#i wanna try the french twist look

[virginstoner666]

gnna dye my hair 2 feel real again, but also go back to the sweeney todd single contrast streak look

[satoruzlove]

omi and his girly little gf <3

he thinks you’re so PRECIOUS. when he first saw you walking across campus with your nails done, shorter than most of your friends, dressed well and in pink he couldn’t stop thinking about you. atsumu had to snap him back into the conversation. kiyoomi thought that you looked like a pretty princess.

when you two become friends and talk more, he’s a little more obvious about it. when you get your nails done or ask him if he likes a skirt you got he always compliments how well it suits you, that pink is your colour!!

if you’re black, and you add pink into your braids/ dreads/ locs/ twists he thinks you look like an absolute FAIRY!!! you come back from the salon [ he wanted to come see you. he swears he did. but you didn’t let him for the ‘surprise’ of it): ] his mouth curls into a smile and his dimples are on display, he gets up from his spot on the sofa and asks if he can touch them. he clears some of the hair from your face and he places a feathery kiss on your forehead , “it’s not fair, how pretty you are,” he says.

kiyoomi just loves when you have french tips. he loves it. especially when the base is a pale pink colour, and the tips are just a crisp white. he loves how it contrasts with his black rings as he holds your hand. his heart flutters when your little, neat palm can only wrap around a few of his fingers. he loves how your manicured thumb rubs against his battered knuckles - it makes him feel dizzy.

he loves when you wear skirts or get new ones, he always twirls you around like you two were slow dancing. he’ll chuckle along with you when you giggle, “i think this one’s my favorite now,” he said to you ; although he’s said that about all 7 of the skirts.

don’t you dare try to do anything when you’ve just gotten your nails done. laundry? he’ll help. you wanna make yourself smth to eat? nah, he’s got it. you wanna shower??? why????? he’ll just clean you🤞🏻🤞🏻. his big sister used to complain about having to do things with her nails on and he’d never let his sweet little princess do anything by herself ):

omi would absolutely let you do his makeup if you wanted to try a new makeup look. you sit him down, putting his bouncy curls in a little bun and then priming his face. his cheeks smush and squish as your small hands work on him gently. he can’t help the warmth in his chest when he feels that you’re making a conscious effort to be gentle when you’re soaping down his eyebrows or blending out the highlight. his favorite is when you put on mascara- the way your index finger tilts his chin upwards and you mutter a ,’ look up f’ me, kiyo’ in the most sugary sweet tone he’s ever heard. he replies with a simple , ‘ ‘kay’ that could never give away the butterflies in the pit of his belly.

lastly - he’s spoiling you ROTTEN. he’s got allll that athlete money for what???? you, obviously. you saw some pretty mary janes you wanna wear to work? done. you want new earrings? done. you want a necklace with his name on it? done. well, that part wasn’t a choice- but he’s still happy that you wanted it. if you two are out and you even say that something is cute , his immediate response is , “do you want it?” and he’s dead serious. even if it’s ridiculously over priced. if you’re someone who cries when they accept gifts i’m projecting i’m sorry consider his heart SHATTERED when he hears the break in your voice as you thank him. he’s coddling you, asking if you really hated the gift that much, but when you explain that it just overwhelms you he feels tears in his own eyes at how precious you truly are. his large hand caressing your head and the other rubbing gentle circles on your back, whispering to you that you deserve his gifts, his love, his patience because you give it back to him. you deserve to be a princess- his princess- forever</3333333

[sanyu-thewitch05]

F! Yuu’s Dad in Twisted Wonderland pt. 3

Pt.4

Books 3, 4, &5 were when your dad was stressing.

🦀: Why do Ace and Deuce have sea mushroom thingies on their heads? They-They made a deal with a boy so they can cheat their midterms, but everyone else but you cheated as well so they’re stuck in a contract of servitude? Yeah no, don’t get involved in their foolishness-oh, damn it! The cat has a sea mushroom too! Well, I guess we’ll find a way to fix it.

When all the shenanigans happen and Leona eventually turns Azul’s contracts into sand and he overblots, your dad is there to witness it.

🦀:Already five in the evening and the boy ain’t right.

He watches you and your friends beat Azul out of his overblot and watches the aftermath.

Safe to say, your father makes you stay away from Azul, Jade, and Floyd.

🦀: Hold on, where are you going and why do you have a basket?

🦐: I’m going mushroom picking with Jade.

🦀: Is Jade that one that always looks high and acts erratic?

🦐: No, that’s his twin brother, Floyd.

🦀: Either way, don’t go with him. He probably does shrooms.

Which leads you to Book 4

Your father does not like Kalim.

🦀: Hey! Hey! Hands off! You are way too touchy with my daughter!

☀️: But she’s my best friend!

🦀: You just met her five minutes ago.

🐍: Kalim, don’t go around hug tackling people you just met.

🦀: You keep him in check. I like that.

Your father becomes the “I like that” lady from the Simpsons.

🦀: “You run a tight ship. I like that.” “You keep the boys in check. I like that.” “You got some intelligence in you. I like that.”

Eventually Jamil overblots, and Jamil doesn’t even bother hypnotizing your father. He respects him that much. Which extends to Yuu.

🐍: So, what’s your world like?

You sneak away into the desert to find your friends. Your dad is at Scarabia small talking with Jamil.

Jamil will forever have an ego boost that your father respects him more than Kalim.

Afterwards, when the VDC start to loom over NRC, he’s not opposed to you joining(it’s his chance to get video of you dancing and singing).

That is until he finds out the team is staying in Ramshackle during the training period.

🦀: No! Absolutely not! You’re not having 7 boys living in this dorm with you! Especially that Kalim and Ace boy!

🦐: Dad! If we win we could use the money to renovate Ramshackle!

🦀:…..fine. But they’re staying downstairs.

Your father catches a glimpse of Rook’s photobook. He legit tries calling the police.

Boy shenanigans ensue

❤️: Man I’m beat from practice.

🦐:So am I. I’m taking a nap. Wanna join me?

And for once, Ace actually gets to sleep next to you in a bed. Then it gets ruined by everyone else but Vil joining in. It turned into a group nap on the bed.

Your father finds out and he’s not pleased.

🦀: GET OUT! And Yuu, we’re having a review of the puberty talk when it comes to boys.

When the VDC’s happen, he gets a recording of Yuu dancing and singing. Unfortunately that was ruined after the revelation that Vil tried to murder Neige.

🦀: Yuu, we’ve gotta kick these people out! One of them tried to kill someone. These boys are not right!

🦐: Dad! It’s all good! He’s back to normal now and we won the competition which means Ramshackle can be renovated!

🦀: I worry about you. I really do. I never should have let you read Having Adeline.

🦐: *gasp* They are perfectly good friends!

🦀: Oh, really? Riddle has anger issues, Cater is just Cater, Trey probably has a fetish for teeth, Deuce is too pugnacious, and Ace keeps trying to sneak into bed with you.

🦐: But-

🦀: Leona is a grown man who needs to get his life and inferiority complex together, Jack is…actually he’s ok. Ruggie’s such a con artist he would takeover Atlanta. Vil’s vain and murderous, Rook is a French stalker, Epel has masculinity issues. Ortho is a robot boy who’s too complicit in his brother’s shenanigans and Idia is an otaku creep who looks like he constantly needs a bath or else he’ll look like a zombie.

🦐: But-

🦀: Kalim’s too hands on with you, too oblivious to his surroundings, and has no boundaries, Jamil’s ok, something seems off with Lilia, Sebek is going to make you go deaf, Malleus is a creep and under no circumstances should you engage with him, and Silver is alright.

🦐: Why didn’t you mention Octavinelle?

🦀: Did I need to say anything about them to make them look bad?

🦐: No….no you did not.

[tainted-liquor]

⋆✦ Keep Talkin' ⋆ [3.11.23] - ft. Miles G. Morales ⋆ Ingredients: Sugar, Smiles, and a lil bit of Salt! A/N! READER HAS A STUTTER. Please keep that In Mind.

“Miles, c’mon…get up-“ You chuckled, using all your strength to shuffle Miles off your body. “Absolutely not.” He blurted, somehow getting heavier than earlier as he further relaxed on top of your chest. “I-It’s almost the e-e-end…fuck” you sighed, growing more and more agitated by the minute. For as long as you could remember, you had a mind that moved faster than your mouth could deliver; words and syllables getting lost on the tip of your tongue every time you attempted to vocalize your thoughts. “Mamita, está bien. vamos, sigue hablando, It doesn’t bother me” Miles grunted, plunging his face further into your soft navy-blue wool sweater.

“Y-y-yeah y-you don’t, I do” you chuckled, feeling the air fill your lungs as Miles hoisted himself off of you. The temperature difference was terrifying; you had gone from a comfortable cozy warm to a sudden burst of wintery air blowing directly on you from the A/C. You pulled yourself off the sophomore lounge’s plush bean bag, stretching and yawning while Miles poured coffee into his matte black water bottle. The enticing scent of fresh brew wafted through the space, invading the senses of anyone who passed by the cozy lounge. “You want some?” He asked, pouring French vanilla, cinnamon, sugar, and caramel into the bottle and giving it an aggressive shake.

You nodded, taking the bottle from his hands and taking a deep swig from the warm cup of caffeine. “Aight, c’mon. You have class” Miles recalled, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as he guided you out of the dim and inviting lights of the lounge to the harsh fluorescent lighting of the school hallway. “Miles, can we go to…what’s i-i-i-it called…the cafe across the str-..the cafe across the str-street?” You asked, twisting the cap back on his water bottle and handing it back to him without missing a beat. “Yeah, of course, come get me after class,” he beamed, shoving the water bottle back into the side of his blue backpack. You said your goodbyes, slipping into the cold confines of your classroom while you waited for the rest of the student body to cram into their assigned seats.

Tension was high as everyone opened their computers, faces being illuminated by the ghostly white hue of their screens as they got ready to present their Google slides. You’d always been exempt from vocalizing lengthy presentations, but today you wanted to at least try to work through or around your stutter. You got up from your seat as quietly as possible before fixing your ash grey skirt and made your way over to Mr. Talgate’s desk. You felt slightly more confident, or maybe that was just the ghost of pride taking over you from Miles’ reassurance prior. But regardless of what it was, you wanted to present your slides, especially with how hard you worked on them for the past 3 days.

“Mr. Talgate? Is i-i-it…is i-it alright i-i-if I pres-present today? I’m really proud of my slides n’ I wanna try tod-today” You whispered, attempting to suppress that agitating stutter of yours. Mr. Tailgate looked elated, like a proud father who was ready to support his daughter with anything she wanted. “Yeah, of course! You can go right after…uh,” He mumbled, looking over the classroom to see who you could sandwich your presentation in between. “Lisa! You can go after Lisa. But if you ever wanna stop, just let me know…Make a time-out sign with your hands and I’ll let you go, alright?” He smiled, waving you off as you nodded and retreated to your seat. No thoughts were coursing through your head as everyone went up and gave their speeches; one by one, people’s names were removed from the list as your time to speak came closer and closer. 

You fixed everything that you could, reciting your I’s and Y’s and E’s with each passing second. Lisa took any final questions, before giving a warm smile and a thumbs up in your direction, mouthing “Good luck babes!” before collecting her computer and returning to her seat. You gave her a sheepish, lopsided smile in return as you prepped the small podium in the front of the classroom to present your project. You sucked in a deep breath, wrangling your thoughts and lingering anxieties before turning to face your peers.

“Hi! So, m-my pres-presentation i-i-i-is about th-th…the chemical compound Nitrous O-Oxide.  As you can see, there’s-” You began, quickly beginning to feel the epiphany of speaking in front of a whole class setting in. You were doing fine for the most part, until a random voice in the back spoke up, ruining the rest of your day. 

“Yo, does she always fuckin’ stutter like this? We can’t skip her?” He moaned, throwing his hands in the air like he was stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic. Your blood ran cold as you shut your mouth and clutched the sides of the glazed oak podium. The class erupted in groans of annoyance and shouts of ‘Shut up!’ aimed at the boy as you quickly sat back down at your desk. Your waterline pooled with tears as the boy named ‘Kaiden’ was ejected from class. What a fucking loser.

You barricaded your face in your arms, the tip of your nose ghosting your desk as tears silently trailed from your eyes. The sound of whispers and apologetic glances in your direction went unnoticed as the tinnitus made itself known in your ears, flooding your senses as the pressure on your throat grew heavier. You struggled to control your breathing while you asked the teacher to leave, earning quick confirmation and a gentle pat on the shoulder from Mr. Talgate. When you finally brought yourself out of the classroom, you wiped away the remnants of the salty tears in the mirror that you kept in your blue locker. No matter how hard you dabbed at the trail of tears, no amount of recovery or cleanup would dissipate the feeling of dread that pooled into your stomach every time you went to open your mouth.

Anyway,

Thankfully, that was your last class of the day. All that was left was to find Miles and get some food, and then you could go home to your warm and comforting pink cotton sheets. Your glossy Mary Janes clinked against the pure white vinyl composition tiles, echoing through the spirit-painted walls as you advanced toward the sophomore lounge once more. You pushed open the deep grey sliding door, revealing your boyfriend with his legs propped up on the window seal. He crouched with his knees to his chest, one AirPod in his left ear as he read a bright red comic about someone named Spider-Man. His eyes broke their pattern of scanning over the small font and vibrant pictures, instantly turning over to look at you as he lifted himself off the window.

“Wassup, Ma…You out early, they let you go or somethin’?” He asked, giving you a tight hug and a kiss on the forehead. There was a moment of silence as you nodded with a small smile, earning a sideways glance from Miles. There was a thought that itched at the back of his mind, but he went against his better judgment and assumed you were tired and just wanted some food. It was all going fine until he realized that you were 2 minutes away from the familiar French cafe and you hadn’t said a single word. He missed your usual commentary as you passed by buildings, giggled about dogs, and pointed out signs that caught your attention. He glanced over in your direction, observing as you stared at the ground and fiddled with his bandaged fingers.

“You good Ma? You been real quiet lately… what's on your mind?” He questioned as he held open the glass door so you could pass through into the soft, dim, yellow lighting of the cafe. It was virtually impossible to get anything past Miles; he knew you better than he knew himself, that was clear. Your voice was barely above a whisper as you unpacked the events of 8th  period. “Then he said that I shou-shouldn’t be presenting,” you mumbled, taking a seat at the deep brown leather booth just by the back exit. The store was warm and the fragrance of fresh baked goods wafted through the air, something that could always be associated with comfort and relaxation wasn’t doing much to help you relax right now.

“Well fuck him. Fuckin’ dumbass ain’t even had the balls to say it at the front of the classroom…Kaiden failing his classes anyway baby don’t pay that bum any mind. His mama got 2 teaspoons of hair, Déjalo donde está” He grumbled, rolling his eyes as he slid you closer to his side. “Listen, don’t let them niggas hurt your feelings. He a fat rectangle with buck teeth, don’t let that motherfucker bend you,” He grunted.

“Now c’mon, I want a cannoli.”

Tags !!

@ashsostrange @chessbox @janaeby @faeriesoiree333 @fivestardior @an1bara @bachirasegoist @niaurluv @sp1derw1re @ban-al3x  @we-loveebony @kae2kaee @dxrlingcc

[chibieggplant]

Confessions with Penguin

My boy Penguin doesn’t get enough love. No warnings just banter and fluff.

You sat eating your lunch watching your other crew mates converse and joke with each other when suddenly you were jolted out of your little world feeling a nudge on your shoulder.

“Hey! I told you to stop doing that” You grumble as you rub your arm.

"What, this?" Penguin nudges your shoulder again as he takes the seat next to you.

You swipe his hat from his head in retaliation as he sits down.

"Hey, give that back!" he protests with a smile as he tries to grab his hat back.

“Nuh uh!” you pull the hat down snug on your head sticking your tongue out him.

Penguin lets out an exasperated sigh. "Fine, but can I at least get my hat back after lunch?" He didn’t take his hat off…ever, but he couldn’t deny you did look pretty cute in it so he would make an exception.

“You’ll get it back when you promise to stop nudging me”

"Fine, fine. I swear I won't nudge you again" He said, crossing his fingers behind his back.

“Do you think I’m an idiot? That wasn’t a proper promise” you smirk adjusting his hat on your head proudly.

"What do you want from me? Blood?" he says in a pouty voice, crossing his arms.

“Yeah! I want you to make a solom vow”

"You're impossible" he rolled his eyes as he nudged you again.

“And you’re annoying” you say with a smile not really meaning it.

"Shut up" he said playfully, punching you in the arm lightly this time.

“Point proven” you laugh punching his arm back.

"Oh, you wanna go?" he asked playfully, pretending to throw a punch your way.

“You’re the one who punched me first!”

"But it was just a light punch, not like yours, you nearly took my arm off!” he says dramatically, feigning an exaggerated expression of pain.

“I’m sure you’ll survive” you chuckled rolling your eyes.

"No, no I’m pretty sure i’m dying." he says dramatically again, grabbing his arm in ‘pain’.

“Well can you die quietly then please?” You smile as you go back to eating your lunch.

"Well, thanks for your concern. My final seconds on Earth and you can't even show a little sympathy for your favourite crew member" he said with a fake sad expression.

“I’ll make sure to put on your tombstone that you went out from a light punch to the arm” you deadpanned.

"Make sure it's carved in marble too” he said sarcastically with a dramatic flourish.

“You’ll get a wooden cross at best” you chuckled.

"It better be mahogany at the very least”

“I’m sure I can find some nice looking sticks outside”

"They have to be the perfect length, not too short but not too long either. Oh, and make sure the shape is nice and straight, no twisted branches"

“I’ll do my best…just for you” you smile as you throw a french fry in your mouth trying not to laugh.

