#they both look absolutely horrifying but yeah

[heedeungism]

𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

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

part two ; coming soon

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

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

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

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

“It isn’t what you think, babe—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How long?”

“What? Babe, this isn’t-“

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

“Babe, let me—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can, you’re just a party pooper.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Con, he’s on the lacrosse team.”

A chorus of agreement accompanies it to its column.

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

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

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

“Con, no instagram posts.”

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

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

“I think he’s the one.” You sigh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Leave the planning to those qualified, Seob.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What favor? You don’t do shit—“

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

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

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

Jungkook sighs, “Which one?”

“Number 10.”

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

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

“What about Jungwon?” 

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

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

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

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

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

His mouth shuts automatically, and he sighs. 

“So, tell me about him.”

“Why don’t you go ask?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Black.”

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

“Mine is green, coach!” 

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

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

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

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

Jungkook blows the whistle again, “Burpees.”

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

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

“Girlfriend?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Type?”

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

“Age?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m an earth sign.” 

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

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

“But I’m not—“

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

“Yeah, Coach?”

“Walk this one to her car.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

bitchqueen: guys this is bad

bitchqueen: he’s HOT

bitchqueen: i can’t do this 

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

bitchqueen: okay bitches im back

myrootcame2005: ur resolve inspires generations

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nishimura, Riki

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, “as are the next two.”

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

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

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

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

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

You hum, nodding, “Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

hueningbarbie: damn u act fast

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

hongchae: do you think he’ll agree?

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

bitchqueen: killing myself means i let them win

bellenotdelphine: jake is NEVER the only option

bellenotdelphine: hang in there queen

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that any of your business?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For: Pretty

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

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

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

spermdonor: lunch? we need to catch up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, he paid.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Both.”

“Kinda and no.” You answer, “Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Clammy. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, fuck.

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

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

Punching his face might feel better.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, I do.”

“—No, you don’t.” 

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

“His parents were discussing pressing charges—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hesitates before answering, “Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

“What’s your plan, pretty girl?” 

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

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

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

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

“Okay, I’m on my way, then.”

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

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

He blinks at you slowly, and you sigh. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I did ballroom for like, ten years.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His eyes widen, “Coach knows?”

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

“Did he suggest anyone else?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Riki, no.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bold of you to assume—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hate that you do.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Belle shrugs. “It kind of is.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

riki 🙈: im here

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And winning!" Eunchae adds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sucks."

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

Jake looks appalled. "Bro."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

She gasps joyfully, “I suck!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

riki 🙈: what size shoe do u wear?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heeseung snorts, “Shit, you are violent.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You had that stupid look on your face.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Don’t lose, bitch.

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

Strike!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Riki, it’s cold as shit.”

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

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

“‘You worried about me, pretty girl?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What the fuck?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hums in acknowledgment, already looking at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, what do you want to do?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But—”

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

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

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

“Thanks, Riki.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

part two. COMING SOON!

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

[wonderjanga]

You Feed Me Now For Some Reason?

This is inspired by @the-autistic-spider’s repost on this post.

Billy was having a good day. It was sunny out in Fawcett and just the right amount warm. He was relaxing, laid out on a bench in a park. His eyes were closed and he simply basked in the sun like a cat. Then all of a sudden the sun was blocked out by something.

Black Adam: *looking absolutely horrified* “Aman?”

Billy: *opens his eyes to look up, look up at him, and honest to the Gods his soul almost leaves his body as he sees Adam standing over him*

Both of them looked equally horrified to see each other.

Black Adam: “Ah…” *rubs his eyes before looking back at him* “No. You’re not him.”

Billy: “Not who?”

Black Adam: “No one that concerns you.” *clears throat* “Child, where is the Champion?”

Billy: “You mean Captain Marvel? He’s uh… not here right now.”

Black Adam: “I thought the bumbling fool was always around.”

Billy: “Bumbling- he’s not a bumbling fool!” *offended* “And he’s not always around because he kinda has a life to live, you know?”

Black Adam: “He has a life outside of being the Champion?” *does a little short evil laugh* “Like that’ll last long.”

After that, Adam flew away, leaving Billy to stare him like he was a fucking idiot because, well, he was acting like one. At least in Billy’s opinion anyways. Fast forward a week or two and Billy is leaving the Whiz building. He gets maybe about a street away before Adam suddenly lands in front of him.

Black Adam: “You.”

Billy: “Me?”

Black Adam: “Where is the Champion?”

Billy: “I dunno sir.” *shrugs*

Black Adam: “But you should know. You are the Whiz Kid, yes? You spread news about his accomplishments and battles and such.”

Billy: “Yeah? That doesn’t mean I know where he is though.” *is mentally pointing an laughing*

Black Adam: “I see.” *narrows eyes and looks Billy up and down* “You’re… skinny. Your parents need to feed you more.”

Billy: “Uhm… I don’t have parents Mr. Black Adam Sir.”

Black Adam: “I see.” *stares for a solid minute*

Billy: *stares back*

Black Adam: *picks Billy up and flies to look for a food vendor*

Billy: *screams and flails*

After they found a vendor…

Black Adam: *puts Billy down*

Billy: *tries to run*

Black Adam: *grabs the back of his sweater to make sure he stays there* “Give us your finest…” *looks to what the vendor is even selling* “Hot dogs.”

Billy: *still trying to run but this is his favorite sweater and he doesn’t want to ditch it so he’s just stuck trying to pull away from a man with the strength of Amon*

When Adam got the hotdogs he sat down at a bench and lifted Billy to sit on the bench too and eat. Now see, Billy wasn’t about to get rid of a perfectly good hotdog, no siree. So, he scooched all the way to the edge of the bench and the two ate in silence. After that awkwardness, Adam straight up left.

Now, you’d think this would be a one time thing right? Nah. Adam ends up dragging Billy to food places so frequently the boy gets used to it. They still sit in that silence but Billy’s gotten used to that and just tries to focus on the food. As for how they’re getting all this food? Adam just intimidates anyone who even thinks to deny the pair a taco or hotdog.

[rodolfoparras]

PLEASEJADGW I AM NEW, SPEAK ABT THE THE SOFT COCK FOR ME AGAIN

Thinking about hooking up with a divorced father whose only company for the past years has been the bear bottles in his fridge.

He’s greedy as ever as he sloppily licks into your mouth, lips tasting of whatever he had at the bar, practically moaning like a little slut while grinding down on your cock. His poor worn out coach is barley able to hold your weight but he couldn’t care less about that as he continues to hump you like some horny teenager.

Everything’s going well or at least you think so and soon you find yourself nestled between his thighs, hands swiftly pulling down his pants along with his boxers, hungrily watching as his cock spills out.

There isn’t much to the size but there’s some girth to his dick, shaft flushed an angry red and tip already weeping from just a little teasing.

Suddenly you find yourself eager as ever to get your mouth around him. However you don’t get much further than that before you feel him go soft in your mouth, with the older man looking absolutely horrified, apologizes rolling off of his tongue as he tries to get out of your grasp “fuck fuck- I’m so sorry I don’t know what happened,”

You don’t respond nor do you loosen your grip leaving the man looking both frazzled and confused where he lays pinned beneath your body. “What are you doing son? Let me go!”

Before he can say or do anything else you sink back down on him again, leaving the man loudly gasping as he bucks up into you “ahah! Fuck!”

As you work your mouth on him, you can’t help but notice how much smaller he feels. Cock fully soft yet so girthy. The weight of it on your tongue leaves you feeling numb but instead of having it be a frigid cold that encomposes your bones it’s a certain warmth that starts from the top of your head and works its way down to your toes.

The man beneath you seems frozen in place, looks at you with wide eyed and mouth agape as if he can’t believe this is happening. “ Jesus Christ You like this huh?” You hear him say but there’s no bite to his words, sounding more in disbelief if anything as his hand tentively cradles your skull.

Instead of responding you take him all the way down, obscene squelching sounds mingling with his whines and whimpers, only fully stopping when you’re buried in the fringe of curls and you got his balls pressed snug against you.

“Okay okay fuck you really like this yeah? Show me ah - show me how greedy you are for this soft cock then,”

Without wasting another second you do as he says,this time going at a much slower pace since your goal isn’t to get him off anymore but rather to feel all of him, and that’s exactly what you do as you bob your head down, mind focused on how hot and velvety he feels under your tongue.

“Fuck just like that, suck this old man’s cock,” he says through gritted teeth, the hand in your hair turning rougher as he yanks on it. “You know my wife never liked it when I got soft, fuck- she ah- she even left because of that but you? God you suck it like you were made for it,”

His words paired with the bitter taste lingering on your tongue makes you hungry for more and before you know of it you find yourself sucking harder, head bobbing erratically and losing yourself in the feeling of him jerking against the roof of your mouth, the way you can easily take more and more and more of his soft cock without chocking up, and the feeling of his spit slicked balls sliding against you with every thrust.

“God yes ah yes yes,” he gasps out but it’s not long before he pulls you away from his cock and you’re almost ashamed of the pitiful sound that escapes your mouth.

“Shh shh easy there, “ he coaxes out as he strokes your head “we’re going to have plenty of fun I promise, go and get that bottle of lube for me yeah?”

[ellecdc]

can i request a hurt comfort (with as little hurt as possible)

where barty either gets a letter from his dad or his dad is just a dick and he goes to reader for comfort

thank you

thanks for your request lovie! and also for your patience in my writing it <3

Barty Crouch Junior x Potter!reader who comforts Barty after a moment with his dad

CW: fem!reader, Sirius spends the entire fic being an absolute pain in Remus' ass, I feel like Barty acts a bit ooc in this (more hurt Barty than angry Barty if that makes sense), I'm also not 100% sure how I feel about this piece so I apologize if it reads weird

“You can always add more layers, right? But you can only remove so many.” Peter explained earnestly.

“Not the way that I do it.” Sirius replied salaciously, earning him a jab in the ribs by Remus. 

“No, I think being cold is the worst feeling in the world.” James offered resolutely.

“Wrong.” Remus drawled without looking up from his book. “I’ve never been more miserable than when I’m overheated” 

“You’re miserable 75% of the time, Moons.” Sirius mumbled; though the words seemed to escape his mouth without his permission because no sooner had he said them was he slapping a hand over his mouth and looking at you with a horrified expression.

“Yeah well next time you’re so cold, Sirius, you can try crawling into Peter’s bed for snuggles.” Remus muttered back.

“What’s the count at now, Pete?” James asked quickly.

“That’s the….eighteenth time Sirius has been put in the dog house.”

“This week?” You asked.

“No, just since breakfast.” Peter responded simply.

“How about you, Trouble? Do you think being too hot or too cold is worse?” Sirius redirected.

“Hot.” You replied as you flipped a page of your book, earning you a snicker from Remus, a cheer from Peter, and grumbling from James and Sirius.

“You only voted that way because I’m your brother.” James bemoaned.

Peter looked between the two of you inquisitively. “Erm, wouldn’t that have put you in her favour?”

You, Sirius, and James all chorused ‘no’ as Remus snorted.

“Siblings don’t operate that way, Pettigrew.” Regulus said from behind you, causing the group to turn towards the entrance of the Gryffindor common room to see Regulus and Barty making their way over.

“Hi baby!” James called over, causing Sirius to make a dramatic gagging sound and Regulus to roll his eyes, though no one missed the furious blush that decorated his cheeks as he moved to sit beside your brother.

Barty quietly moved around the sofa to sit beside you on a cushion and let his head fall onto your shoulder.

“Hey bubba.” You greeted quietly, pressing a kiss to your boyfriend's hair.

You heard a quiet ‘hi tres’ as he pressed a chaste kiss to your shoulder before repositioning his head back onto your shoulder.

“Merlin, who kicked your pygmy puff, Junior?” Sirius asked after a beat of silence, causing Regulus to hiss something at him under his breath and Remus to snap his book shut abruptly.

“Alright, you’re done.” He barked at Sirius before he was throwing his now gawking boyfriend over his shoulder and marching up to the boys’ dorm room. 

You craned your neck to look at Barty whose head was still pointed downward as he fiddled with the bracelets adorning your arm.

Your bemused gaze shot to Regulus who pursed his lips before mouthing ‘dad’ at you. 

You took in a deep breath and tapped Barty’s thigh twice before standing and offering him your hand.

You knew it was bad when he never made eye contact with you as he accepted your hand willingly. 

You knew it again when not one word was shared between the Gryffindor tower and the Slytherin dungeons; nor as you whispered the password to the Slytherin common room and made your way to the boys’ dorm room.

And you knew it once more when nothing was said as you and Barty pulled off your uniforms, changed into some comfies and crawled into bed. 

Barty curled up in a quasi-fetal position on his bed as you mirrored it, your body facing his as you brought one of his hands in both of yours to your chin.

“What’s going on, my love.” You whispered before pressing your lips to his knuckles. 

The only response you got was a quick shake of his head. 

You allowed silence to fall over you for a few moments before you couldn’t stand the anguish anymore.

“Barty? Please? Talk to me…” You all but begged.

Barty’s breath hitched slightly before he was pulling you towards him from where you were joined at the hands.

Needless to say, you went willingly. 

“What happened?” You whispered as you tucked his head into your chest, wrapping your arms protectively around your boyfriend as if they could single handedly protect him from any negativity the world tried to throw at him. 

You’d certainly try.

“I don’t know why I let him get to me. I-” Barty started, his voice cracking miserably. “I don’t know why I care-”

“Of course you care, Barty.”

“But I shouldn’t!” And though his volume got louder, his tone never grew angry; not at you, at least. “I shouldn’t; he’s awful Y/N, just terrible. And I shouldn’t care if terrible people hate me or wish I was never born or wish I was dead or whatnot. I shouldn’t care if he wants me to be more terrible like him. I shouldn’t care, it shouldn’t hurt-”

“Bubba.”

“I don’t know why I ever thought managing to receive all 12 O.W.L’s would be good enough for him.”

“Sweetheart, I-”

“I don’t know why I give a shit what he thinks of me when I know-”

“Because he’s your dad, Barty.” You finally got out, tightening your hold around your quickly spiralling boyfriend as he took a shuddering breath. “Because even if you only managed to pass 3 O.W.L’s, even if you dropped out of school to become a hard-done-by ventriloquist performer; he is supposed to love you and he is supposed to be proud of you. That’s why it hurts.”

Your words seemed to be of little comfort to Barty who simply nuzzled further into your chest which was quickly growing damp with his tears.

“I’m sorry, Barty. You’re not wrong for feeling hurt; he’s wrong for hurting you.”

Barty managed to fall into a fitful sleep as you simultaneously thanked the gods for blessing you with parents like Euphemia and Fleamont Potter and cursing the gods for not gracing such luck onto every child. 

No matter, though; you had a plan.

“Goooooooood morning, Siri!” You greeted as you floated up to your most dutiful fellow trickster.

He simply looked at you sceptically. 

“No way, Trouble.”

“What?”

“Not happening.”

“I haven’t even said anything!” You whined.

“Yes, but you see, I’m on my best behaviour today.” He explained solemnly as the other three marauders made their way over to the table where you had found Sirius sitting alone. 

“Remus refused cuddling privileges last night, didn’t he?” You asked nonplussed.

Sirius harrumphed and sat back in his chair as Remus, Peter, and James all chorused “Remus refused cuddling privileges last night.”

“That’s too bad…” You hummed noncommittally. “I could really use your guys’ help with something.”

