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chelseeebe · 1 year ago

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too sweet (for me)

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of violence and drugs. eddie is a dick but not when it comes to r <333 :} female!reader

eddie munson had been hardened by life. how could one night possibly demolish all of the walls he had spent so long building?

a/n: sorry for being mia again lol i am trying i swear!! i have another eddie fic coming that i love and probably the other parts to the steve zombie au! i��m usually never busy but these last few weeks have been wild

read part two here.

the club is too loud, too busy and too sweaty. eddie wasn’t a fan, never had been.

he squeezes past the crowd, grumbling to himself as he goes. eddie preferred to be in bed by three. his mom was very spiritual and had drilled into him that nothing good could come out of being awake at the witching hour.

something or someone knocks into him, or vice versa, he can’t really tell. it’s too dark and he’s had too much to even really care.

“watch it,” you snap, twisting around to send the dirtiest glare.

“what the fuck? you bumped into me,” he shouts over the loud thumping beat. immediately wishing he could swallow his words, noticing your eyes narrow, sizing him up. you’re the prettiest girl in this place, the only one he’s even looked at twice and now you hated him.

“whatever asshole,” you snarl, before continuing your way to the busy bar.

eddie hesitates for a moment before shoving through the path you’d made, angering another ten people on his way. he didn’t care, that couldn’t be your only impression of him.

he catches up, squeezing into the tiny space next to you, leaning against the sticky marble as you wait patiently.

his hand brushes your arm, earning another sly glance, face screwing up as you realise he’d tailed you to the bar.

“sorry,” he starts, not giving you the opportunity to tell him to fuck off first. “i wanted to apologise.. i was rude,” tongue resting on his bottom lip, appreciating the new found lighting and how it made you glow.

“you were,” smiling pointedly, eyes trailing down his chest, “but you can buy me a drink to make up for it.”

eddie stares, mouth agape at your brutal, up-front attitude before it turns to a tiny smirk, “i think that’s fair,” honestly he admired it. the only girl in here worth a second glance.

“vodka,” you add, making room for him to order.

he takes one last admiring look at you before turning to the bartender.

you tunnel your way back through the crowd, your friends long gone by now. eddie didn’t mind keeping you company, not one bit.

his fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging you gently back towards him. rightfully earning another scathing glare as you stop, inches in front of him.

“you’re not gonna even tell me your name?” he leans in, smirking as he does.

your lips brush against his ear, name soft as silk as you mutter into his hair. it sends shivers down his spine, wanting your lips on his ear and his neck.

“eddie,” he replies, resting his hand on the small of your back, keeping you close in the packed club.

“are you a dancer, eddie?” the way his name rolls off of your tongue makes him unfathomably crazy.

“not really,” he mumbles, tongue poking out of his lips.

“too bad,” your smirk, pulling towards the bustling dance floor before he can argue against it.

he didn’t like clubbing nor dancing but if you insist, he couldn’t say no.

the music ripples around him, hazy when all he can focus on is you and the way your hips twist in time to the beat. you’re not even trying and yet he’s completely encapsulated by your body.

there’s an attempt at dancing along with you, though he’s not any good. itching to just place his hands on your waist and let you guide him.

the purple light catches your eye as you move closer, eddie’s eyes latched onto you the entire time.

“you’re really not a dancer, are ya’?” you lean in to whisper.

“can’t help it, i’m distracted,” he purrs, daring to place his hand on the small of your back.

you purse your lips, keeping whatever snarky comment to yourself.

fuck it.

“d’you wanna get out of here?” eddie asks, “i know a place.”

your brow quirks, “hm? how do i know you won’t kidnap me?”

he tilts his head, meeting your eye, “you’ll just have to trust me,” offering his hand for you to take, eager to get you out of this club.

really, he’d go anywhere if it meant he could look at you properly without getting elbowed in the back by sweaty drunks.

you hesitate for a split second, which he supposes is fair, before placing your hand in his, permission to lead you from the dance floor and out into the chilly night.

your arms wrap around yourself, shivering in the cold.

eddie doesn’t hesitate, taking his jacket off and placing it around your shoulders. “it’s not far from here.. we can walk?”

your eyes narrow once more, pulling his jacket tighter, “lead the way, eddie.”

he knows you’re trying to taunt him, maybe rile him up a little and by god is it working. taking your hand once more as you start the walk to his apartment, anticipating coursing through his veins.

the elevator ride up to his floor is hell, fingers twitching to touch you. he’d do it too, if you were alone. plagued with one of his neighbours just trying to get home as you hang off of his arm.

eddie’s thankful his floor is first, losing the will to not just grab you right then and there.

your mouth falls open, eyes flitting around the apartment he definitely didn’t pay someone else to decorate for him.

“you live here?”

eddie didn’t grow up around money. he lived in a trailer for most of his life, cramped into the tiny home with his uncle in some dead end town until he finally found the nerve to move himself to chicago.

there were dreams of a music career that wilted away pretty quickly after he realised that there were a hundred and one other screwed up teens just like him, all wanting the same thing.

selling drugs wasn’t exactly his chosen path but he’d sold a little weed in high school and found he wasn’t awful at it and now here he was.

with more money than he knew what to do with and a reputation for being a hard ass.

he doesn’t entertain your amazement, sidling over to you with his hands already finding their place to your waist.

“the bedroom’s even better,” eddie smirks, feeling your fingers twist around his t-shirt.

“go ‘head,” half-smile on your pretty lips.

your body brushes against his as you trail behind, not wanting to waste another second. he hasn’t even kissed you yet, has no idea how addicting you’ll taste, the slight hint of vanilla in your smudged lipgloss.

expertly twisting you around, stumbling over just slightly before he catches you, planting his lips on yours, manoeuvring your entwined bodies around the darkened room.

he’s done this dance a hundred times, but something about you feels different. you’re mailable, trusting in his hands to guide you to the bed while your hands sit atop his shoulders.

falling back onto the mattress, tugging him down atop of your body, fingers clawing at his collar while his hands roam your body, grabbing at your hips and waist.

eddie haphazardly reaches for the lamp, disconnecting your lips for a brief moment before the orange hue fills the room.

you groan in response, sprawled out on the mattress underneath him.

“i wanna see you,” he remarks, taking your bottom lip between his teeth before he kisses you properly again. a full battle between teeth and tongues, barely catching against one another, lips wet with each other.

you sigh softly into his mouth when his hand travels beneath your dress, sliding between your aching thighs, panties already wet and begging to be torn off.

he doesn’t though, wanting to draw this out just a tiny bit longer, removing his fingers from your heat to toy with the hem of your dress.

“fuck,” you gasp, breaking away from his lips, “don’t be mean,” swollen bottom lip jutting out to make it all that much worse.

“okay,” eddie laughs quietly, “i’m done,” sticking to his word as your dress comes down in one rough tug, grunting as he does so.

he sits up on his knees, admiring the sight of your quivering body below. “worth it,” he remarks, tearing off his own t-shirt, and launching it across the room somewhere.

his jeans are next, shaking them off of his leg as they land on the floor with a soft thud.

your hand instinctively covers your chest, shying away from his hungry gaze.

“nuhuh,” eddie bites, pulling your arm away, pinning it underneath his as he comes back to your level, hovering just above. “don’t do that.”

you blink, pulling him closer with your free hand. the cat and mouse routine had been going on far too long, even for him. feeling your heat against his cock, almost painful to the touch as it strains his boxers.

“well if you hurried up..” you start, tilting your chin towards him with a tiny smirk.

eddie laughs loudly, yanking your panties down abruptly, “alright sweetheart, i hear ya,” returning his hand to between your thighs, spreading you open with his middle finger before sliding the digit in.

you huff in response, mouth falling open as that melodic tone he’s been waiting for falls from your lips, dancing around his ears.

your head falls back against the soft pillow, opening your legs further as he shifts fully in between, biting down onto his bottom lip.

“that better?” pumping his finger between your slick folds, your breath quivering with every move.

you nod quickly, readjusting your grip on his shoulder, taking a deep breath when his thumb finds your clit.

he can’t hold off any longer, pulling his fingers out and tugging his boxers down, cock springing up against his stomach.

“mhm,” he groans, teasing your sopping cunt with the tip of his already leaking cock, lapping up every last whine of appreciation you let slip.

eddie slides in, staggered breaths as he pauses, adjusting his position to allow his hand to find your hand, fingers intertwining while you huff into his ear.

“shit,” he utters, slowly thrusting his hips, gripping your hand tighter, pressing you into the mattress.

he wouldn’t have fucked around so much if he knew this is what you’d feel like.

your thighs squeeze around his waist, the soft skin encasing him. goading him on with your sweet breathless whines, repeating his name like gospel.

working his way to the hilt, debating why he could just sit there for a while with his cock buried deep inside of you or not.

your fingers twist around his curls, gently tugging on the messy mop atop of his head.

whimpering into the tiny shared space between your faces, your eyes fighting to stay open. cheeks warm and flushed, incoherent babbling trailing from your mouth.

“you.. you feel fuckin’ insane,” eddie growls, wishing he could swallow that familiar twist in his stomach, keep this going forever and ever.

the air is warm, filthy sounds of his skin against yours fill the room as you desperately move your hips against his. loosely connecting your lips in a hazy kiss, he can feel you tighten around him, whimpers strained and needy as you near your orgasm.

“ahh fuck,” eddie mewls, burying his head into the delicate skin of your neck, leaving lazy kisses in the crook. hoping he can hold out for just a minute more while you tremble around him. coming undone right beneath his body.

you hum into his ear, running your fingers along his scalp, pulling gently on his hair.

eddie can’t stop himself any longer, pulling his cock out of your cunt before he cums, letting his release cover your thigh instead.

your nails continue to trace through his hair while his mouths babbles a bunch of nonsensical bullshit into your neck, surely condemned by a life in hell for the blasphemous shit he was saying.

coaxing his head out of the comfort of your skin to gaze into his tired eyes, your heartbeats coinciding with one another.

instead of saying anything, you grin, laughing quietly to yourself. eddie thinks you’re crazy and yet, he’s sure he might’ve just fallen in love.

eddie feels like a creep, watching as you sleep, your leg twisted somewhere between his making him terrified to even think about moving.

he doesn’t want to startle you, in fact he doesn’t really want this to end. he knows that once you wake, he’ll be lucky to see you again.

maintaining relationships wasn’t exactly a skill he possessed.

you stir sometime later, feeling your way up his chest as you come around. maybe you’d think he was a freak, maybe you’d regret it and decide to file a restraining order or something.

“morning,” you croak, lips plump with sleep, eyes barely open as they peep at the other side of the bed.

“hi,” wanting to cringe at his complete lack of charm.

“you talk in your sleep,” you say pointedly, shadows of a smile on your lips.

“oh really? what was i saying?”

you shrug, “something about a fire,” scrunching your nose up. idyllic as you bask in the morning light, a real picture of beauty.

“a fire? that’s weird, i was dreaming about you,” undecided whether it were too much too soon.

you curl away from him, shying into the pillow when a bang at the door interrupts everything, damn near rattling his entire apartment.

you look to him again, confusion threading your brows together, “who’s that?” worry seeping through your tone.

“i don’t know,” well, he had a pretty good idea of who it probably was and he most definitely didn’t want to deal with that right now.

they bang again, eddie unfurling his arm from your waist, “i’ll be two minutes,” frowning to himself as he pulls his boxers on.

as expected, gareth and jeff stand outside, gormless as their eyes fall to his bare legs.

“woah,” gareth exclaims, eyes wide.

“what d’you two want?”

“you not gonna invite us in?” jeff presses, still marvelling at his legs.

“no.”

“why?” gareth peers into the apartment, “who’ve you got in there?”

“your mom,” eddie quips, “why are you here?”

the two idiots share a look, half-offended, half trying to figure out if eddie was telling the truth or not.

“well-“ they come closer, “we’ve got that shipment.. for the thing,” brows wiggling, “couple’a weeks and it’ll be in.”

this leads to eddie closing the door further round, in fear of you overhearing. he’s not sure how well received that’d be on your first morning together.

“shh,” he hisses, looking around the very empty corridor, “you couldn’t have told me this later?”

they shake their heads in unison, “murray said to let you know, no phones.. no paper trail.”

eddie searches both of their blank faces before nodding, “alright.. alright, you can go now.”

they oblige but not before jeff grabs his crotch, winking at eddie which makes him slightly uncomfortable and letting out an almost inaudible have fun before disappearing into the elevator.

the urge to knock their heads together had never been stronger, returning to his apartment to find you stood in the middle of his bedroom, staring at the pictures on his dresser.

“i used to be cute, right?” he knows exactly which one you’re looking at, startling at the sound of his voice.

you turn, still holding onto the frame, “is that your mom?”

“mhm,” he hums, taking the frame from your grasp, “she..” clearing his throat, “she died when i was younger,” tracing his thumb over the image of her crazy hair.

“oh,” you frown, looking at him with pitiful eyes, “i’m sorry.”

he shakes his head, hair falling out of the loose bun he’d thrown up, “don’t apologise,” placing the photo back in it’s rightful place, “she was sick,” turning to you with his half-moon eyes.

he wishes he hadn’t even said it, the look on your face was too woeful, especially after the large grin you’d had plastered on it just this morning.

eddie sniffs, jumping to action, “get dressed,” he practically orders, wanting nothing more than to change the subject, “we’re going out,” telling, rather than asking.

“where?”

he shrugs, opening the large closet which mostly consisted of plain black tees and his jeans.

“i don’t have any clothes.. or my toothbrush, give me an hour and-“

interrupted by a shirt flying over, just about catching it before it lands on the ground, “wear mine, there’s a spare toothbrush in the bathroom,” eddie nods, sliding into his own clothes.

you stare dumbfounded at the cotton, before glancing back at him, “uh.. i don’t- what if people think..”

he turns, smile already peaking through, “if people think what? that we fucked? oh no,” riddled with sarcasm.

“you’re not funny,” you pout though you shimmy into the t-shirt, “i didn’t mean that i just..” trailing off into silence.

eddie’s eyes widen, something about seeing you in his shirt invigorated something within.

“don’t look at me like that,” shying away though there was really no need. he’d seen it all already.

“i can’t help it,” he remarks, standing wide-eyed.

your eyes roll in return, turning away to slip into his sweats though that makes everything worse. eddie instantly jumps to grab you, squeezing your arms against your sides, eliciting a high pitched squeal from you.

“maybe breakfast can wait,” growling into your ear, tripping over your legs as he barrels towards the bed.

eddie sighs, eyeing the seemingly stagnant clock on the dash. he knows you get off at three, toying with the idea of telling you he’s coming to get you or just turning up outside your building.

he figures he’s close enough that he won’t bother, shifting into drive. you’d only seen each other yesterday but he couldn’t get enough.

girls came and went in his life, never sticking around long enough for him to really get to know them. it felt different this time, he was itching to be with you, this constant need to be near you, with you. it scared him deep down, turning his stomach at the thought of someone actually meaning something to him.

he watches the door like a hawk, positioned outside so that you can’t possibly miss him.

it’s five after three by the time you emerge from the grand door, closely followed by who he assumes are your co-workers. eyes narrowing at the sight of the spindly guy following behind.

eddie clocks the exact moment you spot him, ducking your head as you break away from the group and slide into the passenger seat.

“what’re you doing here?” you flush, though your smile is evident, creeping onto his own face.

“i can’t come pick you up from work?”

you shrug, still coy as your co-workers dawdle, staring into the car with eager eyes.

“why’re you so shy all of a sudden? not even gonna kiss me?” eddie teases, feeling the eyes of your colleagues hot on his face.

“shut up,” you scoff, rolling your eyes.

he takes this as a challenge, leaning over the centre console to press his forehead to yours, waiting for your approval before embarrassing you any further.

your lips lock onto his before he can think about it, deciding to turn the innocent kiss into what he can only describe as a sloppy, over exaggerated makeout session. something similar to his first attempts at kissing.

you pull back, groaning in disgust, averting your eyes from the nosy gaggle of colleagues that still stood gawping.

mission accomplished.

eddie grins before speeding away, not bothering to acknowledge them another time.

you want to be annoyed, eddie can tell. tutting in your seat as if you didn’t enjoy that just as much as he did.

“who was that? your boyfriend?” only half-joking.

there’s another sigh, “i wish,” as you mess around with the dials on the dash.

eddie would normally smack your hand away but for you, he couldn’t.

an absolute sucker for the way your fingers danced around the tortoise shell interior, making yourself comfortable in his car like you should.

“you’ve never been to brunch?” you fret, looking at him with pure amazement over the table.

“no,” eddie chuckles, taking a sip of his coffee, “why would i?”

“why wouldn’t you?” smiling wide.

there’s been a lot of firsts for eddie these past few weeks.

you’d dragged him for a walk around the park in front of his complex, perplexed that he’d never even bothered. he’d been into a florist for the first time, hand picking some overpriced bouquet just for you.

he shakes his head, shrugging. there wasn’t any time for brunch when you had to move kilos of cocaine for rich aristocrats.

“you don’t live,” you scoff, sipping on your 11am mimosa as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

it’s ridiculous how soft you make him feel. he’d do brunch in some gentrified neighbourhood every day if it meant you smiled at him like that.

everything about you is too sweet, your clothes, the perfume you doused yourself in, the lipstick stains you’d leave behind on shared cigarettes. even last week when you’d made him stop for some cat food for the tiny stray that hung around your garden. who does that?

“some of us have to work, sweetheart,” eddie teases, shuffling around on the far-too-fancy chair.

“i work,” you hit back, “only difference is that what i do, isn’t illegal,” whispering the last part of your sentence, smug as you take a drink.

he looks on in pure awe. the fact that you could speak to him like that and yet still end up his favourite person was a miracle in and of itself.

“d’you want me to pay for your fuckin’ brunch or not?”

“i can pay f’myself,” you huff.

“but i don’t want you to.”

your eyes glint, pursing your lips to the side, “i don’t want to either.”

eddie’s already trembling in the car, murray droning on about the importance of gloves next to him. this all seemed like a good idea a couple of weeks ago and now his stomach flipped with every turn.

that was before he had something to lose, before he met you.

maybe weeks of you loosening him up had ruined him. the soft life was a dream in comparison to this. the complete fear coursing through his veins was enough to make him never want to leave the serene calm of your arms ever again.

a couple of years ago he was just some kid selling weed to the losers that hung around the block and now he’s clutching a pistol, contemplating whether he’d survive if he just jumped out of the car.

murray wouldn’t let him. he’d find him, make him pay for being such a pussy.

eddie’s eyes fall shut, head lolling back against the seat, conjuring up images of you in his head. if he had to do it, he also had to make it out alive.

for you.

a ringing bellows through his head, fumbling with the keys as his fingers shake.

he couldn’t remember if you were at work tonight, hoping you wouldn’t have to see this. get pulled into his ridiculous life.

eddie stumbles through the door, making a beeline for the bathroom when your voice calls out from the kitchen.

“eds?”

choosing to ignore it, focussed on the churning in his stomach and the need to empty whatever was rumbling around in there.

it all comes out into the toilet, heaving and retching as you round the corner completely perplexed by whatever was going on.

he’s slumped on the cold floor, gasping for air when you speak, “eddie?” terror in your voice.

“what happened?”

eddie barely looks up, focused on not throwing up again. he can’t explain it, there’s no words to tell you what happened without incriminating himself.

your eyes fall to the red splatters on his shirt, the cuts that littered his knuckles and the purple hue that had started taking over his cheek.

any idiot could put two and two together.

he’s been cryptic about what he does for work, never saying too much but just enough for you to understand. he didn’t want to tell you, to have to drag you into all this. that wasn’t fair.

for a moment, he thinks you’re about to run out of the door and never look back. he wouldn’t blame you if you did.

instead, you take charge, stepping into the bathroom with your hands resting on your hips, “get up,” you order, tugging at his arm.

he doesn’t. still partially curled around the toilet bowl, confused about your attitude.

“i said get up,” barking again, holding onto his elbow with an iron clad grip.

eddie obliges this time around, shakily standing up. he feels like a child, waiting for you to tell him what to do, to make him feel normal again.

you pull him to the sink, running the warm water, scrubbing his hands with yours. the water runs a murky colour, red and brown alike.

“get under your nails,” you add, lathering the soap on his palms, laser focused on his hands rather than the sorry state that had overcome him.

he does as you ask, scrubbing under his nails. standing aloof when you turn the water off.

your hands find the hem of his shirt, pulling it up over his head, “off,” nodding towards his jeans.

it’s a little unsettling that you know exactly what to do, but eddie’s not complaining. grateful for your presence, for your forward thinking. who knows what he would’ve done if you weren’t here. he thinks he probably would’ve handed himself straight into the cops.

you hold a bag open for him, gesturing for his clothes to go in. “we’ll.. we can get rid of them tomorrow,” eventually meeting his eyes again.

he nods, allowing you to guide him through to his bedroom. pliable, completely at your mercy. if you told him that jumping off of bridge would help, he’d do it.

you dump the bag of evidence on the floor before pulling out a fresh shirt and sweatpants, flinging them on the bed.

“get dressed.. i’ll get you some water,” before flouncing out of the room.

eddie hated himself for dragging you into his life like this. it was always supposed to be something separate, something isolated from your relationship.

he’s barely dressed by the time you return, feeling like a pitiful mess. if the look on your face were anything to go by, he looked like it too.

“eddie,” you begin, that same sad tone you’d had when he told you about his mom, “i don’t..” stepping closer, “need to know what happened- i don’t really want to know either but.. you can’t let it fuck you up,” looking at him earnestly, which honestly hurts more.

he nods, “i know,” because he did. “i’m sorry for-,” he sighs, “for getting you involved, i never wanted you to see this.”

you respond by throwing your arms around his waist, squishing your cheek against his chest, “don’t.. don’t start with that.”

his chin finds the top of your head, nestling into your hair, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

it’s a nice type of silence, the air heavy with unspoken words but he thinks that’s okay.

you understand anyway.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson one shot

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wolfofansbach · 2 years ago

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BEING A LIST OF THE THIRTEEN GREATEST RIVERDALE LINES, ON THE OCCASION OF THAT SHOW'S TERMINATION

As our much loved/hated show comes to an end, I feel compelled to record, for posterity, the greatest thirteen pieces of dialogue to spring from the pens of RAS and his henchmen. It was, of course, originally a top ten list, but I simply could not exclude a few of these treasures. Without further ado:

13.

“I dropped out in the 4th grade, to sell drugs, to support my nana.”

“That means you haven't known the triumphs and defeats, the epic highs and lows of high school football.”

Spoken by: an inmate of Leopold and Loeb Juvenile Detention Center, and Archie Andrews.

In: 3 x 2

Yeah, okay, this one had to be on the list. It’s funny, I’ll admit. It’s a great example of the overwrought semi-sincere melodrama that helped make this show so special. It’s low on the list largely because The Normies got their hands on it, so every time I hear someone make a reference I get all “do not cite the deep magic to me, witch.”

12.

“No! No! What are we supposed to do now? I’m horny as heck!”

Spoken by: Archie Andrews

In: 7 x 16

Season 7 is undeniably dreadful, and yet there are diamonds in the rough. The occasion is the failure of a projector, just as Archie and Reggie prepare to watch a pornographic film. The utter desperation with which KJ Apa delivers this line is exquisite. One is made to feel they are witnessing a genuine tragedy.

11.

“Tonight, they’re making an exception and debuting a cover of the song my parents claim they were listening to the night Jason and I were conceived.”

Spoken by: Cheryl Blossom.

In: 1 x 1

Really a fantastic line. A wonderful encapsulation of the casual absurdity of Cheryl’s character, and a foretaste of the lunacy we would plumb in later episodes and seasons.

10.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m weird. I’m a weirdo. I don’t fit in and I don’t want to fit in. Have you ever seen me without this stupid hat on? That’s weird.”

Spoken by: Jughead Jones

In: 1 x 10

A genuine classic. “High school football” before “high school football.” One is never entirely sure just how sincere the line is meant to be, both on a meta-level and in-universe. A perfect illumination of Jughead’s pretentiousness. It is made all the better by the occasional cuts to Lili Reinhard’s agonized face.

“At the last dance, multiple students were murdered.”

Spoken by: Principal Holden Honey.

In: 4 x 2

Delivered as an explanation to Toni and Cheryl, as to why there would be no school dance this year. Principal Honey is in fact supremely rational in the cancellation of this dance. This being Riverdale, he is of course treated as an unreasonable tyrant.

“Bro, I know all the secrets of this universe.”

Spoken by: Archie Andrews (evil version)

In: 6 x 5

Spoken as evil Archie reveals his evil plan to keep the parallel universes apart. KJ Apa’s delivery once again makes this line. He is comically sinister. Strangely, he sells it.

“A Vughead kiss, right now, in the present might be precisely what it takes to save a future Bughead from imploding.”

Spoken by: Jughead Jones.

In: 2 x 14

One of those lines that both makes me laugh and makes me genuinely angry. This was a fairly early season, and this may have actually been the first line to get me asking, ‘did they genuinely write and deliver that?’ Extra points for use of the atrocious ‘Vughead’ portmanteau ship name rather than ‘Jeronica.’

“I’m the ultimate wild card. I am the daughter of The Black Hood. The nightmare from next door. I’m training with the FBI and I’m coming for you, you psycho bitch.”

Spoken by: Betty Cooper

In: 4 x 14

Just delicious. Another one of those lines that leaves you somewhat unsure whether or not the writers understood how genuinely hysterical it was. “The Nightmare from Next Door” sounds like an announcer hyping up a wrestler. Spoken with a raw sincerity by Lili Reinhart. Also points for the heavy homoeroticism between Betty and Donna.

“For I am Cheryl Blossom, Queen of the Bees.”

Spoken by: Cheryl Blossom.

In: 5 x 16.

This one really doesn’t require any elaboration.

“Elijah ascended…and I will, too.”

Spoken by: Edgar Evernever.

In: 4 x 5.

Admittedly, this one is only spectacular with context. But in context—the context being that Chad Michael Murray delivers this line while dressed like Evel Knievel and standing in a cartoon rocket right out of a Warner Bros cartoon—it becomes utterly magnificent.

“It’s not queer baiting, it’s saving the world.”

Spoken by: Veronica Lodge.

In: 6 x 22.

It’s actually hard for me to decide whether this one is funnier with or without context. Without context it’s wonderful, but it possibly becomes even funnier when you know that the context is that Veronica needs to kiss Cheryl to transfer superpowers into her body so she can turn into a Scarlet Witch knock-off and stop a magic comet summoned by Sephiroth an English wizard who is also the Devil.