"Thank you for doing the bare minimum" he said, faking a dramatic sigh before shoving a handful of fries into his mouth.

“What happened to ‘my final seconds on earth’? Shouldn’t you be dead by now?” you smirked. “I’m pretty sure dead guys don’t steal other people’s food”

He tried hard not to laugh, his lips twitching. “I'm fighting for my life here”

“Shut up” You smile throwing a french fry at him.

He catches the fry in his hand and pops it into his mouth. “So rude, even in my dying moments”

“You’re insufferable” you smile shaking your head.

"But you still like me, right?" he said leaning on the table.

“Someone has to” you shrug.

"Oh, please, you secretly have a huge crush on me” he teased, batting his eyelashes.

“You wish” you grin throwing another french fry at him.

He quickly catches the fry again in his hand and eats it. "Don't even try to deny it. We've been friends forever, there's no way you're not in love with me"

“By that logic that means you’re in love with me too” You smirk before quickly realising what you just said…did you just admit to being in love with him?

It takes him a second but then his eyes widened in realisation. Was that an actual slip-up? Did his crew mate, his crush, actually just admit she felt the same way?

“W-wait…what did you just say?”

You looked away suddenly, your eyes fixating on an empty spot across the room. You could feel yourself starting to flush. Had you really just admitted your feelings to him?

You try to backtrack quickly “N-no y-you- I mean…like as a friend…” but you just end up fumbling your words.

He noticed how your words faltered and caught onto the way your cheeks blushed red. Were you just messing around with him?

“No, no, hold on a second. Back up. What did you just say?”

You looked away, embarrassed. “I-it was j-just a joke. I wasn't being serious, really”

His eyes were on your every move. He saw your blush grow deeper, your eyes darting across the room. In that moment, he knew your words had been genuine, not just a funny joke.

“You're lying”

You stayed silent for a few moments, hesitating to respond. Your heart raced as you realised he had read you like a book.

"It was just... I... I just meant by your logic that would mean you’re in love with me…too” You said the last word so quiet that you’d be surprised if he heard it.

A hint of a smile appeared on his face. He couldn't believe it. Did he actually hear what he thought he had? He knew he wasn't imagining things when you started stumbling over you words. He knew you felt the same way as he did. Now he just needed to confirm the answer.

“Say it again”

“S-say what?” The blush across your cheeks refused to leave your face as you still couldn’t bring yourself to make eye contact with him.

He leaned slightly closer to you, lowering his voice so that it could only reach her ears.

“Say that you're in love with me…”

You looked at him through the corner of her eye, completely shaken up by this whole situation.

“D-do you really want me to say it?”

He took your face in his hands so that your eyes met. You shivered at the touch of his hands, a wave of butterflies washing over you as you felt his eyes gazing into yours. Your heart was racing, pounding rapidly in your chest but what you didn’t know was his heart was also beating just as fast.

“Just say it…please”

Your words were breathless, barely even a whisper. “I-I’m... in love with you”

A smile spread across his face as he brushed his thumb over your cheek. He could barely believe this moment was actually happening, that the person he had loved for so long also shared those feelings with him. He wanted to kiss you, to hold you forever. But he knew he needed to hold back, he didn't want to rush anything…not yet anyway.

“Well look at that, here I was thinking I was the only one...”

[chlorinecake]

 ⋆｡˚ ✈︎ love at first flight | N.RK

ft riki x fem!reader, nwjns hanni, enha jake | genre fluff, airport crush, strangers to lovers | cw language, flirting, kissing, dirty jokes, petty "arguments," possibly geographically incorrect | pt. 1, 2, and 3 here | wc 4894

synopsis. 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘢𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳…🗼

It was around 11:00pm as you struggled to find your passport.

"I could've sworn it was on my desk yesterday," you thought to yourself, searching through your messy bedroom.

After your morning cafe date with Riki, he dropped you off at your apartment so you could get started with packing as soon as possible, given that your flight was booked for take off the next day.

You're still not sure why you said yes to Riki's impulsive offer, though, part of you wanted to believe that saying "no" would've been an even riskier call.

Riki, in all of his handsome glory, had been a menace to your soul. You just couldn't put a finger on what is was about him that kept luring you in almost magnetically.

Ding, dong.

Your breath hitched at the sound of someone knocking outside your apartment door. Grabbing the purple ink pen from your dresser, conveniently sitting next to your diary, you gripped it like a weapon as you approached the door cautiously.

Knock, knock, knock.

Unlocking the latch and twisting the handle, you slung the door open to reveal none other than Riki, standing calmly with grocery bags in each hand.

"Good night! And yes, that can be a greeting… What's the pen for?" He shrugged, walking past you and straight into your apartment as if owning the place.

You flashed him an annoyed look before closing the door behind him, suddenly feeling embarrassed while dressed in your pjs.

"It's for self defense, night stalker. And how'd you even know where I live?" You asked accusingly.

"I drove you here earlier after the cafe, remember?" He said while placing the grocery bags on your study desk to unload the items.

Damn, you thought to yourself, It must be wayyy past my bedtime...

"Anyways, I brought you this neck pillow-thingy for the plane," Riki smiled, walking up to you and fastening the pillow around your neck, "Pretty cool, right?"

"Uhhh, sure," you mumbled, standing awkwardly as he welcomed himself to explore your bedroom.

"So...," he began with a grin, "this is where you keep your pretty little panties, huh?" Running a finger over the surface of your dresser, he stopped once he met your oh-so familiar diary.

"Hmm. I remember this little guy. How many pages have you written about me so far? My guess is at least 3."

"Jokes on you, Riki. I don't reminisce about people I haven't even known for a week," you said with a sigh, plopping on your bed, too tired to retaliate physically.

He parts his lips as if wanting to say something, but nothing came out. He only walked over to your bed, taking a seat beside you.

"Look, ____. If you wanna back out of this trip, it's not too late. I understand that this is a pretty big thing I'm asking of you."

"No, Riki, I really do wanna go. It's just that I lost my passport somewhere in this stupid apartment and now I can't find it," you pouted before suddenly feeling his weight escape your side.

He paced around your room as if an internal GPS was guiding him in the right direction.

"What're you doing?" You giggled, watching as he picked up a random toilet paper tube to use as a searching tool.

"Shh, I think I see it!" He whispered, reaching for a navy blue and gold envelope from under one of your shoe boxes, "Voici!"

You gazed in shock, not only at his use of French, but also at how he actually managed to find it, let alone that quickly.

"Holy shit, Riki! You're a lifesaver!" You beamed, running to give him a bear hug.

"I bet you've been dying to do that since I came in," he teased, trying to conceal his own blushing.

You were losing track of how many times he flirted with you in the past five minutes, but you were just glad that he found your passport in time.

All there was left to do now after packing was explain to your best friend Hanni where you'd be for the next 2-3 days.

The following morning came by quicker than you already expected it to.

Fortunately, y'all arrived at the airport just in time for boarding, going to your respectful seats on the aircraft according to your ticket numbers.

And finally, it was time for takeoff.

You and Riki hadn't even been on the plane for thirty minutes before you started bumping heads with each other.

“How come you get to sit by the window? You’re not even taking pictures,” You scolded him, crossing your arms in frustration.

“You see? That’s the problem with this generation. Always seeking technology to bring them happiness," He said, shaking his head.

“Riki, we’re literally depending on technology to carry us cross country. Welcome to our advanced society.”

“That’s not even a fair comparison, but go off.”

You scoffed, “Don’t ‘but go off’ me!”

“Or what?” He challenged, flashing you a smirk that made you internally curse him for being so effortlessly attractive.

“I said, or what?” He continued, putting an arm around the head of your seat and pulling your face towards his by your chin.

The way he peered into your eyes made you feel like kissing h—

OH GOD, NO! NOT AT ALL! NEVER, you thought to yourself.

He licked his lower lip, making you stutter as you answered, “O-or I’ll… I’ll tell your mom on you!”

He snorted at your empty threat, “Yeah, good luck with that. She doesn’t speak English for shit.”

“Well, whatever, I’ll just use google translate,” you snapped back.

“Oh, so you think fast?”

“Only when I-“

He interrupted your words with a kiss to your forehead, “Not fast enough, apparently,” he winked, sitting back in his seat.

Oh boy. This trip is already kicking off to an interesting start.

You sat frozen as if he’d just snatched your soul away, focusing on the moisture his lips left on your skin.

“And don’t even think about wiping that off,” he smirked, searching through his carrier bag before pulling out a pair of wired headphones.

You weren't gonna let him win that easily.

Exhaling your nerves, you thought of something catty to say back to him/

“Now look who’s a product of our e-generation, Mr. iPad Kid. Let me guess, is it time for Cocomelon?” You pouted facetiously, trying to conceal your nervousness from whatever the hell possessed him to kiss you.

“I’m just tired of hearing the air conditioner," he shrugged, "Sue me.”

Riki plugged the headphones into his phone port, opening the Spotify app (not sponsored lol) on his phone and selecting a random playlist. “Wanna listen?” He asked softly, meeting you with his dark brown eyes.

You took the left earbud from his hand, positioning it into your own ear as the sounds of lofi rhythms met your ears. After a few minutes, you drifted off to sleep, not even realizing that you were laying on his shoulder.

Riki eventually followed after you, leaning his head atop yours as he snored softly. Though, he’d likely never tell you that part of the story once you woke up.

A couple more hours in the plane passed, and you were officially landing at your final destination: Paris, France.

“I'm sorry, you’re WHERE? With WHO?!?!” Hanni yelled over the phone.

You didn’t mean to make it seem like you'd been keeping this big secret from her, but you simply never got around to telling her... that you were impulsivey traveling across country with a guy you met at the airport last week.

“Look, it’s only for a few days, I’ll be fine,” you replied, unpacking your luggage on the hotel room bed.

Riki was busy getting you an extra key card for the room, so you didn’t have to worry about him barging in on your conversation for a while.

“Tell me. Why did you think this was a good idea, ____. Honestly? Hell, did you even think before saying yes?”

“Of course I did, Hanni… but if you’re just gonna keep scolding me, I’d rather we talk about something else,” you whined, hating the way she started to make you feel.

"Ugh, I’m sorry, bestie! Please don’t misinterpret my concern for cruelty.”

“It’s okay, Hanni, I know you're just looking out for me... but, maybe this was a bad idea.”

“Omg, naur!! Forget I said anything! I want you to enjoy yourself in Paris! Just call me if you need anything, alright?…unless it’s love advice or—”

“Money, I know. Talk to you later, pigtails!”

“Later,” she giggled, ending the call with a ‘mwah’ from her end. You placed your phone down on the mattress, flinching at the sight of Riki walking out of the bathroom, tossing the extra key card on the bed.

“What the- I thought you were in the lobby?”

“Yeah, but I came back up not too long ago. Don’t worry, I didn’t eavesdrop… the entire time,” he teased, running a hand through his hair as he observed your luggage. “I hope you have a pretty outfit in there.”

“Mhm, and why’s that?”

“Because, we’re going out to dinner, silly,” he said, pulling out an ironing board from the closet to press his wrinkled pants.

You didn't expect for Riki to wanna go out so soon after just arriving.

Either way, you tried on a few outfits before finally choosing the beret and plaid pink skirt-suit you usually wore during business meetings, which ironically fit the chic Parisian aesthetic.

“Bonjour, and welcome to Le Goût! Do you need help navigating the menu or are you familiar with French dishes?” The waitress asked in a friendly accent.

“We actually already spoke to one of your waiters. He’s putting in our order right now,” Riki replied, handing her one of the extra menus from your table.

“Very well, then. I’ll pop back around once you’re ready to order dessert. Call for Ines if you need anything else,” she smiled, walking away.

You swirled the ice cubes in your glass, just as your previous waiter came out with your food.

“Velvety Escargots Bourguignonne for the gentleman, and Chicken Fricassee for the lady,” he said, placing down your plates and walking away.

Riki stared at his plate with disgust in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, folding a napkin over your lap to catch any spills or crumbs as you ate.

“Uhmmm, I didn’t order snails…,” he cringed, poking at the shelled creatures on his plate with a fork.

“You literally looked at the menu and told the waiter that’s what you wanted. I thought you spoke French!”

“I do, but that doesn’t mean I can read it,” he replied.

“What did you think ‘escargot bourguignonne’ meant anyways?”

“Dunno, sounds like a pasta dish to me.”

“Well… do you wanna trade plates?” You offered, not wanting to come off as silly foreigners for misreading the menu.

“Pfft, of course not, I’m getting my money back! Ines! Excusez-moi, madame Ines?!”

You reached for Riki’s hand, trying to redirect his attention, “Riki, please, let’s just enjoy our food. Paris is a culinary landmark, I’m sure we’ll run into some better places after this,” you pleaded, swapping the plates on the table.

He let out a sigh, unrolling his napkin and placing it on his lap as well, “Fine. Bon appétit and what not.”

After finishing up in Le Goût, you and Riki took a walk from the restaurant, exploring the streets of France.

You weren’t too worried about getting lost, because Riki hired a personal chauffeur to guide you two through the city if needed..

He hadn’t realized how much farther ahead of you he was walking until you grabbed onto his hand.

“Oh, so we’re making it a public thing, I see?” He winked, pulling you closer to him.

“No, you just walk fast as hell and I can’t keep up with your legs,” you corrected, giving him a look.

“Mhm, whatever you say, ____.”

That’s when you two stumbled upon a group of people, waiting at the edge of a dock to be boarded on for a boat ride.

“Please don’t say you’re afraid of water,” Riki looked at you with hopeful eyes.

You weren’t too fond of potentially getting your cute outfit soiled, but with the way Riki peered into your eyes, it was hard to say no... again.

“Okay, let’s go,” you smiled, following behind him as he led you by the hand.

It didn’t take long for the officials to load you and Riki on the raft, as he opted for the cheaper version that gave him control to row the boat.

You watched as he paddled across the Seine River with childlike glee, observing the antique buildings surrounding the Eiffel Tower.

If it wasn’t for the cool breeze pulling you back to reality, you would’ve believed you were dreaming at how beautiful the scenery was.

How beautiful this moment with Riki was—

Ugh, never mind, it’s probably the snails affecting the chemicals in your brain.

“This is incredible,” Riki exclaimed, his arms rotating at a constant circle as he maneuvered the boat paddles, soaking up the Parisian sun.

“Like how incredible it is that despite your amateurish being, you can somehow pull everything off,” you smirked, nudging his knee with your shoe.

“Amateurish being? I have a lot of tricks up my sleeve that you haven’t even seen yet, ____. Trust, biologically, I was BUILT to pull everything off.”

“Right, so what happened with those snails earlier?”

“Gosh, are you seriously bringing that up right now?”

“Yes, I am seriously, deadass, on God, for real am bringing this up.”

He tried to hide the smile that dared to show on his face at the way you mocked his previous use of slang.

“Don’t get shy now, Riki. I can see you blushing.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you, clicking his teeth with his tongue before throwing the paddles into the river.

“RIKI!”

“Whoops! Looks like my bashful little fingers slipped,” he giggled, not being able to contain his laughter from the shocked expression on your face.

“Guess we’re gonna have to swim back. Come on,” he beamed, talking off his turtleneck before diving into the lake, water splashing all over your lap.

“Oh my God, Riki, you’re such an imbecile!”

“And you’re such a baby! Now come on, the water feels great, I promise!”

You watched as the water rippled around his movements.

You couldn't see anything below the dark blue river, making you feel anxious about actually jumping in.

“W-w-what if there are alligators hiding in there?”

“Pfft,” he scoffed, “French alligators? I mean, if I’m still swimming, they must have a pretty low appetite… unless… they prefer breast meat,” he winked, treading in the water.

“Gosh, you’re such a weirdo,” you whined, watching as he made his way over to the other side of the lake, marching up the rocky land.

He shook his head like a puppy, trying to get rid of the access water in his hair.

You looked away from him shyly, trying not to peek at how the white t-shirt he wore clung to his toned abs.

“Are you coming over here today, or what?” He teased, putting his hands on his hips.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, leveling your nerves before jumping in the water, leaving your favorite beret behind in the now abandoned boat.

So much for being peaceable foreigners.

After making it to Riki, which wasn’t nearly as daunting as you expected, he applauded your performance. “Brava, ____! Brava!! You successfully swam across a 30ft deep river!”

“30?!” you shivered in disbelief, thankful that he shared the rivers depth with you after you already got across.

“Relax, ____, that’s like a kiddy pool. Anyways, let’s get back to the hotel before we get sick,” he said as the chilly winds hit both your wet bodies. 

Under any other ordinary circumstances, you probably would’ve beaten the hell out of Riki for being so careless.

But it was something about the Parisian air that made you care less.

Riki phoned the chauffeur to bring you back to the resort, where he arranged a spa evening for you to be professionally pampered by French beauticians.

Meanwhile, he went to shower in the hotel room, saying that he’d meet you back at the spa when you were finished.

One of the hairdressers gave you a blow out and quick trim just to clean up your ends.

Then, conveniently after your finger nail polish finished drying, your phone beeped with a message from Hanni.

Riki tapped you on the shoulder, the scent of his sweet citrus cologne hitting your senses.

“You ready?” He asked, picking up one of the matcha macarons the spa staff gave you.

“Ready for what?”

“To eat. I know you’ve gotten all pretty, but I think it’s best we stay in since it’s dark out now.”

Did he just call you pretty?!?!

“Okay, we can hit up the French market and maybe make something for dinner," you suggested.

“Oh my gosh, great idea! We could make my mom’s gyoza recipe!”