“Yeah?” James asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees as he considered you.

“With a prank.” You continued, noticing the way both Peter and Remus perked up at the p word.

Finally, you turned your gaze to the eldest Black brother who was very pointedly looking down at the book he’d been studying from prior to your arrival.

“Against a very old, very bigoted, downright horrid Pureblood family.” You finished.

To both your absolute horror and delight, Sirius finally looked up at that; a rather sinister looking smile taking over his face as he locked eyes with you.

“Well…why didn’t you just say so?”

Remus was in the middle of muttering about how it was horribly unfair that he put in nearly three times the amount of effort into his homework only for his boyfriend to earn the same score as him after having hardly read the book at all just as Regulus, Barty, and Evan took a seat at your table.

“Morning.” Barty greeted you quietly as he cozied up on the bench beside you, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of your head before fixing himself up a cup of tea.

“How is it that when McGonagall calls on you, you’ve not got a sodding clue what she’s been going on about, but you managed to get an Exceeds Expectations on your paper?” Remus grumbled before putting down his cup rather more aggressively than strictly necessary.

“Because, Moons; I’m brilliant.” Sirius responded simply.

“You’re a brilliant pain in my arse is what you are.” He grumbled as Sirius beamed at him. 

“I hardly understand how any of you lot get anything done with all the tomfoolery you concern yourselves with.” Regulus mumbled as he fixed himself some toast.

“Tomfoolery. Merlin’s tits, Reggie, come join us in the twentieth century will you?” Sirius taunted from the other side of James, earning him a withering glare from his brother.

“Speaking of tomfoolery.” Evan started as he looked at you with a mixture of pride and suspicion. “Why don’t we go around the table and share where we all were last night? I’ll go first; Reg and I were studying for the alchemy test coming up. Barty?”

You barely had a chance to give Evan a sideways glance before Barty was scoffing at him. “I hardly think that’s any of your concern, Rosier.”

“Nevermind; Regulus and I left you in the dorms and found you in the dorms immediately afterwards; how ‘bout you lot? Oi! Gryffindors! Where were you last night?”

“Head boy duties.” James offered without looking up.

“Prefect rounds and then bed.” Remus explained nonchalantly.

“Following my boyfriend around during his prefect rounds and then bed.” Sirius continued.

“Pete and I played three rounds of wizarding chess and one round of gobstones before bed.” You said flippantly.

“Who won?” Regulus asked quickly.

“What?” 

“Who won the game of gobstones?” He clarified.

You and Peter said “I did” at the same time before whipping your heads to look at each other.

“In what sodding world did you think you won that, Peter?!” 

“Uhm, how about because you’re a cheat?” Peter scoffed back at you.

“Oh, you’re dead. Rematch, tonight!”

“No, not tonight.” Barty argued.

“Why not?” You asked, turning your attention from your faux adversary to look at your boyfriend.

“He’ll be too busy duelling me for calling my girlfriend a cheat.”

“Don’t blame the poor sod for the fact that those two didn’t have their stories straight before our interrogation, Junior.” Evan said with a smirk.

“What the hell are you on about, Rosier?” Barty challenged.

Evan made a noncommittal sound as he tossed a copy of the Daily Prophet in front of him.

In big, bold letters, the headline read “MYSTERIOUS FIREWORK RELATED INCIDENT ENGULFED HALF OF CROUCH MANOR IN FLAMES” before the story continued on. 

An alleged attack was sieged on Crouch Manor in the late hours of the night when charmed fireworks were set off within the Sacred Twenty Eight family’s home. It appeared that the two current residents of the manor were not home at the time of the attack, so though there were no resulting injuries, approximately just under half of the Manor had been completely desecrated by the time the occupants had returned home. 

You and the marauders were all in various states of shoving food into your mouth, speaking to one another about the weather, and other general forms of innocent behaviour as Barty turned to look at you incredulously.

“What did you do?” He asked breathlessly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Barty.” You said softly; staring intently into his green eyes that seemed to be searching the very depths of yours. 

“Did you do this for me?”

You scoffed in faux derision. “The only thing I did last night was completely annihilate Pettigrew in a game of gobstones and two rounds of wizarding chess.” You continued to deny. 

“Two!?” Peter exclaimed from a few seats away from you. 

“You’re perfect.” Barty whispered at you before you had a chance to start another verbal row with your co-conspirator. 

You took a moment to examine Barty then; a way you hadn’t done since you last left him.

Since you left him curled up in a blanket, cheeks still damp with tears as he no doubt dreamed of his deep rooted hatred of his father.

But right now, today, there was none of that boy; today his expression only held ease, admiration, and hope.

“Well….perfect would have been if the whole manor had gone up in flames but…I suppose there’s always next time.” You muttered as Barty cackled loudly. 

Yes…you decided you would do it for him a thousand times over if this version of Barty was the one that it promised.

[solxamber]

Maybe a Skully request for him learning the reader's birthday is really close to Halloween? I just think he'd get excited to hear the reader's had a Halloween themed birthday every year because of it, and due to it not being ON Halloween its like having two in 1 year, would absolutely be his dream if he doesn't already do that

Skully J. Graves x Reader

I'm so sorry for the wait, I hope you like it <3

You casually mention your birthday while lounging in Ramshackle, almost as an afterthought. "Oh, yeah. My birthday’s next week. It’s always super close to Halloween, so I’ve had a Halloween-themed party almost every year."

Skully, who was dramatically arranging some black and white decorations in the room (for "aesthetic purposes"), suddenly freezes. He turns toward you slowly, his eyes widening with a mixture of awe and reverence. He drops the cobweb-covered garland he’s holding and rushes to your side in an over-the-top theatrical flourish, coat sweeping across the floor.

“What did you say?!” he asks, his voice high, almost like you’ve revealed some ancient secret.

You blink at him. “Uh...my birthday’s next week?”

“And every year…” He leans closer, eyes locked on yours like you just said the most magical thing in the world. “...it’s Halloween-themed?!”

Grim, who’s curled up in front of the fire with a snack, snorts. “Pffft. Why’s that such a big deal? We don’t even get extra tuna just ‘cause it’s spooky time.”

Skully completely ignores Grim, focusing all his energy on you. “This is...this is...this is the dream.” He grabs your hand and dramatically bows over it, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “You’ve been living my ideal life all this time, and I never knew! You, my friend, have been blessed with not just one, but two Halloweens every year!”

He gets this far-off, dreamy look in his eyes, as if he’s envisioning a world where he, too, has two Halloweens, one on your birthday and one on the actual holiday. "A prelude Halloween, and then the real Halloween...It’s a masterpiece of planning, a work of art." He lets out a breathy sigh, “Jack Skellington himself would be proud!”

“I mean, it’s not that big of a deal…” you try, but Skully’s already on another planet, his face lighting up like a jack-o’-lantern.

“Do you know what this means?!” He suddenly grabs both of your shoulders, eyes wide with the joy of someone who’s just unlocked the key to eternal happiness. “We can have TWO Halloween parties in a row! One in your honor, and then the official Halloween! Two nights of pure, spooky glory!” He releases you, spins dramatically, and gestures around the room. “The decorations, the costumes, the endless dark colors—just think about it! It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of!”

Grim rolls his eyes, crunching loudly on his snack. “Yeah, yeah. And where’s my tuna in all of this? I’m not seein’ how this benefits me.”

Skully waves his hand dismissively at Grim. “You’ll get all the tuna you want, little furball. We’re talking about a double Halloween extravaganza! This is bigger than any feast of fish!”

Grim’s ears perk up. “Double the tuna, huh?”

“I said parties, not tuna,” you point out, but Grim’s already on board.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go with double the parties, double the snacks,” Grim says, throwing in his vote for this wild plan. “I’ll bring the fireworks.”

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “No fireworks inside the dorm, Grim.”

Skully looks ready to faint from excitement. “Imagine it...we’ll start with a pre-Halloween bash for your birthday. Dark, moody decorations, not a single bright color in sight. No candy—just the eerie emptiness of true Halloween spirit.” He twirls around, his cape billowing behind him. “Then, on the real Halloween, we’ll raise the stakes even higher. There will be no sugar. No colors. Only shadows.”

Grim looks horrified. “Wait, no candy?! That’s...that’s sacrilege! You can’t have a Halloween without candy!”

Skully turns to Grim, his voice deadly serious. “The only true treat...is fear.”

Grim groans. “Ugh, you’re the worst.”

Skully turns back to you with a grin. “What do you say? Two Halloweens! Double the spooky goodness, twice the amount of dark, colorless celebration...”

You laugh, watching the pure joy radiating from Skully. “You’re absolutely obsessed.”

“I am obsessed!” he says proudly, puffing out his chest. “You are living proof that Halloween is not confined to one day. It is a lifestyle, a way of being. And now, you and I...we shall celebrate that lifestyle together. Forever!”

Grim mutters something about “weirdos” and “no candy,” but you just shake your head, feeling both exhausted and entertained by Skully’s antics.

“Well,” you say with a grin, “I guess I’d better start planning for two spooky parties this year.”

Skully nearly faints from happiness. “This...this is everything I’ve ever wanted!”

Grim groans dramatically. “Great. Two days of weirdos and no candy. Can’t wait.”

Skully, in all his dramatic, Halloween-obsessed glory, was in for a treat. And now, you’ve somehow roped yourself into throwing a double Halloween bash. Lucky you.

Masterlist

[suiana]

i was playing this Roblox game and saw this funny thing so imagine a yandere! giant who just thinks humans are so cute!

you're a human and live in a world where humans co-exist with other species. merfolk, vampires, giants... you name it, you have it. in any case, humans are considered cute to other creatures because of how... fragile they are.

i mean, you can't really argue with that. humans really are much more fragile as compared to other species. soft flesh, shorter lifespans...

so when your giant friend confesses that he is in love with you, you visibly take a step back and say:

"um, you should find another giant to be with."

it's not like you were being mean or anything either. you knew that while most creatures found humans to be cute, not many of them would want to be with a human. you've been asked out as a prank by too many other species (especially faes). if he got with you... the both of you would be scorn by others. you're just doing him a favour and telling him to find someone else.

physically, he was also two to three times your size! it would've never worked out anyway. and you don't even like him like that! there was no reason for you to accept his confession.

he doesn't seem to understand your rejection though.

"aw, humans are so cute! don't worry, i'll take care of you!"

"no, what? i don't-"

"haha! come here darling!"

...you blocked him and ran away.

what? it was a normal reaction! anyone would react like that if they got chased by a big, tall, beefy man! thankfully, you managed to hide away from him for a good bit. that is, until today.

you were out getting your groceries until you saw this... this huge ass giant that looked like he was starved for days.

him. he found you.

you immediately tried running back into your house, but it was too late. the second he saw you, he sprinted in your direction and tried to get to you by poking several holes with his arm into your house. it would've have been pretty comical to watch if YOU WEREN'T THE ONE INSIDE THE HOUSE.

you know how hamsters always stare in fear whenever their human tried to pick them out of their cage all while cooing and smiling at them? yeah, that was you. except you weren't a hamster. and the smile on your giant's face was absolutely horrifying.

yes, there was a smile on his face. but the delirious expression and flushed cheeks made him look like someone who escaped from the mental hospital.

"darling! ah, why'd you run away? i searched everywhere for you... to think you'd be living in such a small house... do you like dollhouses?"

no. he was just comically large and you weren't.

"please- ugh."

you stare at him as he pulls his arms out of your broken windows, heart calming down slightly. ah, at least he was- wait, wait, wait! your mouth drops in a mixture of fear? shock? as he removes the roof of your house with one hand and grabs you with the other.

"much better. let's go back home now, shall we?"

he smiles at you, patting your head before throwing your detached roof onto your... house that looks like it got ran through.

damn it... you couldn't even stay scared...

your house that you bought with your own money got absolutely massacred! this is a crime! a tragedy!

he'll pay for his actions... you'll make sure of it...

"aw, darling! you look like a cute hamster now! you're rubbing your hands together like you're plotting something evil haha!"

damn him!

[blackbirdsblackberries]

"I hate the new hero" is such a brilliant fic idea! I absolutely devoured it. 

 

Especially if we throw in some angst into it. *evil laugh*

Like, what if the harassment was too much that it affected the reader’s other life?

What was at first a way for her to hide her superhero identity.. had now made her doubt her vigilante work?

 

I know the BatBoys won’t act as low to actually physically harass who they thought was a civilian student, no matter how much they hate it, but they’ll definitely make their life worse. Online harassment, endless accusations, fake rumours that caused the reader to be hated by the entire school. 

 

Until one day you had enough. As much as reader love Gotham, wanting to protect it. But you were only a student now.. a teenage with a future to strive for, a future Gotham Academy could no longer provide you. 

 

‘Are these people the ones I risk my life every night for..?’

‘What was the point..’

All kinds of self deprecating dark thoughts swirl inside the mind of the teenage girl. 

 

After some thought, you decided. 

 

“I’m leaving Gotham,” Aranea announces, sharp eyes looking down the streets of the city from the high rooftop. 

 

Red Robin almost lost his cool, a cold shudder went through him at the horrifying revelation. It was so sudden, why are you leaving? Leaving Gotham? Leaving them? Leaving him?

 

His brilliant mind moved at an almost inhuman speed, creating hundreds of possibilities for why you would come to that decision.

 

But he just doesn’t understand. “Why?” He finally let out, his voice so low he was worried you didn’t catch it. 

 

But you did. “I have my reasons.” You sigh, your brows furrowing in distress.

 

Oh, how Tim wished he could kiss your worries away. It kills him to see you so troubled.

 

“Why? Is something wrong?” He urged, his tone sounding desperate. “I swear if Red Hood did something—“

 

“No,” You shook your head, “Nothing’s wrong. At least not with you guys.”

 

“Then what is it?” He eyes you, trying to read you. “Is it your day life? Your life behind the mask?”

 

You didn’t answer, avoiding his gaze. You were too quiet, it was such a strange sight. Your eyes held a certain sadness, your smile gone. It’s killing him.  

 

Your silence gave him all the answers he needed. “Then tell me, tell me who you are. Let us help you.” He begs; he knows he’ll do anything you ask him to, and he knows his family would do the same. 

 

“You know we can’t do that.” You shook your head. 

 

Damn, this is getting too long. Haha.. I’ll stop. But yeah. It’s a brilliant idea. 

 

Imagine how crazy he’ll react if he knew that he was the cause of your worries. He was the one who hurt you. The angst will be delicious. 

STOP YOU'RE ACTUALLY READING MY MIND!!

Not to spoil too much but in future chapters Reader will start to doubt themselves and cracks will show.

Reader may also look elsewhere for places to save. After all, Gotham already has so many heroes, what's one gone?

But they can't let the optimistic sweetheart of a hero go now, can they? You know what they say, you can take the man out of the city but not the city out the man...

Who said that?! 😮‍💨

And for the third paragraph, I absolutely agree! They wouldn't stoop so low as to actually assault Reader. But that doesn't mean they can't misuse the power they have over Gotham (both in their vigilante life and real life).

Though if I were to say one name that I think would get slightly physical (passive aggressively) I would have to say Dick.

Dick is such an emotionally complex character. Damian has learnt from his past and knows better thanks to Bruce, Bruce wouldn't risk anything and would instead just verbally cause harm, Jason doesn't actually resort to violence a lot - he yells, he punches walls, etc but he has never actually hit someone without proper reason/justification, Tim is above violence while a civilian.

