#i took way too many pics of her while outside

[yikes-ajax]

It's the weekend, so what am I doing? Taking pictures of my cat. (She sassed me the whole time)

[sserajeans]

bff premium?

kang haerin x fem! reader

synopsis: after distancing yourself from a friend you've unfortunately fallen for, the rest of the group catches onto her sour mood, and all fingers point to you

genre + others: fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers, non-idol au, high school setting, friend group is rly just nwjns + yn

notes: i swear yail update will come i just had this in my drafts and felt bad for not posting for a while!!, requested, IM SO SORRY IT TOOK THIS LONG I REALLY WANTED TO BE IN TBE MOOD WHEN I WROTE THIS 😭😭😭😭 luckily haerin posted some pics that ive gotten completely insane over.. so!

you and haerin always had something special between the both of you.

you two met in middle school, when your homeroom teacher was assigning seats. she was a quiet kid, and so were you, but one of you had to get over it. so when the class was given a paired activity to "get-to-know each other", you were forced to come out of your shell, and haerin welcomed you (surprisingly) warmly.

it started off as a strictly-seatmate type of friendship, where you two would only interact whenever it was needed. but as you spent more and more time working on assigned activities together, you were beginning to realize that maybe you enjoyed her company more than you thought, and so did she.

eventually, you two began spending time together outside of class; during recess, lunchtime, sometimes after class in the library. it didn't take long until the both of you became really close, a known tandem. you were her closest friend, she was yours, and everyone knew that.

over time, your friends became hers as well, and so whenever everyone was free, your little friend group composed of minji, hanni, danielle, haerin, hyein, and you, would hang out together. at a clubroom, the courtyard, the gymnasium, a cafe, the cafeteria, anywhere.

but no matter how many close friends surrounded you two, it seemed clear to anyone that you were closer to each other than anyone else. the same way hanni was to hyein, and minji was to danielle.

now your feelings for haerin grew a couple years later, and you only admitted them to yourself in your sophomore year of high school. that's about four years or so since you two met, and about a year ago from today.

from the beginning, you had always found haerin pretty. it wasn't hard to admit. she was nice to look at, and the way her cat-like eyes turned into crescent moons whenever she smiled ear to ear... yeah, you knew you were enjoying it a little too much.

and it only worsened the more you got to know each other, because you found out there were so many things to adore.

the way she wouldn't stop talking about frogs, her love for tomatoes, her eyes and the way she blinks slowly when she looks at something she loves (a cat-like habit you picked up when she was watching a recipe video for an avocado dish).

the list could go on and on if no one stopped you, and after talking about it to your mom (who was very supportive of everything, by the way), you came to the conclusion that you liked haerin, in a "more-than-a-friend way".

but you had no idea, not a single clue, on what to do with that realization. what would happen if you told her? if you didn't? would she feel the same? would she be disgusted if she didn't?

crushes and romance was one of the most untouched conversation topics between the two of you, so you had no idea if she was even open to such ideas.

but the one thing you knew for sure, was that she was your best friend, and you were hers. you loved your best friend, and so did she. in a different way, or not, you felt like she still deserved to know. you hated hiding things from her, and history proves it only made things worse whenever you did.

so you decided to confess. great!

and suddenly you see her acting all lovey dovey with danielle.

well, in retrospect, they weren’t exactly being lovey dovey, and you kind of knew that.

danielle was just big on affection, as she was to everyone, and is one of the few people whose pda was complied with (or tolerated) by haerin.

and despite not being much of a pda fan, in that moment, you badly wanted to be in danielle’s place, comfortably smothering your best friend with all the love in the world.

oh, and it didn’t help that people started a couple rumors about them being a couple.

sure, everyone knew you were each other’s number one, each other’s best of best friend, but the way you two showed affection with each other was very different from the way danielle does, to again, everyone, but you didn’t care about that.

the bitter sting in your stomach seeing the two of them made you realize that it was probably a much better idea to just get rid of your feelings (you’re an idiot, you’ve had them for years. they won’t just go away). after all you didn’t want to ruin what you had with two of your closest friends.

and with that goal in mind, so began your plan to avoid kang haerin at all costs!

you’re really stupid.

in the process of avoiding haerin, you indirectly were avoiding the rest of the girls too. you mostly hung out with your other classmates from different subjects like woonhak and eunchae. and whenever you were asked about it by hanni (mostly), you shrugged it off and said it was just “school things you needed help with”.

it was a dumb excuse. everyone knew you were at least top 5 of the class. and what kind of help were you getting if you were going out to places like arcades and karaoke spots anyways?

the girls were bothered, but not as much as haerin was. she was often visibly in a sour mood, ate half of her usual cafeteria servings, and would talk a lot less than she already did.

they were worried for the both of you simultaneously, but hyein and minji put two and two together, which only doubled their worry.

initially, it was just you and haerin's separate well-being they were concerned about, but now that they realized the time frame in which you began distancing yourself matched up with when haerin's mood went down, they were now also worried about what could've happened between you two.

so they took it amongst themselves to at least know what was going on.

"haerin-ah."

"haerin."

"kang."

"kang haerin!"

haerin looked up from her untouched tray of food, her chopsticks poking around slices of beef in sauce.

"hm?"

minji sat across her as the first two to arrive in their usual lunch table.

"i was asking if anything happened between you and y/n or something..."

"oh..."

haerin looked back down and continued playing around with her food before sighing and looking back up, muttering a couple words.

"wish i knew."

"y/n-unnie! is something up between you and haerin-unnie?"

"huh? what?" you were sat in the sound proofed booth of the music room, guitar plugged in an amplifier. you squinted at hyein's figure from outside the room, putting your guitar on its stand and motioning her to come inside.

"can you repeat that? i can't really hear anything from in there..." scratching the back of your neck, you gave hyein a seat from behind the booth's drum sets.

"i was asking!" hyein took a deep breath, you raised your eyebrows signaling her to continue. "if you and haerin-unnie have something going on."

"h-huh? what? what something?"

"no not like that! i meant you know, did you fight or... 'cause she's been so sour lately! she wouldn't even give me her leftover tomatoes... she wasn't even gonna eat them! like at all!"

the expression on your face shifted to what most would identify as worry and concern.

"...she hasn't been eating the tomatoes? she loves those..."

"yeah! and so much more! anyways, minji-unnie and i deduced it was about you, so here i am." hyein gleamed with pride while you chuckled in amusement.

you leaned over to mess with the top of her head and sighed, "i'll talk to her. you don't worry about a thing, okay?"

and you kept your word to the younger girl. how could you not?

you spotted haerin alone in one of the clubrooms, cleaning up some of the materials they used for the day. knocking on the room's door startled her a bit, given by the minor flinch, but she relaxed seeing it was you.

still, you could tell her facial expression was slightly guarded, and it hurt you, but you definitely deserved it.

she turned back around to continue organizing the materials into three separate boxes, not saying a word.

"hyein said you haven't been eating the tomatoes in your lunch." you slowly took your steps towards her and stopped when you were a couole steps away on the other side of the desk she used to arrange the items. "or your lunch at all..."

she paused to look up at you and give you a short glare, before walking to move a box to the teacher's desk in the room. you followed a few steps behind her, arms behind your back as your fingers fiddled with each other.

"you shouldn't... skip your meals, you know..." you muttered, clearly intimidated by haerin’s cold facade. "health... you need to eat..."

seeing as how you still had no reply, you decided it was probably best to just go straight to the point.

"hey... i'm sorry..."

you were used to haerin not saying that much, especially when you got to know her more and she explained that it was simply just too tiring. but you were also always the exception to that.

whenever it was just the two of you, one would be surprised to see haerin as the louder one. talkative, always rambling about something, while you smiled, nodded, and gave comments whenever necessary.

"yangi, please say something"

haerin loved that nickname more than anything. it was pretty foul to pull that card, actually. you came up with it when you two were having a friendly debate over what animal she resembled.

"i don't know where you're getting cat, y/n."

"are you crazy? how are you getting frog!"

"literally everything!"

"no. you're simply incorrect. you're literally a cat in human form!"

"absolutely not!"

"whatever you say, goyangi."

"what did you just call me?"

"go-yang-i. goyangi. go. yangi."

"you're so... annoying."

"okay, yangi."

she let out a frustrated sigh, looking up at you with what felt like her eyes piercing through your soul.

"so you get to disappear on me without a word, but i have to reply when you speak to me for the first time in 8 days?"

yes, she's been counting the days.

but wouldn't you be too if she did the same?

well, you probably would've confronted her a little sooner. but it's not that haerin didn't care enough to do something about it, she just genuinely didn't want to overstep space you might've been needing.

"thats what i thought." she let go of the box, turned her back, and walked back to the desks to grab the 2nd box.

"look... i'm sorry, i really am." you immediately caught up to her with a few steps, eyes pleading with nothing but guilt.

"if you are then can you at least tell me why you were avoiding me?"

she stared at you, observing how your thumbs rubbed over your fingers, or how your breathing got a little heavy, both nervous habits she picked up.

noting how you probably weren't going to say much anytime soon, she let go of the 2nd box to face you.

"you're my best friend, y/n"

that hurt didn't it?

a reminder that that was probably all you were going to be to her.

"do you know how..." haerin took a deep inhale, it was beginning to get shaky. her mind was a mess, thinking of the best words to express the hurt you made her feel over the past few days. but she couldn't.

"nevermind."

knowing the way haerin acted added on to your internal conflict. haerin usually wasn't afraid to speak her mind when it was just the two of you, but now she is. she couldn't. and you knew it was your fault.

but were you really ready to tell her you liked her? now? you wanted to show her you were sorry, but it really wasn't that easy.

if things go wrong, she could continue the game and avoid you forever. and just like that you'd lose your best friend, ruining the group's dynamics as well.

but you figured your brain was just making up excuses for you to not tell her out of fear. what mattered the most now was letting her know you were sorry, and that hurting her was never part of the plan.

"look, i'll tell you, because i really truly am sorry for hurting you," you start off, hands in the air motioning whatever. "but i-... i need you to promise me..."

"what?" her voice was much softer now. still cold, but not sharp enough to make it feel like you were stabbed every time she spoke.

"that you won't be... weirded out, or disgusted, or leave the room. you'll talk about it with me."

"you're the one whos been avoiding the talking y/n, i hope you know that."

you often forget how quick she was with her words. it was like a whip. painful, fast, happens before you even noticed it did. you were just so used to her nicer side. she's never been frustrated with you.

"right..."

you took a deep breath, mentally composing a script of how you felt and how you were going to say it. just like the million times you've practiced to the mirror at home.

"i've been avoiding you 'cause i think i like you. or, well, i know i like you. in a more than a friend way. and i have been for a while, and i was going to tell you because i didn't like hiding things from you, but i saw you with dani one day and i just- i don't know. okay? it's stupid. i know she's like that with everyone, but i didn't like it when she was with you, so i decided that i'd rather just get rid of how i felt to make it easier and to not ruin any of our friendships. so i figured the only way to do that was if i didn't talk to you. clearly that affected us both in a way i didn't want or intend. i'm sorry i ignored you. it was selfish of me to not think about how you could've felt throughout everything."

haerin took a minute just standing there, trying to process the hell of a bomb of information you just dropped on her. her cheeks were gradually growing red the more she realized what you were trying to tell her.

"hey... hello... did you hear what i was saying... or do i have to repeat it... because i'd really rather not..." you waved your palm in front of the girl who seemed to be frozen in place. "but if that's what it takes then i guess tha—"

you stopped talking as haerin slowly approached you, wrapping her arms around your waist and burying her face on your shoulder. she was careful to do so slowly, giving you a chance to move away if you needed to. she knows you're not into physical touch, and it just wasn't exactly the norm for the two of you.

"i was worried."

"hey, i've been eating fine. it's you tha-"

"no, not that. i was worried you might've overheard dani and i talk about you when i told her i like you, and that you were disgusted by it and didn't want to be... associated with me because of it. and maybe you just didn't know how to tell me so you went with the silent treatment.... i was going nuts, y/n. that's why hyein was talking about skipping lunch and whatever. all i could think about was why."

you could feel the guilt eating you up bit by bit on the inside. it quite literally broke your heart to hear haerin, the girl with not a lot of words, express the effect of what you did. it was like acid, burning up your stomach, your chest, your head. except that acid was guilt.

"oh god... i'm so sorry, yangi... the whole thing was a really selfish move and— and i should've thought about you first. i really am so so sorry..."

you held her closer and softly shifted your body weight from one foot to the other, swaying the two of you softly, somewhat like a cradle calming a baby down to sleep.

"hey... it's okay... i know you didn't mean it. i'm just glad we're fine now."

you two stay in that position for a couple of minutes, feeling each other relax over time as a result of finally resolving the conflict you had caused.

that was until haerin broke the silence.

"so... hate to be the person to ask but..."

"what are we?"

the two of you laughed for a while at how the question was so cliche and cringe yet necessary.

"yes."

"bff premium?"

"y/n!"

"i'm kidding! i'm kidding! but... i say we take things slow? get a little used to this, whatever it is, whatever it could be?"

"yeah, i like that."

the two of you smiled at each other with nothing but warmth and care, before ultimately pulling in for another hug.

"minji-unnie you owe me 2,000 won."

"hyein you're being too loud."

"huh do you hea-?..." haerin pulled away with a surprised face, interrupted by y/n quickly stomping towards the door, slamming it open to reveal minji and hyein falling forward to the floor. a result of relying on the door for support.

"seriously? i expected hyein, but minji-unnie?" you sighed in disappointment, haerin walking over to see what the fuss was all about.

"listen, it's for hanni she placed bets too."

"...lame excuse."

"KANG HAERIN!"

[moonchildstyles]

rêvasser

élan part two: harry was too observant. y/n worried he could see the cracks in her walls.

wourdcount: 12.8k+

—————

Fran🫧

      send me a pic of your nails when ur done!!!! 

After answering with an agreeable response, (Y/N) flicked to an email from her stylist. Details were being rehashed over what she wanted to wear to the 132 Gala coming in the next few weeks, Dom again trying to push her in the direction of a darker outfit while she gravitated towards her usual palette of softer hues. Outside the window, glimmering buildings swept by with too many cars on the street and too many people, not paying attention, trying to cross the pavement. 

Harry was a silent wall beside her, quiet and stiff. Just like usual. This was the first she'd seen him since the pilates incident. Though he was in a substantially better mood than that last meeting, even giving her a slight smile when she climbed into the SUV beside him, (Y/N) still heard the round of reprimanding he doled out for her. 

She'd happily take Harry over her father, though. Now that, for the first time ever, he'd followed through on a threat (i.e. getting a bodyguard for her), there was a level of worry tied to any contact involving her dad. But, he hadn't called at all this week—not even a passive-aggressive text sent her way. When she had texted him that she finally RSVP'd to the upcoming Gala like he'd been hounding her to do just a week prior, he'd left her on read. While she much rather preferred this limited contact, she had a brewing worry that something worse was in the works if he was willing to ignore whatever information Harry had relayed or anything he'd read in the press.

But, she'd take what she could get. Focusing on the Gala with prepping and planning was something she'd happily let take her attention, even if the whole bodyguard/handler/professional babysitter thing was going to be hard to ignore given that Harry would have to accompany her to any and all events surrounding the event.

Though there was one thing her mother did instill in her before she divorced her husband and began jaunting around the world with (Y/N) left at home: Nothing could ruin a good nail appointment. Not even the presence of a bodyguard was an exception to that rule as far as (Y/N) was concerned. 

"Thank you, Sully," she chirped, stepping out of the SUV with a wave over her shoulder. Harry predictably followed right after her, the soles of his shoes patting against the concrete. "You don't have to come with me, if you don't want," she told him, stopping him before he could close the door behind and prompt Sully to leave, "It's kind of a long appointment, so if you wanted Sully to take you to get something to eat or whatever, I'm sure he'd be okay with that." 

While she couldn't imagine Harry taking her up on the offer, at least not after the clear line he made earlier in the week, she still felt it was something she should give as an option. Nail appointments weren't very exciting if you weren’t the one in the chair.

"No, thank you," Harry answered without a lag, closing the door behind him with a slam. He didn't even look at her as he spoke. 

Turning on her heel, (Y/N) took in a deep breath and moved on. Stepping through the front door held a moment of deja vu with the way Harry trailed behind her silently. The women manning the front gave her the same curious looks as the waitstaff at the brunch shop though they all treated her with more familiarity after coming to her regular appointments for almost two years now. 

"Hi! Welcome in, (Y/N)!" the same blonde woman that always greeted her said, her eyes floating above her shoulder to find Harry, "How are you?" 

The shining smile that earned her a top spot in the rumor mill bloomed on (Y/N)'s lips, "I'm doing perfect, thank you! You?" 

"Same as always," she chirped back, the same answer she always gave despite never detailing what the same even entailed. "You're in with Carlotta this morning, right?" 

"I am," (Y/N) beamed, stopping at the front podium with her designer purse hanging from the crook of her elbow. 

"She'll be right with you," the girl started, pointing in the direction of Carlotta's usual station over her shoulder, "You can take a seat at her station while you wait." 

"Got it, thank you," (Y/N) said, voice ever-pleasant and rehearsed. 

Taking the first step towards her chair, she saw the way the eyes of the other woman reached around and spotted Harry. He'd been seen at her side enough times to be recognizable to the right people, unfortunately. "Are we checking in for two appointments today or do we just have a friend tagging along?" 

"Just a friend," (Y/N) answered quickly. Hopefully the word friend would work through the media circuits just as well as everything else being said. 

Taking her seat at her usual station, (Y/N) made herself at home with a cross of her legs and her purse hanging from the hook drilled into the table. Harry pulled a vacant seat to sit beside her, taking the outermost side to leave her bookended by the wall and his body. Protector instincts, she figured. 

It wasn't long for him to begin to squirm, a fidget to his fingers. 

"Sorry," she whispered to him, pulling her phone from her bag to find the photo she was using for inspiration. 

A pinch appeared in Harry's brows. "What do you mean?" 

Keeping her voice low, she left her attention on her phone while she spoke, "I know it takes a bit to get used to knowing people are watching you, so..." 

It wasn't a surprise to feel others' eyes on her though it had been a while since her presence was notable to the staff here at her nail shop. The addition of a friend at her side was surely something that was garnering her more attention than usual, but Harry clearly wasn't used to it with the way he couldn't settle where he sat. While she was sure there were times that Camila and Monroe, his previous employers, were photographed with eyes on them, she couldn't imagine it was at the same level as she was currently going through. 

