#i need to put these bitches on paper i refuse to take a day off | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ambrossart · 1 year ago

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PAPER MEN

— CHAPTER 28

SUMMARY: All Evelyn Tozier wanted to do was make Derry High School a safer place for her kid brother. Well, somewhere between kissing Patrick Hockstetter and telling the principal to go f*** himself, things got a little off track. Now she’s stuck in the middle of a bizarre love triangle with two of Derry’s most troubled teens while her little brother and his friends hunt down a creepy, child-eating circus clown. This year, summer can’t come fast enough. PAIRINGS: Henry Bowers x Tozier!Sister; Patrick Hockstetter x Tozier!Sister WARNINGS: violence, profanity, sexual content, bullying, sexual assault, physical abuse, emotional abuse, all kinds of abuse, trauma, mental illness, implied/referenced self-harm, child death, angst, lots of angst, recreational drug use, underage drinking, underage sex, love triangles, toxic relationships, slow burn, slow build

WORD COUNT: 11,533

MASTERPOST

MASTERLIST

"See? Bitch!"

Christie's words sailed down the hallway and struck Evelyn on the back of the head, making her stop mid-stride. A gasp gathered in her chest as the hallway seemed to close in around her. Student faces blurred together. Sounds became muffled, all but the thunderous beating of her heart. I wasn't being a bitch, Evelyn thought, unaware of the students who gave her curious glances as they passed. I said hi, didn't I? What more do you want from me? Should I have gone up to you and shaken your hand? Said, "Oh my god, congratulations, I'm so thrilled for you two"? Because I am, I really am, I just...

(Bitch!)

Guilt and shame mixed uneasily in Evelyn's stomach. It made her feel nauseous. Made her want to walk back over to them and apologize profusely like an embarrassed little girl at a grown-up's dinner party. Oh please, oh please, don't be mad! I'm sorry if I came off a little rude earlier. I'm just having a bad day, that's all. Please don't take it personally, Christie. Pretty please? Pretty please with sugar on top? I'd really like for us to be friends.

Yes.

Friends.

That's what I do. I make nice. I make friends. I make lemonade from lemons and turn rain clouds into rainbows.

Well, I'm not in the mood for rainbows, Evelyn thought, and kept walking. Anger simmered inside her stomach now, and she made no effort to cool it down. I have enough lemonade, I have enough friends, and I'm not gonna apologize to Christie Gibson! Why should I? I didn't do anything wrong! She's the one who bombarded me in the hallway, smelling like Vic's bedroom, casually tossing around Mrs. Criss's first name like they're best friends. I've known Mrs. Criss my whole life, and she'd never let me call her 'Tabby'... not that I've ever really asked...

Sarah Tolleson, Evelyn's locker neighbor, said bye to Evelyn as she walked by. Evelyn, distracted as she was, said nothing back.

"Bitch," Sarah muttered under her breath. "Well, fuck you too, then."

Evelyn opened her locker, hung her backpack on the hook, and absentmindedly began gathering her textbooks one by one: English, psychology, world history...

So Christie wants to talk about Vic, huh? What could she possibly have to say to me about Vic? What, does she need gift ideas for Christmas? Buy him a bong or something, I don't know... Evelyn shoved her biology book into her bag and paused for a moment, lost in thought. She returned in a near-daze and, forgetting herself, pulled out the same book and put it back on the shelf. Oh, then she calls out to me in the hallway while she's with him, so I'd have to SEE them together. What the hell was that about, huh? Did she wanna gloat over her victory? Was she trying to get me to admit I'm jealous? Okay, fine, I'm jealous. I'm very, very jealous!

All Evelyn ever got from Victor Criss was cold distance and doors slammed in her face. Secret notes. Broken promises. He'd draw her in and then push her way. Get her hopes up only to smash them to itty bitty pieces. No matter how hard she tried, he refused to let her get close to him. And now, after wasting ten years of her life, she had to accept that this was as close as she was ever going to get: this friendship with a little asterisk next to it. They were friends, sure, but only when no one else was around. It wasn't fair.

Vic was with her—in front of everybody, and he didn't even seem embarrassed by it. How could he do that with her but not with me?

Probably for the same reason Christie Gibson won the student council vote.

Because Christie was cool and Evelyn wasn't. Christie listened to rock music, dyed her hair fun colors, and had a butterfly tattoo on her lower back. Evelyn wore knit sweaters and could hardly name a current song on the radio (she listened to Olivia Newton-John from time to time, but nobody would be very impressed by that). Yeah, Christie Gibson was the fun, laid-back rocker chick. She probably spent her nights going to parties and concerts. Evelyn, meanwhile, spent her nights studying and doing arts and crafts on her bedroom floor... making dozens of paper flowers for a sign that nobody cared about.

You know you're quite the artist.

Isn't that what Patrick Hockstetter had said? Yeah, he had. Last night, he was mesmerized by a tiny white daisy. It was such an insignificant little thing, yet he stared at it like it was something special, like Evelyn had somehow made a realdaisy bloom in the palm of her hand. It seemed strange for her to be thinking of that now.

Stranger still was the smile that came to her face when she did.

But then Evelyn thought of that shapeless violet, purple as the fading bruise on her neck, and her smile instantly vanished. She pushed the thought away and started unloading her backpack again.

Everyone thinks I'm annoying. Just Little Miss Busybody. I'm not cool like Christie Gibson. I'm not sexy like Manda Bosch. I'm just... just—

A long, slender finger poked Evelyn's shoulder twice, jolting her from her thoughts. She jumped away from it, startled. Her stack of books went leaning, leaning... leaning way too far! A dreadful moan sounded in her throat. She tried to correct the lean, failed, and clutched the two bottommost books to her chest while the rest went tumbling to the floor. Her disheartened sigh crashed against a boy's cry of panic:

"Oh, great," Evelyn said.

"Oh, God!" said the boy.

They dropped to their knees at the same time, hands bumping as they reached for Evelyn's psychology book. The boy made a whimpering noise and recoiled from her with a snap of his wrist. Evelyn followed his fleeing hand and saw it bury itself in a small nest of copper-red curls.

"I'm so sorry, Evelyn! I don't know what I was thinking, sneaking up on you like that. My mom always gets mad at me when I creep up on her in the kitchen, but I just can't help it. See, I used to make too much noise when I walked, and she would yell at me to stop dragging my feet, so I overcorrected and now I make too little noise. I didn't think that was possible, but someone how I managed. God, I'm so hopeless."

Evelyn blinked her eyes in disbelief. Soft blue eyes blinked back at her.

"Denny!"

Denny Booker responded with a frog-like croak, as if surprised by his own name. "Oh, uh... hi."

Overjoyed, Evelyn put down her books and wrapped her arms around Denny's scrawny shoulders, hugging him tightly just as she had in his kitchen the Wednesday before. Denny's face flushed with heat. As soon as their bodies made contact, his back went rigid as a plank and his skinny arms flattened against his sides.

"Sorry," Denny said once they parted. "I'm really bad at hugs, especially with, with girls. I just don't... see, I don't really know where to put my hands, if that makes sense. I'm always worried I'm gonna touch something I'm not supposed to."

Like what? Evelyn almost asked, bewildered, but she figured that would've only embarrassed him more.

Instead, she said, "It's fine, Denny. I'm just glad you're back. You are back, right?"

She stood, brushing loose specks of dirt off her stockings. Denny got up, too. He wore his backpack with both straps and kept fidgeting with the loose ends.

"Yeah... well, kinda. I just came today to drop off my homework assignments. Tomorrow's my first real day back. Oh, here, your books."

Denny bent down, picked up Evelyn's scattered books, and handed them to her with a sweet, unaffected smile. Evelyn thanked him sincerely and put them away in her locker.

"So—" Evelyn began.

"Hey, it's the Book Man!"

They spotted Scott Kellerman at the other end of the hallway. He had been strolling through the freshmen locker area, thinking of fun, creative ways to kill a couple minutes. Now he was jogging toward them. Smiling, of course. Scott Kellerman was always smiling. He stopped briefly to give another one of his friends a high five. "Toodles, my good dude," Scott said to him. Then he rushed over to Denny and tackled him with a giant bear hug.

"What's up, buddy?" Grinning, Scott slapped his hands onto Denny's shoulders and gave him a brain-rattling shake that made Evelyn cringe and think, Oh, poor Denny. "Look at you, all rosy-cheeked and gorgeous! How you doin', man?"

"I'm, I'm good," Denny replied. "Hap-happy to be back."

"Shit, dude, you had us all freaked out in homeroom. People thought you were dying or something. As for me, I was getting ready to start sending around the ole donation jar like we did for J-Bird that one time. You remember that? 'Help, my brother needs a new kidney!' Nobody donated, though. Bummer. I guess they don't care about pot-bellied pigs in this town, not even a cute one like J-Bird."

"Oh..." Denny frowned. "Well, I'm sorry for scaring everyone."

Scott just laughed his usual carefree laugh. "Hey, no worries, dude. We're just glad to have you back. Wait, you are back, right?"

Denny nodded. "Tomorrow. I'll be back tomorrow."

"Sweetness!" Scott said, and laughed again. "Well, hey, I gotta go, man. Got a client waiting for me." He backed away from them while humming an upbeat tune he made up on the spot. "Adios, mis amigos. That's Spanish, if you didn't already know. My teacher taught it to me today. That's right, my dudes, I'm one step closer to being bilingual, baby!" He fired off two gunshots with his fingers before disappearing around the corner.

A moment of silence passed. Then Evelyn turned to Denny and said, "Did he just say he's meeting a client?"

"Oh right, yeah... Skelly's got a little side business."

"A side business? Wow!" Imagine that, Scott Kellerman was a fifteen-year-old entrepreneur. Evelyn was very impressed, and a little confused. "So does he, like, make stuff?"

"More like grows it."

To clarify what he meant, Denny pressed his thumb and index finger together and touched them briefly to his lips. Miss Quaver, the home economics teacher, came strutting out of her classroom. Denny panicked and pretended to have an itch on his face.

"Hello, children," Miss Quaver said to them with a smile. "Nice to see you back, Denny."

"Hi, Miss Quaver," Denny said, a faint blush tickling his cheeks.

When she was gone, he and Evelyn collapsed into a fit of giggles that left Evelyn in tears and Denny hacking up phlegm. This made Denny terribly embarrassed. He wiped his mouth with his sweater sleeve and apologized. Evelyn, who had been snorting like a pig, told him not to worry about it.

"Wow," she said afterward, while dabbing her eyes dry, "Skelly's a pot dealer. How did I not figure that out sooner?"

Denny cleared his throat one more time. "You're just wonderfully naive, I guess."

They shared another chuckle over that. Evelyn's shoulders bounced as she laughed. Denny, more careful this time, kept his hand cupped shyly over his mouth.

Then he said, "So, wait, why was Skelly dressed like a surfer?"

"Oh, because it's Groovy Monday," Evelyn told him. "Skelly's a Beach Boy. He had a surfboard, but he accidentally smacked Principal Hellyer with it, so it got taken away."

"Right," Denny said, unsurprised. "Yeah, I guess that explains your outfit, too."

"Yeah..."

Evelyn tucked her chin into her chest and shuffled back a step, wincing as she felt that familiar sting of self-consciousness. Oh, why had Denny returned to school on Decade Day of all days? If he had waited until tomorrow, he would have seen Evelyn dressed in comfy cotton pajamas instead of this hideously short dress that, apparently, made her look like a damn streetwalker. She braced herself for another searing hot stare, but from Denny Booker, all she felt was the most genuine warmth. His blue eyes were clear and kind.

"You look really nice," he said, and that was all. "Oh, I have your biology notes!"

He shrugged out of his backpack's right shoulder strap and pulled Evelyn's notebook out of the main zipper compartment. "You take really good notes," he said before handing it to her.

Evelyn flashed a modest smile. "Well, I do pride myself on my note-taking. Last year, I got these totally awesome gel pens that completely changed the way I..."

(It's a pen, Evelyn)

Her expression darkened. "Never mind," she said under her breath. Last year didn't matter anymore. "Anyway, I'm glad you found them useful."

She put her notebook away. When she turned back, Denny was rubbing the back of his neck and frowning.

"Hey," he went on quietly, "I want to apologize for the way I acted when you came to visit me last week. I'm honestly really embarrassed about the whole thing. You probably thought I was having a total meltdown or something."

Evelyn shook her head. "No, I didn't think that at all. And you don't have to apologize, Denny, not for any of it. You were going through a lot that day."

Denny gave a doubtful but grateful smile. "I found my dog, by the way."

"Really? That's great!"

"Yeah, we got a call from one of our neighbors this morning. He said Mandy Fazio found her sniffing around the junkyard last night and was wondering who she belonged to. I have no idea what she was doing all the way over there, but we took her to the vet, and she's perfectly fine, so... I dunno, I guess it was just one of those strange coincidences, just like you said."

"Yeah," Evelyn said.

A strange coincidence, indeed.

I questioned Patrick about this last night. Now, all of a sudden—

Denny's face paled, and he drew back with fright. "Uhh... I have to go now."

"Huh? Why, Denny? Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, I just, uhh..." Denny dragged his fingers through his curls. His hairline was damp with sweat, Evelyn saw, and now it was trickling down his forehead. "I just remembered that I need to pick up something from the office, and I... I need to head over there before, you know, before they close for the day. See you tomorrow, Evelyn."

He staggered backward, spun around, and sped off down the hallway... in the opposite direction of the office.

Weird, Evelyn thought, her chest tight with worry. I hope he'll be okay to return tomorrow.

She stared down the hallway for a moment longer, wondering what unseen terror had set Denny off this time. Her answer came in the form of slow, plodding footsteps. She turned around and saw Patrick Hockstetter walking up to her with a lazy, swaying stride.

"What's his problem?" he asked, seemingly unaware.

Seemingly.

Evelyn's eyes sharpened into a suspicious glare.

"What?" Patrick said, blinking at her with that same dumb, oblivious expression. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a wide, open-mouthed grin. "Wait, was that...?"

"Oh, stop it already, Patrick. As if you don't know."

He tossed his head to the side. "What was his name again?"

"You know his name, Patrick. I refuse to believe you have no idea who your fellow classmates are."

This was all just an act, and a bad one at that.

She grabbed her biology book, put it in her bag, and left it there this time. That's right, Evelyn finally had her head screwed on properly again. She wasn't floating through space or wading through a deep sea of sad thoughts. She was here, grounded firmly in reality... and keenly aware of how close Patrick had gotten. His warm breath fanned the side of her face.

"Believe what you want," Patrick said, "but as far as I'm concerned, you and I are the only two people in this school."

Evelyn turned to meet his empty, probing stare. When she did, a chill ran up her spine. Looking into Patrick's eyes was kind of like staring into a void. It was like leaning over the side of a ship and gazing into the deep, dark ocean below. Your survival instincts tell you to step back from the edge and walk away, but before you do, a small part of you wonders, What if I jumped?

Evelyn was hearing that voice now, tempting and frightening all at the same time. She pulled away from it, away from him, and said, "No offense, Patrick, but that sounds kinda like a nightmare."

"Really?" he said. "I think it sounds pretty nice."

His eyes told her he wasn't kidding. But he had to be, didn't he?

Another shiver rolled through her. Evelyn put the question behind her and finished packing up her homework.

"So," Patrick went on, leaning against the locker beside her, "did he finally find his dog?"

Evelyn's eyes sharpened again. Strange coincidence, my ass.

"Oh my god!" she said.

"What?" Patrick asked, looking at her with genuine surprise.

No.

Seemingly genuine.

Evelyn jabbed at his chest with an accusing finger. "Oh, you... you are so transparent!"

"What? I'm just making conversation."

"Yeah, sure you are, Patrick."

"I am," he insisted. Then his eyes flattened. "Wait a second, you still think I took that dog, don't you? Listen, Evelyn, before last night I didn't even know who that kid was, okay? I mean, jeez... you torture a few puppies and you're branded a dog killer for the rest of your life. Where's the justice in that?"

"Yes, Patrick, you're the true victim in all of this."

"Whatever," he said. "I'm sick of talking about this. Anyway, what are you doing after school?"

Evelyn gave him a tired look.

"What?" Patrick said. "We're friends, right? Friends hang out after school."

"Don't you have detention?"

"In theory," Patrick answered, "but realistically, it wouldn't be too hard for me to slip away for a few minutes... you know, if you wanted to find an empty classroom and let me fool around under that cute little skirt of yours." He eyed it with a lustful smirk, then started teasing the hem with his fingers. "By the way, have I told you how much I like this outfit? You should dress like this more often."

And with that, down went the judge's gavel.

It's official: I'm dressed like a whore.

"The stockings kinda ruin it, though," Patrick finished, observing them with a frown. Shamelessly, he tried to sneak a peek under her skirt. Evelyn swatted his hand away without looking.

"It was forty degrees out this morning, Patrick."

"Is that cold?" he asked, but he didn't wait for Evelyn's answer. "So you wanna hang out or not?"

"Can't. I'm grading quizzes for Mrs. Lafferty."

It was part of Henry's plea deal. In exchange for Mrs. Lafferty's support, Evelyn agreed to grade her quizzes for the rest of the semester. And how did Henry pay her back? The only way he knew how: with cruelty and malice. No good deed goes unpunished, right?

"Oh?" Patrick said, sounding very intrigued. "And will you be alone while you're grading these quizzes?"

"No, Mrs. Lafferty will be there. She has a student staying late to take a quiz."

"Well, I don't mind an audience... although it might make you a little uncomfortable."

Evelyn heaved a loud, frustrated sigh. "Okay, I'm leaving now," she said, and closed her locker. When she tried to walk away, Patrick gently grabbed her wrist.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," he said, chuckling. "What are you doing on Friday night?"