The way Dick would do it would be so casual though - a hug too tight, a handshake that "accidentally" breaks a finger, a hard "pat" on the back that makes you spit out whatever you're eating/drinking, small things that don't seem like much.

I also want to state that the Reader is very complex as well with how I write them. Their true personality is cautious, ambitious, kind, sarcastic, kinda cold and loyal but they either display one part too much or too little - kind, loyal and ambitious during hero work is up to 100 while cautious, sarcastic, cold is hidden at 30. Whereas while a civilian they show caution, coldness, sarcasm at 100 with loyalty, kindness and ambition down to 30-40.

I won't say much more though, again Reader is you guys so their "true" personality is up to you - this is just how they're perceived by people.

[celestialhole]

Daisuke headcanons(?)

Sfw romantic I know a fucker with abandonment issues when I see one. If you just happen to be roommates he's waiting at the door for you to come back while tip-tapping on his phone or Nintendo switch(he has one, he told me himself). Messages you while your both in a meeting and looks over at you to see your reactions to his stupid memes, feeling giddy inside when you crack a smile at one of them and makes sure to send more in the future Curly catches you both. I know this man has a stash of weed hidden somewhere, I can smell it on him. Speaking of weed he's either so lovesick when he's high, or balling his eyes out to you. Likes to journal in private about you or anything new he learned, but mostly about you and a bit of Swansea <3. Absolutely horrified when Swansea finds it. Some nights he's a terrible sleeper; scratches himself, tossing and turning, and sleeping in the dumbest positions that he complains about his back when he wakes up. Other nights you're using yourself as a straightjacket on him so he isn't fucking bruising himself in his sleep. Listens to music with you by sharing his earbuds with you. Has the cutest and stupidest sleeping masks. Will make you have a spa day with him and then proceed to have pretend gossip with you. Later in your relationship he gets better sleep with you because he's attached to you like a koala. You want your nails painted? He's got you, in fact, can you choose a color for him too? They're a little messy but it gives them more personality. You laugh at his jokes and he kissing all over your face and doing that tom and jerry thing where he kisses on your arm and goofily praising you. Gives the most random loud, wet kisses on your cheek when he passes by you in the hallway and if he's feeling stupid he'll just lick your face and run off giggling as you wipe the saliva he left behind. Cannot call you by your name, it's too straightforward and serious for him. He's called you by a nickname since the day he's met you and has it as his contact name for you with ten heart emojis. Early in your relationship he starts sneaking in your bottom bunk to sleep with you. What's that? He has a bunk bed of his own? Yeah well yours is more comfortable so shhhh.... Poor boy has terrible back posture for so many reasons, so if you give him a back massage you're getting the nastiest head.

[reason-with-the-underdog]

au where siraj recruited kaveh into his hivemind, except kaveh doesn't know he's in a hivemind

ok so in a series of unfortunate events, kaveh is inducted into siraj's hivemind.

...except he has no idea he's in a hivemind & just thinks he has weirder intrusive thoughts than usual

so the hivemind is suddenly full of:

"the cross-tensile strength of concrete made with fine grit sand + seawater is.." and

"remember to place another order of those beautiful tiles" and

"i can't believe alhaitham wakes up an hour early to drink coffee leisurely before work"

...wait what?

siraj goes from being jubilant over recruiting the light of the kshahrewar into his hivemind(!!!!) to realising very quickly that hivemind thoughts about alhaitham have increased by 250%.

in three days.

basically kaveh accidentally hijacks siraj's hivemind lmao with his 21 revision draft woes and also with the thought of how cute alhaitham is when he hums while doodling

imagine if alhaitham goes through all the effort of his SQ and then he discovers that the hivemind is already in shambles bc there's a civil war waging between two camps:

"alhaitham is the worst" and

"alhaitham is misunderstood"

(kaveh is leader of them both btw)

kaveh has no idea he's part of the hivemind (and has been considering hivemind thoughts to be intrusive thoughts) so when they get more negative, he's just like "wow brain i know alhaitham's the worst but that's a little extreme... he should be nicer to me though, you're right, brain"

once the truth is revealed, kaveh would be VERY horrified to discover that many many strangers know a bunch about his personal problems

(he got tipsy and went on a passionate rant about how capitalism devalues what it cannot sell to the masses, the hivemind was ENRAPTURED and agreed to form a union immediately...

siraj put a stop to that, absolutely no need for unions in a hivemind!!!)

it turns out that the hivemind has incredible potential for unlocking human brainpower beyond individual capacity, exactly by design ...which also means its easily hijacked by strong emotional appeals for idealistic causes

exactly what kaveh is good at--

except kaveh isn't actually trying to radicalise anyone into becoming activists. he just thinks a lot about how the decline of arts in sumeru is a leading sign of academic society's downfall... also about how there exists disrespectful juniors who always keep score, whatever happened to common decency!

so this means siraj & kaveh having a brain fight broadcast over hivemind like:

siraj: alhaitham is a terrible scribe who will kneecap the akademiya with his close mindedness

kaveh: don't be preposterous, he's actually really good at his job. alhaitham can't stand incompetence, especially in himself

another hivemind member: shut up about alhaitham already

siraj & kaveh: no.

bear in mind that this is the time period where kaveh built mehrak bc he was lonely so when he accidentally joins the hivemind, there are no red flags to him bc hell yeah, he's not lonely anymore, he's got a bunch of random voices in his head now

call that problem solving 😤😤🧠‼️

tighnari is mildly concerned when kaveh stops ranting to him as much about his roommate woes as of late. kaveh says that he's gotten better at talking with the voices in his head about his emotional problems, actually more helpful than you'd think

tighnari: the what now

kaveh: idk remember that one time you said i should see a therapist

tighnari: yeah..?

kaveh: well i looked up how much that costs & oof... anyways some stuff happened and then now its like i have imaginary group therapy sessions

tighnari: now you need that therapist even more tbh

siraj went from congratulating himself for recruiting the light of kshahrewar into the hivemind to experiencing major regret in 0.4 seconds bc it turns out kaveh has unmedicated adhd and now the hivemind is:

20% rug facts

12% fancy angles

28% eco-friendly wood veneer

25% alhaitham thots

15% wine math

recruiting kaveh into the hivemind is the beginning of the end for siraj's plotting bc the hivemind's existence becomes known now that alhaitham suddenly goes from being "who? oh, is that the scribe?" to:

oh my god IM SICK OF HEARING ABOUT HIM

he sounds like a dick tbh

i know way too much about how this guy prefers his coffee, almost like we had lived together??

imagine if kaveh mostly ignored the responses he gets from the hivemind (there's plenty of thoughts going on in his head, no need to pay attention all of em) except for when he needs witty quips to respond to alhaitham with, which the hivemind delivers, pronto

quality of life upgrade right there for kaveh, huge!

imagine having all the computing power of a hivemind at your fingertips... and you use it to come up with clever remarks for your housemate who you absolutely do not think too much about

(the hivemind goes absolutely wild when they learn that alhaitham chuckles at one response)

siraj is coping & seething SO HARD btw this hivemind was supposed to benefit HIM the most!!!! how did this happen. this is all alhaitham's fault, clearly

kaveh: ok random negative thought, not everything is alhaitham's fault. i'm perfectly capable of creating my own problems!!

anyways the hivemind falls apart, for entirely different reasons to canon, but also very much due to alhaitham's existence. kaveh still doesn't know who siraj is

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two four

A small note: if you would like to be added to the tagging list please ask in a reply to the post, I won't check elsewhere.

Eddie’s sitting on the couch. He’s staring into space, a couch cushion clutched tight to his chest.

Steve creeps in after Robin, hears her say, “Eddie?” softly, presumably so she doesn’t startle him.

He’s sitting in the dark, and they both just leave it that way. Probably an unspoken understanding that they don’t want to unsettle Eddie.

They sit down either side of him, Robin rubbing at his back. Steve keeps his hands to himself, not sure what will be welcome, and even less sure what the fuck he should say. Robin’s just better at this sort of stuff than Steve, maybe because she’s a girl or whatever, but she definitely has the emotional intelligence half of the brain.

Steve doesn’t know if there’s anything he even can say in a situation like this.

Eddie’s eyes are red and his face is wet, and he doesn’t move or look at either of them.

Eventually, Robin speaks gently, “Eddie, we can’t stay here.”

Steve figures whoever did live here probably cleared out when everything went to shit. He’s kind of glad; has no fucking idea how he’d explain away Eddie Munson, possible cult leader and serial killer, breaking into their house.

Steve doesn’t think Eddie’s going to say anything, but he does, after a minute, he nods, and says in a croaky voice, “I want to see Wayne.”

“Yeah, of course,” Robin agrees quickly, “we can do that, right Steve?”

“Yeah,” Steve replies, trying to sound sure and confident with that, when Eddie flinches. Visibly flinches. Turning away, shuffling closer to Robin’s end of the couch. And, okay.

Robin looks at him over Eddie’s head. Steve shrugs. Robin shrugs back. No idea.

Steve carefully, making no quick movements, moves his hand in front of his mouth, mimes using the walkie. Robin nods.

Steve jogs out to the car, walkie’s everyone real quick so they can stop looking. The others have already woken Wayne up, discovered that Eddie wasn’t there, and then gone looking for Eddie, so they’re going to head back there and wait for Steve and Robin to bring Eddie over. Explain to Wayne that Eddie’s safe so they don’t leave him worrying in the meantime.

Steve creeps back in, hoping Robs has made some progress getting Eddie moving. She hasn’t, and Steve peeks around the corner, listening. Robin is still rubbing at Eddie’s back, but he’s talking, “didn’t make any sense to come here. It’s all wrong. It all looks wrong it’s...not how we had it. Our stuffs not here,” Eddie sniffs, his voice breaking, “I thought I’d find them here.”

And then Eddie is sobbing, face buried into the cushion, sobbing so hard his whole body is hitching. He’s making noises that tear at Steve, it’s one of the worst things Steve has ever seen, such an outpouring of grief. Eddie’s so loud with it, almost wailing, barely able to breathe his chest is so wracked with it.

Steve feels absolutely useless, but Robin’s looking for him over the back of the couch, and as soon as he sees her his feet carry him over. Robin’s crying too. Steve’s pretty sure his own eyes are wet. It’s just so awful to watch. So painful, Eddie’s grief.

Steve realizes now, why Robin was so horrified. The truth of it finally sinking in now he sees the evidence of it. Eddie loved them, loved them so much that loosing them is breaking him.

Steve sits back on the couch, Eddie looking up for a second when he feels the couch dip, and suddenly he’s thrown himself at Steve, still shaking with those heaving sobs as Steve reflexively wraps his arms around him. It hurts like fuck on Steve’s broken ribs, but Steve bites it back, like fuck is reminding Eddie of that right now.

“I shouldn't have come here,” Eddie chokes out, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Eddie’s making Steve’s neck wet, and his great heaving sobs make Steve arms hitch along with them. Over the fluff of Eddie’s hair, Steve sees it as Rob starts crying fully, wiping at her nose with her sleeve, her face crumpling with it.

Steve swallows thickly, trying to hold it together but knowing he’s loosing it, and he rubs at Eddie's back, telling him, "it's okay, it'll be okay," even though Steve has no idea if it is or even if it ever will be.

It feels like a small eternity before Eddie sits up and finally moves. He doesn’t look at Steve, has his eyes squeezed shut as he scrubs at his face, and when Steve reaches for him, he flinches so hard he almost falls off the couch.

Rob is there for him then, telling him, “easy, easy,” and getting Eddie up and walking him to the car, Eddie half leaning on her.

Eddie’s opening the car door before Steve even fully stops, high tailing it away like his ass is on fire. Wayne is there in the doorway of the motel room.

Easy enough to find, it’s the only motel in Hawkins, and Jon’s car is parked outside the right room.

Wayne opens the door as Steve kills the engine, and Steve watches in the dim light as Eddie practically throws himself at Wayne. He’s sobbing again, Steve can hear it.

Steve’s only half out the car, but Nancy’s there, shaking her head, “we should leave them to it.”

They’re not going to go back to sleep, but they go through the motions anyway. Steve has a shower, really feels like he needs it. He takes a few minutes extra in there, scrubbing at his face and washing his hair, being very careful of his stitches. He gets changed into sleep pants after, and a loose tee shirt, lying in bed. Even if he just lies here, at least it’s rest of some kind. The sun will be up in an hour away, and the kids had said something about helping out at the sports hall, making sandwiches and putting together bundles of emergency supplies and stuff like that.

Steve said he’d drive them.

“Come on Dingus, I can hear you thinking about it.”

“He wouldn’t even look at me, and he flinched Rob, did you see that? And then…” it just doesn’t make any sense.

“Yeah, I did but...out of all of us, you’re the one he hurt the worst. Like, way the worst. He nearly killed you, Steve. Like, literally, if Eddie had taken another ten seconds to wake up, you would have been lights out. Maybe he remembers.”

That does make sense, Steve hums in agreement, that’s got to be hard for him, “yeah.”

“Maybe it’s hard for him to see you because...well. That’s got to be a shitty memory. Plus, trauma does funny things, what if he remembers you fighting back, you know?”

And that’s true, Steve did land one good hit on Eddie with his bat, more reflexive than anything. Before Eddie had taken the thing right out of Steve’s hands and snapped it like it was nothing, that is.

So yeah, maybe, Steve figures, “he was saying sorry.”

Robin hums again.

Steve’s ribs are healed up, his stitches long gone, all his bruises and scrapes are gone. The town is, kind of, back on it’s feet. Sure, there’s probably an abnormally high number of for sale signs in Hawkins, but everyone who was going to come back has done. Enough that Steve’s got part time shifts at the video store, at least. Mostly to keep up appearances; now that it’s all over, Owen’s got them all a pay out. Essentially for damages and trauma or whatever, but also with a very clear ‘keep your mouths shut’ attached to it.

For that first month, Eddie pretty much only speaks to Dustin. He stays with Wayne, and once every couple of days he lets Dustin know that he’s okay. The message Dustin brings back is the same every time, “he’s okay, he just needs some time.”

@autumncrocusandladybug @duckyreads @neonfruitbowl @slv-333 @starlight-archer @skys-archive @justdreamersdream @moomkin77 @prazinos @dragonmama76 @lingeringmirth @darkwitchoferie @weirdandabsurd42 @zoeweee @thennic @xiaq @tinyplanet95 @steddieyourself @chrystal-lovee @futuristicunknown86 @grtwdsmwhr @mugloversonly @wonderland-girl143-blog

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Requestion 😉 for Regina x Reader:

possessive!Regina where Gretchen tells her a rumour about Reader being reallyyy close to another girl in PE. Regina publicly claims Reader in the hallways, but when they get home Regina is insecure and starts crying, Reader reassures them that they’ve only got eyes for Regina

Bruising Kisses||

|| Regina George x nonbinary!reader

|| Warnings: swearing, possessive Regina, insecure Regina, hinted at smut at the end but no actual details or anything

|| Summary: Gretchen tells Regina about a rumour where reader is close to another girl, Regina publicly claims reader in the hallway. When they get home, Regina's insecurities show and reader assures Regina they only have eyes for her. Lots of kisses.

Requests open!