He'd get used to it. Maybe. 

Shrugging his shoulders, Harry swept his gaze around the room. "It's a little different, but I can handle it." 

She didn't doubt that. She couldn't imagine there was much Harry couldn't handle. 

Soon enough, Carlotta came out from the back with a fresh pair of pink gloves on, her usual smile, and big bouncy hair. 

"Good morning, honey! How are you?" she asked, brown eyes glimmering in the bright sunlight streaming through the sweeping windows. (Y/N) saw the second she seemed to register the extra guest at her side. 

"I'm good, thank you," (Y/N) greeted, stretching her hands out for Carlotta to have a look once she took her seat across. "How are you?"��

"Good," Carlotta sang, prying her eyes away from Harry to glance at (Y/N)'s nails, "What are we thinking for this set?" 

As much as (Y/N) was sure Carlotta wanted to ask about Harry, and why he was the first extra to ever come with her to an appointment like this, she kept her focus. She listened as (Y/N) went through and showed her the simple inspiration photos she had in mind from grazing through instagram. Glossy nudes with a sparkling French tip was the request at the moment, something easy before the elaborate set she would be getting right before the Gala night. 

The appointment went on as normal, Carlotta keeping her conversation to (Y/N) and the rapport they've built over the years. She was sure her tech was waiting for her to bring Harry into the flow, but (Y/N) didn't deviate from the route they'd already embarked on. Besides, Harry was much too involved in his brain and his job to be answering any kind of questions Carlotta may have wanted to ask. 

Despite Harry's perfect patrolling and the perfect distraction Carlotta was being, it wasn't long after she had started filing and shaping (Y/N)'s acrylics that there were titters and hushed whispers to be heard across the studio. Harry stiffened beside her, his jaw hardening as he scoped out the sound. 

Peeking around him, she saw a group of teenaged girls giggling around a single station as if they were waiting for their own tech to arrive. Two of them had eyes on her while the third was looking at her phone that had the camera conveniently facing towards where she and Harry were sat. The second they realized they were caught, the trio clammed up and looked away, phone disappearing under the lip of the table. Rushed whispers were exchanged between them though none of them dared to return her gaze. 

While (Y/N) was used to the treatment, something inside her ticked. It was another set of photos taken without her consent that would build towards another narrative that was anything but true. She was more than accustomed to that, this week had been enough already. More photos of herself was the last thing she wanted. 

Nonetheless, there was no way she could react other than with a smile and brushing off the moment. Still, she won't be called "kind" or "warm", she'll be called stiff. At least it wasn't "bitch", though.

When the girls caught her smiling, they gave her a small wave before erupting into more giggles in their corner of the studio. Harry barely held back his scoff as he watched the scene. 

Carlotta had gone quiet the second (Y/N)'s attention had shifted. They both saw as Harry shot a stiff look towards the girls, even when they were too caught up in themselves and whatever was going on in their phones to notice.

"Sorry," (Y/N) whispered, leaning towards Harry. She was hyper aware of Carlotta's quiet presence, but she couldn't forgo addressing the moment with the way Harry was reacting. "They'll be over it soon, it's okay." 

Harry only shook his head.

She wished she knew what was going on in his head. She wanted to know what he thought of that moment, what he collected from the way she reacted, or how much he was beginning to regret taking this job now that so many eyes scrutinized him. 

"Do you like this, or were you thinking a little bit sharper on the edges?" 

Carlotta's question pulled (Y/N)'s attention back to her nails, right where it needed to be. 

—————

"I'll be right back," Harry murmured, standing from his spot as he scoped out the bathroom. 

(Y/N) sent him off with a quiet okay, her attention placed on the sweeps of the small brush going across her nails.

"So," Carlotta nonchalantly mused, her gaze stuck on her work, "you know I don't believe everything I read, but I have to ask... Is that the guy?" Guiding (Y/N)'s hands under the lamp, Carlotta flicked her gaze up to look at her client through the fan of her dark lashes. 

With her back stiffening and lips thinning, (Y/N) didn't know what to say. Despite the conspiratorial smile on Carlotta's face, (Y/N) didn't feel like she was in on the joke. Her nail tech was one of the closest people to her in a funny way (nail appointments sometimes felt like therapy after a long week, and too many times had (Y/N) shown up hungover beyond repair), so it cracked at her shell just a bit to know that random stories could wriggle into the mind of someone who actually knew her. 

Shaking her head, (Y/N) gave her a mild smile. "It's not like that." She paused before offering up the rest of the story. "He's my new security actually." 

"Like a bodyguard?" Carlotta bubbled, taken aback as she paused in her line work of the French tip she was making. She seemed to mull over the possibility before nodding her head some. "I guess the stories have gotten a little out of hand, recently." 

"Yeah," (Y/N) offered lamely, "He'll at least make it sound a little bit more intimidating when I need photographers to get out of my way when I'm trying to get to my car." 

Swallowing around her dry throat, (Y/N) suddenly found it hard to speak about it all. Other than Francesca, most people didn't want to hear about how "hard" her life was; it was a joke, as if there was no way she could have anything negative happening. While in many ways that was true—she had a home, income that she never had to worry about, and the kind of time to indulge in herself that she knew many others didn't—but that didn't negate the fact that there were unique challenges in her life that wore on her. She hated to think about Carlotta listening to this and talking to her coworkers later about her spoiled client. 

Lighthearted as always, Carlotta's features lit up with a smile as she guided her hand in for the final round of drying. "I'm sure he will with those shoulders." 

Just in time, Harry returned with the conversation quieting then. Only a round or so more of drying with her hands under the lamp was needed before Carlotta was doing her ending spiel of how best to take care of the acrylics despite the fact (Y/N) was a longtime client with some of the best retention she'd ever seen (at least that's what Carlotta told her). 

"I love them!" she bubbled to her tech, standing up from her spot with her hands spread out to catch the clean lines of the French and crisp edges in the shaping. "Thank you so much." 

"Of course," Carlotta said, rounding her station to offer (Y/N) a loose hug, "I'll see you soon for your Gala nails, right?" 

"Right—hopefully, I'll have an idea ready then." A round of pleasant, albeit a bit forced laughter sounded between them. 

Goodbyes were shared before Carlotta went about cleaning up her station and (Y/N) and Harry were silently heading up to pay for the service. Only, (Y/N) was stopped with a rushed call of her name, the voice high-pitched and jittery. 

Stopping where she stood, Harry beside her ready to step in at a moment's notice, she turned to see that trio of girls, their own nails glimmering with paint and artificial length. They all looked at her with hopeful eyes and flushed cheeks. They were young—as young as (Y/N) was when she started traipsing around town by herself. She hoped they were being careful and looking out for one another. 

"Yes?" she pleasantly chirped, lashes fluttering in a quick blink. 

One of them dared to shuffle forward in her Prada sandals, sparkling iPhone clutched in her hand. "Can we get a picture with you?" 

Without a second thought, (Y/N) answered with an "Of course! What are your guys' names?" 

High on her attention, they flushed and giggled, hands shaking as they took turns to introduce themselves. The one with the phone in her hand—Izzy—was the ringleader it seemed, the most fearless of the trio though she seems just as incredulous to the fact (Y/N) was actually speaking to them. 

"You're, like, my favorite person on Instagram, bestie," Izzy chattered off, too-white smile beaming, "My parents hate that I follow you, but I don't care—I think your outfits are cute, and I can't wait until I'm old enough to dress like that without them telling me no." 

While the girls laughed and giggled, getting into position for the photo, (Y/N) tried to play along with a bubbling smile. It was more than uncomfortable to hear that these girls' families hated her, as well as hear about how much they couldn't wait to wear the same ensembles as she. At least, they were being nice.

Honestly, (Y/N) hadn't even thought that the outfits she posed in were something that should be reprimanded. She dressed in a way that made her feel pretty. She hadn't thought that the summer dresses she'd favored these last three months would be a subject of debate in households she didn't even know existed. 

Suddenly the off-the-shoulder bodysuit and pair of high waisted jeans she was wearing weren't enough. She wished she had pulled on a sweater despite the heat outside.

Nonetheless, (Y/N) just laughed along, playing the part long enough to keep them happy before retreating for the day. Taking the offered phone, she turned towards Harry with it stretched out towards him.

"Will you take a picture of us, Harry?" she asked, acknowledging him for the first time since he grew stiff when the girls had initially spotted them. 

"Sure," he answered gruffly, his gaze on her intense as usual though there was more curiosity than scrutiny this time around. 

The girls posed around her, arms around her waist and beaming smiles directed at the camera. Harry tapped the screen a couple of times while the girls giggled at her sides. The breakaway was seamless afterwards, Harry passing back the borrowed phone and (Y/N) slipping away from where she was swaddled between them. 

"It was so nice to meet you guys," she beamed, "But, we really need to head out. I'm sorry!" 

"Totally fine, thank you," Izzy spoke for them, bouncing on the balls of her feet, "Maybe we'll see you at our next appointment." 

"Maybe," (Y/N) laughed just before offering a wave as a final goodbye. 

Her smile stayed stiff on her cheeks as they walked away, though the girls must not have gauged their volume very well with the way she could hear them clearly over the growing distance. 

"That's her new boyfriend, Sydney! The one that she left Damien before, remember? He's the one in those pics from the other day," Izzy chattered off, much too loud to be appropriate in a place that would be considered a spa. And, because the subject of her gossip was within hearing range. 

It was an interesting thing to be a few teenaged girls' favorite villain. Even with the way they seemed to like her, they still would believe that she'd lie and cheat and fight like that. 

Harry was a solid, silent pillar beside her. He was a brick wall following wherever she went, only giving out a curl of his lips when he was acknowledged and he knew it was polite to do so. He stayed quiet up until he was escorting her through the plaza to meet up with Sully. 

"Do y'ever get used to that?" he asked, voice just a hair louder than the click of her heels over the bricks under her feet. 

"Hm?" she sounded, paying a little too much extra attention to the photo she was trying to take of her nails to send to Francesca. 

"Having people watch you all the time and take photos of you. Do you ever get used to that?" he detailed, casting his eyes around to where Sully could be waiting along the curb. 

Shrugging, (Y/N) tossed her phone into her purse. "I mean, kind of? It's been happening since I was in high school, but it's definitely been a little different lately just with... everything being posted about me and all." A beat passed once Harry spotted their car, the route changing as she followed after him. "I think I get it on the easier side, though, compared to others. At least people aren't attacking me or anything, right?" 

Harry's lips thinned at her words, jaw tight. "Right." 

Definitely the wrong thing to have said. 

Replaying her words with Harry's icy reaction, (Y/N) wanted to cringe. Why did she even say that? Of course he wouldn't think that was funny or even lighthearted when his entire job was to keep her out of harm's way. 

For a split second, she wanted to tell him about the letters and the photos she received. She wanted him to know that she knew that facet of her existence was serious—that she took his job seriously. But, that topic was more than off limits—something that would no doubt end in a phone call from her father and a one-way ticket to a Swedish cabin with no internet or link to the outside world for a minimum of six months. 

(Y/N) followed Harry to the SUV, silent as ever as there was no way to really recover from her slip. He held the door for her to slide inside before he came in next to her. 

Sully, the perfect breath of fresh air, twisted in his seat when they filed in. A broad smile could be seen under his moustache. "Let me see," he told (Y/N) offering a hand out for her. 

Happy to show off her nails, she gave her hand to him. "They're a different shape than normal, but I thought they would look nice with the French tip." 

"They're amazing," he smiled at her, the same response he always gave her when coming back from a nail appointment. "My daughter is going to want some just like that when she sees them on her phone." 

Settling back into her seat, (Y/N) smiled. "Let me know, and I can set up an appointment for her and everything. She'll just need to take care of them." 

"I'll tell her you said that," he told her before twisting back to face forward in his seat, "Anywhere else for the day?" 

From the corner of her eye, she could see Harry observing the moment. Just like usual.

She could go and start some prep for her Gala night outfit, take a look at Vivienne Westwood and Dior, but the idea of Harry being her only companion after her misplaced joke wasn't something she had much interest in. She, at least, needed Francesca for something like that. 

"Just home today, Sully. Thank you." 

Sitting in the back of the SUV, bench seat shared with Harry, (Y/N) felt exposed. She just hoped she was making the right moves under those watchful eyes. 

—————

Heaving a sigh, (Y/N) listened to Francesca with her phone pressed to her ear, her gaze cast across the New York skyline. 

"I'm sorry," Fran pouted through the line, (Y/N) practically able to hear the flutter of her lash extensions through the receiver. "If I had known, I wouldn't have promised I could make it." 

"It's okay, it's not your fault," (Y/N) soothed, chewing her bottom lip, "I can move my fittings to later in the afternoon, maybe? Would that work?" 

"You know how my mom gets when she comes into the city," Francesca sighed, sounding exhausted before the day had even started, "Her and her husband are back on that thing about me being a gallery owner, so you know they're planning on taking all day to make me realize how much of a dream it is for me—I just don't know it yet."

(Y/N) couldn't help the itty, bitty smile that touched the corner of her lips. How silly the two of them were; Francesca's worst problem is her mother wanting to gift a gallery to her, while (Y/N) squirmed at the thought of having a personal security guard follow her to keep her safe. 

Nonetheless, she did feel her heart deflate a bit knowing that her best friend wouldn't be accompanying her to something they both loved doing. As a bonus, Francesca would have also been acting like a buffer between she and Harry. Now she was going to be left with him sitting and brooding in the corner with his criticizing gaze while she twisted and turned in a multitude of mirrors.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)," Francesca said again. 

"It's okay, don't worry, okay?" (Y/N) repeated, hearing the sounds of the city from her free ear as the morning rush began and wouldn't stop until late at night. "Tell them I said hi, and I'll send you pictures of my favorites. Maybe we can still do our alterations together if everything matches up?" 

"Yes, definitely! I'll see you tomorrow night and we can talk about it more then." 

"See you tomorrow," (Y/N) settled, sinking into her lounger, "Love you." 

"Love you, too, bestie!" 

With that, (Y/N) pulled the phone from her ear and ended the call. Out on her balcony, the morning chill touched at the bare slashes of skin revealed by the open, crochet knit of her cardigan. Despite growing up with a fear of heights, sitting up in the balcony of her high-rise apartment, it was easy for (Y/N) to luxuriate in the thin air and clear out her brain for even a moment. 

She was going to get through today. Even if she is photographed today, if she receives an intrusive letter, if another story is spun dragging her name through the rain and mud, she was going to make it through. Besides, she loved going to Fifth Ave; the fashion houses were her second home in the city. She couldn't back out on them now, not when her stylist pulled rank and ensured she would have a private fitting at Vivienne Westwood and a tour across an archive of Dior jewelry just for her. 

(Y/N) was just going to have to trust the opinion of sales people who worked on commission and were too scared to look her in the eye half the time. To be fair, they hadn't steered her wrong just yet, even if they never really looked at the way the garments fit her, just because that would require a longer than a single second glance at her. 

Taking in a deep breath, (Y/N) reminded herself: she was going to get through today. 

A buzz in her hand alerted her, taking her from the skyline and back to her phone. 

Sully👑

      I'm here and ready whenever you are.

At least she would get to see Sully this morning. It was always a good day when he was there to ground her. 

Trekking through the building, (Y/N) gave her usual smile to the uninterested doormen and avoided eye contact with the man who was tapping away aimlessly on his phone, another person waiting to be buzzed up, she was sure. 

Peering through the glass doors, she saw the SUV on the curb, Sully having made his way to sit just outside the entrance. He was stationed outside the car, his hand poised on the door handle to help her in. Even with the deep tint on the windows, she was sure Harry was waiting inside. A silhouette with too nice of a profile to be wasted on a security detail.

Sully's features softened into a grin when he saw her step outside of her building, his usual all black attire just as immaculately pressed as always. "Good morning, Ms. (Y/N)," he greeted, hand on the door to pull it open for her. 

"Morning, Sully," (Y/N) reciprocated, the long form of her cardigan fluttering behind her. 

Just as she suspected, Harry was waiting patiently on the bench seat of the SUV when Sully pulled the door open. He didn't look up as she slipped inside, crossing her legs once the seatbelt was secured across her form. 

"Good morning, Harry," she murmured in the quiet of the leather interior.

Glancing up at her from where he had been tapping away on his phone, Harry took her in in a brief sweep over her form. He brought his knuckle up to his nose, brushing underneath the tip. "Good morning." 

The sound of Sully's door slamming shut brought (Y/N)'s attention forward from where she was stuck on the flickering green of Harry's eyes. "Now to Ms. Francesca's apartment?" 

"No, actually," (Y/N) clarified, shifting in her seat, "Franny's mom is coming into the city today so she had to cancel." 

"Oh no," Sully genuinely pouted at her through the rearview mirror, eyes meeting hers, "I'm sorry, (Y/N). Straight to Fifth Ave, then?" 

"Yes, that's perfect," (Y/N) chirped, feeling Harry's gaze on her through the interaction, never once did the shift to Sully. "Vivienne first, please. Dior after." 

"Got it." 

Pulling away from the curb, Sully was the expert driver he always was, slipping them seamlessly into the traffic without so much as a jostle over the pavement. Cars were slow moving at this time in the morning, but she knew he would make quick work of the distance. 

"Jus' us today?" Harry piped up, his voice a low gravel that had (Y/N) pulling her gaze on her nails to land on him. 

Swallowing, she nodded. "Yeah. If you don't want to sit through all the dress stuff, though, I'm sure Sully can take you elsewhere while I'm busy. I can just let you know when I'm ready to move to the next spot." 

No hesitation before he spoke again: "No, thank you. I'll be staying with you." 

She didn't expect any other answer if she was being honest, but it was the polite thing to ask. 

With no room to argue, (Y/N) fell silent, leaving just the sound of distant car honks and the light radio melodies playing. The route to the Vivienne Westwood location on Fifth Ave was a familiar one, even with the traffic and swerving drivers it didn't seem so long from where (Y/N) sat. She gazed out the tinted windows, the world looking just a little bit blue. People in too high of heels to be walking on the crumbling sidewalks with brand name shopping bags tucked under their arms were blurs beside her as Sully toured them through the city, 

The car slowed when the storefront came into view, the elegant font of Vivienne's name bold over the crystal windows. 

Sully sent them off after helping (Y/N) onto the concrete, promising to return as soon as he received word that she was ready to move on. Harry was her silent shadow as she stepped over the sidewalk like a runway. The mannequins in the windows were corseted and perfect, standing on thick platforms with sparkling jewelry. An effortless smile stretched across her lips as she pushed the door open, the brassy golden handle warm under her palm from the New York heat. 