“If there’s no wedding reception, it means the Gargoyle King has won.”

Spoken by: Kevin Keller.

In: 3 x 12.

One of my personal favorites. This is a perfect line because like #3, it requires no real elaboration. There is absolutely no context in which it isn’t hysterical.

1 .

“Word of my exploits serving Nick his comeuppance has seeped into the demimonde of mobsters and molls my father used to associate with, so the five families are sending their youngest and brightest, their ‘princes,’ as it were to, well, come court the rare Mafia Princess who can belly up to the bar with the big boys.

Spoken by: Veronica Lodge.

In: 2 x 20.

This is, in my opinion, the all-timer. Every word is perfect. The rapid-fire alliteration. The use of the word ��demimonde.’ The entirely unnecessary addition of ‘as it were.’ This is borderline Dr. Seuss. The fact that Camila Mendes delivered it without cracking a smile should have won her an Emmy. No. An Oscar. This line is Riverdale.

#riverdale #veronica lodge #jughead jones #betty cooper #archie andrews #kevin keller #cheryl blossom #edgar evernever

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reasonsforhope · 7 months ago

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"Thanks to a new discovery by researchers at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, painful injections and intravenous drugs could potentially be a thing of the past.

Inspired by the way squids (yes, squids!) use jets to propel themselves through the ocean, shooting ink clouds, researchers took this biological process to the lab.

The result is an ingestible capsule that “releases a burst of drugs directly into the wall of the stomach or other organs in the digestive tract,” developed by researchers from MIT and Novo Nordisk...

Traverso was the senior author of the study, which concludes that the capsule could offer an alternative to delivering drugs that normally have to be injected, like insulin, antibodies, and even mRNA.

The reason these drugs cannot be taken orally is because they consist of large proteins that are easily broken down in the digestive tract, rendering them ineffective.

For years, Traverso’s lab has been working on a solution, encapsulating these drugs in small devices that protect them through their journey in the body until they reach the lining of the digestive tract, where they can be injected directly into the system.

In previous iterations, he and his colleagues devised capsules that use microneedles to deliver the drugs once they enter the digestive system.

But in this new study (recently published in Nature), the researchers went completely needle-free.

Taking inspiration from cephalopods — or squids and octopuses — the researchers came up with two ways to mimic their siphon organ, which allows these animals to shoot jets of ink to distract predators...

And don’t fret — once the drugs are administered, the capsules (which are made of metal and plastic) simply pass through the digestive tract naturally.

Although researchers have only tested the device on animals so far, the trails have shown resounding success. In these tests, the capsule successfully delivered insulin, a drug similar to Ozempic, and a type of RNA that can be used in treating genetic disorders.

In this research, success was calculated by measuring the concentration of drugs in the animals’ bloodstream, which reached the same levels as drugs administered by injections. Plus, there was no tissue damage after the fact...

According to MIT, the researchers will now work to further develop the capsules, in hopes of testing them in humans.

Their ultimate vision is that the capsules could be used at home by patients who need to take insulin or other injected drugs frequently. The approach also eliminates the need to dispose of sharp needles, creating a safer — and more comfortable — experience for patients and providers alike."

-via GoodGoodGood, November 25, 2024

#I think the iv drugs thing is optimistic the whole reason you use an iv is for gradual release #but otherwise as a former enormous needlephobe I love this #medical news #technology #medical technology #biotechnology #squid #mit #biomimicry #insulin #mrna #needles #good news #hope

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belokhvostikova · 10 months ago

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𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

⤷ Comprised collection of work categorized by standalones or multi-part series. Majority of my work will contain explicit sexual content, so if stated: 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭. Any and all feedback, constructive criticism, and comments are welcome.

Do 𝐧𝐨𝐭 repost, 𝐝𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 — Updated as of August 31st, 2024

─── ౨ৎ 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

The Yearbook: Club Pictures | Completed

The Hawkins High 1986 Yearbook is set to encapsulate the '85-'86 school year, capturing all students and memorabilia from the momentous year—with an exception, though... Hellfire. And as a valued member of the Yearbook Committee, Eddie Munson had placed a target on your back to protect himself.

Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold | Ongoing | 18+

Winnie Ambrose had had enough of Eddie Munson. A cheat, dirty, no good, lying scumbag whose only worth was found in his eight inch cock. But enough was enough, and Eddie Munson was bound to pay his dues. Devising a plan of revenge, Winnie entrust you, her best friend, to hurt the man who hurt others. It was simple: make him fall in love, and crush his heart. Only, you hadn’t expected to fall deeper than intended… and neither did he.

─── ౨ৎ 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬

Sensual Brutality | 18+

Porn with no plot.

Dustin Fucking Henderson | 18+

In the simplest terms, Dustin Henderson has essentially become Eddie Munson's biggest cock block.

Sweet, Little Bunny | 18+

Perhaps the karma gods of the world were just as perverted as Hawkins’ residential Freak, Eddie Munson, himself, as the perfect opportunity to lay his hands on you arose when you go searching for helpless students to tutor.

You’re Gonna Break His Little Heart | 18+

What was supposed to be a summer vacation to your boyfriend's hometown, turned into God's greatest test of morality against you. In other words, you basically fuck your boyfriend's best friend, Eddie Munson.

The One Where Everybody Finds Out | 18+

Your secret fling with Eddie Munson hadn't gone entirely under wraps, particularly to the know-it-all, Dustin Henderson. With the help of Robin and Steve, the three conspire to reveal the truth, resulting in two of the most awkward people going on a date together...

The “Plug” | 18+

A night after Homecoming has you reveling in the loneliness of your mind, but a drug dealer "meandering" his way by is there to solve your issues, especially after finding a particular toy of yours.

Interrogations with the Unconscious

After five months of no reconciliation with the man whose lifestyle became too much for you to manage, you're met with your ex-boyfriend, the rockstar, after an accident leaves you in the hospital, and you face the realization that Eddie Munson is still your emergency contact.

The Boy is Mine (Sienna’s Version)

There comes a period where most relationships fall stale, yet Eddie never thought it'd happen to him and you, in fact, maybe even worse. With an intimate date planned in the comfort of your home, Eddie hopes to coax whatever thoughts are troubling your mind.

In the Room Where You Sleep | 18+

Halloween had stamped itself as Hawkins' favorite time of the year, where teenager party and murderers prow. And you come face-to-face with that, when a particular masked man takes a special interest in you.

─── ౨ৎ 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐬

Eddie’s Boyish Antics

Eddie’s Pregnancy Shenanigans

Eddie’s Very Metal Lesson

Eddie’s Pregnancy Rules

Eddie’s Smutty Allergies | 18+

Eddie’s Situationship 18+

Eddie’s Really Bad Joke | 18+

Eddie’s Reassurance | 18+

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson recs #eddie munson masterlist #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson series #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you

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silens-oro · 1 month ago

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Born to Be Down (Pre-Well Enough Alone Companion)

Not all fics have adult content, but this blog is 18+. Andrew "Pope" Cody x f!Reader (nicknamed Hawk)

Animal Kingdom Masterlist Masterlist Pope Cody Playlist GirlDad!Pope Baby AU Masterlist

General Synopsis: The events that led up to Hawk living under Smurf's roof. Word Count: 3.5k Content Warning: typical animal kingdom warnings, drug use, addiction, abusive parents. AN: 700 years later and I finally have another companion piece for you! We get a better look into Hawk's home life before and why she ultimately ended up under Smurf's care, and Smurf's manipulation of Hawk. This chapter was titled from Born For The Floor by Local H. I feel like it perfectly encapsulates Hawk's relationship with her mom and eventually her relationship with Smurf because she was terrified to rock the boat regardless of which home she was living at so she just continued to take what was thrown at her. please comment & reblog :)

1990

“Quiet down? You’re gonna tell me to quiet down in my own goddamn house?” Hawk’s mom, Deb, laughed indignantly as she slurred her words. It was nearing two o’clock on a Tuesday morning and Hawk’s eyes burned from a lack of sleep and irritability as a consequence of the music and talking that vibrated through the paper thin walls of the living room and into her bedroom. “Who the fuck do you think you are, you little bitch? Telling me what I’m doing in my own fucking house!” She looked over at the man (Daryl, David, Damien –it didn’t matter to Hawk. They were all the same.) whose lap she was hanging her legs over. All he did was laugh in response like this was genuinely funny to him.

Hawk tried not to let her mom’s tone get a reaction out of her —because that’s exactly why her mom acted this way, but it was hard. Her nails made small crescent shapes in her palms as she clenched her fists. She blinked fast, her eyes on the floor as she bit her lip as both adults laughed at her.

“I’m sorry, but I have school in a couple of hours and-” Hawk tried to explain, but was cut off.

“—Not like school’s gonna help you.” Deb scoffed, tilting the beer can she held back to her mouth. “Not with the way you run around with those boys and that tramp. One of ‘em’s bound to knock you up sooner or later. What’ll school do for you then? Huh?” Her mom clumsily pulled her legs off the man and faced Hawk, who was frowning deeply as she looked at the mess that was her mother. They looked so much alike, Hawk thought bitterly. It was almost like looking into the future of what she could be and if she had any power, she'd choose to do everything that wouldn't get her into the same shoes as her mom. Hawk was Deb’s spitting image from their hair color, to the shape of their nose and the color of their eyes, and Deb couldn’t give two shits about it -if anything, it made her dislike her daughter even more.

Deb picked the lit cigarette up -a Virginia Slim- from the overflowing ashtray on the coffee table, and held a finger up. “I’ve got an idea!” Deb took a puff, then exhaled it upwards as she sat back. “Why don’t you go crawl into one of their beds for the night and give me some fucking peace and quiet for a change?” Her mom looked over at the man again. “What do you think, Dan?” Ah, a new ‘D’ name to add to the list, Hawk noted mentally.

“I think it’s a great idea, baby.” He slurred as he rubbed Deb’s leg salaciously, his eyes only open to slits, but Hawk knew his pupils would’ve been pinpointed if she could see them from where she was. She’d seen it on her own mother countless times, not including the random men Deb had hanging around who tried to paw at her if she got close enough. The open baggie, spoon, lighter and dirty syringe on the coffee table next to her mom’s ashtray were another indication if Hawk ever second guessed herself -not that she needed to.

“Forget I said anything.” Hawk muttered and turned to go back to her bedroom, but Deb stopped her before she made it two steps out of the living room.

“No, no, no! You want some quiet? You want some sleep? Go get it outside. I mean it, you little shit.” Deb demanded, pointing at the front door to the small apartment with the cherry of the cigarette getting dangerously close to where she held it between her index and middle finger. Hawk should’ve just kept her mouth shut, she knew that, but she hadn’t had a good night's sleep in days, add on the grumbling of her empty stomach, and all of it was really getting to her. “You want to tell me how to live under my roof, you have another thing coming.”

“I’m sorry-” Hawk tried to defuse the situation, but her mom was already too far gone.

“Out! And think about why you’re out there tonight before you mouth off to me again.” Hawk let her tears fall then as she nodded and turned to grab her skateboard, a sweatshirt and her backpack from her room before storming past the two junkies who were groping each other on the sofa.

Hawk kept her hood up as she rode around town. From past experience she knew she had a better chance at not being bothered if people couldn’t see that she was visibly a girl, so she just rode and rode wherever her wheels took her until she got to the Strand. She slowed to a stop when she reached Post 8 and kicked her board up so she could carry it to the lifeguard post. Hawk climbed up the ramp and sat at the bottom of the railing, letting her legs dangle as she listened to the ocean. She held onto the railing, her forehead resting on the post, and let herself get comfortable for the night. It wasn’t the first time Deb kicked her out, and it wouldn’t be the last. Usually, if it was still early enough, Hawk would climb the fence to Smurf’s and ask to crash for the night, but it was nearing three in the morning as far as she could tell and she didn’t want to bother the only people who gave a damn about her.

“Quit pounding on my goddamn door!” Deb shouted from inside the second floor apartment. Julia hit her fist against it a few more times for good measure before Deb swung the door open.

“If you’re looking for my ungrateful daughter, she’s not here.” Deb said with a cigarette hanging from her lips as she leaned against the doorframe.

“She’s not at school either.” Julia pressed. “She never skips.” Deb shrugged, flicking the ash on the floor.

“My little valedictorian slept out last night. Figured she’d be with you little shitstains.” Deb blew cigarette smoke directly into Julia’s face. The girl clenched her jaw and her fists as she held herself back from popping the woman straight in the mouth —god knows Deb deserved it with the way she treated Hawk.

“If something happened to her, I swear to god I’m lighting this fucking apartment on fire with you strapped to that goddamn sofa, Deb.” Julia spat. Andrew glared at the older woman from his place behind Julia with his arms crossed. Baz stood behind Andrew, shuffling from foot to foot as he listened to Julia scream at Hawk’s mom. Even with all the teasing he gave Hawk, Baz felt for her. The only difference between their situations was that Hawk’s mom never left visible marks on her —none that he knew about anyway.

“Sure you will, pipsqueak. Now get the fuck away from my door.” Deb slammed the door in Julia’s face and she immediately pounded a fist on it.

“You’re a real Mother of the Year, Deb, you cunt!” She shouted out as Andrew pulled her behind him, but not without kicking the door one final time.

“Come on.” Andrew pushed her towards the stairs that led to the parking lot below them. The trio continued to skateboard around town as they looked for their friend, coming up short everywhere they looked.

Hawk guessed it was around noon when she ultimately made it to Smurf’s. She threw her backpack and skateboard over the fence and hopped over it like she had done a million times before. Smurf’s car was gone and the place was silent as she picked up her skateboard and let herself into the back yard.

She chose a lounger that had an umbrella next to it to lay on and tossed her stuff on the ground beside her before laying face first on the cushions to finally get some sleep.

Hawk’s eyes cracked open when she felt someone pushing her hair back. Smurf was sitting beside her, rubbing her hand up and down Hawk’s arm to rouse her from her nap.

“Hey, baby.” Smurf greeted her. “Why aren’t you at school?”

“Mom kicked me out last night. I didn’t have time to grab clean clothes before I left so I skipped.” Hawk sighed as she slowly sat up, yawning as she stretched.

“And where did you go?” Smurf fished.

“I just skated around the Strand. Hung out at the pier for a while,” Hawk shrugged, picking at a loose string on her well loved Depeche Mode t-shirt. “Then I went to Stand 8 until the sun came up.”

“Why didn’t you come straight here last night?” Smurf leveled Hawk with a look, taking her hand to hold.

“It was almost three in the morning, Smurf.” Hawk shrugged again, not able to meet Smurf’s eyes.

“I don’t care what time it is, a young girl like you wandering the streets at night, even in a place as safe as Oceanside, is incredibly dangerous.”

“I didn’t want to wake anyone up. I was fine on my own for a few hours.” Hawk reasoned.

“You are never on your own, not while you have us. I’ve known you since you were six, baby. You’re family and family is always welcome, no matter what time of day or night, do you understand me?” Hawk nodded reluctantly. “The next time this happens, you come straight here. I mean it.” She nodded again, shrinking into herself at being reprimanded as a learned defense. “Come here,” Smurf pulled Hawk into a hug.

“I bet you’re hungry. How does some lunch sound?” Hawk hadn’t eaten since she had lunch at school the day before. Her mom rarely had anything at the apartment and hunger was something she learned to live with, so she took food when she could get it and Smurf always wanted to feed the kids that came through the house. “While you’re eating I’ll get the guest room tidied up, I’ll grab you a spare change of clothes so you can take a shower and I can wash the ones you’re wearing, and then you can get some real sleep.”

“Thank you, Smurf.” Hawk said softly, relief shining in her eyes as she finally met Smurf’s.

“No thanks necessary, my sweet girl.”

Hawk was given a t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts that she had seen Andy wearing before and Smurf took her clothes to throw into the washer outside. She used Julia’s shower and then got settled into the guest room.

“You’re welcome to anything in the house, baby. You don’t need to ask, alright?” Hawk nodded and sat down on the guest bed. Her exhausted body immediately sagged against the mattress and she let herself fall against the pillows without pulling the comforter back.

She was out before her head even hit the pillow.

“You have a good nap, baby?” Hawk could’ve slept twelve more hours in that bed and it wouldn’t have been enough. Still, she nodded because it was the best uninterrupted nap she had in a long time. “Good. You’ll be staying here tonight and I’ll be having a talk with your mother tomorrow, alright?” Smurf placed her pile of folded clothes on the nightstand.

“You don’t have to do that.” Hawk sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed.

“No, I really do, baby. Some people just need a good, firm talking to so they can get their act together.” Deb would need more than that, Hawk thought to herself. Smurf came to sit on the edge of the bed next to Hawk and placed a comforting hand on her leg. A brief silence settled between Hawk and Smurf before Hawk spoke. Her bottom lip wobbled and her voice broke before she even got the first word out fully.

“I always think about what I’ve done to have a mom like her, ya know? What have I done in this life or a past life that I deserved everything she’s done to me? Did she always hate me? Did she ever love me?” Hawk shook her head as she brought her hands up to cover her face. She bent forward to rest her elbows on her tights. “Why couldn’t you have been my mom, Smurf?” Hawk whispered as she cried against Smurf when she pulled Hawk against her. The older woman held the back of Hawk’s head to her chest, her other hand soothing the young girl’s back as she shushed her, rocking them both from side to side as they sat on the edge of the guest bed.

“Deb may be a piece of work, but she’s still your mother, baby, and some mothers don’t understand how good they have it when they’ve got a kid like you. I love my boys, I really do, but I wish they were half as smart as you. Julia too. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders in spite of what you’ve been through.”

“She doesn’t even try to hide how much she wishes I wasn’t around. Every time she looks at me I see how much she hates me, Smurf.” Hawk sobbed. “All I ever wanted was for my mom to love me because I love her, but it doesn’t matter how much I love her or what I do to make her happy. Nothing is ever enough.” Smurf pulled Hawk back so she could look at her. One of Smurf’s hands came up to wipe the tears from Hawk’s face.

“You’re loyal, baby. I can’t fault you for that because you should always be loyal to your family even when you feel like you shouldn’t be because that’s what family is. Through the good and the bad, you always put them first.” Hawk listened to Smurf as she continued to rock her.

“I need you to listen to me closely. You are enough. Here, in this house, you are enough. You will always have a place here, do you understand me? I may not be the mother who gave birth to you, but I can give you a mother’s love anytime you need it. Unconditionally, I am here for you, my girl.” Hawk nodded, letting herself fall back into Smurf’s chest so she could wrap her arms around her. If only Hawk knew then that she was submitting herself to the snake of all snakes, playing right into her hand, she would’ve walked straight out of the front door and back home where she belonged.

Maybe she would’ve had more time with her mom.

Maybe her mom wouldn’t have died the way she did.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Hindsight is always 20/20, though.

Smurf’s eyes caught Andrew’s as he stood silently in the doorway, watching the interaction between Hawk and his mother. She saw a flash of jealousy bolt through him, but it was gone just as quick as it came. Smurf, playing it up in front of her eldest son, kissed the top of Hawk’s head. Andrew’s eyes lingered on Hawk as he took in what she was wearing. He swallowed visibly when his eyes fell back to Smurf’s. She gave him a hard look and a tiny tilt of her head that told him to leave. He looked back at Hawk for a few seconds longer, then silently retreated down the hall to his room.

“Why don’t you help me make some dinner. Julia’s been wanting to see you since she got home and she’s already waiting for you in the kitchen. How does that sound?” Hawk nodded, sniffling as she pulled away from Smurf so she could wipe at her eyes. “You stay here as long as you need to, alright? I’ll handle your mother and we’ll go get some of your things after school.”

“It’s done?” Smurf spoke into the phone, the receiver wedged between her cheek and shoulder as she painted her toenails. She looked up from her spot on the sofa in the den and watched the kids horse around outside in the pool as the night dwindled on. She saw Hawk’s smile and grinned when the girl screamed as she got pushed in by Julia.

“It’s done.” The voice confirmed.

“Good.” Smurf finished her final coat and twisted the bottle closed, placing it on the coffee table as she blew on the setting polish. “I’ll pay you a visit tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

One Week Later

“Good riddance.” Andrew mumbled as Deb’s casket was lowered into the ground. Julia elbowed him in the ribs, giving her twin the stink eye, but Hawk heard him all the same and it made her face pinch. She lingered for a moment, tears building, before she excused herself.

“Asshole.” Hawk murmured to him as she walked by Andrew to get away from the small group that showed up for her mother’s burial. Andrew called out Hawk’s name just loud enough for her to hear. He kept his voice low, but his eyes held fire in them.

“For as long as we’ve known you, she’s treated you like trash. Like you didn’t matter.” Andy said as she retreated. Hawk stopped and turned to look over her shoulder at him. Her eyes were bloodshot and she looked absolutely miserable and exhausted. It made Andrew angry that Hawk still gave a piece of herself to her worthless mother even after she was gone. Deb didn’t deserve Hawk, not in the least bit. “She didn’t deserve your tears when she was alive and she sure as hell doesn’t deserve them now.”

“She was my mom, Andy.” Hawk swallowed thickly. “And regardless of what she’s done, I’m still gonna miss her. I don’t expect you to understand that.” She turned back and continued walking with her head down, hugging herself.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Julia asked, her lips pulled back in a grimace as she shoved Andrew lightly.

“It’s the truth.” Andrew looked down at Julia with furrowed brows, anger flashing through his eyes. “We’re supposed to be sad that Deb’s gone? The same Deb who used to hit her? Pull her hair? Talk down to her? The Deb who put her cigarette out on her back because she fell asleep on the couch after school once last year? I’m supposed to feel sorry for her?”

“No, dickhead, but a little empathy for our friend is a good start though. We all know Deb was a nightmare, her own daughter most of all, but you know how she is. She loves with her whole heart even when she knows nothing is going to be given back in the hopes that someday it might be.” Julia explained.

“I get it.” Baz whispered, still looking at the casket as it lowered.

“Enough, you two.” Smurf spat through clenched teeth as she tried to keep a hold of a bouncing Deran at her feet. “Stand still.” Deran stopped moving at the look Smurf gave him. Julia glared at Andrew, then at her mother, before running after Hawk.

Hawk was sitting on the curb in front of Smurf’s car with her arms wrapped around her knees. Julia slowly approached her. Andrew and Baz moved closer to the pair, but gave them enough space to talk.

“Don't listen to him.” Julia said as she sat next to Hawk, her hand coming up to rub Hawk’s back.

“Andy’s right though.” Hawk picked at the skin around her nails.

“Stop that.” Julia tapped Hawk’s hands to separate them. “He still shouldn’t have said it to you, at her funeral of all places. I swear all of my brothers are idiots. Doesn’t look like there’s much hope for Deran either.” Julia tried to lighten the load that weighed her friend down, but she couldn’t get even a twitch of a smile out of her.

“I should be happy she’s gone, but I’m not. I hate that I’m a little bit relieved, but I’m mostly terrified about what’s going to happen now. I don’t have any family left, Julia. I have no one to go to.” Hawk cried, looking out over the rest of the cemetery. “I’m going to get thrown into the system and I’ll never see any of you again. One last “fuck you” from Deb on her way out, I guess.”

Andrew’s eyes never left Hawk from the second Julia sat down. His stomach clenched when he saw Hawk break down against Julia, who looked back at him with worry filling her face.

“That’s not true. You have us. Smurf will pull a rabbit out of her hat –she always does.” There was a piece of Julia that didn’t want Hawk in that house with them, not because she didn’t love her, but because she did. From the outside, from Hawk’s perspective, Smurf was a doting mother who loved her kids. She let them run wild and do whatever they wanted. They had the big house, and the pool, and everything they could want at their fingertips. Smurf took Baz in when he needed her and she always kept her home open to Hawk as well, but Julia was well versed with the game Smurf was playing. She was a piece on the chessboard after all, just as Baz became and just as Hawk was just about to become.

Underneath her worry, there was an even smaller piece of Julia that thought if Hawk was in the house, maybe things wouldn’t be so bad coming from Smurf. Julia felt tears come to her eyes at the uncertainty of what was to come for the both of them.

“Can you promise me something?” Hawk asked, glancing over at Julia.

“Anything.”

“I know you guys like to do dumb things, try stuff…but promise me you’ll never do what she did. Please promise me.” Hawk begged Julia, her eyes pleading.

“I promise.” Julia wrapped her arm around Hawk’s shoulder, pulling her into her side.

please comment & reblog :)

#pope cody #pope cody imagine #animal kingdom #animal kingdom imagine #animal kingdom fic #animal kingdom tnt #andrew pope cody #Andrew Pope Cody imagine #shawn hatosy #well enough alone universe #well enough alone #well enough alone companion

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jaylaxies · 2 years ago

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ROMAN HOLIDAY

PAIRING: jake x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, slight fluff, protected and unprotected sex, (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), cunnilingus, marking, creampie, mentions of petnames (princess, baby, darling, daddy), lots of kissing and brief mentions of smoking, stealing, running away from cops, drugs, somnophilia (consensual), etc.

WC: 10k words

SYNOPSIS: visiting your grandma’s place was more or less your entire plan for your summer vacations and only break you get before your university starts, although, meeting your neighbour, bickering with him and clutching his hand while running away from cops wasn’t in your bucket list.

PLAYLIST: welcome to wonderland by anson seabra, movement by hozier, if you let me by alina baraz, how to love by jen z, roman holiday by halsey.

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, my sweetest angels <3 i'm finally here with a jake fic which was long due! i hope you guys like it <33 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated :D loveyou all <3

Bagging a window seat for a day-long journey sure is a blessing, peculiarly when you have to stay sitting at your spot in a train for a sum of six hours. Nestled in your seat, you sit straighter when the scenic view of the sea water meeting the sky graces your eyes—which you capture on your phone’s camera with a soft smile.

It felt as if it had been ages since you got out of your room, where you used to be cooped up during the entirety of your day, studying for your final year of school.

Your parents were concerned. They were highly proud of you for achieving top honours, yes, but it was about time you went out and cherished your life a little before you got winded up in the stress of University yet again, which was to start in one month.

And what’s a better place to spend your vacations at if not at your granny’s home?

It was a few minutes past six when you finally reached your desired destination, dragging your luggage behind you as a swish of cold breeze hit you. It looked straight out of a movie with how the train station was lit up by old-fashioned lamps which radiated warmth just by glancing towards them.

You hugged your cardigan tighter, walking out to find the taxi stand just outside the exit area of the station, pulling out your phone to show the driver the address you’d be meaning to go to. He was a kind man, helping you put your luggage into the trunk of his taxi. Your curious eyes looked out, observing how much the town had changed over the years.