Started: April 24th

Finished: April 25th

~~~

It was PE. Depending on the day, PE was Regina's least favourite class. She only enjoyed it when it was dodge ball and she could absolutely destroy everyone. Luckily for her, today was one of those days where Coach Carr took out the dodge balls.

Teams were made, Regina being Captain of one and some kid she didn't care enough about to name being the Captain of the other. On her team she had Gretchen, Cady and a bunch of other weirdos she picked because they didn't seem entirely awful. Karen didn't share PE with them, she had it with you in the following period. Otherwise Regina would have picked both of them too.

It was the middle of the game, Regina had already sent one person to the nurse's office and was about to send another there as she pulled back her ball when Gretchen suddenly appeared behind her.

"Regina! Emergency!" Gretchen whisper muttered, the blonde glanced at her in confusion and she motioned for Regina to follow.

Very. Very reluctantly Regina did, Gretchen made some excuse to Coach Carr about how she was getting her water bottle cause she left it in the locker room and the two left the gym.

When in the locker room, Gretchen looks at Regina. She was nervous because she knew she didn't have anything good to tell her.

Regina folded her arms across her chest, eyebrow raised as she watched Gretchen. "Well?"

"I heard a rumour that Y/N's gotten really close with a girl! Karen got from someone else that they were holding hands and being all over each other!" Gretchen rambled out, talking really quickly. Regina's eyes widened.

You were what?

Not if she had anything to say about it.

"Gretchen!" Regina snapped, getting her to stop her nervous ramble as Regina's eyes narrowed. "Who's the girl?"

"I don't know!"

"Find out." Regina was pissed, to say the least. She didn't want to doubt you, you'd been nothing but great to her. She hadn't expected you to go and do something like this. What about this girl was better than her? Her? Regina George? Regina went to her locker and got out her phone, texting you to meet her outside the gym after fifth period.

You had been in social studies when you got the text from Regina, glancing down at your phone.

meet outside the gym. after class.

You felt yourself tense. You could just tell through the way Regina had texted you that she was pissed off. Which was a horrifying thought to you. You and Regina have gotten in fights before and they are never pretty. How you're still alive after some of them you'll never know.

The rest of your class seemed to just drag on as your nervousness grew. Your best friend, Harley Banks, looked at you with a raised eyebrow when she noticed you fidgeting in your seat. She leaned over, resting her hand to your knee.

"Y/N?" Harley whispered, snapping you out of your anxiety for a very brief moment as you glanced at her.

"Huh?"

"You okay?" She asked, concerned for you. She was the friend Gretchen had heard the rumours about.

"Yeah-huh." You nodded, trying to seem like you were fine but you knew Harley knew you better than that. She sighed, but didn't push it since the two of you were in class.

After class, you went to where Regina had asked you to meet her. You saw her standing there, arms folded with an intense gaze in her eyes. Her eyes never leaving you for even a moment. People walked through the halls, glancing in the direction of the two of you. Most of them focusing more on Regina as whispers rang throughout the hall.

When you got close, Regina's hand wrapped around your throat and pulled you in for a rough kiss. Your eyes widened at the suddenness of it, but you melted into it. You figured that would be better than fighting her on it for doing something like this in public. Regina broke off the kiss after a long moment, her thumb trailing across her bottom lip as you stared into her eyes. Remaining silent.

"You're choosing some bitch over me?" Regina's eyes met yours. Your expression shifted to confusion.

"What?"

You had no idea what Regina was talking about. Choosing someone over her?

Regina noticed how genuinely confused you seemed to be, catching her off guard. She had a whole argument planned out... but you seemed to have no idea what she was talking about.

Harley walked over in the worst possible moment, arm draping around your shoulder as you glanced at her and then at Regina who looked beyond pissed. Then it clicked.

She was jealous of Harley.

"Harley, can you just give me a moment? I'll meet you in French, okay?" You said, taking her arm off you. Trying to prevent Regina from going off on the poor girl.

Harley tilted her head at you, then looked at Regina before looking back at you.

"Yeah, okay.." You could tell she was worried, just as she was about to walk away when Regina had grabbed you by your wrist.

Her grip was tight as she pulled you in close to her, her pull rough enough that you're surprised she didn't give you whiplash. Your bodies met and she kissed you again with a kiss so bruising you were sure it would leave some kind of mark. You were caught by surprise, but allowed her to do it and kissed her back.

When Regina broke off the kiss, you were completely breathless. She smirked at you then got the attention of everyone who had been walking through the hall at the time.

"Anyone who so much as touches them," She points at you, her gaze blazing. You could feel the tension in the halls." You can kiss whatever social life you have goodbye."

She was making damn sure the school knew you were hers. An action that made you blush.

Some people glanced at each other, others whispered. You didn't care.

The bell rang and you looked at Regina, who rolled her eyes but nodded and let go of you so you could go to your next class.

~~~

It was now well into the evening, you and Regina were watching a movie. Well not so much watching it as you were making out with each other. Since you had gotten to her place, she hadn't taken her hands off you for even a second.

You broke off the kiss and started to get up, she grabbed you and pulled you back in. You looked at her with a soft gaze.

"I'm just going to the bathroom, Reggie." You whisper to her, she looks into your eyes and you can just tell something was wrong." Baby?"

You decided the bathroom could wait.

Regina clearly needed you.

She wrapped her arms around your lower waist, her grip possessive.

"I just-" She started to say something, but shook her head." Nevermind."

"No, don't do that. Tell me." You try to get the information out of her, she sighs and glances down.

"You wouldn't leave me, would you?" She asked. The question made you pause, blink and stare at her.

"Regina, no. I'd never." You whisper in assurance, your voice soft but firm so she knew you were serious. Your hand come up to touch her cheek and you felt as you leaned into it.

"Swear it." Her tone wasn't harsh, but it wasn't soft. It sounded almost trembly, like she was holding back tears.

You frowned at this," I swear to you, Regina."

She nods, but you could just tell she wasn't convinced. You adjusted yourself as you pulled her into your arms, laying back so she laid on top of you.

"What's going through your pretty mind, baby?" You asked, wanting to know exactly what had her feeling this way.

"Am I too much? What if you get sick of me?" She looked at you, tears formed in her eyes but she looked towards the ceiling and refused to let them fall.

"Regina?" This had you confused.

"I want to cry but my mascara was $48!" You really tried not to laugh, she glared at you when she heard that." It's not funny, Y/N!"

"No, I know. I'm sorry." You stifled your laugh as best as you could, you knew it wasn't funny. But it kind of was at the same time.

"I promise I won't ever be sick of you." You tell her, hoping she believes you. She looks at you and the tears fall as she sees your soft gaze.

"Damn it!" Regina groaned the moment she started crying, her mascara dripping down her face.

"You need to invest in some good waterproof mascara, baby." You grinned, she rolled her eyes and you pulled her closer. Giving the corner of her mouth a soft, comforting kiss.

She paused and narrowed her eyes at you," What was that?"

"What was what?" You looked at her in confusion. Something you seemed to do a lot.

"That kiss, give me a real one." She demanded, now you were rolling your eyes as you rested your hand to the back of her neck and pulled her in for a real, passionate kiss.

She kissed you back and when you broke it you looked down at the blonde that laid on you.

"Are you okay?" You asked, wanting to make sure she was doing okay now. Or better at the very least.

Regina nodded and sighed.

"Good. Now get off cause I really need to go piss," You nudged her off you, which earned you a glare.

You got up and headed to the bathroom, making a mental note to give Regina all your attention tonight. You were going to assure her you wouldn't leave. And damn did you know the best way to do that.

[kusakiguzen]

Hi, I don't know if your requests are open, but I was wondering if you can do a fluff headcannon with the monster trio (luffy, zoro and sanji), ace and law with a selective mute reader hearing them talk a little for the first time as they are getting comfortable with them please.

Hellooo thanks for stopping by!!!

A/N: I'm pretty sure I wasn't able to embody? the selective mutism condition better but I tried.. Soo yeah i hope you enjoy?

Selective mutism

Selective mutism is a complex anxiety disorder that affects an individual’s ability to speak in certain social situations, despite being able to communicate freely in other settings. It is not a matter of “choosing” to speak or remain silent, but rather a phobic response to specific people or environments.

Luffy

You joined the crew during the Alabasta arc, being the younger sister of Vivi and the second princess of the kingdom.

Responsibilities were piled on you when your sister had left making you too busy to do anything.

Sir Crocodile's rule and the Rebel army were giving you a headache and on top of that you had to protect the kingdom.

You had offered yourself to crocodile as exchange to letting your sister go and he agreed.

He left scares, deep scars both emotional and physical, Robin did try to help you but there was only so much she could do.

When your sister returned and recued you, she was horrified seeing your condition, malnourished, abused and littered with wounds. The eyes that once shone lost all their light.

It didn't help that the Marine put bounty on you for god knows what reason.

This caused Vivi to make a difficult choice... To send you away with the Straw Hat crew.

She already spoke to all of them and the reluctantly agreed.

You joined the crew and you helped out in the brains department but never spoke, making the crew believe that you were mute.

Which didn't add up since Vivi told them you used to make speeches often in place of your father.

You on the other had were scared shitless because even if your sister trusted these people you didn't. They were pirates just like Crocodile.

Slowly you started trusting them but still not enough to speak. You also started to develop feeling for your goofy and idiotic captain.

It wasn't long after that your captain popped the question asking you to be his girlfriend, Kudos to Nami who explained to the idiot that he was in love with you.

He never pushed you to speak since he genuinely believed you were mute.

You still didn't speak. Even in Sabaody when you were sent away by Kuma. Leaving an absolutely heartbroken Luffy behind.

Then came the Marine Ford incident and you were absolutely devastated for Your boyfriend and completely ignored his wish to stay away for two years and made your way back.

You met Raylight who took you to Luffy after much begging and practically bowing and holding his feet. He was going to take you to Luffy anyway and panicked hard when you knelt and grabbed his feet.

You arrived at the Island where Luffy was supposed to be training and the moment you saw him, you bolted towards him bringing him into tight hug.

Leaving him in surprise when you started to whisper apologise and and 'I love you-s'

He looked at you shocked and then soon crashes his lips in yours. After the kiss, broke down in your arms while you whispered sweet nothings in his ears.

It was the first time he heard your angelic voice but it certainly won't be his last.

Now he always asked you questions and would not sleep until your whispering in his ears

He had became addicted to your voice and he was also glad that he was the first one to hear it.

P.s. He worked even hared to hear you praise him.

Zoro

You were rescued by Zoro.

You were a slave to the celestial dragon, who would punish you f you spoke making you afraid of speaking in front of them.

There were a few fellow slaves you conversed with but with them to it was only a few words and at most a few sentences.

Zoro had taken you away when his captain punched your master.

He brought you back to the ship and took care of you. Feed you, made you drink water and even bathed you but was stopped by Sanji along with Robin and Nami.

The two women were the one who washed and dressed you.

It took you a while to understand that you can do whatever you wanted and not have to wait around to be ordered.

You finally started to feel comfortable enough to ask the crew members for thing, in writing since you were still scared to speak up.

You stuck with Zoro, following him everywhere. Which at first he found annoying but later he thought you were absolutely adorable.

He developed feeling soon enough, And confessed which you accepted since you felt comfortable with him.

You still didn't speak and relied on writing.

But one day you craved the Sundae that Sanji had made for Nami A few weeks back.

So you asked Zoro to bend down a little and softly spoke that you wanted "that weird thing that Sanji gave to Nami"

He looked at you dumbfounded and when he finally processed what happened, he picked you up and spun you around with a huge smile on his face.

You were surprised when he did that and also confused, he soon bought you closer placing his lips softly on yours, still smiling.

He boasts about how you only talk to him and no one else till you actually start to everyone ( with the help of Zoro).

He loves hearing you praising him and sometimes flexes even more just to hear your soft voice excitetly tell him about how cool he is.

Also loves it when you call him nicknames like "honey" and "darling".

P.s. He also forced Sanji to Make like 5-6 Sundaes for you and double the food you ask Sanji to prepare. Also buys you alot of things ranging from clothes to jewels with Nami or Robin's help.

Sanji

You met him before he joined the crew,

Stranded and starved without money you stumbled across the Baratie Restaurant, they were kind enough to give you food and refuge.

You joined work there soon enough.

Sanji was kind but he was also flirty with other women hence you didn't read much into it.

But feeling develop and you fell, often found yourself jealous of the women he flirted with.

Then came the incident that made him join The Straw Hats pirates.

You were scared that if he left, he wouldn't come back. But all those worries dwindled into nothingness after Luffy asked you to join them, curtsy to Sanji who had kept it as a condition for joining the crew.

Sanji loved you, there was nothing anyone could say to deny that fact. He flirted with women after meeting you, but it was only to see your reaction to confirm if you had feeling for him too.

You were asked to be his girlfriend soon after joining the crew, but yo were hesitent given his history of him fliting but you accepted none the less.

Sanji did a complete 180 after he started dating you, meaning no flirting with other women or simping for them. You were the apple of his eyes, his goddess.

He too never forced you to speak, because he believed that you were mute, and the reason you comunicated through writing sometimes.

The first time you spoke to him was when you both were enjoying the beautiful moon alone, accompanied with comfortable silence.

It was a simple "I Love you" and " Thank you for being patient with me"

After he heard you speak he actually thought that it was his mind playing games considering he believed you couldn't speak. But when you repeated your words again with a soft smile, He brought you close initiating a soft and passionate kiss.

Safe to say he cried but reassured you that it was happy tears since you were panicking thinking you did something wrong.

He noticed that you only spoke when you were both alone or soft whispers if you couldn't get Sanji in privacy.

He was overjoyed and even helped you open up to others with futile effort but he was patient

He would whisper praises and reminding you how much he loved you and you reciprocating.

P.s. The first time the crew heard your voice was on the Whole Cake Island when Sanji was said to marry Pudding. Oh the colorful words you said sent shivers down every one's spines, and not in a good way. It took Sanji a long time to be forgiven.

I literally cannot come up with scenarios for Ace and Law right now for some reason. So I'm posting for these three right now and will post for the other when I do get an Idea worth posting.

And I'm sorry if I got the selective mutism wrong.

I still hope you will enjoy.

Stay Safe Heathy and Hydrated!

[lushaletta]

the dark lord and his distraction / tom riddle

pairing: tom riddle x fem!reader

content: muggleborn!reader, swearing

summary: you distract tom from his plans. and he hates it.

a/n: this is my pt. 2 to the lamb and her wolf! idk if i like this but i kinda do but Arghh idk. there will prob be a part 3. love u guys!

read part one here!

⋆ ࣪.  ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

“Hello!” you chirp, skipping over, books in hand.

Tom’s not looking for company. In fact, he was actively avoiding it. He couldn’t continue to be distracted by you. He had work to be done, meetings to be held. But he’s a weak man recently. “Hello.”

You set your things down and lace your arms around his neck suddenly. He’s absolutely horrified. “Thank you for your help studying, Tommy, I’ve passed my exam with full marks!”

He clears his throat and you leave a patch of goosebumps in your wake. “You’re welcome,” he drawls. “You wouldn’t have to spend so much extra time revising if you’d only paid attention in class.”

Tom knows you’re merely a distraction, an inconvenience to be ignored. Deadweight to his plans. You’d be a mistake. It’s obvious what he should do. He should send you off on your merry way and end whatever friendship has blossomed between you, so you at least have a chance at living. For someone so obsessed with immortality, Tom knew he was a dead man the moment you strut into his life, all smiles and Mary Jane’s. But he’s selfish, and so you were dead right with him, that very minute.

