I'd pay to watch that."

Rainbow took in a shaky breath, trying not to let Nat see how scared she was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the compound Tony and Bruce were trying to figure out where Rainbow had been taken, while Bucky paced a hole into the rug.

Tony looked up "C'mon Barnes I know you're worried but you're getting on my nerves. Why, I-"

A door slamming and heavy footfalls interrupted Tony's lecture. Before anyone knew what was happening, Steve entered the room and Bucky had him slammed up against the wall with his metal hand pressing on his neck.

"Buck" he tried to speak "Please."

Bucky heard Steve using his nickname and roared, slamming him against the wall again

"What did you do? Where is Rainbow you bastard? You did this and if she gets hurt I'm gonna make you wish you were still on the ice."

Steve coughed and tried to speak before Bucky squeezed his throat harder, until Tony interrupted

"Come on Barnes, I totally empathize with you wanting to beat his self righteous ass but we need to keep him alive until we find her. He's the only lead we have."

Bucky looked at Tony, who nodded, and dropped Steve who fell to the floor, coughing.

Bucky crossed his arms over his chest "Well, Rogers, what do you know?"

Steve cleared his throat "I don't know where she is. Nat and I had a plan but I lost sight of them and they aren't where we arranged to keep her" the last few words were whispered as Steve tried not to cry.

Bucky growled "Keep her?" he hit the wall "You planned to keep her?" he started pacing again to distract from the deep need to hurt Steve. He took a deep breath "So it wasn't enough to lie to her, treat her like a stupid child then cheat on her and break her heart? You just couldn't let her go could you?"

"Look, Buck-"

Bucky hit the wall "DON'T FUCKING CALL ME THAT!!" sobbing "You sonofabitch." Bucky collapsed against the wall

"Now Nat has her and I don't know where she is. I hope you're happy with yourself because we both know Nats gonna kill her but probably not before torturing her." He paused trying to get his emotions under control.

When he looked at Steve again Steve felt a chill and imagined this was how the Winter Soldiers victims felt right before they died.

Bucky's voice was cold "You will tell us every single thing that might help us figure out where Natasha took Rainbow. You better hope that we find her before it's too late because I can't promise I won't hurt you if that's the case."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the team was trying to figure out where Rainbow was, Nat was enjoying playing with her before killing her.

Rainbow tried to keep calm so that Nat didn't know how scared she was but Nat was too good at reading people.

"Poor little princess trying to keep a brave face but I know you're about ready to piss yourself. You might tell yourself that they will save you but I don't think they'll figure it out in time."

She showed off playing with her knife until she was practically in Rainbows lap

"Did you know that Barnes and I were lovers way back when? The Soldat came to train us in the red room and he did so much more with me than combat training. It's a shame you'll never find out because he is well above average and even brainwashed with his memories wiped he was a great fuck." She smirked.

"I wonder if your soldier would still want you if you weren't so pretty? What do you think? I think probably not. You won't be seeing him again but I'll leave a few reminders on you, just in case."

She ran the knife down Rainbows cheek, barely enough to hurt but Rainbow felt the blood that the cut released before Nat wiped a finger on her cheek and showed her the blood.

Nat cut the other cheek next, then across the top of her breasts, then smearing the blood around Rainbows chest before stopping to assess her work.

"So pretty. I think I'll stop cutting for now, don't want you to lose too much blood and pass out on me. You need to feel everything I'm gonna do to you."

Nat moved away from her and looked through a bag of torture devices. She pulled out a pair of pliers then returned to stand over Rainbow with a psychotic grin "I'm sure you went to have your nails done before the party."

She grabbed one of Rainbows hands "Of course you did, very pretty but the party is over so no need for all that."

She looked at the hand as though she was admiring the fancy manicure then suddenly used the pliers to pull a nail clean off the finger.

Rainbow shouted in pain and Nat laughed gleefully "Oh honey, we're just getting started."

By the time Nat got to the other hand Rainbow was close to passing out from the pain and fear "What do you want from me? I'll do whatever you want if you please stop."

Nat cackled "Silly little girl, I want you to suffer before I kill you. There's nothing you could offer that I need or want more than watching you cry and beg for me to stop. Besides, when I'm done, you're dead so don't wish for something you don't really want."

Rainbow cried softly, overwhelmed with the pain and betrayal caused by the first friend she ever had.

She passed out before Nat finished removing her fingernails.

Nat shook her head "Well that won't do at all" and threw a bucket of cold water at Rainbow. Grinning at the girls spluttering and coughing, Nat grabbed one of her feet to start on those nails and didn't stop until all of her nails were gone.