“Oh, did she make the ones you let me try at the airport that day, too?”

“I can’t believe you still remember that," he said in shock.

“Well yeah, that was only a few days ago…”

“Hmm. I guess you just don’t seem like a stranger to me anymore,” He smiled, grabbing your hand and leading you from the resort spa.

After shopping at the market, where the prices were surprisingly affordable, you and Riki headed back to your hotel room to unpack the groceries.

“I hope you’re good at cooking,” Riki chimed, grabbing a large bowl to fill with all the French snacks you brought from the store.

“Why, exactly?”

“Because, I’m mostly gonna watch while you keep me entertained, Chef ____.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, grabbing a knife and chopping board as you started prepping the ingredients you’d need.

“Does ‘tsp’ mean tablespoon or teaspoon?” You asked, struggling to interpret his Mom’s recipe instructions.

“All I know is big spoon and little spoon,” he smirked, leaning closer over the counter.

You brushed off his flirting as you kept trying to figure out the recipe. That’s when Riki grabbed a handful of fondue flavored chips from the snack bowl, crunching them between his teeth.

“Gosh, would you stop chewing so freaking loud? I can’t think!”

“It’s not my fault you’re a babo,” he teased, poking you on the nose.

“Bet you can’t say that in French.”

“Pfft, why would I need to?”

“Because you said you speak French?”

“For the last time, I do! I’m just not a dictionary.”

“Sounds like another lame excuse, but whatever. Pass me the sesame oil… Oh, and one of those chips!”

Making the gyoza wasn’t nearly as hard as you anticipated. Though, your main struggle came with capturing the authentic flavors.

After steaming the doughy purses and tossing them in a dark chili sauce, you plated a few for Riki to try, even though you both were already stuffed from the snacks alone.

“Ugh, can you at least try them while they’re fresh?” You whined, bringing one of the saucy gyozas to Riki’s mouth with a pair of chopsticks.

He complied with a sigh, parting his lips as he hummed.

“What do you think?”

“Well, they don’t taste like my mom’s, but they’re not horrible. I’ll give it a 4/10.”

“Huh?!”

“Well, I didn’t expect you to do better than her, or even come close, so don’t feel too bad about it.”

You pouted, wrapping the remaining dumplings in plastic wrap before placing them in the hotel fridge.

“Alright, let’s freshen up and head to bed,” he suggested, wiping the kitchen counter and heading to the bathroom to wash up.

You went in after he finished, changing into your pajamas and meeting him on the kingsized bed.

“Ahh... I love Paris,” he smiled, adjusting his head on the pillow.

“Yeah. Me too, but why?”

“Because, the next time I visit, I’ll be reminded of you.”

“Aww, how cheesy,” you smiled, returning a poke to his nose.

“No, I’m serious. I’ve never had this much fun with someone before.”

“But we’ve been arguing the entire time.”

“I know, but… that’s just our way of…”

“Flirting?”

He blushed at your words, “Yea. Our way of flirting.”

You felt your own face heat up in the moment, fighting the urge to scoot closer to him on the mattress.

“So,” you began timidly, “what comes after this stage?”

“Depends,” he replied, resting his hands behind his head, “Where do you want it to go?”

“Riki…”

“What?”

“We just met—“

“That doesn’t answer my question, ____.”

You let out a breath, thinking on his words, “Hmm. I think we would make great fr-enemies.”

He giggled, “That’s it?”

“That's it. But maybe with time… we could—”

Buzz, buzz.

A notification from Riki’s phone lit up the dim hotel room. He reached for his phone, only to see a text from his friend Jake, who said he just arrived in Paris and wanted to meet up tomorrow.

“Was this planned?” You asked confused.

“No?… I don’t know why he’s here... or how he even knows I’m here.”

“Well. Looks like we better get some rest for tomorrow.”

“Ughh, but I wanted to spend our last day here together,” he pouted, rubbing his eyebrows.

“And we still can, Riki. It’ll probably be fun having your friend around, anyway.”

A moment of silence filled the air before he spoke.

“Fine. As long as you don’t mind, neither do I,” he smiled, turning off the night light before trying to get some sleep.

“Hanni. Pham. You sneaky salamander!”

"Bonjour, bestie! Turns out, Riki does have a cute and single friend. Meet Jake, my favorite Aussie boy!" She beamed, clinging onto him as if they've known each other for life.

You wondered if that's how you and Riki looked together.

"Nice to meet you, Jake," you forced a smile, shaking his hand.

"You too, Miss ____," he returned with an Australian accent that caught you off guard.

No wonder Hanni and him were already getting along so well.

"Jake-hyung, when you said you wanted to hang out at the amusement park, I didn't think you meant for a double-date," Riki said with an awkward smile, searching your face for an 'okay' sign.

"Aww, c'mon Nishi, it's not every day that you're granted with such convenient chances (😉) to hang out with friends," Jake began.

"Exactly. Let's make the most of this beautiful day, shall we?" Hanni encouraged, taking your hand in hers as you, Riki, and Jake went on to explore the park.

The four of you went on more rides than you could keep track of, ranging from ferris wheels, spinning teacups, and rollercoasters.

It was also fun watching Riki and Jake battle it out on an amusement park mini game to win a stuffed animal prize: Of course, Riki won, but you gave the plush to Hanni because you didn't feel like carrying it around.

You all planned to end the night with ice cream, but that was until Riki caught sight of a jewelry making station.

"____, we have to," Riki said in a serious tone.

You giggled, "Have to what? Make matching friendship bracelets?"

"Uh, YES!"

Hanni and Jake sat at a different table than you and Riki, hooking different charms to the silver bracelet chains provided by the staff.

You and Riki decided to make one for each other and then swap them once you finished.

"Are you guys almost done?" Jake asked, looking at the time which was running close to 7:30pm.

"Almost, I just need to make a few finishing touches," Riki smiled, adding on some beads.

Finally, you all payed for the bracelets and put them in velvet baby blue goody bags, bidding your farewells before heading back to your respective hotel rooms to pack.

"Today was so much fun," Riki exclaimed, sorting the clothes in his suitcase.

"I know, I'm already sad just thinking about how we go back to reality tomorrow."

"Yeah...but in the meantime, let's enjoy our last few hours in Paris," he smiled, closing his suitcase before putting on a French film for you both to fall asleep to.

The next morning came by faster than desired. On the flight back home, you reminisced about your fun weekend in Paris as though you might forget the moment you stopped thinking.

It was the simple things that started to effect you the most.

Riki's random Spotify playlist knitted memories with songs, faces to feelings.

You were falling hard for Riki, and the truth was, you had been since day one. It was obvious that he felt the same way about you, too.

The only thing holding you back was the fear of letting go.

The fear of letting love.

"All flight passengers, we have started our descent and will be landing shortly. Please remain seated after making sure your tray tables are in their upright positions and any other personal belongings are within your vicinity. Thank you," the pilot spoke from the head of the plane.

You and Riki were sharing a box of cream filled French cookies as you finished the last few minutes of the movie "Your Name" on his laptop.

"So you're telling me that this ends with Taki and Mitsuha not remembering each other?" You asked sadly, wishing the two characters could've had a happier ending.

"Not in this film, no. But the director mentioned something in an interview about them eventually reuniting and even getting married," Riki clarified, taking a sip from his carton of chocolate milk.

You sighed, looking out the window as the ending credits played silently in the background.

Riki tapped your shoulder, causing you to whip your head to face him.

"Here," he said, handing you the baby blue velvet sack he kept from Paris.

After making your bracelet, he said he wouldn't let you see it until y'all were in the plane. Turns out, that moment was now.

"Open it," he nearly whispered, his usual piercing eyes becoming more soft.

You took the bag in your hand, untying the string as you slid the silver bracelet in your palm. Riki didn't hesitate to fasten the hook around your wrist, a hue of pink rising to his cheeks at the sight.

You observed the rainbow heart beads and other cute charms that ran across the length of the bracelet.

One charm that stood out to you most was the shimmery blue airplane, dangling next to a cursive letter R.

The bracelet was so nice that it made you feel insecure about the one you made for him. He payed attention to so many little details, all apart of every moment that you shared together so far.

Even though the gesture was simple, you were left speechless.

"Riki, it's beautiful," you beamed, fighting the urge to hug him.

"Alright, alright, now where's mine," he teased, shaking with anticipation.

"Oh, right, I almost forgot," you giggled, reaching in your purse to hand him the velvet sack containing the bracelet you made him.

That's when a robotic voice emitted a series of beeps and tones from the ceiling speakers: a familiar chime that let you know the airplane had officially landed.

Riki was quick to grab your luggage and his, making his way to the airport base as you trailed behind him.

You knew after landing, the peaceful nature of your weekend would be bombarded with the busy world you knew best.

You still couldn't believe that you had just traveled cross-country with a complete stranger, and if given the opportunity, you wouldn't hesitate to do it again.

Riki took your hands in his just as your Uber ride pulled up outside the airport, since your usual chauffeur, Hanni, was still in Paris with her 'favorite Aussie boy.'

"I don't really know what to say, but... Paris was cool...with you, I mean," Riki admitted shyly, his usually dominant aura faltering before you.

"Yeah. Paris was cool with you, too, Riki," you smiled, stepping on your tip-toes and kissing him on the cheek.

You turned on your heel, walking towards the shiny glass doors with your polkadot suitcase clicking behind you.

Of course you looked back, and of course he was still there waiting for you to leave with a smile.

You made your way to the vehicle, loaded your things in the trunk before hopping in the backseat.

The quiet Uber driver made his way out of the parking lot while a certain thought meddled in the back of your mind: Riki and I will probably never see each other again.

Still, unlike Taki and Mitsuha, you could never forget the flirty TSA agent who stole your heart.

You looked at the bracelet on your wrist again, smiling at the recent memories that were already started to feel distant.

That's when you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach.

Buzz, buzz.

You pulled your phone from your purse, revealing a text on your screen from a number you hadn't made a contact for yet:

"Hey, it's Riki. I know you just left, but I might die if we don't hang out tomorrow. Coffee at Café Royale's? Again? Maybe?"

〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰

 ⋆｡˚ ✈︎ Thank you all so much for reading this ff! This concludes the finale for my long awaited "Flirty TSA Agent" Series. With that being said, feel free to check out my enhypen bookshelf for more fun reads!

 ⋆｡˚ ✈︎ Taglist: @fanficfactoryfoxxx @rickysblkgf @bambangan

[thechaoticplayer]

ALRIGHT I JUST WATCHED THE KRISISIS HARDCORE MINECRAFT STREAM AND

homie nap but it’s not really a homie nap and they just fuck the reader instead <3 no way they can put their beds together like that and expect me to be normal about it

Author's note: the first time I fucking saw the three beds together I was like "ah yes one big bed very normal" and then I get this and I'm like 😨😨 WHY HAVENT I THOUGHT OF THAT- I've never written something like this before so expect me to just suck- It turned out a lot shorter than expected and I apologize 🙏 Summary: what was supposed to be homie nap turned not into a homie nap 😰 will you survive I dont even know fam Contains: FILTH... SMUT... THREE BIG GUYS! THEY GRAB ON MY THIGHS-

Listen, you weren't purposely trying to seduce them. Four damn beds pushed together in one room, squished between Zali and Vanta. These men were big (not that way, but you definitely found out) and took up so much space, you wriggled around a lot.

Then you decided to make a "joke". "Hey, what if we just fucked in this bed instead? I'm not even tired because you big dicks are taking up most of it and its impossible to sleep now," you joke.

Wilson sits up to stare at you. Vanta and Zali prop themselves up on their elbows and there was some sort of silent communication that you didn't hear.

Now, you're on your back, tears streaming down your face as Vanta bullies his way into you, walls stretching to accommodate his large girth. Your legs over his shoulders and hitting that spot just right as Wilson plays with your clit, shushing you and murmuring praises in your ear. Zali is literally french kissing your tits right now, leaving red and purple marks and popping your nipples in his mouth. His tongue swirls around the sensitive bud, and all this pleasure you are feeling makes you see stars.

"Doing so well for us," Zali mumbles, kissing your jaw as you whimper.

"Shit, you feel so good," Vanta growls, hips stuttering as you both near your climax. Your moans get louder and both the healer and hitmen get harder by the second.

"Vanta Vanta," Wilson quickly says, tapping the soldier's shoulder.

Vanta slows his pace and you whine, so close to your climax only to be taken away from you just like that. "What is it?"

"Pull out for a second."

"Wha-"

"I wanna do something, okay?"

They stare at each other for a moment. Ah, another meeting you weren't invited to. Vanta smirks, dragging his cock out slowly and you feel empty. He moves to the side and watches Wilson go straight in between your thighs, eyes twinkling with excitement.

"W-Wilson, what are yo-" a moan cuts you off as Wilson begins eating you out like there was no tomorrow.

"Mm, perfect," Zali purrs, kissing your lips and swallowing your moans. "Doing such a good job, yes you are."

Wilson moans into your pussy, vibrations sending sparks up your spine as you shove his face deeper into you. His tongue laps greedily at your clit, collecting your juices and prodding at your sopping hole. You were close to climaxing, you could feel it coil and twist in your stomach.

"W-Wilson fuck, mm!"

"Looks like Wilson can eat pussy pretty good, huh? what a surprise," Vanta teases from side, pumping his cock up and down at the sight.

"Shut up Vanta," Wilson groans.

"Make her cum," Zali says with a innocent smile. "I want to overstimulated her, just a bit."

"Despicable." Zali laughs at the comment.

Your vision was going blurry and your mind could barely put together a coherent sentence. "W-wha?"

Zali presses a kiss to your forehead. "Don't worry, mon amour, I'm going to make you feel really good."

You clamp around Wilson's tongue and cum hard, your whole body shaking from the orgasm. Wilson sits up, panting, with all sorts of fluid all over his face. Was it sweat? Drool? Cum? Who knows. But you definitely noticed a white stain on his pants.

Zali instantly flips you over on your fours, hand pressing against your abdomen. "Look at this magnificent work of art..." he mumbles and it makes your cheeks flame. He slides his cock between your folds, collecting your wetness before gently making his way into you.

Full again, but overstimulated as shit, you whine loudly, trying to get away. But Zali's hands hold you against him, rocking into your body that made you moan. Vanta sits right in front of you, a devilish smirk on his lips.

"Since Wilson already came and Zali is in the process of it, why don't you suck me off while your at it?"

With a drawn-out moan, you lean down and kitten lick his tip, too impatient to lick every single part, you put his cock in your mouth. He groans at the sensation, bucking up a bit and making even more tears flood your eyes. Not only are you getting it from the back, but the front as well. Vanta face-fucks you, grunting and saying how fucking great your mouth feels.

Zali's shaky breaths tickle your ears as you clamp around his cock. You felt like heaven to him and he wanted you to feel the same. he quickens his pace, skin slapping skin and you moan around Vanta's dick. Wilson's hand went back in between your thighs, the overstimulation too much as you whimper loudly.

"Just a little longer, sweetheart," Wilson mumbles. And just as he says that, Zali unloads himself in you, hair framing his face as he panted.

However, you were still sucking Vanta's girth, his fingers tangled in your hair as you bob up and down. Vanta chuckles at the sight, admiring your pretty face going down on him like that. It gets him close to the edge, and he finally releases, a salty taste in your mouth. You swallow before he says anything, which makes him smile from ear-to-ear.

"Hey Wilson, you haven't gotten to be inside her yet, right?"

The hitman shakes his head.

"Wanna turn?"

You are definitely not going to be able to walk on your own for a while.

[munson-blurbs]

Congratulations of another celebration! Could I request Eddie/diner/milkshakes?

Guess who's back? Back again? Perv!Eddie's back, reblog this until your fingers bleed tell a friend.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), male public masturbation, oral (m receiving), Eddie is a total perv

WC: 1.3k

--

“So,” you say with a sly smile, dragging a french fry through a glob of ketchup, “are you bummed that you didn’t win Prom King?”

Eddie barks out a “ha!,” taking a bite of his cheeseburger. Grease trickles down his chin and he wipes it away before it can land on his t-shirt. The dance had barely ended before he’d started changing out of his tux and into comfortable clothes. “Can you imagine if Carver lost to The Freak? Dude would probably pull a Carrie White.” He leans over to steal one of your fries, despite the pile on his own plate. “What about you? Were you ready to fight Chrissy for the crown?”

“Nah,” you shake your head, swatting his hand away as he tries to take more fries. “It would’ve been criminal for Hawkins’ Sweetheart not to win.” Though her boyfriend is a total douche, Chrissy has never been mean to you. Besides, you weren’t even in the running for prom royalty.

The two of you enjoy your food in comfortable silence before you speak again. “Thanks for being my date,” you tell him. “I know prom isn’t really your thing, but…”

“Don’t mention it,” he grins. “I couldn’t let my favorite girl stag it; or worse, go with Jeff.” He says the name like it’s a moldy piece of bread, rather than one of his best friends, making you giggle. “And thanks for treating me to dinner,” he adds mischievously.

Your jaw drops. “Is that why you ordered a milkshake? Because I’m paying?” Eddie just looks at you with as much innocence in his eyes as he can muster, sticking the straw in his mouth and slurping obnoxiously. You grab it from him playfully, watching as shock spreads on his face. “Mine now.” You wrap your lips around the plastic straw and take a sip. Your cheeks hollow slightly as you struggle to suck up the thick, melted ice cream. When you pull away, a bead of vanilla shake clings to your lip, and you lick it off. “Delicious,” you grin, oblivious to the raging erection you just gave your best friend. 