"Friday's the homecoming game, Patrick."

"Okay, that means nothing to me... but I'm assuming you're going?"

"Yes, Patrick, everyone's going."

"Oh, everyone's going, huh?" His grey-green eyes gleamed. "So if I go, I'll probably see you there."

"Probably."

"Cool." Patrick smiled, very pleased. "We can hang out then."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Patrick."

Evelyn pulled her hand out of his grasp. Patrick frowned as he watched it slip away.

"Why?" he asked in a sullen voice. "You ashamed to be seen with me at a school event? Afraid of what your friends in the student council will think? What Jake Newham will think?"

"Of course not," Evelyn said, but she realized that was a lie. She was ashamed to be seen with Patrick, deeply ashamed, and now she felt like a total hypocrite.

Evelyn grunted low in her throat, regretting this decision with every fiber of her being. "Okay, fine, we can hang out at the homecoming game, but—" She raised her finger and spoke in her stern babysitter voice, the one she pulled out when a stubborn child refused to obey her. So far, she had only used it once: when Max Kenton wouldn't stop pulling his sister's hair, that little shit. "Don't ever interrupt my lunch meetings again, Patrick. Okay? I use those meetings to conduct very important business. The last thing I need is you feeling me up under the table."

"I thought that was a bug," Patrick said with a cheeky little smirk. Evelyn put her hand on her hip and raised her eyebrows, another trick from the babysitter's handbook. Patrick threw his head back and let out a disgruntled moan. "Okay, fine, I won't bother you at lunch anymore."

"Thank you." Evelyn smiled, pivoted on her heel, and walked away with a confident strut. Halfway down the hall, she stopped. "Oh, and I'm reenacting the 'No Touch' rule."

Patrick's jaw clenched. "What?"

"We're friends, right?" Evelyn wore a charming yet taunting smile. "Friends don't touch each other like that."

"Well, maybe not your friends," Patrick said, but ultimately he gave in. "All right, Evelyn, you win, but the same clause applies as before. Fair enough?"

Evelyn pressed her lips together tightly, holding in a laugh. "Sure, Patrick. When I beg you to touch me, feel free to go crazy." She released the laugh once her back was turned. It burst out of her in a series of giggles that rang throughout the hallway like the delightful tinkling of bells.

Patrick listened to it, smiling. "I plan to," he said to himself. Then, before she got too far: "Oh, Evelyn, just one more thing."

She turned around, still giggling. "Hm?"

"I love how you said 'when' and not 'if.'"

Evelyn's laughter caught in her throat, almost choked her.

Patrick's smile grew. "See you tomorrow, Evelyn." He backed away, slipped around the corner, and was gone.

Evelyn stood paralyzed, speechless, her face getting redder and hotter by the second. "That's just... semantics!" she declared, her arms flopping helplessly at her sides.

God dammit, she thought. How the hell does he do that?

It's because he's so attractive, that's what it is. Puberty screwed me over real good, but it gave him a massive growth spurt that turned him into a fricken Adonis. How is that fair? I get a flat chest, no hips, and Patrick gets the chiseled bone structure of a male model. Okay, I'm exaggerating. He's not that good-looking... No, actually he is that good-looking, and it's really unfortunate. If he looked like he did in elementary school, I wouldn't be in this predicament. He's vile and repulsive, but then he smiles and acts so weirdly charming. Oh my god, I hate that I just used the word "charming." But he is. He's grotesquely charming, if that's even a thing. Like most of the time I wanna slap him in the face for the shit he says, but other times, I wanna grab him and...

No.

Wait.

Oh my god, he's doing it again!

Last night, he confessed to murdering cute, fluffy puppies—and I love puppies!—but I'm not even thinking about that right now. No, I'm too busy thinking about his hand under my skirt. I swear to God, if he ever tries something like that again, I'm gonna punch him in the face. Right in the middle of the lunch room, too. Who does that? A sexual deviant, for one. That was practically assault! But I have to smile and go along with it. I have to give him what he wants; otherwise, this torture will never end.

Problem is, I have no idea what he wants. It's not sex, that's for sure. No, he's just using that to distract me... but from what?

Her steps slowed in the middle of the hallway. While contemplating Patrick's motives, Evelyn was fiddling with her right pinky: tracing over it with her thumbnail, bending it, squeezing it until the tip turned reddish purple. Down the hall was Mrs. Lafferty's classroom. The door was propped open, waiting for her to go inside. All right, that's enough now, Evie. She snapped out of her daze, picked up the pace and

"Bye, Manda!"

"See you tomorrow!"

froze as a senior brushed past her right shoulder.

"Whoops, sorry," the girl said, and Evelyn got a big whiff of her spicy, exotic Yves Saint Laurent perfume. It was a woman's fragrance, strong and intimidating, and it masked the soft, sweet, candy-like scent of Evelyn's drugstore perfume. The smell overwhelmed her for a second. Made her nose wrinkle in a silly, childish way. She recovered quickly and spun around just in time to catch a glimpse of the girl's long, thick fishtail braid as she went around the corner. Wrapped around the tail end, winking in the light, was a metallic silver scrunchie.

Evelyn's breath hitched. "That's..." and her feet moved on their own.

Inside the senior locker area, Manda Bosch was humming U2's "With or Without You" while she strolled toward her locker with her books cradled in her arms. The heels of her boots thumped against the tile. Her wide, womanly hips swayed sensually inside a pair of high-waisted, loose-fitting jeans. A black long-sleeve shirt, which she wore tucked, hugged her upper body like a second skin, showing off her ample curves.

Evelyn, who had no curves, was sick with envy. She crossed her arms over her small breasts, feeling unsexy and unfeminine, and thought, If I looked like that, then maybe...

No.

She inhaled sharply, her brown eyes glazed with panic and fear.

No, I shouldn't be here. This was a mistake! Why did I think seeing her would make this any easier? I was having a hard enough time accepting that Henry had sex with someone else, and now that "someone else" has a name and a body and... and I don't think I can handle seeing her face right now. If I see her face, then it becomes real and

A single tear rolled down her cheek, her lips, her chin.

I should go, she told herself, and stepped back. Mrs. Lafferty's waiting for me. I promised I'd grade her quizzes and...

She took one step forward, then another.

Manda Bosch was standing in front of her open locker now, still humming, occasionally singing under her breath: "With or without you… With or without you, oh..." The inside of her locker was decorated with pictures of her friends, her family, and her longtime boyfriend, Matt Aikman, a freshman at USM. Manda was pulling books off the shelf and putting them away in her backpack. While she did this, Evelyn couldn't stop staring at her hands. Manda Bosch had these long, red, perfectly pointed fingernails, and they had cut Henry's face.

At first, the sight of them filled Evelyn with intense, overprotective rage. She wanted to storm up to her and say, "How dare you put your hands on him?" But that feeling passed so quickly. It was there one minute, burning her from the inside, and the next it was gone. It had cooled and hardened into a giant lump that sat in the pit of her stomach, and now a cruel voice was whispering,

What else did she do with those hands?

No, Evelyn didn't want to think about that, not now, not ever, but her mind started conjuring up images on its own. Casting them onto a giant silver screen. Manda Bosch running her hands through Henry's dirty blond hair. Brushing the side of his face with her fingertips. Slipping her hands underneath his shirt and touching him lightly, caressing his stomach, his chest, sliding around to feel the strong muscles of his back.

Evelyn watched the whole film from beginning to end, unable to look away. She was trapped in the middle of a crowded auditorium, strapped to a cushioned red velvet chair, unaware of the surprise waiting for her. It was Friday night at the Aladdin, and everyone in the audience was being treated to a special double feature. Two films. One night only. Buy your tickets in advance, folks, because this is one event you don't wanna miss! The first picture was one of the year's most-anticipated blockbusters, and the next one, well... that one was a classic. Yeah, even an out-of-touch workaholic like Evelyn would recognize that title. In fact, was one of her favorite films. She watched it every night.

In her bedroom.

Alone.

While she sadly traced over the wrinkles in her floral quilt.

Excited applause sprang up around her. Then the lights dimmed and the opening credits began to roll. As soon as the first name appeared on screen, Evelyn's stomach churned with dread. No, she couldn't bear to sit through this movie again. Not again. Not ever again. She got up and fought her way to the aisle, trampling women's purses, tripping over outstretched legs. All the moviegoers lashed out angrily: Get down! Get down, you're blocking the screen! I paid good money to see this flick! She ducked as a box of popcorn came flying at her. It went over her shoulder and exploded against the screen like a spray of fireworks, but Evelyn did not look. No, she would not look. She put her head down and kept moving, eyes closed to the intimate scene that was playing in front of everyone, ears shut to the men who whooped and wolf-whistled, the women who voiced quiet murmurs of disgust. Blind and deaf to it all, she stumbled into the aisle and went running for the exit.

Mr. Foxworth smiled as she passed, his eyes glowing eerily in the light. Don't you wanna see the ending? he said. The ending's the best part.

Evelyn turned back to look at him, her expression a mixture of shock and horror, and then she saw...

("Hey, you okay?")

saw the screen flickering, stuck on a single image. It burned away as a hand reached out from the darkness and landed on her shoulder.

("Hey... Hey!")

"Hey, space cadet!"

Evelyn emerged from her thoughts groggily, blinking. It was Manda Bosch, staring at her with dark chocolate brown eyes, the kind of eyes a boy could get lost in... Henry probably had, too.

(What else did she do with those hands?)

Evelyn flinched with sudden awareness. She looked down at her shoulder, saw the girl's hand, and wrenched away from it. Warily, Manda Bosch withdrew her hand and apologized. There was a small wrinkle between her perfectly shaped brows now. Her lips, red and full, had gathered into a concerned pout that somehow made her even more beautiful.

Did he let you kiss him? Evelyn wondered, devastated.

"Do you need something?" Manda asked, tilting her head. Her voice was melodious and sweet despite her confusion, much sweeter than Evelyn expected.

"Uhh... no," Evelyn said. She drew back a step and crossed her arms in front of her. "Sorry..."

Manda smiled awkwardly. Even that was pretty. "Okay, well... take it easy, okay?"

She made a vague gesture with her hand, circled around Evelyn's right, and started humming again as she walked toward the senior exit. Evelyn cupped her elbows with her palms and withdrew into herself, feeling more like a child than ever. She wanted to go home. She wanted to go home, bury herself under the covers, and forget this day ever happened.

But then she heard Manda's voice again

"Hey," she said, leaning away from the door, "cute dress, by the way."

and that was more than she could take.

Smiling to herself, Manda pushed on the door and walked out. While she strolled through the senior parking lot and swung her keys, while she drove home and sang along to her favorite song on the radio, Evelyn collapsed onto the senior couch, dropped her head into her hands, and sobbed.

"Well, that test sucked."

"Yeah, I hate when they sneak in an extra essay question at the end. What kinda sick, sadistic shit is that? Like I'm stressed out enough, thank you very much, and now you expect me to write a perfectly structured, five-paragraph response to your vaguely worded question? Fuck off with that bullshit. In conclusion, you're a crazy Nazi bitch and your class sucks!"

"Whoa, did you seriously write that? 'Cause you would totally be my hero if you did."

"God, I wish I did... I swear, every time I see that woman, I just wanna—Evelyn!"

Evelyn dried her eyes as Elizabeth Mueller entered the senior locker area with Desiree Van Blair and Peter Gordon.

Unlike most of the upperclassmen, Liz and Des had actually dressed up for spirit week. They figured, what the hell, right? It was their senior year and they wanted to have some fun before they graduated. Today, Liz was wearing a Twiggy-inspired green shift dress with an exaggerated collar, black fishnet tights, and a pair of Mary Janes. Des was wearing her Halloween costume from last year. She went as Holly Golightly from the 1961 romantic comedy Breakfast at Tiffany's, and she got really annoyed when the other students didn't understand the reference. "God, this town's a cultural wasteland. It's like living in the Bermuda Triangle or something. Nobody knows how to dress and everyone sucks."

Liz was currently gushing over Evelyn's outfit. She took the girl's hands and pulled her up from the couch to get a better look at her.

"Oh my god, you look absolutely perfect!" she said, squeezing Evelyn's face between her palms. Close as they were, it was obvious that Evelyn had been crying, but Liz was gracious enough to keep this knowledge to herself. She wiped away the last streak of wetness with her thumb and smiled. "You're the most precious thing I've ever seen in my life."

Evelyn smiled back timidly. "You don't think I look slutty?"

Liz gasped, outraged. "Oh, what bitch said that? Was it Jackie? 'Cause that sounds exactly like something Jackie would say."

Desiree spoke up from the couch. She was sitting on the arm and pretending to smoke from her long black cigarette holder. "Oh my god, Liz, did you see what she was wearing today? She thinks she's Jackie O."

Liz rolled her eyes. "More like Jackie O, could you be more fucking obnoxious? Wait, was that mean?"

"A little, but who cares? It was funny."

The girls tittered like wicked stepsisters and, for a moment, appeared every bit as mean as Greta Bowie and Liz's little sister, Sally. Evelyn stood between them, feeling uncomfortable, feeling like maybe it was time to leave. Liz noticed this and her face flushed with shame.

"Oh shit," she said. "Dammit, Des, we can't keep falling back into old habits like this! I don't wanna go to college with any negativity. I may not like Jackie personally, but that's no reason to cut her down for her unfortunate fashion choices... even though she's a fucking bitch and deserves it." Liz took a deep breath and carried on with a smile. "Anyway, come sit for a minute, Evelyn. Let's talk."

Evelyn's eyes drifted toward the hallway. "Oh, but I really should get going."

Mrs. Lafferty was already expecting her, and...

"Just for a minute," Liz said, and led her back to the couch. Evelyn followed the older girl obediently. They sat side by side, knee to knee. Liz laid her hands neatly on her lap and smiled prettily at her. "So, how's the situation?"

"The situation?"

"She means Hockstetter," Des explained bluntly, while Peter Gordon went to his locker and pretended not to listen. Evelyn suspected he was listening, though, because he kept peeking over his shoulder every now and then. This made Evelyn feel a little uneasy. She didn't want to talk about this around so many people. In fact, she didn't want to talk about it at all. Not with Liz. Not with anybody. She didn't think they would understand.

"We saw that stunt he pulled at lunch today," Des was saying now. "That was bold, even for him."

"Yeah," Liz agreed, "and we just wanted to make sure you're okay."

"Oh, I'm fine," Evelyn said, more abruptly than she'd intended. "Yeah, I've got the situation totally under control."

Liz's made-up doe eyes widened in surprise. "Oh..." she began in a chaste whisper, a faint blush warming her face. As her voice trailed off, her gaze fell slowly, softly, and landed gently as a feather upon Evelyn's neck. "Oh..." Liz said again. Her hand went to her mouth and her blush deepened.

By now, the hickey had faded enough that Evelyn could cover it pretty easily with makeup... or so she thought. Concealed or not, a well-trained eye could probably spot it with little effort. Desiree, who had already established herself as an expert on the subject, lowered her oversized sunglasses and peered down at her.

"Wow," she said with an impressed smirk. "Yeah, I'd say she definitely has it under control, Liz. Good girl. You ride that crazy train."

Liz swatted her friend away like a buzzing fly. Evelyn quickly covered up the mark with her hair.

"It's not what it looks like," she said. "Patrick just—"

"Hey, you don't have to explain yourself," Liz said with false sincerity. Evelyn would have thought it was genuine, but the shrewdness in her eyes gave it away. "We're not judging you or anything."

"Really?" Evelyn said. "Because it kinda seems like you are."

Her tone was sharp, and rightfully so.

"I don't know what you all expect me to do. Everyone keeps judging me for what I do or don't do with Patrick, but what nobody seems to understand is that I don't have a choice! Look, I didn't ask for this, okay? I don't know why Patrick's bothering me all of a sudden, but he is, and now there's nothing I can do about it. I mean, it's inevitable, right? That's what Marci seems to think, anyway, and honestly I'm starting to think she's right. So what am I supposed to do now, Liz? Huh? You were nice enough to warn me about him, but... now what?"

Liz Mueller recoiled as if slapped. All the color drained from her face.

"I don't know," she confessed quietly, suddenly afraid for her. "I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're supposed to do."

Silence prevailed for the next thirty seconds. Liz turned forward, dropped her chin into her chest, and stared guiltily at her manicured hands. Next to her, Desiree had removed her sunglasses and was gnawing anxiously on the plastic tip. Peter Gordon glanced over her shoulder and saw her doing this. He made a sickened face and whipped back around. Right now, he wanted to crawl inside his locker and close the door. He couldn't stand tense silences like this. They reminded him a little too much of home.

"Just... be careful, okay?" Liz finally said. "If things start to get weird, or you start to feel unsafe for whatever reason, make sure you tell someone. Tell your mom, your best friend, me, Marci, just... someone, okay? Most of the other girls wish they had. Shit, I know I did." She reached over and gave Evelyn's knee a comforting pat. "You're not alone in this, Evelyn. I know it might seem like you are, but you're not. We all know what you're going through."

Evelyn smiled gently, gratefully, but part of her wondered if any of them truly understood.

Time crawled forward. Evelyn looked up at the clock and saw that it was almost a quarter to four now. Mrs. Lafferty was probably getting angry with her. She was probably tapping her foot, glaring at the clock, and thinking, Well, is that little brat showing up or what? Evelyn felt guilty about that. She knew it wasn't polite to keep people waiting, and yet...

"Hey, do you guys know Manda Bosch?"

"Manda?" Liz and Des exchanged a furtive glance. "Sure. What about her?"

"There's just a rumor going around about her and a boy in my grade."