Her heels were muffled as she stepped over the eccentric carpet. (Y/N) swore she could breathe just a bit easier in here. Many of the shops along this Avenue were the closest thing to being at home, especially when she was growing up and itching to do anything but be at home with her parents. She had an abundance of nice memories tied to these stores and brands; summers spent with Francesca and a credit card, impromptu fashion shows with pieces that wouldn't go together on a runway. While there were more than a couple of workers that became annoyed with them after only a few minutes of the duo walking into the shops, these places were the easiest escape. 

Sweeping her gaze across the shop, she took in the elaborately dressed mannequins and clean shelving. Everything was lit up on display, highlighting the contrasting colors and the punk-inspired pieces that gave Ms. Westwood her name. Racks and displays were scattered throughout, leading the walkways like a twirling river of black and white streaks. (Y/N) gravitated towards the racks with the signature structured corsets of the Westwood brand, draping fabrics and glimmering pearls. 

The entire space was quiet, her stylist—Dom—having made his calls and ensured the space would be free of any other shoppers while (Y/N) was getting her fitting done. (He was a little paranoid when it came to others leaking looks and style choices when it came to events like this Gala. It had happened once a few years earlier with a different client, and he seemed to have never forgotten). That left the entire morning free for (Y/N) to try on all of the imported pieces they had picked from the archives and Harry to brood around her like a temperamental potted plant. 

It didn't take long for a familiar head of coiffed blonde hair to appear around the corner of a jewelry case. A too-white, too-straight, too-perfect smile was plastered across his face—the kind of smile (Y/N) was halfway sure was fake, but that was just commission-based customer service. 

"Will!" (Y/N) greeted with a matching smile, breaking the ice as she turned on her heel to face him fully.

"(Y/N)! How are you, my love?" Will bubbled, posh accent wrapping around her name. He was adorned in his usual all black suit, velvet accents lined throughout. The length of the flared pants made him look that much taller, long limbs strong. The classic Vivienne Westwood pendant had been refashioned into a broach he pinned to his lapel, chains falling from around the Saturn that glimmered like the gunmetal manicure on his fingers. Something shimmery rained over his eyelids, just punk enough to fit Vivienne but high class enough to please those that guarded Fifth Ave like a dragon's treasure. 

When Will approached her, hands delicately held out with his lips puckered, she didn't hesitate to turn her cheek and indulge in the air kisses he always made a fuss about. Though it made her cringe, like one of those girls she knew in private school that spent the summer abroad and suddenly started speaking in an accent and bringing up their travels at any given moment, she enthusiastically partook in the greeting. 

Best behavior was required in shops like this, the associates tending to be some of the worst gossips and best storytellings in the city. If she was anything but perfect, with the way the media was already latched onto her, it wouldn't take much convincing for someone like Will to sell a story to any publication. 

"I'm doing so well now! I was hoping I'd be paired with you for my appointment." 

He waved her off with an incredulous face. "Well, of course they'd pick me. They only give you the best, hunny!" 

A round of laughter erupted between them, something that sounded just as fake as it felt in her throat. Harry was notably quiet, watching everything unfold. He didn't bother to try and step in to introduce himself, observing as always. 

"Come, come," Will gestured, inching towards the grand fitting room plotted in the back of the shop, "All of these gorgeous archive pieces made it in last night, just for you! I shouldn't be surprised, you and Dom have such wonderful taste, but I just love to see it, really." 

Will chattered to her as he escorted them through, bubbling about how excited he was to show her the garments as well as see them on her. While she knew a portion of his personality was a customer service front, he was one of her favorites here. He was more positive than uppity, unlike most of the other sales people she'd run into during her time perusing this street. 

Making it to the large fitting room in the back, (Y/N) immediately spotted the white garment bags hanging from the single stall. It was a large room that could have easily fit in stall after stall, but instead was used as a luxury space for only a single patron. Plush carpeting was installed under their feet, black lightning bolts breaking up the creamy white. A shimmering chandelier hung above the circular dais situated in front of the three-sectioned mirror on the far end of the room, crystals dripping from the wrought iron branches almost low enough to graze the head of the person standing on the dais. Cozy chairs were pushed throughout, the space anticipating guests, along with the tray of champagne glasses and a chilled bottle awaiting serving. 

Finding a pause in the chattering, (Y/N) asked, "Are any of the girls helping today, or is it just us?" 

"Just us!" Will chirped, carefully uncorking the bottle of frosty champagne, "Dom made it especially clear that he didn't want anyone unnecessary to be here; he said he wanted to make sure no one could leak anything." 

"Sounds like Dom," (Y/N) sighed with an affectionate smile, dropping her purse onto one of the houndstooth printed armchairs. 

Harry found his own chair silently, sinking into the cushioning though he didn't seem to relax much at all. His gaze stayed alert, looking around the entire space—probably looking for any cracks as if a supervillain could swing through the drywall and take her captive. Or, anything (Y/N) could damage should she finally snap in his presence.

She wondered what he thought, not three weeks into the job without a single tantrum that she knew her father had prepared him for. Hopefully she was showing she wasn't as much of a problem as her father was convinced. 

Shrugging out of her cardigan, (Y/N) caught the way Will eyed Harry. He swept his gaze over, analyzing the same way Harry analyzed everything else. 

"But, I see you brought a friend," he tittered, looking at her with that sly gaze. Harry didn't even flinch at the first acknowledgment of his presence. 

Keeping her demeanor perky and bright, (Y/N) made a point to look confident—but not too proud. She didn't want to look like she was showing off a significant other, so she couldn't smile too much, but she still had to smile just enough not to look shy or smitten. She didn't want to give Will any reason to describe her as being "bashful, over the moon for her new man". 

"Yes, that's Harry," she gestured to him, Harry barely offered a small smile when he took a second to look in their direction, "He's my bodyguard" 

"Bodyguard?" Will asked, blonde brow raised in an arch. 

Sighing, (Y/N) politely took the offered glass of bubbling champagne from Will's hand. "You know how it goes sometimes," she started, sipping delicately from the flute for a chance to pause, "Photographers have been a little crazy lately, so I figured I might need a little extra help." 

"Oh I'm sure," Will bubbled, looking at her with a furrowed brow feigning concern, "With everything that's happened with Damien, I bet those paparazzi can't get enough of you." 

He eyed her the same way he eyed Harry, as if there were details he could glean from her with just a glance. He was hoping she would spill, give him something to whisper over. 

Shrugging it off as nonchalantly as possible, she took another careful sip of her champagne. "Anything for a photo, you know," she said, rolling her eyes as if being hounded for personal information and photos of intimate moments was nothing more than an inconvenience. "But!" she perked up, popping her hip with a spark to her voice, "I want to see what Dom picked out for us!" 

Hooked by her excitement, Will caught the giddy way she talked and reacted with his own enthusiasm. "Okay, okay, sit down and close your eyes," he instructed, waving her back into her spot, "Because, you are going to freak." 

Doing as asked, (Y/N) settled into her seat with her eyes fluttering closed. She could hear Will padding away, leaving her with just Harry though if she hadn't already known he was there, she would have assumed the complete silence meant she was alone. She couldn't imagine being so quiet all the time, alert and scrutinizing. She wished she knew what was going on in his brain. 

The zip of garment bags and rustling of fabric drew closer as the time ticked on another minute. With the way her heart peaked, her giddiness was no longer an act. This is the stuff that made these events worth it for her; she loved playing dress up as a girl, and this was just the same but even prettier, in her mind. She could pretend to be a real princess this way. 

"Okay"—a pause for dramatic effect—"open," Will said, a smile clear in his voice. 

Blinking her eyes open, (Y/N) saw the flash of pearl pink laid hanging in front of her. Will held the padded hanger up for her to take in the entire gown, his free arm behind the skirt to help put it on display under the light. The fabric looked like liquid pearl, tinted in a pastel, cool pink that glimmered with a golden sheen in the light. It shifted before her eyes, showing shades of silver and purple, metallic and pearl. A blend of everything pretty in the world, (Y/N) decided. The top was the signature corset that she loved from the Westwood designs, the neckline featuring a deep scoop to show off her chest, structured and tight. The skirt was a length that would drag behind (Y/N) as she walked, draping down from the corset with a thigh high slit up the side. The sleeves to hold it up were nothing but a three-tiered string of pearls, each loop bigger than the last to rest lower and lower on her arms when she put it on. 

While there was a small collection of garment bags hanging up behind Will, (Y/N) couldn't imagine looking at another gown after this. It was too beautiful—the perfect personification of her thoughts that she had jumbled together to Dom during a late night FaceTime. She couldn't have ever imagined her scattered thoughts coming together enough for him to know exactly what dress from the Westwood archive to request for her. 

But, this was exactly it. 

She almost felt as though she needed to wait, to make sure it didn't just melt off of the hanger and drip onto the floor. She wanted to ensure it was real before she became too excited.

"Dom picked a couple from the archive and a few from the most recent runway, but this is my favorite," Will told her, his tone conspiratorial like he was sharing a secret just for her, "I think it would look gorgeous with your coloring, too. And, I know you're a pearl girl, so." 

Standing from her seat, she abandoned her glass of champagne on the side table. She was sure her eyes were too wide on her face, taking in all of the gown as if it would disappear if she blinked too long. 

"Are you kidding?!" she bubbled, "I love this! I almost don't want to see the others, I love this so much." 

Will shook his head immediately. "No, no, no, we're playing Barbie today, you're still trying on the others. But, I'm happy we're on the same page with this one." 

In a split second, (Y/N) saw something flourish in Will's eyes. The corner of his lips quirked up, too sly of a curl to be innocent. He turned towards Harry, showing off the dress just as grandly as he did for her. 

"What do you think, Harry? This would look gorgeous on her, don't you think?" 

Harry, the master of nonchalance and being chronically unbothered, barely batted an eye when Will caught his attention. If not for the fact (Y/N) knew who he was and what his job entailed, she would have thought he was one of those people from Williamsburg, where it was cool to be uncaring. Fortunately, she knew he genuinely couldn't care less about what was going on in this fitting room as long as (Y/N) wasn't being assaulted or causing property damage.

His eyes fell over the gown, sweeping over the details in that scrutinizing way he always looked at his surroundings. "It looks nice, yeah. I don't know much about this kind of stuff, but 'm sure it would look nice on her." 

A beat passed. Will waited for more, waited for his digging expedition to come up with results. Harry only blinked. 

"Okay, well!" Will moved on, smile a touch stiff. He turned towards (Y/N) with those same bright eyes. "Let's get you all tied up into this, and then we'll see for sure."

(Y/N) eagerly allowed Will to usher her through the door to the changing stall, eyes flitting to the dress as soon as she could spot it in the mirror. He didn't waste a second before he started chattering to her about some drama that apparently happened when the garments were dropped off the night before, trivial things that were embellished for the sake of getting her to laugh. (Y/N) wanted to say she listened intently, enjoying the way he prattled on and told the story as if it were a myth, but she honestly couldn't spread her attention between him and the dress that was beginning to swath around her body. 

Her day clothes were dropped to the floor at her feet, leaving her in undergarments before Will helped her into the dress, the corset stiff with the boning straightening out her spine. The beginnings of the look came together before her eyes, the fabric forming around her body the tighter the corset was zipped. The skirt seemed to be dripping off of her body the way it moved under the light, molten and sticky. With the slit opening up as high as her hip, the pearl glimmer stood out against her skin. Will helped her push the straps of her bra down, sliding them into the sides of the corset to make it look that much more real. 

Times like these were the only moments (Y/N) felt as if she could be photographed—wanted to be spotted. She loved dressing up, she loved feeling pretty in her skin, she loved these kinds of special moments. It never got old to her, feeling the glide of silky fabrics on her skin, the glimmer against her skin tone, looking like the princesses she used to idolize when she was a kid. 

Twisting and twirling in the mirror, (Y/N) could feel the smile curling on her lips. 

"Well, what did I tell you?!" Will beamed, standing back in the mirror to meet her eyes in the glass, "Better than the runway, my love!" 

"You're so sweet," she told him, a pout on her lips as she matched his eyes in the mirror, "Thank you." 

"Let's go look in the big mirror, see it from all the angles," Will prompted, reaching his hand out to help her step off the circular, raised platform in the dressing room. 

(Y/N) followed him through the door, letting him take her to the three panel mirror at the head of the room. He held the skirt for her as she stepped onto the platform, her feet chilled through her socks once she was steady. He fanned the gown around her, the split showing off the stretch of her bare thigh. She stood tall with her posture corrected with the corset, but the confident tip of her chin had everything to do with the way she felt in the dress. 

Running her hands over the fabric, she followed the ripples in the pearl with her eyes. Seeing herself like this, she didn't care what her dad had to say about her, the tabloids, or the rumors. She liked what she saw in the mirror, and that was enough. 

"Do a spin, look at the back," Will instructed, hands clasped together with his own smile beaming on his features. When (Y/N) did as much, showing off the deep dip in the back that showcased the planes of her back and the seamless lines of the corset, his smile only widened. "Classic Vivienne," he murmured, impressed as if it were his own work, "What are you thinking for your hair?" 

Using her hands to loosely emulate the idea she currently had in her head, (Y/N) craned her neck as she looked in the mirror. "I'm not sure yet, but I think Dom had something vintage in mind. Big and drape-y to show off the dress, but I haven't talked to my hair stylist yet." 

"Jewelry?" Will asked, circling around her as if appraising a diamond.

(Y/N) launched into a description of what she and her stylist were thinking, imagining the Dior pieces glimmering against her skin and the way her hair would tickle her collarbone when she turned her head. She could already see the set of pearly nails that were going to be on her fingers, the tiny bag that she was planning on hanging from her elbow the whole night. Her bare feet shifted to be sheathed in the perfect pair of Manolo's she knew Dom was going to insist she wear to go along with the gown. 

Everything came together with each twist and turn of her body in the mirror, pearls and crystals sparkling in her mind.

Will chatted away to her, telling her something about how the skirt could be altered to lower the slit (something she was not interested in doing, honestly) and how glimmering crystals could be added here and there. She offered him a bubbly smile in the mirror, nodding along, though she might have been a little too absorbed with the way she felt in the gown to be paying any real attention. 

In the mirror, with a twist to show off the back once more, (Y/N) caught sight of Harry. Just as usual, he looked at her with those ever-observant eyes. Even from the distance he was sitting away in the long room, she knew he was watching everything. 

This time, though, he sat with his elbows crossed over his knees, leaning forward as if he couldn't see enough. A furrow of his brow shaded his eyes. Though he tended to keep his eyes latched to her anyway, he looked earnest this time; like there was more he was trying to find before him. 

(Y/N) swallowed. He hadn't even realized she was looking at him, she didn't think, at least with the way he didn't shy away when she found him staring. Or, he just didn't care. 

Maybe, she could argue, he found Will as a possible threat being so close and so touchy with her. That was his job anyway, see those kinds of possibilities where she normally wouldn't. And, he took his job seriously. 

"I know we've pretty much picked already, but let's take a picture and try on the others," Will propositioned, pulling her out of her head, "We'll send them to Dom and see what he thinks, right?" 

With a flutter of her lashes and her gaze disengaging with Harry's form, she straightened her falling smile. "Right! My phone's over there, if you want to take the pictures really quick!" 

With her phone in hand, Will began snapping photos of her, (Y/N) posing and smiling with every angle on display for her stylist to analyze later. The moment erupted into giggles as the posing became more ridiculous, Will fueling her with the ways he angled her phone and goaded her to get more and more wild. 

All the while, (Y/N) could feel Harry's eyes on her. 

She found she didn't mind having his eyes on her. 

—————

In front of him, (Y/N) twirled and twisted while her friend took photos of her. Harry watched the whole time, cataloguing the way the dress formed around her body, the silk sliding over her skin and glimmering under the light. 

Harry's chest felt tight. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. 

She looked gorgeous.

In the front of his mind, he knew well that he would do better to be paying attention to their surroundings, watching her friend's hands, anything that actually pertained to his job. 

But, he didn't. Instead, he watched his client. Even when she caught him.

—————

"Yes, sir, we're on the way." 

Harry's voice was gruff and low as he spoke on the phone, (Y/N) listening in from where she sat next to him in the SUV. She played with the slowly dulling edges of her nails, pretending as if she had no idea as to what her dad was saying and asking on the phone to Harry. 

She pretended not to catch the way he glanced at her from the corner of her eye, his gaze sweeping over her form before he was facing forward once more. "Yes, sir—she's dressed appropriately." 

(Y/N) had to tune it out then. She didn't care to hear more of the checklist Harry had to go through in order to approve her walking out of the house. She felt more than exposed; under a microscope with everyone awaiting her downfall. 

Not soon enough, it seemed the end of the phone call was finally nearing. Harry shifted in his seat as he spoke, giving a time estimate to their arrival before a mild "See you soon." left his lips and the call ended. 

Biting back a sigh, (Y/N) sunk into her own seat that much more. 

Of course, her father would call Harry over his actual daughter. She couldn't be trusted to give honest answers, obviously. Some days she felt disappointed over the way he acted with her, other days saddened for the little girl inside of her that ached for her parent's love, but days like this brought anger to the surface. She couldn't fathom how important he must think he was to believe he could speak to and about her the way he did.

Though the thought of looking at—let alone speaking to—him today was making her more than annoyed, she was already on her way to the country club and she couldn't back out now. At least she could eat as much as she wanted and buy just as many drinks all on her father's card.

He was going to be way too enthralled with his stupid country club friends—and Harry—to even acknowledge her, anyway. Whenever she was invited to see him on the green, she was meant to be nothing more than a pretty accessory, to show that he was a family man too, not just a ruthless businessman. She was there to be gazed upon by men way too old and way too married to be looking at her the way they did, but that was part of the reason she was called upon.

By the time the structure of the gated country club came into view, (Y/N) was already reading through the familiar menu in her head. She was going to buy the entire patio a round of drinks, she decided. Maybe even two rounds. 

Going through the gates, Sully pulled them to the front of the building. The golf course stretched for miles around the main building, perfectly green and manicured, gorgeously maintained attractions throughout the holes with fountains and elaborate sand traps. The perfect kind of course for people with too much money and not enough actual understanding of the game. Around the back were the tennis courts and pool, everything warm blues with mosaic tiles, waitstaff crawling all over the place to tend to every whim of the clientele.