“Give me that,” he mutters, snatching it back and drinking until he gives himself a brain freeze. But even the throbbing in his head can’t quell the hardness in his pants. 

You scoff. “God, you’re so selfish!” you exclaim, watching him greedily scarf down half of the shake. “Fine, be that way. I don’t need the damn straw.” With that, you take your middle finger, flipping him off before sticking it into the glass to scoop out some of the dessert. You take it into your mouth and swirl your tongue over the shake-covered finger until it’s clean, releasing it with a soft pop. 

“Don’t do that again,” Eddie hisses, trying to discreetly palm himself over his gray sweatpants. It was bad enough at the dance, seeing you in your prom dress that hugged every curve. Now your sucking on your fingers like he wants you to suck on his—

“Do what?” You bat your mascara-coated eyelashes, still convinced that his frustration is directed solely towards your milkshake thievery. “This?” You start to lean over, ready to scoop out more, when he grabs your wrist with his trembling hand. 

“Stop.” His voice wobbles, and he clears his throat softly. It does no good. “Please.” He looks at you with his brown doe eyes, a film of mist clouding them. 

“Are you seriously about to cry over a milkshake?” You roll your eyes. “I’ll just order my own if you don’t wanna share, jeez. No need to get your panties in a twist.”

Eddie’s leg is bouncing a mile a minute; you know he only does this when he’s anxious. “I’m fine,” he lies. “Maybe your panties are in a twist.”

“Impossible,” you retort, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back into the chair. “I’m not wearing any.”

The table shakes as he involuntarily slams down a clenched fist. “You’re doing this on purpose,” he insists, raking a hand through his tangled mane of curls. A bead of sweat slides down his temple.

“And you’re being weird,” you bite back, grabbing your purse and standing up. “I’m gonna run to the bathroom, and when I get back, I’d appreciate it if you were finished acting like an ass.” With that, you hurry off, wondering what had gotten into your best friend between prom and Benny’s.

Meanwhile, Eddie lets out an exasperated sigh as soon as you’re out of earshot. He looks around anxiously, biting his lower lip as he slides his hand into his pants. He’s never been so grateful to be tucked into a booth in the very back corner. In theory, he should be the one excusing himself to the restroom to take care of his…problem, but he can’t just strut through the diner with his prominent hard-on.

Girls always take forever to pee, right? He thinks hopefully as he gently strokes his length. The goal is just to get it to go down enough so he can make a quick getaway, but his mind flits to you licking the milkshake off of your beautiful fingers.

“You like that, baby?” Fantasy You coos. “Y’want me to suck anything else?”

“Y-Yes,” Eddie stammers, tugging with more veracity as his daydream intensifies. He imagines you crawling under the table, pulling his dick from his boxers and into your mouth. “Please suck my cock, pretty girl. I bet you’d look perfect with me in your mouth.” He winces as a small groan escapes his lips, but no one seems to notice.

“Poor thing,” Fantasy You pouts, swirling your tongue over his leaking head and swiping away a bead of pre-cum. “You’re so pathetic for me, aren’t you, Eddie? Having your best friend blow you in a diner; you just can’t help yourself.”

“Can’t h-help myself,” Eddie echoes pitifully. “Want you s’bad.”

“Want me? Baby, that’s not enough. You gotta need me.”

“I need you—fuck, I need you, Y/N—”

“Eddie, what the fuck?!” You—Real You, not his imaginary version, is suddenly standing beside the table. He’s so stunned that he freezes in place, unable to even remove his hand from his pants. “Holy shit; are you jerking off?”

He looks down at his tented sweatpants; even after being caught, the man is still hard as a rock. “I—um, I…”

Your eyes widen at a sudden realization. “Wait, I heard you say my name.” You place your hands on your hips and smile. “Eddie Munson, did I do this to you?”

“Shut up,” he mumbles, taking the hand he wasn’t just using to publicly pleasure himself and covering his face. “You just looked hot in your dress, and then the thing with the milkshake…”

“Oh—oh.” So that’s why he was so strange earlier. 

“Yeah,” he mutters, the tips of his ears tinged pink. “You didn’t realize how sexy it was?” he asks incredulously. 

“Honestly?” You shrug. “Didn’t really think about it. We’re friends; ‘s not like you’re trying to fuck me.” You raise your eyebrows in a silent dare for him to challenge your statement. 

“No, yeah, no,” Eddie trips over his words. “That would be super weird. Crazy, blah!” He sticks out his tongue in an exaggerated attempt to prove his point. 

“Right. Like, if I said to you, ‘Eddie, I need to have sex with you in the back of your van right now,’ you’d be totally disgusted, yeah?”

“Mhm.” But the waver in his voice gives him away. “Can you…haven’t you teased me enough tonight?”

“I’m only a tease if I don’t follow through,” you grab him by the collar, slamming a $20 bill on the table. “Come on, Big Boy. Before I change my mind.” He stumbles to his feet, wiping his hand on his pants. He’s halfway to the door before he runs back to the table, clutching a glass when he returns. 

“I’m bringing the shake.”

--

[chronicmisfit]

Showing my friend IkeVil

So a few warnings before I get into this: Alfons slander, Roger slander, Victor slander, Rude language in general, many random twisted wonderland references, and some risque images of a couple characters.

Sorry some of the coloration is fucked, I tried to fix it and can't.

Me = Orange Him = green

Alr here’s the first guy

He looks like he'd call me slurs while also being the gayest mf ever

sksksks Anything else?

Bro must struggle playing piano with them long ass purr nails I respect the dedication HE GOT THE COLOR PALETTE OF THAT ONE ROBOT THAT EVERYONE ON TWITTER IS MAKING CORN OF BOOTHILL??

Okay I will tell you about him now, and I want you to react again once i do His name is William Rex, he is one of my favorite two, he has the power to command someone to do what he wishes against their will, and he likes to help people become their own master.

Alright azul 2.0 I see what you’re doing Does he have a cringe gamer bf to top it off

He’s not the one I would compare to Azul

OOO I wanna guess which one it is

His curse is called the Curse of the Self-Righteous Monarch, so he's evil Riddle William’s* Is

BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA Alright so stick in the ass guy, I get it replying to 'William’s*', William Afton Ar ar ar ar

Next guy

That’s a whole ass final boss of twinks

Pfffff okay before I tell you more, do you or do you not think this is the guy who I would compare to azul

err no

you’re right

doesn’t give azul vibes from that stare He gives tiktok fuck boy

This is Liam Evans, he has the power to turn invisible from the curse of the Curious Cat (che'nya core), he is depressed and is so curious that he keeps trying to do things that would kill him

nvm i take back he’s cooler than any tiktok fuckboys

adfjhsflasjfhkdhkjlasfd HOW IS HE COOLER

Depressed Rizz or smth

Fair Next guy

sighs Sighs Sighs

what

Smash, sadly

ajdsalfjhkjasfd

IT’S THE LEANING ALRIGHT

that’s fine he’s the most normal boyfriend-wise of them all

BAHAHAHAH

if you ignore the pathological lying

All fictional husbands have to be a little insane its fine

His name is Harrison Gray, he has the power to tell when people are lying from the curse of the lying fox. He likes to read mystery novels.

I like him I want him

Lemme send you a NSFW pic if i can find one

WOOOOO

MC is a girl btw (L moment)

L MOMENT BUT HE’S FINE SO ITS ALR

next guy

Damn you thought you could slide in a french guy and have me not notice/j

HE’S ACTUALLY NOT FRENCH

AHAHAHAHAH

HE’S A BRITISH NOBLE

God bless

This is Lord Elbert Greetia, he is an Earl. He has the power to make someone see their saddest moment when he steps on their shadow (he has trauma from this). His curse is the curse of the Greedy Queen (Vil core). And he has an obsession with hoarding beautiful things (he is the yandere of the cast)

Dragon Core with the last one

dragon core omg you’re right I almost forgot this asshole’s name ;~;

HE LOOKS LIKE AN ASSHOLE

HE'S SUS (i still love him, but he aint a fave)

AHAHAHA

His name is Alfons Sylvatica, he can change people's perception by touching the nap of their neck and whispering in their ear. His curse is the magic mirror. He has probably fucked half the cast of this game.

Me personally? I think he’s cringe

OKAY BUT-

LOOKIT HIM

… Tempting

yes Exactly Next guy

NVM THAT ONES UGLY IM SORRY HE’S SCARY

adljhkfajkdfasdfafas

HE SCARES ME

I HATE HIM TOO DW

(Note: He grew on me since this convo)

HE’S WORSE THAN THE PREVIOUS I HATE HIM GET HIM AWAY FROM ME WHYS HE SO UGLY HE LOOKS LIKE HE’D HOLD AN ALPHA PODCAST

His name is Roger Barel, he can hear anything within 100m of him (selectively, so he wouldnt hear you fucking harrison). His curse is the traitorous huntsman (rook core but looks like trey). He drinks beer and wont stop flirting with Alfons' MC You see the resemblance right?

I hate that I see it Trey I’M so sorry you have to be compared to an ugly ass bitch

pffff Next guy

btw lemme know when you think someone might be the guy that reminds me of azul

emo He’s either really nice or manipulative ass

You’re right he’s def one of those

my bet has to be on the latest

wym

I mean he looks manipulative AGAHAHAH Sorry emo boy if you are not…

His name is Ellis Twilight, he has the power to bind people's hands together by tapping their head via the curse of the briar thorns. He is obsessed with happiness and will do anything to make someone else happy (once they have their happiest moment he will kill them) ([friend] likes him- [friend] is banned from playing the game for 2 more years tho)

Awe he's so sweet!!!! (What the fuck) AHAHAH

THIS GAME IS NSFW AND [friend] IS BB

AHSHS Yeah I could’ve guessed it was

like in alfons' route (unreleased rn) it goes so into detail-

I want him dead Negative rizz

AND ALFONS USES HIS POWER TO MAKE MC THINK THEY'RE LOVERS LIKE- IN CHAPTER 1 OR 2

BROTHER THIS GUY STINKS

Next guy

Is this the azul

There's only one more guy after this so i wanna wait until i send his pick before answering just so you know all the options What do you think of this guy

I like this one I would Bottom text Would He may look a tad bit evil but i’ll allow it

replying to ‘i like this one’, I don't (similar to crowley ah-)

OH A LOSER SO I LIKE THIS ONE EVEN MORE

This is Victor. We don't know his surname. We don't know his curse. We don't know his power. BUT HE IS THE DAD OF THE GROUP, dad jokes, cockblocking harrison and MC, magic tricks

(NOTE: I figured out what his power is since then-)

I want him

kskssksksks There’s like- no content for victor On tumblr

(NOTE: I found which tag the victor content is on)

I hate it here

Final guy

OH HELLO SAILLOOR

REAL

Is THIS the azul one

YES

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA OFC

remember william-? he was one of my favorites? (one moment i need to get some images)

YEA

I’M MARRIED TO WILLIAM AND THIS GUY

HAHAHAHA WIN

HIS NAME IS JUDE JAZZA, he can put someone to sleep by tapping their forehead via the curse of the thirteenth wizard (idk why wizard, it's just malleus core-). HE IS A MOBSTER, A SADIST, AND HE GETS OFF BY BULLYING MC, I LOVE HIM He’s ellis’ boss btw

more like dude zaza BAHAHAHA

Jude and William are my husbands <3

Got two hands for the two of them

Jude legit would give you a check and tell you to write whatever number you want on it... but then make you work to pay him back for it. So he is sugar daddy, but also kinky William canonically would use his power on MC for sex while he's drunk So you like- Harrison, Victor and Jude?

responding to the william info, DAMN Nods

I’m gonna be doing harrison’s main story route after I finish william’s I’ll send you any nsfw or near nsfw ss i see

IM WINNING

[thr-333]

Question for One and a Half Futures Au! 🖐️ If, in a third timeline, the family gets split up during a mission, leaving Leon, mini-Leo and the old man having to work together… how would it play out?

How does Mini-Leo juggles -read: struggles - teamwork between a sad old man version of himself with crushing guilt and depression, and a traumatised young adult/late teen version of himself with - understandably - massive hard feelings? You know… the fun times!

(Pretty sure the only reason Leon and F!Leo would agree to a brief truce is only because of their now-youngest self’s well-being and safety).

For clarity’s sake

Old man Leo: Leonardo

Middle: Leon

Youngest: Leo

The mission, excuse his french, had gone tits up.

It wasn’t even meant to be a mission! Leo had suggested going to the hidden city to see if there were any of the foot clan hanging around mostly as an excuse to explore. He should have known better than to use the foot clan as an excuse. They weren’t the Kraang but they were up there on his futures selves shit list.

Good news: No foot clan.

Bad news: Big mama was very much around, and she was pissed that their little Kraang escape had destroyed her hotel.

Which was NOT his fault. The wave after wave of goons sent their way didn’t seem to care. They had all been split up into groups. Leo wasn’t worried, these guys were small fries they would be able to take them out with ease. HE should be able to take them out with ease.

“If we go along the north hallway-”

“That takes us to the armoury,”

“Exactly,”

“No way, we need to go out of the exit here,”

“There's fighters stationed there,”

“Uh guys?” Leo tried to cut in. His olderselves glaring at each other down as they continued their hushed argument. The tension radiating off the two was choking.

“But then we’ll have space to regroup, and ambush,”

“Getting past those fighters is more dangerous than facing down the guards-”

“We could-” Leo attempted to cut in.

“-if we go past the armory theres a hidden passage to Big Mama’s office-”

“Oh so now you want to go to her!”

“I’m trying to keep us safe,” Leonardo scowled.

“Are you?” Leon spat, scars twisting with his furrowed brows, “All of us?”

Oh great, they looked seconds away from trading blows. Leo hated being alone with both of them. They dropped all airs of civility. It was all cutting words and knives that were intended to stab and twist.

“Hey it’s not a bad plan,” Leo slid in between the two, trying to be a visual buffer. Difficult when they were both heads and shoulders taller than him, “Swing by, ask what the heck dude and bing bang boom big mama leaves us alone,”

“See he agrees,” Leonardo reached out, going to place a hand on Leo’s shoulder. The youngest turtle was wrenched away before he made contact.

“No, no way,” Leon pulled Leo behind himself, becoming a shield as he snarled at Leonardo, “You don’t get to make plans for him,”

“I’m doing whats best,” Leonardo insisted, voice cold and hard, like Leon’s grip on his arm.

“Yeah, you always do don’t you,” Leon’s voice lowered to a hiss, “Greater good and all that, tell me how’s that gone for both resistances you led?”

The hallway turned frigid. It was a step too far, Leo could recognise that, but neither of them could. It had gone past ‘too far’ for them nearly a decade ago.

“Yikkkeeessss,” He tried to slide out of Leon’s grip but the slider held firm, “Well we have to do something so how about-”

“We’ll go to the exit,” Leon said with conviction, turning and dragging Leo with him.

“Hey, wait, wait wait,” Leo pulled back, digging his heels into the ground, “We don’t really wanna deal with this every time we come to the hidden city, I think we should go along with his plan,”

Leon looked back at him. Leo could and had dealt with a lot. Leo could deal with his Dads disappointment. Leo could deal with anger, as itchy as it made him under his shell. The yelling and stuff was just like how it used to be with Raph.

What he couldn’t deal with was the fear Leon looked at him with. Some part of his eyes in the present and the rest a thousand miles away in another time, another memory.

“No. no. no please don’t say that please,” Leon let go of his arm to cup Leo’s face, thumb running over his mask in the same spot Leon’s was nicked and tattered, “You can’t, please, please, please, don’t listen, I’ll keep you safe, I’ll come up with a plan,”

“If I listened to your plan’s I’d never do anything,” Leon stepped back, needing to jerk his head out of the others hold, “Look we don’t have to do exactly that but-”

“This needs to be done,” Leonardo stepped forward, hand landing heavily on Leo’s shoulder. Leon’s eyes snapped to the contact, pupils narrowing into pinpricks, “With or without you,”

“Uh, I don’t think you should…” Leo tried to move away from his counterpart's touch as Leon started shaking, blue light flaring around the slider.

“Let Him Go”

Blue lightning arched around them. Leo could hear shouting down the hall as their position was given away. That was secondary to how Leonardo was tensing up defensively as Leon grabbed his swords. The blades glowing like daggers of light. His shoulders were hunched and the shadows being cast over his face made him look feral. Fear stretched around his eyes and the snarl on his face. His weight shifted giving himself away the moment before he lunged.

Goddammit.

[marie-swriting]

Lose This With You - Katherine Pierce

Masterlist

Summary : you're in a relationship with Katherine but she's always starting fights with you even though you could have something beautiful.

Warnings : reader is a vampire, arguing, mention of Katherine's traumas, angst, good ending, consumming alcohol (be careful with your alcohol consumption), maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language so tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 2k

French version

Song inspiration : Afterglow by Taylor Swift

“Oh my God, I’m so sick of arguing with you. I just feel like I’m talking to a brick wall every time.” you exclaim, massaging your temples.

“So you think I’m the only one in the wrong in this situation ?” Katherine retorts dryly.

“I’ve never said that ! I’m sure I’m also wrong as well but it doesn’t mean you can accuse me of things I didn’t do ! Could we, for once, talk about it calmly ? The only thing we do is yell at each other then act as if nothing happened. We never solve the problem.”

“But I’ve been talking since the beginning.”

“No, since the beginning, you’ve been shouting and throwing accusations at my face, it’s different. At least, listen to what I have to say.” you beg, Katherine shakes her head.

“I don’t wanna listen to you.”

“Katherine-” you sigh, though she cuts you off.

“No ! Actually, I don’t want to talk to you anymore. Leave.” she orders, emotionless. 