He doesn’t like anything you bring. He doesn’t like the reactions you elicit from calling him Tommy and he doesn’t like how you make him happy. Or hopeful. There is no hope for him. He’s destined to live a half-life and he doesn’t like that he wants to make you live that life too.

And you’re not entirely stupid. You know there’s something strange about him and that’s exactly why you come every day with your books and snacks. You’re curious. He’s haunting— a concoction of allure and fear and it’s all but enticing. “Well, who wants to do that? You’re a far better teacher.”

His face casts the ghost of a smile. “Don’t you have chess club in 15 minutes?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there,” you say, easily. Then the realisation dawns on you: You’ve never given him your schedule. “Wait a second,” you laugh. “How do you know that?”

He holds an even tone. “Not hard to guess.”

You blink. Change the topic. “You’re very pretty, you know?”

His knees almost give out and he’s seated comfortably on a chair. “Thank you,” he whispers, trying hard not to sound surprised. He’s not unaware of his good looks, but how anyone could be so casual about it is beyond him.

You’re an aberration, he thinks. No, he’s sure. You write notes in the margins of his textbooks and fall asleep on his shoulder. And when you do so, you let out the cutest little snores and purr. Like a fucking kitten. It drives him to insanity and even deeper into his spiral.

“No, like, you are super pretty. It’s kind of otherworldly.”

He’s not too sure what to say. He’s never rendered speechless by anyone, but fuck, you’re his exception to just about everything. Instead, he stiffens and breathes out a small, “That’s kind.”

Your cheeks dimple and Tom swears he sees his future. But that’s crazy. He has to remember who you are and hell, who he is. He’s the Dark Lord, evil, no matter how you see him in that pretty head of yours. And you’re a filthy Mudblood.

It’s been two days and he hasn’t seen you anywhere. He’s starting to think there *is* no cure to his hysteria because he acts crazy in both your presence and absence. He thinks about you too much in both. He’s looked everywhere; in all your classes and even your dorm that he’s managed to find.

He’s about giving up. There is no point because you’re meant to be temporary.

“Hi,” you say, breathlessly as you appear behind him, startling him into oblivion. He’s a skilled Legilimens so he should’ve heard your thoughts as you creeped up, but he was too busy with his own about you.

He conceals his relief and narrows his eyes. “You have been gone.”

You look a little disheveled but beautiful as ever. Tom doesn’t sweat, but it feels like he’s going to. “Family stuff. You know how it goes!”

Tom doesn’t know how it goes. He’s used to abandonment and lonely holidays. He doesn’t know how it goes but he knows how it feels to dread the Christmases and Easters and summers because all he can look forward to is disappointment.

He winces. You notice and cringe. You don’t know much about his family but judging by that reaction, it’s no good. “Mm,” he manages. It’s silence for a bit. Comfortable silence. He’s secretly relishing in your company. “I didn’t like it when you were gone.”

What a fucking tool.

The corners of your lips curl into a soft grin. “You are adorable!” you giggle. He’s mortified.

You haven’t really told any of your friends about your blooming acquaintanceship with Tom Riddle. After all, he’s not really known for his friendliness. But you trust Camilla. And you’ve used up the last of your excuses for bailing on meals to study with him.

“Riddle. Are you joking me?”

Your eyebrows quirk up. “No. He’s a breath of fresh air from the Hogwarts hustle. Not much of a talker though. I do most of that.”

She smiles a little like it’s expected of you but it fades once she refocuses. “He doesn’t like us Muggleborns, you know.”

“That’s silly.”

“Only true. I heard Mulciber whispering about it. Like, they really don’t like us. No wonder he’s such a git towards me in class.”

“Have you ever actually spoken to Tom, though?” You fold your arms over your chest. You’re not too sure why you’re being defensive.

“Well, no—“

“That’s what I thought! You don’t give people chances, Camilla. You rely on gossip to fuel your opinions,” you spit.

Camilla puts her hands up in surrender and starts talking about the cute Ravenclaw boy she’s planning to ask out.

“Oh! And I think Murphy fancies you! He asked me to ask you how you felt about him.”

You thought about him for a moment. He’s nothing special but he’s attractive and you’re honestly willing to give it a shot.

Tom is fuming, hearing what you think. Listening from around the corner and it’s creepy and borderline stalker-ish but he’s begun to feel a strange protectiveness over you. Frenzy and all that.

So, yes. You’re merely a distraction, an inconvenience to be ignored. Deadweight to his plans. But… you were a desire. A selfish, greedy desire.

And Tom always gets what he wants.

taglist for this series! @helalokithor @mli345 (can’t find ur blog so sorry!!) lmk if u want to be added!

[slimybeth69]

Touch

Summary: The Mandalorian is quite interested in what you've been doodling. What happens when he finds out?

Rating: Explicit

Warnings/tags- eventual angst, slow burn, graphic depictions of wounds and violence, eventual non-con, eventual therapy speak, Grogu, Mando takes off his helmet, so much shit happens in this story.

This was very much inspired by the legendary Rough Day. It's such an incredible story and so well written. Don't have as high hopes for this, it's mostly just me being horny for Din Djarin.

unbeta'd, probably not proof-read because of my ADHD.

SORRY EVERYBODY ELSE

Chapter 2 ->

“What are you doing?” He asked raspily through the voice modulator. You roll your eyes. It’s the second or third time he’s asked you that since you guys found a place to let the child run around and play. Eat a creature or two. 

“Nothing.” You said it for the second or third time. He says nothing in response but you can feel him looking at you. Maybe. You’re never sure with the helmet. That stupid helmet that makes you look right back at your stupid face every time he says something stupid to you.

Okay. That’s a little harsh, per se, but he’s been harsh on you for everything lately. Little messy in the ship? On you about it. The child crying? On you. Something that you had absolutely no control whatsoever over happening inside, around or to the ship? He was fucking on you.

It was exhausting honestly. If it hadn’t been for the credits and honestly, the cute ass kid you might not have stuck around. But you were so desperate to get away. Apparently so desperate you asked him for a ride out of the Canto Casino. No, you begged.

And for whatever reason– it's clear to you now it’s because he needed someone to be mean to– he said yes. And then offered you seventy-five credits a week for as long as you stayed and watched after the kid and cleaned up after both of them. You drew the line at cooking anything because you experienced a burn first hand once, and will never do that again. Not even after he offered three extra credits a week. Not happening, Mando. No way.

Especially not for him . Being so mean all the time. 

You could see Mando out of the corner of your eye shift and try to see what you were doing in your notebook but you dropped your shoulder over it and pulled it tightly into your chest. 

“What’re you doing?” You turn your head to look at him. 

“Trying to see what you’re doing.” He said simply. It was so frank, yeah, that’s what he’s doing. Obviously . “What are you doing?” The little inflection in his words made your heart race for a second. As if he might actually be interested and not just bored of watching the child run around in the grass after small creatures to devour. 

The first time you saw the child eat something, it horrified you, but it grew to be just a little endearing the way he’d chase after it, jump and pounce on it a few times and then snatch it up for a lil’ snack. Just a quick one; the way he’d swallow it hole. You lost track of how long it’d been since then but it wasn’t a long time. Just long enough for you to forget to keep track anymore. 

“Why are you so interested?” You ask him, keeping the notebook tightly to your chest. Mando sits back and looks forwards.

“I don’t know.” He garbles through the modulator.

“Then you don’t get to see.” You tease but you wonder if he even knows what that is. Teasing . 

He’s never even once cracked one little joke with you in all this time. So probably not. Either that or he thinks you’re incredibly unfunny. Which is a possibility. You did try very very hard to impress him with whatever weird homemaker skills he expected you to have. You had literally none so he was very thoroughly unimpressed , to say the least. 

The dirty clothes and dishes around the ship were one thing, but it was the child's incessant crying that really made him ‘ raise his tone’ with you. Not really but he did say in a few very colorful words that you needed to do better. 

But really you just needed to bond with the little green sucker. Mando had thrown you into this ship with that thing? Baby? You really didn’t know or care, but he threw you in there and then shut the door and went on his merry way. For four days. Without even so much as an introduction. 

The kid was scared shitless of you for the entire time Mando was gone. It took the child almost two weeks to warm up to you. You didn’t know where anything was, or what to do, and were left to fend for yourself. It took you exactly thirty minutes of crying to figure out that the child wanted to be outside and the kid didn’t have any kind of harness or tether. Which was terrifying because what if you lost it? You had been so scared the child was going to run away but the kid didn’t. Well... did at first and then you tired it out; chasing for what felt like two hours. 

Then only once did the child have it's fill of an entire ecosystem of poor unfortunate creatures smaller than your foot, did he go back and lay himself down in that floating bassinet in the ship.

You had to lay down on the floor beside him after shutting the ship up, just to rest your eyes for a minute because that kinda cute little thing– asleep in that floating orb– had tired you out. And you didn’t wake up until that cute little thing had pried your eyelids open to show you the mess he had made. Pulled out everything that he could get his six little grubby fingers on

That had been day one . Things had gotten a little better since then. A little .

Every time you turned your back to clean up one mess, the little cutie would just run in the opposite direction and make a different mess somewhere else. This was the hardest job you’ve ever had. Easily. The child was a handful. There was something about the way he snuggled into when it was time for bed though, and it stole the heart right out of your chest. The way he’d bring you different colored rocks and bugs and show you them in wonder and amazement before he tried to eat them. When Mando was gone, it was just you two so you had plenty of time to bond, the Mandalorian was busy. Very busy indeed. 

Busy informing you that you didn’t put things away correctly, didn’t wash things the way he liked and needed to figure it out. You had to explain to him that people normally get at least a couple hours of training. Maybe a tour around, to show them where things are and where things go . He didn’t seem to understand that the reason you weren't doing a great job straight away was partially his fault. Or he just didn’t care. 

It’s . fine .

It’s almost like he’s a bounty hunter who has no patience for anything besides the child. 

And he’s got barely any for the green baby, so, it’s been a very pleasant time so far.

Maker. Okay. You’d also have very little patience for anything if you had to wear that beskar all the time. He was always in that suit, always. You hadn’t even caught a glimps of a wrist or his neck. Nothing. Not even an ankle. You knew the Mandalorians couldn’t let anyone see their faces, like ever , so you understood but, sheesh. It was always on. You didn’t even know what he did at night because you were usually asleep with the child before him. And he was always up before you.

 You told him once you’d blindfold yourself just so he could breathe if he wanted to. He’s never taken you up on the offer, surprisingly. 

So now in the present, still sour with him for being mean and because he’d never answered your question about what color his hair is, you doodled what he might look like in your little notebook you always had on you. Mostly pictures of the child because he was slowly winning you over with those eyes. And because he’s all you seen for however long you’ve been out here. But Mando had been back for a couple days. Longer than normal. You’d been spending a lot of time together, the three of you.

So for the last couple days you had been compelled to doodle Mando. What he might look like under that helmet and in some of your more explicit doodles– maybe what he looked like under that suit too.

The beskar protected him well. 

Too well.  

Maker. 

Okay, no. The beskar saved his life, protected him. Absolutely. But like, it left everything to the imagination. Which was frustrating. Because as much as you wanted to leave where you had been living, you had imagined seeing another person besides the child and Mando at least once. Maybe get a night off and talk to someone about something other than the kid, the ship and the bounty he’s currently after. 

Alas no, you’ve been stuck on the ship and now the primal desires inside of you are starting to flicker like a little flame. Tiny. Unnoticed by you, even. The doodling really was mindless at first, but your mindlessness was what Mando’s lower stomach looked like.

The notebook was still pressed against your chest. 

“So I can’t see?” He asked, looking at the child playing in the field. 

“Nope. Sure can’t.” Even if he had told you why he wanted to look at your notebook, you wouldn’t have let him. He would have had to pry it from your cold dead hands, and then you’d have been fighting him from whatever afterlife there could be. Fighting for the last shred of dignity you have. 

“I could take it from you.” He said like he had been inside your fucking head. Your heart is beating inside your throat and you unintentionally grip it tighter against you.

“I know.” You say. Your whole body frozen in fear. Like, was it a threat? An observation he had just made in his head? “ Why would you do that?” 

It was a weird thing for him to say. You’re leering at him over your shoulder, watching to see if he makes any sudden movements towards you so you can toss your notebook in the small fire he’s made. You might do it anyway because what is he even talking about? Taking it from you?

“Because.” Emotionless rasp from the modulator. “I’d like to see.” No inflection. Nothing. Just staring at the kid who was jumping off the ground slightly trying to catch a small flying bug. He couldn’t get it. 

But it had been said nicer than the other times. You couldn’t put your finger on it because it had sounded exactly the same, honestly, but there was just something behind the words he chose. 

I’d like to see.

Like he was some little kid who just wanted to look at what you were looking at. So innocent. Like he wasn’t a bounty hunter who had killed so many people in just the short time you had known him. And he wanted to look in your notebook. 

And now you had to tell him no again. Because what the shit? You can’t show him the very detailed drawing you’ve done of his pants pulled down to just the base of him and his curly patch of pubic hair that rents space there. You have no idea what the base of him looks like, it’s all made in your head. 

But the doodles are there. Sure are. In the notebook. That’s not imagined. No. The notebook and doodles are there. The notebook happens to be opened up to a page that has the deep indentation of muscles on both sides, a v of just pure rock hard strength and power that lead down to where you’ve been thinking about touching him lately. The little trail of hair that leads from his belly button; where you would oh so love to place your tongue, all the way down to where that v meets right–

Okay stop it right now, this is too much, you’re getting distracted from the point. You very carefully flip back multiple pages of the notebook so that there’s no chance that he could see what you’ve been working on as of late. But now, you peek down and check to see– the drawings of the child, okay. Phew. 

You hold up the notebook. You have to pull it back a couple inches when he tries to take it. He tilts his head down at you for just a moment when you do that and then looks back to the page you’re showing him. He studies it for so long that you wonder if he’s fallen asleep. Your arm is starting to ache. You've been holding it for so long. 

“You’ve captured his greeness quite well, somehow, without color.” He says, still emotionless but… did he just try and exchange banter with you? 

“We can hang it in the ship, right above his bassinet.” You tease. He’s so damn particular with his ship. Not wanting you to change anything . So there’s no way that he’d let you hang up a doodle of anything.

“That’d be fitting.” 

Oh my Maker. Please give me strength to deal with this- this- whatever this is. Because what he happens to be, is impossible. Impossible to read. Impossible to predict. Nothing about him is like anyone you’ve ever met.

“What was on the other page?” His modulator voice scares you, laying there silently on your stomach with your eyes closed. If you had a free hand you would have pressed your fingers to the bridge of your nose in slight annoyance. But you didn’t. You were laying on the free one and still holding the notebook. But when he said that , you pulled it back into your chest.

“What other page?” You snap. You can feel the heat rushing to your face. 

“The one you’re hiding from me.” 

Okay , Maker. Real nice. Real real funny. Give him some emotion now .

This is the first time you ever wished Mando would stop talking. Except for when he was mad at you. But now, he’s chatting you up and you wish he’d shut up. Just leave you alone.

Very funny, Maker. 

“I’m not hiding anything.” You say it so matter of factly like you’re willing it to be true. 

“I saw you.” 