Rainbow tried to think about Bucky so the pain wouldn't feel as bad but her daydreams kept disappearing as Nat continued her torture. She was close to passing out when Nat slapped her across the face a few times.

"No way princess, I'm not done with you so WAKE UP!"

As she yelled, Nat shoved her knife into Rainbows stomach, causing her to jolt awake screaming.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the compound they were still trying to find where Nat and Rainbow had disappeared to when Tony hollered "YES! I've got it. I know how to find her."

Chapter 10

[honeytonedhottie]

quality of life‧₊˚✩彡🎐

this post is a collaboration with @prettieinpink my lovely mutual <3 so make sure to check out ur page for the continuation of this post and it has been a PLEASURE to work with her! go and follow her <3

HEALTH : ur health is easily the most important of these categories and ur own health must be prioritized in every thing that u do. health is wealth, and without health, ur quality of life will be very low.

eat foods that are good for u and that nourish you, pay close attention to ur body and how it reacts to certain foods cuz everyones body is different and u should have a vast knowledge on your own body and how it works. eat a variety of fruits and vegetables. a helpful ratio in eating that i like to use as a basic guideline is (80% of the time, eat healthier foods and 20% of the time eat what u crave)

stay hydrated and drink between 1-3 liters of water a day, about 15 minutes before u go to sleep drink a couple glasses of water, drinking water before bed literally CLEANSES you, it improves ur skin, helps ur heart pump blood more efficiently, and improves blood pressure and heart rate, which affects ur quality of sleep in a positive way

to continue on the note of ur sleep u should be sleeping 8-10 hours of sleep a night. sleep deprivation is NOT cute, so please opt to sleep at an earlier time and rise at an earlier time as well

aside from what u consume, take care of ur health by taking supplements, drinking lots of teas, sleeping enough, stretching ur body, dry brushing, lymphatic drainage massage etc

MENTAL WELL BEING : september is suicide prevention month so i feel like now is an AMAZING time to bring up mental health and ways that u can improve ur mental state of being.

i always talk about self concept and i always will because self concept truly is the foundation of everything. ur whole entire life is literally ur mindset. keeping a positive outlook, meditating and practicing gratitude sounds cliche but it does wonders for ur happiness.

understand that its okay to NOT feel happy 24/7 because happiness is simply a feeling, and feelings are fleeting. they dont stay forever. i talked about the science of dopamine and what it does to ur brain in a previous post but some things that u can do to improve ur happiness levels are :

cutting back on social media and screen time in order to experience the world around you

surrounding urself with people who build you up

consuming social media that impacts ur mental health in a positive way

if u can, invest in therapy and if u can't do some shadow work, and based on ur discoveries with shadow work use the resources that u have (like youtube) to learn how to heal from ur trauma properly. healing isn't an overnight process, its a journey but it will DRASTICALLY improve ur quality of life.

find ways to cope and deal with ur emotions in a healthy way if ur going through a hard time, if ur going thru a REALLY hard time please go and seek help bcuz u dont deserve to live in a constant state of sadness, and if u ever need encouragement my inbox is always open 💗

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE : ur physical appearance can greatly impact ur quality of life also so here's some way to maximize ur looks:

sleep, drink water, and walk everyday - the best way to be pretty is to be healthy so make sure ur taking care of ur nutrition and ur sleep schedule

skincare - build a solid skincare routine and be consistent with it, do ur skincare RELIGIOUSLY 2x a day and dont touch ur face with ur hands unless ur washing ur face. double cleanse and dont forget to apply spf &lt;33

haircare - learn what ur hair texture is and watch influencers or people who share the same hair texture as u and watch how they take care of their hair. once u know ur hair type then ur hair will thrive and be healthy

clean nails, long or short its all a matter of preference but keep ur nails clean and done nicely

wearing clothes that fit and complement ur body nicely, get ur clothes tailored to fit ur body comfortably

take good care of ur hair to keep it healthy, and learn how to do ur hair in cute hairstyles.

lastly POSTURE will tie all of this together, ofc these categories were rly broad but u can totally look into them more to maximize ur own looks and beauty

i know dear peachie on youtube has AMAZING makeup tips especially if ur a beginner she can teach u a lot

GENERAL : this is just a broad category of helpful things that u can do to improve the quality of ur life.

manifestation : when u learn about the way that the world works and operates and how ur mind creates ur own reality u will literally step into the power of knowing that you create. start committing to ur dream life and learning about law of assumption

finding little things to be happy about : i feel my happiest when im consciously living. and what i mean about this most of us just live our lives on autopilot out of necessity or habit, but paying closer attention to our lives and our experiences and romanticizing our lives will improve the quality of ur life

decision making : make decisions that will give the quality of life that u wanna live. for the future, make decisions that are good for ur future self instead of just focusing on making decisions that only look good in that one moment. ofc this differs depending on the situation but make an effort to make smart decisions that'll set the foundation for ur future

go check out @prettieinpink for the next part of this post <;3

[starsofang]

you deserve hell fire for this chapter. my emotions are everywhere. do you get off on pain? do you hate me? do you hate your other readers? do you hate the 141? do you hate dove? DO YOU HATE HAPPINESS???