“Really ? You don’t even want to try to sort this out ?” you ask, exasperated.

“There’s nothing to sort out. I don’t even know why I decided to get with you in the first place. I don’t even care about you.”

As soon as you hear Katherine pronounce these words, your heart tightens in your chest and you look down. Your eyes stings but you don’t let a tear roll down your cheek. You don’t want to show her she’s hurt you, though she doesn’t need to see your face to know it. Your shoulders down are enough. Even if a part of Katherine wants to take back what she just said, her anger is stronger so she keeps talking, twisting the knife in your chest.

“So leave, I don’t want to see you ever again.”

“Very well,” you start after taking a deep breath and looking up to her, “but don’t come back to me crying when you’ll realise you’ve fucked it up.”

“It won’t happen.”

“Perfect, then !”

You keep your gaze on Katherine for a few seconds before leaving your shared apartment. You slam the door and Katherine holds back her tears when she’s confronted by the silence. Your breath is heavy whilst you start crying. You wipe your tears with anger before going to the Salvatores’.

Your friendship with the two brothers is, additionally, often the object of your arguments between you and Katherine, your last altercation is no exception. You were supposed to meet them for a few hours and when she learned about it, Katherine started to scream at you while you were confused about the reasons behind her annoyance. Sure, you know they’re not the best of friends, but the tension between the three of them is not like it used to be. Furthermore, you've been friends with Stefan and Damon longer than you know Katherine. You had met them when they had just been turned into vampires. You had tried to help them thanks to your two hundred years experience as a vampire. Therefore, your friendship with the two men is important for you. As for Katherine, you met her only a few years ago and your relationship is even newer. Notwithstanding, the love you have for Katherine is just as important. For the first time in your long life, you feel like you’ve discovered the real meaning of ‘love’, however your numerous fights are slowly ruining everything. Generally, you never give up that easily when a conflict erupts. You tried giving her space and coming back to her later and even leaving her alone until she’s calmed enough to settle everything, yet there’s nothing to do. As soon as a tough time is behind you, she finds you a new flaw. 

Over time, you got used to the disputes. You’ve already said awful things to each other, you’ve already stayed several days without talking until you make the first step. Yet, you’re more and more tired of this situation and knowing she doesn’t want to see you anymore doesn’t help to save your relationship. The more time goes by, the more you tell yourself it’s destined to fail. You can’t spend forever arguing. It’s not what you want. So you decide to give up. You tried but she doesn’t want to make an effort so what’s the point of trying so hard ?

Once you’re at Stefan and Damon’s, you pour yourself a glass of Bourbon before greeting them. They instantly understand what happened. Damon doesn’t even react when he sees you pouring another glass. He knows his bottle is doomed for the night, this one and the next one he has in stock.

While you explain to them your last fight, Katherine hasn’t moved yet. She’s still in the middle of your living room, overwhelmed by her emotions. This time, she tells herself she probably took things too far. Deep down, she’s aware she’s the reason behind all of your problems in your relationship, even if she refuses to admit it to you. The look on your face when she implied she never cared about you is still engraved in her mind. She hates seeing you in pain and yet, she feels like she’s almost always the cause of it. Well, it’s not just a feeling, she knows she is. And she hates herself for it. Katherine doesn’t understand why she persists to destroy your relationship. You do everything to make it work. You love her, more than you should, according to her, and she loves you. You give your all for her and in return, she only gives you back baseless accusations. 

Katherine lets a small sob leave her lips before breaking down. Just like you, Katherine is tired of this situation. But above all, she doesn’t want to lose you. However, with what she told you and the way you left, she thinks it’s already too late. She keeps crying the whole night, mad at herself for everything she put you through. Katherine wishes to erase what she said, start all over again, however it’s not possible. She knows you guys have the potential to be something beautiful, if she wouldn’t let her fears speak. At first, Katherine is desperate, certain she has destroyed everything, then she tells herself she might have a small chance to fix your relationship if, for the first time in her life, she doesn’t run away. Determined, but scared nonetheless, Katherine leaves your apartment to find you. She doesn’t have to think to know you’re at the mansion. You always go to them after a fight. Katherine only hopes they won’t close the door to her face and you’ll like to listen to her.

You wake up when you feel someone shaking you. When you open your eyes, you see Stefan in front of you. Without a word, he points at something behind him and you notice Katherine on the doorstep, looking at you with an awkward and sorry expression on her face. You sigh loudly before meeting her. You cross your arms on your chest to show your annoyance. 

“May we talk ?” she enquiries with a small voice.

“I don’t know, you told me you didn’t want to do it anymore yesterday.” you retort, drily.

“Please. It’ll only take a few minutes. I really need to talk to you.”

When you see her pleading look, you decide to do it, not without rolling your eyes at your incapacity to go up against her.

“Alright, but not here, I don’t want any prying ears.”

Katherine steps aside to let you walk out of the mansion whilst you close the door behind you. You both walk in the forest nearby. 

On top of being silent, with your stance, we can tell you’re on the defensive, ready to attack if Katherine says something wrong. This doesn’t help Katherine to muster up her courage, but she knows she needs to do it. She needs to talk to you. She’s ruined everything, so she has to be the one to do the right thing.

“I am sorry.” Katherine starts, looking you in the eyes.

“‘Sorry’ doesn’t mean anything if you don’t fix your behaviour.”

“I am deeply sorry. Not only for yesterday, but also for all the other times. You’re right, we never talk. Or more precisely, I never allow us to communicate.”, she admits, surprising you, “Everytime we finish arguing or rather when I finish screaming, I act as if nothing happened, I don’t take responsibility for my mistakes and it’s not the thing to do. Besides, I know I’ve been hurting you since the beginning of our relationship. I’m always searching for every unpleasant vice to use against you, I do everything to push you away and I think this time, I’ve succeeded, but it’s not what I want. I care about you, more than you know. I don’t know why I always have to break what I love so much. I want to stop ruining our relationship, I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

“It’s all well and good what you’re saying, but how can I be sure those aren’t empty promises ?”

“Yesterday, when you left, I realised I’m destroying our relationship and I want it to stop. It’s just, I’m not used to having a bit of happiness so whenever I do, I’m afraid to lose it. I always lose everything, since the day my daughter was taken away from me and I’m scared you’re going to give up on me or you’ll end up hurting me, so I prefer to attack first. I know it’s not an excuse, I shouldn’t put my fears and my traumas on you, it’s not fair. You deserve that I treat you as well as you do. I don’t want to keep hurting you. I love you and I don’t want to lose this with you.”, Katherine continues as she waves between you two, “If it’s not too late, I’d like to have one last chance to prove to you I can be better. And for that, I need to apologise first. I am sorry that I hurt you. And I am sorry for always avoiding conversations, for giving you the silent treatment when you tried to talk to me, but above all, I am sorry to not allow myself to trust you while you do everything for me. I’m to blame and I’m taking responsibility for all my faults now. If I have already destroyed everything, you can tell me. However, I hope I’m still yours like you’re still mine and I hope you can tell me we’ll be alright, even when I lose my mind and, despite all the times I broke your heart, I’m still all you want. If it’s not the case, I’ll understand. I didn’t do anything to avoid this situation.” she states with teary eyes.

“First of all, I appreciate seeing you come to me and I’m glad you’ve realised a few things. I want to believe you really want to change, but how can I know it’s true ? How can I know, two weeks from now, we won’t be at each other’s throat again like we’ve been doing since the beginning ?” you ask, sceptical, “I don’t want to stay in a relationship where we slowly kill each other.”

“I promise you, from now on, I want to and I will make an effort. I love you too much to see you go.” she says, taking your hands, “Yesterday was enough to make me realise I won’t be able to live without you. Give me one last chance and if I keep blowing things out of proportion, still blame you for things that aren’t true, I’ll let you go. But I believe this love is worth the fight and I want to do it now.”

When you hear her determined tone, you can’t help but admit with this discussion, Katherine just proved to you she’s genuine in her promise. She really wants to make an effort for you, for the both of you. A part of you still fears it’s only a temporary promise yet you want to believe in Katherine, you want to believe she really wants to try with you.

“I can’t deny, you seem sincere. For the first time in our relationship, we’re talking and I’m happy about it. I don’t want to lose this with you either. I’d like to try one last time.” you smile, stroking her cheek.

“You won’t regret it, I promise.”

And you never did.

Masterlist

{This is my side blog so I'll be answering comments under the username @marie-sworld}

[sw-33-ts-stuff]

Killer in NYC

Tara Carpenter X Reader

Part 2

Tara POV

We were all sitting at the table joking around when our phones rang.

My eyes widened seeing Carly's lifeless face staring into the camera next to a bloodied Ghostface mask. The panic rose and I began looking around in my bag as everyone else at the table was silent. I couldn't find my inhaler and looked to Sam with wide eyes as I felt myself hyperventilate.

"Where's her inhaler?!" Evan looked around confused.

"Who has asthma?"

Chad stood next to me making sure I sat up straight as Mindy dove into my bag dumping it on the table looking for my pump. My vision beginning to blur.

"Wait Tara has asthma?" Evan began freaking out.

Sam began dialing 9-1-1 when a hand pressed a blue pump to my lips. I inhaled placing my hand on their wrist and felt the air beginning to come back into my lungs. (Y/e/c) eyes peered into mine concerned.

"You good?" I nodded thankful.

"Why do you have an extra inhaler?" Mindy said skeptically. The taller girl shrugged giving me the pump.

"Thought it might come in handy." She turned going back to work. Everyone eyed her before turning back to me.

"Tara.." I hugged Sam feeling myself tear up.

Its happening again.

.

.

.

We had all gathered at our apartment. On the couch Mindy and Chad, standing in the corner was Kirby.

"Well at least we made it to the sequel." Chad turned to his twin incredulous.

"Seriously?" The girl shrugged.

"Uncle Randy would be proud. But we need suspects and at the top of the list we have" Mindy got a napkin and began writing "the love interests" she glanced at Sam and I "or family of the deceased. In the second Stab the killers were revealed to be the mother and the best friend but seeing as this is still a re-quel or legac-sequel I wouldn't put it past them to try and come up with a plot twist."

Kirby stared. "Is it me or does she sound excited about this?"

Sam sighed pinching the bridge of her nose.

"I was really hoping I'd never have to go through this shit again."

"This is bullshit!" Chad ranted standing up. "I don't wanna get stabbed again."

"News flash genius no one does but with our luck...it's even more likely we die this round."

"FUCK!"

"So what do we do?" I felt my mouth move before my brain even processed what I'd said.

"First we have to act natural, chances are we're the core of this movie and any outsiders could potentially be the new killer. We're also gonna need to do some recon." Mindy looked at Sam and I. "Starting with potential love interests."

"Evan wouldn't-"

"David wouldn't-"

"To be fair Sam your last boyfriend was the killer." Sam glared at Chad who put his hands up in surrender. "Sorry but.."

"It's true." I sighed. "And Amber was my best friend so we really can't just trust anyone."

"So..." Mindy smirked. "Who are we stalking first?"

.

.

.

Mindy, Chad and I were sitting across the street outside the coffee shop watching Evan and Y/n. Mindy peering through binoculars as Chad was scarfing down French fries.

"This feels weird."

Mindy shrugged. "Weirder than being one of the new final girls to a real life horror movie?"

I quirked an eyebrow. "How do you know I'm one of the new final girls?"

Chad chuckled as Mindy smirked. "Cause you're still a virgin."

I felt my jaw drop. "How do you know I haven't had sex?!"

Mindy scoffed. "Oh please it's obvious in the way Evan keeps dropping hints at every party." She dropped her voice. "Hey babe let's head upstairs...this party's too noisy wanna go somewhere more quiet?" She wiggled her eyebrows.

Chad started making kissing faces at me as the two continued laughing I rolled my eyes turning back to the coffee shop.

"Fuck the both of you."

3rd Person POV

Tara's phone chimed the text coming from an unknown number.

Never split up.

She looked at Chad and Mindy still preoccupied with their teasing, both growing serious when she showed them the message. They'd looked around before looking back to the coffee shop only seeing Y/n cleaning the counter.

"Suspicious." Mindy muttered.

"That doesn't prove anything."

Mindy shrugged standing up with her brother.

.

.

.

A few blocks over Kirby and Sam were watching her boyfriend David who was sitting in the library taking notes. They sat in Sam's car as time had passed.

Kirby trying to use her Bluetooth as she played with the car radio making Sam smack her hand.

"Seriously?!"

"What? This is boring and I need something to pass the time!" Sam scoffed.

"Sorry people dying is so boring." Kirby glared.

"Technically this shit started with you so how do I know you're not having some psychotic break and the actual murderer?!"

"Fuck you Kirby!" The girl pushed her in her seat.

"No fuck you Sam this shit all started because of your bat shit crazy daddy!" She pushed back and soon the girls were fighting in their seats the car rocking as they did so. A door handle was snatched open as Sam was pulled out Kirby's nose bleeding as she went to apply pressure.

"Fuck you Sam you're on your own!"

"Don't come crying to me when you're next!"

Strong arms held Sam down and she'd looked back to find her boyfriend staring at her.

"Not that I'm unhappy to see you but what the fuck is going on?"

Sam sighed trying to think of an excuse. She couldn't trust anyone especially if it meant risking her sisters life.

"We were headed here to study when Kirby freaked out on me." She lied through her teeth.

David hugged the girl. "Sorry babe if it helps I always thought she was a little off...but how about you tell me what's actually wrong?"

Sam froze still in his embrace. "What do you mean?"

"Don't come to me when you're next?" The girl shook her head.

"Can we just drop it please?" The man looked into her eyes concern filling his features.

"Ok. Why don't you come into the library with me while I finish my assignment and then we can grab a bite?"

The girl shook her head once again. "I need to get home and check on Tara."

His shoulders sagged in disappointment. "Ok I'll see you later then." He went to kiss her but she turned her cheek.

Sam hastily walked to her car heading back to her apartment alone.

She unlocked the door texting Mindy, Chad and Tara, getting her pajamas together before she stepped into the hot shower.

Steam collecting in the bathroom as her phone chimed.

The apartment door creaked open as black boots took calculated steps further into the apartment.

Sam's phone rang again as she began washing her hair eyes closed, a deep sigh leaving her body as she fell deep in thought.

Chad and Mindy had gone across the street to check in with the baristas as Tara (who was believed to be invincible apparently) stayed back to watch if anyone would leave when he did.

"Hey uhh y/n right?" The girl looked up nodding.

"What's up Chad?" The boys eyebrows furrowed.

"How do you know my name?" The girl narrowed her eyes.

"Maybe I stereotyped you and actually got it right. Or I have ears and you're one of the loudest customers ever. Or I have eyes and I noticed you're one of Tara's friends, or maybe I have common sense and can read the name tag on your shirt." The girl glanced at his blue polo his eyes following where low and behold his name tag was. He chuckled sheepishly as his sister laughed.

"So I'll ask again what's up Chad?"

"Where's Evan?" Mindy asked.

"In the bathroom." Chad nodded.

"Mind if I check?" The girl tilted her head to the side.

"Is there a reason you're asking a lot of questions?" The boy puffed out his chest as his sister spoke up again.

"There a reason you're not answering them?" The two stared at each other before the (y/h/c) pointed.

"Down the hall to the right." She went back to counting the money in the register.

Chad and Mindy walked to the bathroom, the body builder going in by himself slowly opening the door.

"Evan?" Chad opened one door slowly.

Empty.

He went to the next stall again opening the door slowly.

Empty.

He peaked down to see black boots in the last stall praying it was the Tara's scrawny boyfriend.

"Ev-" he was cut off by a scream.

"Dude what the fuck?!" Evan was sat on the toilet phone in hand.

"Shit sorry." Chad closed the door walking back out to Mindy. "He's in there."

The two heard a slam and the doors bell ringing.

"Tara!" They ran out to an empty counter. Y/n standing next to her before they got on her bike.

"Get away from her!" The two were unheard over the motorcycles engine as the bike zoomed down the street.

Y/n swerved through traffic as Tara held tight palms sweating as they raced to her apartment. As soon as the bike stopped Tara ran.

Upstairs Sam had just finished her shower drying off and wiping the mirror before seeing none other than Billy Loomis in her reflection.

"You can't outrun the past kid." She closed her eyes counting to ten before reopening them. The all too familiar Ghostface standing right behind her knife raised and ready to strike when they both heard a scream.

"Sam!" Sam pushed Ghostface as she attempted to run out the bathroom the dark figure grabbing her before she slammed her fist into their abdomen cause them to bend over.

She kicked their head making them fall as she ran.

"Tara!" Her sister came up grabbing her and running out of the apartment. "They're inside the apartment!" The two continued to run before they hit a hard body.

"Woah! Y'all good?" Both Tara and her sister looked to see Y/n disheveled.

Sam's eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here?"

Y/n held her hands up as Tara spoke.

"She gave me a ride. I panicked when I got a text."

"What was it?" Tara went to her phone showing Sam the picture of her in the shower eyes closed and washing her hair.

Now you see her...

"How do I know she didn't send that?" Sam again glaring at the barista, who scoffed.

"Why would I give her a ride if I sent that?"

"There's always more than one killer!" The (y/h/c) looked at the woman confused.

"What?"

"Sam it wasn't her."

"Tara you don't-"

"I was watching her. She's Evans coworker."

Both heads turned to her as a blush grew over her face.

"She was wiping down the counters at the shop, Chad and Mindy went to find Evan."

"Tara!" Mindy, Evan and Chad ran in, the boy already sizing up y/n. He quickly took off his jacket wrapping it around Sam.

"Are you ok?" Sam nodded eyes still on Y/n who huffed.