The bistro was her father's favorite part, though. That was where the whiskey was served.

He only pretended to care about golf just so he could laze around the club and smoke cigars in the afternoon and drink whiskey with people too stupid to realize he only saw them as dollar signs. 

She could only hope he'd already had a chance to drink this morning with his friends, leaving him too sloppy to care if she snuck off to play some tennis or out to the koi pond in the garden. Maybe, Harry would even become too distracted with her father, too wrapped up in the schmoozing and drinks and promises, to follow her out. Maybe she could get a real chance to be alone this afternoon. 

Sully helped (Y/N) out of the car as Harry waited for her on the walkway, the grand building behind him full of warm woods and golden fixtures. Large glass windows almost filling the complete space of the walls showcased the inside of the villa, the view only obstructed from the amount of greenery planted outside, tall bushy trees and manicured hedges acting as shades. 

Keeping her tennis skirt from riding up her thighs, she used Sully's hand to steady her as she stepped onto the stone walkway. 

"Thank you," she told him, voice quiet compared to the nature-esque sounds that came from the club and the various activities others were partaking in. 

Sully nodded at her, gentle smile on his cheeks. "I'll be back soon. Do you want me to wait for your father's cue or yours?" 

"Mine," she answered immediately. If it were up to her father, she'd spend the entire evening here with no end in sight. It would probably turn into some unwanted date with a random man he thought would be good for her.

Sully's smile was understanding as he nodded to her. "I'll be here as soon as you need me." 

With that, she shared her goodbyes with her driver before joining Harry at his silent post a few feet ahead of her. He barely glanced at her before he started leading her into the club, opening the door for her to step ahead. He once again took the helm as he led her through the country club, (Y/N) standing back in favor of lagging behind. He might not know the club as well as she, but he at least knew where her father was expecting to meet them. This way, he would be the first person they saw, as well; that could buy her a couple extra seconds of being off before slipping into her role. 

Walking into the Bistro, (Y/N) was greeted with the familiar smile of the waitstaff that knew her well. They didn't stop them as she gave a small wave, already assuming she was there to meet her father at the most boisterous table in the restaurant.

It was easy to spot him in the otherwise polite eatery, other patrons quietly dining with fresh tans or aching sunburns from the time outside. Sidelong glances were sent in the way of her father's table, some envious, others annoyed. She could deeply relate to those who were fed up with his noise. He was always much more bothersome after a few drinks. 

Men gathered around him, clustered around his small table. (Y/N) recognized most of them. Some of them elicited a stiffening in her spine, her guard going up the much further in case their eyes wandered too close to her, others she knew as investors he most likely originally meant to meet here, and some she didn't know at all. It was still easy to suss them out, anyway; it was the giddy smiles on their faces and the way they barely drank, that showed they were people who had been fighting to be invited to the table and were way too excited to be in such a close orbit to her father and his friends. Gullible, the only way to describe them. 

Twisting her Cartier bracelet around her wrist, (Y/N) tipped her chin with faux-confidence and plastered her tabloid-famous smile the second they stepped into the dining area. Harry was still in the lead, glancing at her over his shoulder once he also spotted their intended table. 

Her smile didn't waver, ensuring he didn't catch any kind of reaction that could be relayed to her father. 

The second her father turned to face them, stopping his conversation short, she knew the whiskey in his hand was not the first of the day. His eyes were glazed and warm, less scrutinizing but still nowhere near kind. 

He lit up when he registered Harry's presence. "There he is!" her father shouted across the restaurant, a waiter's steps faltering at the outburst. 

Stepping just out from behind Harry, (Y/N) noticed the way her father's gaze didn't deter from her bodyguard; a man he had met for the first time only a few weeks prior. In some ways, she was relieved to be ignored—it was easier this way, she knew—but other parts of herself were sore from the sting of being nothing worth noting to her dad. 

Harry gave a small wave, still a touch too far away to give his own greeting back. At least he was being courteous of the other diners. 

"This is the Harry I was telling you all about," her father continued, much too loud for the space though no one corrected him, "He's my daughter's handler." 

Noises of recognition rattled around the table, some pretending, others giving knowing smiles. (Y/N) didn't dare to think about the stories he shared about her and Harry. He would no doubt be painted as a shining knight, clean and unwavering in control, while she would be left to be the troll of the story, the one being needing to be controlled. 

Once they were near enough, those surrounding the table stood to introduce themselves to Harry, offering hands to shake and exchanging pleasantries. Harry took it in stride, his deep voice sticking out from the too-excited greetings of the others. 

(Y/N) stood quietly behind. She could feel a pair of eyes or two falling upon her, but she was largely ignored in favor of Harry. 

It's better this way, she reminded herself. None of these men's attention was worth it. 

Feeling more like decor than a person, (Y/N) stood and watched as Harry was roped into the conversation, even taking a seat her father pulled up. All the while, her father sang Harry's praises, a hand clasped over his shoulder. Harry was just so smart, and qualified, level-headed and strong. (Y/N) had been so much better-behaved even—she might even be ready to be a wife instead of running around the city with her friends. Who knew it was a babysitter his wild child needed to finally calm down; another man to tell her what to do. 

That comment made her smile dip. She hoped no one noticed. 

The table erupted into laughter at his comment, jovially agreeing as if she wasn't standing right there. Harry was the only one to look at her from over his shoulder, a smile notably missing from his lips. He matched her eyes for a lingering moment before he dropped his gaze.

"Right," he said once he rejoined the conversation, the word missing the same enthusiasm the rest of the table held.

She stood for a moment longer, listening in as she fiddled with her bracelet, before she started inching away. "I'm going to go," she mumbled, noting the way no one seemed to look in her direction but Harry, "Probably get food or something." 

(Y/N) turned on her heel then, half expecting Harry to follow, though she was sure the bigger priority was to stay with her father than continue babysitting her. She could feel the eyes of other patrons on her as she left the table, but she didn't stop to reconsider before she was slipping out through the backdoor. 

The patio was bathed in bright sunlight, country club members lounging in the warmth with cocktails in hand while waitstaff meandered through the wrought iron tables. She didn't pay anyone any mind as she made her way through, giving smiles to those she made eye contact with before glancing away in favor of making as small of an impression as possible. Though it was generally frowned upon by the club to exploit its high profile members with covert photos or posting any details about the dealings within, that didn't mean it didn't happen. She knew more than a few times stories of her time at the club had been leaked to the press along with blurry photos, and she definitely didn't want that to happen again today with the way her father was shouting her business across the entire dining room inside. 

Stepping off the stone patio, she made her way towards the gardens. A short hedge "maze" made most of the garden, leading her through with flowers littered around the space, small fountains, and a koi pond glittering in the center. Other than the tennis courts, this was her favorite space at the club. 

The scent of the vibrant flowers beckoned to her, drawing her into the mini maze. A small smile took over her features, reaching out to caress the soft petals of the blooming roses. Fluffy bumble bees flittered between the blossoms, their tiny bodies covered in pollen as they went to each plant. A soft buzz filled the air as she walked, her careful footsteps over the plush grass adding to the delicate noise. It was easy to block out the rest of the commotion like this; the thumps from the tennis court, splashes from the pools, and the chatter from the patio all melted away. Trickling from the tiny waterfall fountains led her closer and closer to the center. 

Zagging through the maze, she felt the sun warming her shoulders around the straps of her tank top. That same warmth seeped through to her bloodstream, floating her to the clouds just a little bit. 

This was the first time she'd been out without Harry at her side. She'd almost forgotten what that felt like. 

To be fair, she was beginning to get used to the feeling of having an extra shadow following her everywhere she went. That unsettling edge she had tied to having a security detail had begun to dull, finally. She didn't completely mind knowing that someone had eyes on her at all times, whether he was checking for her safety or for her bad behavior to peak. It wasn't something she would consider a normal feeling yet, but she could get there.

Hopefully, though, she wouldn't have enough time to get used to him. Hopefully, he'd be relieved of his post before she got that far. 

With the lack of stories being printed about her, she even hoped that her father would grant her freedom sooner rather than later. The only things she saw about herself tended to be things about her summer outfits, or analyses of her instagram posts. Nothing major had been posted since Damien. She had to be on the right track if rumors about her were losing traction.

Falling back down to earth, (Y/N) grounded herself as she gazed down into the koi pond. The concrete barrier was carved with roses, the reliefs matching the actual blooms coming through in the hedges. The fish were graceful pops of color in the clear water, bright calico coral tones shining under the sun. Lilly pads with tiny flowers floated on the surface, allowing the kois to move like ghosts underneath. This was her favorite spot in the gardens, making it easy for her to sink to her knees with her hands perched on the lip of the barrier and gaze down at the creatures. 

That childlike urge in her to reach out and pet the fish rose, wishing she could treat them like pets. (Y/N) almost wanted to laugh at herself with the way she had to remind herself to keep her hands to herself. 

Suddenly the sound of footsteps sounded through the maze. They were close enough (Y/N) could hear the quick pace, the purpose someone would have to have to breeze through the leisurely maze like that. 

For a split second, her muscles tensed, her lungs squeezed. Her first thought made her want to run. 

The letters. 

Whoever wrote them didn't want to hide anymore. They waited until she was alone like this. They could do and say anything they wanted here. No one would even know with the cover of the hedges. 

Her heart raced in her chest when they grew close enough (Y/N) swore she could hear the sound of the grass crushing under the intruder's feet. Her breath caught in her throat. 

She whipped her head around just in time to see someone breaking into the clearing.

It was Harry. 

He had a scowl on his face, shoulders tensed, and eyes hard. He stopped in his tracks when he saw her sitting there in the grass, legs folded underneath her. 

(Y/N)'s hand fluttered up to her throat, a sharp exhale leaving her lungs. It was just Harry, he reminded herself. 

"Jeez, you scared me so bad just now," she breathed, sinking from how hard she had been tensed in wait. 

"Sorry," he said, lips thin as he shifted his gaze to the koi pond behind her. 

Though he looked just as closed off as he usually did, his demeanor matching his dark clothing, there was a bit more of an edge to his aura. If she didn't know any better, (Y/N) would think he was angry. 

He heard her say she would be out back, she knew that. He couldn't be angry at her when he didn't follow her out of his own volition. Right?

A slight pinch knitted her brows together as she looked up at him. "Are... Is everything okay?" 

Not shifting his gaze from where he had landed them on the blooms of roses in the maze, he gave her a curt nod. "Yes." 

"Okay," she said, unsure of what else to offer in the quiet of the maze. Awkwardly, she rose to her feet, brushing nonexistent dirt from her tennis whites. 

A beat passed before (Y/N) turned to face him once more, finding his gaze already on her. "You can keep walking if you want. I didn't mean to interrupt you," he said, his voice low as if to match the buzz of the bees. 

"Are you sure?" she asked, still catching the storm in his eyes even if it had settled some. 

Only a single nod was given in response. 

With that, (Y/N) was the one to lead him through the maze. Harry was a welcome ghost behind her, silently following. He didn't complain with every lingering step between the blooms, didn't bother her as she felt the softened rose petals, didn't push her through in annoyance of the bees flying around their heads. 

The second half of the maze seemed to relax him from the way she saw his shoulders relax, his gaze softening the longer they spent away from everyone else. She almost wanted to take him back to the beginning when they finally finished, the end of the maze opening up to a stone walkway that split with two avenues. One took them back to the bistro's patio, the other to the golf courses. 

"Are you hungry?" 

After the quiet that followed them through the maze, Harry's voice was a shock. 

"Yeah, actually." (Y/N) answered after a beat.

"C'mon," Harry said, gesturing for her to follow after him as he started down the pathway rounding back to the restaurant. 

The patio was just as bustling as when she had slipped through earlier, the expansive windows allowing her to peek inside and find her father still holding court. Pushing through the small gate that separated the space, the waitstaff turned to look at them from the pinched creak the iron hinge gave. 

A familiar woman smiled from where she stood at the extra hosting podium stationed outside. "(Y/N)," she brightly greeted her, "Are you dining with us after all today?" 

A short glance was spared in Harry's direction before (Y/N) was nodding. "Yes, please. Thank you." 

The familiar hostess quickly seated them, menus and glasses of water left on the table. The waitress would be only a moment away, they were told. The service was always on the quick side whenever (Y/N) was here; they knew good and well who her father was, and the club loved a generous member. 

Harry was quiet as they were waited on, looking over the menu as if it were a textbook to study. He didn't even look up when the fair-haired waitress made her way to their table. She introduced herself as Carly, though (Y/N) already knew her well enough from the last handful of times she had been dragged here by her dad.

"Before we start, were you wanting to open up a separate tab today, Ms. (Y/N), or put today's meal on your father's?" she asked, her smile bubbly as she relayed the same question they always posed. 

"On her father's." 

Flicking her gaze from the waitress, she saw Harry still looking at his menu as if he hadn't just spoken. That storm had returned to his gaze, a pinch appearing between his brows. 

Carly was silent, looking between the two of them. 

"On my dad's tab, please," (Y/N) confirmed, offering a soft smile before the silence had time to settle for too long. 

"Perfect," Carly answered, writing down whatever message needed on the pad in her hand, "I'll give you guys a moment with the menu and come back and take your order. Sound good?" 

"Sounds good," (Y/N) answered for them both, perfect smile on her lips until their waitress stepped away. 

Silence settled between the two of them, Harry still focussed on his menu. Though it was a bit bold for Harry to assume they were going to be dining on her father's dime, she couldn't deny it was a little funny. That was her own plan after all, she just hadn't anticipated his vehement agreement. 

Soon enough, their waitress returned. "Had enough time?" she posed, reaching to her apron pocket for her notepad.

Glancing at Harry, she saw the small nod he gave. "I think so," (Y/N) answered, already familiar with the menu enough to not have to glance through. 

"Great," Carly chirped, pulling her notepad out, "Any drinks? Starters?" 

Before she had a chance to order her raspberry lemonade, Harry piped up, "A whiskey on the rocks, please. And, the coconut mango cocktail." 

There was a beat that passed as Carly wrote everything down. (Y/N) looked at him with raised brows. That was not at all what she had expected; wasn't he still on the clock?

For the first time, he glanced at her over his menu, something loaded in his eyes as he tipped his chin towards the leaflet with all the drink specials printed. 

"And, for you?" Carly asked, facing (Y/N). 

"Um," she fumbled, "Can I get a glass of Chardonnay please? And the raspberry lemonade." 

(Y/N) didn't plan on drinking her wine, but felt as if she needed to match Harry in the ordering process at least. 

"Alright, I will get all of that going for you, and I'll be back to take your lunch orders." With that, their waitress left, her notepad snapped shut and her gaze just a touch wary between them. 

(Y/N) couldn't blame her. 

A moment passed before (Y/N) dropped her menu to lay flat on the table. Harry looked up at her through his lashes. 

"Are you really going to drink all of that?" Honestly, she wondered what a drunk Harry would look like. 

"No," he deadpanned, "But your father is still going to pay for it whether I drink them or not." 

The smile that tugged on the corner of (Y/N)'s lips was something that she couldn't help. It was out of character for the person she thought Harry to be—a loyal follower of her dad—, but definitely something she would have (and has) done herself. 

"Right," she answered, gaze shifting to the menu in search of the most expensive items she could spot. 

Maybe, Harry was closer to being on the same page as her than she thought.

—————

"Thank you, Carly," (Y/N) said as she signed the check, quickly passing it back to their server. 

"Of course," Carly beamed. Her smile only widened when she saw the three digit tip on the line for her. "Thank you, Ms. (Y/N)." 

(Y/N) didn't linger then, knowing Sully was up front waiting for them to be taken home. "Ready?" she asked Harry as she stood from her chair. 

"Ready," he answered, much more relaxed than at the beginning of their meal. 

Ignoring her father, (Y/N) left the bistro behind. He probably didn't even remember inviting her out for the day. It didn't matter, though, she thought. 

He'd remember the three extra appetizers and handful of drinks left untouched on their table.

—————

rêvasser is to daydream in french.

I know it's a little light on harry at the start of this story but more exciting stuff is coming!!!!! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if you have any fun ideas or anything please let me know !

[airbendertendou]

WANNA SEE YOU SHINE! ♥︎ suzaki ryo

synopsis : purge au , ryo isn't quite how you remember him to be. but, he's always kind to you. this was highly inspired by @seijorhi 's tokyo revengers piece!

content warning : a purge au so this is a darker one , murder , gore , gross comments , unwanted gestures / comments , reader is in horrible company , Peach is a made-up character , inevitable death [not related to the reader] , kinda yandere-ish ,

song inspo ; stargirl interlude by the weeknd ft lana del rey

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked. Keep reading

Sweat drips down your forehead as you reshelve the food you’d been asked to. Taking a deep breath, you peek at the clock — only three more hours until closing. You closed early today, of course. 

When the clock struck seven today, the world would no longer be safe.

The door opens with a ding, causing you to stop what you were doing and welcome the customer in. It was a group, all casually chatting while looking for snacks. You stand straight and prepare to greet them — your voice catches in your throat. Something about the last person seems so familiar ; so welcoming to you.

A girl with orange hair spots you and turns your way. “You work here, right?” You nod, peeling your eyes away from the red coat and shoulder length hair. She grins, “great! Can you guide me to the chocolate aisle?”

At her words, the rest of the group turns to face you. You lead the way, showing her your preferred sweets and answering questions with a practiced smile. The group disperses, leaving to do their own thing. That comforting, familiar face is standing in front of you now, waiting for your attention to be solely on him.

“Suzaki,” you say. “Suzaki Ryo. You’re back.”

His dull, unchanging face contorts into a soft smile at your words. Eyes travel down your tired, overworked form — you adjust and clear your throat in embarrassment. His smile falls, “are you alright, [name]?”

Words leave your mind at the sound of his voice. It’d been so long — so many years had passed since you last heard his voice. He calls your name once more, eyes drooping into a worried gaze. You shift on your feet, “um, I’m okay. Everyone’s preparing for tonight, you know?”

“Tonight?” Ryo tilts his head before nodding slowly. “The Purge they call it, right?” You nod, fingers intertwining and locking your mind onto something else. He smiles at your habit, remembering the times before when you’d act that way, too. “You’ll be safe tonight, won’t you?”

“I’ll be with Peach,” you admit. Your nose crinkles in distaste before you smooth your face out, plastering on your customer service smile instead. “I think we’re staying with Amagi this year. You still talk, right? You’ll be there?”