You were seven when you last visited her hometown. Ever since then, your grandma used to be the one who visited you in the city, at your place, however she did not wish to leave her town and move in with your family. You could see why she chose to stay here—the serene view, the freshness in the air, the tranquil surroundings, it made the corner of your lips curl up into a smile.

It only got wider once the driver stopped his taxi in front of your grandma’s house. It was exactly how you had remembered it to be—a small but two story house with a big veranda which was lit up by fairy lights on the big bushes. The back door connected the path towards the small pool and then yet another door linked the beach from your backyard.

Your grandma stood by the door with the fondest smile gracing her ever so beautiful face, a few grey strands fell on her face and you couldn’t help but get out of the taxi and run towards her, capturing her in an embrace. A hearty chuckle filled the air, the scent of your favourite cookies encapsulated you, making you wonder if she had baked a batch just for you as you snuggled further, her hand patting your head exactly the way she used to do ever since you were a kid.

“I missed you, grandma.” Your expression said it all, and she looked more than happy to usher you in the house, saying how chilly the night was and you made sure to pay the driver, thanking him for his service as you dragged the luggage in.

A wave of nostalgia hit you as your eyes wandered off to observe each corner, but your grandma didn’t hear any of it, making sure her granddaughter was well fed and rested after the long journey.

She spent a good while telling you embarrassing stories of your father during dinner, which you listened to with delight, sharing your own stories with zeal before you climbed up the stairs, opening the door to the room you used to use each time you stayed over as a child.

It didn’t change, the bed was still too big for you, the windows were spotless as if it had been cleaned frequently and the scent of old books paired with a tinge of vanilla filled your senses. Your body felt calm and you couldn’t remember the last time you had felt this way.

Calling your parents, you updated them by telling you had reached safely as you walked in the balcony, feeling comfortable in a sweatshirt and cotton shorts. The night sky resembled a velvet blanket full of glistening stars.

However, a figure clad in all black captured your attention. It was a bit beyond one in the morning, which is why it was unsettling to see someone walk in such dim lights. The stranger made his way towards your neighbouring house, making you wonder if he lived there.

Shrugging, you sighed. Sitting at one place for hours does tire your body, so you proceed to finally get into your cozy bed, setting an alarm before your grandma comes in to check if you require anything.

“Sweet dreams my little peanut,” your grandma smiled, closing the door behind you as you replied back with a gentle voice.

“Sweet dreams, Gigi!” It was a nickname you used for her, she found it lovely.

The placid atmosphere and the distant sound of waves acted as a catalyst to your sleep, and you slept soundly, not knowing that the calmness was just a start to your inevitable venture—something no one could have prepared you for.

You found yourself walking alongside your Gigi to visit the lady next door in the afternoon. She was a kind soul—as stated by your grandma, not to mention that she treated her like her own family, making sure to provide help whenever she could and that’s the reason why you were going to meet her.

It wasn’t the first time; apparently you used to play in their veranda a lot as a child, which again, you didn’t remember. However, when the lady—Mrs. Sim, opened the door, the memories came rushing back to you. She was jolly, almost as if she was waiting for your arrival and soon, you were engulfed into a sweet hug.

She called out your name in sheer excitement, leaning back to take a good look at your face, which sported a silly smile due to embarrassment.

“Aw, love. You’ve grown into such a pretty young lady,” she gushed, ushering you both inside and into the living room area.

“And you don’t look a day over twenty, Mrs. Sim,” you replied, not lying considering how youthful she appeared to be.

Her smile only widened at your comment, “now, another word and I’ll be floating in the clouds,” she said, making you chuckle as you got engaged in a conversation, sipping on the cranberry juice which Mrs. Sim had so kindly offered you.

It was decided that you’d be having lunch together, and you tried your best to help the two women in the kitchen but you were soon shoved out, saying you don’t have to do a thing and rest—that’s the purpose of your vacations.

Which made you sit down and use your phone, scrolling through random apps and replying to all the texts.

“Y/n!” Soon, you were called into the kitchen, and you poked your head in with a smile.

“Yes, Gigi?”

“Oh, peanut, can you please go upstairs and call Jake for lunch? It’s almost done.” She asked.

You tilted your head in confusion, mind wandering back to the guy you had seen last night and you came to the conclusion that Jake might be Mrs. Sim’s son.

You nodded, heading up the wooden staircase. Would you have to introduce yourself to him? Would it get awkward? You had no clue.

Knocking on the door twice, you took a step back and patiently waited for the door to open and so, you tried again to no avail. You wondered if he had his headphones on, which left you with no choice but to open the door, peeking in slightly only to find the room empty.

“Oh,” you let out, closing the door behind you for the sake of privacy.

“He’s not in his room,” you informed Mrs. Sim.

She sighed, serving a good portion of food for all of you, “I could have sworn he didn’t go out,” she shook her head as you three sat down. You let the elders start eating first and only then you picked up your chopsticks to do the same.

“I haven’t seen him in a while, what’s the tough guy up to?” Your Gigi asked.

“He’s busy enrolling himself into universities,” Mrs. Sim says, a sad smile taking over her face, “he says he doesn’t want to leave me and is aiming for nearby universities.”

“My my, isn’t he a darling boy?” Your grandma praised while you chewed on your food, which melted right in your mouth, silently eating while hearing them converse.

It didn’t take long for your grandma to ask them to come over for dinner the very next day, “it’s only fair that I cook for you too,” she argued when Mrs. Sim told her that she shouldn’t bother.

This time, your grandma let you help with the cooking, and of course, you were sent to invite the Sims over for dinner. You hugged your white cardigan close to your body—the nights tend to get chilly. Walking over to the neighbouring home, you rang the bell and were greeted with the sight of Mrs. Sim, who actually dressed up for the little dinner party.

“Oh, darling. Can you please call Jake down for dinner too?” She asked you as she was busy tidying up her own kitchen.

“Of course,” you smiled.

It was the second time you were heading up the stairs. This time, you were sure you’d be meeting the said boy. You found yourself standing right in front of his room yet again, gulping down your nervousness. It wasn’t as if you weren’t used to introducing yourself to new people, school made sure you knew how to do that, however, your nerves were acting up.

With a deep breath, you knocked on the door, twice—just like the last time. The difference, however, was that the door was opened in this instance.

The scent of an intoxicating blend of masculinity and sophistication announced his presence, undertones of musk and wood laced up, providing him a complex aura altogether.

A tall guy with parted black hair leaned against the doorframe, eyebrow perfectly raised in question, his arms folded as his honey brown eyes with the slightest speckles of gold stared your way, his plump lips soon curling up into what seemed to be an assortment of a smile and a smirk.

“You must be Y/n,” he stated, standing up straight, which caused his muscles to flex enough to the point it was visible in his white button up.

You licked your lips unknowingly, moistening them up before you nodded, extending your hand for him to shake, “pleasure meeting you, Jake.”

His eyes travelled down from your face to your hand, a low chuckle left his mouth, him opening the door and stepping out, coming closer to you as he grabbed your smaller hand in his bigger, warmer ones in a firm handshake.

“I can see why my mom can’t stop talking about you,” he said, making you tilt your head in question, eyes never leaving his face which was captivating.

“And why is that so?” You asked, stepping back slightly as he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

“Because you seem to be a good girl,” he breathed, making you go still as he leaned back with the same smirk, leaving you behind, walking down the stairs.

Now, you didn’t expect the situation to turn out this way, yet you knew that talking to him further would only cause your head to hurt.

What even made him think about you being a good girl?

Is it your outfit? Plain, loose jeans paired with a pink top and cardigan. It’s basic enough not to be categorized so easily.

You scoff to yourself, already hating the situation as you walk downstairs, only to find Jake with a smile that genuinely looked sweet while he talked to his mother, helping her lock the door.

“I see you met Jaeyun,” she smiled, and you nodded, sitting alongside her, not sparing a glance at the said boy as you didn’t even know his real name was Jaeyun.

The table was set for four, which made you sit right across from Jake, who’s demeanour had changed as he complimented your granny, who laughed at his sweetness.

“Here, have some more,” he says, serving another portion to your grandma, who cooed at his kind conduct at the table.

He made sure to be on his best behaviour, only in front of others but when his gaze fell towards you, a bored expression overtook his features, which no one paid attention to.

You rolled your eyes. It hadn’t even been a whole day since you met and yet the boy made you dread his presence. He wasn’t being straight up rude per se, however his actions weren’t subtle either just like how he completely ignored your existence during the entirety of the dinner.

He offered to clean up, which included him having to clean up your plate as well, which was something he did with a frown on his face as Mrs. Sim endorsed that he should help with the household work.

Both ladies were in awe of how well mannered Jake was, and it left you irritated to no end before Mrs. Sim called out your name softly.

“Jake’s been acting distant lately,” she told you in a soft voice, making sure the said boy doesn’t hear you both, “and comes home late from his part time work, doesn’t share a lot these days too,” she sighs before looking at you softly, “you’re such a lovely girl, Y/n. I’m sure Jaeyun would love to have you as a friend he can rely on. Will you please look after him?” She asked, eyes sincere with worry for her son.

Now, you were provided with two choices—one to say yes and agree, but you’d have to be in Jake’s proximity for that. The second one would be a plain no, which would sound disrespectful and insolent.

So you put on your most convincing smile, which turned into an unadulterated one when you saw her being concerned about her son, “of course, I’ll do that, Mrs. Sim.”

“Oh please! Call me auntie,” she swatted her hand at your formal usage of name and you laughed, agreeing.

Since the dinner was summed up now and the dishes were done, courtesy of Jaeyun; you were asked to walk them back home, which wasn’t even a two minute walk, however you couldn’t say no to your grandma and hence, you agreed.

Mrs. Sim—or your auntie Sim, thanked you for the dinner, and proposed to at least have one meal of the day together each day, which you thought was a lovely idea given that you had grown to like the lady.

You were just about to leave when she went inside but a firm grip on your wrist stopped you right away, making you look up at Jake in question.

“You don’t have to bother being my friend, you’ll only be a hindrance in my way,” he says smoothly.

Your expression turns sour, almost as if you were bored, “why? So you can keep your fake good boy persona up and going?” You said, mimicking his tone.

Not expecting such a reply, he let out a surprised scoff, mixed with the slightest chuckle, “so what? It doesn’t concern you. Or are you offended that I’m not actually good, like you,” he whispered, leaning close, which made you realize how tall he actually was, “you know nothing about me, princess.”

The nickname rolled off his tongue seamlessly, sending a shiver down your spine while you kept a straight face, trying not to seem affected at all.

“Neither do you know about me, Sim. So stop making assumptions and just because I’m nice doesn’t mean I’ll take your bullshit.” You rolled your eyes, saying it all in one go before turning around to leave.

“You should be scared of me,” he chuckles behind you.

“In your dreams,” you retorted, not sparing him another glance as your heart palpitated.

You had never talked to anyone in such a manner before, it gave a sense of newfound confidence—which you needed.

Jake simply watched you walk back to your place, shaking his head once you disappeared from his eyesight and still, a humorous smile never left his face.

You had updated your parents about your three days here and later called your friend to do the same, who was also busy with her own vacation bucket list, yet it was a refreshing talk given that you currently did not have much to do to entertain yourself.

Which left you to grab your swimwear and go for a swim—utilizing the pool in your backyard.

Gigi loved to sit by the pool and made sure that it was cleaned every now and then. She had gotten it cleaned right in the morning today, which also gives you an opportunity to use it.

The sunset casted a warm glow on the calm waves of the pool, the slight breeze in the air making it serene as you immerse yourself in the water, it closing you right in, feeling like a warm hug.

You started slowly with effortless strokes, enjoying the feeling of lukewarm water on your body. You stopped after a while, resting as you let your body float with your eyes closed.

“Enjoying ourselves, are we now?” A voice broke your state of tranquillity, your eyes opening in a swift and the water sloshed with how fast you turned around.

Of course, it was none other than Jake sim who sat on the pool lounge chair, arms behind his back as if he was sitting to enjoy the view.

“The fuck are you doing here?” You breathed out in question.

He looked at you, feigning disappointment as he leaned to look down at you, “oh, princess. Didn’t they teach you not to use such filthy words?”

His condescending tone only riled you up, “didn’t they teach you not to show up at someone’s place unannounced?” You mocked, getting out of the pool and trying to find your towel, only for you to realize he was sitting right on it.

“I’m simply here to get cumin from your grandma, we ran out of it, you see,” he explained, not sounding sincere as he let his eyes wander all over your wet body, barely covered with your bikini.

Your eyes, however, focused on the cigarette he took out from his pocket, making you gasp as you made your way towards him in an attempt to snatch it off his fingers.

Nevertheless, Jake was quicker to get up, grabbing your hand which was extended and pinning it up against the wall, his body pressed up against yours, successfully making your body go still with shock.

Yeah, you didn’t really adore your body’s fight or flight response.

“Fuck—” your eyes widened, yet he wasn’t the one to give you even a second to complain.

“Shh, princess. I don’t want a single bad word coming out of your mouth now, is that understood?” He asked, using his condenscending tone again.

You could feel every ounce of confidence which you had yesterday leaving your body as you stared into his honey eyes, an unconscious slight nod betraying you.

That satisfied him, although he didn’t bother changing his position, nor did he mind your wet body as he took out a lighter from his free hand, lighting up the flame, keeping it close to the cigarette which was pressed in between his lips.

Your eyes were transfixed on his face, observing how swiftly he closed the lighter, stuffing it in his pocket right before he looked away, blowing smoke into the air, giving you the greatest opportunity to stare at his consummate side profile.

He took the joint back in his fingers, returning his attention your way, “ever smoked before?” He asked, tone seemingly raspier.

Not trusting your voice, you simply shook your head as to provide him an answer.

He snickered, “of course you haven’t. It goes against your good girl rulebook, doesn’t it?”

“Shut up!” Your sudden outburst of anger only humoured him, even more so when you tried to snatch the cigarette from him using your free hand to prove him wrong.

He didn’t let it happen.

Instead, you found yourself looking right into his eyes with his slender fingers holding your chin in place. His breath was cool with a lingering smell of mint—which was probably due to the flavour of cigarette.

“Want it that bad now?” He raised his brows, “open your mouth,” he ordered, not giving you a second to comply, his thumb parting your lips as he desired.

He took a drag, inhaling the smoke deeply as you gulped, you could hear your heartbeat, or maybe that was simply how aware you were of your surroundings—your proximity with Jake.

Tilting his head, he leaned in again, mouth parted just the right amount. He let the smoke out and into your mouth in an agonizingly slow fashion, his lips on the verge of touching yours.

Your subconscious took over once you inhaled the smoke and it hit your throat. The burning sensation caused you to push him off as you coughed out in distress.

“Guess you can’t handle it, princess,” he clicked his tongue in disappointment.

You glared his way, composing yourself enough to actually snatch the cigarette from his fingers and take a deep puff, ignoring the way it burned your throat. It was your turn to surprise him by pulling him closer, grabbing his collar.

Your eyes were closed when you leaned in, blowing the smoke right into his mouth, causing him to take it all in, him never once closing his eyes. He stared at you with such intensity that you could feel it, despite your eyes being closed.

Once you were done, you breathed deeply, throwing the cigarette on the ground, “don’t get ahead of yourself, Sim,” that’s all you said before walking back into your home, rushing up the stairs and into your room just to avoid running into him again.

Only when you were in the safety of your room, you let out a frustrated scream right into your pillow.

Three days in your vacation and this boy had already driven you insane to the point you had smoked right into his mouth.

You took a warm shower before taking a nap—something you required to calm your heart before you saw him at dinner, again.

In contrast to yesterday, when he didn’t provide you with an ounce of attention, his behaviour had done a solid one eighty as now, he provided you with his utmost attention, passing you subtle smirks during the entirety of the dinner.

You were more than glad when auntie Sim distracted you by indulging in random conversations, and you can easily say you enjoyed the information she was providing you with at the given moment.

“And, and!” Auntie Sim said full of excitement, “Our Jaeyunie was four and you were three when it happened. He was so curious about you playing on the beach building sandcastles alone, he wanted to talk to you and so he collected flowers from our garden and gave them to you,” she cooed.

You looked at the boy, surprised with the information of him being a sweet baby. Now, he was the one who tried to stop his mother from spilling the stories any further, averting his gaze but you didn’t let it go.

“Aw! That’s so cute Jaeyunie. Where are my flowers now?” You asked, voice annoyingly high to bother him.

Your grandma laughed as auntie Sim only urged Jake to get some for you. He looked your way, annoyed and you only passed him a sweet smile.

You couldn’t deny, being a menace did feel good at times and the dinner wasn’t so bad after all.

Yet, the events of the evening didn’t let you sleep, causing you to walk on the balcony yet again and you couldn’t miss the figure clad in all black leaving your neighbour’s home yet again, at two after midnight nonetheless.

It wasn’t something you should be indulging in yet you couldn’t help but wonder.

What exactly was Jake up to?

In these ten days of vacation, you had done quite a few things which included learning a few recipes with your grandma, bickering with your neighbour, minus the proximity as you made your mission to stay away for the sake of your poor heart. Majorly, you had grown to adore the beautiful beach which was right behind your home.

Seeing how you had nothing to do in the given moment, you found yourself sitting on the warmth of the sand yet again, close enough for your feet to touch the water which was cold, juxtaposing the temperature of your body.

You didn’t know how long you sat there dazed, watching the never ending blue waves stretching as far as possible, till you gasped and got taken back into reality once a hand on your shoulder shook you in annoyance.

It was none other than Jake, who stood there with his jaw clenched, a bouquet of flowers resting in his right hand, causing you to raise your brows at him.

“Mom forced me to do this, okay?” He huffed, handing you over the multicoloured bundle of happiness.

It didn’t matter that it was Jake who gave you the flowers, it still made you happy, a smile growing on your face as the scent infiltrated your senses.

This certainly wasn’t the kind of reaction Jake was expecting from you. He was sure you’d throw a snarky remark or maybe simply not take the flowers from him, but even you couldn’t deny the beauty of nature.

“Thank you,” you whispered under your breath, surprising him even more.

It was one of the days you felt calm, not wanting to channelize your energy into something as useless as picking up a fight, however, Jake won’t leave without that happening.

“That’s it? You just need flowers to shut up?” He tantalizes you to answer back.

You only give him a sour look in return, wondering what he’s even doing on the beach wearing shoes, clad in leather jacket as if he was going for the cliché illegal races you see in movies.

“You should go, Jaeyunie,” you nodded with a fake smile.

Your phone started ringing just then, and Jake caught the display name right before you picked up the call.

It was Lee Heeseung—the guy who was your study partner in school and also the guy who was your competition when it came to academics.

The call wasn’t long, he had simply contacted you to inform you about the university he got into as you also filled him up with the university you got accepted into.

You assumed that Jake would have gone back, which wasn’t the case as he stood behind you, eavesdropping shamelessly. His expression turned into one of realization when he saw you actually smiling and talking sweetly to whoever was the guy who had called you, a scoff leaving his mouth on its own accord.

“Yeah! Yeah, of course. Will text you later, goodbye!” You smiled, concluding the conversation only to find Jake still standing at the same spot, making you look at him in question.

“Didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” he said, seeming bored.

A sigh left your mouth, Jake was great at making assumptions, “why do you care?” You asked.

“I don’t,” he replied, not missing a beat, “I should go, I have work to do,” he said, walking back to his place.

Your lips worked before you could process anything, “yeah? Like you do every night?” You asked.

He stilled, turning back in a second and crouching down to your level, grabbing your nape, pulling you close to him, “don’t get involved in my matters, Y/n. I’m saying this for your own fucking good,” he seethed out, causing you to gulp, your heartbeat rising up due to the proximity again.

“What are you up to, Jakey?” You asked teasingly, trying to diffuse the tension.

“Nothing that concerns you, princess. I’m being serious, okay?” He held eye contact, repeating the last word again, and you nodded.

“Okay,” you mumbled as you felt him caressing your nape gently before he got up, leaving you there wordlessly.

You didn’t realize how hard you were clutching the flowers while watching his walking figure. The sudden mood switch made you curious, and despite him warning you, it was something you wanted to see for yourself.

Was he in trouble? Was he caught up in illegal activities? Or was he simply out partying somewhere?

Another sigh left your lips.

You shouldn’t get involved in his matters.

You got yourself involved in his matters.

Sneaking out of your home was easy and you made sure to grab your jacket as the night got chillier than usual. All this to follow Jake.

It was easy since he didn’t use any cars, walking towards his desired destination. It almost felt comical how you tried to tiptoe for a total of fifteen minutes, hiding in random alleyways whenever you made even the slightest noise of stepping on a pebble.

For a second you even regretted coming out and spending so much energy on this, till you saw Jake actually stop and get inside an alleyway, which you approached exactly two minutes after he went in.

Peeking in, you noticed how wide the way actually was, people clad in black and hoodies which hid their faces were present all over, more than thirty people you’d estimate.

You squint your eyes to get a better focus of what they were up to, only for them to widen in realization when you found them exchanging packets and smoking what looked like drugs. Jake was also engaged in a conversation with a guy, purchasing drugs from him, which caused you to gasp slowly.

“Looking for something, kid?” A deep, hoarse voice spoke near your ear, causing you to flinch and move away, turning around to see a guy full of tattoos smiling down at you, which disgusted you.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, looking towards your right to see Jake looking your way, eyes full of shock and worry as he whispered your name under his breath, not believing that you’d actually follow him there despite him saying a firm no to you.

Maybe he was right, maybe you shouldn’t have come here.

“Uhm, I—I lost my way back home. I’ll get going now, I didn’t see anything I promise! You guys please continue,” you said, trying to sprint but the guy was quick to hold your jacket, making you stop as Jake rushed your way, leaving whatever he was up to.

Before anyone could take up any action, the sound of police sirens alerted everyone in the vicinity, which was more than enough for all the guys to scramble as you stood there with panic, trying to move your body seeing how the guys were climbing up the wall full of graffiti on the other side as it was the only way to their escapade.

“Run,” Jake breathed out, grabbing your smaller hand in his without any notice and running towards the same way, his jaw was clenched.

You followed wordlessly, mouth open with how deeply you were breathing, chest heaving up and down while you ran and reached the wall.

The sirens got closer as if someone had tipped the cops to search this particular area and you were worried if you both would get caught up in this mess.

“Jump,” he commanded and you stared at the wall, shaking your head.

“I—I can’t,” you stuttered, watching how the others claimed it

He pulled you closer, picking you up with ease as to provide you with some kind of elevation, which definitely helped when you grabbed on to the top brick, pushing your body up and jumping to the other side, stumbling slighting as you fell down.

Jake was swift, landing by your side before he grabbed your hand again, pulling you up with him to run again. Your legs hurt yet you didn’t stop till he pulled you by his side, getting a bobby pin out of his pocket to unlock the door, which he opened in a go and pulled you inside, locking the door.

Silence.

Your breathing is all you could hear, but Jake’s eyes were louder than anything else, which scared you even further.

“I specifically told you to stay out of it, what’s so hard to understand here?” He more or less shouted, pushing you against the wall.

You gulped, not looking at his face but he wasn’t having it, he grabbed your chin and forced you to look his way.

“What if they did something to you? What if the police caught you? What if something had happened to you?” His voice got smaller after each sentence, more breathy and desperate, making your heart break when he genuinely made it seem like he cared about you.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, which probably wasn’t helpful at the given second, “I thought that you were in trouble and,” you whispered, not having more to say.

He sighed, resting his forehead on yours as his eyes closed to get some rest. You couldn’t move, your whole body felt more alive than ever, maybe it was the adrenaline rush, or simply Jake being so close to you.

He stepped back after a few seconds, “go change,” he said, and that’s when you looked around to find yourself in a boutique full of clothes.

“W—why?” You asked.

“Because the cop saw us, he knows what we’re wearing,” he answered, trying to find clothes his size.

Maybe he saw you when you were climbing up, meaning that you barely escaped him.

“But surveillance cameras? Technically, won’t this be considered stealing?” You bit your lip.

“There are none,” he replied, “and we have more pressing matters than to sit and worry about stealing.”

You nodded even though he wasn’t looking your way, trying to find some outfit, or rather, you were stealing it given the circumstances.

“So, why were you out there?”

“I should be asking you that, Y/n,” he said when you went into the changing room.

“You had drugs with you!” Your voice boomed from the stall and he simply took off his shirt in the store.

“So what?” He uttered, pissed.

“Did you smoke drugs that day too? Did you give me drugs?” You screeched while asking and he opened the curtains, seeing you soothing the top down.

“I don’t fucking do drugs,” he groaned, “I buy it and sell it to the guys next town at a higher price,” he explained.

The dim light from the changing stall only enhanced Jake’s shirtless body, his abs full on display alongside his torso, which was well built. Your eyes settled on the tattoo he had on his left side of the rib.

Taking a step further, your fingers gently traced the intricate design, making him shiver without you knowing, his fingers clasping around your wrist to keep it away again.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He whispered.

“I—” you started speaking, looking at him with wide eyes which shone of innocence and worry, lips jutted in the slightest pout and hair slightly messy.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he breathes out, not letting you complete your sentence, coming closer to your face, “why do you have to do everything I tell you not to do?” He asked, however his tone wasn’t filled with anger.

It was something you quite couldn’t pinpoint yourself.

He sighed, “let’s get you home.”

“Are we gonna walk back? Isn’t it too dangerous?” You asked as he turned around to put on a shirt averting your eyes from his back which flexed with his movements, your body felt warm and throat parched, especially when he turned around with a smirk.

“We’re driving back home.”

You soon found yourself on a lookout at the garage entrance of what Jake called an illegal garage which was used for repairing old racing cars. The place wasn’t authorized, which is why stealing from here would work perfectly.

“How do you even know this?” You asked, exasperated as your nerves got the best of you.

It certainly didn’t help that the place was dark, and Jake wasn’t replying as he was hot wiring the car without a number plate

You had no idea where he learned that from.

“You need to learn things if you want to survive in this world, darling,” he said, focusing on his work, not once thinking how you’d shiver with his use of nicknames.

He’s glad it’s not some new high tech car, which he won’t be able to hot wire as they contain ignition immobilizers, which makes it impossible for it to happen—you nodded as he explained all of this, your focus elsewhere.

“Let’s go,” he said after a few minutes, seemingly done with his work.

You rushed to get into the car, a scream leaving your mouth as he started driving almost instantly, his fingers gripping the steering wheels hard enough for his veins to pop out as you struggled to put on the seatbelt.

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” you let out in half a scream.

“Why? Not having fun now, princess?” He chuckled as he changed the gear, resting his hand on your thighs right after which caused you to squirm around in your seat.