"To be fair you're buying the "killer" in your apartment more time to escape so if you want to point fingers and name accomplices you should put yourself at the top of the list."

The six quickly walked over to the apartment , Tara having already called the police who were on the way there, Chad grabbing a nearby lamp turning the corner only to find it empty. The curtains blowing form the open window.

They looked down to see no one.

Y/n chuckled darkly shaking her head.

"I'm out of here. Glad you're ok."

Tara watched the taller girl leave making Mindy look at her with an eyebrow raised.

"So Tara's boyfriend may check out what about yours Sam?" Evans eyebrows shot up.

“Wait I’m a suspect?” Everyone ignored him.

"He was at the library and still is I have his location."

"And what happened with Kirby?"

"We got into a fight."

Mindys head tilted. "About?"

"She called me a psychotic murderer and I broke her nose."

Chads eyes widened as he started grinning. "Hell yeah Sam!" He held his hand up for a high five making everyone stare at him.

"What?"

3rd Person POV

Twenty some minutes later, Kirby was still making the long walk back to her apartment. She pinched her nose attempting to stop the bleeding Samantha fucking Loomis had caused. Fuck!

Fuck her and her crazy fucking father!

Fuck Ghostface and everything to do with Stab.

Just fuck!

Her phone rang and she answered not even bothering to look at the caller ID assuming it was Sam calling to apologize.

"If this is an apology it's gonna take a lot of liquor, food, and begging."

"Oh Kirby don't you know you should never split up in scary movies?"

Her body froze paralyzed with fear. That familiar voice causing a lump to grow in her throat her eyes darting around as she began to walk faster.

"What the fuck do you want from me? Wasn't murdering my friends enough?"

"Now Kirby everyone loves a good sequel and what better way than to bring back a fan favorite? Now how about we play a little game?"

"How about you fuck off?" Ghostface chuckled.

"Wrong answer." From behind a dumpster the cloaked figure went to stab Kirby who ducked making them fall over her. She stepped on their chest knocking the air out of the killer before trying to run to the nearest bar. She was still far from her destination but the woman was determined to live.

A sharp tug on her jacket sent her flying backwards as the masked figure went to stab her. She rolled away trying to crawl when they went to grab her again. Her boot kicking the killer square in the face making it fall slightly off the killers face. Gloved hands went to fix this giving Kirby the opportunity to run.

She began banging on the windows of a coffee shop.

"Help! Help! There's someone trying to kill me!"

The barista looked up pulling the girl inside quickly before trying to lock the door. Hands shaking as Kirby began dialing 9-1-1 and just as the lock was about to be secured Ghostface appeared going to stab her saviors hand. The killer banged on the window once tilting his head slightly before walking around.

The taller girl running to the back to lock that door as well as they went to barge in.

"RUN!" She yelled to the blonde who was still on the phone. Ghostface had pushed the door open forcing the girl down and going to chase Kirby but was stopped by a hand on his ankle. He stabbed the arm attached to it making Y/n yell. She still didn't let go as she tried to help the blonde. They stabbed her shoulder twice before kicking her knocking her unconscious. A mop to the back of their head distracting him. He turned to find Kirby who hit them again and again sending them to the floor. A siren drawing closer making the killer run.

Kirby kneeling down and applying pressure to her new friends wounds as the police burst in.

[satansapostle6]

X

Josh Futturman has always had a crush on his beautiful coworker, the sharp, sexy scientist he thought he could only dream of talking to.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Sexual content.

Part Nine

Part Ten: Futturman Men

When Josh and Brynne finally emerged from the bathroom at Josh’s parents’ Christmas party, Brynne had cleaned up and neatly clipped her hair into a makeshift French twist with a clip she’d had in her purse. When she and Josh awkwardly left the bathroom, they ignored Josh’s Uncle Barry standing outside the door as they rejoined the party.

Naturally, everyone else was perfectly fine apart from Barry. Josh had no idea why, but his father’s younger brother had something up his ass the entire night. Throughout the rest of the dinner, he couldn’t decide between giving Josh a smoldering death glare, and looking Brynne up and down.

Josh without a doubt would have much rather he just given him the death glare the entire time. That, he could’ve handled, without being too bothered for the rest of the night. But now that Barry’s middle-aged male bitterness was affecting his date, Josh felt compelled to interfere, despite his usual, pacifist nature.

“Brynne, it’s so impressive to me that you’re the head of your department,” Diane Futturman expressed graciously, “I’m sorry if I’m being redundant…”

Normally his mother’s behavior would’ve made him nervous, but Josh was aware he had other family members to worry about at the moment.

“No, not at all, Diane,” Brynne chuckled, “You’re so sweet. Really. Josh told me his family was friendly, but this is beyond anything that I was expecting. Thank you so much, for having me.”

“Any time, Brynne,” Josh’s father chimed in, “You’ll always have a place in the Futturman house.”

Brynne smiled genuinely as they continued to discuss her work with her, with Barry trying to scoot his chair even closer to her.

“You’re really a doctor?” Barry interrupted.

Diane and Gabe both looked at him in horror as the Senecas awkwardly sat there, trying to figure out how to process what they’d just heard. Josh was livid, his knuckles pale as he gripped his fork for dear life. He’d never felt like this towards someone before, but in that moment, he wanted to throw the fork at Barry.

“Yes, I’m a doctor of science,” Brynne tried her best to be cordial.

Josh glanced over at her urgently, trying to get her attention so that she knew he didn’t intend for this to happen.

“I’m so sorry,” he mouthed apologetically.

But Brynne just shrugged it off, not particularly affected by the ramblings of his drunk uncle.

“Doctors are hot,” Barry Futturman belched.

Melinda Seneca frowned awkwardly as she glanced down at her plate. Josh’s parents were growing increasingly worried about Barry as he sat there, half-eating his food, almost too far gone to continue.

“I take it you’re a Patrick Dempsey fan?” Brynne smiled through the annoyance.

“Ha-ha!” Diane forced a cheerful laugh so as to try and move the conversation along. “Brynne, honey, you’re hilarious! You should have your own stand-up show!”

Unfortunately, Barry didn’t take the hint.

“Say, you do prostate exams?” he grinned, taking a sip of his drink.

“Barry,” Gabe warned, trying his best to remain polite in front of the guests. “Why don’t you have more potatoes?”

“I don’t want potatoes, Gabe,” he responded, looking over at Brynne beside him. “I wanna know how your pansy son managed to score, twice, with this stacked Amazon!”

Everyone at the table was speechless. Both of Josh’s parents looked like they had seen ghosts, as the Senecas began to look more and more like hostages.

“Barry!” Gabe exclaimed. “Don’t be crude!”

“You know what’s crude?” the balding man said with a mouthful, not even swallowing before adding more whiskey to the equation. “What these two were doing upstairs, and in the bathroom!”

Diane gasped as she buried her face in her hands out of embarrassment at her brother-in-law’s behavior.

“Barry, that’s it, you are cut off!” Gabe said sternly, trying to take control of the situation.

“Oh, yeah, I’m cut off?” Barry challenged him mockingly.

“Shut up,” Josh said through his teeth, tired of the inappropriate display.

“Gabe, will you tell my nephew that if he disrespects me one more time, I’m gonna—”

“No, Barry, if you disrespect Brynne one more fucking time, you’re out of here!” Josh promised him.

“You can’t kick me out!” Barry scoffed. “This isn’t even your house—”

“Shut the fuck up!” Josh shouted.

Brynne looked at him in bewilderment, surprised at this side of him.

Barry started to rant. “Don’t you fucking tell me to shut up, this used to be my house—!”

Gabe Futturman rose in anger, as even Diane seemed concerned.

“This is the Futturman house, and if you speak about any of our guests that way one more time, you can go ahead and see yourself out!”

This might not have seen like a particularly intense display of anger, but for Gabe, it was definitely something unexpected. Josh looked up at his father proudly, glad to have some back up in the situation. Brynne just looked over at him, gauging his emotions the entire time.

“Fuck you guys!” Barry shouted incoherently. “You all think you’re better than me—”

”We don’t fucking think we’re better than you, Barry, we just think it’s beyond weird that you’re trying to hit on my date, who’s, like, half your age,” Josh assured him.

“I’m not ‘hitting on’ anyone—!”

“Yes you are,” Josh said impatiently, “And it’s disgusting, no wonder your wife left you—”

“Oh, really?!” Barry yelled. “You’re gonna talk about my divorce, when your fucking date looks like she used to have a—”

Loud gasps cut through the silence as Josh impulsively threw a glass of water on his uncle’s face, liquid spilling everywhere as he stood there, a blank expression on his face. Josh was mortified as he realized what he’d done.

“What the fuck?!” Barry yelled, slowly wiping his face.

“I—” Josh was stunned, still holding the glass of water as he stuttered fearfully, trying to come up with an explanation as he set the glass down.

He turned to his mother, somewhat horrified by the scene that he’d caused.

“Mom,” he began, “I’m sorry—”

“No, Josh,” Gabe interrupted adamantly, “Futturman men stand up for their women. You have nothing to apologize for.”

Josh saw the look of pride in his father’s eyes, silently nodding as he understood. Brynne stood beside him, gently taking his hand as she led him away.

“Come on,” she said under her breath as they both silently decided to go back upstairs.

“You… did you really just do that for me?” Brynne Johansson asked softly.

“I…” Josh paused for a moment as he sat down on his bed, looking up at her with wide eyes. “Yeah. I guess I did,” he said somewhat sheepishly.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she smiled. “I could’ve ignored him.”

“That’s not the point,” he said chivalrously. “The things he said were deplorable, and I had to do something.”

“Well. I appreciate the gesture,” she told him, taking his hands as he smiled up at her gratefully.

Josh had no idea what a woman like her wanted with him, but he was glad she seemed satisfied with him so far.

“I’m really sorry this night has been so horrible to you,” he sighed frustratedly.

“What makes you say that?” she wondered.

“I don’t know, the office party?” he reminded her. “And now, this?”

“Josh,” Brynne said, expression serious. “Tonight was not horrible for me.”

“It wasn’t?” he asked skeptically.

“No,” she promised him. “We went on a nice date, and… we did some things that were really nice, and some things that were even nicer.”

Josh smiled at her kindness toward him, and surprisingly, she leaned in to kiss him, lips pressed against his as he gladly reciprocated. It was still surreal to him, kissing the one woman he had only ever dared to stare at in the hallways. He was kissing her, and holding her, and he smelled the heavenly scent that surrounded her body.

She was beautiful, perfect, and he melted as he felt her giggle into the kiss.

“What?” he asked with a smile, embarrassed.

“Nothing,” she murmured. “It was just hilarious watching you dump that glass of water on Barry’s face.”

Josh chuckled bashfully as he kissed her.

“I would’ve punched him in the face if I could,” he promised her, starting to realize that wasn’t the most masculine choice. “I’m sure that was kinda silly,” he admitted.

“No,” she promised him, deepening the kiss, “It was sexy…”

Josh sighed as she made his heart skip a beat.

-

Part Eleven

[crappymixtape]

you're never far behind • part one

when your dad calls and needs your help at home in hawkins you can't say no, but when you arrive back in town you uncover a friendship you thought you'd lost a long time ago | ( 6.2k, angst, tiny fluffies, best friends to strangers to friends to lovers, steve x reader, steve x you )

Y O U ‘ R E N E V E R F A R B E H I N D 🎶 long time, wild rivers

“Was so good of you to come, hon. It’s a lot for your dad to do on his own, especially on delivery days. Can’t lie, sure is nice to see your face around again too! Need a warm up?”

“Please? Thanks, Georgie.”

“Sure thing, sweets.”

Steam lifted from the mug on the counter in front of you as Georgie filled it with more hot coffee. The diner still looked the same as it had when you’d left four years ago. Black and white checkered tiles, worn red plastic seat tops sparkling dully in the florescent lighting from above, the smell of french fries and Georgie’s perfume mingling in the air.

You’d arrived home, home in Hawkins, the night before and had only been to the diner and the post office, but people were already talking about it. Word got around fast. Your dad had been stubborn about it at first, but after he knocked over a couple of shelves in the shop he knew he was in over his head.

He owned the only bookstore in town, Turn A Page, for the last twenty years and took pride in the fact that he didn’t need any help doing it. But then he broke his leg falling off a ladder in the front yard trying to clean out the gutters and it took him a full week to call you.

“Hello?”

“Hey, scout. It’s me, doin’ okay?”

“Dad, yeah I’m good. Just finishing up a few things for a deadline. Everything okay down there?”

Silence.

Your dad was never quiet, so you knew it wasn’t good.

“Dad,” your tone was flat, firm, uninterested in bullshit and he hummed for a second longer, buying himself a bit more time, but gave in when he heard you suck in an anticipatory breath.

“It’s fine! It was just a little tumble. Cleaning out the damn gutters is a mess, but the x-rays came back showing a clean break, which is great news by the way! And I’ll only need crutches for a couple of months–”

“A clean break? X-Rays? Dad! C’mon, what the hell?”

“I didn’t want to worry you, I’m really fine down here. It’s just that, you know crutches, they’re kind of clumsy and hard to get the hang of and–and I bumped into one of the shelves at the shop and well…”

“And well?” you pushed, heart dropping from your throat after realizing it wasn’t as bad as you’d thought.

“Well, I hate to ask you. To be a burden, your old dad…”

“Dad,” you softened a bit, holding the receiver to your ear as you twisted the cord around your finger, waiting for him to just spit it out.

“Think you could come down for a month? Just to help me around the shop, get things set up for my stupid crutches? Maybe help me interview someone to putter around and do the stuff I can’t do just yet?”

“Yes. Of course I can. Dad, I really wish you’d ask someone else to come do the gutters. It’s not like you’re gonna all of a sudden need hearing aids or a walker just because you’re asking for some help.”

“Hey now, I manage just fine on my own. I raised you by myself, gutters ought to be a damn cake walk.”

You huffed a small laugh and shook your head, leaning against the wall in your kitchen, “Yeah, yeah. I know. You’re lucky I never take vacations.”

“And what a trip, huh? Come stay down here in Hawkins for a month and maybe you’ll wanna stay this time,” you could hear his smile on the other end as you let out a small groan.

“I doubt it, but I’ll hear your pitch when I get down there.”

“Perfect. It’ll be good enough you won’t even have any questions at the end.”

“Mmhm.”

Silence again, but this time it was warm. Like you were sitting next to your dad on the old brown couch in the living room back home watching Family Ties and eating microwave whatevers while you laughed so hard you cried. Maybe you did miss it a little.

“Okay, dad. I gotta go, I’ll catch the bus down after I let work know.”

“Thanks, bub. I really do appreciate it.”

“It’s okay, I want to.”

“Alright. You know I love you.”

“Yeah, love you too.”

“You headed over to the shop? Can I send you with a coffee and cinnamon roll for the boss?” Georgie asked with a sweet smile, her long earrings dangling just below her jawline as she turned toward the pastry case.

“He doesn’t need anymore sugar, Georgie,” you chided, but your tone didn’t hold any heat as the older woman turned back around, cinnamon roll boxed up tidy in one hand and a to-go cup of black coffee in the other.

You leveled her with a look, but the smile tugging at the corners of your lips gave you away. “Fine. But maybe make some croissants or something with less–” you waved your hand toward the sticky-sweet-frosting-coated rolls in the case, “–well, just less.” Both of you started laughing and Georgie gave you a wink.

“Okay, sure. I’ll see what I can whip up.”

“His heart thanks you,” you sighed, shaking your head and getting up from the counter. “I’ll be back tomorrow I’m sure,” leaving some cash on the counter you shouldered open the door, bell jingling brightly above you, and stepped out onto main street.

The sun was out, warming everything in the bright early morning light. You could already feel how it wanted to heat up, wanted to make your skin feel too hot and bright. Pink and red like ripe strawberries, wanted to kiss it and dot new freckles along your nose and cheeks. The ones you’d hated when you were younger, but liked now for whatever reason and even though it was September, summer was clinging on a bit longer refusing to let go, and down town was buzzing with activity. People were bustling around getting ready for the day, shops opening and setting out their signs on the sidewalk, pulling people in to browse and seek refuge in the late afternoon heat.

After the old antiques place closed up next to Family Video your dad was quick to jump on it and lease the space, seeing the potential it had and wanting to put action to his passion for books.

He and your mom divorced when you were young, too young to understand or ask questions or get lost in the whys and the only memory you had of her was a glowing, glittering thing. Dark, tight curls and lavender, eyes warm like burnt caramel, hugs pulled close and while you don’t remember you were at least thankful that it was a happy one.

Growing up you swore that love was real, swore you’d find someone to sweep you off your feet like they did in all those Disney movies, but as time spun on you realized that maybe love was a story people told themselves as a distraction. Like looking through magazines full of pictures of places far, far away and telling yourself someday you’d visit when you knew you really wouldn’t. Your dad, despite his own history, felt differently.

He thought love was a wonderful, all-consuming thing that wrapped itself around you like hot cocoa after being out in the snow. A beautiful give and take. Terrifying honesty and openness that would set you free once you surrendered and even though he had remained single after your mom he still believed it.

“Morning, bub! Oh coffee, thank god. And a cinnamon roll? Remind me to stop by the diner on the way home, Georgie’s a sweetheart.”

“Yeah well, I told her you don’t need anymore of this,” you said, shoving the box at him from across the front counter, “Or broken bones won’t be your only worry.”

“Hey, now. Let me have this,” he grumbled back, taking a drink of his coffee, but then his expression softened as realization came over him. “Ah, I forgot to tell you. It’s game night, so we’ll close up shop and just head over to the high school after,” he said casually, opening up the register.