“You didn’t see anything. I’m surprised you can see anything behind that helmet.” You flutter the notebook back at him in dismissal. 

Mando is silent for a long time.

“It actually helps me see-” 

“ Oh Maker . It was a joke . Do you know what a joke is?” You exclaim. “I know the helmet allows you to see better. I know that. I was making a joke.” You’re so frustrated now that you actually move your hand from under your chest and put your two fingers on the bridge of your nose and sigh. 

“You’re-” He pauses for a long time. “-annoyed with me?” 

You’re not expecting him to say that.

“I’m not exactly pleased , no. But I’m not annoyed. No.” You explain to him.

“So can I see the other page, then?” 

You throw the notebook in your bag quickly and snap it shut. 

“I think you should see if you can us food to eat, maybe? I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” You think for a second, “I’ve never seen you eat, actually, so, maybe you're not. I don’t know.” You speak nervously, the words continue to come out even though you wish you’d just shut up. “I know the kid is probably full off whatever thriving colony of small things he’s decimated. So, I’ll put him to bed while you see if you can find dinner or something.” You get up, take your bag with you and go grab the child from whatever life threatening way he’s found to entertain himself and bring him into the ship with you.

You set everything down on the floor behind the cockpit– your makeshift bedroom– and give the child a quick wipe down with a damp cloth, making sure he doesn’t have any crud or muck in any of his little fold or behind his comically large ears. And then you rock him to sleep. It takes ages– so long– for him to finally settle down and relax. He closes his big eyes while you rock him for more ages until you’re sure that he won't wake up when you lay him down. 

Which is annoying , because he can put himself down for a nap no problem, little thing tires itself out murdering small animals and just lays himself down when he’s tired, passes out within minutes. The minute the sun goes down? Nocturnal. The child has no idea what you mean when you say it’s time for bed. 

You tried to let him put himself to sleep once and Mando told you that he’d cut your credits in half if the kid ever cried like that again. It was worse than crying. It was wailing and screaming unlike anything you’ve heard in your life. The child must be rocked to sleep at night. That was an every night routine.  You deal with the child.  When Mando was around, he’d get you food during that time.

Once you were back outside, a meal had been caught and cooked for you. You assume that in your absence he fed himself, comfortably knowing you’d be gone for the next several eternities putting the child to sleep. 

“Thank you.” You’re hungry. Starving actually. You hadn’t realized how hungry you actually were. All your time and energy has been focused on keeping that little green baby alive that you have sometimes forgotten to take care of yourself. You keep yourself clean, yes. Easy to do when you have to clean the child every day. Eating and all the other stuff? Eh. Forgotten about now that the kid’s around chasing bugs and feeding himself. 

It’s fine. You’re thankful regardless because traveling around the galaxy, seeing things you’ve only ever heard about in stories . Even if you haven’t spoken to a singular other person besides Mando and the child. You have seen such incredible things and for that, you are thankful for Mando.

Very thankful.

Okay! Okay. You’ve gotta be in heat or something. Something! Because why is the way he’s looking at you is making between your legs throb? Okay now you know something is really wrong with you because what the stars, he’s got a helmet on. He could be looking over your shoulder or just over the horizon behind you but he’s got his gaze turned right to you. It’s like you can feel his eyes on you. You wonder what color they could be. Blue? Brown? Green?

“Pretty good.” You say, holding up whatever he caught and killed for you. You stopped asking what it was because you didn’t always like the answer, but it was always… edible. 

“So. That page?” 

You roll your eyes at him. Why oh why is he bringing it up again, the sun has gone down now and it’s been so long since that conversation. It’s old. Dead. Buried. 

“You’ve never taken an interest in anything I do, unless I’m doing it wrong, and then you scold me for it. Now, I’ve got one thing that’s mine and you’re trying to-” You’re huffing at him, actually annoyed now.

“A secret ?” He’s curious. An emotion. 

“It’s not a secret, it's just not– it’s not something I want other people to see.” You say very truthfully. “I don’t think.” You add to soften the statement. He’s actually talking to you about something besides the usual things.

“Why?” 

Maker, with the questions?

“Because.” It’s a simple response but it’s all you’ve got. 

“It would make me upset?” You look over at him and he’s positioned in exactly the same way he was when you looked away from him. Staring at you. You think. At least now he’s talking to you. 

But how do you answer that? 

Because yes, it would make him upset. It would make him very upset. It’d make you very embarrassed, and you think that's what's most worrying. The possibility of having to sit in the ship with him after. Now he knows that you’ve been thinking about him? Like that ? 

He can leave you here. It’s fine. You’ll figure it out. 

“No.” You lie to him. Then you feel bad for lying to him because you’re unsure if he’s even capable of lying. You’re not sure. He does seem like an innocent soul, minus all the killing. “Okay. Maybe. I don’t really know what upsets you other than when I mess something up, so I don’t really have much to go on.”

“I’m sorry.” He says and it forces the air out of your lungs like someone just punched you in the back. “I’ve–I’ve had a lot on my mind.” 

Maker, what is going on? Am I dead? 

“I shouldn’t take it out on you. You do good with the child.” 

You’re completely stunned. You cannot form a sentence. You cannot even think. Did he just compliment you? And apologize to you? Surely, you’re dead. 

“Thanks.” Is all you can manage to say and now, he’s warming up to you and you’re throwing water on the fire. 

“You could clean better, though.” 

And then you laugh because yes, you’re still alive and he is actually the Mando you barely know. And he did just apologize for being mean. And took accountability. And insulted you. 

It’s late now and the child will be awake in a couple hours. You’re asleep. Enjoying the thin mat that’s your bed and your warm blankets. You’re in a dream floating amongst the stars and skies, Mando’s floating with you, touching you so sweetly, and then, there is a hand on your arm. A strong one. 

It’s almost alarming, but then you open your eyes and it’s pitch black. So dark. Darker than you’ve ever seen it in the ship and now  it is entirely alarming. You go to scream but there is a warm hand over your mouth. 

“Don’t.” The modulated voice says quietly in the dark. You immediately relax and the terror stops ripping through you long enough for you to get angry. Very angry. After you hastily wrap the blankets around yourself, you pull your mouth away from his hand.

“Why? Why would you turn off all the lights– every single one? Huh? And then shake me awake like that?” You’re whispering, shouting at him. Your heart is still pounding and his hand is still tightly wrapped around your upper arm.

It’s quiet for a long time

“I didn’t shake you.” 

“Oh my Mak-” You whisper. “You know what I mean, you startled me awake in the darkness. Might as well be the same thing!” You’re exasperated. You had just fallen asleep and now this? Being throttled awake the way you just were? What was he gonna yell at you about now? What had he found that had made him grab you the way he had? Was still grabbing you.

“Sorry.” 

The raspy modulator voice in the dark is terrifying. Even if it’s being nice to you.

“What do you want?” You grumble angrily. “I was sleeping so well– so well and you’re throwing me around in my sleep.” You go to turn over but he stops you, squeezing your upper arm tighter. 

“I saw it.” It’s quiet, but there is some emotion behind the words. What emotion? You can’t be sure just yet. It’s something you’ve never heard from him before. It’s hard to tell in the void you’re in.

“Saw it? Saw what? How can you see anything here?” The sleep is still heavy in your brain and you’re also still terrified. Yes, less terrified knowing that it’s Mando gripping you like this in the dark and not an intruder, but why is he doing this? That is terrifying. Horrifying. 

“The page.” 

You gasp in even more pure, real horror and pull your arm from his grasp but he doesn’t allow it, he grips you tighter and in the dark you can hear him breathing under his mask. You thought you were scared before but not like this. Your heart is threatening to break free from the bone cage it’s safely hidden behind and you feel like you’re going to be sick. Your stomach is clenching and twisting inside of you. Sweat starts to bead your forehead and the back of your neck. 

“ Okokokokokok I’m so sorry. Please don’t kill me please, Mando, plea– I’m really, really scared to die and I don’t wanna go like this . In the dark? No. No , ple–  not in front of the child! Okay?” The silence around you now is deafening, you can’t even hear him breathing anymore and if it weren’t for the choking grip on your arm, you would think he had left. You’re begging for your life because this isn’t how you imagined dying. Not over doodles.

“I’m not mad.” He says quietly. Still raspy but soft. 

“Y-you’re not?” You’re too stunned to say more. Ask why, see if he liked it, nothing else comes to mind. You’re glad he’s not going to leave you outside to fend for yourself tonight. 

“Did you- did you think I was going to kill you?” Raspy modulated whispers come out of the darkness.

“Yes!” You whisper at him with a still beating like crazy heart in your chest. It’s about to burst out of you. “Why wou-” He cuts you off.

”They’re good.” He garbles quietly. 

“What is!? What’s good?” The fog in your head hasn’t lifted at all, and you’re so confused. What the stars is he talking about.

 “I looked at all of the pages.” He sighed out. It didn’t sound as gentle as it may have  meant behind the voice modulator. Still garbled and distorted. 

All the pages? All. Of. The. Pages. There were doodles of yourself in that notebook. Doodles of what you look like behind your clothes. The other pages in that notebook held secrets, real secrets and now you were even more mad at him. He could just invade your privacy? You got to have no secrets while his whole existence to you besides what he chooses to tell you? Unacceptable. The anger was bubbling under your skin now.

“You did what!?” It was still whispered as to not wake the child. “That was in my bag! You went through my stuff to get it? Are you sick?” He was holding on to you tighter and it was starting to actually hurt now. “Ow!” You snap at him and tug your arm away quickly and this time he lets you go. 

“Sorry. I had to know.” Garbled attempt at an apology from the darkness. You realize then that he hadn’t had his gloves on. You had felt his skin on yours. Hot calloused skin against yours. Gripping you the way he had been. You’d have bruises in the morning. Of his very real fingers on your flesh.

“You’re sorry!? That’s it?.” You have to force yourself not to yell at him because if this wakes the child up and you don’t get to go back to sleep, you’re going to quit. Walk right out. “You still haven’t answered my question!” He hadn’t. What did he want from you? If it wasn’t to kill you for seeing the drawings, then what did he want?

Nothingness surrounds you. For so long, you’re staring into the emptiness waiting for something . Some kind of response and then you hear him clear his throat. 

“I forgot what you asked me.” His garbled confession comes through in the dark. 

“You forgot? I just asked you wha-”

“The way you draw... it’s incredible.” You can hear him rustling through pages in the dark. The fluttery, scratchy sounds of pages, like a notebook. 

“A-are you-” You stumble over the words because you can’t actually believe this is happening. “D-do you s-still have it ?” You are fuming. “It’s so fucking dar-” and then you gasp loudly at the recollection that he  has night vision in that fucking helmet of his!

The child cries out softly in his sleep and you hear him rolling over and you and presumably him, freeze for what feels like forever before you accept that the baby is still asleep. You don’t know because you don’t have night vision. Then you whip your head back in the direction he’s in. You think he’s in. You honestly have no idea. There is no light coming in from anywhere and your eyes haven’t adjusted at all in the dark. 

You check your face to see if he’s blindfolded you. You pat your hands over your forehead and eyes when you’re completely sure that you’re just now blind for however long he wants you to be, you let your arms drop to your sides in frustration. 

“You’re still looking at it!” You point into the darkness accusingly, remembering he is in fact still holding your notebook. “Are you still looking at it?” You move your finger in a semi circle when you can’t actually decide where he’s kneeling beside you. The darkness is so disorientating. You have no idea where anything actually is anymore. 

“I can’t stop looking at it. I’m sorry.” He confesses from somewhere in the dark. “The bodies you drew are j-just so beautiful.” 

“They’re doodles.” You’re sweating. What is he doing in the dark looking at your doodles? You reach out into the darkness and you hear him take a shuffled step backwards, towards the center of the room. 

“What was your inspiration for them?” His raspy voice is different, like he’s not really here with you, it’s like he’s on that page with them.

“Just… my imagination ?” You lie in hopes he’s going to believe you. 

Silence. 

It’s anxiety inducing. He’s just somewhere in the darkness. With your notebook. 

“The woman's body is my favorite. She’s so…” Garbled modulator trails off. 

Maker. He has a favorite?  

You’re now hyper aware of the fact that if he can see your notebook in his hand, he absolutely can see you too. Oh Maker. 

Why was it suddenly so hot? When did it get so hot?

Your whole body is now prickled with sweat that he’s standing there in the dark. Assumed to be looking right at you and your artistic notebook.

There had been nothing sexual about your doodles at first. Really. They were just the only thing besides the child and the inside of the ship. And sometimes the fields he’d take you to, like the one you’re in now. So all of those things are in that notebook too. But he was looking at the couple pictures you decided to draw of yourself, because the human body is a work of art. Yours and Mandos just happened to be the only bodies around. 

“Just my imagination.” You don’t even know what you’re saying. Just words you’ve strung together fall out of your mouth for no reason known to you.

Silence for so long, you’re sure he’s not there anymore.

“Y-you already said that.” Modulator speaks in the dark.

“I did? Are you sure?” You’re one hundred percent sure you didn’t.

“Yes.” 

“What do you want? Why did you wake me up? Why are we just standing in the dark?” The questions are firing out of your mouth at the speed of a blaster pistol. “What? What do you want from me?” 

Mando say’s nothing for a long time. You cross your arms over your chest uncomfortably in the quiet. 

“Is this you? The woman?” He taps on the pages and you hear him do it in the dark. “Is this what you l-look like under your c-clothes?” 

“Why are you talking like that? What are you-” You’ve never heard him speak the way he is tonight, no. He’s commanding in his tone and what he says. Mando doesn’t stumble over his words. 

“Answer the question.” He interrupts you. “Please.” His tone is much more firm now. You’ve snapped him out of whatever trance he was in. 

“Maybe.” It’s not even an admittance of guilt and you’re already blushing in embarrassment. 

“It’s beautiful.” He’s breathless and somewhere in your notebook again. Presumably touching it with his ungloved fingers. 

In between your legs twinges. 

“Thank you.” You’re blushing so hard you think your cheeks are going to combust.

Then more quiet. For so long. It’s painful.

“Would you l-let me touch it?” He whispers through the modulator. 

“Touch it?” You don’t get it. “You’re holding it, what do-” And then you shut up because you realize what he’s talking about. It comes to you mid sentence.

It’s quiet again now. So quiet. The dark you could deal with if there was just something making some kind of noise beside yourself breathing in the abyss. You’re waiting for a response but you get nothing. A sigh from your nose. 

“You want to touch me ?” You don’t want to say it, but you’re desperate to hear anything in the void. You’re also so tired and sleep deprived because of the child, you might let him if he just got to the point so you could go back to bed. He’s been on your mind for the last week. The only reason you dream anymore, apparently. 

“Yes.” Honest and innocent garbles from the modulator. You smirk. “And-” But he stops. 

“And what?” You’re so curious what else could go along at his request. But he says nothing again. More blistering silence. It’s actually burning the inside of your ears. 

“Watch.” 

Maker, give this mandalorian the ability to say more than one word, please. I don’t know how much more patience I have left inside of me. 

“Watch what? What do you want from me?” You haven’t said no. That’s something you start to notice as you wait for him to respond to you. Haven’t said yes but you also haven’t said no. 

So, what could he want?

“Can I show you?” Your breath hitches in your throat because what the hell could that mean? 