Your body was extra attentive when he was around, and you weren’t sure how to control your heart anymore, so you closed your eyes.

“What’s so fun about this?” You asked, clutching the seatbelt.

“You,” he confessed, messing up with your brain even further.

“I hate you,” you mumbled, looking elsewhere.

You didn’t trust his driving despite it seeming effortless, he was over speeding after all.

“Now, we both know that’s not true, princess,” he stated and you huffed, knowing that he was right ignoring the fact that he was insufferable.

His pace ensured you to reach home in record time, your legs felt wobbly the second you stepped on the road.

“Stay here, I’ll be back in a second,” he rushed, leaving you standing alone as he parked the car outside a random garage two minutes away from your place.

It was hard to believe how you got chased by police, stole clothes and a fully functional car all in one night.

You saw him jogging back to you after a few minutes, standing right in front of you, “I think I should get back now,” you started to stay, however he stopped you.

“You can’t do that, your gate’s got a surveillance camera so we need to go from the back side,” he stated, his hand automatically reaching for yours as you started to make way towards the back side, on the sand.

All of a sudden, you felt smaller, heat creeping up your neck due to the body contact and you let him guide you wordlessly before you realized something.

“Wait, how will you go back? Your place doesn’t have a back door,” you asked and he shrugged.

“I’ll just jump to the other side of the garden wall, princess. You don’t need to worry about me,” he teased and you pushed him away, the warmth of his hand leaving yours.

Tiptoeing into your home, you shut the back door as silently as possible before you rushed up the stairs and almost into your room, only to find Jake coming up with you.

“What are you doing?” You whisper asked, eyes wide.

“I’m curious about your room,” he answered with that usual smirk of his and you wanted nothing more than to slap it off his face.

“You—” you tried to say, but stopped the second you heard another voice.

“Oh, Peanut? You’re awake?” Your grandma’s voice called out from the balcony, and your mouth hung open as you shoved Jake into your room in an effort to hide him.

“Y—yes, Gigi! I woke up to get some water,” you lied, wincing slightly as she acknowledged it and wished you a good night in her soft tone.

You rushed in and locked the door, only to find Jake getting cozy in your bed.

It was one of those days when your grandma missed your grandpa, and she spent hours on the balcony, looking at the glistening stars to find solace. You felt sad but the more pressing matter here was—how to get Jake out of your room?

He can’t leave from the back door, he can’t go out from the front door as Gigi would see him, your room windows weren’t the opening type which left you with no option but for him to spend the night right here, with you.

“Now what?” You asked, hand on your forehead while you paced around the room.

“What? We sleep together, of course.” He had a cheeky smile on his face.

“Are you crazy?” You almost screamed, but you didn’t wanna alert your grandma, which made you repeat it in a hushed tone.

“Why? Too scared to sleep with me? You’re the reason we’re in this situation, princess,” he smirked.

You sighed. He was right about that part but you weren’t willing to sleep with him, so you proceeded to ignore him as you went into the bathroom to change into your comfortable clothes for the night.

Jake simply patted the bed when you came out, silently asking you to sit next to him, and suddenly you realized that you’re locked up in a room with him, which didn’t help your nerves as you sat down with him.

Somehow everything was rebellious against your rules when it concerned Sim Jaeyun.

“Can’t you sleep on the floor?” You almost whined.

He cocked his brow, “is that what I get after helping you escape?”

“That’s not it—”

“So? Is it the boyfriend?”

“I don’t have any—”

“The guy you were talking to in the morning.”

“He’s a friend—”

“Then there’s no problem, right?” he rasped.

You didn’t realize your lip was bitten till his thumb brushed against your bottom lip, tugging on it gently to free it, caressing it while looking into your eyes.

“Right?” He repeated.

“Yeah,” you breathed, nodding ever so slightly.

“Atta girl,” he chuckled, flustering you as you tried to look away, which wasn’t something Jake allowed, his fingers gripping your chin now, “god, you look so fucking innocent.”

“I’m not!” You argued.

“Yeah? Have you been kissed before, princess?” He asks, amused.

His deep voice sends a shiver down your spine, to the point you almost whimpered out loud, but you were glad you didn’t, “no. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t fucked anyone before.” You confessed, eyes on his plump lips.

“Oh? Who’s the loser who fucked you without even kissing your prettiest lips?” He asked, frustrated that someone even dared to touch you, even though his words said otherwise.

You gulped, “we were drunk,” you whispered, remembering your graduation party and how the guy had failed to please you.

“Did he make you feel good?” Jake asked, expression serious.

“What?” You were surprised by his question.

He wasted no time in pulling you to his lap, your gasp only made him smirk wider, his hands resting on your waist, squeezing it lightly.

“Did he satisfy you, princess?” His voice was an octave deeper, giving you goosebumps.

“H—he didn’t,” you stutter, which pissed him further, his jaw tensed.

“So you’re telling me that some asshole was deep inside you and didn’t even bother making you feel good?” He scoffed.

“Jake—”

“Y’know what I would have done instead?” He asked, caressing your cheek, his thumb resting on your lips right after, “I’d kiss your lips till you get obsessed with mine.” his hooded eyes lured you in.

His fingers travelled down to your neck, rubbing circles just above your clavicle, “I’d kiss you till my lips memorize every inch of your body, till your mind goes blank,” he whispers, biting your earlobe.

You breathe in deeply, a whimper leaving your mouth, Jake’s name rolling off your tongue in a whisper right after, making him groan in response.

“I’d ruin you, princess,” he breathes, eyes meeting yours.

“Please.” You struggled to breathe, his pointy nose brushing against yours, lips threatening to kiss.

“Say it,” he urged you, pulling your body impossibly closer on his lap.

There was no denying that Jake made you lose every sense of rationality and morals in you, it almost felt as if you were intoxicated in his presence, your heart raced, thumping faster than ever, urging you to say yes.

“Please ruin me, Jake,” you whispered, giving in and looking at him with innocent eyes.

“That’s a good girl.”

He was swift to push you down on the mattress, getting on top of you with hungry eyes to the point you almost felt as if you were a prey, and you liked it.

His cold chain brushed against your clavicle, making you shiver as he leaned down to press his lips against yours in a fervent kiss, a groan leaving his mouth as he finally had you so close to him.

Your fingers held on to his shoulders desperately, he was difficult to resist, and who were you to resist such pleasure? His plush lips moulding against yours, his hand squeezing your waist as you allowed yourself to get immersed into him.

You could feel the warmth spreading in your abdomen like wildfire, a gasp giving him the perfect opportunity to taste you, sliding his tongue down your mouth to deepen the kiss, the taste of chocolate lingering in his mouth and you let yourself moan into his lips.

You tugged on his hair, realizing how correct he was about you being obsessed with his lips as you found yourself chasing after it when he broke the kiss, making him chuckle at your desperation.

“So fucking pretty,” he muttered, staring at your slightly swollen lips, which glistened with the mixture of your spit.

He wasn’t the one to waste time, his tongue licking your neck, placing kisses all over it, causing you to squirm and pant till he found the spot which had you rolling your eyes with sheer pleasure.

Placing a hand over your mouth to silence your moans, he felt a feeling of possessiveness take over him. You looked so fucked out and he hadn’t even done anything to you yet, he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he sees someone else with you.

The mere thought had him biting and sucking on your skin in an attempt to mark the very spot which had you shivering and your toes curling. He slipped his other hand inside your flimsy tee, and in your bra, feeling your hardened nipples which he flicked between his fingers.

Your body felt more awake than ever, each touch of his getting a reaction out of you, “so responsive, have you been waiting for this, princess?”

You could only nod in desperation, trying your best to keep your moans at bay, not wanting to alert your grandma. He kissed your cheek before he got up to get rid of his own clothes, giving you a few seconds to stare at his faint abs, highlighted by the dim lights along with his tattoo, which you so desperately wanted to kiss.

The image of you looking his way with such big eyes, chest heaving up and down only ignited the carnal feeling of him wanting to be deep inside you.

It all felt new to you, being aware and not drunk this time, however it wasn’t just that—Jake made you feel this way, your thighs closing when you felt a fluttering sensation down your abdomen.

“Undress,” he ordered.

“What—”

“Undress for me, darling,” his words were smoother than the melted butter, making you work upon it instantly.

His eyes were fixated on your figure the entire time you took to get your clothing off, feeling shy under his gaze, not to mention the outline of his cock in his boxers intrigued you even further.

“Fuck, you’re all mine,” he said under his breath.

His plush lips were soon on your tits, his other hand fondling and caressing your nipple while he worked his tongue, swirling it ever so perfectly before giving it a soft bite, making you arch your back as you bit on your discarded clothes, tears forming in your eyes with these euphoric sensations.

He’s giving you all you could ask for and you? You’re a mess with your lipstick smudged and ragged breathing. Just when you thought that Jake couldn’t get you anymore wilder, he stuffed his hand down your wet panties, which brushed against your extremely sensitive clit. Even biting your clothes couldn’t stop a moan coming out of your mouth.

“You like it, baby? That’s my good girl. So pretty and wet all for daddy, yeah? Daddy’s gonna taste you now, princess,” his spoke, his accent deep.

“Daddy?” you asked, whimpering right after when his lips touched your bare pussy, pressing a kiss on your clit.

There was something in the way he addressed himself so confidently which made you want to submit yourself to him fully, only pushing yourself deeper into sub space as he worshipped every inch of your body.

“That’s right, baby,” he spoke against your, sending waves of pleasure through your body as his strong hands held your thighs open.

Obscene noises of him licking and sucking resonated the room as you bucked up your hips unconsciously, desperate for friction, making his cock twitch while he licked languid strokes up and down your cunt, his hot breath fanning your folds, wishing to hear you moan despite the circumstances.

“Shh, princess. We don’t want your grandma to know now, do we?” He smirked.

Your hand slithers into Jake’s hair, tugging on it as you convulse in pleasure, letting him continue his ministrations on your leaking pussy, his lips soft unlike his actions, which were rushed and aimed at your pleasure.

Your eyes roll back, arousal reaching its peak at the unadulterated pleasure as you repeated his name when he moved down to shove his tongue into your cunt, lapping at your juices when you reach your orgasm.

Yet he doesn’t stop, inserting his slender finger in your tight hole, pumping it in and out gently at first while you whine and he gets up, wetness coating his lips. He lets you taste yourself by kissing you yet again, his fingers entertaining your cunt.

Your breaths are heavier, louder and you can’t wait to have his cock shoved into you. You weren’t the one to have lewd thoughts in general yet here you were, moaning into Jake’s mouth, clenching around his two fingers which thrusted into you at a newfound speed.

“Yes, daddy! Yes, oh god,” you mumbled to yourself, letting the lust consume you.

His fingers curled inside you before he decided that you were ready for his cock.

“Let’s see how desperate you are, beg for daddy’s cock, princess,” he demanded.

Now that his cock was in view, you stared at it dumbfounded. It was veiny and stood hard and leaking, the tip was red and ready to fuck you dumb, it pushed you over the edge.

“Please, daddy? I’ll be a good girl for y—you please fuck me?” A tear left your eye, tainting your image even further which aroused Jake as a sadistic smile overtook his face.

You continued to beg him, and he gave you no warning as he lined his tip on your entrance, coating it with your juices, almost pushing it all in but instead, he gave you just the tip, which made you beg out of frustration.

“Tell me about your darkest fantasies,” Jake teased, seeing you pout and whine, “do it baby, only then you’ll get this cock into you.”

You were going crazy, “I—I want to be fucked awake,” you confessed, hiding your face.

“Is that so? How cute,” he commented, pulling your body flush.

Within a second, he thrusted into you sharply, your wet juices acting as the perfect lube to suck his cock right in as he bottomed out fully, cussing at the feeling of your walls clenching around him.

You could feel the imprint of his dick on your lower abdomen, and he pressed on it with a proud smirk, only to make you whimper lowly, your voice quivering with deep he was in you, “big—so big.”

You laid beneath Jake in such a way that the sight was captivating for him, your vulnerability paired with his ignited primal hunger.

He firmly wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling out slightly before he thrusted into you again as you were clinging onto him.

He had never found anyone like you before, it was as if you were the only one for him, the one who reacts to his touch in such ways, the one who drives him insane to the point he has to rile you up just to get you to talk to him.

His slow thrusts soon turned into relentless, pleasure inducing thrusts, and you found yourself bucking your hips up to meet him, helping him reach deeper spots in you, his tip hitting your g-spot.

Choked moans escaped your lips, reaching the point of complete incoherence as you got drunk in the intensity of Jake’s presence, your senses overwhelmed as he fucked you without any interruptions.

“Daddy—please!”

Sensing that you were close, he thrusted harder, twitching inside your pussy, his lips capturing yours as you both cried out, reaching your climax in harmony, breathing in deeply before he filled you up with his warm cum, which mixed with your own juices.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, causing him to laugh and pull you in a sweet kiss.

You could see the clear switch in his demeanour when he cleaned you up, asking gentle questions about how you felt or if he went overboard.

He was perfect.

Something had changed in the air, and you both were aware of it, but rather than verbalising it, you slept in each other’s arms, Jake staying up a few minutes just to see your peaceful face.

“Good night, princess.”

Jake woke up early despite not getting enough sleep, still not believing that he fucked you—the prettiest girl he swore he’d ever laid eyes on.

And he was sure to make your desires come true.

You wore nothing but his shirt to sleep, which made your pussy accessible to him, his fingers playing with your folds ever so gently as he didn’t wish to wake you up, not this soon at least.

He continued to do so for a remarkably long time, smiling each time he saw you stir in your sleep, his lips leaving kisses on your neck and shoulder blades till you were fully wet for him.

Jake was shocked when you revealed that you were into somnophilia, but who was he to deny his girl some pleasure?

His other hand was busy taking care of his raging boner, seeing you dressed in his shirt, your scent mixed with his only drove him crazy.

His grip on your thighs was firm when he straddled you, pumping his cock a few times before he pushed it in you with a few thrusts, the stretch being enough to wake you up with a whimper, your state disoriented but the second you realized that Jake was making your wish actually come true, you moaned.

His dick throbbed inside you and you were still not over last night’s adventure as curse words filled the air, along with the mist of your unholy activities and fervent longing as he thrusted with a groan, kissing and nibbling on the skin of your neck.

You were sure you had bruises forming on your clavicle by now, which also extended down your breasts and inner thighs, Jake being particular about having you marked through and through.

You could only sigh and plead for more, beg for more, the word daddy coming out of your mouth effortlessly, which was effective to the point it made Jake fuel with desire as he provided you with the most overwhelming, ecstasy filled orgasm, him coming all over your pussy, pulling out this time.

“I like you,” he revealed all of a sudden, his smile the epitome of boyishness which made you chuckle with your newfound happiness.

That’s one good way to wake up in the morning.

“Guess what, Sim. I like you too,” you confessed, growing shy by the last word and he pulled you in a sweet hug, swinging your body along his, your laughter filling up the room.

You gasped, looking at him with wide eyes.

You had forgotten to help him escape without your grandma knowing.

The escape was successful, and so were your holidays which were nearing. Your sadness was apparent on your face, having no desire to go back leaving your grandma and aunt Sim.

More importantly, Jake.

It has become a routine for him to slip into your room ever so professionally to sleep with you—some nights you did sleep, other nights he gave you every reason to be awake.

Which also served as a solid reason for Jake to stop indulging in the so called drug trade, one instance of almost being caught was enough for you both, not that you were involved in the first place.

He opened up to you, actually acting like a goof at times, juxtaposing his usual bad boy demeanour. He provided you with the best of both worlds.

Your feelings for the guy you used to find annoying were increasing at record speed per day, and now that it was finally one day before you’d leave, you couldn’t help but be bothered by Jake’s absence.

He’s always around, which made you wonder where and what he was up to, especially when you wanted nothing more than to spend your time in his arms, lip quivering at the thought that he might not wish to see you anymore.

However, that wasn’t the case when he showed up in the doorway, huffing and hair messy as if he was running.

“Jaeyun,” you whispered, letting him pull you in the comfort of his warm arms.

“I’m coming,” he breathed, making you look at him with wide eyes.

“What?” You blinked, almost stuttering.

“I’m coming to Seoul with you, princess. I got into the same university,” he chuckled as you snatched the envelope from him, jumping with excitement as tears filled your eyes, hugging him even tighter.

You felt like your heart was going to explode with the excitement, which Jake found heartwarming. He had planned this the second he saw you and got to know you. It was a given that he wanted to be with you.

“What about your mom?” You asked softly, realizing that she’d be alone.

“She’s gonna stay with Gigi. Our ladies are strong women, right?” He asked, caressing your lip, which you had noticed was his habit.

“W—when did you even apply—this is so amazing,” you went on rambling, which was something he adored, but kissing your lips to shut you up was his favourite thing, especially when he got to see your shy smile right after.

“So, we’re gonna be together?” You questioned, shyness taking over.

“You’re wrong if you think you’ll ever get rid of me now, princess,” he smirked, teasing you again.

This side of him made you faux scoff, “but what if I want to get rid of you?” You challenged, knowing well you weren’t capable of that.

He took a step closer to you, his broad smile illuminating the room, his hand resting on your waist pulling you closer, “I’d like to see you try and escape me,” he retorted.

“You want me that much, huh?” Your smile was coy.

He brushed your nose tip with his, making you chuckle with joy.

“I’ll always want my princess.”

THANK YOU FOR READING!

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @ddeonuism @macaroonff @ajayke-reads @en-myworld @lunalovesstories @jayzdaze @deobitifull @silenth1lls @celeste-hoon @mari-oclock @kpoprhia @bolliwon @woniebae @lalalalawon @blessedcursd

permanent taglist open! comment or send an ask to be added <3

#fic : roman holiday #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #jake smut #jake hard hours #enhypen imagines #kpop smut #jake x reader #enha smut #jake #enhypen scenarios #jake sim smut

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madaqueue · 1 year ago

Text

Lost Cherry

pairing: yuta okkotsu x f!reader

themes/content: dark content. yandere/stalking. non-curse modern college au. language, smut. scent kink (?), alcohol consumption, drugging (no nsfw during), oral (f receiving), semi-public sex. 18+, MDNI

word count: 2.8k

a/n: "i love this guy and whatever undiagnosed anxiety disorder he has" is my fav yuta quote i've ever heard and honestly...me too (and yeah this is based off the tom ford perfume what about it)

Yuta noticed everything about you. How could he not, when the essence of perfection, an angel reincarnate, was here before him?

He truly saw you, his dark eyes boring into your soul as he soaked in your every move, every reaction, every thought.

When you met him your freshman year of college you thought he was sweet, albeit a little strange, his intense gaze putting you slightly on edge for a reason you couldn’t quite pin down. But nevertheless he was always the perfect gentleman, holding every door for you, driving you to class when it rained, bringing you your favorite foods when you were sick. He did it without question, as though caring about you came second nature to him, like it was his one true state of being.

The two of you continued growing closer over the years, sleeping on each other’s couches when study nights ran long, going to concerts of a band you loved together, cooking your favorite foods. It was almost uncanny how similar you two were, sharing the same taste in everything, Yuta’s smile never faltering as you gawked at him in disbelief when he recognized the obscure reference you made or when he happened to guess your coffee order. “I guess it’s just fate,” he’d grin as you laughed in awe.

But it’s not fate, he thinks. Fate would never be so careless as to risk letting you slip from his grasp; no, it was him. Time and time again he outsmarted the universe, foiling its plans to separate you. He knows you because he sees you, understands you, in a way no one else ever will (he’ll make sure of that). It wasn’t hard, really - he was always naturally observant, calculated, patient. All he needed to get close to you was a few chance meetings, accidental run-ins, where he could show you just how much he cares about you. And you, being as sweet and kind as you are, fell right into his open arms.

He loves you because he sees you.

He sees the way your lips curl into a smile as you sip your drink from across a crowded bar, a slight frown forming across your features as some pathetic excuse for a man tries to speak to you, making an idiotic joke you politely laugh at; he sees how you fidget with your hands, pulling at the chipping nail polish during class, a tell-tale sign you weren’t understanding the material (and an opportunity for him to explain it to you later while you studied); he sees the way you move when you’re alone, when you think no one’s watching, when you finally let your guard down and ease into the truest form of yourself.

It’s almost like you wanted him to see you, presenting yourself to him like a book with the pages peeled open and the cover ripped off, making it impossible for him to look away. It was only natural for his eyes to wander the words of your soul, mastering the lines and sentences of what makes you you.

So it’s no surprise when he gifts you a perfume that perfectly encapsulates your energy, your essence. After months of searching he finally found one that met his standards, living up to his mental representation of who you are. He knows you’ll love it, and you do - you begin wearing it everyday, the sweet scent of your skin filling his senses whenever you step into a room. The warm, amber notes become equivalent to you, a signal of your presence, a smile gracing his lips every time it wafts by him.

The one thing he doesn’t tell you is that he bought a second bottle, just for him, his best kept secret, the cherished liquid that evokes vivid memories of your laugh, your eyes, your skin, your voice, your everything when he smells it.

It’s harmless, really, when he sprays it on his pillow to help him fall asleep, calmness immediately washing over him as he pictures you there, holding him. He could practically feel the warmth of your body in his empty room, imagining how your soft hands would trace his body.

And when he wakes up, the scent of you still lingering, a smile graces his face as he nuzzles into the cool pillow.

It’s not his fault when he grows dependent on it, spraying the liquid into the air as he screws his eyes shut, picturing you. The way you’d kiss him, how smooth your skin would be, how soft your lips are, how your hands would feel wrapped around his cock, how warm and tight your cunt would feel around him. As he slides his fist around his length, he can’t help but moan your name, the idea of you filling his mind.

You.

One word, all-consuming. You occupy his thoughts, cloud his mind in bliss, every waking second. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

So when he sees you at a house party, wrapping your arms around his neck as you go in for a hug, why the fuck do you smell different?

“New perfume?” he asks, trying to hide how visibly taken aback he is as he pulls away from you.

Nodding, you take a sip of the drink in your hand. “Mhm,” you hum over the music. “Friend got it f’me. Y’like it?” you slur slightly, swaying in his grasp.

“I-it’s nice,” he stutters, his fingers beginning to dig into your arms.

How could you?

Glancing down, he notices the nearly empty cup you cling to, mind racing as he formulates a plan. “Want me to get you another drink?” he asks, steadying his thoughts and tilting his head innocently, hiding the rage he feels behind his dark irises.

A soft smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, lip gloss glowing under the LEDs, as your eyes lazily make their way up to his. Reaching out a hand you ruffle his hair, placing a sticky kiss to his cheek. “You’re s’sweet Yuta,” you murmur against his skin, holding your glass out for him to take.

This would be sweet, if it wasn’t for the vile, traitorous perfume that suddenly overwhelms his senses. It’s too floral, too dry, too not you.

“Be right back,” he purrs, placing a kiss to the top of your head before stepping away, afraid that if he stayed any longer he would do something he regrets.

Besides, he can’t pass up this opportunity: he gets to show you he can take care of you, how much he adores you, and get rid of the chance that anyone thinks they know you like he does.

When he returns, you don’t even notice the weird taste in your drink; why would you? You trust him, like you should. When your body starts to feel too heavy, legs struggling to keep you up, you lean on him, like you should. When your head begins pounding and you just want to lay down, you let him take you home, like you should.

In the comfort of your apartment, one all too familiar to him, he helps you change into pajamas before bundling you up under the blankets of your bed. You look so sweet, so innocent, as your head rests against the pillow, eyelashes fluttering as you ease into sleep.

Your mind is cloudy as you rest, body still pulsing with each beat of your heart, suddenly sensing his weight shifting from where he sits at the end of your bed. “Yuta?” you whisper weakly.

He could melt just hearing you call his name, your voice like honey. “Yes?” he responds, turning his head over his shoulder to face you.

“Stay,” you murmur, reaching a hand out to him.

God, he could die happy right here. He could afford a few hours of sleeping next to you, right? It’s not like there’s any urgency now, he’s already lined everything up, now he just has to knock it down.

“Okay,” he breathes, getting under the covers next to you.

The warmth of your body envelops him as you lazily wrap your arms around his torso, uncoordinated motions to keep him, your one source of stability, close to you. Your thoughts are fuzzy as you fade into Yuta’s softness, letting him overtake your mind. Shifting his weight he leans into you, head resting on yours as you bury your face into his chest. He holds you against him, the scent of your shampoo lingering on your hair, a familiar one, a kind one.

He waits until your breathing slows, soft snores leaving your throat as you rest peacefully against him. Gingerly untangling his body from yours he rises, making his way to your bathroom. Sitting atop your counter is the target of his task: the sacrilegious bottle of perfume. It takes so little for him to knock it off the ledge, glass shattering as it hits the tile, the strong smell suddenly overwhelming the confined space, making his stomach turn as he pictures you in it. Never again.

He softly pads back to your bed, careful not to wake you as he rejoins your shared warmth under the comforter. Overwhelmingly pleased, his heart races as a contented grin spreads across his face.

When you question him about it the next morning, it’s easy to brush off.

“Yuta?” you question sleepily after you return from the bathroom, “Do you know what happened to my perfume?”

Normally the frown across your face would haunt him, tugging at his heartstrings to see you unhappy, but now it takes everything in him to not show his excitement. “Dunno,” he shrugs, “maybe you knocked it over last night?”

“Mmm, probably,” you hum, settling back in next to him as your head rests on his chest, hoping you don’t notice how his heart races at the contact, your mind still too foggy to realize you never even told him that the bottle broke. “Thanks for taking care of me last night. Sorry I got so drunk, I don’t know what happened.”

“Nothin’ to apologize for,” he reassures, his arms reaching around you, “I like taking care of you.”

“Thanks, Yu,” you murmur, nuzzling your head further into the softness of his t-shirt.

It’s so easy, he thinks. Everything with you is just that, easy: it’s easy to make you trust him, easy to look after you, easy to love you.

So when he sees you a few days later, eating lunch outside between classes, it’s easy for him to go over and sit next to you, the grass tickling his shins as he crosses his legs.

“Hi, Yuta,” you smile, your cheeks slightly rosy in the sun as you lean your head onto his shoulder.

Before he can respond, a familiar scent hits his nose, the one that is so, undeniably, you. “You smell good,” he blurts out, unable to contain his excitement.

A giggle escapes your lips at the sudden compliment, the sound soft and sweet. “Thanks,” you laugh, “it’s the perfume you got me, so I’m glad you still like it.”

“O-of course I do,” he stammers, “I picked it because it’s perfect for you.”