Ryo’s eyes narrow at the names. Peach — your old friend who would always take advantage of you. Amagi — his old friend who used him tirelessly. They were quite the match ; Suzaki’s beyond surprised it took them this long to get together. “Sure,” he hides his thoughts with a smile, “I’ll be there.”

Your conversation is interrupted by his group as they push their way between you. One guy with blue highlights shoves you to the side thoughtlessly — you don’t see the glare Ryo sends his way. Clearing your throat again, you lead them to the register to check them out. 

Ryo lingers outside as his friends leave, his eyes watching as you get back to work quickly. Calloused, blistered hands scrub at the counter endlessly before you’re quickly sweeping the floor. You go to clean the window when you meet his gaze — Ryo only waves before turning to leave.

Poor thing, he thinks to himself. You’re working yourself to the bone just to survive. Not anymore, he reassures himself. You won’t have to tire yourself out anymore. I’ll take care of you.

——♥︎——

Shoveling pieces of clothing into your overnight bag, you think back to earlier, when Ryo walked into the convenience store. Seeing him again was strange ; exciting and overwhelming at the same time. Last you heard, Ryo and his dad moved overseas for better opportunities. 

That wasn’t true. His father worked himself to death, so Ryo ran. It was no coincidence he popped back up on Purge day. 

You knew Amagi and Peach would have all anyone would need in their mansion. However, the thought of using their things and therefore owing them— it made you nauseous. 

Taking a deep breath, you mentally prepare yourself. You’d be surrounded by rich, entitled assholes for twelve ongoing hours while trusting their security system would keep you safe. At one point, they would irritate you so bad that you’d want to take your chance with the streets. 

Suzaki will be there, you remind yourself. If Suzaki is there, I won’t be alone.

——♥︎——

The Amagi mansion greets you, hiding in the woods just out of reach of the street. Cars are empty from the road, hidden in garages and who knows where else for the upcoming night. It’s almost seven, so you need to rush ; need to hurry inside before the door is locked for good. Peach’s laughter echoes onto the street — you grimace and force yourself to step inside. 

“COMMENCING THE SIREN, ANY AND ALL CRIME, INCLUDING MURDER, WILL BE LEGAL FOR TWELVE CONTINUOUS HOURS.”

Sirens hit the empty street, the world pausing as people prepare for the worst. You swallow, ignoring the champagne that was offered to you. Even with laws intact, you’d refuse any drink coming from this group. 

“How dull,” a voice interrupts the silence. Amagi leans forward on his lavish sofa, watching the wall of monitors he had installed. “No one’s screaming yet. Did they not hear the announcement?”

Another reason you didn’t want to stay here — the Purge was used for their own amusement. While the group you were in would never dare to participate — they wouldn’t survive — watching others slaughter each other was their monthly entertainment. 

Peach sighs, “the hour just started, honey. It might take a while.” She rubs his shoulder, leaning her lips close to her ear to whisper to him. You can see her tongue peak out and lap against his ear — you hold back the urge to gag and look away in disgust.

Ryo is absent from the house — he’s not coming, you discover. He hadn’t shown up at all ; no one mentioned him coming by. It makes you uncomfortable ; makes your throat itch at the thought of them possibly leaving him on the streets to die.

You glance at Amagi’s sleazy grin as Peach rubs the inside of his thigh. “I saw Suzaki today. Did you know he was back?”

“That loser really came back?” Amagi all but shoves Peach away, murky eyes staring into yours. A snarl curls his lips as they tremble — with laughter or anger, you don’t know. “Pathetic. Thought he’d die off by now.”

You always wondered what happened between them. Up until high school, Ryo would follow Amagi endlessly. And then, one day, he was gone. Amagi would only spit out how much he hated the boy ; how he wished a miserable and lifeless future for his former friend. He never told Peach — even with the endless nights between them both.

Back then, Ryo came to say goodbye to you. He looked exhausted, bags puffed under his eyes and his nails chewed down to the cuticle. A gash was wrapped around his wrist — you cleaned it as his puppy eyes stared at you.

“You’re leaving.”

“I need to,” Ryo says. His voice is soft ; throaty as if he’d been screaming for hours. He closes his hand into a fist, flexing and moving his fingers to see how injured his wrist was. His gaze meets yours, “I’ll be back.”

One of Peach’s friends offers you a drink, bringing you back to reality again. You take it, just so they would stop shoving it your way. You wouldn’t take even a tiny sip, instead pouring small amounts into someone else’s glass.  

Amagi’s gaze is still on you — you can feel his eyes burning into your skin as Peach tries to distract him. You watch a monitor mindlessly, sweeping across the silent and desolate street. Sighing, you tuck your chin into the palm of your hand.

You’d love to do anything else ; to be anywhere else. 

“You look tense, [name].” Amagi speaks up. His tone is intense, cruel intentions crawling from darkened eyes. He grins, ignoring the kisses that Peach settles on his neck. “Want someone to help you relax? You can have more than one, if you want.”

At his words, his friends cheer joyfully. One starts thrusting into the air, hooting with laughter. Another winks your way as she lowers her shirt to further show her cleavage. Your arm is tugged harshly to the right, your back hitting the couch as the back of your shirt is grabbed. Peach watches on boredly — your friend wouldn’t dare speak up against her fiance.  

It wouldn’t matter if you said no. Especially not tonight, but not any other night, either. 

Movement on a top monitor catches your attention. A figure is stumbling, almost to a crawl as they enter the street. You squint, moving from the unwanted touches and closer to the screen. Your mouth falls into a gasp, “Ryo?”

The red jacket on his shoulders is bright in the streetlights, beckoning any attacker to come closer. He leaves a trail of darkened splotches behind on the concrete, a puddle forming where he collapses. Amagi sits up at the name, inching closer to the screen. Pressing a button or two, he maximizes the video Ryo stars in. A malicious, evil grin spreads onto his face.

“Finally,” Amagi laughs, “he’ll die like the dog he is. In the streets, covered in his own shit.”

You gulp at his words. Amagi wasn’t going to offer refuge ; he wasn’t going to allow Ryo into his home and keep him safe. Your gaze bounces to Peach — she’s dropped to her knees in front of him, begging for his attention. He just watches the screen giddily. 

The people around you wouldn’t help, either. They wouldn’t dare to go against Amagi’s orders — not for a flea like Suzaki Ryo. Not for his childhood friend that left. Someone is still vying for your affections, the type Amagi offered for you, as they rub themselves on you. 

You take in a deep breath, focusing on the screen where Ryo lays on the street. The room goes silent, your ears ringing as you watch him writhe in pain. Everything vanishes — you could do something. You could save him. He promised to come back, and he did. 

Sound comes back in a rush, laughter and moans heating up the room around you. 

Quickly, you stand and leave the couch — you leave the room and hear no complaints for your actions. Your shoes are taken off and placed to the side — your footsteps would be silent, and no one would be able to find you now. Hastened steps patter their way to the front door ; up from the safe room in the basement, past Amagi’s self portrait, to the right of the kitchen. Shaky hands unlock the front door as fast as they can.

Cold air whips into your face. You breathe in the freshness of it ; you bask in the sound of crickets and the absence of sound. You look around warily — there’s no one around except a whimpering, wounded Suzaki Ryo.  

“Come on,” you call to him quietly. You sling his arm around your shoulder and assist him to hobble into the house. Right on the threshold, you can see Amagi snarling as he rushes the door to close and lock. To no avail — you pull Ryo in with you just in time. You set him against a wall, right under the window. “Made it.”

“What the fuck,” Peach hisses. She stands in front of her friends — the richer ones, the ones she deemed valuable — shielding them from the man you brought in. “Do you realize what you just did? Why did you bring in a flea?”

“It’s Suzaki,” you breathe, “we know him.”

Amagi stands over his former friend, staring down at him emotionlessly. His face is devoid of anything — even the usual hatred he doesn’t hide. He tilts his head, “what a pity. Would’ve been nice to watch someone slit his throat.”

They all leave without another word, sending glares your way. The basement’s safe room is locked ; they make it known that you’ve been locked out and uninvited. 

Suzaki wheezes out from the floor, “sorry. Didn’t mean to mess things up for you.”

“Don’t even worry about it.” You crouch to help him stand, guiding to one of the bathrooms in the house. Settling him on the closed toilet lid carefully, you take in a breath. “Let’s get you cleaned up and brand new, hm?”

Delicately, you take Ryo’s shirt off ; pull his tanktop up and over his head, careful to not disturb the gash across his torso. He stares at you, eyes sparkling and wide as you grab peroxide and antibacterial gel.

“It’s not too deep,” you speak up. You can hear the group below, their insults and joy vibrating against the walls. “No stitches needed. Good thing — I can’t sew.”

A smile lifts up the right side of Ryo’s mouth. You clean his wound gently, a soaked cotton ball swiping any germ or blobs of blood away. As you apply the gel, your tongue pokes out slightly. Ryo watches you fondly, “this reminds me of when we were in school.”

You smirk, “what, when I’d save your ass a trip to the hospital?”

He laughs — you try not to watch his chest as he does. Grabbing gauze, you wrap it around his torso a few times ; not too tight, but not too loose. Ryo’s eyes stay on you as you move. “You would always take care of me. Even when your friends were worse than mine.”

“We’d look out for each other.” You correct him. You shuffle his tank top back down his body, sitting in silence as you avoid his gaze. “That’s what people like us do.”

Ryo slumps in his seat, his voice growing quiet. “People like us?”

You smile, but it isn’t warm or happy. It’s accepting — sad and empty. “People who have to work to survive.”

A rattle shakes the house — you and Ryo simply stare at each other before you make a move. Peach is coming up the stairs as you exit the bathroom, your face mirroring the confusion on hers. Another rattle — the front door is shaking.

“Yoo-hoo!” A voice sings teasingly. Ryo makes his way to you, his jacket slung precariously over his shoulders as he holds his torso with his right arm. Amagi is spitting orders in the basement — he sounds terrified. “We know you’re in there. Come out and play.”

Silence. And then, a bang against the front door as a new voice calls out. “Come outside, rich bitch!”

Tensely, you reach behind you and grab Suzaki’s hand. Stomping is heard on the stairs as Amagi guides his friends to the front door. His eyes are on fire as you pass by him, red-tinted and furious. He glares at the man behind you, “this better not have anything to do with you.”

You let out a breath as you push Ryo to the safe room, eyes dancing from screen to screen. A face pops out of nowhere — one covered in a Ghostface mask. You jump, bumping into Ryo as you do. You look at him from over your shoulder, “they didn’t attack you, did they?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I wasn’t attacked by anyone. I was… trying to get between an unfair fight.”

You smile despite the situation. “Playing the hero as always.”

“People need to be protected,” he replies simply. Ryo walks over to the wall of monitors, clicking and scrolling expertly. Though, growing up with Amagi probably taught him everything he needed to know. More people are found around the Amagi mansion, waiting for a door to unlock. Ryo’s voice carries into the air, “people like you.”

You blink, “like me?”

Ryo’s mouth tilts as he looks down at the monitors’ control center. He lets out a laugh through his nose before his eyes meet yours. “People who are soft ; kind.” Ryo looks down again, “you’re the one I want to protect the most. You were always my favorite, you know.”

A bang hits the house once more, Peach’s scream echoing with it. You can hear one of her friends insist they just go outside and start shooting — they should just get rid of the strangers while they can. A flurry of footsteps rebounds against the stairs, hurriedly burrowing your way. Ryo takes you into his arms quickly, moving you both out of the way.

“I’ll show them,” he mutters. It’s one of Amagi’s friends — one who tried to get you alone. His eyes are frantic, spit piling at the corner of his mouth as he speaks to himself. “I’ll go out there and tear them all down. Amagi will notice me, then.”

The house’s defenses are down before you can stop him.

Amagi flies down the stairs, trying frantically to get the security systems back up. He clicks every button he sees. The house goes silent as the walls whir, the defenses going back into place. It has to be enough, you bite your lip, hand intertwined with Ryo’s as you tighten your hold. Please, let us be safe. 

A window upstairs shatters, high-pitched screaming mirroring the sound. 

The sound of scraping is the first thing you pick up. The safe room’s door is closed and locked tight, ensuring your safety. You don’t feel safe, though. Everyone watches in silence as the door’s handle twists left then right. You gulp, hiding the shaking of your hand by holding tighter onto Suzaki’s. 

 A bang hits the door, causing everyone to jump in unison. A harrowing, mean cackle breaths against the door. “I know you’re in there,” they call, “let us in so we can play.”

“Fuck off!” Amagi’s friend calls out arrogantly. Amagi rushes to the man, holding his hand against his mouth tightly. There are tears in the bully’s eyes — he has no chance if the safe room is breached. His friend fights him until he’s free to speak, “we’ll kill you be—!”

A body falls to the floor. A girl with lilac hair trembles, champagne falling down her arm as the bottle she holds is in half. The man on the floor bleeds from his head — you don’t think he’ll make it. She drops the half-empty bottle, scurrying to wipe the alcohol off of her person. 

The masked person outside cackles again, “attacking each other now? Let us join in, won’t you?”

Ryo’s thumb rubs against your knuckles and it’s all you can think of. He does well ; distracting you from the dire danger in front of you. But, you can’t help but also think he’s so calm ; so collected and uncaring at the threats that surround you.

Scratching is heard, the door jolting from the impact. The person outside cackles, drops of sweat fall from Amagi’s forehead. A thump against the door again — you think it’s coming off its hinges. Ryo’s shoulder bumps into yours as you back up, the sound of the door breaking disturbing the silence around you. The splintered pieces hit the floor, collecting around two pairs of boots. 

A bloody, rabbit mask and orange hair greets you — another one a Jason-inspired mask doing little to hide blue hair. The rabbit giggles, swinging the axe in hand, “you’ll play with us now, right?”

Two more figures join them but your mind is so fogged from the panic. Ryo is speaking lowly in your ear, but you can’t make sense of anything he says. The girl from before is thrown to the floor, a doll-like mask hovering above her as she’s stabbed. The Jason mask creeps closer to you — he’s got you in his sights and he’s completely locked in.

A kick his sent to the masked man’s chest, sending him flying away as Ryo stands in front of you. He grabs a cheese knife from the center table, putting it in your hand. Your back is to the wall, allowing you to see every inch of the safe room.

Blood splatters as Ryo nails punch after punch onto the blue haired stranger. It’s a sickening, intense anger you’d never seen from him before. Your hands shake as you hold tightly onto the cheese knife, unable to look away from the violence in front of you. Ryo looks over his shoulder at you, blood on his forehead and nose as he stands.

The wound on his torso seems to no longer bother him.

Ryo is quick to pull you to a room, closing the door behind you both as you hold your breath. It’s a bathroom, you see, perfectly compact and hidden. Chaos reigns outside — you flinch as you identify Peach’s cries. A shaky hand cups your cheek, blood smearing as he rubs your skin soothingly. “Stay here,” Ryo pleads,”I’ll come get you when it’s safe.”

He strokes your cheek one last time before a glass is shoved in your hand. “Sip on this until I come back.” Ryo holds your hand, gaze fierce and promising, “I will come back, [name]. Stay in here.”

The door is shut and you’re left with the muffled sound of the people you were with being murdered. The handle of the knife you hold is embedded into your skin, the intricate design imprinted onto your palm. Heaving breaths escaped your chest and you know you need to calm down or you’ll pass out.

You eye the water you’re holding, champagne taste staining the flute you sip on. Panic has really set in now, the room around you blurring together into nothing but colors. Trembling legs settle onto the floor, your back to the bathtub as your eyes slide shut.

——♥︎——

“[Name],” is called lightly, a rustle on your shoulder shaking you. “C’mon, angel, it’s time to go.”

Your eyes blink open — they’re heavy, bleary as your eyesight still has to settle. You breathe deeply through your nose — it smells like iron and sweat. An alarm rings, commencing the Purge and thanking everyone for participating.

Your eyes snap back open at the words. You weren’t safe ; the security was fought through and intruders welcomed themselves in. Ryo — Ryo went out to fight. And then, nothing. You fell asleep?

The floor beneath you is wet, your fingers pruning up from the water. Another gentle jostle to your shoulder — someone was here with you. Widened, unseeing eyes blink up at him and he coos.

“[Name],” Ryo calls again. He rubs your cheek lovingly as your eyes flutter shut once more. He sighs — it was too much on your body, after all. Slowly, he wraps your legs around his waist, standing easily and taking you with him as he goes. “Keep your eyes closed, honey. You don’t need to see this.”

Suzaki speaks to someone else as your eyes flutter open and closed periodically. You can’t stay awake — what was in that water? Your mouth moves against his neck, incomprehensible mutters and noises leaving your lips. You hear him kick something on the way out and spit out something you don’t hear.

As you leave, you notice the bloody mess is wearing Amagi’s clothes.

“Welcome back.”

You feel better now ; awake and attentive as your eyes slide open. The sun is in the middle of the sky, warming up the room you’re in. Suzaki sits on the edge of the bed you’re in, clean and grinning as he rubs your legs soothingly. “About time you woke up, huh?”

The last few hours come back to you in a movie-like sequence. The screaming, the door shattering, the blood. You gulp, “what… happened? At Amagi’s?”

Ryo let’s out a sigh, shaking his head. He squeezes your knee lightly, sucking in a breath between his teeth. “It was ugly — an all out brawl. But, we survived and you came out unscathed. That’s all we need to worry about.”

But, your mind stills races. You remember seeing Amagi — seeing what should’ve been his fully intact corpse in pieces. “Peach? And Amagi? Did… anyone else live?”

“I don’t know,” he looks to the bedroom wall. His voice is uncaring ; unsympathetic as he speaks. “All I was worried about was protecting you.”

“You did.” You sit up straighter now, reaching out to hold Ryo’s hand. “You saved us — saved me.”

The room goes silent as you bask in the warmth of the sun. It’s disorienting — the world being so warm after the bloodbath of last night. Ryo speaks quietly, “I’d do it again if I needed to.”

The side of his mouth curves up as he continues, “maybe even after that.”

——♥︎——

happy halloween!! this feels a lil icky to post considering the state of the world rn, but id like to offer a distraction if i can while still using the platform i have <3 if youd like to b tagged / untagged in any HiGH&LOW content, let me know!

🍓FOREVER TAGS : @star2fishmeg ♥︎

🍓 H&L TAGLIST : @rouzuchan @yuken-gf @strxwberrychocolate @simpforchuchu @thatpoindexterpixy @cheshirecatuniverse

airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

[dalicia-fay]

Not my pic, credit to the original owner.

That shirt looks like it's made out of boyfriend material...I'll see myself out..