"Oh, right," Liz said, and for some reason, Des started to laugh. "I keep forgetting you sophomores are new to this. Look, you just have to learn to ignore her, okay? Manda does this kinda shit all the time, and I mean all the time. She parties way too hard, gets way too drunk, and then cheats on her boyfriend with some loser who won't refuse her. Then she sobers up the next morning, feels guilty, and cries rape to cover her own ass. It's really sad and pathetic, honestly, but I guess it works 'cause her boyfriend still hasn't dumped her even though he's way out of her league. I don't understand the appeal, personally. I mean, she must give really good head or something."

Evelyn squirmed at that remark. Behind her, Peter Gordon was coughing as if he'd swallowed something wrong.

"So you're saying she just made it up?" Evelyn asked, hopeful.

"Oh yeah, for sure. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm all for supporting victims and everything, but Manda Bosch is not a victim. She's just a sloppy, sloppy drunk who will spread her legs for anyone. That sounded really mean, I know, but it's just a fact. She even came onto Pete once, practically right in front of me."

"And I ignored that siren's song," Peter interjected passionately. "I said to her, 'No, you foul temptress, you stay away! I have a beautiful girlfriend and I love her with all my heart.'"

Liz gave him a dubious look. "Yeah, like you're going anywhere." Then, to Evelyn: "See, Pete's not the cheating type. He knows he hit the jackpot with me and he's not about to squander his winnings on some dumb, drunk slut. Find yourself a guy like that, Evelyn, and all these rumors just become background noise."

"Okay," Evelyn said uneasily. This conversation had taken a few unexpected turns and she was struggling to keep up. "So it's definitely not true?"

"No..." Liz said, but her voice sounded strangely high-pitched all of a sudden. "Well, I mean, it's probably not true... Why? Who's the rumor about?"

"Umm, Henry Bowers," Evelyn answered anxiously, and flicked her eyes away. "I don't know if you know who that is."

"Yeah, all you sophomores kinda blur together... Oh, wait, he's the really angry one, right? The kid who always looks like he's gonna stab somebody?"

Evelyn gave a reluctant nod. It wasn't the kindest description, but it was probably the most accurate.

"Huh," Liz said. "Well, that changes things a bit."

Evelyn's stomach dropped. "You think it could be true?"

"Well, no, not necessarily. Hold on a sec." Liz craned her head around and called out to her boyfriend: "Hey, Pete, you used to hang out with that Bowers kid, didn't you?"

"Yeah, for a like a summer," Peter Gordon answered shortly. He wore the tight, apprehensive expression of a man who'd just been asked to take the stand and testify as an eyewitness in a murder trial. "That was a long time ago, Liz..."

Peter was fifteen then and feeling rebellious. His parents had recently split up, and he was going through a tough time. He thought it'd be kind of cathartic to shoot stuff, smash a couple windows, and shoplift dirty magazines. Petty crimes. Maybe a misdemeanor or two. He wasn't expecting it to get as intense as it did, and there were times when Henry Bowers honestly frightened him. He'd never seen so much hate in one person.

"Okay," Liz said, "but did he seem like a rapist to you?"

Evelyn winced at that word. How could everyone throw it around so casually?

"Racist? Yeah. Rapist? No, I wouldn't quite go that far... but again, that was a long time ago. Who knows what that kid's capable of now."

"Not that," Evelyn said. "No, Henry didn't rape anybody."

Liz shrugged. "Okay, well... there's your answer. They probably just had sex."

"Sex. Right."

Evelyn gulped down both words, closed her mouth, and nodded stiffly, feeling her blood thumping in her temples. Liz and Des studied her quietly, looked at each other, and quickly put together the rest of the puzzle. When they saw the completed picture, Des cringed and Liz's pretty pink lips parted with an inaudible gasp.

"Oh..." Liz whispered, looking down at Evelyn with a sympathetic frown. "Oh, sweetie, no..."

Then Des said, "I remember when I was going through my bad boy phase. God, was that a mistake."

Evelyn's face flamed with dull anger. "No, that's not—" but a gruff voice cut her off.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Martin Davers had emerged from the hallway with a notebook wedged under his arm and a pencil tucked behind his ear. He opened his locker, tossed everything inside, and slammed the door closed. His biceps bulged under the tight fabric of his shirt. His eyes, a dark, stormy blue, narrowed into a fierce, territorial glare as he squared up to Evelyn like a menacing troll. Martin was six feet tall and heavily muscled. He used to be on the football team, but he got cut during his second year because he couldn't meet the minimum grade requirement. Now Martin was constantly looking for new ways to release all his pent-up aggression. Evelyn Tozier was his favorite target.

Liz rolled her eyes at Martin, unbothered. "Speaking of bad boys... What do you want, Martin?"

"I'm just wondering what a sophomore's doing in the senior locker area."

Evelyn flinched suddenly, forgetting where she was, and as she looked around now, all the furniture had grown shockingly large. She felt like she was sitting inside some silly funhouse where everything was comically oversized. All the lockers towered over her like skyscrapers. The couch seemed big enough to swallow her whole; Evelyn's feet could barely reach the edge. She sat upon the tattered cushion like a doll waiting for some little girl to come along and carry her off to tea time. Oh, yes, tea time. Tea time with March Hare and the Hatter. Evelyn was a child trapped in Wonderland, lost and scared, staring at the Cheshire Cat's mischievous grin.

"Look, she's with us, okay?" Liz Mueller made a dismissive motion with her hand, then turned back to Evelyn, who had shifted her weight forward in an early attempt to stand. The girl's face had gone terribly pale. "Oh, Evelyn, don't let him scare you off. Martin's just an asshole."

"No, it's okay," she said colorlessly. "I have to get going, anyway."

(I'm late for tea...)

Mrs. Lafferty was expecting her, and it would have been rude to keep her waiting any longer... yes, rude, that sounded right. It was Evelyn's good manners that compelled her to leave so quickly. It was good manners that made her press her thighs together and cross her arms over her chest. Good manners that had her staggering to her feet, mumbling goodbye to the floor, and walking away as fast as she could.

It had nothing to do with Martin's stare—that hot, searing stare that seemed to follow her down the hallway.

Evelyn started apologizing before she even entered the classroom.

"Sorry, I'm late, Mrs. Laff—" she began, but the rest of the words had tumbled inward and back down her throat. She stopped in the middle of the doorway, one foot in, one foot out, with her right arm bent at the elbow, beginning an apologetic wave. Evelyn never finished it, though. Much like her words, her hand had retreated into itself, curled into a loose fist, and fallen limp at her side. Her eyes widened with shock and disbelief. Her heart jogged in her chest. She drew in a breath and held it for a moment, forcing herself to calm down.

Before she arrived, the classroom had been quiet and empty apart from the two occupied desks. Mrs. Lafferty sat at hers with a cup of honeyed tea and was idly stirring it while she reviewed tomorrow's lesson plans. She looked up briefly when she heard Evelyn's voice. It was a very distinct voice, loud and clumsy as one might expect from a Tozier, but at least hers wasn't accompanied by crude humor and poorly performed (not to mention grossly offensive) accents. Yes, in that regard, her little brother was truly unique.

Mrs. Lafferty smiled at Evelyn. "Don't worry about it. You're in fine company. This one kept me waiting, too," she said, tipping her head toward the student sitting in the back. "He's lucky I didn't leave and just give him a zero, but I don't think I'll be getting a thank you for that, will I?"

Mrs. Lafferty was answered with silence. For once, Henry Bowers had nothing to say... not to her, anyway.

He had been hunching over his math quiz and glaring at question number four when he heard Evelyn's voice drift through the open door, her words amplified by the hollow silence that had fallen over the school. As soon as the sound hit Henry's ears, his back straightened and his heart started racing. It was an instinctual reaction, kind of like when Henry flinched whenever his dad reached for his belt. That one motion stirred up a decade's worth of painful memories and emotions and drove them straight to the surface like worms wiggling up from the dirt during a rainstorm. His dad didn't even need to beat him anymore (but he did anyway). He simply had to gesture toward his belt and Henry cowered back in submission. Yes, sir. No, sir. Straighten up and get back in line.

Of course, it was only kind of like that. There was no pain associated with the sound of Evelyn Tozier's voice (unless you counted the slight hangover-like headache that sometimes occurred halfway through a conversation with her). No with her voice, Henry felt only the most wonderful, comforting calm, bright with her laughter, warm with her smile, soft as the woven cotton blanket that he often found draped over him when he woke up in the middle of the night. Henry would sit up, look across the room, and see Evelyn passed out at her desk with her head nestled inside the crook of her arm. Usually, he would leave after that, but sometimes he would sit and observe her for a while, listening to her gentle snoring, watching her skin sparkle beneath the soft glow of her desk lamp, feeling his heart slowly thudding in his chest, getting stronger and stronger. Henry could have stayed like that forever.

Happy.

Peaceful.

Safe.

Evelyn Tozier was a sweet escape, and Henry craved her like a junkie needing a fix. It was a desperate, visceral desire that gripped him more firmly with each passing day. Growing. Intensifying. Evolving into a savage, carnal beast that was impossible to control.

When Henry heard her voice that afternoon, every nerve in his body came alive at once. He had to grip the edge of his desk because he didn't trust himself to stay in his chair. How could he when Evelyn was standing on the other side of that door? When that safe, peaceful, happy feeling was finally within reach? All Henry had to do was get up, run out that door and—

Evelyn appeared in the doorway, wearing that sunshine yellow dress with the flouncy little skirt that went whoosh-whoosh every time she moved her hips. The skirt that tempted him. Teased him. Taunted him. The skirt that Patrick Hockstetter's hand had crawled underneath like some filthy, disgusting insect... and she didn't push his hand away.

??WHY DIDN'T SHE PUSH HIS HAND AWAY??

(Because she's a whore, just like your mother)

No. No, she's not, Dad. She's nothing like—

(YOU ARGUING WITH ME NOW, BOY?)

Belt.

Flinch.

No, sir.

Whore, sir.

!!STRAIGHTEN UP AND GET BACK IN LINE!!

When Henry saw Evelyn in that yellow dress, his mind became a battlefield. All his thoughts were clashing against each other in bloody combat, and he didn't know which side was going to kill the others and claim him. He was being pulled in too many directions. Assaulted by too many urges. All the while, Evelyn stood there staring at him with that hopeful, frightened look, like she desperately wished he would speak to her, but she was also terrified of what he might say.

And that's when Henry realized he was frightened of himself, too.

If he ran to her now like he wanted to, he wasn't sure what would happen. In one thought, he was wrapping his arms around her and hugging her. In another, he was pushing her against the wall and smashing his mouth against her warm, soft lips. In another, he was squeezing his fingers around her neck and throttling her until all the light left her eyes.

Slapping her.

Beating her.

Bashing her head against the wall again and again and again.

(Because that's what you do with whores)

The thought rose up from nowhere. It had caught him off guard. Snuck up behind him and tried to seize control. Henry fought it back and it left easily enough, but he knew it wasn't gone for good. Eventually, it would come back even stronger. Maybe next time it would win. Maybe. Maybe—

"Head down, Mr. Bowers," Mrs. Lafferty said as she stood up from her desk. "You're here to take a quiz, not gawk at pretty girls."

"Fuck you, bitch," Henry muttered under his breath, relieved to hear his own voice again. Just his own voice again.

Mrs. Lafferty walked over to Evelyn, who had turned away and was now approaching a small table at the front of the classroom. Honestly, Henry was glad for the distance. The further away the better. For her sake. He put his head down and tried to focus on his quiz.

"You don't have to finish this all today, of course," Mrs. Lafferty was saying to Evelyn, "just the two morning classes should be enough. Whatever you have left, you can just leave in the pile there. I'll take the rest home with me tonight."

Evelyn nodded, pulled out the chair, and sat down. As soon as she did, she felt two eyes drilling through the back of her skull. Her heart bucked wildly. She looked over her shoulder and caught Henry's gaze for half a second, but then Mrs. Lafferty called her attention back and placed two red pens on the table. Upon withdrawing her hand, she said, "Oh, and Evelyn? No doodling on the quizzes, please."

Evelyn smiled back sheepishly. "Right, sorry... sometimes I get a little carried away."

After all, grading quizzes got awfully boring after a while. In that state, it was easy for her to accidentally turn a simple smiley face into a cat or a dog... or a cute, friendly little monkey swinging off the edge of the score. Evelyn was no artist, but she hoped her doodles gave the students a good chuckle when they got their quizzes back. Especially those who failed. For those unlucky few, Evelyn hoped her drawings helped soften the blow, if only just a little.

Mrs. Lafferty returned to her desk and reached for her tea. After taking a few slow sips, she lowered her cup and said with a forced smile, "By the way, Evelyn, I had a lovely little chat with your mother this morning."

"Oh?" Evelyn said, and that was where the conversation ended.

Judging by Mrs. Lafferty's expression, there had been nothing lovely about that chat, nothing at all.

Evelyn put her head down and quietly began her work: comparing each answer against the key, marking the wrong ones with her pen, counting up the marks, tallying up the final score, and printing it at the top of the page. Each score was accompanied by an encouraging message like GREAT JOB! WAY TO GO!! AWESOME EFFORT!!! Then she would place the paper in the completed pile and move on to the next one.

Behind her, Henry Bowers kept his head bent over his quiz the whole time, his expression frustrated and tense. Evelyn didn't look back at him either, not once, not even when the urge was so strong she thought she might go crazy. She couldn't bear to look at him now, conflicted as she was. It brought up too many questions... questions Evelyn wasn't sure she wanted the answers to.

Did you let her kiss you? she wondered as she stared down at the red pen. Because I never...

"Head down, Mr. Bowers. I won't say it again."

Evelyn sucked in a quiet breath, held it, and slowly peeked over her left shoulder. Henry's head was down again, his hand furiously scribbling on the paper. Evelyn continued to hold her breath, continued to stare, until his eyes finally lifted off the page. Henry's writing hand slowed, then stopped. Evelyn's breath left her in a long, drawn-out sigh. Then Mrs. Lafferty got up from her desk, Henry dropped his head, and Evelyn turned back around.

"Evelyn, I need to go to the teacher's lounge for a few minutes," she said, but what she really meant was, I'm stepping outside for a smoke. "Henry, you have five minutes left. Leave your quiz on my desk when you're done."

Mrs. Lafferty's heels clicked delicately as she walked, the sound drifting further and further... further away. Then there was only silence.

Evelyn sat back and stared gloomily at the clock. It was four twenty-two now, but the time never registered in her head. She was too busy thinking, hoping, wishing those hands would unwind and go backward just this once. Take them back to that blissful Before: before Evelyn wore this stupid dress, before Henry had sex with Manda Bosch, before Patrick Hockstetter picked up Evelyn's clipboard, followed her into the hallway, and asked, Where have I seen you?, before the trunk, before the stolen shirts, before the long, lonely, miserable summer... before Evelyn crossed the line and messed everything up.

Can we just go back, please? she begged. Because every day after that has been a total nightmare.

(and she had a terrible feeling it was only going to get worse)

Evelyn gave the clock one last pleading look, and the clock stared back in silent refusal. Its hands ticked, tocked, and crept forward.

(Tick)

(Tock)

(Tick)

(Tock)

Henry finished his quiz, dropped it off on the teacher's desk, and—

Evelyn stood up and said, "Can you please talk to me? Because I really don't understand what I did wrong."

Her plea was weak, desperate. Henry didn't even hear it. He went around her and started walking toward the door.

What the fuck?

"Henry!" she cried softly... in her Before voice.

Henry stopped as soon as he heard it, his whole body stiffening in recognition, and for a moment time seemed to stop.

(Tick—)

Finally, he spoke. "You know, I thought..." His voice emerged from deep in his throat, strangled with grief and despair. "I thought we were..."

"What?" Evelyn said. "What?"

JUST SAY IT!

Henry's jaw clenched tightly, and his lips drew back in a pained smile. "Fuck you, Evelyn," he said and went out.

(Tock)

Evelyn's mouth fell open in a stifled cry of disbelief. Hope left her eyes as defeat washed over her. Her legs went weak, gave out, and she collapsed back into her chair, numb, speechless. Above her, the clock watched with cold indifference. Its hands crawled forward... forward... forward.

(Tick)

(Tock)

(Tick)

(Tock)

Sometime later, while Evelyn was lackadaisically doodling on a student's quiz, she heard the slow, dragging thumps of Mrs. Lafferty's feet coming down the hallway.

"I've already finished the first two stacks," Evelyn reported half-heartedly, "and I'm halfway through the third."

She moved the quiz to the completed pile, turned around, and froze.

Martin Davers was leaning beside the door with his arms folded over his chest.

"That's a really nice dress," he said.

Evelyn rose from her chair slowly, her heart pumping loudly in her chest. "What do you want, Martin?"

"Nothing," he answered, his eyes calm and attentive. "I guess I just wanted to know why you're trying so hard to dress sexy all of a sudden." Martin seemed to ponder this soberly for a moment, his brow furrowed in mock perplexity. "'Cause from where I'm standing, it kinda looks like you're trying to advertise something. Is that right, Tozier? Are you open for business now?"

"Open for business?" Evelyn repeated. The phrase stunned her so completely that she almost laughed. "It's spirit week, Martin. I have to dress up."

"Oh, I see," Martin said, fascinated. "You had to dress in a skimpy skirt today. That was today's theme."

Evelyn's mouth opened and closed wordlessly.

"Wait, that wasn't today's theme?" Martin cocked his head to the side and frowned. "Well, then why are you wearing that dress, Evelyn?"

She stared at him, unable to speak. Why had she chosen this dress? Why this dress over all the others? Mrs. Criss had dozens of modest dresses that would have satisfied today's theme just as well. She had boxes and boxes of them. Evelyn tried them on. They had fit her perfectly, way better than this dress did. Why had she cast them aside?

"I was just following the theme," she said, her eyes vacant, glassy.

"You were just following the theme." He nodded. "Okay, Evelyn, answer me this: what was today's theme?"