Looking up at him, you don’t miss the slight redness covering his face as his adoration for you begins to slip through the cracks of his resolve. All you can do is continue giggling, the most angelic sound in the world echoing in his mind, as he melts before you. “You’re too sweet, y’know that?” you ask.

Popping one of the cherries you brought for lunch into your mouth, a comfortable silence falls between you as Yuta continues staring at you in awe - how could you be so perfect? He has to stop himself from nearly drooling as he watches your tongue work the pit from the flesh of the fruit, the way your lips move absolutely tantalizing. He has to have you.

Sensing his gaze, you turn to face him. “Want one?” you ask politely, holding the bag out to him.

As you shift the richness of your perfume again wafts towards him in the breeze, tearing down any remaining walls of shame or embarrassment left encasing his feelings for you. Suddenly he leans forward, one hand going to the back of your neck as his lips crash into yours.

The kiss is messy, needy, as his tongue slides into your mouth. His body presses against yours, desperate for more of you, as you fall into the grass. His hands are everywhere, finally able to feel the one thing he’s been thinking about for years, as they roam your body.

Pulling away slightly, you breathlessly try to get his attention with a call of his name, but he doesn’t stop, only shifting his weight to kiss down your neck. Everything about you overwhelms his senses as he sucks against your skin, leaving a trail of bruises behind. His.

Your back arches off the ground as he moves lower, lips trailing kisses down your abdomen over your clothes as his palms grasp at your tits, your stomach, your ass, any part of you he can find, his touch hot. When he begins undoing the button to your shorts, a wave of panic overtakes you as you process what he wants.

“Y-Yuta,” you stutter, your hand reaching down to tilt his chin up, forcing him to face you. As he does, your face flushes at just how feral he looks, his pupils blown wide and lips parted as he pants expectantly.

“Please,” he whispers, “need to taste you,” his eyes moving back between your legs as he continues removing your shorts.

“B-but-” you begin, worried about the chance of being seen if someone were to walk past the small field you sat in, your gaze moving across the open space.

“There’s no one here,” he explains without looking up, sensing your nervousness. “I’ll make you feel s’good, I promise.”

Glancing around, you confirm the absence of any other students or professors, biting your lower lip nervously as you acquiesce.

Frankly, Yuta didn’t care if there was anyone around - once he started, he couldn’t stop.

He tugs your pants off, pausing only momentarily to admire the wet spot in your panties before pulling the flimsy material out of the way, his mouth attaching to your cunt. He moans as his tongue meets your folds, so much better than he could’ve imagined. The sound vibrating against your skin elicits a sharp gasp from you, your hands instinctively reaching down to his hair.

“Yuta,” you whine as his tongue glides up you.

God, he loves the way you say his name; he needs to hear it again.

His palms trace down your body to hold onto your thighs tightly, nearly leaving more bruises against your skin as he pulls you impossibly closer to him. Swirling around your clit he whines as your hips move up, desperate for more friction, his heart swelling at the idea that you need him just as badly as he needs you.

After years of loving you he knows just what to do, exactly how to move to make you feel good, his compendium of your body finally paying off. Slipping his tongue into you, another whimper escapes his throat as you moan his name. Bringing one hand down he roughly circles your clit with his thumb, using the exact pattern he’s seen you do more times than he could count, one he knows is guaranteed to bring you closer and closer and closer.

As your grip on his hair tightens, he knows it’s working.

His mind is flooded with you, your smell, your taste, your sounds, your everything. He loves it, he wants to crawl inside you and live in your heart forever, just like you’ve done with his. He wants to make a home in the corner of your mind, getting to see the most private and intimate thoughts you have that not even he could be privy to.

The only thing tethering him to reality is your soft voice calling his name, the most soothing rhythm in the world as your body begins to shake, heat building as you approach your release.

“Yuta,” you whimper, “m’close.”

Warmth spreads across his body, knowing he’s the one making you feel good, taking care of you, loving you, like nobody else ever could. His motions pick up, messily grinding his tongue against your cunt as you pull him into you. Everywhere he presses feels like flames, heat pricking over every inch of your body.

His name leaves your lips like a prayer as you come undone on his tongue, a series of whines reverberating against you from Yuta as he continues messily lapping you up, desperate for anything more you’re willing to give him.

When he finally pulls his face away from between your legs he’s immediately back on top of you, his lips pressing into yours with the same feral desire. His breath is hot against yours as you taste yourself on him, the entire thing overwhelming your mind as your body comes down from its high.

Pausing for only a moment, his eyes flutter open as he looks down at you, a gentle sheen of sweat across your features, grass surrounding your hair, cheeks a soft pink. Everything about you so, absolutely, undeniably perfect.

“Mine,” he whispers to himself, so quietly you nearly don’t catch it, before his lips are on yours again.

477 notes · View notes

luluahxo · 2 months ago

Text

bonachita

14k - unedited - ni-ki x reader

warnings: 18+ smut, drug use, parental abuse, suicidal ideation

(this is unedited, its been in my drafts for over a month so I decided I'd just post it, maybe edit it in the future and move onto writing my other drafts. also met the most diabolical florida man while I was at the end of writing this. thinking of u babe!)

summary: my heart is a mess of thick, congealed blood from the pressure of the speed. I associated him with the paresthesia in my chest. I associated him with the sickness I enjoyed. cursed I believed myself to be, I didn’t mind being reworked. reworked into his image. this is not love but this is a bond. One that I cherish. drive me around the track in your Trans-Am one more time. take me to Bonachita. die with me there.

its florida in the spring when you meet Riki, the boy who encapsulates everything you silently dreamed for and everything you runaway from

[00MPH]

My heart is a mess of thick, congealed blood from the pressure of the speed. I associated him with the paresthesia in my chest. I associated him with the sickness I enjoyed. Cursed I believed myself to be, I didn’t mind being reworked. Reworked into his image. This is not love but this is a bond. One that I cherish.

Drive me around the track in your Trans-Am one more time.

Take me to Bonachita.

Die with me there.

[01MPH]

We first met with no words exchanged between us. I often spent time in the campus lounge situated on the first floor of the library.

Not wanting to go home or study, I was killing time by watching the 1970 Trans Am season. With my cell phone in hand and the sound of a race playing, I headed towards the vending machine for a snack, where he was crouched.

Only the tips of his blond hair could be seen peeking out from the gaps in his black hoodie.

I stared back at him awkwardly before realizing I should lower the volume on my phone. It was just me and him in the lounge on a Friday night but he seemed bothered by the noise. His face was striking, each feature harmonious like an old oil painting. His brows knit together and creased into the folds in between making an expression that gave me a sense of embarrassment. I gave up on getting a snack all together and went back to my seat.

I wouldn’t see him again for a while

[02MPH]

I stayed on campus until late because I was a’ problem child’. To go home would be to bring problems. Me and my mother never agree, I’d always somehow manage to do the wrong thing.

In her words ‘sorry meant nothing’. Her fits of anger often ended in something thrown or broken. Sometimes I felt like I deserved it. Other times I found her suffocating and over reactive.

When I got to university I became a worse problem but all the same to her.

I was frustrated I couldn’t leave my home or the shitty rundown town we lived in - no chance I’d ever have enough money.

In my restless dissatisfaction I picked up some habits from the people around me. The first was cigarettes. Something about the smoky and burnt taste it left in my mouth soothed me alongside the buzz of nicotine. The time I started smoking was the time I also began accepting my college friends inviting me out.

I began going to campus parties but I never got wasted. Instead I began taking pills like valium or xanax.

I sat slumped in the corners of houses and frat party bathrooms, happy in the intense drowsy calm I felt.

I felt so damned.

In my blurred memories I can still remember when the boy from the vending machine appeared in front of me.

It was towards the end of Spring semester and I sat, muscles loose, by the edge of the pool.

He was swimming in illuminated waters, the only light that shone in the pitch black night. Slowly he swam towards me, pushing his elbows up outside the pool and splashing water onto my face. I had been cut by the broken glass in one of my mother’s fits again that night and the chlorine in the water burned the fresh wound under my eye.

Wincing from the pain I opened my eyes back to see a familiar face. That was when I knew it was him. His recognizable hair was now dark at the tips but his roots remained blond. Among everyone else he stood out. He said something I couldn’t understand in my drugged up mind and I leaned forward to hear him better but my weak body fell into the water.

My cut burned just as much as my lungs that inhaled the pool water. I could only see the surface become farther and in a numbing limbo I sank. My body wouldn’t move how I wanted. I couldn’t get my arms to push me upwards. My mind felt as if it was falling asleep and the urgency my body should feel was shut off. My half open eyes saw a silhouette come down towards me and I thought maybe it was an angel ready to take my soul away and relay my sins.

The angel was a blur of blond that came to lift me out. Yet it was no angel, it was a boy.

His hands left a prickling sensation on my cold skin. My clothes stuck to my skin as closely as his gaze that never relented. I was pressed against him chest to chest, holding me afloat.

All I could say was “Who are you?”

He told me his name was Riki and he held me in the pool throughout the night as I drifted out of consciousness, wondering if this was a fraction of what death felt like.

[03MPH]

I woke up feeling soggy sheets beneath me. The ceiling didn’t look familiar and my muscles were twitching from the crash of all the valium I took. My eyes regained focus but my mind remained foggy as I sat up and saw in front of me a passed out Riki in a chair. I called out his name but my voice came out hoarse. I could feel my muscles tighten uncomfortably as I crawled towards him and reached out from the edge of the bed.

To be honest I was becoming terrified at the unfamiliar setting. I had no idea where I was and my own body could barely function. I collapsed forward causing my fingertips to graze Riki’s knee. My face was nestled in the sheets and I felt my muscles wreak havoc on my state of being. My jaw fell slack from the sheer pain of the spasms.

I could hear movement from where Riki sat and no longer felt his knee against my hand.

He groaned from what I could tell was him waking up. The chair squeaked as he stood to his feet and a small shadow fell over me. A cold hand wrapped around my chin and I faced his sleepy eyes looking down at me.

“You’re a mess aren’t you.”

I could see his hair was still damp as if he came here with me straight from the pool. His cold hands pushed me up to sit on my legs which he pulled out from under me to hang over the bed. His other hand rested on the back of my head. In his freezing embrace I shook. The only warmth I felt was from the small tears that began to form in my eyes.

Riki began to caress my hair, his hand that moved my legs wrapping around my side.

I wanted to ask why he was treating a stranger like this but my voice was still gone from my dry throat and mouth.

“You’ll be fine,” he said. His words confused me more than they soothed me.

Sometimes my body reacted badly to the pills I took but it’d always pass. This reaction was heightened compared to all those in the past though.

I hated to appear this way in front of a stranger.

I pressed my hands down into the mattress and tried to lift myself up on my own. Horsley I managed to ask where we were.

He told me it was his campus apartment.

My voice came out disgustingly as I responded in shock, “Why? I don't know you.”

He sighed and leaned back on his palms.

“What else could I do when you passed out in my arms. You didn’t come with any friends.”

At my silence he got up and pulled the sheets off the bed from beneath me, noting they were wet due to coming straight from the pool. He left the room and I sat looking down at myself. My shorts had ridden up my thighs, my shirt strap was falling off my shoulder, the fabric had bunched up, and my hair felt damp against skin. All the while my body still trembled.

I was an absolute mess.

Riki came back into the room with clean sheets, setting them down on the bedside table before helping me off the bed and into the chair he once sat in.

“What time is it?”

He pointed at his small bedside clock, “Four in the morning.”

He threw the sheets over the bed and tucked them in as I watched

“Do you wanna stay the night?”

If I went home like this my mother would do more than throw a bottle.

“If you don’t mind.”

He smiled and said he didn’t.

I decided I’d hold my questions for when I wasn’t in such a pathetic state.

[04MPH]

I got ready to leave Riki’s apartment at around ten in the morning. I passed by him asleep on the couch while thinking of excuses to give my mother. His face was peaceful like an angel’s. I couldn’t help but admire the soft slope of his nose that led to his pouty lips illuminated by the morning light. I crouched down in front of him and at my presence his eyelashes fluttered open. He seemed to be a light sleeper. Sitting up he rubbed the sleep away from his eyes and asked if I was leaving.

“Yeah, but thank you for last night”

As I stood up he reached out for my wrist.

“Let me give you a ride.”

“It’s ok you helped me out enough.”

He sat up straight and persisted.

“No no it's really ok.”

I relented,

“Ok.”

I didn’t wanna pay for a ride anyway I guess.

He ran into his room, grabbing a hoodie and cap to cover the mess of his morning hair. I kicked my legs on the couch as he fumbled around the apartment, looking for his keys, brushing his teeth, and mumbling. He seemed more boyish in these moments than when I’d seen him before when his expression was cold and distant. Behind all the mysteriousness perhaps Riki was an average boy. I put my own shoes on and stood by the door.

Once Riki was ready, we headed out to his car. I stopped in amazement when I saw that it was a 2012 Boss.

It looked just like the car I'd seen in the 1970 Trans Am season. Even the retro stripes were perfectly recreated, and I couldn’t help laughing out loud in awe.

"You have a 302 Mustang?"

Riki smiled mischievously as he ran his hand down the side of the car.

"Do you like cars?"

"No, not really. But I like watching vintage races.”

"I've been obsessed with it since I saw it in the 70s season."

"It’s beautiful. You can drive a manual?"

Riki rolled his eyes a little and responded in amusement.

"Of course."

He unlocked the car and I got in the passenger seat. Riki immediately started the car and the Mustang rumbled to life. As he pulled out of the lot, the side pipes let out a sharp bark, echoing through the residence.

“You’re definitely not from around here, no one can afford something like this here,” I mused.

“I’m not, I’m from Bonachita.”

“Bonachita?”

“It’s a West Coast city,” He turned and smirked at me, “But where are we going.”

“Just keep going straight, I'll tell you when to turn.”

“Do you party often?”

Riki’s question broke the silence in between my directions.

“I just started going this past semester, my friends invite me out sometimes.” “I didn’t see you with them though?”

It was true, me and my friends sort of went separate ways at parties. They’d probably find a guy, dance, drink and I’d find a good corner to get high off pills. Still, there were times we’d spend the night together.

“I saw you all alone too?”

Riki hummed, tapping the steering wheel in thought before answering.

“That was my first time going to one. I didn’t recognize much of anyone until I saw you so I came up to you but then everything happened.”

‘Didn’t someone invite you? How come you were all one.”

“Not really, I just heard around about it.”

“Not a party person, huh?”

His smile was shy, “No.”

“You’d think a boy that looks like you is.”

“A boy like me?.”

“You know, dyed hair, ear piercings, the denim and leather jackets.”

“Just not my thing.”

“Rather focus on school?”

His nod was slow, like he had more reasoning than my explanation but ran with it.

I directed Riki all the way until a couple blocks before my house and had him drop me off.

Before I could get out of the car he folded his hands on top of the steering wheel and rested on his chin to face me.

“Don’t be a stranger.”

It seemed our friendly conversation made me forget about all that happened just the night before. I didn’t know if he even realized I was gone on pills. What did he think? Was it even normal to bring a stranger home like that even if they had passed out? I didn’t know. I guess guys bring girls to their place all the time and have their way with them but Riki seemed to have had a different motivation.

“Why’d you help me out so much?”

Riki hesitated for a brief second.

“You seemed lonely.”

“That on its own?”

His smile grew weak, “I guess I was too.”

At a party full of people ‘lonely’. Funny.

I walked down the block home with my heart a little warmer than before.

[05MPH]

The warmth I felt was fresh blood.

Don’t get my mother wrong, she’s not a violent woman. She’s just not okay. I shouldn’t have pushed her limits. If I was a little more considerate, if I thought of someone other than myself I wouldn’t experience this.

Yet there I go thinking of myself all over again.

Silly of me to come home with a joy that neglected all my actions, forgetting that there's consequences for any decision.

The moment I came through the door I saw her sitting at the dining room table a hall down. Her blank stare went nowhere but became sharp as I approached. Her sudden screams scratched at my ear drums, asking ‘where I was, who did I think I was, just because dad left do I think I can do whatever I want’.

My apologies reached deaf ears. It was impossible regardless for me to look genuinely apologetic coming home like this.

She held her head in her hands and kept mumbling over and over again before looking back up at me with an indescribable face.

With a final yell, she snapped, “Don’t look at me like that.” She threw her morning cup of coffee straight at me.

Lucky for me it was empty. Still the porcelain shattered at contact and dug into the skin of my collarbone, eyebrow, and arms. The searing pain resounded simultaneously in every spot I had been pierced. At my feet the pieces of the cup lay like a halo. I couldn’t look up. I didn’t have it in me to face her eyes and could only count the pieces of shattered porcelain to hold back my burning tears that bubbled through my throat and to my eyes.

She wouldn’t look at me or speak to me after.

It’d last days.

She did that with my dad once.

She went upstairs.

I cleaned the mess.

[06MPH]

I trembled with anxiety as I bandaged my new cuts in the mirror. Every creak or slamming door made me flinch. Even though the bathroom door was locked I was afraid she’d walk in. From my school bag I pulled out a tiny plastic baggie I had for a while now. I was reluctant to use it, but I thought maybe it would ease the pain for now. I emptied the contents onto the counter top and attempted to line it up with the edge of a cleanser bottle. I brought my nose down to the edge and pressed my index finger against the side of my nose.

White powder glaciers, broken up and inhaled by me.

I rubbed my nose clean and quietly slipped through the front door. It was Monday, I had to show up to class.

I never did make it though.

Once I got to campus I found myself circling around hallways I’d never been down before. My brain found I had to read all the boards in the Humanities Department before going anywhere but then I also had to stare at the senselessly big television in the Business building that showed the stock market. I was in the Engineering hallway when I ran into Riki. When I saw him flocking out of class alongside the rest of his classmates I reacted with no inhibitions and grabbed onto his shoulder. His pretty face turned to me with shock. It’s been over a week since we actually saw one another. Such an entrancing expression with the furrow in his brows. Immediately I begged him to take me for a ride.

”Let’s take a drive, let's go.”

He looked at me as if I told him to come with me and kill the president.

Maybe I came off suddenly but I bubbled with the desire to use my free will and so I did. This euphoria was blending my heart into my mind and I made decisions with no further contemplation than the mere thought.

”Please, please.”

”Do you not have class?”

”Do you have class?”

”No..”

My other hand rose to his shoulder as if I was a coach pep-talking my star athlete.

“Then let's go.”

He laughed me off, “I guess I can’t say no to you.”

[07MPH]

The bumps and slopes of the winding roads felt as if the wheels were shoes I wore while walking on the street. The speed with the windows down during a warm April evening could only be described as fresh. I felt this was the youth that I hadn't yet lived. The coke enhanced every passing gust of wind into a euphoria I wanted to drown in. I rested my shoulder blades on the open window and looked up at the sky, my hair blowing violently around me. Is that the sky where the angels sit looking down on us? Is it just a metaphor? Were the angels on my shoulders falling off from the accelerating speed of Riki’s car?

I bent further out the window, now turning around to rest on my elbows before I felt a tug on my hair pulling me back inside the car.

Riki’s eyes stayed on the road just as his hands in my hair did.

“Are you trying to kill yourself?”

I laughed deliriously and leaned onto his shoulder.

“No.”

Heaven is a beautiful place for the dead but I wouldn’t see it, so why die now?

Riki’s eyes flickered from me to the road again.

“Why is your face all cut up?”

I ignored him and bored holes into his side profile with my eyes. I wanted to take a piece of him, put it in my pocket, ingest it, make it a part of me, cherish it, admire it, possess it. Just never lose it.

I bit onto the sharp point of his jaw. It looked like it’d fit perfectly between my teeth, soft and supple skin, pulled taught around his bone. It felt like a layer of marshmallow candy. Sweet like his face, the taste.

Riki yelped out in pain.

“Actually what is wrong with you?!”

“You look so soft.”

“Are you on something?”

I shrugged my shoulders gleefully and sat back in my seat properly.

I felt my filter had really turned into dust.

“It just happens sometimes when my mom gets mad, she throws something, I get cut, the end. She’s just lonely without my dad, it’s only me and her so she’s sensitive.”

My head rolled over to face Riki and I spoke on.

“Are you lonely? Do you still feel lonely when you’re with me?”

Silence.

Until Riki finally countered.

“I'm not from here. I'm not even from the West Coast originally. I’ve met plenty of people, but still-

even if the city is full of people and the room is crowded, if you can't connect with anyone, it's just loneliness.

I thought that one day I would meet people I could truly connect with. But in the end, that "someone" never showed up.”

“Then who am I to you?”

His laugh was gentle, “A lucky stranger.”

“There's nothing lucky about me.”

“Then why am I happy?”

“Then smile at me.”

Riki never turned to look at me, but I saw the sweetest image of joy form in the shape of his lips, upwards, all the way to his genuine eyes.

[08MPH]

With no direction he drove onward, and the sun drifted down giving space for the moon.

After driving aimlessly Riki parked by the road next to the beach. There's no beach in Florida you could say isn’t a sight.

I asked him if the West Coast beaches are anything like the ones in Florida. He said the water is a duller shade over there. I asked what the beach was like at his original home, before Bonachita. He said there's a coastline, it only exists in his memories blurred with time, but beautiful nonetheless and better than any Florida beach.

I jested and said he must be homesick. My high is gone, I’m thinking of my own home when I ask.

Riki said if he had to call a place home it would be there, and so yes he’s homesick.

I asked him why he's far from home.

The reason is he wants to be a mechanical engineer, there's no better place than the US to get an education for it. He has the money to back it too.

He turns the conversation back onto me.

“What are you studying for?”

I don’t know. I went into college as a Physics major. Would I go to professional school or grad school? I’d like to but I can’t necessarily afford it. Then considering how many times I’ve missed class in the past week and all the hours of studying I skipped out on I probably won’t make it in.

Riki questioned why a physics major.

“I could do research with it I suppose, I just always found the subject interesting.”

It was the fundamentals that pulled me in. The state of entropy of the entire universe will always increase over time. If you ignore that it’s about energy, It's fascinating on its own.

I say I’m fine just living a simple life if it means I’m stable, a nice apartment with a good view, pocket money, and a 401K. I'm not worried about a specific career.

“What happened to your dreams?”

His question caught me off guard for a second.

“I don’t think I really had any.”

“That's just not possible”, he pushed.

“If I could be at peace that's all I could dream for.”

“When you’re this young, even if it may never come true, you should still dream.”

“You’re a really hopeful person.”

“Why aren’t you?”

“I have hope. It might be ridiculous, but it gets me through, because there has to be a limit to everything, and there must be some good that comes with every bad thing. But really, I don't know anything, and that's why its hope.”

His stare shifted into something new, an expression he hadn’t shown yet, one of intrigue.

“Sit with me on the beach.”

I followed Riki’s words that ignored my previous ones.

Down the incline of the hill our shoes pressed into dry sand and we sat.

The waves pulled by the moon crashed fervently, alive and wild.

By my side Riki leaned over, his chin on my shoulder and he said so softly “Don’t beautiful things make you want to dream.”

I faced him, only centimeters separating us, “You want me to dream?”

“Just think of something, something you really want.”

I put my finger to my chin and dramaticized my thinking. Riki bumped by shoulder with his own.

“Be serious.”

“Maybe, go to Bonachita?”

“Why Bonachita?”

“I just wanna go.”

Riki laid back fully in the sand, granules the color of his roots blending in.

“Bonachita, maybe when you're in your sixties.”

“Howcome?”

“It’s a good place to retire, super suburban, lots of old people. A nice place to die.”

“Well that's morbid.”

“Dream another dream.”

I laid down, imitating Riki.

“Then I dream of dying there.”

I had come down for a while now, exhaustion laid heavy on my eyes and I wanted to be lulled to sleep here, never going home.

I nudged myself over until my head rested on top of Riki’s shoulder and chest.

His familiar hand brushed through my hair and I fell asleep.

[09MPH]

By dawn we were a tangle of sleepy limbs and sand. It seemed Riki fell asleep too. I rolled over onto my stomach and watched Riki whistle through his nose asleep while I lit a cigarette. The click of my lighter rose wake to his eyes and groggily he stared back at me. The sharp smokey smell wafted around us and the smoke I exhaled danced in the air like a luring hypnosis that Riki couldn’t take his eyes away from. After taking some drags from my cigarette Riki reached for it and took it away from me.

“Do you smoke?” I asked

Riki sat himself up on one arm and shook his head ‘no’ while bringing the cigarette to his mouth. His lips wrapped prettily around it, tight in a closed-lip drag, still puffy from sleep. A deep inhale led to an immediate exhale—and a sudden coughing fit. I found his inexperience cute, but his eyes wet from the pressure of choking on the smoke and sleep swollen lips made my thoughts run lewd.

I took the cigarette from his hand giggling and ran my thumb across his bottom lip to his cheek, wiping off stray specks of sand.

“Someone like you shouldn’t smoke.”

Riki took the cigarette right back and threw it into the sand.

“Neither should you.”

I kept on laughing and fell backwards onto my elbows.

“Too bad I already do then.”

He rolled his eyes at me and got up, dusting himself off. I did the same as him, quick to nag in my elated mood.

“Riki I’m hungry.”

“Are we on a bender? When am I gonna go to class?”

“I didn’t even eat yesterday.”

His eyes easily showed defeat.

Riki slung his arm around my shoulder and walked me forward to his car.

“Ok ok, just stop whining.”

I leaned into his hold and asked to eat back at his place.

[10MPH]

After Riki took us back to his apartment for breakfast he went to class and I stayed back at his place.

I had no classes on Tuesdays and so I rolled around mindlessly on his bed with nothing to do except study for midterms, which wasn’t going to happen. Laying on my stomach I reached down for my bag and rummaged through it. In the corner was a pill bottle, five tablets of ten milligrams of valium. I swallowed one dry, scratching my throat as it slid down. After fifteen minutes of feeling nothing I took two more, and then another. In the end I was face to face with one pill. She looked so lonely. Back in her bottle she went and I stared at the ceiling, starting to feel heavy. Swallowing the tablets like that left a knot in my throat, uncomfortable and irritating. The sun as well was pouring in from the window and shining with an intensity that made me feel as though I’d dissolve in its light. It was a sign of Spring but I wanted to hide from the sun. So I turned and hid my face in the sheets of Riki’s bed, reminiscent of the last time I was at his place, my first time at his apartment. The musk of cologne and his scent suffocated my nose but it was better than the sun. Addicting in comparison to the sun. Riki was like my valium, every semblance of his presence soothed me, I was hooked, and maybe it wasn’t a healthy attachment but I didn’t want to be without it. Just a short time of knowing one another and I felt so attracted to him like an elementary crush, but it was different. I sought out the feeling of reliability he provided for me. A fictitious sense of guidance, even though we were in the same place in life, equally confused, at the same starting line, but he seemed to run faster and I was out of breath.