“Game night?” you started, worried there was some weekly canasta game he’d failed to tell you about, but he laughed and waved you off.

“Game night. Basketball. You know, round orange ball? Throw it into a hoop?”

You firmed your lips into a line and rolled your eyes. “Yes. Okay. I get it. Are we cheering on anyone specific?” you asked expectantly, tossing your bag behind the counter, taking your name tag from the drawer and pinning it on your shirt.

“No, but if we didn’t go we’d be a disgrace to the whole community,” he stated very matter-of-factly and you shook your head.

“Okay, okay. Game night. Great, can’t wait.”

“Listen, I’ll buy us popcorn and soda and do the whole thing. Just like you’re back in high school,” he bribed and you looked at him skeptically over your shoulder.

“I don’t want to be back in high school.”

“C’mon, it wasn’t that bad was it? Besides, we’ll see a couple of your old friends I’m sure.”

“Friends?” you felt your stomach flip over at the sudden rush of memories that flooded your mind right there on the spot.

Red licorice, filling the van with hazy smoke, juice too sweet and mixed with bad vodka, late nights floating weightless in pools while the moon hung overhead.

“Yeah,” your dad’s face scrunched up in thought, digging for names, and when it finally hit him he jabbed a finger at you. “Eddie Munson for one! He’s around here. And that Buckley girl, she manages Family Video now and…” his eyes lifted to the ceiling, thinking, and then, “Oh! God, I need more coffee. Steve, Steve Harrington. He took the coaching job last year. Best one we’ve had in a long time.”

Steve.

Steve Harrington.

Your brain felt like it had disconnected from reality. Like it was scrambling to try and figure out what exactly your dad had just told you and the look on your face was apparently making that all too obvious.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I just thought you’d like to–”

“No! No that’s great,” you cut him off, trying to give him a big smile and thankfully he took it as you turned around to face the bookshelf again, “Can’t wait to catch up.”

Everything was a mixture of cheers and boos and the clock buzzing and the slap of the ball on the court and you tried to ground yourself in it all, but it felt like you were drowning. It was so familiar, but so foreign and as you watched the kids on the other side of the court you tried to remember what it was like. Laughing with each other or sneaking booze into paper soda cups or not caring at all being attached at the face in the stands.

You might have been able to get a grip on shit, might have waded through the night just fine, but there was something else that held you tight like a vice.

Messy brown hair, moles and freckles like tiny constellations scattered across his skin, the same old dirty pair of Blazers on his feet, the curve of his mouth, the way he propped his hand on his hip.

Steve.

Your best friend.

Was your best friend.

You knew you should’ve been watching the game, should’ve been paying attention so that you could hold at least a semi-decent conversation the next morning in the shop, but you couldn’t pull your eyes away.

Coach Harrington.

Was he the same as he’d been before you’d left? Smug and cocky, but all warm and soft underneath. Shotgunning a beer one minute and holding your hand tight and close in his the next. Singing loud enough in the car his voice cracked and broke until he fell apart into laughter and looked over at you with those eyes. Burnt caramel, warm honey, flecks of gold and green and deep and–

“Hell of a game! My god, paper’ll have a heck of an article tomorrow,” your dad’s voice shook you back to reality and when you looked back up at the scoreboard the time read 00:00.

“Yeah, yeah damn. Great game,” you laughed weakly and tried to smile at your dad, eyes flicking back over to the sidelines to see Steve and the rest of the team were gone. Because of course they were. The game was over.

“Well. Don’t feel like you gotta come straight home,” your dad said, giving your arm a squeeze, “I know you probably wanna catch up with your friends.”

“Dad–” you started, brows furrowing together as you pinched the bridge of your nose between your fingers, “I really don’t feel like we’re friends, it’s been years since–”

“Oh don’t be silly, time doesn’t matter,” he waved a hand dismissively at you and stood from the bench, a crutch under each arm, “Just go say hi already. Scaredy cat.”

“Excuse me–” you protested, offense all over your face as you got ready to dig into him, but it stalled on your lips as you heard the metal slam of a door across the gym. It was a knee jerk reaction to look up and as you did you wished you hadn’t.

Your eyes met Steve’s, his faded navy baseball hat working overtime to contain all that hair, and while it was only for a split second it felt like a lifetime. You’d been thinking all night about what you were going to do, what you’d say, and maybe you secretly hoped he’d give you a smile but you were met with something worse.

Indifference.

Not so much as a smile or a nod or half-hearted wave, his lips in a firm line, or was it a grimace? It couldn’t be, but then he was looking away and shoving open the gym door into the parking lot.

“Excuse you–” your dad retorted, but when you didn’t sass him back he waved a hand across your eye line. “Hey, you in there?”

“What?” fell out lamely and your head whipped back around.

“You were about to take me to school on something, but…” he drifted off, eyes flicking up to the door Steve had just left through.

“Oh, I just mean–it’s just–it’s been so long. You know? They’re probably busy and–”

“Bub, you don’t know until you try. You’re gonna want someone your own age to talk to while you’re in town. Look, I’m already driving you nuts,” he laughed and reached over to give your shoulder a little poke.

Rolling your eyes you jammed your hands into your pockets and jerked your head toward the door, “C’mon old man. You can drive me nuts at home.”

“Alright,” he chuckled and clumsily followed after, still getting the hang of his crutches. “But promise me you’ll get out every now and again while you’re here? Please?”

Looking down at the old gym floor covered in scuffs and dents and dings you sighed. Was this the wrong decision? Should you have stayed home? Just sent someone else to help out? “Okay. Sure. I promise,” you murmured opening the door for your dad and walking out into the night.

The next morning you were up again early, throwing on a pair of jeans and a band tee, Chucks beat up and snug on your feet. The exact opposite of what you were supposed to wear to work back in the city, but it was a surprisingly welcome change. No presentations to creative leadership, no manuscripts to screen, no deadlines and no phone on your desk ringing off the hook. Just the smell of books, the lilt of the bell on the door and too much time to think.

Think about last night. About how you still had nearly a month left in Hawkins. Had no idea how you were going to spend it and no idea why god’s name you were still thinking about him.

About Steve.

About the look, or non-look, he’d given you.

And while you couldn’t blame him, it didn’t make it sting any less.

Hand on your closet door you moved to shut it, but your eyes caught a flash of red. A box on the top shelf. You’d taken most everything with you when you moved to Indianapolis for college, but had apparently missed that.

Pulling it down you blew the dust off the top of it and lifted the lid slowly to find a pile of forgotten memories looking up at you. Throat tightening, a flood of unexpected emotions poured over you, wrapping themselves snug and warm around your heart.

Polaroids of a younger version of yourself grinning up through the frame, joint dangling from your lips, a pair of sunglasses perched on your nose. One of Steve and Eddie mid-jump into the quarry on the hottest day in July. Robin laughing, cheeks stuffed too-full with grapes on a dare to see how many she could fit in her mouth. Nancy’s tiny frame enveloped by Jonathan’s big arms, his hand outstretched to block the lens, both of them grinning like mad.

You felt a small laugh fall from your lips as you gently set the box on your bed, gathering the polaroids up and setting them aside to find more things at the bottom. An old half-smoked joint stub, a lighter, a button with “Nancy for President!” on it, movie tickets and a couple pieces of popcorn, an old Family Video name tag, and something bright hiding under a pair of 3D glasses. Reaching in, your fingers softly lifted it from the box.

Tiny little strings of thread twisted together in a messy braid. Your three favorite colors, purple, green and pink tangled together in a promise you’d made Steve all those summers ago and you felt your chest squeeze. Guilt. Regret.

“God, I’m terrible at this, it looks like shit,” Steve grumbled, tongue poking out between his lips in concentration as he tried to braid his strings together.

Both of you were sat on the floor of your room, knee to knee with your back against your bed, radio playing Pet Shop Boys in the background. The last rays of sunlight fell through your window and danced across the bare skin of your legs, fan on the ceiling pushing too-warm air around the room.

“It doesn’t look like shit, it’s fine–” you tried for reassurance, but the small smile playing on your lips gave you away.

“Fine. That’s not ‘good’ or ‘great’. It makes it sound like–” Steve started to protest, but then he glanced over to see your fingers deftly twisting together his favorite colors – yellow, blue and orange. “Christ, yes it does look like shit! Look at yours, are you kidding me?” he flung a hand out for emphasis and you let out a laugh.

“Shut up! I’ve been doing this since second grade or something stupid, cut yourself a break,” you reached across your lap to shove him, expression softening as he shook his head.

“No, no way. You can’t wear this. People will ask what idiot tried to make you a dumb friendship bracelet in the dark with two left hands,” and he started to ball it up, but your hands covered his, head dipping down to look at him properly.

“Steve, it’s not about what it looks like,” you chided gently and he huffed a sigh, but you gave him a little smile, “Best friends forever, right?”

“Best friends forever,” he mumbled back, your little motto, but when he looked up at you his frown softened.

Silence lingered then for a moment between the two of you, his eyes still looking into yours as you floated in the soft light that filled your room, your hands pressing into each other. The last bits of sun and summer holding you tight in its warmth.

Steve’s lips parted as he stared at you, the look in his eyes making you feel like all the air had been pulled from your lungs, like your room had fallen away and all that existed in that moment was you and Steve.

“D’you have to go?” he murmured.

“I–” you stuttered, suddenly unsure of your answer, waffling on what had been such a sure decision just a few of months ago. To get out of Hawkins. To find something new. Something away from Steve and leave all of this behind.

“Just stay.”

“Steve…” your voice was barely above a whisper, eyes looking and searching his as he untangled a hand from yours and settled it gently on your cheek.

“Stay,” he whispered and as he leaned in slow and steady you swore time stood still, his lips pressing into yours, warm and soft like they held summer and promises of forever.

“Didja fall in up there? Cos if you did, I can’t climb the stairs to help you, bub,” you sucked in a gasp, your dad’s voice pulling you out of the spiral you’d fallen into, tears welling up at the corners of your eyes. Hastily wiping your arms across your face you tossed the bracelet back into the box and shut the lid, shoving it back up on the shelf you’d found it on.

“Yeah! Sorry, just trying to find my other shoe,” you lied, voice wobbling a little as you hurried over to your dresser mirror to make sure you didn’t look like you’d been crying.

“Alright, meet you at the car!” he called up the stairs and you took in a breath, trying to steady yourself.

“It’s fine. You’re fine,” you whispered to your reflection.

And somehow you’d managed to gather yourself together before hopping into your rental car, driving you and your dad down the road to the diner for coffee before work. The sun was out again, but it didn’t hold as much heat as it had the day before and you opted to open the windows instead of cranking the AC.

“You sure you want it hot?” you asked your dad, shifting into park at the curb.

“Yes, I’m sure. Coffee is brewed hot, why would you cool it down?” he shot back indignantly and you huffed a laugh.

“Alright, no one’s judging, I just–” shutting your door you poked your head in through the window, “–it’s gonna be warm again today. Cold is nice sometimes!”

“Hot, please!” your dad yelled after you as you pulled the diner door open, waving him off with a dismissive hand.

“Mornin’, hon! The usual?” Georgie greeted you warmly, earrings dangling past her jawline and bright in the light from the windows.

“Yes, please, but make mine cold if you can?”

Saddling up at the counter, your fingers idly flipped the plastic pages of one of the menus while you waited, the sound of bacon sizzling in the kitchen. It was odd, the comfort this place offered you, but it was needed this morning and you settled into it easily like a warm hug. Like seeing an old friend and you were so content you didn’t hear the bell on the door ring behind you, but the voice that followed was louder than your heart pounding against your ribcage.

“Gigi! Need a coffee and bacon, egg on toast to-go this morning.”

You nearly fell off your stool to hide under the bar, but opted instead to be an adult and hide your face behind your arm, propping an elbow on the counter and tossing your gaze off in the opposite direction.

“Stevie! Lord have mercy, that game gave me a couple of new gray hairs,” the older woman teased playfully and the laugh he gave back made your stomach flip over.

“Sorry, we’ll do better next time, promise.”

“Good, you better. S’on me this morning.”

“G, you don’t have to do that–”

“Yes, I do! Don’t you fight me on that, I’ve got a mean south paw.”

Steve laughed again and you wanted to die as he sat on the stool one over from you, drumming his fingers on the counter and shaking his head, “Okay, okay. You win.”

“That’s right. I do,” and Georgie busied herself with getting his coffee, barking back his order to the cooks just as yours came through the bus window.

Shit. No way to leave undetected now.

“Alright, sweets. Here’s your dad’s coffee and I had Hal whip up a little whole wheat toast with scrambled eggs. Better than a cinnamon roll?” Georgie gave you a very pleased look and you felt like you were going to collapse in on yourself as you moved your hand away from your face to take the two coffees and box of food.

“Thanks, Georgie,” you mumbled sheepishly, keeping your eyes straight ahead, but you could feel him looking at you.

Clearing your throat you left a wad of cash on the counter before turning to leave, looking everywhere except that damn stool. You made it halfway to the door before his voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Thought that was you.”

Your breath caught in your throat and you wished running out of the diner had been an acceptable response to both the panic rising in your chest and Steve’s clipped tone, but you didn’t and instead turned around to finally face him.

“In the flesh,” you joked lamely and immediately wanted to kick yourself.

He was studying you as though he were looking for something. Eyes still warm like honey, mouth firmed in the same line they’d been pursed into the night before, brows unamused and pulled in at the middle. He didn’t laugh.

“Had enough of the ‘big city’?” he mocked, tongue jamming into his cheek as he watched you uncomfortably shift your feet on the checkered tile floor.

“Yeah, smells worse than cow shit if you can believe it,” you were shocked at how quickly you were thinking on your feet and almost grinned at him, but his reply knocked you down a peg or two.

“I could’ve told you that,” he grumbled, turning in his stool to look back at Georgie, the older woman flicking her eyes back and forth between the two of you like she was watching a tennis match. In fact most everyone else in the diner was watching now and you felt heat rise in your cheeks.

“Well, I’ll be here all month, so knock yourself out,” and before he could throw anything back at you, you hurried out the door to the car and didn’t look back.

The conversation with Steve, if you could even call it that, was all you could think about for the rest of the day and your dad knew something was up, but he didn’t push you on it. You had to go back and fix the books you’d put in the wrong place in your mess of distraction after lunch and when you finally came around the back of the counter to get a drink of what was mostly melted ice now than iced coffee, your dad gently prodded.

“Georgie say anything this morning?”

“Yeah. Said she’s only feeding you whole wheat toast from now on, so get used to it,” you grumbled and he smiled, gently grabbing your hand before you could stalk away to hide in the rows of books.

“Did anything else come up?” he fixed you with an expectant look and you frowned.

“No.”

“No?”

Closing your eyes you loosed a sigh and put your face in your hands. “Everyone here hates me,” came out muffled through your fingers and your dad let out a belly laugh.

“Hates you? Says who?”

“Everyone.”

“Bub, no one hates you,” he reached over to yank your hands away from your face and gave you one of his I’m dad, listen to me looks.

“Easy for you to say, you’re not the one running away from shit,” you argued back, folding your arms tight across your chest and his expression softened.

“Least you came back? I’d say that takes some courage,” he countered, lifting his brows for emphasis and poking you gently with the end of one of his crutches.

You frowned and he laughed again, reaching over to pull you into hug. “Listen. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Most of the time these things are cleared up with a simple conversation,” he said, holding you out at arm’s length.

“Simple conversation? Yeah I don’t think so–”

“You haven’t even tried,” he cut you off and gave you a stern look, “Y’know, I’m not as dumb as I look.”

“I didn’t say that–”

“Promise me you’ll talk to him. Even if it sucks at first, just try it.”

You sharply exhaled a short puff of air through your nose, looking down at the floor not wanting to give in, but you could feel your dad staring holes into you.

“Fine. Fine. I’ll try,” you conceded, kicking a toe into the base of the counter and your dad shoved your shoulder playfully.

“That’s the ticket, and you know I’m always here for advice,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you and you rolled your eyes, a small smile playing on your lips.

“No offense, but no thanks,” you teased, walking back to keep stocking the shelves and he called after you.

“I’m like, twenty-two years older than you are! I know a lot!”

“Sure you do, dad! I’m sure you do.”

Cleared up with a simple conversation.

Sure. Right. Of course. But where were you supposed to even have said conversation? How were you supposed to ask Steve if he wanted to talk? Just waltz up to him on the street and casually see if he wanted to have a sit down with you? There was no way you were going to be able to muster up the courage to approach him at the diner and after that fated morning you made sure to arrive before or after he grabbed his usual 7:30am pick-up.

It wasn’t until you were closing up shop again on Friday that your dad reminded you of the plans you’d made. Well, that Hawkins had made for you.

“Better giddy up, gonna miss tip off,” your dad was digging around in the counter drawer for the keys as you finished sweeping the entryway.

“Tip off?”

“Yeah,” he stopped his search long enough to give you a look and then went back to digging, “Game night.”

Oh, fuck. Right. Game night. Because all of Hawkins shut down at five on Fridays for basketball and god forbid you miss it.

“Think I’ll stay home,” you mumbled, eyes on the floor, but you could feel the judgement your dad was throwing across the shop at you.

“And miss out on quality time with your old man? Before I’m all wrinkly and need an actual wheel chair?”

“That’s not fair,” you flicked your eyes up to frown at him, pointing a finger for emphasis and he grinned.

“You drive, I’m a little–” he shook a crutch at you and it was like you could physically feel yourself giving in.

“As soon as you get rid of those? I’m gone,” you grumbled and he laughed, an Aha! coming from behind the counter as he finally yanked the keys from the drawer.