Her stomach twisted. "Huh?"

"Go on, tell me. What was today's theme?"

His voice was shrill and full of scorn. Evelyn shut her mouth tightly, her bottom lip quivering, and shook her head as tears flooded her eyes.

"Please stop," she whispered.

"Well?"

"Stop."

"Tell me."

She swallowed hard and answered: "It was Groovy Monday."

"Right," he said, "it was Groovy Monday, not Skimpy Monday, not Slutty Monday. It was Groovy Monday. Thank you for clearing that up for me, Evelyn, because I was so confused for a second." He smiled at her, grateful. "Now, let's go back to my initial question: why are you trying so hard to dress sexy? Because that's an awfully short dress, Evelyn."

"It follows the dress code," she said, but then from the dark, shadowy part of her mind, she heard

(barely)

another voice that made her eyes widen with a horrific realization. This really was a terribly short dress. Yes. Yes, she saw that now. Not short enough to make her parents worry. Not short enough to violate the school's dress code.

(No more than four inches above the knee... Did you measure it, Evelyn?)

But just short enough to—

Martin wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Are you trying to get someone's attention, Evelyn? Show him what he's missing?"

"No," she answered in a shaky voice, but the other, faraway voice spoke the truth.

(Yes)

She had wanted to get someone's attention today, and she got it, oh yes, she got it. When Henry Bowers stormed up to her that morning, when he grabbed her arm and pulled her hard against him, when he glared down at her, stared at her lips with that feral, ferocious hunger, Evelyn felt her heart flutter with such excitement. For a minute, she thought he was actually going to kiss her. She wanted him to.

(If I had been wearing this dress that day, then maybe...)

Evelyn slapped her hand over her mouth, but still the voice persisted:

(Yes)

(and you got what you wanted, didn't you?)

(Yes)

Guilt crept into her heart and devoured her slowly, leaving her hollow and cold. "Look," she said huskily, blinking the wetness from her eyes, "Mrs. Lafferty's gonna be coming back in a minute, so..."

Martin clucked his tongue in dissent. "I think it might take her a little longer than that."

For a moment, Evelyn's gaze was blurry with tears. Then it cleared as strange, dizzying terror stole through her. It was almost like a bad dream. In a slow daze, she saw Martin walking toward the door. Saw him tuck his boot underneath the doorstop and kick it up with one flick of his ankle. The door moaned and swung slowly, so slowly, and closed with a whisper of a click. Evelyn's breath stopped. Her body froze with fear.

"What are you doing?" she asked in a small, trembling voice.

Martin answered her question with one of his own: "What were you doing in the senior locker area, Evelyn?"

"What?" The word came out dry and brittle, and it crumbled as it left her lips. "Nothing, I was just..."

Martin stepped toward her, his blue eyes glinting ominously in the light.

"You were just...?"

Adrenaline shot through her, sending Evelyn's heart into a mad gallop. She glanced at the door and made herself move. Martin closed the distance. She side-stepped, tried to duck around him, and he caught her brutally by the wrist. A scream fetched in her throat. Their eyes locked fiercely, and for one frightening moment, Evelyn saw the same savage hunger that had consumed Henry Bowers. Her heart stopped. Her mind exploded and went flying, crashing, tumbling down into deep blackness like a stone down a well, falling down to a cold, dark place, where a voice—that voice—was giggling.

(You got what you wanted, didn't you?)

Now her fear had collapsed into pure panic. She struggled against him, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps, and tried to wrestle her arm free. Martin overpowered her easily, flung her around, and slammed her down hard against the desk. Evelyn's body hit the wood with a dull thud. Her head jerked forward, snapped back, and spun dizzily. Clockwise. Her vision blurred and became ringed with darkness. She was falling, plunging down to that cold, dark, guilty place.

"What's wrong, Tozier?" Martin asked breathlessly. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

"Please stop!" she said, but her voice had slipped away from her and went up, up, up.

"You wanted attention, right? Wanted people to finally see you as a woman?"

"No! No!"

(YES!)

"Well, I see you, Tozier," Martin said. "Yeah, I see you crystal fucking clear."

Evelyn fell deeper and deeper, screaming without a sound, and slammed against something hard and cold. The bottom. She had finally hit the bottom. Her right cheek was pressed against the desk, and Martin's hand was on her head, holding her firmly in place. He didn't have to hold her down, though. Evelyn couldn't have moved even if she wanted to. She was too far gone, trapped in that cold, dark place, and now the guilt was creeping toward her on all fours, its eyes bright and hungry, desperate to feed. Evelyn lay on her stomach, paralyzed, watching it come closer and closer... closer and closer... until—

The knob turned and the door opened.

Henry Bowers stood on the other side, blinking in dazed bewilderment.

Martin threw him a vicious grin. "You want in on this, Bowers?" he asked while he pushed some of Evelyn's hair away from her face. "You can go first if you want."

Evelyn flinched away from Martin's hand and felt Henry's eyes land on her softly, gently, filling her heart with such sweet relief. For a moment, she thought she was weightless, flying, floating far away from that cold, dark guilty place, but then she saw something that turned her heart into stone, and she plummeted right back to the bottom.

Henry's eyes, those bright, beautiful blue eyes, had suddenly darkened into the most terrifying shade of black. Evelyn didn't even recognize them anymore.

Time crawled forward and stopped. The clock on the wall stopped ticking. Its hands screeched to a halt and stood at attention, waiting for their next command.

It came a second later, in a shocking act of betrayal.

"No," Henry said, "she's not worth it."

The door closed and time resumed with a violent lurch, knocking Evelyn backward, backward, backward. The clock on the wall started tocking and ticking, tocking and ticking: backward, backward, backward. Its hands went spinning, whirling, unwinding: backward, backward, backward. Counterclockwise. Taking them back. Taking them all the way back.

And now that voice was speaking to her again, speaking from that cold, dark place.

(You got what you wanted, didn't you?)

Yes, she answered. Yes, I did.

_____________________

PREV // CURRENT // NEXT

taglist: @secrethologramflower @rosepresley

#bowers gang #henry bowers #patrick hockstetter #victor criss #belch huggins #fanfic #fanfiction #henry bowers fanfiction #patrick hockstetter fanfiction #it stephen king #it 2017 #paper men #ambrossart

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malfromtheblue · 1 year ago

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Okay, Hendrixx who doesn't take meds unless you give it to him?

Hendrixx who refuses to see the therapist unless you're in the room with him??

Hendrixx who is so obsessed with reader that he purposefully hurts himself. Not bad enough for surgery, just bad enough to get checked out by reader.

Hendrixx, Hendrixx, Hendrixx, my new HUSBANDDDD

Ah yes. These things most definitely give Hendrixx.

It didn't take long for Hendrixx to fall for you. I mean, how could he not? You were the most this shithole had to offer. You were hard-working, determined, and confident without breaking a sweat. And GOD did he love that about you.

And the obsession began. It started with meds. The nurses would go around to different units and give the patients their medications before lights out. And this is when Hendrixx would refuse to take them. His current nurse, Nurse Ruby, was the most gag-worthy nurse he had. Every night, dressing up in a tight nurses uniform, unbuttoning it down to make it even harder for Hendrixx to keep down his dinner.

"H! How are you today?" She asked in an annoyingly high-pitched voice, that probably wasnt even her actual tone.

Hendrixx just sat in his corner and kept his eyes cast down to avoid having to look at her.

"Oh, H. You've been so grumpy lately. But it's time to take meds! Hopefully you can sleep all the grumpiness away, yeah?"

He got up to comply, when he caught sight of you from the corner of his eye. You were talking to the main doctor. This pissed him off. The doctor was obviously flirting with you. Always getting so close to you, and laughing at your jokes, and not to mention doing anything he could to touch you. When he laughed he'd gently nudge your arm, and if he asked you a question he'd put a hand on your shoulder. Just made Hendrixx want to gouge out the doctor's eyes and make him chew and swallow them.

"H? You need to take your medici-" Ruby began but got cut off.

He growled. "Its HENDRIXX. And you're going to have to knock me out first."

Ruby shook her head. "Stop being silly. Your meds are very important."

He snarled, his slimy black tongue slipping out between his teeth. "Maybe to you. But I don't give a fuck."

Ruby took a step back, shaking a little. "Now, H-"

He slammed a fist on the bomb-proof glass. "It's Hendrixx, you stupid BITCH!" He punched the glass once more, causing the space to shake.

"Hendrixx, what in the DAMN hell are you doing?"

A familiar voice snapped. Hendrixx immediately smiled and lowered his fists. It was you!

"Nothing at all, my love! How was your day?" He asked, casually.

You put your hands on your hips. "Don't 'my love' me. You know you're not supposed to be banging on the glass"

He slumped a little. "Yeah, but she was making me mad!" He whined.

"I don't care! That most certainly gives you no reason to call her a bitch either." You scolded, pointedly.

Hendrixx looked at the ground. "Yes, ma'am."

You took the little paper cup of meds from Nurse Ruby and slid it into the metal tube connecting the outside to the inside. Hendrixx took it happily now that you were here.

And ever since that time he refuses to take meds from anyone but you.

And then there was an issue with the therapist. Hendrixx hated him. He was blunt and rude and liked to call in the guards every time Hendrixx growled at him. He deserved it! He was an asshole.

So in a certain session, the therapist mentioned how he didn't think you were an excuse to act out, and Hendrixx was on the man so fast, strangling him with such force, he almost snapped his neck. And he would have too, if you hadn't showed up with the guards.

"Hendrixx, what in the hell?!"

He hopped up and smiled. "(Reader)!! You look absolutely ravishing!"

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Hendrixx, why were you choking out that poor guy?"

Hendrixx rolled his eyes. "He's nobody you should worry about, he's a dick."

You gave him that look. The mama look. Hendrixx sighed. "Okay, okay. I won't do it again." He backed up and let the guards take the therapist away. Now you accompany him to every session to assure that he doesn't try to kill him again.

And not to mention the time he accidentally cut himself with the little plastic fork that he could barely hold in his big hands. You had come in to wrap up the little prick because he wouldn't stop howling and groaning about how bad it hurt. And now he hurts himself on anything he can find if he hasn't had enough time with you.

He was hopelessly in love with you. Nobody made his long tongue knot like you did. Nobody made his face catch fire like you did. Nobody set his vision into a pink haze like you did. And nobody could love you like he did. Ever ~

~Mal 🍵💕

*Hendrixx getting revenge and blowing up the facility while you and him are safe in a car like*:

#sh mention #yandere blog #yandere oc #yandere fic

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fuwaprince · 1 year ago

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Friends beware.... I'm about to bitch again!

I'm too sad and disgusting to see anybody (and if I do run into someone here, I can 100% expect to be shamed for not making myself look any more presentable... I sort of had to adopt this shameless attitude about it all otherwise the shame would crush my soul. Sorry if that makes me seem like an apathetic asshole to everyone... And to clarify, of course, I care so deeply)

So I'm still just laying in my room. It's still gross because I suck ass at taking care of myself and don't have the will to keep trying. I get shamed every time I take down the trash or recycling I produce because "it's gross" so I'm just laying alongside my yucky mess. I didn't wash any laundry so I'm repeating the same fit I have been for days which is fine- at least I have clothes to keep me warm. I refuse to leave my room for any reason so of course I haven't showered or brushed my teeth. There's takeout food in here from before October. There's cans of soup with black mold growing that I once drank cold and straight out of the can because I didn't want to be terrorized for going to heat it up using the microwave. I put cups over the top to trap the disgusting smells and it works but I still have to see it. There's old piss in a cup from when I was too unwilling to leave my room for the bathroom. Annoying flying bugs. I still left all the things of my ex exactly where he put them because it's too painful for me to touch any of it. I can't even move my most recent ex girlfriend's halo book off of my bed to return to her because I just get sad having to reach out to give it back. I wish I could mail it back but that also requires touching it. My PTSD is bad. I'm alone and my laptop for school broke a few weeks ago but I don't really have any control over that. Yeah I need it but I couldn't care less as someone with shit like food insecurity on the mind. I ebeg for rent because it would be horrible to have to clear out this room and live on the streets. There's section 8 but honestly? I'm not applying for the same reason I refuse to reapply for food help. My mom holds onto all my papers and refuses to give me access to them. Yeah it's illegal and her husband works with law enforcement. She even refused to give me my SARS 7 papers when I repeatedly came by to ask if I had any mail. Those papers are what would have allowed me to still have food assistance. I just needed to fill them out but she didn't want me to have food. I'm afraid the same thing would happen if I tried to get any gov assistance. I talked with a coordinator at school who helps students like me stay alive in the face of financial emergencies and insecurities. She said the gov keeps using paper instead of going digital because "it works" even though it doesn't make things easy for any parties involved. Some friends at school have offered me to clean my room but I refuse to let them because I think they're too weak to handle the gravity of it all and I'm not willing to be reprimanded the whole time for letting it get this bad. I hope I can get a job by my birthday. Yesterday I had homemade onigiri that my prof was kind enough to bring me, a piece of candy and two grape tomatoes (I plucked those while I was out for a smoke break). The one guy who is nice enough to help me is a total fucking moron misogynist creep. I don't take all his help because I know it's conditional. One time we slept together because he bought me a hotel room when I was homeless and begging for the ability to take a shower and rest somewhere safe. He refused to gender me properly and when I referred to my dick as a dick, he got angry and kept "correcting" me by saying "CLIT" -___- he thinks he owns me I stg and insults me whenever I establish a healthy boundary. I still need help.

I have humility and I can give myself grace when no one else here does. I'm not afraid to talk about the reality of how bad shit is. I need to document it so that I can look back and see how far I've come. One day I'll be so far removed from this place and this state of mind. I have to keep going.

#i miss volunteering at the homeless shelter this time of year #the director lady knew I didn't have family and would send me home with a whole pie #and it was the best distraction #i rather not be here and i wish i could go do something good but im not rly in a good position to #i wanna go eat and talk with a homeless family #they'd adopt me as family for a day and no one would be uncomfortable or disgusted by my lack of self care

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y4wnjunz · 1 year ago

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the eventful day of hiro, aka the second most traumatic day of my life.

trigger warning: blood.. like lots of it, sharp objects, food, panic attacks, vomit, again.. blood, fainting, fuzzy body feelings, idk i’m just adding things that put my body into a state of panic

lmfao, i thought today was gonna be a good day, with celebrating my brother’s 31st birthday but NOPE.

i woke up, ate cereal and even took vitamins!! woo self care is a win 💪🏻

literally hours later i was slicing tomatoes for the cookout when i got a lil too excited and sliced a good bit of my finger off, i panicked and ran it under water, when I REALISED I TURNED THE HOT WATER ON AND SCALDED MYSELF. i ran to the paper towels and wrapped my hand up and threw myself on my couch, bc i knew if i didn’t have something near me i would’ve fallen out. so i gave my dog sit near me to comfort me until my parents got home. once they did, i ran to my room because i didn’t want them to be overly concerned, so as soon as i lay on my bed and elevate my legs, my body goes numb, my ears started muffling everything and i get dizzy, so i knew i was about to faint or throw up. so i ran to the bathroom and vomited and called my mom crying because i was mortified.

when she gets to me, she helps me with the cut, luckily it’s not extremely deep but i grazed a capillary so the bleeding was non stop, but controlled!! i am curled up with my finger bandaged haphazardly to keep it clean in the meantime, so everything starts getting fuzzy again so my mom brings me a rag and i lay myself against my tub with my legs elevated because I REFUSE TO FAINT!!!

within 5 mins, my whole family is here getting ready for the party, so i trudge to the kitchen and the fuzzy feeling comes back so i tell them i need to lay down.

the rest of the day goes smoothly, i watched spongebob with my nephew because he was worried about me, and i ate a hamburger (or attempted to because after everything i wasn’t too hungry). i take a 4hr long nap to help my body heal faster and to ease my headache, which hasn’t gone away.

now, i change the bandages, and put a finger condom on to help me wash my hair. THAT SHIT DID NOT WORK AT ALLLLLLLL. this bitch got a bit of water in it and it hit my cut so i’m shaking and throwing myself around because not only does it hurt but it BURNS. my body nearly shut down frfr after that, but i pushed through it and cleaned myself up.

long story short, BE CAREFUL WITH SLICERS, KNIVES, BOX CUTTERS OR ANYTHING SHARP PLEASE!!

i suppose i’m definitely not made for the kitchen so my boyfriend will be in charge from now on <3

#hiro talks #🐰.txt #i hurt tf outta myself #do not be like me #be safe friends #use cutlery responsibly please

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bishiglomper · 2 years ago

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I'm trying to take a recovery nap but all im doing in laying here stewing in indignant rage

All because the other day we went to the movie theater and these people always find a way to piss me the fuck off amd i can't get over it.

Im not allowed to bring my backpack purse in. At all. Im talking one of those mini backpacks, or a tiny bit larger. Half the size of the average schoolbag. They gave me such a hard time over it. Refused me past the ticket guy. Even if i said they could look through it. I OFFERRED. "No, it needs to stay in your car"

Fine. Whatever. Though being away from my bag with all my meds and shit it like having nomophobia. If you cant stand not having a phone in your hand think how uncomfortable i am not having my meds. Do you have any idea how often i need shit. Or how abruptly shit literally strikes me? ITS THE SIZE OF A LARGE PURSE, BUT FINE. NO BAG. This also pisses me off because right before the movie started my nephew hurt my sisters literally broken foot. She cried. Asked for ibprofen. Which of course i couldn't give any to her.

Meanwhile moms can have diaper bags big enough to carry whole-ass children in them, no question.

And then one time I buy a bottled drink. Ask for ice to go with it

You know what they tell me? That i need to pay for a full drink. Like what the fuck do you think i want the ice for? I am paying for a drink. A fucking paper cup is not worth the addtional $5 I want to put the $5 drink i already bought from you in.