I wanted to catch up.

I aimed to dissolve entirely in the sunlight if it was his.

I’d hold on to any good thing.

I’m a thankful person, and simultaneously selfish.

The forty milligrams I took laid a sheet of drowsiness over me and in a disoriented state I mulled over thoughts of Riki until unconscious.

It seems it became a habit to wake up to him. I opened my eyes to Riki sitting on the floor by the head of the bed, textbook open and scribbling down the solutions to whatever problems he was solving.

Watching him every breath felt too light, like my lungs weren't working properly. There was a strange pressure in my chest- not a pain, just a heaviness. I was breathing out too slowly, but I couldn't breathe any faster. I reached out to him, causing a shift in attention

Riki held my hand in return but I only knew from the sight. My hands were numb. Tingling like radio static ran up my limbs

I heard him ask why I was shaking but I didn’t even know I was shaking. I watched my hand tighten around his as I made a conscious effort to.

I closed my eyes and pretended to fall asleep so he wouldn’t know that my body was falling out of tune, but I was still trembling. It was pointless.

A shadow rested over my dark sight, and when I opened my eyes I saw Riki’s jacket covering me.

I was lifted up into his arms where he held me like a child.

Riki’s voice came out broken, as if he was holding back his worry to try and seem calm.

“What did you do?”

I could only press my head against his chest, hoping to gain some kind of sensation.

Riki's arms wrapped around me. They were firm, but with the gentleness of someone handling something fragile. I knew he was holding me, but I couldn't really feel it. All I felt was a faint pressure on my skin. I wasn't sure if it was really warmth. My body was too heavy to move, yet too light to feel real. I wanted to get closer, I wanted to feel him. Even his voice whispering in my ear sounded far away, like it was through another room. He was holding me. but it felt like I was a ghost. It scared me.

His hands around my shoulders gripped tighter, the tips of his fingers now in my field of vision as he spoke softly against my ear.

“You were like this last time and I thought it was because of you falling into the pool but that's not it. Just tell me what this is.”

This whole time he had no idea?

I don’t wanna tell him.

I fought against my jaw to get the words out,“It’s ok, I’m ok”.

My cadence was sluggish and only proved to counter my point.

Riki’s voice was barely audible, “No it's not.”

We sat like that for so long I couldn’t count the time, somewhere in those hours I didn’t even notice when I began to cry. I was consoled by his mere presence, soothed by his words, and nurtured by his relentless compassion.

My senses didn’t come back for an entire day after. I never called my mom, I never went to class, Riki stayed by my side cradling my body, and never taking me to the hospital due to my pleas. The fatigue lingered and my muscles would twitch but at some point I could feel the heat of his skin flush against mine again.

“Riki,” I whispered.

He responded with a hum.

“Why are you so good to me?”

His fingertips ran through my hair and brushed against my shoulder.

“Because I care about you.”

I sat up to look him in the eye. I didn’t understand. It didn’t make sense.

“But we’ve only known each other for a week?

His eyes held no trace of disillusionment. He was eagerly willing to attach to someone, just like me. He had an open and forgiving heart. One day it’d be the death of him. I could tell.

His lips parted hesitantly, before succumbing to his truth.

“Still I know you, so I care about you, and you’re not okay.”

My head fell against his chest in defeat. He was only saying everything I wanted to hear but I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. I began to laugh. I began to lose myself. He was blind, I was even worse. What didn’t he get? The reality of me was pathetic.

“Yeah I’m not ok. I pop pills, I don’t care for my mom, I don’t go to my classes even though whining about getting an education, I’m stuck in this bum fuck town, hell I even snorted a fucking line of cocaine, I’m a mess I can barely keep my shit together, I don’t, I cling onto you, you shouldn’t give a shit about me. Why care about someone like me, Riki?”

I don’t know why I was getting aggressive with him for caring about me. I guess if it would end later once he realizes how pathetic I am it’d be better to wake him up now.

Riki’s hands played with my hair as my head remained against his chest, his words patient,

“Why would you do that to yourself?”

Oh.

I looked up at him, the tears in my eyes raw, coming down without restrain. His solemn gaze bore back into me.

What did I do any of it for?

I knew why I started but how I got here I don’t know.

“I don’t know.”

“Underneath your brain fog, you do.”

His hands lifted from my hair and back to cradle my face.

“Call your mom, tell her you’re ok, shower, eat, and explain all this to me.”

I nodded pushing myself up from his lap. On my way to the door I turned back around to Riki who was still on the bed.

“Riki, I don't wanna go home.”

He simply nodded at me and I accepted it.

[11MPH]

I’m alone in the kitchen, the phone rings for what feels like years before being picked up.

“Mama.”

I’m choked by the hand that isn’t there.

“Mama?”

She picked up but there's no words said, just shallow breaths on the other side of the line.

“Mama, I’m ok. I’m sorry mama.”

I know she doesn’t believe in “sorry.” Faith never told her to.

Perhaps it did. I didn’t read well. Instead let's accuse her heart, and ignore my obvious faults.

“I swear to God, if you ever come to my door it’ll be locked for you. I swear.”

“Mama, mama, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry means nothing, you wanna act like an adult? Go be one.”

“Mama.”

Her voice was rigid, cutting through my pleas sharp enough to pull blood through the phone.

“I have no daughter, no family, nothing.”

“But mama.”

The line buzzed. She had hung up. Hung up like I wasn’t gone for three days without a word now.

Are mothers usually forgiving? Is a mother the one you run to when you’re not okay? Did she even care?

Is the love for a child conditional?

I wanna know.

Truth is I already know. I know I’m an outlier. I know I mean less than nothing to my blood. And so my blood runs easily with no importance. If I was a better daughter would she hold onto me more - the same way I hold onto her?

How disgusting am I in her eyes?

Mama, why do you make me hold onto the care of strangers? Why can’t I have you like all the other kids?

If I died that night and Riki never nursed me back to health, would you even feel a thing?

My mind clung to desperation, I was driven to prayer from the emptiness my mother rooted in my heart, born from indifference, disappointment, and impatience. There has to be a saving grace. There has to be a hope. There has to be a dream like Riki says, and one that comes true.

I put my knees to the floor, hands to my chest, praying to God let these floorboards be my witness, the ceiling fan attest to the sight. Have the angels on my shoulders testify. Know that God sees all and God knows well, I’d be in a different place if every moment in life depended solely on my intentions. Let God know I fear him just as well as I know he is merciful. My soul is separate from my body and still both belong to God solely. Forgive me for my final sins. Forgive me God, for who I am, who I will be, and who I was. Help me God, to be forgiven by you, and see my sincerity that I know you see just as you do my weak mind.

I kneeled, forehead to the ground, until no pleas went without repetition, and no prayer went unsaid. Riki never walked in. Clinging to my skin to ground myself I realized there was no place for me to go and so I’d go to nowhere.

How many hours is Bonachita from Florida?

[12MPH]

Riki is an enigma. To every side of him you know there's one you don’t. The reason he's that way is hard to pinpoint. He never talked about himself much. He has money, drives an eccentric car, came from the West Coast, has dreams, but none of these explain his weak heart.

Fact is, no one clings quick like Riki does, it's just not normal. His family? I know he’s from Japan originally, but do you always have to blame family for the deficits in your character?

Riki isn’t normal but I understand him. He chases the fulfillment he never got a taste of. If he works hard he thinks something has to come from it, if he holds onto someone something has to come from it.

Riki, your problems are simple on the surface yet they strike a cord in you so complex you never quite understood how to sort through the feeling. As straightforward as a situation may be, what is within our minds never is. You’re not a book though, I can’t read inbetween the lines. I can’t fill in the gaps for unanswered questions.

Riki never had much to say about my mother’s fits, he never told me to confront if I had an addiction, he didn’t say the things you usually expect from someone.

Riki isn’t from the West Coast.

Riki cares but he isn’t honest.

Riki is lonely, because Riki doesn’t interact with people as expected.

Riki isn’t from Bonachita.

Riki lies to himself more than he’d ever lie to anyone else.

There's a blockage in his mind. There's a time in his life he can’t remember. There's things his brain can’t process.

That's why he responds with silence.

Or he just makes something up to have something to say..

Riki has a sweet soul. He’s just a little unstable.

But he holds it together really well, you wouldn’t even be able to tell. He doesn’t need to break down to show he’s reaching his limits. They’ve been passed but somehow his back is straight. He runs the race on unsteady feet. Still he's ahead of the rest.

Riki.

Riki, you lied.

Bonachita never existed.

[13MPH]

I had nothing to pack that day other than the schoolbag I carried around. I couldn’t go home to get any of my things and so I made due with what I had.

I decided I would just go. Even if I stuck around it wouldn’t make sense to burden Riki with my situation, even if he said he cared, he had no clue I got essentially disowned.

We never even actually talked about what he wanted to. I just took my things and left without a word, without him knowing.

It wasn’t rational, Riki was there with me through it all but in my clouded mind it was the only step I knew to take.

I decided I was going to visit Bonachita.

If I have money for valium I have money for a train ticket.

At the station I asked for a ticket to the closest city around Bonachita.

The man looked at me crazy so I thought maybe Bonachita wasn’t a known place but some kind of niche town.

It was my first time looking it up but nothing came up. Just links to ancestry.com and randoms with the very rare last name. No, directions, no map, no chance of misspelling, it simply didn’t exist. Bonachita wasn’t a city, a town, village, nothing.

But that would mean Riki lied?

I sat down on the station bench, holding onto cold cash.

Riki who seemed to be so upstanding, so stable, lied about where he came from?

What else did he lie about? Why even lie about something like that?

I stared off at the stone floors with endless questions running through my mind. It seemed so fast everything could just crumble. Even the things I held on to with a firm grip.

With my last pill of valium, random notebooks, a hairbrush, deodorant, only the clothes I had on, and loose bills in my hand, I booked a night at the nearby motel.

In the rough motel blankets there's no comfort, only the chilling cold that rises goosebumps to my skin from the blasting air conditioner. I closed my eyes and imagined the cold to be the sensation of Riki’s hands around me the day I was pulled out of the pool by him while flipping my pill bottle in my hands, the one lone pill making a dull sound as it rolled around. His memory was fond to me, I didn’t harbor any negative feelings towards him even when I found out he lied. It was almost comforting to know I wasn’t the only one losing it. Still the feeling of overwhelming isolation overtook any solace I could find. My tears that used to run easily were stifled, burning me from inside.

The weirdest thing of all.

I missed my mom.

When I was a kid, she’d put dove chocolates at the bottom of my cereal bowls. Whenever I’d unwrap them they’d have some message on the inside and then I’d pour the milk over and have breakfast. On Valentine's day she’d get me a gift. We used to go on walks around the middle school track on weekends and then get ice cream. I played the flute, and she’d come to concerts in elementary, even middle school. I miss that mom.

Towards the end of middle school her and my father fought over money a lot. The house would be tense for days when they wouldn’t talk or even be in the same room as one another. I found out my dad had a woman in North Carolina he took care of and took out large sums of money for. He was slowly planning to leave and never told my mom. My mom didn’t have anything except my dad. And me. She sacrificed a lot to start a family with him, thought there’d be an award for settling down along the line. Her own childhood was pretty bad, she brought a lot of her insecurities into her marriage. She didn’t know security. After dad left the fits she had toward him turned to me. It seemed all the leftover anger she had could only be let out at his daughter. The waste of flesh and blood that reflected no love. I was only a symbol of the tarnished sanctity of marriage. All the promises that went down the drain.

Initially her fits were small but they got worse over time. Verbal turned into physical. I don't know what I could've done but I always felt I should’ve done something.

She never realized I lost something too the day dad left.

I wonder what Riki lost to act how he does.

Does he think holding tight onto something means you won’t lose it?

Look at us, we're both foolish. Making me dream about the things I’ll never have, because he made it look so fulfilling, because he seemed so full of life.

I never felt as alive as I did when beside him. The speed of his car, the fragility of me fading away in his arms, his patience, his hope, his company, his touch.

Opening my eyes, I pressed open the bottle lid and swallowed the last valium pill.

It was too little dosage to do anything for me.

Now it was all over.

In the uncomfortable sheets I fell into a heavy sleep while running my hands down my arms in an attempt to mimic the way Riki once held me before.

That night I dreamt I got everything I wanted.

[14MPH]

The view from the motel window is desolate, roads and yellow grass. Only when I crack it open does the blur from the old window pane show the true colors. Every couple minutes cars drive up and down the street showing signs of life. My fingertip traced the thin film of dust on the edge of the windowsill, blowing it forward. I didn’t even know how many days of class I had missed at this point. I didn’t have the energy for school regardless. I settled into the motel as days passed and my money slowly ran low. I bought a new shirt and denim shorts. It was a white fitted tee, fresh in appearance compared to the room. I had thirty dollars left. It wasn’t enough for another night, not after the five I already spent. It’s weird I don’t have Riki’s phone number. Would I call him? Would he be in class right now? But it’d be weird to come to him just because I ran out of money.

He never judged me and when he found out my truth he stayed firm by my side. So I feel indebted to be there by him. It’s also that I never stopped wanting to be.

Is this an opportunity or an excuse?

Is his door open for me?

I can’t go back for the reason I left.

But I want to see him.

I lit a new cigarette and leaned my bare thighs against the wall. My head rested on the window and each drag was like a petting comfort to my lungs despite the reality. I recalled the beach, and how Riki’s lips wrapped around my cigarette once. I wondered how his lips would feel against me. Would it feel as good as his touch?

His sleepy lashes, rasped voice, wandering fingers, his cologne. I leaned deeper against the wall, sucking in deeply and hollowing my chest as if the cigarette was me inhaling him.

I have thirty dollars and a burning heat.

[15MPH]

On my sixth night I was back in the nearby train station, awake all night and confined to a bench. At one in the morning the station closed and I was left out to wander the sidewalks. Spring winds pushed me along and the cicadas chirped, filling the silence. It was scary to be out so late alone. I started thinking I could go to campus and spend the night pretending to study in the twenty-four hour section of the library and so I ordered a ride with half of the thirty dollars I had.

Street lights turned into blurs as the car sped up after I got in. The palm trees swayed, people walked in and out of diners or convenience stores, groups of teenagers walked the streets pushing along bicycles, neon open signs, everything was alive around me.

It was beautiful, this Florida Spring night.

So beautiful it seemed my feet walked me away from the library. I circled the lab building and went through the parking lots. In hills of grass I passed Old Main and ended up at the campus apartment complexes.

It was a garden style complex with exterior entrances. I could walk straight up to his door. I was at his door, with a hesitant hand and a pounding heart. It was two in the morning at this point. With a spur of impulsivity I knocked, twice.

[16MPH]

Truly, before now I never acknowledged how much taller Riki was. His pale face looked down at me, taut and hiding all expression once opening the door.

No words were exchanged between us.

His arms wrapped around me in a tight hug like it was the position we had always belonged in. I held onto him, his stature enveloping me entirely in the embrace. The faint sounds of his breath tickled my ear, all my senses opened up to him. We stumbled backwards into his apartment, my mind only able to perceive him. I didn’t even realize when he closed the door where we fell to the floor while his hand cradled the back of my head. Pulling back to look at one another I felt the need to consume him entirely. There was no chance I’d separate myself from my greatest desire in this moment where I held him so close. I’m under his trance.

I lifted my lips to his, causing warmth to shoot through my body. Riki kissed me back, only pulling me closer with desperation. His hands were a mess in my hair while my own gripped at his shirt and skin.I was surprised he kissed me back. We were never shy to touch one another but it was a line we didn’t cross until now. I pulled away to admire him in the thick silence only broken by our shallow breaths. His gaze on me was as if I was the most beautifully fragile thing he ever held. Riki softly brought his kiss back to my lips. We remained there on the floor for a moment, as if, in his mind, I would slip through his fingers and disappear into nothingness. Once I tugged on the waistband of his pants he lifted me up and, without ever parting his lips from mine for more than a second, pushed me towards the bedroom.

We fell backwards onto the bed, sheets strewn, his puffy, andalusite eyes meeting mine and reading through me. They were beautiful, like gems reflecting their own light onto me in the darkness of the night.

Riki’s hands brushed under the hem of my shirt, taking it off and letting it lay on the pillow above my head before kissing down my collarbone while unbuttoning my shorts to pull down the zipper. My own eager hands fumbled to remove his clothes, leaving only undergarments and skin against skin in an intoxicating heat. It was all in an overwhelming need we both felt to be closer.

He really looked like a man, the veins showing in his neck and arms, the hollow definition of his abs. I trailed my fingers up his abdomen until my hand fell flat under the pressure of his body coming down against mine, his nose nuzzled in my neck where he spoke the first words of the night.

“Why’d you leave?”

I pulled his face back by his hair that was now dyed back to a natural shade of black, something he must’ve done in the days I was gone. He was stubborn but eventually he faced me again.

I could only murmur apologies, no reasons.

His tears fell onto my own cheeks. The shimmer of his somber eyes laid soft kisses on my soul, my body nurtured by his touch. Every part of me was filled with the intense pleasure of being reunited. The feeling sent shivers down my spine despite the overwhelming heat within and burning through my skin.

The soft whine from his throat led me to cling tighter to his skin.

He bit mine, kissed and bit, nibbled and sucked. I was raw and numb with bliss.

His hand ran down my throat, past my sensitive chest, and to the bottom of my stomach where his fingertips toyed with the line of my underwear, dipping into the slick.

Working me up before going down on me, he placed his lips around my swollen clit and let out a deep moan. I was breathless at the new sensation.

He explored my body with a gentleness, oscillating between devotion and need that drove me to the edge. For a time my body lay there experiencing all the possibilities of his hands, lips, and tongue. There seemed to be not a single corner of my skin missed by the fervent affection.

I tugged on his hair until I called out his name and he dragged his body up, his arousal bumping against me.

My meek voice, torn with desire, begged for him.

I belong here in his arms

I exist between his legs

My heartbeat is fast but my mind is calm. Give me the sweet release.

I spread my arms open to completely be consumed by him inside me.

Adore me.

Cherish me.

Fill me.

In the late morning we woke up, his sleepy head resting on my chest. The sunlight slipped through the gaps in the curtain and highlighted the moles under his eyes to the one on his chin. I shook him awake and asked if he had class. He groggily responded no, but I knew he did. Shoving him to wake Riki finally got up and pulled on a random pair of pants to email his professors. I was still naked and pulled the covers over me, watching as he moved around the room. He threw a towel at me and told me to take a shower.

After we both had showered, Riki made a simple breakfast of fried eggs and toast. At the table I sat with my knees up against my chest, clad in only a borrowed oversized tee and shorts. I nibbled at the toast while Riki stood behind me and combed through my damp hair. Bending my neck back I interrupted his movements and looked up at him.

“You know why I left.”

He only moved his eyebrows to answer. Incapable of finishing my sentence while maintaining eye contact I looked down at the runny yolk of my egg.

“I was gonna go to Bonachita.”

Riki stopped brushing my hair.

“And”, he questioned.

“It doesn’t exist.”

He didn’t move an inch.

“Why’d you lie?”

“To give you an answer.”

“What do you mean?”

“There's some things, some months, that when I think back to, there's a blockage in my mind.”

His voice fell silent before he went back to combing through my hair and spoke up again.

“When I think about life before college my memories lead nowhere. I remember some of my childhood in Japan, I remember moving around alot after. I don’t remember any city. When I think about it a little too long I get uneasy, my head hurts, and I just don’t visit the memories again.

I couldn’t just say all that back then.”

I hummed to myself before answering.

“So you don’t even remember a thing.”

“Barely.”

“Have you ever gone to a doctor?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t wanna,” he mumbled.

I didn’t push him any farther with questions and asked him to eat with me. Riki obliged and broke into the yolk of his own egg with the no longer warm slice of toast.

“Do you still take pills?”

Shocked at the sudden questions, my eyes widened.

Coughing slightly I spoke,

“Not really, I ran out.”

Riki’s jaw flexed.

“You wouldn’t take them again though, right?”

I clicked my tongue in thought. There wasn’t a time since I started where I was sober for long. I had no idea what the withdrawal would be like, it’d be unwise to go cold turkey just as it’d be to continue.

I sat up on my knees and leaned in.

“I can’t go cold turkey, I’m gonna start getting withdrawal symptoms soon.”

Riki sighed deeply, “Why’d you ever start.”

“It doesn’t matter, I'll just wean off.”

“Ok ok, have you been home?”

I couldn’t help but laugh, it wasn’t that I found the question funny but I found the reality to come out like a sick joke.

“I got kicked out.”

“Last night?”

“No, like basically a week ago now.”

He ran his hands over his face, the truth of everything at once must’ve been too much to come up with a proper response.

He picked up the plates of our breakfast and took them to the kitchen sink, silently washing the dishes. I pushed my chair in to come up behind him and leaned my head on his shoulder.

“You know-”

Riki’s voice came out faint.

“You said you dreamt of dying in Bonachita.” The sponge made slow circles over the pan. I watched the water spiral down the drain.

“Mhm.”

“Did you want to die?”

I hate these kinds of questions.

“I wasn't thinking about death, I just had nowhere to go.”

“I was here.”

I kept my mouth shut.

Riki turned to face me, a slight aching in his eye.

“You’ll stay here for now with me though right?”

I kissed the tip of his nose and the mole on his chin lightly, promising that I’d stay, and not because I had nowhere else to go, but because this is where I longed to be. It would only be as long as he was here.

[17MPH]

May is approaching, the days only get hotter, longer, and in two weeks it’ll be time for finals. Kids whine and fuss in the halls of the science and technology building about their professors, the increasingly hard exams, or lack of sleep they’ve gotten. I spend weekends turning in coursework I already know won’t save me. I’ve long since let this semester go. Riki doesn’t like me going to parties, so I can’t get valium that way. I never cared for them much anyway. More time to study.. Instead I take smaller doses of valium each week that I buy off my friend. What I still do is smoke, but I do it outside the apartment.

One night, I came back into the apartment after a smoke. Riki crawled onto the bed and asked if on the first day of summer we could go to the beach.

I told him we can go wherever he’d like, but what made him want to go?

He claimed to have always liked the beach, he’s never been without it for long.

After two weeks I sat down for my matrices and modern physics exams, packed a bag, and drove up to Canaveral National Seashore about an hour and a half away with Riki. It's a beach with miles of untouched coastline, just white sands and barely a soul.

Our shoes left imprints on the long walk before Riki decided to stop by the shore. I held my sandals in my hands and let the water bump against my bare ankles. Riki stood rather than sitting. Looking at the expanse of water it seemed endless. If you get a boat and keep going eastward in the direction the ocean takes you, you’ll cross the Atlantic and possibly end up in the Moroccan Sahara. A stark contrast from where we sit now. The world is so pretty when you leave the confines of a town.

I looked up at Riki above me, but the sun shone down so hard his face became a blur of striking white.

I asked him to get in the water with me.

Both of us weren’t wearing appropriate clothes, still I ran into the water without waiting for his response, splashing around like a child and soaking the fabric of my short dress. It now stuck to me like a glove and revealed the outline of everything beneath. Riki laughed at me until I pulled him in. His own denim jeans, too hot for a summer like this, and cotton tee became heavy with saltwater.

We played in water for hours, jumping waves and pushing one another down. Only when the sun began to set did we swim back towards the shore.

With wet hair, drenched clothing, and arms intertwined we walked back to his car.

Our room was small—four walls, a bed, a closet, bathroom and a microwave. It was the best we could find at the last minute while being a close enough drive to the beach. That night on our way back I told Riki I wanted to get drunk, I’d never had alcohol before. I still had the fake ID from when I’d party with my campus friends. We’d go to Wawa before heading back to one of their dorms, but I never drank it. It was off putting since the bottles my mother would throw were often the beer she drank.

Tonight I’d pretend it never was.

We poured shots of liquor for one another throughout the night in dixie cups. At first a slight anxiety gnawed at me as I took sips. It felt like a rebellion against the firm boundary I had once set. If I wanted to live without carrying the baggage of all that had happened perhaps this was a step I could take. Each shot diluted my unease into a weightless glee. Every touch felt heightened, like a delirium of mind and body. I’m the only one new to this but Riki is just as gone leaving no space to be awkward. Laughing about nothing I straddled Riki on top of the bed, the cheap frame creaking with each movement. Still in our beach clothes, damp like our skin and hair, I lit a cigarette, the flame illuminating the dimness for the briefest second. Beneath me, Riki hooked his fingers under the straps of my dress, tugging them down with slow, deliberate movement. I leaned down, resting my chest on his collarbones, to pour the full cup in my right hand into his open mouth, while taking a drag of my cigarette with my left. His throat moved with each weak attempt to swallow. Most of the liquor dribbled down his chin and neck like a honeyed waterfall. I licked the stickiness from the contour of his adams apple to his full lips.

He kissed forward, the sweetly intoxicating flavor of him blending onto my tongue.

Throughout the night my phone rang, yet the sound became white noise while we continued drinking and kissing.

I feel the truth of my youth in his arms. If only my eyes could capture this moment in a polaroid and frame it as the scene that defines my young adult years and ignore everything else. All my poor decisions pour into one mass of pleasure and pain. The pleasure found in Riki can tune everything else out. I like the pink blush of his drunken cheeks. I like the way he traces my skin. Killing me with beauty, slowly, softly, sweetly. God, he is beautiful, sharp and angelic all at once. He slurs his words, saying I look pretty from this view. So I put a show on of slipping my underwear down my thighs before sitting back down onto the cold metal of his belt. Each divot in the detailing rubbed against my bottom uncomfortably. At my slight noise from pain Riki slid his hands beneath me to unbuckle his belt. The swift sounds of unclasping metal and falling leather echoed crisply. I tugged at the waistband of his heavy denim jeans, asking him if he felt hot. His hips lifted beneath me slightly, rubbing against my bare skin.

“Won’t you take it off for me?” His tone was boyish and seductive at once.