“Lock up, I’ll start hobbling,” tossing the keys at you, you barely caught them and as soon as his back was turned you stuck out your tongue. What? Maturity is overrated.

The gym was packed. Your dad had failed to mention Hawkins was playing their rival team from the next town over and you tried to get a grip on shit. It took everything in you to not look at Steve as the starting line up was introduced, and you managed somehow, but once the game started you couldn’t help yourself.

Stealing a glance, you felt your pulse flutter against your neck. God he looked good. Same faded navy baseball cap snug over his mess of brown hair, hand propped on his hip as he yelled plays from the sidelines, jaw clenched on the wad of gum in his mouth and you grumbled under your breath, but your heart told a different story as it hammered against your ribs.

You sat with your arms folded across your chest, determined to be unhappy and miserable for the entirety of the game, but somehow every time Hawkins made a three-pointer or nailed all of their free throws after a foul you felt yourself softening until there were only two minutes left. The game was all tied up and you were a screaming mess.

“C’mon!” you yelled, hands cupped around your mouth as you stood up with the rest of the fans, “I can play better than these guys!”

Your dad had to bite back a laugh as he did his best to ignore you, trying not to bring attention to how invested you’d become. The rival team hit another bucket from the three-point line and you groaned along with everyone else, Hawkins down by two with 0:30 on the clock.

The point guard on the other team called a timeout and usually everyone would sit down, but the entire gym was still on their feet, anxious and watching as time ran out quickly.

Steve huddled his team up, gathering them around his clipboard and you craned your neck to try and see what was jotted down, but it was covered up by all the heads in the way. Watching as he talked to the boys you noticed how he was firm, but still soft. Decided, but encouraging, and when the buzzer went off you could just make out what he yelled at the team.

“Remember, it’s not about what it looks like! Long as you’re trying!”

Your breath caught in your throat.

It’s not about what it looks like.

Your words.

And you were so caught up in it all you didn’t hear the crowd when Hawkins hit the last three-pointer to end the game with a win. Didn’t hear your dad cheering next to you so loudly his voice cracked. Didn’t feel the bleachers shaking with all the jumping and bustling about. All you could see was Steve and as the team rushed him after the win he looked up and met your gaze, a flicker of a smile twitching at the corners of his lips.

“A photo finish, scout!” your dad grabbed your shoulder, other hand throwing a fist into the air, “Good game, boys!”

“Oh,” fell out, the sound of everything rushing back in against your eardrums, and you quickly put your fingers to your mouth to whistle, “Good game, Tigers!”

“Still don’t have to come home right away,” your dad was looking back over at you with a knowing smile on his face, “Georgie’ll give me a ride.”

You bit in your bottom lip, wishing you were unsure of what you wanted, but your eyes looked over at Steve and you knew what your answer was going to be.

Simple conversation.

“Yeah. Alright. I’ll stay, but don’t get too excited,” you grumbled, cramming your hands into the pockets of your jeans as the gym started to clear out.

“Great! I mean–cool,” your dad tried to recover, tried to not sound too excited, but his outburst gave him away. The next look you fixed him with was enough of a cue and he hobbled away after Georgie, making his way out with the rest of the crowd and leaving you there awkwardly in the stands.

Your eyes scanned the gym and couldn’t find Steve, but it was the same as it’d happened last time. He was gone soon as the game finished and then reappeared after a little while. Probably giving the boys a post-game run down or something, so you tried to make yourself look busy.

Reading the plaques on the walls, looking at the Hawkins hall-of-fame jerseys hung up in the rafters, the signed championship balls in cases along the walls, including the one signed by Lucas Sinclair.

A smile pulled at your lips and you put a hand on the glass, reading all the names one at at time, pausing just a little longer at Lucas’ signature. He was always so sweet.

“Taking a stroll down memory lane?” someone spoke up behind you, startling you a bit as you sucked in a gasp, and when you turned around to see who it was you wished you hadn’t.

Steve’s voice was a little less harsh than it’d been earlier in the week, but he still wasn’t smiling as he stood there in the empty gym looking at you like he was trying to dissect things and you felt your chest squeeze.

“High school, the best days of your life,” you mock swooned and he cracked just a tiny bit, the smallest little smirk, and you held onto it. Tucked it into your back pocket and saved it for later.

“Yeah. Bunch of bullshit if you ask me,” he retorted, feeding off your sarcasm and then turned abruptly and walked out the side door.

You stood there for a minute, confused. Didn’t he just agree with you? But then he was poking his head back in through the doorway, looking expectantly at you with those warm, brown eyes.

“Are you coming or…?”

Shit, you muttered and half-jogged to catch up as he disappeared out of view of the door frame.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist

[karaonasi]

Playing Games

🎮🎮🎮

I recently played the Keyframes VN demo and can’t get the character Percy out of my head—well, when Baxter Ward isn’t occupying it.

I’ve been reading the dev blog of Q&A’s to glean what I can about him. So a few days ago I was playing with some ideas about what friendship with him might look like prior to any chance of romance with him.

🎮🎮🎮

“Come in!” came the voice from the one occupied bedroom in the dorm suite. Kimmi let herself in, making her way toward the unmistakable gaming sounds coming from the room with the open door.

“I thought we were gonna study, Pretty Boy,” she teased, setting down her book bag by the door.

Percy braved a glance up from the screen with a bright, flirty smile. “Hey Dutchess. Do we ever study when we make plans to--oh shit!” he returned his attention quickly back to the game.

Kimmi snorted and circled closer so she could get a view of the TV screen. “Going old school, huh Tozaki?” She laughed, watching the screen go red before growing dark. “Shouldn’t you be better at this game by now?”

From the side, she could see his dark eyes roll. “It’s the Legends Edition. So not that old. And I’m trying Insanity Mode.”

“Why?” She asked, climbing onto the bed but far enough to give him some space.

He shrugged though he was still biting his bottom lip in concentration. “Better than studying Organic Chem?”

She laughed. “You got me there. I’ll take PolySci over that any day. Who you planning on romancing?” she asked, changing the subject. She knew there was no way of stopping Percry from procrastinating when he had his mind set on it--no matter how easy-going he pretended to be.

“Mass Effect One: Lia--dammit!” his screen went from red to black again.

She laughed. “Just go normal mode. You know you want the story more than the tactics anyway.”

“And you just want the romances--correction. Romance. Singular, Miss Casual Mode.”

“Yup,” she replied, complete with a pop to her pronunciation of the P.

He sighed. “Fine…” He re-loaded the game and toggled the difficulty setting. “Happy?”

Kimmi smirked. “No. But I would be if~~”

Percy’s eyes rolled a second time. “Fine. Go ahead.”

“Like you hate it,” she teased, scrambling up and kneeling behind him on the bed to play with his hair.

“Ah! That’s better!” he sighed dramatically, leaning back against her.

“I wasn’t volunteering to be your gaming chair, Scooter Boy.”

“Awww, Princess, you should feel blessed to be under me.”

Kimmi let out an undignified snort. “As if, fuq boi.” She smacked him lightly in the back of the head. When he relented and returned to sitting, she repositioned herself, pulling out his hair tie and running her fingers through the shaggy layers of his black hair. She laughed when she noticed the ‘paused” indicator flash on the screen as her companion let out a soft sigh.

“What was I saying again?” he asked as she teased out the edges that framed his face. While he played, they continued to banter about romances: Kimmi teasing him for sleeping his way through the galaxy and Percy teasing her about her faithful devotion to one LI through the series of games. All the while her fingers worked a french braid into her friend’s thick hair.

Until the door opened with a noisy chorus of voices entering the common room of the suite.

“Perse?!” Elios’s voice called out.

“I see Kimmi’s bag, she must be here too,” Deja’s voice added.

Without letting go of the almost-finished braid, Kimmi leaned over his shoulder, flashing an impish grin. “Wanna mess with them?” she murmured just loud enough for him to hear. Percy answered with a mischievous smirk of his own.

“Hurry, get it back on, Babe!” he stage whispered loudly enough for the next room to hear and handed her the hair tie.

“My hands are kinda…busy, Percy,” she said with feigned urgency as she carefully twisted the hair tie around the end of his new braid and gave it a little pat.

“Uh--We’ll be out in a minute!” Percy called out.

The room beyond went silent.

Then broke out into hurried half-whispering.

“Since when have they…um…”

“Do we dare check--”

“No!” Several voices shouted at once.

“I don’t want to know.” That last one was definitely Jamie’s voice.

Kimmi and Percy’s foreheads lightly clunked together as they struggled to keep their laughter silent--which ultimately failed, the two falling over onto the bed in loud peals of mirth…to the great relief of their friends.

Except for Jamie who truly didn’t care one way or the other.

🎮🎮🎮

Find the VN at

And their blog at @blank-house

[em-prentiss]

Golden

Chapter 14: Braiding lessons—Aaron takes up French braiding (unfortunately for Emily)

Word count: 1.6k

Emily rubs her eyes as she waits for the toast to warm up, the chatter of her family behind her slowly drawing her out of sleep. Jack is halfway through telling Aaron about an upcoming field trip and Lucy, apparently, has had enough of her father’s mediocre French-braiding skills.

“Mommy, he’s not doing it right!” She announces in a loud breath, cutting over Jack. 

Emily turns around just in time to see Aaron’s face fall. She bites the inside of her cheek, hiding a smile that’s half exasperated, half amused. 

They’re sitting at the kitchen table, Jack rolling his eyes at the interruption and Aaron’s hands tangled in dark, half-braided hair, the strands slipping through his fingers as Lucy twists to complain to Emily. “It’s impossible.” He grumbles quietly, his brows drawn in a confused frown.

It’s not, and she told him that, which meant he just had to try. 

“He’s trying, baby,” Emily placates, grabbing the toast when it springs up from the toaster. She sets the plate down on the table, the unsophisticated breakfast about all she could manage with her sprained wrist. Emily pours Jack’s apple juice and slides it to him, briefly feeling grateful for his own short hair as he takes it without complaint. When she does the same for her daughter, Lucy barely gives the juice a second glance.

“It’s too loose,” she whines to Emily, her hazel eyes growing shiny beneath the curtain of hair that slipped from the braid. Behind her, Aaron looks like a kicked puppy, his own eyes signaling help. Emily sighs and looks down at her watch; they’re dangerously close to being late.

“Can we just do a ponytail for today, ma belle?” She murmurs, running her fingers through the loose strands around Lucy’s face. Half her hair wilts out of the braid, the other half hopelessly tangled as Aaron sighs and lets go. Emily bites back a smile at the defeated look on his face.

“I don’t wanna ponytail.” Lucy scowls. She looks remarkably like Aaron; the same furrow between their brows, the same stern hazel eyes—a Hotchner staple, it seems.

“Not even one with a bow?” Emily tempts, already moving to stand next to Aaron’s chair, unraveling the braid and slowly de-tangling Lucy’s hair with her fingers. They’d already had this dispute earlier, before Aaron piped up and suggested that he braid Lucy’s hair, claiming he’d seen Emily do it so how hard could it really be?

Apparently, quite.

Lucy pauses. Then, “Auntie Penny’s bows?” 

Emily can practically see the frown lift. She nudges Aaron’s shoulder with her hip, almost tasting their victory. “Yeah. You’ve been wanting to wear that purple one, haven’t you?” She gathers the dark hair into her palm.

When Lucy mumbles something in return, Emily knows this battle is won.

By the time they’re in bed, both Emily and Lucy have forgotten about the fiasco. True to the fickle nature of 6-year-olds, her tantrum was a thing of the past the moment Emily clipped the bow into her hair, her pouted lips rising into a smile. 

It seems, however, one person still remembers.

Aaron sighs into Emily’s hair, his brows still creased. “I don’t like making her upset,” he murmurs.

Emily’s chest grows impossibly warm. Smiling, she reaches a hand up and presses her thumb to the wrinkled skin between his brows. “It’s not the end of the world if she doesn’t get a braid, Aaron.” She whispers, flattening the creases before cupping his face, gently stroking his jaw, “You’re sweet, though.”

When he hums, she feels it in the tips of her fingers. He stays quiet for a beat, thinking, before he whispers, “Think I could try on your hair?” 

Emily scrunches her nose. “On my precious tresses? No, you’ll tangle them up.” She teases, though she knows if Aaron took up braiding, he’d be as meticulous at it as he is in every other aspect of his life.

Probably not at first try, though.

“I won’t,” he promises. “I’ll follow one of those tutorials on YouTube. And you can guide me. Please?” He says earnestly. He turns to kiss her palm. “For Luce.”

Emily hesitates at his sincere tone. God, she hates it when they turn those pleading eyes to her; from Aaron to Jack to Lucy. She never stands a chance. 

With his hair gently hanging over his forehead and his eyes painted gold in the soft light of her bedside lamp, Emily can’t refuse, especially for something as simple as a braid.

Sighing, she begrudgingly agrees. “Fine.” She grumbles. “For her.”

____

1.

“Damn it, Aaron!” She hisses, closing her eyes against the searing pain when he pulls too tightly at her scalp.

“Sorry!” He immediately lets the strands go loose, though Emily’s head still aches.

“Gentle.” She grumbles over the chirpy instructions of the woman on Jack’s iPad, her own braid halfway done where Emily’s is a tangled mess.

“Sorry, hon,” he softly kisses the nape of her neck. “I’ll do better.”

____

3.

Aaron’s hands pause in her hair.

She’s immediately suspicious. “What?”

“Uh,” he grimaces at the lopsided crisscross on Emily’s head. Is he supposed to go over or under now? “I think I lost the strands.” 

Emily’s shoulders heave as she blows out a sigh. 

Aaron frowns at the difference between Emily’s braid—if it can be called that—and the instructor’s. He lets go of it, her plait melting into the rest of her hair, and grabs her comb again.

“One more time,” he murmurs, paying no attention to the clock as it strikes closer to twelve, his brows furrowing in concentration as he gently de-tangles Emily’s hair.

____

6.

Emily grabs the ever-growing hairball next to her thigh. 

“I’ll be going bald,” she sighs morosely, making a face when she feels a particularly hard tug near the nape of her neck. “I hope you’ll enjoy sleeping next to your bald wife.” She throws over her shoulder.

“Stay still.” Aaron scolds, albeit quietly. “I almost got it.” He crosses a frizzy section of Emily’s hair over the other; half the braid has come undone around her head and she’s tucked the strands behind her ear like overgrown bangs.

“Yeah, I bet you do.”

____

-

“No more.” Emily yawns, cupping the back of her sore neck and gently tilting it to the side. She faintly hears a crack.

“Just one,” Aaron pleads. He places his hands on her shoulders and feels her melt into his chest as he turns his head, kissing her temple. They’ve long since memorized the YouTube tutorial—if Emily has to hear Nicky’s voice one more time, she’ll smash the damn tablet.

“It’s almost midnight.” Her voice is edged in a whine as she runs her fingers through her dry, frizzy hair.

“Please.” Aaron prods softly. Another kiss, to her cheek this time. “It’ll make her so happy, Em.” 

She lets out a sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh. “You’re giving me a massage after this.”

“Deal.”

____

8.

Emily shifts between Aaron’s thighs as his hands still in her hair. He fiddles with the ends of her hair before she feels something gently hit her back.

“Aaron?”

“That definitely looks braid-like.” He says, sounding mildly sure as he looks between Emily’s hair and the iPad.

Thank fucking god. “Take a picture.” She tells him, her voice buzzing with impatience.

Aaron does, and when he shows it to her, she’s begrudgingly impressed. “It’s not even fully lopsided,” Emily says, smiling at the way it tilts to the left at the beginning but then straightens out. “Rough start, but you pulled through.” She grins and escapes from his lap—her prison for the last two hours—turning to give him a kiss.

“Good job, honey,” she murmurs, patting his cheek before collapsing onto her pillow. “Now can I sleep?” She demands, her lashes long as she looks up at him. 

Aaron smiles as he sets away the iPad and the comb. “I guess you’ve earned it.”

A pillow slams into his face.

****

Trudging into the kitchen, Emily squints as the bright sunlight assaults her eyes, throwing Aaron and Lucy into sharp relief as they sit at the table. He’s halfway through braiding her hair, his forehead creased in concentration.

“—now I’m ready to add in some more hair here from the side.” 

Emily yawns, then glares at Aaron. “Are we not done with her yet?” 

He doesn’t look up as he smiles. “Didn’t want to mess it all up.” He looks critically between the iPad and back of Lucy’s head.

“Daddy’s braiding my hair!” Lucy beams widely. Her dimples sweetly dig into her cheeks, a far cry from yesterday’s scowl.

“Just stay still, honey.” Aaron murmurs. Even from the distance Emily can see how gentle he’s being, his grip loose on Lucy’s hair—after one too many yanks on Emily’s scalp.

Her lips twitch into a smile. “I can see that.” She walks over to them and lowers the iPad volume. “I think we can do without this, though. I heard her in my dreams.”

Aaron chuckles but doesn’t look up. “She was in mine, too.” He says absently.

Emily gasps. “Aaron Hotchner.” Lucy looks up curiously and she lowers her voice to a whisper, “Another woman in your dreams?” She arches her brow, dismayed. “Guess you won’t be sleeping next to your bald wife after all.”

He coughs out a laugh as Lucy pipes up, confused. “You’re not bald, Mommy.”

“Trust me, I was about to be.” All for you, Emily thinks as she taps her scrunched nose. 

But in the end, when Lucy squeals happily at the sight of her braid and jumps into Aaron’s arms, her grin wide, she thinks it’s worth it. Even when her daughter comes home with the braid nearly completely unraveled and even when she starts favoring Aaron’s braids, long after Emily’s wrist has healed.

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