So i started bringing in bottles of ice. Just ice. No water in it, no outside drinks. Just ice. I don't hide or otherwise try to conceal it because I'm not sneaking in food?

But as we were leaving the custodian freaked the fuck out saying "YOU CANT BRING THAT IN IT NEEDS TO STAY IN YOUR CAR." "I only brought ice." "NO YOU CANT BRING THAT IT IN, LEAVE IT IN YOUR CAR NEXT TIME"

Bitch I will fuckingg FIGHT YOU

I swear to god I'm gonna dump my purse into a traffic cone and drag that shit in. And I'm gonna fill it with bottles from home- and fill them with silly putty or slime or something. Because while ice may be classified as a food by the FDA I'm pretty fucking sure slime does not. 😤

#im thinking for real though im gonna dump a ton of shit into a pillow case at the very least. still not a bag.#still bringing bottles too #i stg im gonna protest this bullshit #what else can i use thats not a traffic cone but just as riduculous #hmmm #i cant think of anyrhing that wouldnt be a pain to get out of the car or up their stairs. 😕

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therapardalis · 1 year ago

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memeusup:

SENTENCE MEME ⟶ SINGLE PARENTS / 1.11 – 1.12 always feel free to tweak the sentence to fit your muse.

[Cut for length.]

“And those are the ten best fruits.”

“I can’t take it anymore. What’s up with the suit?”

“I ran into them at the store, while I was right in the middle of a free sample of crumb cake.”

“What are you, a private detective?”

“I’ve just been more willing to put myself out there.”

“Wow, I’m really proud of you.”

“There is no live audience for local news.”

“My dad skills are on-point.”

“When you experience zazz, you’ll know it in your bones. And your butt.”

“Uh. Something happened. Is it noticeable?”

“This feels more like a cover-up than a wipe-off.”

“A bad picture can haunt you an entire year.”

“I’m a lost cause, but you still have time.”

“Tell me who did this. I promise I’ll be cool.”

“I’ll kill them!”

“I can’t do it tonight. I mean, technically I could I just don’t want to.”

“His day is ruined! And not to be an alarmist, but maybe his life.”

“You gotta admit, it’s hilarious.”

“His face looks like the side of a bathroom stall.”

“Apologies are for the weak.”

“So in the future when a self-driving car is president and the robots figured out that the only thing they need from us is teeth, at least these two will be able to handle themselves.”

“What the hell are you doing?”

“If you refuse to civilize them, I’ll do it myself.”

“Good luck getting an apology. Maybe after that you can push back the ocean or wrestle the wind.”

“You’ve been lulled into a California complacency like a tan baby eating an avocado.”

“Here’s a weather report: that audition was a natural disaster.”

“This whole bowl of popcorn could be yours if you could just apologize.”

“I was trying to be edgy.”

“I love that you’re going after your dream.”

“I’ll take that comparison as a compliment.”

“I’ll take you from hateable to relatable.”

“I hope you’re happy. You made me abandon my principles.”

“It took four hours using questionable tactics, but I did it.”

“The bangs were a mistake.”

“Are you done with the mustache jokes?”

“They’re helpless and I’m done trying to help.”

“Mess with me, fine. But no one messes with [name]!”

“Being a jerk is not a survival skill.”

“He’s your friend, even though he’s whiny and weird.”

“Being angry is exhausting.”

“I haven’t said sorry since 1998.”

“That’s a start, and you have to start somewhere.”

“It could be boring, but it’s not with you. You make it fun and interesting and weird.”

“Did you just double blindfold me?”

“You must be [name]. What a wonderful face.”

“I feel like I’m crying.”

“Get a hold of yourself.”

“I’m always curious to know what goes on at these ‘girls nights’. What do you do? Eat yogurt and tickle each other?”

“Did you know that photos could be on paper?”

“Never give away anything unless you’re getting something back.”

“Nobody likes a kiss-ass.”

“I love these so much, I got adult-baptized in them.”

“The joy of giving lasted five seconds!”

“I’ll fall for that, but only because I love you.”

“Without riles, social order falls into chaos.”

“Get in here, bitch!”

“I bet you’re really annoying on vacation.”

“Every time I see her face, I just wanna yell.”

“I’m like Gwyneth Paltrow if she had a baby with Gwyneth Paltrow.”

“I know that look. You two dummies did something good, didn’t you?”

“You’re like the closest thing we have to Liam Neeson.”

“I’m not gonna come to your rescue, but what I am gonna do is teach you a life lesson because you’re both emotionally seven years old.”

“You did something nice, but it was a dumb accident.”

“Why does my mouth taste like pennies?”

“Can I interest you in a thousand hugs?”

“That gutted feeling? You’ll get over it.”

“I just go along with it because it makes her feel good.”

“You can’t just show up here and undermine everything I do.”

“I hate that I make you feel like what you do isn’t important.”

“Now go be a man and get your shoes back.”

“You’re a very scary woman.”

“You’re the strongest person I know.”

“This conversation has already gone on longer than I care for.”

#Prompts #Please don't reblog from here without sending one - reblog from the source instead

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missskzbiased · 3 years ago

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The Things We Don’t Tell

Summary: You were sure your life was written and directed to fit a sketchy Rom-Com and nobody could convince you otherwise. First, your boss was too hot to be true, and burning with desire didn’t even begin to explain the tingling sensations he left on you. Second, your coworker (a.k.a. Ex-About-to-be-FWB) insisted in turning your life into a living hell, which wasn’t the exact kind of hotness you were into. And if having these two hot men around you every single day of your life wasn’t enough to prove it, maybe the threat of your slutty secret identity about to be busted would be… But you couldn’t let this happen.

WC: 7,5 K

Genre: Smut, Humor (?)

AUs: Office, Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin X Fem!Reader X Bang Chan

(Not really a love triangle as Hyunjin is the Lead. However, Reader wants to Bang Chan)

Rebloggable Masterlist // Main Masterlist // Tag List

Warnings: Language, Thigh riding, Public space (Office), Exhibitionism, Possessiveness, Pet Name (Baby girl), Sir Kink

[If I forgot anything, please let me know! I’m kinda sleepy right now]

Notes: There will be at least one more chapter but I won’t do a tag list post for now, only if someone wants it, cuz I’m too lazy to think about doing it right now. This fic is an attempt to experiment with some writing style things that I’ve been wanting to try. I don’t think it worked, tho SUHAHUSAUHSUHA But that’s life

- I’ll quite possibly change the title in the future-

///

You are a superhero.

Okay! To be honest, you may be exaggerating a little bit ─ a tiny harmless little bit ─ but that was how you felt every single day of your life, alright? You had this glorious and mysterious side of yours that you hid from everyone else in the world… That mask that you couldn’t let come to the ground and would fight for dear life to protect… That side to your persona that no one was allowed to meet… The fierce, bold, and dark aspects of your soul that—

“Y/N! I want those papers on my table!”

“Yes, sir!” You shrieked in an embarrassing (not even slightly bold) way.

— That you couldn’t show at your work.

Yeah… So maybe no one actually thought of you as a superhero, but you really believed someone should start to. Was there something that different between your life and those low-budget TV shows people seem to enjoy so much? You didn’t think so.

To be fair, sometimes you felt like someone wrote a questionable script and poorly directed your life to fit you as the leading lady of a sketchy rom-com. As if they just focused on checking out every point on a bullet list made up with rules for a successful superhero office drama that wasn’t even that good…

… And speaking of which…

Rule Number One: The stern (maybe kinda attractive) boss!

If you had to define Bang Chan with a couple of adjectives, you would choose undeniably beautiful ─ extremely professional of you because the right words to describe him were fucking hot ─ and committed. Fortunately, it wasn’t an “I have someone waiting for me at home and a bunch of kids I must put to sleep” kind of commitment, which would destroy your hopes of having this man one day. Unfortunately, it was an “I’m better than the header and gonna run this company by tomorrow night” kind of commitment, which destroys your hopes of a peaceful day at work.

Now, it’s not like you don’t want to do your job! It’s just that you didn’t sign up to be Bang Chan’s perfect little toy ─ definitely not the better words to describe it ─ and you didn’t expect to be joined by the hips ─ really? ─ with him or any of your coworkers. The thing is that Bang Chan wants to be on top ─ someone has to stop you ─ and he believes the only way to get there is to work as a team and be as perfect as one can be. In other words, Bang Chan wants absolutely everything and everyone to be neat, tight, and ready to be used ─ again… Not the better way to put your thoughts into words ─, but this just wasn’t who you were.

It also wasn’t the point right now.

The point right now should be the fact that Bang Chan was striding to his office looking like he owned the whole damn place… If this was a movie, the camera would be focusing on his expensive, black leather shoes before scanning all the way up to his waist in slow motion. The scene would zoom in on his fine ass only to go a little bit up and catch the shiny, black belt wrapping around his figure. The outfit didn’t leave much to the imagination, but you had a hell of a productive mind… You could think of a few things you shouldn’t really be thinking about right now.

Bang Chan didn’t seem to understand he was at work either.

He rolled his sleeve up in a sexy motion that should be illegal. It isn’t. You can tell by the way there are no cops bursting inside the building and arresting this gorgeous son of a bitch.

The lack of any authorities to stop this atrocious moment had you lowering your gaze to your desk ─ a vain attempt to ignore the way his forearms flexed as he gestured and ordered people around. If you were a little bit less professional, you would have some ideas of how he could do it in bed. With you. But you weren’t some kind of creepy perv who would be fantasizing about riding your own boss from dusk till dawn.

Not at all.

“Do you need me, Sir?” His secretary asks politely.

A question that you would love to ask him too… In a totally and strictly professional way, of course.

Rule Number Two: The (extremely unnecessary) nemesis!

The shiver running down your spine could mean only one thing: Hwang Hyunjin ─ your obnoxious coworker ─ was standing right behind you, just like a bloody damn ghost. There was no need to turn around. You knew he had his mocking eyes glued on Bang Chan’s figure, and you could feel the air shifting as he tilted his head in a silent sneer before leaning on your desk.

You refused to turn around and acknowledge his presence; painfully aware that he would flash a wide grin while looking at you with a knowing glint in his eyes. You wouldn’t give him the taste of seeing in your face that he was right; that you were staring at your boss as if you were a starving vulture. So you did the only thing you could do in this situation: You started to work. The sheets scattered over your desk wouldn’t walk by themselves to Bang Chan’s room, right?

And neither would you if it depended on Hyunjin.

The attempts to swipe the papers in your direction and gather everything you needed ─ to finally get rid of Hyunjin ─ proved to be vain as his hand took root on the desk. You pursed your lips in annoyance while glancing at his prominent knuckles and slender fingers; wondering if he would be so collected if he knew you wanted to crunch them. Probably not. But he gets off so fucking much on upsetting you that he might just want to take the risk anyway.

“What do you want, asshole?” You hissed; stopping your motions before turning around to stare blankly at him.

The face of an angel was the most accurate way to describe the sight in front of you. Plump, pink lips molded into a sweet smile and dark brown eyes morphed into cute crescents. None of those features fit his true self, though. Underneath the angelic façade, there was a demon called Hwang Hyunjin ─ who was resting his free hand on your shoulder for no reason besides driving you crazy.

It would be easier if he was just a pretty face, but Hyunjin had a good body too. The guy looked just like a model ─ slim, tall, and classy ─, and even though only his collarbones peeked out from down his shirt, you knew that there was much more than the eyes could see.

Well, you never saw it, but you had felt it.

As far as you could remember, each curve on Hyunjin’s abs was craft by God himself. The way his chest was built for you to caress would be forever craved on your mind. You might never forget how soft his lips were in contrast to his lap… How his thighs flexed just right when you pulled his hair… How reactive he was… How his moans sounded… And how he put everything to waste.

“Oh, nothing” He shrugged. As usual, his voice was just like sweet, hot honey; still, you could wipe the poison dripping down his chin, “I was just wondering if you had enough time to do your job while fucking your boss inside your head” He clarified sarcastically, cracking you a smile.

Sometimes you regretted not putting his mouth to good use… He really needed to learn how to shut up for a while and stop being so… Unbearable. The silence he met had him scoffing; body leaning even closer to the point his face was practically hovering over yours ─ smugness plastered all over it. You held his gaze to confront him; breathe mingling with his in a heated mix that matched the anger under your eyes.

Was he licking his lips as he stared at yours? Oh boy… He definitely wanted to get laid. It was your time to scoff as the frown on your lips turned into a smirk; eyes twinkling mischievously as you looked into his in a silent teasing. As if sensing that he was in trouble, Hyunjin tilted his head to look even more obnoxious than he was; face coming closer to yours to defy your newfound confidence.

“You know what? If you stared at him any longer, I think his balls might have fallen off…” He whispered in a tone loud enough for just you to hear “Unless he saw the way you were looking at him… Then I guess his dick would go straight up” He assured you with a ‘friendly’ pat on your shoulder as he finally let go of your papers and straightened his back.

“Are you saying it from experience?” You sneered; grimacing at him.

“Are you telling me that you want me to fuck you too?” He retorted gibingly; not even thinking twice about it.

“No” You tilted your head, trying to stay composed, “I’m reminding you that you couldn’t even kiss me without getting a boner… Just like a teenage boy” He arched a brow at your statement; pursing his lips as he hummed in wonder “I’m surprised you never came in your pants like the pathetic thing you are” He laughed; poking his cheek with his tongue before squeezing your shoulder in a silent warning.

“I must have been quite a sight if you can remember it so vividly” You pretended not to notice the way he sniggered, pushing away the urge to punch his face.

Nemesis was just a classy way to call him a pain in the ass.

Rule Number Three: The (plain and uninteresting) secret identity!

It would be impossible to miss the moment Hyunjin’s devilish smirk morphed into a bright, friendly smile. The snarky comment on the tip of your tongue was swallowed back in a bit; grimace dissolving into a wide grin as if you weren’t about to throw your fists at him. He giggled as his arms spread open before snaking around your body to pull you into a tight hug; holding you close and rocking your body side to side as a soft huff fell from your lips.

If you didn’t know any better, your knee would be buried between his legs.

“Way to go, Y/N!” He chirped, loosening his grip to take a better look at your face; eyes smiling as if the both of you were the bestest of friends in the entire world, “You’re awesome! I’m so proud… I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you as my teammate” He pursed his lips; dimples showing as he offered you nothing but affection in his gaze.

You did know better, though, and it wasn’t too hard to figure out who was standing behind your back as you opened your mouth to answer him: “There’s no one I’d rather be with!” You reassured Hyunjin in a sweet, mirthful tone; tilting your head to return the fondness in his look in an act worthy of an Oscar “We’re a team, you know? You can’t get rid of me so easily” He laughed wholeheartedly at that; ruffling your hair before leaning closer to you again, resuming the hug.

“We’ll see about that” He whispered in your ear, making you scoff.

“What are you gonna do? Cry to Daddy so you won’t work with me anymore?” You hissed back; breaking away from his hug with a tight grin before turning around to meet Chan’s gaze.

The surprise plastered over your face was millimetrically calculated; just like the way you pretended to be flustered as you stared into your boss’ eyes to see the pride shining on them. You brought the papers closer to your chest in what was meant to be an innocent, coy way ─ a technique mastered over the months you worked for him ─, and Chan seemed to fall for it as he giggled in delight. The poor guy had no clue all of this was as fake as your camaraderie towards Hyunjin, and he wasn’t about to discover it anytime soon if it depended on you.

Luckily, it did! You had taken some acting classes; just enough for your next words to be naturally convincing: “I’m so sorry, Sir! We’re just so happy that –” The words were deliberately drawled to give him enough time to interrupt you. Just like you knew he would. And it was a good thing that he did because you had no idea of how you were supposed to finish that sentence anyway.

You were a good actress, not a professional improviser.

“Don’t mention it” He cut you off giggly; detaching himself from the doorframe he leaned on as he watched the friendly scene taking place.

The amount of cuteness this man could deliver in his smile wasn’t fair, and it didn’t match the sensuality a simple gesture of his overflowed with, enchanting you. You gulped down as he gave both of you a silent order to follow him into his room, wondering if the duality he had in the office was remotely similar to what he could do in bed ─ a thought that shouldn’t be having a place in your mind right now.

Hyunjin seemed to pick up on it pretty quickly too, and as soon as Chan turned around to head to his office, he bumped his shoulder onto yours. The obnoxious action was followed by your elbow diving into his ribs; a retaliation that took you less than a second and, luckily, Chan ─ or any of your coworkers ─ didn’t seem to notice. Neither of you gave away your silent quarrel as Hyunjin closed the door behind him, smiling at you when Chan finally took his seat.

“It’s good to see that you guys have such chemistry” He confessed, and you had to suppress a scoff when you looked into his eyes. He had no idea… The chemistry between you two was enough to make you want to blow each other, “You know what I always say, right?” He boasted on a sing-song; much more at ease than he seemed to be earlier.

You weren’t about to put that on the line, though.

“You can’t have teamwork if you don’t have a team!” You warbled in unison.

“That’s the spirit!” Chan gurgled, heading to his desk in a visibly good mood.

What was going on? He wouldn’t be so happy just because you and Hyunjin were being friendly… Were you missing something? He didn’t seem in such a peaceful state of mind when he came in… It had to be something that happened after that. Perhaps he got some good news from his secretary? Or maybe… You narrowed your eyes as you caught a glimpse of Hyunjin’s hands fidgeting in front of him; his foot tapping the ground rapidly but quietly before moving slightly to step on your toe.