I obliged, pulling the zipper, making Riki smile devilishly, the messy bangs on his forehead shadowing his blackened eyes. His bulge was prominent against the seams of his boxers. The cigarette I held between my teeth had to be placed elsewhere so I flipped it around to fit lazily between Riki’s plush lips, the perfect adornment. I could only smile at the sight of him a mess beneath me before pulling down his boxers to reveal the reddened tip of his frustrated cock. Holding the base in my hand I licked a stripe upwards with a lack of experience nor the coordination I’d have sober. The taste was unfamiliar, almost nothing, but slightly salty. Once I took him in it was suffocating. Breathing through my nose, the deeper he hit my throat the more difficult it became. The smell of my own saliva mixed with the musk. I began to gag but Riki only pushed my head down further as he moaned mellifluously. The sound itself left an ache in my core, I couldn’t help but be turned on further. When his breaths stuttered I pulled off, leaving him leaking and close to coming. His whines filled my ears like music. Taking the cigarette back from him, almost at its end I inhaled and positioned myself to sit back on him, flush against the heat of his groin slick with my saliva and his own precum. I could only tease him a moment longer before my own patience ran thin.

With everything off but my dress, I lifted to let him in. Once Riki bottomed out, pleasure shot through me like waves in the drunk haze. I shoved his shirt as high as possible to flick the ash of my dwindling cigarette onto his nipples, causing him to let out his own moans louder than before, mixing with mine.

The smell of sex filled the air of the tiny space, Riki’s eyes rolled back as he climaxed. Pulling out after coming down his slender fingers rubbed against my entrance before slipping in and working in and out against my inner walls, repeatedly hitting the most pleasurable spot as he easily became accustomed to my body. His movements became messier as he ran out of energy, yet I found myself chasing his fingers. I started to feel sick with desire. I was left panting, the pathetic butt of the cigarette extinguishing on Riki’s skin as I fell over onto him. In that same position I fell asleep, cushioned by his firm body. While my mind faded into slumber I could vaguely make out Riki’s mumbling.

“Is this enough for you to stay?”

Little does he know we’re bound by an unbreakable string of fate.

[18MPH]

The hangover is like a freight train running back and forth on tracks made of my neurons. God, it hurts. With an aching body I reached over to the floor to pick up my phone. I had ten missed calls, two messages, all from my dad. Immediately my heart sank, I hadn't talked to my dad in over two months. He says hi, I say hello, he makes me say hi to his wife, he hangs up, I cry. That's how it usually goes.

His first message was “Why don’t you pick up?”

the second read, “Your mom texted me.”

I knew he was going to say something I didn’t want to hear.

Right when I was going to turn off my phone the screen lit up with a call from him.

I stared at the vibrating screen causing Riki to turn in his sleep and stare at me quietly with an expression devoid of readable emotion.

My head throbbed, I just wanted to curl up in my sheets and ignore everything. Still, I accepted the call to be greeted by a familiarly distant voice.

“Why didn’t you pick up before?”

What excuse would ever satisfy a man like this.

“I was asleep, it’s summer break.”

“Well, your mom talked to me, she said you haven’t come home.”

“Well she kicked me out.”

“She told me about how you’ve been acting out, but just because she says things when she's angry doesn’t mean its true.”

“....” “She wants you to come live with me.”

“In Carolina?”

“Where have you been staying anyway?”

I lied straight through my teeth.

“Hotels, motels.”

“With what money?”

“I worked in the summers, you know?”

“Whatever, I’m busy so I’ll pick you up next week.”

He hung up like that, not asking me any more questions. Whether I was ok didn’t seem to matter, the nuisance just needed to be handled.

I fell back onto the bed, the call only worsening my headache.

“You’re gonna leave?” Riki murmured.

I could only shrug. If my dads wife didn’t want me at the house, no way in hell he’d take me in. I was an adult he wasn’t obliged to. But I guess a daughter on the streets looks bad.

It wasn’t like I could live with Riki forever anyway. Everything comes to an end eventually.

“Let's stay another night.” His eyes held an emotion I hadn’t yet seen him express before.

I felt his fingers snake around my wrist in a firm embrace.

“Let’s stay another night.”

Who am I to say no to a face like that, especially when I never wanted to leave in the first place.

Riki started to shake my wrist back and forth like a child, his voice bordering whiny.

“I’ll take you for a drive again, I promise.”

Does he not see he can pull the strings on my back as he likes. Isn’t that a pathetic reality. I don’t care. His will is mine.

“Ok, let's stay another night.”

His grip finally relaxed, his face still half pressed against the pillow. He was speaking with the mind of someone only halfway awake. Still as we sat there his eyes remained trained on me.

“Riki, what are you thinking?”

“About what you’re thinking.”

Internally I sighed,

“I think we should take a bath.”

In response Riki stood up and trudged to the bathroom, leaving the door open, letting me watch him fill the bathtub.

While the water loudly pattered against the enamel Riki lifted me up out of bed, letting the soiled dress fully slip down my body.

The warmth even in the summer was soothing to my hungover body. I sat on my legs facing Riki who was still outside the tub, lathering shampoo between his hands to wash my hair with. The massage on my scalp worked away the tension slowly. Watching his focused expression I was even more at ease.

“Tell me something.”

His eyes shifted onto mine.

“Like what?”

“Everything I don’t know.”

“I got a new piercing.” I leaned in, bumping against the edge of the bath to look at his ears.

“Which? I can’t tell which is new.”

“I got a double helix, it used to only be one.”

He pushed his hair back with the knuckles of his hand to show the reddened cartilage of his right ear.

“When’d you get it, it must be a pain to heal”

“About like three to four weeks ago.”

That was when I was at the motel.

“You changed a lot in a short time.”

Riki tilted his chin up, shaking the suds in my hair

“What do you mean?”

“Well you used to be blond.”

“Did you like the blond?”

“I liked it all. But why’d you go back to black?”

“I wanted to do something to my appearance.”

I faintly touched the stray strands of his hair with my wet hands.

“In a month you’ll be a whole nother person.”

Riki let out a childish laugh, his genuine smile breaking through. Yet a part of me wasn’t joking.

“What if I can’t recognize you/”

“I’ll always be the same though.”

I looked down at the curve of his shoulders while he spoke.

“I’ll walk the same, speak the same, fidget the same, at the core all the same.”

His hands left my scalp and ran over the scar tissue of the old cut I got on my collarbone so long ago.

I fell against his shoulder, damping him with shampoo and water.

My blond angel is a black haired boy.

[19MPH]

The sun is strong in the evening but rain is forecasted.

In the daytime there are more people coming to the beach than in the past day. A lot of fishers, a good amount of families. The heat in the sand burns the soles of my feet without shoes, so Riki offers to take a drive instead. The loud and familiar engine of Riki’s mustang was like a healing purr as it came to life. As we coast through the first few streets, marshes blur into sleepy houses, and eventually, we’re on real roads. I ask Riki how fast his car can go. He says 157 miles per hour. I ask him where he can go at that speed.

“Basically nowhere.”

When we end up on a rural road I ask him to try it, go a little faster.

As soon as he presses his foot on the accelerator the car jumps from forty to eighty. I feel the speed push me against the car seat, and he only goes faster, shifting gears and teetering around 100 to 120. The exhaust begins to get louder, wind thrashes making my vision turn into a blur of melting landscapes and stray hair.

Riki’s hands stay firm on the wheel. My instinct is to scream, not from fear — from joy. It’s like a roller coaster with no track. At 140, we’re flirting with death.

I found myself thinking this would be a beautiful way to die.

Every twitch of the wheel is a whisper between life and disaster. Down the slightest hills, the car surges faster. But Riki holds it steady. When he finally brakes, it’s smooth — a gradual pull, a careful downshift.. By the time we stop, my heart could fly straight out of my chest. The adrenaline is unbearable, delicious, and then it all spills over. All the adrenaline went to my head and laughter burst through both our lungs at the crudely selfish stunt we pulled.

Riki circles back to the seashore and we walk down onto the coastline, clouded by the soon coming rains.

Times like this we don’t exchange many words. We simply bathe in the moment. Soft winds, grey skies, and ocean scape. His hair is much more tousled than any other day, I stare at it as I watch the back of his head with each step.

Rain begins to slowly pour onto our shoulders, a pitter patter every other minute. At the same moment my phone buzzes from my pocket, the vibration distant. Riki looks back at me but I ignore whatever the call is and continue to look ahead at him. Soon he stops in his tracks and drops to sit on the sand. I look down at him in confusion. He tells me he has no pictures of me. I say I don’t like pictures. He says he wants something to remember me by. I say I’m right here.

Looking like teenage dreams in the grains of white sand his eyes reflected all of my own fears. And all my compassion.

“Are you not leaving?”

Why doesn’t he look at me as if I’m disgusting? It'll make this easier.

I still stand looking down at him.

“So what if I go to Carolina?”

“You won’t go to college here anymore will you.”

“I was going to take a gap year regardless.”

“But when would I see you again?”

I remained quiet.

“So you don’t care if we don’t see eachother again?”

“Of course I do.” I was turning pathetic, my voice cracked.

Riki’s yearning eyes looked up at me, a million desires, a thousand questions, and not a single resolve given.

“You could just stay with me.”

“You know that's not possible.”

“Why not?”

I raked my hands through my hair in frustration.

“I can’t leech off of you like that.”

His own voice became strained,

“But you're not. I want you to stay with me. How is that leeching?”

A scoff came from his throat.

“What's the point of living with someone who doesn’t care about you when you could live with someone who does?”

“Why do you care about me anyway?”

Distress shot over his expression for a mere second. I continued to say all the wrong words.

“Because you didn’t need to know everything about me to understand me. Because I’m not all that I went through, I’m my character and you came back even after you found out the truth because of that. Didn’t you?”

I fell to my knees, only inches away from Riki and wrapped my arms tight around the broadness of his shoulders, my face directed towards all that was behind him.

“I’m gonna pack my bag, get in his car, go to North Carolina, and I’ll miss you.”

“No.” His voice was annealed glass.

My teardrops watered the slope of his back, blending in with the light rainfall.

His hands clung onto me as if he’d have no will to live otherwise.

“Just tell me what you want, you can have it. If you want me you can have me. If you have a dream I’ll fulfill it. What do you really want?”His tone shifted between tenderness and possessiveness.

I thought the wise thing to do was rely on a parent instead of someone my age, equally as unstable. I thought I’d go with my dad and live fine with the memories of him. What if he didn’t always want me next to him? Then where would I go if I had turned down my dad’s offer. How do I know his eyes will always look at me with such a devoted expression? How do I know he’s entirely mine?

“I want you to take me to Bonachita.”

[157MPH]

He watches me get ready in the mirror.

My hair is neat, my dress is short, and my lashes curled. Even with less makeup than I used to wear, I feel pretty.

Every curtain is open, all windows let in the cool morning breeze. Dew is clinging on to each blade of grass and slipping from low hanging leaves due to last night's rain. Everything catches light but there's a film of hazy fog. Nature is lush and alive.

When I get up, so does Riki. There's coffee on the table, this is his apartment. He lives here even in the summer because it doesn’t belong to the university. Yet these apartments are majority owned by students and only a couple minutes from campus so it feels like the semester never ended. We came back last night. On the drive back we could catch glimpses of the launchpads. On one side was the Atlantic and the other the Indian River. The salty smell of ocean water permeated through the air, a nostalgic scent. We went south down the A1A. Light filtered through the spanish mosses and oaks of Titusville, Melbourne, and Sebastian. Each town was distinct despite being so close. When we reached home we immediately fell asleep.

Now I’m sipping on bitter coffee. I can’t tell if I like the taste or not but I continue to drink. Riki tells me to listen to the birds chirping outside. It’s the perfect song to play in the background of this morning. I say it reminds me of when I was kid, the last days of school having breakfast at the round wooden table in front of the window that let in the sounds of nature, open for the first time in months because of the incoming summer. He says when he was young he dreamt of being a race car driver. He watched Trans-Am, Formula 1, NASCAR, all of it. And he dreamt, that’s not a lie.

I asked him if he ever tried. He said it takes a lot of training that he never got close to doing. So he took that dream and polished it into mechanical engineering. I admire him. I tell him so.

Riki’s not good at taking compliments, he smiles like a fool, like an angel. His boxy smile showing his teeth.

In another life maybe he drives around a track, fast and fulfilled. If only he could have everything he wanted and I could be the one who gives it to him. I keep that to myself. Instead I attempt to light a cigarette but I can’t find my lighter. Riki gets one from the kitchen before standing in front of me, flicking the flame to life and setting both my lungs and heart afire. I’d rather kiss him than smoke. I wrap an arm around the nape of his neck and bring him down to me. My cigarette is looming over the floor in my other hand, accumulating ash. I kiss against his pouty lips into bliss. The taste of coffee lingers on both of our tongues. The bitterness imitates the sweet taste of love. I want to believe that this is a form of love crafted especially for people like us. Even if I can’t have something pure and sweet, I’m allowed at least the bitterness that faintly mimics its taste. I ask Riki what he wants most at this moment. He leaves the faintest kiss on my lips before saying

“Nothing.”

I see all my suppressed dreams from the past years reflect in his eyes, and I let them pass on.

The coffee pot half full remains and we get into his car, the leather of the seats is hot from drowning in sunlight. I feel it against my skin, cauterizing already healed wounds. The windows are down, we drive slowly throughout town as the wind cools us down. At one point we nearly pass my mom’s house but narrowly get on a different avenue. There's kids on the street playing ball, running around, and falling. There was a time when we were that age. Riki hums while taking a turn and for a second I wonder what he was like as a child. His smile must’ve been the same back then. There are some things that just don’t change even when everything else does. His eyes are on the road and my eyes are on his face. The streets are now lined with trees rather than houses. There’s a bridge arching above the road a couple miles away. It’s made of limestone, the kind of bridge people cross over, but today its empty.

Riki is no longer looking at the road, his gaze is solely on me. He asks if I still want to go to Bonachita.

The fact is I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to go to my dad’s house. But I know I can’t keep running. In all honesty, I absolutely adore Riki. But things catch up. The feet are fast but reality is quicker. To never move forward is to die and to go on is to endure the greatest pain yet. I feel absolutely terrible.

So I bundle all my joys and give it an address.

Bonachita.

Riki has glossy eyes at my nod of confirmation. I see in my peripheral his foot go against the accelerator harshly, and he shifts gears.

Forty, fifty, ninety, a hundred,

one-fifty-seven.

I can’t process a thing as the bridge becomes imminently closer.

Yet I know, in a world that forsakes forgiveness, where the mistakes you make are the most defining moments, he cherished me as if I wasn’t made less than by all I’ve done.

I really like to be human in the eyes of another.

Maybe in another life, this is his race car, and Riki just got first place.

Everything jerked sideways. Only the stone of the bridge filled my sight sporadically alongside the profile of Riki’s face. A loud crunch of metal echoed with the shattering of glass. I feel the seatbelt holding me back as my chest tightens. We both lurched forward, adrenaline resounding throughout my entire body. This sound is the cadence of death. My body is weightless, I flow with the pressure. There's no way to prepare for how reality warps.

This final blow lands us in the infinite peace of Bonachita. My pretty, curated, illusion.

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lovesick-desires · 3 months ago

Text

SUBTERFUGE

YANDERE!SILCO X MAGE!READER — CHAPTER TWO

��‎‎‎PREVIOUS CHAPTER ⇠ ✩ ⇢ NEXT CHAPTER (COMING SOON)

ABSTRACT: After taking in the mage to perfect Shimmer for him, Silco starts to feel drawn to their mystical allure. Not in a good way. CONTENT WARNINGS: light yandere behavior, intimidation/coercion, swearing, drug use, utilization of witchcraft, manipulation, mentions of drug dealing, sensual touching(?) TAGS: gender neutral reader, no mentions of "y/n", no descriptors of reader/(y/n) , witchcraft in the fic uses actual witchcraft elements from real life with their real benefits (crystal chips, wax, herbs, etc...) not just the fantasy version of witchcraft, Silco gets flirty, semi-proofread, slowburn yandere (it will ramp up next chapter dw dw) (N)SFW?: SFW WORD COUNT: 3.2k+ SILCO’S YANDERE ARCHETYPE: possessive, manipulative

Shadows danced across the rustic brick walls as you two ventured out of the boutique, making sure you actually lock the door this time as you exited. As you turned the key, your gaze flickered up to the sign that hung over the shop's entrance, still flipped to closed.

"Your shop is quaint, yet pleasant," Silco declared, adjusting the sanguine collar of his trenchcoat. You let a soft sigh escape your lips as you turn to face the man behind you.

"Where are we going anyways?" You queried, sliding your hands into your pockets. Your question derived a slight smirk across his scarred lips.

"You will see, mage. Now, come, I will lead you there." Silco explained, gesturing with his hand for you to follow, the smoldering tip of his cigar dancing in the moonlight from the movement of his lips.

The two of you ventured through The Lanes under the endless expanse of the velvety night sky, speckled with stars and constellations while the full moon hung in all her glory before you two. The Eye of Zaun's form lingered ahead, basking in the gilded halos of the flickering street lamps. He walked with a swaggering confidence, yet he seemed to glance back every once in a while to make sure you were still following. Not like you could get far if you tried to make a break for it anyways: you knew he would find you again anyways. Silco has eyes everywhere, as if he was all-seeing.

Eventually, you two approached The Last Drop, Silco's main base of operations. You could hear the nightly chatter and drunken slurs from the townspeople wandering about. It was a wonder they weren't all passed out drunk at this hour. However, you could see eyes fall on you and Silco, making you subconsciously pull your hood closer to obscure more of your face. You felt your gaze drawn up to see the once friendly, circular sign from when Vander ran the establishment now surrounded by sickly green neon lights surrounding it, giving the illusion of an eye. Its once warm and welcoming steampunk charm was now diminished to a flickering neon husk, barely encapsulating onto its former grandeur amid the drug-induced decay of the Undercity. Its colossal size loomed over all denizens that crossed its path, the neon eye seemingly watching all.

You were jolted out of your concentration on the building as you felt Silco's bony yet firm hand grasp your wrist, slightly calloused from years of labor.

"Come now, no time to stand and stare." Silco derided, pulling you along to the large yet lopsided double doors of the bar. Two bouncers were posted at each side of the doors, their broad shoulders nearly eclipsing the doors entirely. Their suits stretched over their muscular, hulking frames, giving them an air of power and authority. Their faces were stern yet their eyes held a glint of recognition at the sight of their boss. They exchanged a knowing glance before moving synchronously, their hulking forms shifting to the sides of the doorway. The two simultaneously pushed the heavy doors open with impressive ease, the door croaking slightly at its hinges.

Silco began to lead you through the grand double doors, his hand still taut around your wrist. Your gaze flickered up to one of the bouncers, his thick brows knitted into a slight scowl as he met your gaze.

"Thanks..." You muttered out, trying to ease the palpable tension. To this, the bulky bouncer scoffed and rolled his eyes. Witnessing this, Silco halted in his tracks, his harsh glare zoning in on the bouncer.

"Watch it." The Eye of Zaun hissed, his heterochromatic eyes narrowing as they pierced the man twice his size. The bouncer froze, his muscles tensing as he gave a stiff, albeit reluctant nod. Silco scoffed at this before walking through the double doors, keeping you close behind with his grasp.

You joined Silco inside The Last Drop, gazing around at the changes since you were last here. What once was lit up by Vander’s warm, gilded lanterns now was illuminated by harsh neon lights and signs, casting an unwelcoming glow over the interior that had once felt like it was flourishing with a familial warmth. The stench of booze and other illicit substances assaulted the air, making you internally recoil. Undercity denizens were amuck, some sitting at the bar cracking salacious jokes while others burst out in laughter much too loudly. Others were in booths, gambling away their hole-ridden cogs and washers with shitty card games. Some were shooting up Shimmer in the corners, injecting the putrid yet vibrant substance into their veins for a quick buzz. All of the voices was topped off by the boisterous club music that in the background, nearly making the establishment too loud to even think in.

Silco tugged you along toward the back of the establishment, where a wooden door, weathered by time, stood before you. The Eye of Zaun took the cigar out of his mouth before smothering it in a near by ash tray, letting the smoldering tip die out into a gray whisper. Silco wrapped his long, bony fingers around the metal handle, pulling it open for you to step inside. With slight reluctance in your step, you entered the backroom, unsure of what awaited you inside. Silco followed close behind like a shadow, shutting the door to seal you both inside.

Before you stood a long corridor, lined with various doors. and other hallways. With his hand still wrapped around your wrist, Silco led you through the labyrinth of corridors and the occasional staircase, each turn morphing together in the dim, flickering light. The air was thick with the scent of damp wood and old cigar smoke. The faint murmur of distant voices echoed through the walls from the bar, the muffled rave music still going on. Eventually, the noises faded as you two walked down to a door at the end of a corridor.

"We're here." Silco stated matter-of-factly, turning the doorknob before pushing the slab of wood forward, letting its hinges groaned with old age.

Before you was a cozy, circular room, its domed ceiling haphazardly reinforced with interlocking copper beams, aged with time and streaked with veins and patches of cyan patina. The warm glow of a tarnished gas lamp flickered against the cornsilk-colored walls, basking the room in its gilded, welcoming light. At the heart of the room was an umber circular rug with short spindles of yarn prodding upwards. Ivy had grown attached to the walls and infrastructure of the room, winding around the room all from the large, circular window that looked out upon the Undercity in its nightly glory, lit up by the neon signs and flickering lampposts. Opaque sage curtains were pinned to each side, pulled back to reveal the scenery. Nestled in the side was a curved hardwood desk perfectly aligned with the wall, most likely premade with this room in mind. A swivel chair stood before it, ready for the next intelligent mind to take a seat. Various curved bookshelves nestled against most of the wall space, lining the room with books on magic: tomes far beyond what you could ever possibly afford in your wildest dreams.

"Like it?" Silco questioned, approaching from behind you. His deep voice oddly harbored slight intrigue, as if he genuinely cared.

"Yes, it is very nice." You replied, your fingers tracing the bookshelf to find not a speck of dust. To this, a lopsided grin pulled at Silco's lips.

"Perfect, glad you agree." He crooned, walking towards the desk and pulling out one of its many drawers. "This desk will hold the surplus of what I believe you will need for this expedition while you are here." Silco added, gesturing to the open drawer. You peeked inside to find jars upon jars of crystal chips and dust alphabetically organized in perfect rows. Gently, you plucked one of the top jars to admire the amethyst crystal chips within, their purple pieces sparkling in the gas lamp's gilded glow. This was nothing like the crystals you harvested from when you snuck into the Undercity caves, this was top-tier quality for crystals, especially in a place like the Undercity.

"Where did you get these crystals?" You questioned, secretly hoping the answer was somewhat morally sound.

"Hm? Ah, the crystal chips. Well, you see, I talked to some crystal collectors from Piltover in order to get the highest quality. Only the best should be used in this experiment of ours." Silco explained, tilting his head slightly at you. You knew firsthand the value of Piltover's crystals, which meant the drawer before you held a small fortune.

"Wow..." You uttered subconsciously, admiring the crystal quality before nestling the bottle back into its previous slot. This elicited a soft, raspy chuckle from the drug lord beside you, shutting the drawer gently.

"I am glad you appreciate my efforts." Silco teased, his deep tone which fostered an odd intonation of satisfaction. "That draw contains your crystals, this one contains your herbs, this one contains your candles as well as your oils, and this one contains your jars and parchment. If you need anything else, please inform me." Silco explained, gesturing to each drawer in order. You nodded to yourself, committing the organization of equipment to memory. With most being so skeptical to witchcraft of your kind, it seemed like Silco did his research on your craft. You gently searched through each drawer, seeing the surplus of items provided, more than you most likely would ever need.

"This... This is plenty. Thank you, sir—"

"No need for formalities, darling. You may call me by my name." Silco interjected, staring at you expectantly. Feeling the palpable tension, you swallowed thickly as you looked up into his eyes.

"S-Sorry, Silco." You muttered, your gaze flickering away from him slightly. The Eye of Zaun's lips spread across his face in a crooked smile, pleased with your submission to his whims.

"Good, good." Silco rasped, his voice rumbling softly in his larynx. The druglord swaggered across the hardwood floors as he made his way towards the door.

"There is a guest room down the hall so you can stay here for efficiency, first door on the left. You can still man your shop during the hours of the day, but once you close, you can come here to work on our project." Silco explained, reaching for the doorknob. His lithe yet calloused hand stopped just short of the knob, his gaze shifting back to meet yours. "I will check on your progress and expect reports on your findings. There are vials of Shimmer in the cabinet in the back. If you need any assistance, inform me during our meetings." He added, waiting for your reply. To this, you subconsciously nodded, giving a hum of confirmation. The Eye of Zaun, nodded back before reluctantly taking his leave, seeming to linger for just a moment too long.

Various pieces of parchment were dappled around the laboratory, all adorned with written possibilities of how to perfect Shimmer. Candlelight illuminated the space as the aroma of peppermint wax filled your nostrils. Glass vials lined the cluttered desk, some still swirling with the iridescent, unstable mixture of your attempts to perfect Shimmer. The faint scratch of a pen echoed through the chamber as your tired fingers scrawled yet another hypothesis onto the aged parchment. Shadows wandered along the pale walls, flickering with each tremor of the dancing candlelight. The air was thick, not just with the scent of peppermint wax, but with the weight of the possibility of perfection. Every formula, every failed attempt, brought you one step closer to completion of the serum.

Your eyes that were aching with exhaustion glazed across the table, looking at the bushel of dried rosemary tied up with tan twine at the base. Rosemary: an herb of purification was the only item working so far. What else could be used for purification? Chamomile? White sage? Bay leaf? No, no, you tried those already. What about crystals? Selenite would be a good option— Wait, no, Selenite is toxic and cannot be consumed, especially in high qualities.

Possibilities played in your mind on repeat, swirling and ebbing in your brain as you opened the crystal draw besides you. Your gaze flickered around before reach for the clear quartz dust bottle as you think of its benefits: clarity, amplification, healing— It was possible what you needed. With your hand exasperated from writing so much, you grasped a vial of Shimmer that already had rosemary in it. Rosemary already had anti-inflammatory purposes, so that should decrease the growths and tumors that came in the sample before. If amplified by the properties of clear quartz, which also had purification and clarity qualities...

It could work.

With a shaky hand, you poured a small amount of clear quartz dust into the vial of altered Shimmer, watching the clear particles of crystal make ripples in the drug's surface. The hue of the elixir shifted to more of a pink hue than its previous vibrant purple, the first physical change you found in the week you've been pouring yourself on this.

"Found something?" The voice of the Eye of Zaun spoke up, his presence seemingly coming out of nowhere which caused you to physically jump in surprise. Your heart lurched as the vial nearly slipped from your delicate grasp, but you steadied it just in time, clutching it tightly in your overexerted fingers. You turned to face him, your pulse still hammering in your ears from the shock of his appearance.

Silco took a stride forward, the heels of his boots clicking softly against the hardwood. His eyes flickered between you and the vial in your hand, intrigue shadowing his sharp features. He did not need to repeat his question as his presence alone demanded an answer.