Stressful Day- DPR Live

Today was one of those days; Sarah called out sick again, so your asshole of a boss decided to dump her workload into your lap to take care of. Deadlines, blablabla, teamwork, blablabla, more deadlines. That was all you could hear your boss say as he handed you more paperwork. "Great, another late night," you thought to yourself as you sat it on your desk next to your own workload. Placing your earbuds in your ears, you picked up where you left off, determined to finish everything today so you would not have to return to it tomorrow.

Before you knew it, the clock on your computer showed 12am ‘shit, worked till midnight again’. You stood up and stretched, your body aching from all the time you spent sitting in that cheap little black office chair. You cleaned up your workspace, saved all the files you were working on, and turned off your computer. You picked up your purse and water bottle that your boyfriend, Dabin, sent with you this morning because "you gotta stay hydrated, babygirl" his words echoed in your head. He was always worried about your wellbeing and you his, considering you both tend to work until ungodly hours when work requires it.

Walking out of the building and hearing the exterior doors' automatic lock click made a small smile start to pull at your lips while you stood momentarily in the cool night air, letting out an exhale that felt like it had been trapped in your chest all day. You were ready to be home and curled in bed with your boyfriend. With that warm, fuzzy thought in mind, you made your way to your car to make your way back home.

 - - -

Walking into your apartment, you locked the door behind you before kicking off your black leather pumps that had been suffocating your feet all day. ‘That damn dress code is going to be the death of me.’ you thought while untucking your blouse from your dress pants, and you walked tiredly into your little kitchen. Opening the fridge, you began the hunt for something to eat, not noticing the male figure quietly sneaking up from behind you.

Before you realized what was going on, you felt hands slither around your waist, making you jump as you turned to look at the culprit. As you turned, Dabin picked you up, pinned your body to the now-closed fridge, and wrapped your legs around his waist. "Hey baby" he said with that signature smirk on his face, "Dabin, what the fuck?! Don’t sneak up on me like that!" You yelled, more surprised than anything but wanting him to feel guilty for his actions. Laughing a bit at your reaction, Dabin took a hand off your leg, gently caressing your face as he laughed, "I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just missed my girl that's all." Moving your hands from his chest, you clasped them together against the back of his neck, playing with his short hair.

He always knew how to make you completely forget about the outside world, especially after a long day of work. ‘It’s like he can sense it,’ you thought as you leaned into his hand. "I missed you too" you said softly. "Today was an absolute shitshow," you sighed, running a hand through your hair, one of the many signs that signaled to Dabin that your work day was incredibly stressful. “Ah, well then...” Dabin spoke as he began carrying you to the living room, snagging a couple snacks and drinks along the way. “Tell me all about it, and don’t leave out any details!” He said this with emphasis on the details, as if you had watched the next episode of his favorite TV show without him. 

You and your boyfriend sat down on the couch, and you made yourselves comfortable by cuddling up on his lap. You then proceeded to recount the most frustrating aspects of your day at work, going into as much detail as possible. As you spoke, Dabin sat in content silence, humming and nodding in response to you every so often, so you knew he was listening to every word that you said. 

---

After your rather lengthy rant, you laid your head on Dabin's chest and let go of the day's stress while listening to his heartbeat. "Thank you," you said in almost a hushed tone, Dabin barely hearing you. "For what?" he asked, gently rubbing his hands along your back. "For listening, being here for me, and simply being you," you replied. When you lifted your head to look your loving boyfriend in the eyes, you noticed a smile and blush on his face. "Of course, Y/N, I will always be there for you, no matter what." 

Leaning in to give him a kiss, you smiled as you felt him smile into it. Pulling away after a few moments, you laid your head back on his chest. His hands continued to stroke your back in a soothing manner until both of you fell asleep.

---

(I hope you all enjoy this kind of short imagine...I will work on writing longer ones from here on out. Feel free to request anything and I’ll try to get to it as quick as possible! Thanks loves!!)

~Dalicia

[thisisarcanereverie]

When the World Went to Shit (Chapter 6)

Joel Miller x FEM! Reader

A/N: this is a SPOILER WARNING, this contains spoilers from the series in general.

PLEASE READ:

It's come to my attention that I've taken moments where Joel showed his vulnerability and made it about "Doc" (AKA the Reader). I would like to explain this. I've noticed in the show that Joel doesn't show certain emotions in front of others, the more vulnerable ones like fear or sadness or grief. He's always had those moments either with people he trusts completely or alone. And while he trusts Doc, she is one of the people he's trying to protect. So he wants to seem strong and doesn't show her those vulnerable moments, at least, when he can help it. Also up until now everything has been entirely in Doc's POV. From now on half of the chapter will be in Doc's POV and the other Joel's, it will still be in second person POV, just more into what's going on with Joel as a character. also a slightly shorter chapter this time around.

WARNINGS: Canon level of violence, swears, Joel is sad, talks of grief, PTSD, brief mentions of gore, Eventual Smut, pining (on both ends), grumpy idiots in love, reader is in her late 30's to early to mid 40's. Major character deaths. DISCLAIMER NO CHARACTERS/GIFS/PICS USED ARE MINE.

Summary: 20 years later after the world went to shit you, Joel, and Tess have to take 14 year old Ellie to the Firefly base outside of Boston QZ. What was supposed to be a simple plan turned into something much more complicated.

Prev. Chapter

Joel drove for a few hours before finding a place to park the truck, he made sure that it was clear enough to drive through but deep within the woods for cover. People had sucked before outbreak day, but they only got worse after. Raiders, Fireflies, FEDRA bastards, all of them sucked in their own way. He wasn’t an exception either, and he accepted that. He killed who he needed to, and more times than he would like to admit, he took pleasure in it. To take the hurt that he held onto and take it out on someone else, that was one of the reasons Tess liked him. 

He gathered the sleeping bags from the truck, handing Ellie’s to her first, making sure she got Frank’s old one rather than Bill’s. He went to hand you yours when you shook your head. 

“I think I’m going to sleep in the truck tonight,” you said. 

“You don’t have to do that,” Joel said once again trying to hand you the other sleeping bag to no avail. He sighed a deep sigh as he saw that look in your eyes, the look he knew meant that you weren’t going to budge on this. “At least grab a blanket so you won’t freeze to death.” Joel doesn’t look at you as he says this, instead he carries the sleeping bag over and lays it down. He saw Ellie fiddle with a loose string of the sleeping bag, Sarah used to do the same-

Joel looked away before he could finish that thought. Instead he laid down inside the bag and groaned, he heard you say a silent goodnight to Ellie before closing the door to the truck. He watched it rock a little as you settled yourself in the backseat. Joel didn’t express it in too many words but he cared about you, he just didn’t have it in him to say it out loud. 

“Hey Joel?” Ellie whispered, grabbing his attention. 

“Yeah?” 

“Did we do the right thing?” Joel looked over at her, he could barely see her eyes looking at him, which he was thankful for. “Lying to Doc?” 

A deep sigh left him as he remembered the event that had only transpired a few hours ago, and the note that Ol’ Bill left behind tucked safely into his jacket pocket. 

“It’s not lyin’,” Joel reasoned, “it’s just not telling her the whole truth.”

“Are you telling me the whole truth?” Ellie asked, Joel looked away from her and turned his face to the star strewn sky instead, finding the stars easier to look at, at the current moment. 

“Sure,” He said. Turning over to lay on his right side, making sure he would still be able to hear her. Silence passed by between them but Joel couldn’t rest, not with Ellie tossing and turning every few minutes. He would no sooner close his eyes and she would turn, the fabric of the sleeping bag brushing along with her and would wake him up. 

“Ok,” Joel groaned as he sat up and turned to her, “What’s wrong?” 

“Those people that you and Doc talked about,” Ellie said, turning to him, “There’s no way they’d find us here right?” He was silent for a moment, unsure of what to say. While he was sure that they were well covered, nothing was ever for sure. 

“No one’s gonna find us.” Joel promised as he laid himself back down laying on his right side. Internally he was berating himself for making a promise he couldn’t keep, why did he do that? 

“Ok,” He heard Ellie say before he heard the rustle of her sleeping bag one final time before silence. 

Sleep evaded Joel, which wasn’t uncommon without the pills and hooch; however this time it was different. He had this nagging feeling, one that wouldn’t let him rest. He had promised Ellie that no one would find them, which is something he shouldn’t have done. Someone could, that was always a possibility and one you should always be ready for and the only way to do that was to stay up and keep watch. Joel inwardly groaned as he realized what he was going to have to do in order to stop that nagging feeling. He waited until he heard the soft snores coming from the brunette beside him and got up. A few cracks and pops could be heard as he stood from the ground, resisting the urge to cuss out loud he grabbed the gun and walked to the path they came in at and just stood there. He would watch for a few hours, just enough to reassure him that everything was fine before catching what sleep he could. 

At some point in his watch he began to recount what had happened over at Bill and Franks. You didn’t know it but Joel had followed you, he watched as you broke down. He had wanted to comfort you, put an arm around your shoulders and lie to you saying that everything was going to be ok. But the longer he looked at you the more he felt his throat close up and the distinct feeling of having the wind knocked out of him grew stronger until he had to look away from you. He went back to the front of the house and put his hands on his knees, trying to breath through that gut wrenching feeling. 

It was cruel, he thought. Back at the beginning, after he lost his daughter and you lost your mother you had been each other's rock. It wasn’t like he cried on your shoulder or the other way around, but you would just sit next to him; you wouldn’t try to speak to him or offer your condolences, you would just sit there. That had meant more than he could ever say. But when the time came around for him to comfort you…he just couldn’t do it, he didn’t know how to anymore. 

His eyes had wandered over to the truck without him noticing, he hoped you were warm in there and that you couldn’t see him. Couldn’t see how shook he really was about everything that had happened, or that he was staying up later than he should to keep a promise he shouldn’t have made. In the strangest sense, though, in the midst of grief and fear was the beginnings of some old, forgotten feeling. One he hadn’t had since the outbreak, something he would rather not dwell on for too long. 

As he watched the road ahead, careful of any noise or sudden movement of leaves in the darkness, he thought more about the past few days. A lot had happened, it was almost too much to process. He almost laughed as he thought about how easy this job was supposed to be, get the girl to the Firefly base outside of the QZ, get the supplies that were promised, then find Tommy. But since he’s accepted the job, he’s assaulted a FEDRA Officer (maybe killing him), found out that the girl wasn’t just a girl she could possibly be the only person immune to the Cordyceps, Tess getting bit and sacrificing herself to save them, Frank and Bill were dead and left him all their supplies along with some unsolicited advice on Bill’s part. The one thing in common is that in the past few days, three people that he cared for (whether he admitted it or not) have died. Sure, Bill and Frank had been dead before he got there but how was he supposed to know that?! It was just a lot to lose in such a short time frame. 

And what of you? 

You, that smart mouthed child who used to chide him and Tommy about smoking cigarettes, turned into one of the most important people in his life. You weren’t much younger than Tommy, just a year or two; and before the outbreak he hadn’t spoken to you in years, wouldn’t have been able to pick you out in a crowd or anything. Yet now, after all these years, if he closed his eyes and focused long enough he’d be able to pick out the sound of your breathing. And that scared him, now more than ever. He’s already lost Tess, he’s lost Sarah and he’s lost Tommy and Bill and Frank, how could he lose you? He didn’t know what he would do if he lost you too. He tried not to think about that, but with everything that had happened it was inevitable that his mind would wander there.

Joel didn’t know how long he stared down that empty path, waiting for something he knew wouldn’t come. But the next thing he knew the sky was lighter and the early morning mist began to rise and he was tired. The corners of his vision blurred from the lack of sleep, but it wasn’t something he couldn’t push through. Maybe he would have you drive today, get a little nap in the passenger seat before stopping to fuel up or siphon gas out of abandoned vehicles if you didn’t want to break into the gas cans quite yet. 

First things first though. 

Coffee. 

**************************************************************************

(Reader’s POV)

“Please!” the woman in front of you begs, a strand of her brown hair dangled in front of her eyes as you saw her tears fall, “don’t kill me here! I can’t die here, I have-” Your finger squeezed the trigger and the recoil was nothing to your body anymore. You watched as her body fell to the ground with a thud, the sound of the gunshot still echoed through the air as you silently said your apologies. She wasn’t the first person you’ve had to kill in order to survive, and she wouldn’t be the last. 

For a few weeks it was just You, Joel, and Tommy. But Tommy had always been fast to make friends, and soon all three of you were a part of a group. Apparently not everything was lost, the government was still active, or at least that’s what you’ve heard through them. They’ve set up Quarantine Zones, or QZ’s.  apparently they would have supplies, shelter, things that you needed and more. But it was a long walk from Texas to Boston, and you needed to do what you had to do to survive. Even if that meant killing people who had what you needed in order to do that. 

You were about to grab her bag when you saw the locket hanging around the woman’s neck. It wasn’t anything you needed, but curiosity got the better of you as it always did. You opened the silver locket to see not a picture but a single snippet of blonde hair, wordlessly you closed the locket with the hair inside and grabbed the bag before your conscious started to stir. 

The bag had seen better days, as did everything else, the bag was covered in dried dirt and one of the straps was only attached to the sack via duct tape. You looked inside and thanked god that she had at least four cans of food, That would be enough for you, Tommy, and Joel for tonight at least with one to spare. You dumped the cans into your own bag and tossed it aside, having no need for the bag when your own was in better condition at least. You got up and were about to leave when you looked over and saw a few flowers. 

Bluebonnets. 

They had been your mother’s favorite, she had always liked blue things. You knew you had to get back to the group, that they would probably be wondering where you were. But, for once, you ignored logic. You adjusted the body of the woman, adjusted her so that her necklace was under her shirt and close to her heart before you grabbed a few of those bluebonnets and surrounding flowers. Making a makeshift bouquet before placing it in her hands. You said a silent prayer before turning away. You didn’t know if she believed in a god and after all that had happened you couldn’t blame her, nor did you know which one she worshiped. So you kept it as vague as you possibly could and gave her what little of a funeral you could to make up for what you had to do. 

It was almost funny, how over the past month or so you had never felt so alone than in this moment. When you realize that the day someone you love dies isn’t the worst. 

It’s all the days that follow. 

You took a sharp inhale as you woke up, your heart beating faster than normal as you struggled to sit up. You cupped your hands over your eyes as you tried to remember to take deep breaths. You’ve done things that you weren’t proud of, that haunted you. You’ve made friends and held them in your arms as they died, there were people you couldn’t save, and you’ve killed people who were only doing what they could to survive. You let out a deep sigh as finally you feel your heart rate slow and the pounding in your head cease. 

“Hey,” you heard Joel say as he opened the truck door letting the cool early morning air into the truck causing goosebumps to form on your forearms, “I made some coffee if you want any.” It was funny, how tired you can see someone was by their eyes. The first thing you noticed was how the whites of his eyes were bloodshot, and how slow he was to blink, and the rings underneath his eyes were dark. If you had to guess, the poor man didn’t sleep last night. You weren’t sure if it was from nightmares or from something else, and you had to stop yourself from asking. It wasn’t your place, you may care for him, but his issues were his own and demons only he could fight. 

“Great,” you groaned as you stretched, pretending not to notice how tired he was, “I could use a cup,” you heard a few pops coming from your back as you raised your arms over your head only to let them down after a second. Relishing in the brief relief of constant uncomfortableness that your body was under most days.

“I, uh, I got us both thermoses before we left,” Joel said as he cleared his throat looking away, “I’ll just put your half in yours, just come out when you’re ready.” You watched as he walked off with that familiar slight stagger in his step. Not really understanding what that was about, you decided not to think more about it as you grabbed the blanket that you slept with last night. You haphazardly fold it before placing it on the passenger seat, where Joel was going to be once you’ve packed up camp. The door closed with a thud as you turned to see Ellie waking up, and wiggle her way over to where the bubbling of coffee was. You watch in amusement as you see her recoil and a look of utter disgust etches on her face as she opens the lid and smells the slightly burnt and roasted smell of coffee grounds. 

“What the fuck is that?!” 

You watch Joel, who was putting away his own sleeping bag in the trunk of the car, turn to her with a look that you could only describe as mild offense and surprise. 

“You don’t like coffee?” 

After a few more comments from Ellie about how disgusting coffee smelled and grunts from Joel. You all eventually got all the gear together and headed into the truck. Ellie took the back seat and while you assumed you were going to have to fight Joel on this, you were pleasantly surprised when no fight came from him as you opened the passenger seat for him and motioned for him to get inside. Only fight you got was about you opening the door for him, saying something along the lines about you hurting his southern gentleman pride. But that was quickly abandoned as the door closed and you went to get behind the driver's seat. 

After making sure you didn’t forget anything one more time, you started the engine and started to make your way to Wyoming once again.

TAGLIST:

faith-alons26

burninggracesandbridges

dorck26

issybee0611

lightninginab0ttle

@avengersfan25

[bookishtheaterlover7]

👸

We've all seen ilarias posts inckuding the one that says not Chris and the caption that has Chris listed

1st off it has been a hot second since she took credit for styling Chris. There was a fasion article that credited her a specific look, bringing Polos baxk that included Chris Evan' s , donald glover and Dwayne johnson wore and she did tag him when she posted that article but outside of that its been a while.

The post of the pic thst says "Misc. Hord (Not Chris)" was odd. But maybe its her way of saying not Chris' clothes and that she isnt doing much of his styling because lets face it a posit it saying: Misc. Hord (not Chris)There are many Chris' in Hollywood as well. Maybe Chris Pine or Pratt are going and she's styling one of those?

Was odd at that.

She did mention Chris in the post for a Vanity party but she also listed others and apprently the Vanity Party is extremly hard to get into. Unlike someone else.

Looking at her styling and her past Styling for Chris as well as those she styles similarly Dwayne and Billy, I feel like she goes diffrently for John. You can see its clear she did not dress Chris for the party he went to.

First off she never uses just a regular button down shirt unless

A) theres a jacket or sweater going over it

B) no way in hell would be look that wrinkled. She had standards her men always look pressed. She even ironed bareys underware for god sakes!

C) IF it was just a plain white shirt there would have been a stlyish element such as big buttons like Billy had worn at a diffrent even

D) She couldve gotten 3/4 sleaves. And dont all be like she wouldnt have know if he was was going tonroll his sleave -shes dtyled this man for waht i think 10 years she knows him

E) the first is way too big especially in the pecks. The stylist job is to get him clothes thst fit, like he wore to the White House. She wouldn't have given him a shirt that was too large.