Or maybe Hyunjin had something to do with it…

“As I said in the email, Sir, I happened to hear some stuff around and… KQ managed to get an exclusive with Han Jisung” The sentence sounded just like a normal introduction to a report, but you knew it wasn’t. Hyunjin’s eyes darted to meet yours, glinting with anxiety and despair. He was informing you of what was going on, not Chan, “And as we all know, Jisung is a rising producer star, which is bound to raise their sales and might get in the way of ours…” He continued, swallowing dryly and widening his eyes ever so slightly.

He was definitely trying to warn you of something.

“Yes, I read the e-mail, Hyunjin” Chan agreed sternly; smile disappearing as his fingers intertwined to serve as a support for his chin. He looked classy and incredibly sexy, but your mind couldn’t afford to focus on it right now. You had to figure out what the hell Hyunjin suggested to Chan before blowing everything up, “You also said that Y/N might have the solution for this…” Oh, so that was it, you thought when Chan arched his brow; eyes connecting to yours.

And now what?

“So?” He encouraged you, detaching his chin from his hands so he could rest them on his desk “I’m waiting” He smiled gently; a closed-mouth smile that was supposed to calm your nerves, even though you could see how tumultuous his gaze was right now.

It was practically a silent threat.

In a normal situation, the predatory way he was looking at you ─ resembling a wolf when you were nothing but a sheep under his radar ─ would get you… Thinking.

Your job wouldn’t be at stake in a normal situation, though.

The pressure on your toes increased; the subtle way Hyunjin found to snap you out of your mind, despite your silence hanging in there for just a few seconds. It was obvious that he was freaking out just as much as you were, and you couldn’t help but blame him for this. Couldn’t he have told you about it earlier? What the hell was going on inside his mind?! Instead of taunting you about wanting to fuck Bang Chan, he should have warned you about that shit!

That’s not the time for this, Y/N.

The muscles on your face tensed as you tried to not give away everything going through your mind; lips twisting in a tight smile as you looked at Hyunjin: “Yeah, he was right” You answered calmly, even though your stomach was settled on becoming an Olympic athlete right now, “As I was telling him before coming here, Sir, I have someone in mind…” The relief washed over Hyunjin’s face; a genuine smile adorning his features as he withheld a sigh, “I happen to know I.N, and I think I can get us an exclusive” You confessed, shifting your gaze from Hyunjin to Chan.

“The writer?” He blurted out, astonishment plastered all over his face.

“Yeah… They’re a friend of mine…” You trailed off, embarrassed to say it out loud “They’re in the top trending now since their novel will become a drama and…” You cleared your throat, lowering your head to avoid his gaze. There was just so much of acting you could handle for a day, “I mean- It’s… Adult stuff, right? But they never—”

“I know! That’s perfect!” He beamed, getting up from his chair to walk your way “They’ve never been seen! Nobody knows anything about them, Y/N” He laughed ─ he genuinely laughed ─ while clasping his hands together “Han Jisung is good, but I.N is better! This is hot news… FrontPage… How come you never told me about that?” He chuckled, placing his hand on your shoulder “Rest assured that when I get my promotion, I’m gonna have you right here in this room” He promised you in such a serious tone that a shiver ran down your spine.

Rule Number Four: The (kinda horny) true self!

There was not a single soul in the office as you made your way down the hall; eyes focused on the mesmerizing view outside. The sky was colored in purple shades, so deep that you would have mistaken them for black if it weren’t for the dazzling, sleepless city and its dozens of skyscrapers lighting everything up. Not even the full moon would be able to compete with such a beautiful brilliance, but it wouldn’t be necessary either as your gaze was abruptly torn away from the night.

The darkness surrounding you didn’t allow your brain to connect the dots immediately, and you couldn’t help but wonder what happened when you bumped into something. The surface was much softer than a wall, yet firm enough to have you wincing for the impact; eyes snapping to meet the unlucky bastard that stayed until so late. The moonlight kissed his skin just enough for you to recognize the sharp features of your boss; clenched jaw revealing popping veins that distracted you for a fraction of a second.

Your eyes trailed the path from his jaw to his neck, and you couldn’t help but wonder how it tasted like; if you could savor it like the sins you wanted to commit with him. The closeness didn’t work in your favor, and the hint of his scent intoxicated your senses as you connected your gazes. Something must have given you off ─ maybe your hesitation, maybe the lust glinting in your eyes ─ because the next second, Cristopher had his hand placed on your lower back.

The warm sensation grew to a burning feeling as his eyes darkened while diving into yours; his stern, cold gaze contrasting to the feeling of his touch and sending a shiver down your spine. Could he have noticed the way your legs trembled as his grip tightened around you? The look on his face was indecipherable, and the intensity of his gaze made you feel too exposed and vulnerable to keep looking for an answer, so you averted your eyes away from him.

“Weren’t you supposed to come as soon as you got his answer?” The way his voice made its way to your senses had the embarrassment washing over you. The huskiness in his tone made you gulp down ─ throat dry from thirsting over him ─ and the calmness in his sentence alarmed you as it didn’t match the disapproval in his eyes “It’s so late that there is no one else here anymore” He added nonchalantly; mixed signals getting you confused to what he meant by it.

Was it just a way to scold you or was it an invitation?

“I’m sorry, Sir” Despite not having anyone around, you whispered the words as if you could be caught at any moment now, “It took me longer than expected, but we—”

“We?” His eyes were sharp enough to cut you off but the real reason why you couldn’t manage to finish your thoughts was the way he pulled your body impossibly closer to his “Were you with him this whole time?” He hissed right into your ear, letting his hot breath fan over your cold, sensitive skin in a silent threat.

“Working” You corrected, even though he didn’t say anything.

“Working” He hummed in agreement; hand going to tuck your hair behind your ear “As in how we work late at night?” He sneered, manhandling you to press your back against the cold surface of the glass wall that separated his office from the rest of the place “Or is it as in how he wants to work you on his desk?” He scoffed; soft huff almost as degrading as the way he held your cheeks with one hand and guided your eyes to his.

“Neither” You guaranteed breathlessly; voice quivering in excitement.

“Are you going to pretend that you didn’t notice his looks?” He narrowed his eyes at you; his knee making its way to the gap between yours before slowly rising to your thighs, “That you don’t know how much he wants to fuck you?” He laughed humorlessly, shaking his head in disbelief, “You better not, ‘cause I know you love it” He warned as he kicked your legs apart.

“He could never fuck me as you do” There was such seriousness in your tone that it had him chuckling, and he nodded in approval before burying his nose in your neck, “I-I’m yours only, Sir… I know my place” You promised quietly, trying not to give away how aroused his jealousy made you feel.

“Yeah…” His raspy laughter tickled your skin, and you muffled a whine as he grazed his teeth over your neck teasingly “But you like being reminded of it, don’t you?” He taunted, taking in your scent in a way that made you feel too small and helpless. He groaned as soon as you let a whimper fall from your lips, and you couldn’t help but struggle to stay still while knowing what was about to come, “Do I have to spell it for you, baby girl?” He snickered before sucking on the tender spot of your skin that he knew too well at this point.

“N-No” Somewhere inside your head, you acknowledged that your reaction was insanely humiliating. He just needed a couple of words spoken in a sultry tone and you couldn’t even form a proper sentence. That was the power he had on you. And you loved it. “Only yours” The rushed tone made him smirk against your neck, stopping his path of kisses for a second to look into your eyes “Sir” You panted; returning his gaze with just as much intensity as he had on his.

“Claim your place” His order was so tantalizing that you didn’t even blink before you finally let your knees give away, losing the support of your legs to earn the support of his thigh, “That’s right… You do remember your place” Somehow, this sounded like the best praise he could ever offer you, even under his amused tone, “But you have been such a bad girl lately…” He pouted as he caressed your cheek; hand stopping to grab your chin gently “And I don’t like bad girls… You know that, right?” He let his thumb reach for your lower lip, fiercely staring at it before grazing his finger on your teeth.

Your answer was as silent as his request; tongue welcoming his thumb before you sucked on his digit. He hummed in appreciation, pushing it inside your mouth as you looked at him with big doe eyes to show a coyness that wasn’t really there within you. The action was followed by a swirl around the tip of his finger; as if to leave in his mouth the taste of what he was missing and prompt him to give you what you really wanted: Him.

If he picked up on your plans, he showed it by giving like for like.

He didn’t say a word as he pressed his thigh against your heat; leaning closer to let his breath fan over your neck once more. He stood like that for what could have been seconds, maybe minutes, but nonetheless time enough for his warmth to creep into your senses. He was like a poison to you; the intoxicating presence clouding your better judgment and destroying any will you had to have him losing control. You didn’t even mind the way he scoffed as you started to grind his leg; brows twisting to shout out a needy plea for release.

“That’s a good girl” He approved, catching your earlobe between his teeth. The moan that fell from your lips was muffled by his finger and he didn’t seem to appreciate it, “I don’t hear you, baby girl” He complained, moving on to your jaw with a path of open-mouthed kisses that weren’t enough to distract you from his other hand “There’s no one here… Be loud for me” He allured you as his hand found its way under your shirt.

The temptation was great… Scream his name as he fucked you senseless in the office... No risk of being caught… Just you, and him, and your dirty little secret…

Your thoughts were all around the place, and you had no hopes of grasping them back as his cold hand brushed your side, contrasting to the warmth under your clothes. The way he touched you made shivers run down your spine; his slow, delicate motion enhancing your senses to every single second of his caresses. You held your breath when his finger finally managed to reach its destination; grazing over your nipple to have you succumbing to his wishes.

You fought it as you could, but you were never much of a fighter.

It was too easy for him to have you under his control, and he knew it. You could tell it by the way he chuckled as soon as you gave away how lost you were at this point. The moan that left your lips came all the way up from your chest, sounding crystal clear in the room as you let your mouth fall agape. Sucking on his finger and following his orders were the last concern you would have for this moment. The only thing worthy of your attention right now was the fact that you couldn’t get as much friction as you needed, and you had to do something about it.

So you grind on his leg for dear life.

“You’re so needy” The mockery didn’t have much effect on your mind anymore, so you just kept sliding up and down his thigh as if that was the only thing that could keep you going “You’re not even listening to me, are you?” He huffed in disbelief; thumb leaving your mouth so he could cup your face “That’s all you can understand, right?” He taunted, pinching your nipple to get your attention again, “Are you still there, baby girl?” He leaned closer to whisper in your ear.

“F-Fuck me” Was the only answer he would get.

“Manners” He warned; licking the sweet spot next to your jaw.

“Fuck me, Sir” You corrected yourself; wrapping your arms around his shoulders to look for some support as you practically bounced on his leg, “Please, fuck me, Sir” You repeated, forehead resting on the crook of his neck as you clawed his back, trying to bring him as close as possible to you.

“Louder” He demanded, and you didn’t need to look at his face to know that he was grinning, “Louder…” He instructed in a tone so low that you could barely hear him over the rustling sounds of fabric against fabric. Your breath hitched as his hand gently caressed your hair; moving some strands away from your face to take a better look at you. However, he didn’t get to see your teary eyes, “Come on, baby… Look at me” He asked in a tantalizing tone, alluring you to try and meet his gaze.

There wasn’t much you could see through your hooded eyes; vision too blurry for you to grasp what was going on inside his mind. You could tell he enjoyed it, though. He always did. That moment when he could pinpoint you had given up on your control, that you weren’t yourself anymore and would be willing to do whatever he asked… He lived for it, for that rebellious flame of self-control extinguishing from your eyes.

For who you become when lust overcomes you.

The grip on his hair wasn’t unexpected, and Cristopher offered you a small, wicked smile before you connected your lips. The kiss was messy and hurried; tongues exploring every corner they could find while your hands were occupied on getting rid of your clothes. Neither of you cared about anything else but feeling each other’s bodies as you ripped your shirts. The cold breeze hitting your bare skin wasn’t enough to cool down the heat consuming you, but it was enough to have you squirming and whining.

“Beautiful” Was the only thing he said before pushing your back against the glass and adjusting his grip to take your nipple between his teeth. The groan that escaped your lips was almost animalistic, prompting him to answer with a grunt of his own as he sucked on your skin. The vibrations ran from your flesh to your core, enticing another moan that seemed to fall into deaf ears, “Louder, baby… I want him to hear you…” He pleaded, letting go of your breast just to grope it and give you a kitten lick on the next second “To know who made you like this…” He added before sucking on it again.

Perhaps it was the fact that he thrust on you, just to tease your senses and make you thirstier. Perhaps it was the fact you had to support yourself on just one leg as he pushed his hips against yours and you tried to seek for your balance by involving his leg with yours. Perhaps it was his hand sliding to meet your clothed core; finger pressing against your clit to add a delicious, needed stimulus for your orgasm.

Perhaps it was the words that slipped through his lips.

“W-What did you say?” You panted; hips faltering as you tried to keep riding him, but steading their pace as his finger circled your clit to goad you “M-Mhm… S-Sir” You cried; hand burying in his hair to pull it and translate the utter bliss waving down your body. The string of mewls and urgent pleas spilled from you like a chant, getting him more eager than before, “P-Please” You whined, even though you weren’t sure what you were asking for.

“Hold it” He ordered; straightening his back to look right into your eyes, but failing as yours rolled back to your head. His hand made its way to squeeze your cheeks, forcing you to look at him with a soft shake to catch your attention “Look at me” It sounded like a warning; stern enough for you to try your best to focus on him, “You’ll only cum when he walks right through that door… Do you understand?” He searched for any signs of stubbornness in your eyes, but his smile showed he didn’t found any.

“W-Who?” You managed to ask; body trembling as you tried to hold every single string inside your mind in place, even though each one of them was ready to snap and unravel the crashing pleasure that was building up.

“Why does it matter?” He scoffed, quickening his pace as the unmistakable ring of the elevator sounded on the room “You love being seen, don’t you?” He chuckled, watching as your body shook violently and your knees started to give away to the sensations running down your body.

“Y-Yes, Sir” You could bet your voice echoed inside the building, and Christopher seemed to agree with you as he grinned in approval.

“So look at your guest, baby… And scream my name” He instructed, pushing your face to the side. The doors opened slowly, revealing the lights inside the small cubicle right in front of your eyes “Let him know who you belong to” He whispered in your ear; hand pushing your underwear aside so his finger could come in contact with your core.

The mysterious figure detached from the corners of the metallic walls to finally reveal himself. You met his eyes for a half of a second; enough time for you to recognize the one who worked with you every single day of your life. For the past few years. Someone who would be your partner for years to come, and who would witness and engrave your face in your most vulnerable moment.

You came hard; probably the most overwhelming orgasm you had ever had in your life. It was impossible to hold back your voice, and you couldn’t help but howl his name; legs shaking and body collapsing into your boss’ arms. You squirmed and whimpered as you tried to recompose yourself; letting him help you ride you out of your orgasm and occupying yourself by staring into your coworker’s shocked eyes.

“Thank you, Sir…” You breathed out, gripping his arms for dear life while the shame sank into your soul.

Rule Number Five: The (grateful and satisfied) fans!

And… Post.

Oh, well… You did it. Again. There was something about displaying your deepest fantasies for anyone to see that was kinda thrilling to you. Your heart raced inside your chest just like a drum ─ well, if a goddamn drummer decided to do a solo but was too offbeat, to begin with ─ and you couldn’t help but stare blankly at the page without a clue of what to do now. It was out there… Why didn’t anyone say anything yet? Was it that bad? Should you delete it?

Well… People have to read it before commenting, you know?

Yeah, right… You just posted it.

Chill.

You licked your lips before biting them; feeling the rush that was posting about your boss online when no one else knew about it. If you were being honest, the best part of this wasn’t having the chance to live your fantasies throughout your writing. No. The best part was knowing that only you knew the true identity of Christopher… Or what you really wanted to do to him while he walked down the hallway. The best part was that no one would ever figure out that you were the author of the bestselling novel of the moment… That this steamy romance between boss and employee was nothing but your rawest desire.

Who would think that the boring, shy girl from the office would be a smut writer? Who would think that you would have a horny, interesting secret identity? No one else but you.

And this was priceless.

Or maybe… It was priceless.

As far as you knew, every single thing you cherished about being a secretive horny bitch could go down the drain tomorrow. It would be all fine if it was just a… Well, actually everything would suck. How would you look at Chan’s face if he knew you were writing about having sex with your boss while he was your boss? What would you do if they decided to fire you because of it? What would you do with your life from now on?!

Don’t panic, Y/N.

You had everything under control… Tomorrow morning you would be going to Jeongin’s house and interview him as if he were you. No one would ever suspect you after that. You would save your ass, Hyunjin’s ass, and Chan’s ass. And that was it. The perfect plan. Nothing to worry about. Just trust Jeongin to follow your script and make sure everything would go as planned.

Flawless. Totally safe. Perfect.

That’s right…

You just need to take a deep breath and rela—

The sudden sound caught you off guard; eyes focusing on the screen once again so you could understand what was going on. All of your worries vanished away as soon as you saw the notification on the top of it; announcing that you had just got a message from a fan.

Finally!

The weasel icon was so familiar that you chuckled while opening the message; a smile plastering over your face as you let your eyes wander around the words. There was nothing more fulfilling to your writer ass than seeing the way Weasel always had something to say about your story. Sometimes, he’d give you some feedback on your style. Other times, he’d freak out about how much he wanted to “try those things out”, as he usually said. There were also times when he’d just get excited over the characters and their conflicts, which always got you laughing.

It was fun to talk to Weasel.

He was just as mysterious as you… There was no name to his face, and also no face to his icon, but both of you were friends anyway. He had been keeping up with your stuff from such an early stage that it felt natural to have him around and getting his feedback. It was so comfortable, that you didn’t even mind when he slid in your DMs, embarrassed to let anyone else know that your smut made him… Feel things. There was no need to elaborate on what he did about those feelings or those things. But it was kinda hot to know he enjoyed himself throughout your fantasies.

His fantasies.