“Oh-okay?” So hesitant. So fucking nervous. Your heart was beating fast this whole exchange with him but now it was beating somewhere in the base of your throat. Hard. 

“Lay down.” It’s said from much closer to you now, startlingly close. You hadn’t heard him get closer. How did he do that? But you obey his order and lay back down on your thin mat on the floor. You can feel him hovering over you. Then suddenly, the blankets are being torn off of you and you're exposed to the now suddenly freezing cold ship. 

He’s exposed you. You wear nothing but a thin nightgown to bed every night. It’s the only thing that isn’t scratchy in your little bag of clothes and it does get surprisingly warm in the ship at night when everything’s closed up. It’s refreshing normally, but not now. Now you’re freezing and your nipples are giving you away in the darkness at how cold and excited you are for what might be about to happen. 

You hear him respire sharply into the modulator and your nipples somehow get harder and that tingle in between your legs is back. You just made Mando gasp ? You’ve never once heard that sound come out of him. Okay, once when the child almost fell out his floating orb, but that was only once and it was different . There had been fear interlaced with that gasp but not this one.

He was admiring you in the dark through his night vision. A gasp of admiration? 

Mando still hasn’t touched you at all besides the painful grasp on your arm earlier but that was it. He hadn’t ever touched you before that, ever. Now he had asked if he could and you were trembling already waiting to see what he had meant.

“Be like the pictures.” He cooed it out, the modulator garbling it all up but still. It was cooed, you heard it with your own ears. But you obeyed again, pulling the loose straps of your nightgown down your shoulders. It was easily wriggled off the rest of you and then, the nightgown was just a mess of fabric in front of your mat. 

“ Oh Maker. ” He speaks so softly it doesn’t even sound like Mando. You start to wonder if it is really him and then he says, “More beautiful. Much more.” He sighs it out and it makes you melt into the mat you're laying on.

You want him to touch you so bad. So badly it is sending electricity through you, starting between your legs. 

“Can you s-spread them?” He asked so cautiously that you were unsure that he even wanted but the sound he made when you bent your knees and let them fall open to your sides made you start to leak from the place he wanted to look at you so badly. 

“Like this?” You knew that, yes, it’s exactly what he meant but you were now so obsessed with listening to his voice that you’d ask him anything to hear him speak. 

“Yes. Yes.” It’s said hastily into the voice modulator, like if he doesn’t answer you’ll close your legs on him. “Just like that.”

You almost jump back at the feeling of the tips of his fingers on you. Pressing so gently into the soft skin on your thighs but you remember why you’re down here on the mat, naked below Mando. That’s all he does, just traces the pads of all five of his fingers up and down your thigh, stroking you with a feather touch. It almost felt like he might not be touching you at all, like you’re imagining it. 

He exhales deeply and it registers from under the helmet. 

“Were you- were you just holding your breath?” You ask.

Quiet, his hand still stroking your thigh so gently. 

“Maybe.” 

You smirk in the dark and rest your head back on your pillow and let him do whatever he wants. Then an ungloved hand reaches and touches you the same way across your stomach. So lightly it almost tickles but you don’t want him to stop so you don’t move. You let everything be still underneath his hands. They move leisurely across your body, never stopping in one place, like he’s scanning the pages of a book and using his hands to follow along. 

You’re covered in goosebumps and almost quivering under him but it feels so fucking good that it doesn’t matter anymore. You reach out and try to put his hand where you’d like it but before you can touch him he removes his hands and you’re left alone in the dark again. 

He’s gone. You’re sure of it and you’re on the verge of tears when he says from the dark.

“Will you touch yourself?” This wasn’t a demand or an order, this was a sweet question asked by that innocent man who wanted to look at your notebook earlier. 

“You want me to do what?” Deadpan response to what’s asking of you. Because what in the stars is going on? Please help me understand, Maker. “You wanted to do it a minute ago?” Confusion. 

It’s not like you're confused about what he wants you to do, you have been with a man before but not like this and he definitely did not ask you to do that . No one else has even seen you do that before so why does he want you to do it all of a sudden? Like he’s at the theater and you’re the midnight showing. He stays silent for so long that you’re sure he left. 

“I w-want to w-watch,” Garbled muttering. “-you touch.” Now, you’re sweating again because the idea that maybe he wanted to touch you had you shivering on the floor in front of him, but now, the idea that he wants to watch you do one of the most private things you’ve ever done right in front of him? On the floor? And worse, you can’t even see where the fuck he is now that he’s pulled his feather touch away from you. 

Sweating. It’s beaded across your forehead because what? You’re still thinking about what he’s just said when a strong, hot calloused hand cups your dripping sex with much more force than before. He’s pressed the flat of his four fingers and his palm against you. It draws a gasp from you in the dark and you bring your hands up to your mouth to cover them because if the kid woke up now you’d throw yourself off a cliff.

The child thankfully, doesn’t wake up. Just cooing quietly in his floating orb.

“I-,” He starts again in the dark, to talk to you again but he’s so hesitant to say it, you can hear him from inside the helmet stumbling again over his words. “I just want to w-watch. Here” 

You exhale so loudly and so hard because again, why? What does he get out of it?

“Were you just holding your breath?” He asks in the darkness.

Yes. You had been. Maker. 

“Maybe.” You retort quickly, the heat in your cheeks is back and now you’re embarrassed again. 

“What if I ask nicely ?” The garbles do nothing to hide the tone behind his voice. He’s aroused. Deeply aroused and Mando wants to watch you masturbate. 

An instinctual buck upwards of your hips slips his middle finger between your folds and instead of pushing away, he pushes back against you and you feel the rough skin of his hands against you and starts to slowly drag his hand up your middle. 

Oh, Maker, you feel him. This is not a feather touch. No, it's so much more. It’s like all of your senses have been heightened in the dark. You can feel everything. Every ridge and callous and the heat, oh Maker he’s so warm. Like he’s been held to flames until the exact moment he reached out to touch you. You feel like hes branding you with his finger it’s so fucking hot.

“S-so wet.” He sounds like he's in awe of what you’ve been hiding from him between your legs.

As the tip of his finger leaves you, your hand brushes his and his whole body is hot like his fingers had been, you feel as though you’ve been branded again but now, your head is spinning and he probably could have really branded you and you wouldn’t have cared. 

It’s too much, he’s been talking for too long and you know what he wants now, you don’t care why. You’re too tired, you’re too excited. You secretly have been wanting just this, well not this exactly but whatever this is leading to, you want him to give you that, so you do what he’s asking in hopes that he will satisfy you, do something other than just watch.

Mando rests one hand on your knee that’s closest to him and grips it so gently it's almost like it’s not even there at all. But regardless, your hands have found what he wants you to touch. 

“Yes.” He sighs softly. “Like that.” There is a sound of relief to his voice like he’s been anticipating this for so long and now it’s finally happening. Your two fingers start moving in slow, lazy circles. You dip your fingers down to your entrance and coat them in your slickness, moving them back up to your aching clit and tightening the motion, speeding up slightly. 

Mando’s fingers dig into you. Not hard but enough to know that he’s still there, he’s still watching. You wonder if he’s naked now, or if he still has his suit on?  He definitely doesn’t have his gloves on anymore but you wonder what else he could be doing in the dark. He’s just watching you touch yourself? Watching as your fingers start to move with meaning. It’s starting to feel good… so good. It’s good enough to make you close your eyes, little pants leaving your nose as the stimulation courses through you.

The hand on your knee is gone and you’re shuddering with the idea that he’s had his fun and now he’s most surely left you to have to finish what he started in the dark but no, his hand’s cupping your breast now. Squeezing it gently in his hand. Like it’s the most fragile and precious thing he’s ever seen. One finger moves across the curve of your flesh and drags so gently across your hardened peak.

“Oh Maker .” You pant, because you’re holding your breath again. It was such a small, gentle touch you’re barely sure it was there but then he grips you, is feeling how soft and fleshy your mound is and your fingers move faster because this is the most erotic thing you’ve ever done and it feels so good to have the burning hot heat of his hand on you and you’d wish he’d touch you more and then he does. It draws another gasp from your chest when he take your nipple between his fingers and gently starts to twist and pull and roll it between them.

“Don’t stop.” He says as your fingers start to slow at the new sensation he’s giving you. “Please.” He’s being so polite, and his voice sounds so breathless. It’s making you wetter than you’ve ever been, its practically gushing out of you. You can feel it dripping. 

Mando just holds you, his fingers still pulling and twisting your nub between his fingers. You slide two fingers into yourself now, and curl them upwards against your g-spot. You hold your breath again so as not to moan or groan or make any noise at all because it’s so quiet in the ship you’re sure it’ll wake up the child. It’s futile, you gasp softly and arch your back into his hand. It’s so good. You haven’t made yourself feel this way in so long and you can’t stop now. It’s so good, the little growing ball of warmth and pressure building slowly inside you.

“Oh M-maker.” You hear Mando whisper softly into the darkness. And then he’s still. Watching you plunge the two fingers back inside of you. “So b-beautiful.” He says it so exasperated.

The sounds of your excitement are audible within the ship's walls. Like it’s echoing. Your fingers are plunging in and out of you now, your eyes are closed and your heads thrown back as you're getting yourself so close. Close so that he can watch you come.

“May I?” 

You’re so confused because he’s just asked you to do it yourself and now he wants to? Reluctantly, with a small whine of protest, you move your hand and his other hand replaces yours. Two fingers push into you deeply. Gently. He holds them there for what feels like an hour. Not moving, just holding them inside you.

“S-so, so wet.” He’s breathless behind his helmet.

 You’re sure the sun is going to rise before you see bliss, and then it’ll be too late because the kid will have woken up. 

Then he withdrawals them.

“Go ahead.” He says.

“That’s it?” You’re disappointed. It’s evident in your voice.

“Keep going.” 

So you do. You replace your fingers and his hand starts to grope you again. Moving now between your two supple mounds. And then you hear him.

Over the wetness between your legs and your own ragged breathing, you hear the soft sound of skin slapping skin. He’s touching himself, he used your juices as lubricant to touch himself. To rub all over himself. Now the thought that Mando is kneeling on the ground over you in the dark, watching you about to bring yourself to orgasm, touching himself with your wetness just about does it. 

Your fingers speed and curl against your spot and you let your head fall back. You try so hard to keep your breathing steady, anything to keep yourself from crying out. Biting your bottom lip to try and stifle it, your fingers work faster. You can feel Mando’s body shaking and jolting with each thrust of his fist on himself in the hand he’s using to squeeze your breast. You pull your knees into your body, keeping them spread so he can watch, your head leans forward as you bring yourself closer. The pads of your fingers curling and uncurling against that place deep inside of you over and over again, the feeling of your palm pressed against your clit is too much. The sounds of his soft moaning send you over the edge though, his hand gripping your chest the way he is, like his life depended on it. Squeezing you with his strong, hot hand. You can hear the way he’s making himself feel good over you.

“I’m gon-” But the words are stolen from you as he pinches your nipple, the rest of his hand still groping you. He’s panting for lost breath in his search for pleasure. 

“P-please. D-do it, m-make it wetter.” He stutters and his breath is also ragged now, the sound of skin on skin is more frantic now and his groping at you is sloppy, like he’s can’t control his hands anymore.

It happens, the bliss and the lights behind your eyes. The warmth and pressure in your lower stomach explode and you need to use your free hand to cover your mouth again. Your hips buck up against your own hand as you coax the orgasm out of yourself. Maker, it’s so good. You haven’t had a release like this since before you got onto Mando’s ship.

Now  you hear him groan softly, he grips you tightly, like he had gripped your arm earlier. Your own heart is still racing, and you can barely catch your breath but you feel the warmth on your belly.

Did… did Mando just– Did he?

He’s still hovering over you. The ship is quiet now. Just the sounds of yours and his labored breathing. He’s still groping you, holding on like he’s going to float away into the void if he lets go. 

He definitely did. And he still is. He’s still letting go on your stomach, you can feel every time he empties a new rope onto your belly. 

You lay there, hands at your sides, panting. 

It’s tempting, to reach your hand up and swirl a finger to what he’s delivered to you and then taste him. You’ve never done that but something inside of you is screaming to do it. So, you take one of the two fingers that was just bringing you so much joy and you slide it through the puddle on your belly and bring it to your lips.

Mando gasps softly and grips you tighter. He’s still watching. 

He’s salty and musky and it’s different, but it’s good. It’s something you’d let him give you more of if he wanted. You’re still sucking him off your fingers when he pulls away.

Maker. Please, you don’t want him to leave-

Mando’s fingers are at your entrance and he’s running the first digit of two between your folds, he’s not even really inside you. Just tracing your opening. Teasing you. Then his fingers are gone. 

It’s so quiet again. He left you in the dark with his good time spent still all over your belly. Running both hands over your face, dragging them down your cheeks in exasperation. 

All these new thoughts are going through your head at warp speed and then you hear from so close to you, his modulated breathing. 

“Are you still here?!” Whispered exasperation.

It's been so quiet again for so long.

“It’s my ship. Where would I go?” 

“Oh my Mak-” You’re almost in tears because he’s right. Where would he go? His bed is just across the room. “What are you doing?” 

“Tasting you.” 

You’re now a puddle in front of him. His fingers are back at your entrance again, still, just tracing and coating themselves in your wetness. Then they’re gone again.

“You’re delicious.” 

Mando was still tasting you. Currently. Doing it as he spoke to you. You hear him let out the softest sigh of satisfaction as your flavor touches his tongue. 

“I like it.” It’s said like you should know it. Like you’ve accused him of taking too much from between your legs. 

“Okay.” Is all you can manage to say because you’re hoping he does it again, you keep your knees open in anticipation but he doesn’t. You don’t hear him breathing anymore either.

You lay there and slowly close your knees. Brush the hair that’s gotten in your face away and sigh. Wonder where the fuck Mando is in this Maker forsaken dark room. You hear him now, shuffling across the room and he’s getting closer to you. When had he left? 

Mando kneels down beside you again. Maybe this is round two? So you slowly open your legs for him but he stops you with his hand and then you feel the coolness and dampness of fabric on your belly. The Mandolorian is cleaning you off, wiping you tenderly, not missing anything. He reaches down and wipes between your legs. Very thoroughly. You wish he’d move the cloth and touch you again but his touch is gone again. 

You almost groan in disappointment but you stop yourself. You didn’t hear him leave.

“You really are so beautiful. Just like the pictures.” He garbles quietly.

“They’re doodles.” You explain into the void.

“Who was the man?” 

You stay silent. 

“It’s from my imagination.” You say quietly, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment again. 

“So a made up man in my beskar?” 

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Maker what do I say? 

“Okay.” You retort. He doesn’t say anything for a long time and you wonder if he’s still there in the darkness next to you. You don’t dare reach out for him in fear of being rejected again. He didn’t let you touch him earlier even though he got free reign. 

“I don’t look like that.” 

“Okay?” You whisper again, exasperatedly. 

“I’ll pose for you next time you want to doodle. ” And you hear it, the sarcasm in his voice. You honestly didn’t even know it was possible for him to do that or if he knew what it was. 

Then you hear him walking away. He’s gone, back to be a part of the void and watch you in the darkness behind his helmet. You put your nightgown back on and lay there on your thin mat on the floor behind the cockpit. Mando gets into bed, you hear him moving in the sheets. 

It’s still so dark and you wonder how much sleep you’ll be able to get before the child awakes and returns to his normal state of chaotic green cuteness.