The description of Graves is absolutely and utterly fucking disgusting and I feel like puking reading about it so thank you for that angie 😐 how dare you let him put his hands on dove????? HE GRABBED AND AND PUSHED HER TO THE GROUND. “She’s getting kicked down repeatedly.” - You in my Dm’s 2 days ago. I DIDNT KNOW YOU MEANT LITERALLY😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 WHAT IS WDONG WITH YOU😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 He put his nasty foot on her which okay first off, he needs to kill himself in the most violent way possible.

Im going to off on a nursing rant here because whenever I see injured mentioned in fanfiction my little nurse brain becomes happy. The pressure he would’ve had to put on her to actually crack and or break her rib is insane. People think it’s easy to break a rib but in reality ribs are protecting the heart, lungs and multiple other very needed organs. They NEED to be strong. He would’ve had to been practically stepping on her, he needed to be meaning to break her rib. Not to mention the healing process of broken ribs is excruciating. Anyways….

I come to your unholy abode to murder you with my screaming of how fucking amazing the chapter was despite my crying. The way they were worried about her, the way they were truly showing that she meant something to them and they weren’t just heartless brutes. I mean WE knew that but did she?? The wayJohn Fucking Price YELLS AND THREATENS GRAVES. THE WAY HE KNEW HOW TO HIT A NERVE. THE WAY HE COULD SHOW POWER EVEN WITH A GUN TO HIS HEAD. GIVE ME HIM NOW. MY LEGS ARW WIDE OPEN.

AND GAZ😭😭 “Talk to me, dove, I’m right here, focus on me.” WHAT THE FUCK😭😭 He worries so much about her, he fucking adores her and that’s what I love about Gaz and how you write him you crazy maniac. And as much as I would love to continue to speak about him let me skirt over to the fucking telescope. Why. why???? why would you sit here, make us think that the telescope was a sweet gift and even tease us with a kiss and the have graves STEAL IT?? THE LEAST YOU COULDVE DONE WAS GIVE US THAT DAMN KISS.???? My notes are progressively getting longer because I actually had typed out my opinion on the prophecy in my docs and i even MENTIONED the telescope before I was like “nah that doesn’t make sense.” YOY GASLIGHTED ME. WHAT DOES HE WANT WITH THAT DAMB THING.

THEM IMMEDIATELY GOING TO HER😭😭 GHOST FEELINGS GUILTY AND PRICE HATING WHAT HAPPENED😭😭 “We need a medic.” “She’s the medic!” That’s weirdly heartbreaking in a way that I could not put into words. Them all turning around hesitantly and not because they wan’t to be weirdos but because they are all so confused and concerned and don’t want to take their eyes off her. ESPECIALLY SOAP😭

Something is going to happen whilst they are on land looking for a doctor🤷🏼‍♀️ I just know you a bit too well by now.

THE KISS. THE KISS. THE KISS. THE KISS. ARE YOU GUYS HEARING ME. THE FUCKING KISS. HE GOT TO HER FIRST DESPITE EVERYTHING. “As long as I’m first.” OKAY SO MAYBE FUCK ME PLEASE?????????? HE STAYED WITH HER😭 SHE IS EVERYTHING TO THEM😭😭

IM KILLING YOU ANGIE😭😭😭😭

here comes my biggest opp 🙄

to be fair, i did warn u. in my own words, i said she got fucked up, i meant that shit. it’s my dream to write angst 😍 fun fact rlly fun fact i have a crush on cod graves so i had to make him as despicable as possible in this fic so i dont start to trip over him

i am no nurse, im working in a pharmacy for my degree (slay) but BOY DO I KNOW THAT SHIT HURTS. im the clumsiest person alive and ive broken so many bones that it’s sad atp. SO SOMEBODY UNDERSTANDS THE EXTENT OF A FRACTURE ESPECIALLY TO THE RIBS BECAUSE MY GOD THAT SHIT FEELS LIKE YOURE BREATHING THRU A JUICEBOX, PLS i had to make dove suffer as i have