Well… For the number of times that you used them to write your stories, it was some sort of shared fantasies by now. As a matter of fact, you never intended to make Christopher a jealous character but Weasel made the idea seem too hot for you to ignore. Sometimes, he’d open up about that girl from his work that he really liked and how jealous he was of the guy she liked and then… Well, it felt… Interesting.

The thought of being desirable to the point a guy would want to claim you as his like this? Not that Weasel did it. He actually just mentioned that he hoped she was into this as a kink. You couldn’t help but picture the way he would touch her in such a greedy way… The possessiveness blinding him for a second… The grip tightening… The mean words and the humiliation… Oh, the sweet humiliation that would crush you as he whispered how much you would cum for him… How he was the only one who could make you like that… How he would ask you to say his name… To tell him that you were his…

You could drink holy water and still be shaking just by picturing it.

“That was such a good chapter… I didn’t expect you to use her friend like that. I thought it was a given that she’d end up with Chris” You read out loud, chuckling when he reached for your DMs to talk to you “Will we get a threesome or something, miss? 😏” He joked on the next line and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at this “I’m waiting for it”

“You’re just a horny bitch, aren’t you?” You typed, smirking as you stared at his messages “No spoilers for you, though, baby boy… You’ll have to wait like everybody else” Teasing him was always funny, and he never failed to amuse you.

“I’m not the one writing porn online” He pointed out, and before he could write anything else you shot him.

“Yeah but you’re the one getting off to it” You retorted, getting a whole set of gasping and shocked emotes that had you laughing.

“I have no words to express how offended I am” You chortled, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Alright, Drama Llama” Why was it so fun to mock him? You wished you could actually meet him offline and banter like this in real life “To fill your horny ass, I might write a dom!reader next time… I was thinking about torturing the 2nd lead a bit”

“First of all… I don’t think I want my ass filled, thank you for offering tho” Why was he like this? “And I was just joking” You frowned at that, confused by what he meant “Don’t you think that a threesome doesn’t go along with the characters? Her friend likes her a lot and Christopher is just a kinky son of a bitch… I thought he’d just show him that she was his and be an ass as usual”

“What do you have against Chris, dude?” You rolled your eyes, although he wouldn’t be able to see it, “He’s way better than her friend! At least, he does something about her”

“I have the 2nd male lead syndrome! You know that!” You chortled, very aware of this, “And isn’t that the perfect opportunity for him to do something about it?! I mean… I don’t want to be nosey but having a threesome is way out of character for them” He pointed out, and you had to admit he was right.

“No, you’re not nosey…” You sighed; shoulders dropping for a second “It’s just that I’m upset about something that happened at work today and you know that projecting my problems on those characters is my thing” You pursed your lips, staring at the keyboard for a few seconds before deciding to continue “Besides, I’m about to spend an entire day with a guy that kinda inspired the 2nd lead and… I don’t really want to think about a sex scene with him, you know?” You confessed.

“But thinking about torturing and having a threesome with him is easy” He mocked you.

“That’s because that threesome would never happen” You sent it before you could think about what you had just written.

“Ooohhhh!” Holy shit… The amount of emotes he had just dumped on that chat couldn’t be a good sign, “So having sex with this guy is something you want?! And that could happen?! ” Great, now you would have a Drama Llama-Weasel trying to get some juicy gossip about your inexistent sex life… WORSE! Your sex life with your nemesis! “Why don’t you go for it? I’m sure he’s into you if he’s anything like his character” Poor thing… He had no idea.

“Shut up, it’s not like that” You brushed it off.

“If you say so” You could almost hear him snickering, even though you didn’t know how his voice sounded like “I’ll just have you regretting this for the rest of the night” You snorted, shaking your head in disbelief. He was unbearable! “I have work early tomorrow but I’m gonna come back with questions, Miss… Wait for me”

“What I meant is that it’d be easier to happen than having a threesome, not that I want it to happen, moron” You defended yourself but he didn’t even get to read it as he logged off right away.

Great… He would never let you live it down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rebloggable Masterlist // Main Masterlist // Tag List

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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malleablemindrotting · 2 years ago

Text

kuroken domestic life genderbent headcanons i have. pt1

Assuming that they get past all that dutiful “my childhood friend i don’t wanna ruin this relationship” complex, and the endless pining. they probably move in together with ROMANTIC INTENT. but id like to differentiate what i believe to be domestic life before romantic intent and after. bc we all know damn well they’d probably be “just roomates” before getting their heads out of their asses and admitting to sickening love.

JUST ROOMATES:

in regards to clothes

kenma would sneak into kuroos room with the gal pal excuse of borrowing some comfy clothes w/the excuse of being too lazy to do laundry but she obv just wanted kuroos lovely perfume scent (they already use the same detergent)

kuroo is designated laundry doer in the house bc kenma doesn’t like folding. takes too much time. and she always forgets the clothes r in the dryer so they get wrinkly unless kuroo remembered. so that task was passed off to her! but to the point: kuroo likes to wash their clothes together not only to save time and money or wtv, but bc she likes the idea of them smelling the same.

when either of them had their periods, they prob had bad, but different symptoms

kenma had the migraines. the bad headaches. which sucked!!! bc her video games and streaming. but kuroo sees it EVERY TIME as the opportunity for her bestie to get some needed rest. she always worried but in this time she knows kenma can’t refuse sleep or no screen time— she’s in too much pain to have much of a choice rlly. so kuroo always cooks and brings her water and painkillers makes sure kenmas room is rlly dark or dimly lit. also. she thinks kenma is rlly cute when she’s so needy and sorta useless. bc kenma is usually so stubbornly independent— DESPITE kuroos best efforts to just take care of her.

kuroo has CRAMPS. rlly bad ones. she hates it bc she can’t move around like she so very much enjoys. and cramps r a bitch. she also gets rlly bad food cravings. kenma isn’t as diligent as kuroo is in assuming a caretaker role. but she knows kuroo hates the periods of cramping. so she buys her the best heat pads and chocolates and fastest delivery service her streaming riches can buy. she spoils kuroo so MUCH. and she chalks it all up to “you’re my best friend you deserve the best”

but in reality they just rlly wanna cuddle their way thru it all. the most they can do without gay panic tho is watching each other with fond smiles as the other sleeps. and brushing away hair out of each others faces bc they’re too tired to do such simple things when in such period pain.

plus both r really diligent in taking care of the others like… self care routines. bc with these periods putting them out of commission. they need the help. kuroo is diligent in brushing kenmas hair out and applying chapstick to her chapped, picked lips. while kenma will rub lotion into kuroos calloused hands. both from old volleyball days, and from JVA paperwork paper cuts. also kenma has bought kuroo a silk pillowcase in attempts of bringing down the bed head. it did not work.

grocery shopping

kuroo forces kenma to go grocery shopping with her. and not bc she wants her to like get out of the house or wtv, but bc she thinks it’s funny when kenma sees something new she’ll want to try. here’s what happens. kenma always picks it up, her eyes widen in interest, and she pauses, squinting at the item, before placing it back down. even tho kenma makes RICHES. she’s kinda stingy on spending for herself. she just doesn’t see the point unless it’s like a video game. simple things like new snacks don’t rlly matter to her. so she always puts it back bc it’s not worth trying something she might not like. kuroo always picks it up and puts it in the shopping cart after.

cooking

contrary to a lot of content i’ve seen. i think kenma probably does know how to cook. she just doesn’t ENJOY cooking. it’s inconvenient. oil splatters, the clean up, the prep.. she knows she needs to be fed and before she got bank she needed to keep herself fed somehow. and she got bored of instant shit all the time. so she learned to cook certain dishes. but after her and kuroo moved in together, kuroo started doing some cooking too. like lots of roomates, they’d cook together or split the week up in who would take what day for meal responsibilities.

kenma always thought kuroo looked unnecessarily attractive when she had her apron on and her sleeves rolled up. she looked like she could be a wife. which is THE real reason she tried to make kuroo cook more. not bc she couldn’t cook.

meanwhile kuroo just liked the idea of providing for kenma and felt happy knowing her best friend could sit there and not be anxious over any food. (in my head, kenma actually has some severe food allergies. and having to ask in public restaurants abt cross contamination is exhausting so cooking at home is honestly easier)

watching movies (bc who hasn’t had movie nights with their bestie)

both NEVER volunteer their beds to watch movies on. they always both go for the couch bc they know if they fell asleep on the bed both would gay panic past their lifespan. even though growing up they always had sleepovers on the same bed.

so the couch is always default. the issue is that they always share a blanket. and they always sit close. hip to hip, thigh to thigh. that’s not an issue for best friends. but they’re best friends who r in love. so every time they watch a movie there are painstaking moments of stolen glances in the tv light.

kuroos laugh is obnoxious. so even though kenma doesn’t usually put on comedy, she would go thru it bc she likes watching kuroo laugh. it’s contagious.

and while kuroo typically won’t put on the deepened plot complicated movies. she’ll sit thru them to listen to kenma list off her theories. and to steal glances at her eyes widening and squinting in assessment and analysis of the plot.

they have yet to cuddle at all. with kenmas physical touch barriers it’s just not something she’ll ask for. and kuroos too nervous to ask for platonic (it’s secretly romance driven) cuddles. bc all besties like cuddling during movies. but kuroo won’t cross that boundary if kenma won’t ask for it. and tbh it just hasn’t crossed kenmas mind bc her head hitting kuroos defined bicep during movie nights is enough physical gay panic.

#kuroken #haikyuu!!#hq kuroo #kuroo headcanons #kuroo tetsurou #kenma kuzome #kenma headcanons #kuroken headcanons #wlw #genderbend #domestic #fluff #besties #roomates #headcanon #haikyuu headcanons #gay #women #i’m gay

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enhypia · 3 years ago

Text

JS ; exes

exes answers questions with the choice of drinking instead of answering

pairings: park jongseong x gn!reader

genre: angst, mild fluff

words: roughly 1.7k

masterlist ⸺ series masterlist

~guides and warnings~

italics - reader speaking

bold - jay speaking

[enclosed] - interviewer speaking

italicized bold - both reader and jay speaking

[enclosed bold or italics] - question (depends on who's speaking)

heavily inspired by: rec.create lie detector games, cut truth or drink

warning: contains and mentions of !!! drinking, swearing, neglect, breaking up

i don't promote underage drinking, save your livers

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

hello, i'm (y/n)

and i'm jay

we're (awkward eye contact)

uhh we're exes

[you guys were invited here today as exes for a fun little drinking game, you guys were aware of that right?]

yes

yup

*interviewer shuffles awkwardly

sorry it's just, our friends were the ones who signed up for us

yeah, we just found out about it three days ago

[but are you guys still okay with doing this?]

we're okay

just give us a few minutes to get used to environment

*(y/n) chuckles

[okay, for this game, questions will be asked and if you refuse to answer, you drink, it's that simple. are you guys ready? should we start?]

*jay nods

ready as i'll ever be

[how long were you guys together?]

we were together for almost 3 years

[how long have you guys been broken up?]

about a year and a half now

[who broke up with who?]

i did they did

[why did you break up with him?]

so this was all a year and a half ago okay? no coming for jay, he's grown, we've grown

thanks?

you're welcome

*jay laughs

uhh.. it just really reached a point where i felt neglected in a way? and it was just tiring? i kept thinking 'do i deserve this treatment?' and i hated that i was doubting everything, including his feelings. so i just said let's talk about it and then yeah we split up

*jay drinks and (y/n) laughs

sorry sorry

nah i just needed that

[okay, how about we officially start the q&a portion between the of you now?]

*both nod and played rock paper and scissors to determine who gets to ask first, jay wins

*he picks up a card and facepalms after seeing the question

goddamn

should i be scared?

not sure, but you might opt to drink though

[do you blame me for what happened to us?]

oh my god *(y/n) laughs

i know right

so we're unpacking emotions today? okay noted

you can just drink if you're not comfortable with it

i'll drink but i'll still answer, might ease your mind no?

*jay couldn't stop his head from nodding

*(y/n) drinks

i admit that i blamed you at first, but then i got to thinking that it wasn't just you, i was also at fault too since i never really vocalized what i felt? i just let it build up until it reached the point where you couldn't do anything about it anymore, and i couldn't too.

yeah but it's more of my fault since i felt something was wrong but i just brushed it off, i brushed you off.

....

shot?

*jay smiles slightly and both raised their glasses to cheers before drinking

we were both at fault and i don't blame you, jay. i hope you stop blaming yourself

*(y/n) smiles softly then picks up a card to stop any reply they might get from jay

god why are these questions so heavy? it wasn't like this from other episodes

*jay and crew laugh

okay, hit me

[what's your biggest regret about our relationship?]

what the fuck

SEE ?!

*both laugh and jay drinks

okay, next question

no, i'm answering

[we won't stop you but just reminding you both that it's okay not to answer if you drink]

the alcohol releases the unhinged-ness

in other words, this is really just us using the alcohol to actually say what we feel

i think you already the answer, and it's that i didn't do anything about us even if i felt something was wrong. i just kept on focusing on my career that i reached a point where i brushed everything off as nothing. and in the end, while i got the success i wanted, somehow i also feel like i'm on the losing end really.

*(y/n) drinks making jay laugh

what? it's my first time hearing all this !

it was a rough break so

omg is this our closure ???

*jay's eyes widened

and it's filmed ?!?!

*everyone laughs

couple goals *(y/n) does a hashtag

oh wait *(y/n) looks at jay

exes goals *both do a hashtag pose

*they laugh, ignoring the sting in their hearts

okay, okay moving on

*jay laughs again

is it a heavy one again?

nope

[do your friends hate me?]

*(y/n) bursts out laughing

please 😭

we have the same friends

we share a lot of mutual friends

that's why there was like tension for a month in the friend group because no one knew what to do

i'm sorry you had to endure all that friends

remember when they literally made an organized schedule to hang out where we wouldn't see each since the break up was still fresh?

yeah like i got heeseung on tuesdays

and i got him on thursdays

😭😭😭

we love them though, they did their best to console us both

thanks guys <33

*(y/n) picks up a card

goddammit

[do you think we could've actually worked out our problems?]

i think it's unfair that i get a lot of heavy questions

i have the power of god and anime on my side today

i think we could've, if i just had taken the actual time to reflect and sit down and talk, we could've worked it out.

*(y/n) slaps jay's arm

i told you, stop blaming yourself

*(y/n) rolls their eyes

*jay picks up a card and

what?

*he is stuttering guys, he is fidgeting

[do you wish we were still together?]

yeah

.....

*both drink

i mean-

*jay has been paralyzed, he did not expect (y/n) to answer

i'm happy where i am right now, maybe there are moments of weakness that the thought crosses my mind but i don't dwell on it too much. i think we're both still learning and growing.

*jay doesn't want to think about the fact that (y/n) never said a clear yes or no

*(y/n) picks up a card and groans

please just drink to this

why?

[what do you think of me now?]

....

drink.

no?

why?

because-

why?

i'm answering

why?

i want to?

no.

right now i'm just really proud of you.

*WORLD PAUSE, (y/n) is malfunctioning

it's a little sad that i didn't get to witness a lot of it but i promise i watched from afar and i'm so proud of you. like it makes me feel lighter in a way? knowing that you're still going and pursuing your dreams. it just made me at ease that -

*(y/n) drinks, looking very much like snow white's apples

are you blushing?

jay i will kick you

*he laughs and pinches (y/n) cheeks making them redder, (y/n) slaps his hands away

i won't hesitate bitch

how about you huh?

[what do you think of me now?]

*jay you should know not to tease too much or else it'll bite you back

i think you're absolutely amazing.

*jay could only blame himself

i am in constant awe and there's this pride that i have in me whenever i see you thriving. it's weird because i thought i'd be bitter about it, but since i knew of your goals and how passionate you were, all i felt was pride. it did hurt a little that i couldn't go "that's my baby!" anymore.

*alert! jay's ears are red and it's spreading to his cheeks and neck

okay next question!

*he quickly picks up a card making (y/n) burst out laughing

everything i said was true though.

hajima. stop. pause. i'm not listening

*(y/n) laughs at flustered jay

this is the last one.

[question for both: if you could tell me anything, what would you say?]

sheesh

same

rock paper scissors? loser goes first

*jay wins

*(y/n) drinks

can you turn around for this one, like don't look at me.

*jay followed

i want to say that,,,, that it's not your fault for putting your future first. it kind of stung since you made me feel like i wasn't a part of it but i know that wasn't your intention. i understand your actions and i don't blame you. if i was in your position i probably would've been the same. i'm sorry that i didn't try harder, like you said we could've made it work but i just got so tired, i hope you can forgive me for that as well.

okay i'm turning around as well, your turn

*(y/n)'s eyes are glassy, but jay doesn't need to see that

i want to say that i'm sorry for neglecting you. i feel like you're tired of me saying sorry but that's really all i could do. i forgive you by the way even if i don't get why you're apologizing to me. i also want to say that, it wasn't you. it sounds cliche but you weren't the reason i became like that, it was me. it was never you. so please don't blame yourself for anything. please don't question your worth because you were more than enough.

yah i didn't want to unpack that

well i still know you and i was given the chance to say it now so

*(y/n) turns around wiping tears, jay is sniffling

i need a drink damn

*(y/n) pours a shot and jay as well, both drink after clinking their glasses

[you guys good?]

*both looks at each other and chuckles

we're good

i can't believe we have to thank our friends for setting this up

*jay groans

[care to answer one last question that is in everyone's minds' right now?]

oh god

is it what i think it is

[will we see you guys be featured again? maybe exes to couples again?]

let's drink!