If Mando ever asked you to do it again, you would. Not in so many words next time, but yes. You would. 

Your notebook. You wonder if he put it back in your bag but it’s too dark and quiet to check now. 

Hey, let's chat real quick.

So, this was the first Pedro character fic I ever wrote, and it was so heavily inspired by the legendary Rough Day (I'm saying it twice so no one can said I never said it)

It was supposed to be just a quick, hot, sexy little one-shot between you and The Mandalorian, but I ended up spiraling out of control and wrote over twenty chapters.

I have one chapter left until it's completely over and I thought I'd start posting it here so that once the final chapter is done-- I can post it to AO3 and Tumblr at the same time.

I'm pretty critical of my own stuff-- but this one particularly.

My disclaimers are- there will be spoilers to everything- season 1-3, the book of Boba Fett, and maybe even other things- I don't know because I didn't watch any of it.

All the crazy Mandalorian facts that come up in later chapters are just researched online. I misuse Mando'a and Manda'lor constantly so... punch me right in the face if you want... or yell at me in my asks.

Let me know if you like it with comments and reblogs and like and all that good shit. I love them.

[ot8xbangchansgirlsblog]

𝕃𝕦𝕟𝕒 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕟𝕖 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕨𝕠 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖

Warning: Angst/mention of death/Blood/MPreg/MxM

A/B/O dynamics:

Omega (Han, Felix, Y/n)

Beta (Hyunjin, Seungmin, I.N)

Alpha (Chan, Changbin, Leeknow)

The series might traumatize you. I really hope you guys like it and enjoy it.

Summary - Request; I've just been reading your A/B/O series and it's so so so good. I was wondering if you would accept an ot8 request where their omega gets in trouble with another pack and Straykids are really worried?

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The walk home was absolutely horrifying, to say the least. Lee Know had rushed back before the rest, needing to break the devastating news to everyone. Anxiety coiled in his stomach as he approached the house; he wasn’t sure how the omegas would react, and the uncertainty made him especially nervous.

When he arrived, everyone seemed to spring into action immediately. The atmosphere was thick with tension, and the sour scent in the air made Lee Know’s stomach churn. It didn’t sit right with him at all. He instinctively released calming pheromones, hoping to ease the collective anxiety that hung over them like a dark cloud.

Just then, an omega ran into his arms, seeking comfort in his embrace. Lee Know held them tightly, offering what solace he could while the betas began to prepare for whatever came next.

“Is she awake at least?” Felix sobbed, his voice breaking. Lee Know felt a pang of guilt wash over him. He didn’t want to stress Felix out even more, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie.

“Lee Know, how bad is it?” Han asked, his eyes narrowing in concern as he noticed Lee Know's silence.

“I don’t know. I really don’t, my loves. I just had to get the kids back to the village and made my way here straight,” he explained, pulling them both closer to him.

Inside, his alpha was growling—an instinctive response to Felix’s vulnerability, especially since he was pregnant and clearly upset. Lee Know’s protective instincts surged, and he tried to keep everyone grounded.

“For now, let’s get you washed up and ready for tonight, yeah? I don’t want you on your feet like this,” he said softly, stroking Felix’s back.

“Okay, can Han stay here? She might need an omega around… just in case?” Felix looked up at him with pleading eyes, and Lee Know felt his heart twist.

“Yeah, I’ll stay. Don’t worry, Lixie,” Han assured him quickly. Felix nodded, a small thank you escaping his lips as he and Lee Know made their way upstairs.

Meanwhile, I.N was finishing a potion at the counter. “I’ve got to get more rabbit blood, Hyunjin,” he called out, glancing at the clutter of ingredients around him.

“Go with Seungmin. I’ll stay and finish this up with Han,” Hyunjin replied, his mind racing with the numerous potions he was trying to memorize in hopes of being prepared when she came home. His head spun with the overwhelming amount of information.

“Are you sure, hyung?” I.N asked, concern etched on his face. He knew how draining it could be to handle potions alone.

“Yeah, I’ve got it. Now hurry. They’re almost home,” Hyunjin encouraged, trying to mask his own rising anxiety. The urgency in his voice spurred I.N into action, and as he hurried off, Hyunjin returned to his work, desperately hoping to find something that could help when their beloved mate finally returned.

When Y/N woke up, a blood-curdling scream tore from her throat. Her eyes shot open as panic surged through her; someone’s hands were gripping her body.

“Hey, shh, it’s me, baby,” Chan said, his voice trembling as he fought back tears. “You’re okay, you’re back with me.” He held her close, trying to ground her.

“My baby, my baby, I lost the baby!” she cried out, desperation lacing her words. She struggled against him, instinctively wrapping her arms protectively around her belly. “Let go of me!” she screeched, pushing him away with all her strength.

Chan felt utterly helpless. He didn’t know what to do, what to say—how to react to her panic. His heart raced as he watched her fight against the very comfort he was trying to provide.

“Y/N, please,” he pleaded, his voice breaking. In a moment of desperation, he tried to let his pheromones envelop her, a dangerous move knowing how it could affect omegas, but he felt like he had no choice. His instincts screamed at him to do something, anything, to bring her back to him.

“Please, it’s all done with,” he whispered, his heart aching as he held her tighter, hoping his presence could soothe her fears. “You’re safe, I promise. I’m right here.”

"Let go of me! You didn’t come, you didn’t come find me!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, fists pounding against Chan’s chest. The strikes didn’t hurt him physically, but the emotional pain was crushing.

“Let’s put her down, Chan,” Changbin begged, his eyes filled with concern. He knew there was no way Y/N would calm down with the alpha holding her like that.

“This is your fault! You promised!” she sobbed, her words cutting deeper with each utterance. Chan felt his heart shatter as the weight of her accusations settled on him.

It was his fault. She hated him now. She despised him.

“I’ll take care of her, Chan. I think it’s better to leave,” Hyunjin urged, stepping forward, his voice steady yet soft, as he tried to create space for Y/N.

Without another word, Chan released her and fled the room, Han and Changbin chasing after him, knowing he could spiral into reckless decisions.

“Leave, just leave me alone!” Y/N cried, curling in on herself, as if trying to shield her heart from the world.

“I can’t do that,” Hyunjin frowned, inching closer, desperate to reach her.

“You... you guys left me!” she sobbed harder, the pain evident in her eyes. Hyunjin felt a tightness in his chest, recognizing that she wasn’t allowing any of them to communicate through their bond.

“Let me take care of your wounds, love,” he pleaded, extending his hand toward her. She hesitated, looking up at him, and for a moment, he saw a flicker of trust before doubt clouded her gaze. “You’re weak and tired. Please, baby, let me in.”

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust them—she adored them—but her current state wouldn’t allow her to accept help, not after everything she had been through. Yet she also knew she was fragile and needed support.

“Fine,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. Hyunjin let out a sigh of relief and called Seungmin into the room for help. A beta’s job, as always.

“I’ll run her a bath. I.N is working on the potions,” Seungmin explained, casting a concerned glance at Y/N. It pained him to see her in such distress, and Hyunjin was the only one brave enough to confront the situation.

His hands trembled as he slowly reached for her, gently touching her pale skin. She sat in the corner, refusing to move an inch.

“I need to get rid of your clothes,” he whispered, his eyes searching for hers, but she was too vulnerable to hold his gaze.

“I can... I can do it by myself,” she murmured. “I’m disgusting right now.”

“Don’t you ever say that, please,” Hyunjin said, his heart aching at her words. He refused to let her think that way about herself. “You are my mate. I have vows to honor. You are the love of my life, and I will never see you as disgusting,” he whispered, caressing her cheeks gently. He longed to take away her pain, to destroy anyone who had harmed her, but first, he had to attend to her needs.

She looked away but nodded, giving him the permission he needed. He quickly removed the shredded fabric, horror flooding his eyes as he examined her wounds.

“Can I hold you, my love?” he asked, needing to scent her, to be close, but her gentle shake of the head shattered his heart.

Clearing his throat, he accepted the rejection, knowing it was too soon. “Can I at least help you to the bathroom?” he begged.

She nodded, agreeing, and soon they found themselves in the bathroom. As he helped her into the tub, small whimpers escaped her lips as the water stung against her wounds.

“I only put Armadillo Bile in the water; the rest will be for drinking,” Seungmin commented, standing by, trying to keep himself together as he leaned on the bathroom counter.

“Alright, thanks, babe. I know it’s hard for you to be here, so you can go help I.N,” Hyunjin said, feeling the tension radiating off Seungmin. The beta's scent was all wrong, and it upset Y/N further.

“I’ll just go check on Felix. I’ll be back in a bit,” Seungmin whispered, letting out a sigh before placing a quick kiss on Hyunjin’s cheek and leaving the room.

Y/N sat there in silence, tears rolling down her cheeks. The last few days replayed in her mind, a haunting cycle of pain and despair. The overwhelming feelings left her wanting solitude, yet she knew that if she didn’t accept Hyunjin’s help, she wouldn’t get any rest.

Once she was finally in bed, her wounds cleaned and treated, she wrapped herself in the blanket, turning her back on Hyunjin as a silent way of telling him to leave.

He understood her need for space but his beta wouldn’t allow it. He settled into a chair in the corner, resolute in his decision to stay. No matter how long it took, he would wait for her.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

"Hello, little one," Y/N smiled brightly at the little rabbit hopping toward her. She was picking strawberries just outside the territory line, a little thrill of adventure sparking within her. She knew she was safe— all the alphas were hunting just around the corner, well aware of her location.

Every moment spent gathering strawberries filled her with joy. The vibrant red fruits were a treat, and watching the animals frolic peacefully in their lush territory brought her a sense of calm. Everyone knew not to mess with the SKZ pack; they were one of the largest packs out there, and anyone who dared to cause trouble would end up in serious trouble.

"Excuse me?" a soft voice broke through her thoughts.

"Hm?" Y/N hummed, turning around to see a young boy standing a little way into the forest, looking shy and uncertain.

“U-um, excuse me, miss. Do you have any water by chance?” The boy asked politely, though his eyes were filled with something she couldn’t quite place.

Y/N furrowed her brows, concern washing over her. What was a young boy like him doing out here alone? “Oh? Yes, I do have a little with me. But what are you doing here all alone? Do your parents know you’re here?” she questioned as she reached into her basket for the water bottle.

“I... my parents were killed,” he said, looking away, shame and sadness mingling in his voice. “I’ve been trying to find a new home since.” He studied her with wide, curious eyes.

“Oh dear,” she frowned, her heart aching for him. “I’m so sorry to hear that. How old are you?” She took a step closer, realizing just how young he really was. She knew she couldn’t hurt him even if he tried.

“I’m 13… Are you an omega?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

Y/N hesitated for a moment before nodding. “I am—” Her scent, sweet and milky, wafted through the air, smelling like vanilla.

“Are you pregnant?” he asked, furrowing his brow in confusion as he tried to understand why she smelled so sweet.

“Yes, I am. Three months,” she smiled, gently rubbing her belly to show him.

“Well, that’s too bad,” he shrugged, an odd look crossing his face.

“What?” she asked, curiosity piqued. “Why is that too bad—” But before she could process his response, she felt something hard and firm strike her from behind, right on her head.

Pain shot through her skull, and her vision went black as she crumpled to the ground, the world around her fading into darkness.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Y/N? Y/N, wake up,” a soft voice urged, breaking through the haze of her nightmare. She gasped and scrambled away from the person shaking her, her heart racing. Her eyes landed on Hyunjin’s confused expression, and she realized he was wearing the same outfit from the night before. Had he not gone to his own room?

“Hey… you had a bad dream, angel. You scared me,” he whispered, concern etched across his features as he pulled her trembling body into his arms.

“Hyunjin, make it stop,” she begged, clinging to him tightly, her voice quivering. “Make the pain go away, bring my pup back. Please.” Her sobs wracked her body, each cry echoing the anguish she felt deep inside.

Hyunjin’s heart broke at her words. A few tears slipped from his eyes as he held her close, feeling her pain wash over him. Watching her suffer was unbearable. “I’m sorry, my love. I really wish I could change everything. I wish I could bring our pup back,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. At least she was letting him hold her, even if it had taken days for her to feel safe in his embrace again.

“Would you like me to get you anything?” he asked, desperate to help her in some way, wanting to alleviate even a fraction of her suffering. “Just name one thing.”

“Hold me,” she whispered, her voice fragile yet pleading.

“Always,” he replied, his tone filled with determination. He tightened his grip around her, letting her feel the warmth of his love and the safety of his presence.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

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[qcomicsy]

The Office but it's the Batfamily.

Bernard (To the camera): I think Bruce hates me.

---

Bruce (to the camera): I am very glad Tim, found himself dating someone. I don't think there's someone who would ever be enough to any of my children.

Bruce: But he is happy. So I am happy as well.

---

Bernard, invited over to dinner: That's. . . Um, A very nice mansion you have here sir. Really big. Big enough to hide an secret passage to clones but–

Tim, gesturing to him to shut the fuck up: HAHAHAHA ISN'T HE FUNNY?! (whispering) ᴮᵉʳⁿᵃʳᵈ ᴵ ˢʷᵉᵃʳ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒᵈ.

Bernard: WhichI'mnotimplyingyoudoanyway. But– IT'S NICE. Really nice. Thanks for uh inviting. . . Me.

Bruce, glaring: Hn.

---

Bruce (to the camera): Dick told me to make a "chit-chat". Be sure that our guest felt welcomed.

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Bruce (to Bernard): Did you gave it a thought about your internship yet? When I started medical school I had a great interest on how Gotham's Hospital deals with post mortem patients.

Bernard:

---

Bruce (to the camera): I tried to find a common ground to make conversation. We both had similar majors, even though I've drop out

Bruce: I'm glad it was enough for a good starter.

---

Bernard (to the camera horrified): He wants me dead.

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Dick (to the camera): HOW WOULD I KNOW HE WOULD PULL UP THE SERIAL KILLER TALK??–

---

Steph (to the camera): There's something really uncanny in seen it happen to another person.

Steph: And also really fucking funny too.

---

Kory (to the camera): The first time I got there I'm pretty sure was the time he made a contingency plan for me.

Kory: Which is cute. He thinking it would work but– Yeah.

---

Barbara (to the camera): Me and Dick? Oh he stopped talking to me for several weeks.

Barbara: When he did, he said "You are making a mistake".

Barbara:

Barbara: Don't you hate when he is right?

---

Kon (to the camera): I wasn't aloud to enter the house– I when I dated Cass, so–

Kon: Not that stopped me. But it still hurts.

---

Cass (to the camera), shrugging: I liked his piercings.

---

Bernard: . . . I didn't– Yet. No sir. I'm just, huh. . . Going with the flow?

Bruce: That's unfortunate. It's really important to always have a plan.

Bernard (gulps): You think?

Bruce: Yes. You never know what might happens next.

---

Damian (to the camera): It was the best dinner I've ever attended in this house.

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Tim (to the camera): *Loud sight* I don't know what I was expecting.

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Jason (to the camera): Are we really just going to pass on how his boyfriend looks like a knock off Scooby-doo member?

Jason: Like he is rocking a StarStruck haircut– And we just?– Okay.

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Dick (to the camera): I mean it's not like Bruce is doing on purpose right?

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Bruce, grinning to the camera: Hn.

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Duke (to the camera): Oh he's absolutely doing on purpose.