THE ROOM SCENE WITH ALL OF THEM WAS MY FAVORITE TO WRITE UGHHHH FINALLY HAVING THEM ALL CONVERSING AS ONE AND SHARING THEIR WORRIES 😫 like a steak dinner istg

(i make no promises for next chapter, or the ones upcoming) (i have not planned it yet)

THE KISS I TOLD YOU TO TRUST MEEEE WHEN HAVE I EVER LET YOU DOWN. u were going crazy in my dms threatening murder and look here we are. u got ur wish. never falter in ur trust in me bc everybody knows by now when i say trust you trust 🗣️

also absolutely hearing you out on price. he’s a damn fine sir in this fic. it makes me hungry. i did it all for u.

I LOVE YOUUU 😜

[eldritchmochi]

hey, what symptoms is masculinizing hrt supposed to treat for eds exactly if you don't mind? saw your ask about dwarfism that mentioned it. ive got heds and im kinda desperate for potential treatment options, wondering if this is smth i should look into?

SO: this is all anecdotal, it is not necessarily a great global treatment for many many reasons but if youre an afab edser and already considering hrt, things i and others have noticed T helping with are:

joint pain/subluxations: higher levels of t seem to help because thats the hormone that helps you build and maintain muscle, and muscle when u have shitty connective tissue helps protect and stabilize your joints, so they hurt less because they flop around less (this may also be why eds is more commonly seen in afab folks, as amab folks especially cis men have more muscle from the get go, so they often have less issues)

chronic pain in general: my theory is that, since i have fewer subluxations, im generally a smidge less globally inflamed, so generally a smidge less pain (very subjective tho, and also i started taking regular nsaids a few months into t, so ymmv)

less fatigue, particularly after physical activity: i have no theories on why for this one (and its also pretty subjective, especially cos fatigue can be related to so many things when youre multiply disabled, like many edsers are)

less cold/dizzy, presumably from better circulation: t can increase your blood volume iirc, as well as give you bigger veins and whathaveyou

easier blood draws: again, bigger veins, easier to hit with a needle. ymmv still based on hydration etc, and mine are still bouncy and tend to roll, but more often than not if i am well hydrated most phlebotomists can get me in one stick, compared to even experienced phlebotomists needing to dig around at best

and then a small handful of other benefits ive noticed relating to collagen, like i have fewer random scrapes and bruises, presumably because my skin is a little thicker now and thus a little more resistant to damage, plus my nails and hair are less likely to break (tho idk how much of that is related to eds as a whole and how much is just my family)

i am currently doing .2ml subq injections every 7-10 days and noticed substantially more positive effect when i was at a weekly .3ml subq dose, however i ran so hot that i turned into Shorts In Winter Guy, and i hated it especially since i circled around to being so sweaty i was sick from it, so i backed off a lot. during the 18ish months i was on a .3ml dose tho, i think i had <10 subluxations the entire span, compared to >10 on average in any given week for years prior. on .2ml im experiencing significantly more subluxations, but still <10 a month, and theyre less impactful (often its waking up with one ankle not quite in place, which settles after a few minutes of movement)

of note though, my experiences are as someone who was significantly impacted by heds starting at age 14-15, and im 33 now, whereas i have a friend on a much lower dose of t (not sure the amount, but theyre doing gel) with great effect still, as someone of comparable age but who was less impacted until relatively recently due to spending their youth and early 20s physically active in a variety of ways i did Not lmao

ive seen several other transmasc edsers discuss anecdotally the benefits theyve seen from being on T, and the geneticist i saw when i was finally dx'd earlier this year mentioned her familiarity with the same benefits learned thru patients, so its a thing some doctors ARE aware of, there just havent been many, if any, formal studies (because of course not (: ). if you were already kicking around hrt for The Genders, absolutely recommend going for it. if you have The Genders and maybe havent considered T before, i think its definitely worth researching and pondering. not sure i would really recommend it to someone who was cis, but there are ways to mitigate a number of masculine secondary sex characteristics spawned from T so i dont think its off the table for everyone, you would just need to find a very clever experienced doctor for it

also of note is i experienced benefits VERY quickly, within 6-8 weeks of a .25ml/week dose, and in that span most of the effects of t are not permanent or otherwise fairly negligible, so there isnt a ton of risk imo to test it to see if its worth it for you. just be aware that, because of the collagen thing and the way vocal cords work, your voice WILL drop and it will drop IMMEDIATELY (however, even if your voice drops a ton, you can still sound fully passibly feminine with a little practice and knowledge)