F) Look at Chris pants from the pic and then look at Billy pants from his recent post as it is a similar style. Bully is qearing pants that are dress pants Chris looks like he's wearing Kaki jeans from Sears.

Now, there is nothing wrong with kahkis or jean kakis or sears but his "date" is qeaing a white sheer dress braless. And hes wearing Kakhis.... yiu can also look at Dwyanes clothes as I said theyre styled alike for evens espeically the tops he wears dress pants.

And the NUMBER 1 REASON HOW WE KNOW ILARIA DIDNT STYLE HIM FOR THE PARTY:

She didn't take credit! And credit where credit is due i may mot always agree with her style but she takes credit deservedly so when she styles.

I know some people dont like her because she did testify on danny master's behalf, if she did that but wont style chris what is that saying about the state of association with Chris....

Yes she did put chris' name down I have 2 theories she is either styling for a diffrent Chris as theres a lot in hollywood, putting a few things together for Chris because she sees how horrible he looks it was a bit of a care package after seeing how horrible he looked in the photos and dont want his bad style to be atrributed to her ainxe she is still referrd to as his stylist.

Her post about the clothes qe can guess on we need context. She couldve just found it funny because she has a hord of chris chlothes and then saw a lable of hords of clothes that aren't chris'. We dont know. We jusr know Ilaria would never let Chris out in public like that.

Drcils avocate I'm hooing the lack of ring in audi and Ilaria maybe coming back ss a signal its almost over butbweve been hoping thst for a while so imma just assume like i said in my other post theyll give us what we said we wanted chris looking alive and happy and them together and i expect names might be used but more alone the lines of of I brought Chris with me (in her low pitch american accent) or oh I have A__a with me. Like the marketing annon said for legalilty reasons they have confirmed marriage with the use of names and we need to read between the lines, personally im reading un between the spaces because nothing says love like newlyweds almost 2 arms lenfths away while one is being pulled so muxh his hand is bent as hes going down the stairs- thsts exactly what Emily Blunt and John look li-oh wait its not theyre always affectionate.

Anyway I'm still holding on to hope.

👸 you're throwing more and more shade. And I'm just here for it 😍

Another awesome one in the bag!!!

[kcvulpinestudios]

Pri wanted some adventure, and I would be lying to say that I didn't. I too can't stand the small town vibes that we were all living in for so long. It was too much. A while ago in the apartment, Pri and Kendall were discussing landscapes for art pieces as I was writing down my fantasy stories. He mentioned the desert is a great place for exploring wide open spaces, especially in art. He even showed her some pieces he did and pics he took. It was there that she decided we should head out there to see for ourselves, and we invited Kendall along to help out.

So, after getting ahold of my uncle's old camper, we made the trek from Puttnamville down through Bakersfield, through the Tehachapi's, and into the Mojave Desert until we got into the area of this weird place called California City. From what Kendall has told me, this is the 5th largest city in California...by land acreage. It was just a small city with a lot of empty home lots. It was there (away from the OHV trails) that we made camp.

For the next few days, the two of them were busy with art and stuff. I used the time to write out ideas I will put into my novel, doing some exercise, and some exploration around the camp. This was a place much different than the Valley. After a while, I got to know this spot well. Warm in the mornings, blazing hot in the afternoon, and calmly cold in the evenings.

At night, we would gather around the fire to just hang out. On the second night, Pri was extra tired and head to bed early. So it was just me and Kendall out there. This was a great opportunity to just hang out as guy friends. I don't have many guy friends, which is why I appreciate his company. Eventually, we discussed the stars that were above us. I even pointed out a couple of planets, though Kendall had to sit close to me so I could help him. Eventually, he got tired and was about to fall into the dirt when I rested my arm on his shoulder and pulled him in. The last thing I want is to see him face plant into the ground next to a fire. Soon, he fell asleep on my chest. This isn't too bad, though it felt awkward that this was happening. Dude's a friend, and yet this felt wrong. I just sat there holding him until I was too tired to stay outside. I picked him up and got ourselves into the camper, rested him on the couch, and made my way to the bedroom where Pri was sleeping. I then simply changed into my sleep pants and just went to bed, kissing her as she slept. We had a good trip overall. I guess it was an adventure after all. One that was definitely...full of warm memories.

[liz-allyn]

📸 bc I will take any chance to look at AG and also because I love you

Abby, my sweet keeper of all of my kinks, thank you! Your AG pic is extra special!

Look at this. Just LOOK AT IT.

There's something about this photoshoot from this year's Oscars that is just, so... gahhhhh. He's so beautiful. So beautiful, it hurts. All of the photos from this set are so devestatingly handsome but also kinda fluffy, and this one here? This reminds me of a Peter just moments before seeing a sight that will change his life forever. This looks like Groom!Peter moments before a First Look photo on your wedding day!

Behold.

My Fluff:

This is probably fine for content but if you don't know all the lyrics to Smashmouth's "All Star" then you probably shouldn't be here on this blog anyway. 16+ for innuendo..

You had dreamed about your wedding day your whole life. 

Okay, it wasn’t exactly out of the womb, but your first memory was of a wedding. 

It was a cousin's wedding, when you were four. You remember grown ups dressing you up, and your aunts teaching you how to walk, and lots of strangers sitting and smiling at you when you did what your aunts instructed.

It’s a blurry, faded, watercolor in your mind, except for the bride. That sharp image stayed with you forever. Your cousin turned into a fairy princess, with a dress made of fluffy clouds, carrying a rainbow of flowers. She glided where you had just walked, floating on a beam of sunlight while music from heaven played celestial tunes.

Even as a child, it took your breath away. It was enchanting. Magic. From that moment on, you dreamed of your own fairytale wedding.

And today was that day.

You’d come a long way since then. You knew that your dream wedding wasn’t going to come from a fairy godmother. It took dedication. It took devotion. It took so, so many spreadsheets.

Months of planning, well— decades, actually— had come down to today. 

The band was setting up. The centerpieces were being placed. The bridal party was working on final touch ups. Everything was going according to plan. 

And running four minutes ahead of schedule, you thought proudly. You took a deep breath, not wanting to lose focus. You stood outside of a heavy oak door, a stone look of determination and resolve on your face.

“Okay, so like we talked about…” Your lead wedding photographer dictated to you, as she adjusted her radio earpiece with one hand and the aperture of her trusty 5D Mark III with the other. “I’m going to guide you in, walk you backwards. Slow it down. Be careful, let me guide you.” 

It was more than a little patronizing, but you were too anxious to be annoyed by it. You exhaled slowly through rounded lips. Two assistant shutterbugs fluttered about, also with radio headsets, snapping and clicking like cicadas. A videographer with a gimbal hoisted above his head danced around you, biceps quaking and a sheen of sweat on his face. 

The only one who wasn’t a bubbling volcano of energy was Reid. Reid stood in the back with headphones on, monitoring sound levels while he changed batteries on mic packs, completely and serenely apathetic. 

It was surprising how much you envied Reid in that moment.

The Alpha Wedding Photographer went on, slowing her words to recapture your attention.  “Hubby-to-Be will have his back to you. You’ll have your back to him, and then when I count to three, I want you both to turn around and face each other.”

You nodded. Your face was flushed. Was your face sweating? You read in a magazine when you were twelve that waterproof makeup was an absolute must on your wedding day and you were grateful you took that advice. 

Despite the flush, your eyes held the stone cold resolve of a quarterback about to retake the field when both teams are in triple overtime and the score is tied.

Surely, this was the face of nuptial bliss.

“Okay, smileeee!” Alpha Team Leader beckoned you with a singsong cheer as she put her hand on the doorknob. You took the hint and wiped the anxiety from your expression, beaming brightly, even as your pulse pounding in your ears. You turned around and heard the sound of the door opening.

The only part of this whole day that you hadn’t imagined since you were five was the face of the man waiting on the other side. But the moment you saw Peter Parker, it was the only face you could ever dream of. You couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your lives together, and it was with that ferver that you planned every last detail of the most perfect day of your life.

Peter was smart enough to let you drive most of the decisions. Any time you’d ask for his opinion on specifics, he remained casual. 

“All that matters to me, dove,” he’d said to you playfully, “is that you’re next to me at the altar.” 

That was so incredibly sweet, but that wasn’t going to help you narrow down an elegant, eco-friendly prop for the post-ceremony exit toss. He was so easy going about everything it was starting to irritate you. He even seemed passive about the wedding photographers! (Sure, they were ranked in the Top 10 of WeddingWire’s Best Photographers For Boho Weddings for the last five years, but still.) 

That’s why you were relieved when he finally spoke up about one, imperative request: He wanted to do a First Look. Coming from the guy who didn’t understand the concept of a Groom’s cake, that surprised you. But at least it was something.

To be honest, your inner sadist had always imagined your big reveal happening as you stepped onto the aisle, in classic, dramatic, opulent glory. Fourteen-year-old you pictured giant double doors swinging wide, as gasps erupted through the crowd. Your wedding guests blindsided by the grandeur of your devastating beauty. 

Men would fawn. Women would cry out. Old ladies would clutch their bosoms. That bitchy girl from your volleyball team would avert her eyes in furious shame and envy. 

Your Groom would fall to his knees, overcome with your splendor and tasteful choice in wedding dress designer, and weep. 

But for Peter, this... small, reserved moment inside of the groom’s suite was the one thing he wouldnt budge on. A small sacrifice you were willing to make. 

“One, two... three!”

The moment you turned around, you flashed back to that feeling you had when you were a little girl. 

God, he was breathtaking. His normally floppy, thick hair swept intricately in place. Beautifully sculpted jawline. Glowing skin with a slash of warm freckles. Pillowy lips held slightly agape. Wide, glittering, bourbon-hued eyes that sparkled with an amber sheen when caught by the light from the nearby window.

Your eyes widened at the magnificence of him. He had been unsure of the jacket and tie you’d picked out, as non-traditional as it was. Seeing him in the flesh, you’d regretted nothing. His dark ensemble made him all the more delectable.

Your heart raced as the sight of him, drowning out the sound of clicking shutters and frantic footwork inside of the small room. The blush on his cheeks gave away that you must have been swooning. Despite that, he was rendered motionless by the sight of you. Completely dumbfounded. Speechless, even.

Mother Hubbard, wasn’t he going to say anything?

He breathed, “I... uh...”

A long pause. His mouth hung open. Your mind was running through a list of all of the things he could say. Any one of them would’ve satiated the hunger you had for his approval. The confirmation that this day, was in fact, perfect. 

My God, you’re the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever seen! ...You’re glowing! ... You complete me... You’re the most beautiful specimen to ever walk into a wedding venue... I have absolutely no regrets about my choice in marrying you!

“Wow,” he spat out under the wind that left his lungs.

And that was it. Wow.

He kept staring at you, or maybe even through you. It was hard to determine. And it was getting harder to keep the smile on your face, or hold back the sting you felt by his underwhelmed reaction. Even Reid seemed more excited as he opened a fresh pack of batteries. 

“Can we, um... Sorry, uh— Give us some privacy, yeah?” Peter said finally, glancing over at the surrounding photographer team. The dancing videographer stopped immediately. The assistant photographers shot a concerned glance to the Alpha. She lowered her camera as well.

“Um, yeah! Sure! We’ll be right outside.” 

They took their concerned looks out the door with them, leaving the two of you alone in the tiny suite. You looked over at Peter, a growing sense of alarm pushing out against your ribs. Even without Spanx, it would’ve been difficult to breathe.

He slowly took your hand in his, threading his fingers through yours. Eyes drifted down to the empty space on your ring finger, spotting the faint imprint of where the engagement ring had been. He stepped backwards towards a vanity behind him, pulling you along with each step. Your feet felt heavy, like you were stepping through mud. He slowly sat down in one of the chairs nearby, leaning against the backrest. 

His eyes met yours again. They were tender. Soft. Unreadable.

“Pete?” you whispered meekly, alarm bells ringing.

“‘M’sorry, I just needed a minute, y’know?” 

You toyed with the fabric of your gown. “Um. Okay. But... we’re sorta on a schedule here.”

“It can wait.”

“Well, the guests—”

“You’re the main event. They’ll wait.”

More silence. He remained stoic as he gazed up at you. You picked at your nails to hide the tremble in your hands, digging your voice out of the pit of your stomach.

“Do you... um...” You swallowed hard, flinching at the way your squeaked. “D’you like my dress?”

Your timid eyes met his. His jaw tensed and his head tilted with puzzlement, finally realizing what his laconic responses appeared to suggest.

“Yes,” he nodded, peering at you hopelessly. “I do. Really.” Letting your hand fall, Peter twisted around to the table top of the vanity, retrieving his old Electro 35 camera. Holding it up to his eyeline, he peered at you while visualizing his frame.

You quirked a brow at this. “You want to tell me why we have photographers that cost more than two-month’s rent waiting outside the door?”

“They won’t see you the way I do.” He glanced at you through the viewfinder.

You sighed, hesitant in your reply. “Wasn’t really sure you saw me at all.” He paused, looking at you suspiciously over the top of camera. You couldn’t hide your disappointment, despite your effort. “I just thought, um... I don’t know, I thought... You’d have more of a reaction, I guess.”

Peter lowered the camera slowly, setting it on his lap. A sly smirk slid across his face. “You’re gonna have to forgive me,” he replied. He gazed at you warmly, like basking in the glow of a sunrise. “I’ve been dreamin’ about this moment my whole life. And now that it’s in front of me... I just can’t believe how perfect it is.”

Your ministrations stopped. The pout fell from your features. Your misty eyes swelled like sparkling, ocean-wrapped orbs. A wave of heat rushed across your skin and stung the back of your eyes. 

You’re gonna cry. 

Waterproof mascara: a must-have.

He smirks as you preen. 

Click. 

The moment is captured as the picture is taken, immortalized in cellulose and silver salts. You’d look back on that photo fondly as the moment you’d lost any fear or regrets about marrying Peter Parker.

You sniffed back your tears. “You’re the love of my life.”

He set down the camera as he replied, “You’re my whole world.” His hands were reaching for you as soon as he said it, pulling you closer to his chair as he gazed up at you. A mere mortal staring up into the heavens, devastated by your beauty.

You beamed as you gazed down at him, your heart swelling. “I can’t wait to spend the rest—woah!” 

You gasped as his fingers slipped up your thigh, over the lace garter, crawling towards the heat of your core. Completely disregarding the scheduled order of events. 

“Hold still,” Peter eagerly replied, locking you into his hold as his hands slipped between your skin and your delicate clothing. “Before they come back.”

“What are you doing?” you exclaimed with a scandalized rasp.

“Jus' wingin' it,” he grinned wickedly. “I’ve only been picturing this part for about 2 minutes.”

RENEW YOUR VOWS with a reblog and/or comment! And thank you for supporting fandom writers!

[butch-reidentified]

New kitten Nicatine (always cat pun names) has been given a scrunchy for a collar. We thought he'd hate it but he actually seems to be attached and cried when we took it off 🥺

Nik was found injured with two siblings at about 3 weeks old by a friend of my neighbor's. My neighbor took them in despite a severe cat phobia, because she has a big heart (and isn't scared of kittens so much as grown cats). After running into me outside one day and finding out we are registered kitten fosterers for the county, my neighbor came to me for advice and I helped her out with the kittens. Sadly, by that point the three of them had come down with a mysterious illness, suspected to be parasite-related. Despite our best efforts, by 7 weeks of age, he was the only survivor of his litter.

She became deeply attached to little Nik, even more so because she couldn't save his sister and brother, but knew she couldn't take care of him. He'd grow up, and she would struggle with her phobia despite her love for him. And besides, she struggles with mental and physical health issues as is, and is going through some challenging life stuff right now on top of it all.

She's been having a difficult time finding an adopter for him - and is very worried about ensuring whoever adopts him will take proper care of him and shower him in love and spoil him. At the same time, our roommate has moved our since we got married, and took his two cats with him, leaving us with "only" three cats and two dogs. So we had been discussing possibly adopting another cat. And it would be so great for her to have this bundle of joy she loves so much be directly across the street where she can visit or even borrow him any time she likes....

So we did! And he's adjusted so incredibly well. Everybody loves Nik and Nik loves everybody (though I'm missing a pic of him and Cleo, our calico). He is super sweet and snuggly, and loves to play-fight with both the dogs and the cats. He did have scabies when we got him, but we fortunately already had medication for it (one of the upsides of having so many animals - we have a home vet pharmacy at this point). So we treated it immediately and it hasn't spread despite our being far too soft to keep him quarantined (well, it wasn't just our softness - we also didn't want him to miss out on crucial weeks of learning, development, and socialization).

He's just the best. I have to admit, while we have a male dog we adopted in early 2018, I always said I'd only adopt female cats. I've just always had the sweetest, best female cats, and the male cats I've known have generally been unfriendly, if not outright aggressive. But the circumstances were just too perfect. The only complaints I have so far are that, 1, despite being litter box trained, he's been shitting under our bed because he's so attached he doesn't want to leave our room. So of course I did what anyone would do and bought a litter box for the bedroom. And 2, he's definitely got some attachment issues and screams endlessly if I kick him out of the bedroom so we can sleep. Fortunately, this is easily solved by making sure I don't just kick him out, but take him all the way out to the rec room where the other cats are so he's not lonely.

Also... he's definitely an ass man 🤣

And my last little gem for you all is this: I have turned my poor Nik into yet another iPad baby. If you have cats, especially young kittens, and haven't heard of the app Cat Alone... girl have I got a TREAT for you! Just look at him. This is a tame video, but he usually goes nuts hopping all over my phone chasing the beetles. They make fun noises when he gets 'em.

And it's not just beetles - you can pick from other bugs, a finger, or a green laser pointer-style dot of light. I usually let him pick now, and he actually knows which ones he likes and clicks them! And to top it off, he's started asking for my phone when he wants to play by jumping on it and biting at it, then sitting up and staring at me until I get the message.

I'm sure I'll be reblogging this and posting a ton more Nik content (tagged Nik & in my catposting, petposting, and mine tags). Let me know if you have any specific requests for content of him or any of our other 3 cats and 2 dogs! I love sharing the immense love and comfort we get from our zoo with the rest of the world.

And lastly, since he knows how to use the phone, if you comment or reblog and say hi or welcome home to Nik, I'll let him type out a personalized reply for you 😋

[marblesphere]

Summer Time (Gojo Satoru x Reader)

!!Warning!! Couple flirting with each other, established relationships, flirty gojo, a little spicy in the end

“It's the sea!!!!” Yoru yelled excitedly as we arrived at our destination, a 2 hours bus ride from Tokyo. “The smell of the sea is amazing!!!” She took a deep and large breath.