"I... believe so," you muttered, your voice shaking with slight doubt. "The properties of clear quartz, you see, they amplify. If my theory is correct, this could refine the Shimmer: make it more stable, maybe even lessen the growths people get as a side effect." You spoke, staring at the elixir as you watched the crystal particles dissipate into the mixture. Silco hummed at this before picking up a stack of the parchment beside you. With his thumb, he gently bent the stack at the bottom edge, letting it form into a curved shape. Sticking the stack under your chin, he turned your face to meet his gaze as he stared intensely down at you.

"Ah, ah, ah. Eyes on me when you are speaking, darling. I don't like it when you mutter. It makes it harder to hear you." Silco rasped, leaning closer to you. Your breathing hitched as the drug lord got closer, your noses nearly touching. "Annunciate for me, will you?" He continued, using the stack of parchment to raise your chin slightly higher.

The tension between you two was palpable. You could feel the heat from Silco's breaths on your face, the scent of cigar smoke lingering from his lips. You swallowed thickly before nodding.

"Sorry, sir- Silco." You spoke softly, eliciting a smooth, deep chuckle from The Eye of Zaun.

"Good." Silco rasped before pulling away, gently swiping the pink Shimmer elixir from your hand with a surprisingly gently touch. "I will look into the possible results of this combination. I will keep in touch with these findings." Silco continued before pulling a drawstring pouch out of his pocket before dropping it on the desk, the contents inside clinking with the impact.

With mild reluctance, you nervously opened the leather pouch only to be greeted with an excess of holeless coins: a luxury in the Undercity. Your eyes widened in shock as you looked up at the drug lord standing besides you who smirked softly.

"I told you that you would compensated for your time." Silco reminded, his tone alluring yet encapsulating an edge of something incomprehensible.

With hesitant fingers, you sifted through the coins, their smooth, untarnished surfaces gleaming even under the dim candlelight. This was more wealth than most denizens of the Undercity would see in an entire lifetime. Your heart pounded against your ribs, torn between gratitude and the gnawing unease settling in your gut.

"This is… more than I expected," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Silco hummed, his digits idly tapping again the hardwood desk. "Your talent is a priceless asset," he mused, his gaze locked onto yours with such an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. "And I always pay what is owed to diligent workers such as yourself."

You swallowed thickly, unsure whether his words were a reassurance or something else. The weight of the pouch in your hands felt somewhat unwieldy now. It was no longer just coins but a silent contract, connecting you to the enhancement of Shimmer.

Nonetheless, you nodded as your fingers tightening around the leather.

"I appreciate it," you muttered, though the words felt strange on your tongue.

Silco's lips curled into a lopsided smirk, his eyes gleaming with something unreadable. His hand landed on your shoulder, his grasp tender yet firm.

"Good. If this concoction works, expect more of our experiments to come." he drawled, stepping past you with a slow yet purposeful grace. "You are free to leave for now. I will reach out to you again after testing of this serum is complete. Expect my company soon, understand?" Silco questioned, his gaze linking to yours.

Due to his words, you nodded as you held back a lump of worry in your throat. What if the serum didn't work? What would happen to you? You swallowed your fears as you rose from your chair, grabbing your satchel from the floor. As you adjusted yourself, you stuffed the pouch in the satchel, burying it under your other belongings to hide it just in case.

As you turned to leave, Silco’s voice made you freeze in your tracks.

“Oh, and one more thing,” he rasped, taking a slow step closer to your form. The dim glow of the candles flickered against the sharp angles of his face. “Be discreet about our experiments.”

You nodded, gripping the strap of your satchel with a tight fist. It wasn’t as if you needed the warning. The possibility of word spreading that you were experimenting with Shimmer could bring unwanted attention and problems from the wrong people.

Silco appeared to be satisfied with your silence. His eyes lingered on your form for a moment longer before he turned, retrieving a cigar from his coat pocket and lighting it with a slow inhale. The smoldering tip glowed between his fingers as he exhaled a thick cloud of smoke. “I will be in touch.”

Without another word, you slipped out the doorway of the laboratory and quickly made your way out of The Last Drop, the air outside feeling more refreshing than before. The muffled cacophony of The Last Drop enveloped you again, though it soon became far away as your made your strides to your humble abode.

As you walked beneath the looming midnight sky where a third quarter moon hung high, your thoughts blurred with anxiety and uncertainty. The money, the experiment, Silco’s unnerving interest. It was all too much, too sudden. Yet, you knew there was no turning back now.

The cobblestone streets of Zaun stretched before you, illuminated by flickering neon and the soft halos of the streetlights.

Whether you liked it or not, Silco would be watching as he was The Eye of Zaun for a reason.

SONG OF THE FIC: RULE #34 - FISH IN A BIRDCAGE

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venussaidso · 1 year ago

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Ketu Dominant Themes — 𝐍𝐚𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 (part 1) 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝟑

disclaimer: spoilers for all movies or shows mentioned.

the warnings: mentions of drug abuse, sexual violence, self-harm, genocide, mental disorders/illnesses, cannibalism and self amputation.

The most interesting theme within all the Ketu nakshatras is one that is unexpected, as Ketu is commonly associated with concepts of disconnection or isolation from society as a whole — given its frequent link to the 12th house. However, it is more about the interactions with the unseen forces within society than anything else. The 12th house also represents the collective consciousness and all the interconnected energies that come with it, which we all become deeply influenced by. Ashwini is the most sensitive Ketu nakshatra, as it is easily consumes and absorbs by these 12th house energies through the native, often leading to chaos and loneliness.

Ashwini Nakshatra embodies nothingness, the oldest energy in the universe. It exists in the space before actualized creation and after the rise of awareness that emerges from nothingness (or the cosmic void). It is very fitting that this is the first nakshatra, but it should also be considered the last Ketu nakshatra. The focus here is on the spirit's evolution. The energy found in this nakshatra is as undeveloped as it is chaotic, which is why evolution needs to take place — and this usually involves extremely harsh forces to tame it. In Ashwini, there is confusion or a lack of self-awareness regarding one's own identity. I am going to use some films as examples to explore this point.

First, I'll use the most typical Ketu-coded character; Ashwini Moon Christian Bale's Patrick Bateman in American Psycho. This film follows an investment banker who revels in the wealthy excesses of his superficial lifestyle, surrounded by others who do the same. His life is empty, mostly revolving around getting into exclusive restaurants, indulging in designer suits, and maintaining a meticulous morning routine. There is a general pressure to conform, and the Ashwini native is highly sensitive to these societal energies, which they absorb — driving them to compete and, eventually, to go too far. For Patrick Bateman, it’s no longer about conformity; it becomes an obsession, and these pressures push him into homicidal tendencies as an outlet. This film perfectly encapsulates modern-day consumerism, and it is, of course, an Ashwini native who descends into madness as a result of the empty, superficial yuppie culture he is subjected to.

Nothing can fill the emptiness inside him, and he knows it. This crippling, painful awareness continuously fuels his violent self-hatred and his hatred toward others. This is why he remains trapped in a cycle of loneliness, surrounded by the same narcissistic, self-absorbed individuals who perpetuate this soulless culture.

The movie was adapted from the book with the same name, written by Mula Moon Bret Easton Ellis whose own experiences inspired the book "American Psycho".

Quote from an interview; OregonLive (2010);

"[Patrick Bateman] did not come out of me sitting down and wanting to write a grand sweeping indictment of yuppie culture. It initiated because my own isolation and alienation at a point in my life. I was living like Patrick Bateman. I was slipping into a consumerist kind of void that was supposed to give me confidence and make me feel good about myself but just made me feel worse and worse and worse about myself. That is where the tension of 'American Psycho' came from... It came from a much more personal place."

-- Mula Moon Bret Easton Ellis

Now, onto the movie "Fight Club", which was directed by Magha Sun David Fincher, and stars Magha Sun Edward Norton and Mula Sun Brad Pitt.

The most highlighted character from this film, played by Brad Pitt, is Tyler Durden, who plans on making a revolution to destroy the hyper-capitalistic, materialistic superficial culture that we saw destroy Patrick Bateman from the inside in "American Psycho".

(video - 🎧)

Of course, just like Ashwini Moon Patrick Bateman took his obsessive consumerism too far; Mula Sun Tyler Durden lays on the opposite spectrum, aiming to destroy modern society by blowing up all credit card companies and ruining the world's economy. Mula is related to destruction as it is ruled by Nirriti, the goddess of destruction. The oppressive forces that weigh on this Mula character, Tyler Durden, causes him into a spiral for freedom (9H), using extremities and acts of terrorism to be rid of ego/society. Whereas Ashwini, having no solid identity and just being undeveloped in nature, is more likely to conform; but so long as Ketu is there, there will always be an emptiness in the ambitious pursuit of things. Ashwini can grant excess wealth and fame, but with no inner fulfillment or balance, you see characters like Patrick Bateman. Or Daniel Plainview from "There Will Be Blood".

A movie directed by Paul Thomas Anderson who has Ketu in Magha, and stars Ashwini Moon, Mula Ascendant Daniel Day Lewis who portrays Daniel Plainview. Plainview is more Ashwini, as he is an extremely ambitious, capitalistic and competitive oilman.

His pursuit for wealth and power leads him to personal loneliness, isolation and emptiness, we see how Ketuvians become so drained by the energies they absorb in the pursuit of things. Similarly to Patrick Bateman, he not only hates others but himself as well and wishes for no one to succeed in life.

His primal competitiveness and self-loathing even drive away his only family, his only child. His adult son means to do his own oilrig business and cuts his partnership with him. But Plainview's unchecked ambition shows that even after attaining success and power, he literally goes ahead to disown his own son as he considers him competition now. And now he extends the same hatred he has for others to him. Further isolating himself; this validating his deep sense of loneliness that was always there with his self-loathing.

The film ends in an Ashwini fashion; in which Plainview goes into a psychotic meltdown and murders someone who he has had a long stewing hatred for.

(YouTube clip by me - 🎧)

youtube

I wanted to provide a brilliant video from the YouTuber "The Vile Eye", who explored the dark nature of this character; because it perfectly illustrates Ashwini nakshatra in a twisted way, especially in how Aries in this segment is influenced by Ketu forces. Everything about this character is every Aries stereotype you can think of from the top of your head, but Ketu exaggerates it to the point of extremity and tragedy.

youtube

Amazing video for anyone who wants to understand Ashwini at its extreme which can manifest in real life of course.

The series "Peaky Blinders" stars Ashwini Moon Cillian Murphy whose character faces moral dilemmas, as his relentless pursuit of power contributes to his moral ambiguity.

His ruthless ambition to become the most powerful in the criminal underworld is something I couldn't help but relate it back to Ashwini's drive & competitiveness.

The movie "Scarface" stars Ashwini Sun Al Pacino who plays Tony Montana. And fun fact, Tony Montana is loosely based and inspired by the real-life figure, Al Capone, who had Ashwini Moon, according to astrotheme — although take with a grain of salt as it conflicts with other data.

Both Tony Montana and Al Capone had unchecked ambitions and an unrelenting desire for power. In Ashwini, extreme power can be attained, and we saw how Tony Montana quickly rose to it (as Ashwini is the Star of Transport and it is associated with Shidhra Vyapani Shakti which translates to 'The Power to Quickly Reach Things'). Similarly, Al Capone was also driven by the desire for power, and he attained it.

Like Daniel Plainview in "There Will Be Blood", Tony Montana starts to experience isolation after all of his achievements. His chaotic behaviour contributes to his alienation, and he starts to feel intensifying loneliness, which seems to be a theme with this nakshatra. And this film also ends in Ashwini fashion; with absolute chaos, the psychotic unraveling of Tony and of course death.

I wanted to also add in the movie "Nightcrawler" which stars Mula Sun Jake Gyllenhaal who plays a character willing to go to the extreme lengths for success and personal achievement, to the point of exploiting others, unconcerned with ethical boundaries.

He has a distorted view of success and has an unchecked, ruthless ambition. He is also a socially isolated character, behaving inappropriately as he is disconnected from social norms. In his obsessive & relentless pursuit of success, he is devoid of humanity. Had to mention this film because these themes are not exclusive to Ashwini.

But as I did mention, Mula natives are more likely to be aware of societal pressures and these natives often feel deeply disturbed by them. In the film "Falling Down", Mula Moon Michael Douglas plays a character who has become disillusioned and is now aware of the pressures and oppression caused by the modern-day life. This movie is literally directed by Magha Sun Joel Schumacher.

He confronts many issues such as homelessness and crime, which are heavily rooted in the greedy, capitalistic system of modern society. But he becomes violent and chaotic himself, going into a descent to madness (from absorbing the energies felt by the collective who feel the weight of these oppressive forces within society). This movie deals with the consequences of unchecked rage, a theme shared in all Ketu nakshatras.

The film "Taxi Driver", which stars Magha Sun Robert De Niro and is directed by Magha Ascendant Martin Scorsese, depicts a man who suffers from extreme loneliness, alienation from society, and struggles with existential crisis. The film explores social decay; such as social disparities, the disillusionment of our main character to society's ills, crime, poverty etc. He goes into a descent into vigilantism, using violence as a catharsis which is a common thing for these Ketu nakshatras (mainly Magha and Mula as it looks at societal frustrations and the emptiness in life/modern culture).

The character also suffers from a possible case of untreated mental illness, and insomnia — and this seems to be a theme with all Ketu nakshatras in general.

Another film where the main character suffers from extreme insomnia is "The Machinist", starring Ashwini Moon Christian Bale whose character's insomnia and untreated mental illness literally contribute to his isolation and alienation.

And the film "Fight Club", in which Magha Sun Edward Norton plays an insomniac character who has dissociative identity disorder. And his split personality is interestingly played by Mula Sun Brad Pitt.

Then the film "Insomnia", directed by Ketu in Magha Christopher Nolan, starring Ashwini Sun Al Pacino who plays an insomniac detective who faces some mental challenges.

There is a spiritual belief about insomnia which suggests there may be a disturbance in one's spirit; unresolved issues that have been long reppressed may be linked to an imbalance of energy within the body. This imbalance causes restlessness and mental problems. This idea aligns with Ketu and the 12th house, which deal with the unconscious — particularly deep-rooted traumas and the ways in which they affect us and those around us. It isn’t just about traumas; it can also stem from the repression of internal suffering caused by loneliness or external pressures. We see this with Patrick Bateman, whose only outlet is literal murder, or Tyler Durden's "revolutionary" fight club, which causes more destruction around him as planned. Both characters violently act out from these unaddressed, decaying energies within themselves and within society.

The series "Sharp Objects", directed by Magha Moon Jean-Marc Vallé, mostly deals with family traumas, but also shows how those traumas and unresolved energies literally cause death and chaos around them.

Camille Preaker, played by Magha Sun Amy Adams, is deeply traumatized and troubled. She has a history of self-harm and bears many scars on her body; her self-destructive behaviour is a coping mechanism for the trauma she experienced in her youth (sexual violence by a group of boys and witnessing the slow, preventable death of her sister). Then we have her younger half-sister Amma, played by Magha Moon Eliza Scanlen, who has a hidden dark side shaped by the family’s troubled history and generational trauma. By the end of the series, we discover that Amma is the killer responsible for the violent murders that have shocked the townspeople of Wind Gap. Amma is behind all the gruesome deaths of the girls whose teeth were removed.

While Camille’s coping mechanism involves cutting herself as self-punishment for the guilt she harbours from her sister’s death, Amma literally commits homicidal acts. This reflects just how damaged and complex their trauma is, as well as the toxicity of the community they grew up in. Their mother, played by Mula Moon Patricia Clarkson, has Munchausen syndrome and is responsible for the death of her oldest daughter. Camille witnessed her sister’s suffering and death, viewing her mother as a monster — and now sees her little sister as an extension of her mother.

This series is an excellent example of how unchecked personal trauma can impact others, especially those who are uninvolved. It also shows how much destruction can be caused, as seen with Amma killing other girls as an outlet — similar to Patrick Bateman's. This is why I now realize how wrong I was about Ketu. Ketu is not necessarily about isolating from society. In relation to society, Ketu represents the unaddressed, rotting energies within it, always tying back to individuals’ personal and generational traumas. It makes sense that Magha relates to ancestral roots and the origins of oneself, including the origins of one’s trauma.

Now onto the film "Nocturnal Animals", which is directed by Magha Sun Tom Ford, stars Magha Sun Amy Adams and Mula Sun Jake Gyllenhaal.

Amy Adams plays Susan, a successful art gallery owner. She receives a manuscript for a novel called Nocturnal Animals sent to her by her ex-husband Edward, played by Jake Gyllenhaal. The book is extremely violent and tragic, but it turns out to be a symbolic reflection of their relationship and marriage, tying into Ketu themes of unresolved trauma and getting to the roots of it. The book forces Susan to confront how much her actions hurt Edward.

The movie focuses on confronting one's past and demonstrates how trauma continues to shape the lives of those involved. It also shows Susan still has unresolved issues, evident in her repulsed reactions to the extreme parts of the novel.

The movies "Split" and "Glass", stars two Ashwini Suns, Anya Taylor Joy and James McAvoy. McAvoy's character, Kevin, has dissociative personality disorder and these different personalities exist to keep him safe. His trauma is so extreme and deeply painful that it manifested into the creation of The Beast, his most dangerous and superhuman personality. Three kidnapped girls are prey to The Beast as they end up being devoured by it but only one survives — and that's Anya Taylor Joy's character, Casey.

The reason why she doesn't fall victim is because she, too, has suffered extreme trauma and her resilience through it is what creates her immediate connection with Kevin. It is when The Beast sees her scars that he calls her pure, implying that those who have been damaged are the ones who are truly evolved.

(YouTube clip by me - 🎧)

youtube

Also, "Split" is another example of how deeply repressed energies and traumas of one can ruin everything around them and victimize those close to the Ketuvians (usually uninvolved people's lives being violently taken; "Split", "Sharp Objects", "American Psycho", "Falling Down" etc.).

Ashwini Moon Zendaya in the series "Euphoria" plays a character, Rue, who has been through a significant amount of trauma, including the passing of her father. She uses self-destructive ways to cope with her deep emotional pain and grief, very similarly to Magha Sun Amy Adams's character in "Sharp Objects". Rue uses drugs to numb herself from her harsh realities. There is a moment in the series in which she has a chaotic meltdown.

(YouTube clip by me - 🎧)

youtube

Something I now understand with Ashwini is how explosive, volatile and scary its ungrounded energy can be — exactly why I'd commonly associate it with hysterical meltdowns which can lead to accidental or unplanned homicidal acts or other forms of harm/self-harm. This scene of Rue is vaguely taking me back to Ashwini Moon Christian Bale's spiraling and meltdowns in "American Psycho".

(YouTube clip by me - 🎧)

youtube

Ketu, especially with Magha, seems to cause erratic behaviours when its natives aren't purified of their long-accumulated baggage in their unconsciousness — exactly why the 8th house is also ruled by Ketu, as Scorpio shares this particular theme. As long as there is deep disturbance and imbalance in the body, there is no rest for the soul – even for future incarnations to come.

But now, I want to touch on the senseless harshness of Ketu. Remember, this energy embodies the eternal, sucking void. Mula nakshatra relates to the center of the cosmic void and delves straight into its roots. Ashwini has already risen from it, while Mula is centering itself back into it. Mula is where we seek an awakening to the truth behind reality. What lies on the other side of the cosmic void?

Truth is sought in Mula; but it seems in Ashwini nakshatra, it is understood that chaos and nothing is the absolute truth of reality. There is no inherent meaning to anything, which may sound nihilistic, but it is precisely what makes life beautiful.

In the film The Pianist, written and directed by Magha Sun Roman Polanski and starring Ashwini Sun Adrien Brody, the story begins on a warm note with a well-put-together family and a handsome, talented Ashwini man who dreams of being a pianist. However, things take a drastic turn.

We witness a once bright-eyed man transform into a shell of his former self after enduring harrowing events. The events continue to worsen, growing more tragic until there is no longer even a sliver of hope. The majority of the film is filled with despair, senseless cruelty, and the slow annihilation of the protagonist’s soul.

I've never watched a film more Ketuvian than this — surrounded by genocide, death, and complete isolation, consumed by one's own lonely misery. One moment, you think a character might somehow make it out alive because they have the conviction and drive to survive, but the film immediately takes that hope away as they helplessly die. You think the protagonist might finally see some light, and the film even provides brief moments of comfort, but it ultimately shows how everything stays horrific.

There are no answers to any prayers, as suffering is ongoing. This tone creates another layer of entrapment, and you watch as the character resigns himself to letting life do whatever it wants to him, trapped in a world where he is helpless. With Ketu, you come to realize there was never any security at all.

But his survival at the end makes you question why he even went through that to begin with. There was no lesson to be learned. Why did his friends and family die, but not him? In the end, he became the successful pianist he had dreamed of from the beginning. He was exceptionally talented from the start; these events took everything from him except his passion for the piano.

What he went through was senseless, as Ketu has no prime motivation. Saturn will push you through the worst so that you can reach a level where you can attain all of your reaped rewards, but Ketu doesn’t care about what you get in the end – that's also Rahu's objective, as Rahu deals with ego. Ketu deals with the evolution of one's soul, and that usually involves its annihilation.

The film "Society of the Snow" is literally directed by Ashwini Moon J.A. Bayona, based on real life events. There's a documentary based on these events as well, "Stranded: I've Come from a Plane That Crashed on the Mountains", directed by Magha Moon Gonzalo Arijon.

Now, in Society of the Snow, there is a tone of hopelessness set in the film because of the gruesome reality these characters (based on real-life people) experience. Never in their lifetime did they think that everything would change so drastically from just living the average life of normal teenage boys — echoing the opening of "The Pianist". These characters, who were part of a rugby team, get on a plane that would soon crash onto a glacier surrounded by endless, cold, harsh mountains — with just a piece of the wrecked plane remaining, which they take shelter in. The protagonists are surrounded by the dead bodies of friends who did not survive the crash, signifying total despair and loss. They couldn’t even sleep; the first night spent with many of them crying and wailing out loud, nearly freezing to death.

A day after, a rescue helicopter searches for them and they all scream out for help. But the helicopter misses them, barely noticeable under all the glacier that surrounds them. This is when the sense of hopelessness starts to intensify as the story progresses. Now that the chances of being rescued remain at zero, they realize they can’t ignore their growing hunger anymore. They all have no choice but to eat the flesh of the dead bodies, after running out of chocolates, and we see how these decisions mentally challenge some of the characters.

It is truly tragic that they were stranded, isolated from the world, and in complete despair every waking day, for a span of 72 days. After being rescued, we see just how malnourished they were from the looks of their bodies. They come back home bone-skinny and depleted. The monologue in the ending scene tells us how the survivors wondered: "Why didn’t we all get to come back [home]?" "What is the meaning of it all?" These were the questions I wondered for the movie "The Pianist".

Ashwini Moon J.A. Bayona also made the film "The Impossible", which is about survival and resilience — based on real life events. Much like "Society of the Snow", it also has a sense of complete despair and there is an involuntary separation of a family (which reminds me of "The Pianist" in which Ashwini Sun Adrien Brody's character is also separated from his family in the story).

"Nothing is more powerful than the human spirit", it writes on the poster.

"Nowhere", is directed by Ashwini Moon Albert Pintó. It's a survival thriller about a pregnant woman who finds herself isolated from society as she's drifting in the sea trapped inside a container. Because of her newborn baby, she is forced to survive and protect her child even when there is no hope. The reason she's even in the container is because she was fleeing a society of a dystopian future in which women & children are caged and murdered (her attempt to run away from oppressive, societal forces leads her to total isolation).

And we also have the film "127 Hours", directed by Ashwini Moon Danny Boyle, starring Ashwini Sun James Franco who plays Aron Ralston, whose right arm becomes trapped against the canyon wall when he was on a solo canyoneering trip. When he is unable to release himself, we realize the severity of his situation. He is completely isolated and alone. His own supplies have run out and he's losing his mind. The struggle for survival and one's own helplessness is a theme of Ashwini nakshatra as this drives one into taking extreme measures for freedom — as he resorts to cutting his own arm off.

These themes seem to speak of the power and resilience of the human spirit, as emphasized in "The Impossible" and "Society of the Snow". Our ability to survive even just our own personal traumas must be a testament to our spirit being an extension of the Higher Power which is behind the happenings of all of these senseless yet significant experiences and events we go through.

It is in Ashwini that one's experience through harsh forces contributes to the spirit's evolution after total annihilation, which leads us on the path towards moksha.

Ketu is very pure by nature, and it wants to destroy impurities. The repression of one's accumulated dirt can manifest in destructive tendencies. By facing one's true inner self and embracing your entirety is how you embrace Ketu in general. But one must go deep and inward. All three Ketu nakshatras deal with getting to the roots for this reason.

Ashwini is ruled by the Ashwini Kumaras, gods of medicine and healing, also known as divine physicians. In order to heal, one must get to the root of all disturbances to create the perfect medicine for healing. As Ashwini is ruled by the 1st house, this involves getting to the roots of oneself for self-liberation. Magha, on the other hand, is about tracing your own existence back to the existence of others — usually family members and ancestors. Magha relates to generational trauma and shining light on it in order to become freer.

Mula is symbolized by the roots of a tree, and "mula" translates to "roots." It signifies ancestral roots as well, but primarily the truth. Mula is where disillusionment takes place as one gets directly into the roots of everything, going right into the galactic center — which can also signify going right into the roots of our demons and letting all of that rotting energy burn from your body. After this purification process, one's consciousness raises by default.

Ashwini has strong, undeveloped energies that can be tamed and grounded to be properly channeled. In order to achieve this, one must let go of poisonous impurities so that they are no longer controlled or possessed by unseen forces. It is in Ashwini that we know of the interconnection of the collective consciousness, which was secretly discovered in Uttara Bhadrapada and remembered in Revati. Ashwini nakshatra is extremely sensitive to outward energies, as are the rest of the Ketu nakshatras. Every individual's consciousness is affecting the whole world in some way. This, being a Ketu theme in general, describes the whole energetic field of the world and how we each play a part in it and affect each other's lives.

As all Ketu nakshatras deal with getting into the roots of things, we must get dirty by digging into our own roots. These unconscious triggers, which form our Shadow Self, contribute to how we interact with the world and other people. There is always the capacity to harm or further traumatize others because of our own unchecked, hidden troubles.

#ashwini #aries #magha #leo #mula #sagitarrius #1st house #5th house #9th house #vedic astrology #astro observations #astrology #sidereal astrology #nakshatra series #vedic observations #sidereal observations #Youtube

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