*both take one last shot and waves to the camera

*(y/n) shrugs and jay winks

bye~

»————-　♡　————-«

bonus: youtube comments (peep last one)

masterlist ⸺ series masterlist

a/n: i was planning to post this sooner but my pharma prof suddenly dropped a 6-page activity lmao rip, im scheduling the timestamps i forgot to post last update sorry sorry. my angst skills are subpar forgive me but i tried my best. i hope you like this one too !! jake's will be uploaded next ! please look forward to it <33

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far-butter · 2 years ago

Note

@fthechantry Thank you for taking the time to reply. That's indeed surprising, and that's actually not the LIs I would have put my bets on! (and yeah I get the failed romance thing 😅)

In regards to what you said about Fenris and Blackwall, does it mean you play more as self-insert than roleplay/can't roleplay characters with values that are very different from yours? (that's all valid, it's just interesting to see how different people play the games and how many play styles these games actually allow)

I see what you mean with Josie and Alistair. They're cute when you want some fluff and that's definitely some people's jam, but it's not for everyone and not at every moment of your life. (though you CAN have intense psychological damages from Alistair's romance if you make bad decisions. Not that it happened to me or I'm salty or anything 🤡)

Sera's romance is very complicated if you don't want power play or abuse from one hand or the other. It sucks that their first lesbian character fits the toxic sapphic trope Bioware loves so much and you have to headcanon your way out of it so much, like with many DA2 LIs.

I refuse to believe anyone in the Circle is straight tbh (yay toxic representation with the Templars). He would've definitely been more interesting if he had been bi. He *ahem* needs to open up more. Kinda reminds me of Tali in ME2, who is very intense with femshep and they hug and then she goes "no homo tho" lmao that's cold. Maybe it's my chronic consumption of queer medias that give me a brainrot, but yea, I think you're good and he's indeed hitting on M!Inquisitor or having a small crush and then they cut it short because they didn't have the time to make him bi or something (funny how they always have the time to make their characters a straight option tho).

What happened with Solas that put you off and how come it didn't work with Bull, if I may ask? (I mean I definitely see how a certain Tevinter being around and stealing the spotlight doesn't help lol. We all have a bunch of characters we're Very Normal about)

Zev was like, the most unexpected character of the list tbh! I would've thought he would have caught your attention! Did you just got bored with him?

I like the mental image of the Warden trying to stealthily get out of Leli's grip and thinking she's completely insane, it's beautiful

The Isa approval fuckery definitely didn't happen to me last playthrough djfjfkf. Though there's a vibe about Hawke being dumped by their wife on front of everyone and divorced but nobody has done the legal papers and now you need a court order to get back the overpowered items you gave to her before she left

Based. There's a mod that fixes that on PC, thanks the Creators.

I'm a sucker for Hawke who have a very unsubtle and unrequited crush on Cullen. Garrett-dear likes Circle sandwiches and we stan. What is your HC about it? Did Hawke flirt with him? If so, how did Cullen react? How does Garrett react to Cullen in DAI (and the DAI companions, if you want to expand on it and still need some distraction)?

For all you know, when Anders in MotA talks about that fantasy, he actually meant he wanted *Cullen* to chain him and Garrett breaking in by the backdoor. He had it all planned, he said lol (fr though, I always thought Anders must have been seething and drowning in ptsd, seeing a templar from his former Circle. He can't outright reveal he's an apostate, but also man would totally be bitching behind his back and airing the shit out of Cullen's crush on Surana/Amell. I live for Anders being petty.)

Are there any LIs you never romanced in the DA franchise? If so why?

Also does any of your OC has a unrequited crush on a character?

Oh there are plenty @queer-amann, like a shocking amount considering how many times I have played these games. I am adding a 3rd option to this because there are quite a few that I have just... failed.

Never romanced:

Origins~

Alistair- I couldn't really tell you why except that maybe it is because I had already seen the romance? My roommate, and best friend, played the games first while I watched her. She is a strong Alistair-mancer and so I don't need to see it again? If that makes sense. Overall, I think his romance is cute, but boring.

DA2~

Fenris- I like his character arc. I think it is really interesting. I am very pro-mage though, so we clash on opinions a lot.

Inquisition~

Sera- I have watched her romance on Youtube to see how it was. It was cute, but she annoys the shit out of me. I couldn't do it.

Blackwall- I can't get behind romancing someone who's entire identity is based on a lie. I also clash opinions with him.

Josie- Another one that is too fairytale. Much like Alistair, I find it boring. Not enough at stake. I like my people slightly insane.

Cullen- I have only played as a female one time and that was to play a Solas romance so I could see what other people were talking about. My roommate has romanced Cullen before. The entire thing is cute, but not for me. I probably would be more open to romancing him if the bisexual coding had been left in. I mean he hit on my Inquisitor? or maybe I misread his intentions, idk.

Failed Romances:

Solas- I got bored. Not gonna lie, I cannot stand Solas so that is probably why we didnt work out.

The Iron Bull- I was having issues getting him into the romance phase. Eventually I gave up and went after Dorian again before abandoning this playthrough.

Zevran- I honestly just wanted to sleep with him to see what he said. I didn't take it further than that.

Leliana- She got super clingy in Origins which skeeved me out. I backed away slowly on this one.

Isabela- I was romancing her, but then forgot to get her approval high enough and she left after Act 2. Whoops.

Sebastian- I hated playing as a female Hawke. The animations for her walk was way to feminine and it drove me insane.

(Edit: forgot a failed romance)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As for unrequited crushes, the only one who comes to mind is Garrett. Garrett Hawke has a huge crush on Cullen and wants to destroy him. He wants him and Anders to let him "Know why mages are feared" if you catch my drift.

(Send me an ask to distract me!)

#fthechantry

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ambrossart · 2 years ago

Text

Paper Men: Ch. 28 *PREVIEW*

Someone’s finally coming back to school... 👀

“See? Bitch!”

Christie’s words sailed down the hallway and struck Evelyn on the back of the head, making her stop mid-stride. A gasp gathered in her chest as the hallway seemed to close in around her. Student faces blurred together. Sounds became muffled, all but the thunderous beating of her heart. I wasn’t being a bitch, Evelyn thought, unaware of the students who gave her curious glances as they passed. I said hi, didn’t I? What more do you want from me? Should I have gone up to you and shaken your hand? Said, “Oh my god, congratulations, I’m so thrilled for you two”? Because I am, I really am, I just…

(Bitch!)

Guilt and shame mixed uneasily in Evelyn’s stomach. It made her feel nauseous. Made her want to walk back over to them and apologize profusely like an embarrassed little girl at a grownup’s dinner party. Oh please, oh please, don’t be mad! I’m sorry if I came off a little rude earlier. I’m just having a bad day, that’s all. Please don’t take it personally, Christie. Pretty please? Pretty please with sugar on top? I’d really like for us to be friends.

Yes.

Friends.

That’s what I do. I make nice. I make friends. I make lemonade from lemons and turn rain clouds into rainbows.

Well, I’m not in the mood for rainbows, Evelyn thought, and kept walking. Anger simmered inside her stomach now, and she made no effort to cool it down. I have enough lemonade, I have enough friends, and I’m not gonna apologize to Christie Gibson! Why should I? I didn’t do anything wrong. She’s the one who bombarded me in the hallway, smelling like Vic’s bedroom, casually tossing around Mrs. Criss’s first name like they’re best friends. I’ve known Mrs. Criss my whole life, and she’d never let me call her ‘Tabby’… not that I’ve ever really asked…

Evelyn opened her locker, hung her backpack on the hook, and absentmindedly began gathering her textbooks one by one: English, psychology, world history…

So Christie wants to talk about Vic, huh? What could she possibly have to say to me about Vic? What, does she need gift ideas for Christmas? Buy him a bong or something, I don’t know… Evelyn shoved her biology book into her bag and paused for a moment, lost in thought. She returned in a near-daze and, forgetting herself, pulled out the same book and put it back on the shelf. Oh, then she calls out to me in the hallway while she’s with him, so I’d have to SEE them together. What the hell was that about, huh? Did she wanna gloat over her victory or something? Was she trying to get me to admit I’m jealous? Okay, fine, I’m jealous. I’m very, very jealous!

All Evelyn ever got from Victor Criss was cold distance and doors slammed in her face. Secret notes. Broken promises. He’d draw her in and then push her way. Get her hopes up only to smash them to itty bitty pieces. No matter how hard she tried, he refused to let her get close to him. And now, after wasting ten years of her life, she had to accept that this was as close as she was ever going to get: this friendship with a little asterisk next to it. They were friends, sure, but only when no one else was around. It wasn’t fair.

Vic was with her—in front of everybody, and he didn’t even seem embarrassed by it. How could he do that with her but not with me?

Probably for the same reason Christie Gibson won the student council vote.

Because Christie was cool and Evelyn wasn’t. Christie listened to rock music, dyed her hair fun colors, and had a butterfly tattoo on her lower back. Evelyn wore knit sweaters and could hardly name a current song on the radio (she listened to Olivia Newton-John from time to time, but nobody would be very impressed by that). Yeah, Christie Gibson was the fun, laid-back rocker chick. She probably spent her nights going to parties and concerts. Evelyn, meanwhile, spent her nights studying and doing arts and crafts on her bedroom floor… making dozens of paper flowers for a sign that nobody cared about.

(You know you’re quite the artist)

Isn’t that what Patrick Hockstetter had said? Yeah, he had. Last night, he was mesmerized by a tiny white daisy. It was such an insignificant little thing, yet he stared at it like it was something special, like Evelyn had somehow made a real daisy bloom in the palm of her hand. It seemed strange for her to be thinking of that now.

Stranger still was the smile that came to her face when she did.

It vanished a second later, and Evelyn started mindlessly unloading her backpack again.

Everyone thinks I’m annoying. Just Little Miss Busybody. I’m not cool like Christie Gibson. I’m not sexy like Manda Bosch. I’m just… just—

A long, slender finger poked Evelyn’s shoulder twice, jolting her from her thoughts. She jumped away from it, startled. Her stack of books went leaning, leaning... leaning way too far! A dreadful moan emerged from her throat. She tried to correct the lean, failed, and clutched the two bottommost books to her chest while the rest went tumbling to the floor.

Her disheartened sigh crashed against a boy’s rabbity cry of panic:

“Oh, great,” Evelyn said.

“Oh, God!” said the boy.

They dropped to their knees at the same time, hands bumping as they reached for Evelyn’s psychology book. The boy made a whimpering noise and recoiled from her with a snap of his wrist. Evelyn followed his fleeing hand and saw it bury itself in a small nest of copper-red curls.

“I’m so sorry, Evelyn! I don’t know what I was thinking, sneaking up on you like that. My mom always gets mad at me when I creep up on her in the kitchen, but I just can’t help it. See, I used to make too much noise when I walked, and she would yell at me to stop dragging my feet, so I overcorrected and now I make too little noise. I didn’t think that was possible, but someone how I managed. God, I’m so hopeless.”

Evelyn blinked her eyes in disbelief. Soft blue eyes blinked back at her.

“Denny!”

Denny Booker responded with a frog-like croak, as if surprised by his own name. “Oh, uh… hi.”

Overcome with emotion, Evelyn put down her books and wrapped her arms around Denny’s scrawny shoulders, hugging him tightly just as she had in his kitchen the Wednesday before. Denny’s face flushed with heat. As soon as their bodies made contact, his back went rigid as a plank and his skinny arms flattened against his sides.

“Sorry, I don’t really know how to hug girls,” Denny admitted once they parted. “See, I don’t… I don’t really know where to put my hands, if that makes sense. I’m always worried I’m gonna touch something I’m not supposed to.”

Like what? Evelyn almost asked, but she figured that would’ve only embarrassed him more.

Instead, she said, “It’s fine, Denny. I’m just glad you’re back. You are back, right?”

She stood, brushing loose specks of dirt off her stockings.

“Yeah… well, kinda,” Denny said, and got up, too. He wore his backpack with both straps and kept fidgeting with the loose ends. “I just came today to drop off my homework assignments. Tomorrow’s my first real day back. Oh, here, your books.”

Denny bent down, picked up Evelyn’s scattered books, and handed them to her with a sweet, unaffected smile. Evelyn thanked him sincerely and put them away in her locker.

“So—” Evelyn began.

“Hey, it’s the Book Man!” a distant voice hollered.

They spotted Scott Kellerman at the other end of the hallway. He had been strolling casually through the freshmen locker area and was now jogging toward them. Smiling, of course. Skelly was always smiling. He stopped briefly to give another one of his friends a high five. “Toodles, my good dude,” Skelly said to him. Then he rushed over to Denny and tackled him with a giant bear hug.

“What’s up, buddy?” Skelly drew back and slapped his hands onto Denny’s shoulders, giving him a little shake. “Look at you, all rosy-cheeked and gorgeous! How you doin’, man?”

“I’m… I’m good,” Denny replied. “Hap-happy to be back.”

“Shit, dude, you had us all freaked out in homeroom. People thought you were dying or something. As for me, I was getting ready to start sending around the ole donation jar like we did for J-Bird that one time. You remember that? ‘Help, my brother needs a new kidney!’ Nobody donated, though. Bummer. I guess they don’t care about pot-bellied pigs in this town, not even a cute one like J-Bird.”

“Oh…” Denny frowned. “Well, I’m sorry for scaring everyone.”

Skelly just laughed his usual carefree laugh. “Hey, no worries, dude. We’re just glad to have you back. Wait, you are back, right?”

Denny nodded. “Tomorrow. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Sweetness!” Skelly said, and laughed again. “Well, hey, I gotta go, man. Got a client waiting for me.” He sauntered away while humming an upbeat tune he made up on the spot. “Adios, mis amigos. That’s Spanish, if you didn’t already know. My teacher taught it to me today. That’s right, dudes, I’m one step closer to being bilingual, baby!” He fired off two gunshots with his fingers before disappearing around the corner.

A moment of silence passed. Then Evelyn turned to Denny and said, “Did he just say he’s meeting a client?”

“Oh right, yeah… Skelly’s got a little side business.”

“A side business? Wow…” Imagine that, Scott Kellerman was a fifteen-year-old entrepreneur. Evelyn was very impressed, and a little confused. “So does he, like, make stuff?”

“More like grows it.”

“Hello, children,” Miss Quaver said to them with a smile. “Nice to see you back, Denny.”

“Hi, Miss Quaver,” Denny said, a faint blush tickling his cheeks.

When she was gone, he and Evelyn collapsed into a fit of giggles that left Evelyn in tears and Denny coughing up phlegm. This made Denny terribly embarrassed. He wiped his mouth with his sweater sleeve and apologized. Evelyn, now snorting like a pig, told him not to worry about it.

“Wow,” she said afterward, while dabbing her eyes dry. “How did I not figure that out sooner?”

Denny shrugged and had to clear his throat one more time. “You’re just wonderfully naive, I guess.”

They shared another chuckle over that. Evelyn’s shoulders bounced as she laughed. Denny, being more careful this time, kept his hand cupped shyly over his mouth.

Then he said, “So, wait, why was Skelly dressed like a surfer?”

“Oh, because it’s spirit week,” Evelyn told him. “He’s a Beach Boy.”

“Right,” Denny said. “Yeah, I guess that explains your outfit, too.”

“Yeah…”

Evelyn tucked her chin into her chest and shuffled back a step, wincing as she felt that familiar sting of self-consciousness. Oh, why had Denny returned to school on Decade Day of all days? If he had waited until tomorrow, he would have seen Evelyn dressed in comfy cotton pajamas instead of this hideously short dress that made her look like a damn streetwalker. She braced herself for another searing hot stare, but from Denny Booker, all she felt was the most genuine warmth. His blue eyes were clear and kind.

“You look really nice,” he said, and that was all. “Oh, I have your biology notes!”

Denny shrugged out of his backpack’s left shoulder strap and pulled Evelyn’s notebook out of the main zipper compartment. “You take really good notes,” he said before handing it to her.

“Well, I do pride myself on my note-taking,” Evelyn joked. “I’m glad you found them useful.”

She put her notebook away. When she turned back, Denny was rubbing the back of his neck and wearing a frown.

“Hey,” he went on quietly, “I want to apologize for the way I acted when you came to visit me last week. I’m honestly really embarrassed about the whole thing. You probably thought I was having a total meltdown or something.”

Evelyn shook her head. “No, I didn’t think that at all. And you don’t have to apologize, Denny, not for any of it. You were going through a lot that day.”

Denny flashed a doubtful but grateful smile. “I found my dog, by the way.”

“Really? That’s great!”

“Yeah, we got a call from one of our neighbors this morning. He said Mandy Fazio found her sniffing around the junkyard last night and was wondering who she belonged to. I have no idea what she was doing all the way over there, but we took her to the vet, and she’s perfectly fine, so… I dunno, I guess it was just one of those strange coincidences, just like you said.”

“Yeah,” Evelyn said.

A strange coincidence, indeed.

I questioned Patrick about this last night. Now, all of a sudden—

Denny’s face paled, and he drew back with fright. “Uhh… I have to go now.”

“Huh? Why, Denny? Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, I just, uhh…” Denny dragged his fingers through his curls. His hairline was damp with sweat and now it was trickling down his forehead. “I just remembered that I need to pick up something from the office, and I… I need to head over there before they, uh, close for the day. Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow, Evelyn.”

Denny went running down the hallway… in the opposite direction of the office.

Weird, Evelyn thought as she watched him go, her chest tightening with worry. I hope he’ll be okay to return tomorrow.

She stared down the hallway for a moment longer, wondering what had set Denny off this time. Her answer came in the form of slow, plodding footsteps. She turned around and saw Patrick Hockstetter walking up to her with a lazy stride.

“What’s his problem?” Patrick asked, seemingly unaware.

Seemingly.

#fic preview #bowers gang #henry bowers #patrick hockstetter #victor criss #belch huggins #it stephen king #it 2017 #fanfiction #fanfic #paper men #ambrossart

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