So, Yoru invited Yae, Tori and me when her friends in the same department were saying wanted to go to the beach to pick up some hotties. Yae and I are going to be the baits. We were told about this right after we arrived at the beach. They even went as far as preparing our swimsuits and everything we might need during our time on the beach. Truly terrifying.

So, now the seven of us, which is the usual four plus three of Tori’s friends, named Kaitani Makoto, Sato Yuzu, and Niwa Sera, are now in the restroom, changing into swimsuits.

“What do you think when choosing this?” I gave Yoru noogies. The swimsuit they had chosen for me is a one-piece swimsuit that is somewhat normal looking from the front. It does cover up for most of the part, but the back is absolutely bare, it doesn't even completely cover the rear, it’s all strings. There's no way I will wear this outside.

“Eh? But this suit you well.” Yoru pouted.

“Indeed. Enough sexiness and coolness.” Yae snapped some pictures. “Show some boldness.”

“Delete that.” I deadpanned at Yae. “And if you want to show some boldness, you try this.” I glared.

“My swimsuit is just fine as it is. And Suguru-san will get angry if I wear too daring of a swimsuit.” She replied easily. Yae is wearing a two pieces white bandeau bikini with skirted bottom in the same colour.

“I am going home.” I re-entered the restroom.

“No no no. There is a spare swimsuit. I will get it for you.” Yoru quickly said.

“It's better a normal one or I am leaving.”

“Roger!” Yoru saluted and then quickly searched for the said swimsuit. In the end, she came with a normal two pieces bikini in black colour. The top is tied in a thick knot on the front, while the bottom is also tied in a thick knot only on the left side. Again, Yae is taking pictures the moment I came out.

“Yae, stop taking the pic.” I groaned.

“How is this?” Yoru smiled.

“At least better than what I wore just now.” I sighed. After the whole thing had been sorted, we went back to our claimed spot. A nice big parasol and beach carpet have been laid up.

“Sea!!!! Here I come!!!” Yoru literally ran to the sea, giggling when the sea wave came crashing into her.

“Sorry.” Tori apologized.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because we sort of forcing you to come with us?” She smiled sheepishly.

“If I really don’t want to, I won’t come no matter how Yoru begged.” My lips curled into a smile. “Besides, it’s not that bad.” I lay on the beach carpet. “Aside from the fact that I can see the double amount of the people here.”

“So, there are ghosts here too.” Tori sweatdropped. “How many?”

“As many as the living people here,” I answered.

“So, ghosts like sea too?”

“They are selling the appeal of how much fun it is drowning in the sea. And there are also some people that came with dead ex-lovers, trying to scare their new dates or sabotaging their plan to pick one up.”

“The ghosts are hard workers too.” She sweatdropped.

“[Name], come here!!!” Yoru ran to us. “Tori, you too! Mako and Yuzu said they found some hot guys over there. Now it's your and Yae's turn.” She exclaimed excitedly.

“Our turn to do what?” I sweatdropped at her excitement.

“Of course luring hotties.”

“...You asked the wrong person. I don't know how to lure hottie.”

“But you lured Gojo-san.” She stated as if that was a fact. Well, it was a fact but…

“I didn't lure him. You ask Yae, she lured Geto-san.” I passed the hard ball to Yae.

“What are you talking about me luring Suguru-san?” Yae blinked as she came back with drinks.

“They found hotties and wanted us to lure them.” I summed it up.

“Oh? Different people work with different methods. As for Suguru-san, I have to literally plop myself comfily to his lap to gain his attention.” Yae nonchalantly said all of this as she passed me a drink.

“What kind of play you two are playing?” I sighed.

“Why are you guys taking so long?” New friends trio came to get us.

“Hisaki-san and Kurogane-san just need to stand and they will definitely notice you. And leave the rest to us.” Yuzu encouraged. So here we are trying to get into the crowd, all for the sake of catching hotties. ~”~

“...” I wore a deadpan look. “So, you were saying those trash caught your attention?” I raised my brow.

“Of course, they are hotties after all. Look at those muscles and faces. Even though they were covered by sunglasses, I bet they are really handsome.” Yuzu whispered.

'Yeah, they are handsome alright. Even though they are trash.'

“Let Yae show you how to lure this hottie then.” I gestured to Yae who has been eyeing the Dumb from the duo of Dumb and the Dumber. Dumb and Dumber are laying on their back on expensive-looking reclining chairs. Two parasols are situated to block sunlight and in the middle of the chairs is a small round table with exquisite drinks and some books, probably for Dumb to read, because Dumber will get bored within one page.

“He's looking at you!!!!” Niwa whisper-yelled frantically to me. “Oh my gosh, he is gorgeous!!!”

I glance at the Dumber. Dumber, who's wearing black swim trunks and a black high-neck jumper which was not zipped at all, is pulling his sunglasses down to the bridge of his nose, revealing his vibrant weirdly sparkling cerulean eyes. A smirk is also hanging on his lips, he is just shamelessly checking me out. I can feel his stare is burning a hole.

Yae smiles brilliantly and walks to Dumb who is reading a book, but secretly watching Yae anyway. So, Yae took her own advice and made herself comfy in his lap. This makes all the audience's jaws drop at her boldness. Yae literally chucks the book away and settles down on his lap, hands wrapping themselves around his neck, bringing her mouth to his ear. “Hottie, are you free now?”

“...” I looked at them speechless at their charade.

“What will a cutie like you offer to me so I can free up my schedule.” He flirted back.

“Ku-Kurogane-san, how bold!” Sera gasped, her, no all of their eyes widened in disbelief.

“Eh? But I heard Kurogane-san has a boyfriend!!! Is she cheating?!” Makoto blinked rapidly.

“Ah, that…” I exhaled a tired sigh. “It’s fine. Yae’s boyfriend will be super happy-“ Yuzu, Makoto and Sera suddenly gasped and blushed as I feel a shadow towering over me.

“Cutie, give me your number.” He grinned.

“...I have a boyfriend.”

“But you came here without your boyfriend. He must be suck.”

“Yeah, he is.” I agreed.

“Why don't you come with me then, I promise I will treat you better.”

“How exactly?”

“Well, for starters, I won't let you feel alone right now. I will worship the ground you walked on.”

“Very tempting, but there's no food. So, hard pass.”

“Food?” He cocked his brow up. “Of course there will be food. Whatever you want, I will have it up in a minute.”

“I need to ask permission from my boyfriend first.”

“Come on, sweet. Your boyfriend won't know about our secret rendezvous. This will be our secret.” I pulled out my phone from my small purse. (Remember not to leave your valuables in public spaces)

As my phone is connected, Dumber's phone rings. “Your girlfriend might be searching for you.” I pointed out.

“How do you know I have a girlfriend, sweetness? You must be a physics and I love mysteries.” He grinned and ran to pick up his phone. “Hello, love.”

“Where are you right now?”

“Me? I am on a beach.”

“What are you doing there?”

“Just relaxing with Suguru.”

“Oh? The thing is, there is an annoying person hitting on me. What should I do?”

“That's easy, love. Just agree to go with him.”

“You are not going to be jealous?”

“Why should I be jealous, hm? I trust you and him.”

“Well, I might not come home tonight.”

“What a coincidence, I am also not planning to go home tonight.”

“Okay, see you later.”

“Yep, see you later, love.” We hung up at the same time.

“…Their conversation oddly matched, didn’t it?” Yuzu commented.

“…un…un…” The other two nodded their heads.

“More importantly, your boyfriend agreed?!” Makoto’s jaw dropped.

“Yes. He trusts me, he said.” I replied.

“Wow… just wow…” They are speechless now. “Are you two having an open relationship?”

“No. I am only one partner type.” I replied. This got them even more confused.

“Then, be a good girl and step aside for this sister. Unlike you, I am all for it for a fling.” A woman wearing a skimpy swimsuit that barely covers important parts walked past me to Dumber. Dumb and his girlfriend are watching intently for the show now.

'Everyone is really…' I sighed softly.

“What do you think, boy? Rather than picking up a virgin inexperienced girl. You'd rather pick this experienced big sister. Big sister will teach you everything.” The skimpy, sexy dynamite body Obaa-san tried to put her hand on his shoulder. Keyword, tried.

“Does that mean it's 100% guaranteed that he will be infected with some disease after he is done with you then? How scary.” I gasped. “Young man, it's not like I am against your option. But your healthiness and safety always come first.” I shook my head pityingly as if an elder speaking with a child.

“Pfft!” Yae and Dumb are clearly enjoying this, but they tried their hardest to conceal their laughter.

“Don't be jealous of me, little girl. It's just that I am that hard to resist.” She sneered.

“Oh? Well yeah, you are not young anymore, that's why you need to resort to your nakedness. But unlike you, I am still young, my skin is still tight, so I don't need to do anything except stand and someone will hit on me.” I shrugged. I can see Dumber is beaming giddily and didn't pay attention to this Obaa-san.

“You!” She raised her hand.

“What? Are you using violence now? So scary, I guess I need to call on my boyfriend as a backup. You see, I am just a weak girl.” I patted my chest.

“I dare you to call him.” She snarled. “Let him know his slutty girl-” A beach sandal landed perfectly on her face.

“Sorry, my hand slipped.” I blinked innocently as if I was not the one who threw it straight to her face. “I don't like being called names. Please refrain from doing that in the future.”

“You little bitch!!!” She shrieked as she lunged at me. I just dodge to the side and she falls down on her own. Now her pretty swimsuit and face are covered in sand.

“My condolence,” I said flatly. “This one is off-limit because he is with me now. Please go seduce other people.” I smiled refreshingly at her.

“What an interesting woman.” Suddenly there this man came out of nowhere. “Be my woman.” He grabbed my hand.

“???Are you sick in the head?” I frowned. “Please let me go.” I sighed.

“My woman must be feisty.” He smirked which soon turned to a pained expression.

“Don't you dare touch her with your filthy hand.” Satoru hissed as he twisted this sick in the head man's hand and pushed him to the floor.

“You are showing too much skin, love. Are you trying to make me jealous?” He murmured, lips grazing my ear. “Especially what you wore before this one.”

“Are we done with the play now? You are also showing too much skin.” I argued, reminding him why I got into this mess in the first place.

“Jealous [Name] is the cutest.” He grinned and gave me his jumper, carefully helping me slip into it. “This is better.” He zipped it all the way up. It has become a mini dress.

“Who are you?” The sick man glared.

“Her boyfriend.” Satoru rolled his eyes. “If you have a problem. I will be glad to help you out.” He flexed his toned muscle, earning dreamy sighs from people there.

“Show off.” I slapped his back.

“Love, I am showing off for you.” He grinned.

“Geto-san.”

“Here.” Geto threw me another black jumper.

“Wear this.” I shoved it to him.

“Yes, wifey.” He obediently put it on and began to torment that Man A.

“So, how come you are here?” I eyed Geto.

“Well, my cute adorable girlfriend here,” He referred to Yae. “, sent me such a stimulating pic of her in a swimsuit. So, I thought what if some pests decided to covet her? So here I am.”

“...Yae…” I ground my teeth. If Geto got a pic of her. Then Satoru undoubtedly got that embarrassing one of mine.

“Just asking for your boyfriend's opinion of your swimsuit.” She smiled innocently.

“Yae-chan also need to cover up.” Geto gave her his jumper and whisper something to her.

“Get a room.” I groaned.

“You are one to talk.” Yae retorted.

“Wife. I have made sure he won't be doing any bad things again.” Satoru wrapped his hands around my waist and his head on my shoulder, asking to be praised. The man was left groaning on the sand. His face was perfectly rearranged.

“Good boy.” I patted his head and he purred.

“Next time, let me go shopping swimsuits with you. There are a lot of things I need to make sure while you are wearing a swimsuit.” He whispered. His voice is undoubtedly one reserved in private.

“Get a room.” Yae snickered.

“Eh…? Wai… Eeeeehhhhhh????!!!!”

“What kind of situation is this?” New friends trio are having trouble processing.

“Gojo-san and Geto-san are [Name] and Yae's boyfriend respectively.” Tori giggled.

“Eh? Then why did they do that?” Makoto blinked, referring to the charade.

“Because it was fun seducing [Name],” Satoru answered for them, earning an elbow jab at his stomach, courtesy of me.

“The bottom line is, there's no way we will act like this aside to them. If it wasn't Gojo-san who hit on her, [Name] would have undoubtedly ignored them or resorted to violence.” Yae grinned.

“No wonder… no wonder Yoru and Tori didn't want to get involved after seeing them. They even said they were taken already.” Sera said.

“Speaking of them…” Yuzu looked at her friends.

“I got it all recorded. How much are you willing to pay, Gojo-san?” Yoru grinned.

“I will give you Nanamin's exclusive confidential folder.” Satoru grinned.

“Deal.” Yoru and he shook hands.

With the whole fiasco over. We are now joined by Dumb and Dumber who couldn't keep their hands on themselves. ~”~

“[Name], let's go swimsuit shopping tomorrow.” Satoru suddenly whined.

“I already have a swimsuit.” I rolled my eyes as I was being placed on his lap.

“That's for a public beach. Tomorrow, I want a new swimsuit for our private beach.” He hummed.

“Then you go buy yourself.”

“I want to see you in a swimsuit, especially like that one you wore yesterday.” He unlocked his phone and navigated it to a secret folder. “Am planning to have this a lock screen, but you will hit me for sure.” He showed me the picture he got from Yae yesterday. The photo of me in that racy swimsuit. “I almost lost my shit back then.” He groaned half feral.

“Just thinking of you in that kind of racy swimsuit is making my blood boil.” He peppered kisses to my neck.

“Pervert.”

“Yeah, I am your pervert.” He grinned with his half-lidded eyes. “So, will you do it?”

“You will definitely do something to me in the changing room. So, no. I am not fan of voyeurism.”

“I will have those swimsuits sent here. So, there you have it.”

“...As long as I am not wearing it outside.” I conceded because I knew he would pester me for weeks.

“Of course not, love. There's no way I would let you show how delicious you are to other people. It's for my eyes only and will be worn on our private beach.” He grinned. ~”~

The next day row and a row of swimsuits were placed in a spare room, there's only a makeshift changing room and sofa. Satoru is sitting there as if waiting for the show to start. I guess I will indulge him on this occasion. So, I picked up some swimsuits and went to the changing room. Those swimsuits are truly not normal. They are all those racy swimsuits that should not be seen in the public. But here I am trying these. And since I am doing this, I am going to make sure to tease the hell out of him.

The moment I step out of the changing room, I hear a hitch from a certain someone and then a pained groan. “This is not to your taste? Then I will change it.” I grinned as I closed the curtain again.

I did this a few more times, and ultimately, I am trapped inside the changing room with Satoru's hot body pressed against mine. His mouth is doing a workout with mine, my hands being pinned by his large one right above my head, his knee perfectly slotted in between my legs, rubbing against the crotch, and his other hand is busy groping, mapping my whole body. As expected, this is not going to be choosing a swimsuit. ~”~

We did get our vacation on his private beach, wearing a swimsuit of his choosing, he even makes sure to put boundaries around his private property to avoid prying eyes. It's literally a world just for the two of us.

Satoru, being the pervert he is, had chosen the perfect racy swimsuit of all. A cross-wrap halter top with string bottom in the colour of his hair, easier to apply sunscreen, he said. The man actually wanted me to wear a v-string bikini which earned a whack on his head so he settled down with this. And yeah, the applying sunscreen session became a session having me basically naked on the beach carpet with him burying his face in between my legs, the swimsuit is left forgotten to the side. Safe to say, we did no swimming that day.

[ronearoundblindly]

The Stark Legacy (8)

Longing, part of Book 1: Reality (see previous or series)

Summary: Samantha gets caught stealing supplies from a Harvard Lab...but what is the man who catches her stealing?

Warnings: vague medical procedure descriptions, needles, threatening with a gun (not fired)--also, I have no idea how to get the pic to stop doing that. Rated Teen/Mature so 15+ only, please.

CHAPTER EIGHT—April 2038

Her feet already hurt when Sam entered through the loading area of the Laboratory Sciences building as she’d done several times over the past few years. She’d spent forty minutes wandering the campus, fuming over how Tony had behaved and how she had just stood there like an idiot.

The security guards almost never checked the dock between 1am and 4am because Brian was super lazy, and ‘porky’ as his co-workers described, while Tim was too tired after getting in as many steps as possible earlier in his shift. Tim really enjoyed rushing straggler students out of the building, sending them into a panic over how to make up lab hours for their classes. That joy lasted Tim until approximately 1:15am, after which he became grumpy and had a dissatisfying snack, and then Brian would be responsible for an excruciatingly slow check of the building 45 minutes later. What would take a normal person 15 minutes took Big Boy Brian nearly 25, which he would say was the start of the 45 minute down time. This normally meant an hour or more of time to get in and out of the building; now she had half that. 

Of course, Sam had no need to sneak in; she could walk right in whenever she wanted.  However, walking in and saying hello would leave a trace of when she actually came and went, and she was in absolutely no mood to chit-chat with Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumb. She also had full access, to the security programming of the whole university, thanks to Missy. Sam could access the building with a keycard unattached to any personnel, and the log was then wiped by her BFF. Missy would most certainly ask Sam why she arrived so much later than expected for pick up, and then Sam would then have to explain her ‘date’ with Lucas Sommerson. She’d cross that bridge when she came to it.

Inside the building, Sam needed to go to three different storage rooms and two labs to use or ‘borrow’ equipment. She hit the labs first so she didn’t haul around supplies, then the first storage closet, but on her way to the second, nothing seemed out of place until she rounded a corner about 100 feet from her closet. An exterior lab was awash with light, and once she thought to listen for them, Sam could hear voices.

“Up on the table, Todd. Can you get up there from the chair? We are ready to start the transfusion.”

Transfusion? Procedures are not done inside this building except on rare necropsy occasions,Sam thought, and no one would perform a dissection at 1:49 in the morning. She inched forward to read the plaque outside of the room.

Professor Simon Marshall. 

She’d heard of him, read a few of his chemistry papers on synthetics and substitutions in pharmaceuticals, but Sam had never met him in person. Worst case scenario she could woo him with her knowledge of his research and keep him going with questions. But again, why a transfusion?  Odd. She returned to the supply closet to fill her purse with disposables and sterile implements, but she hadn’t propped the door open to minimize noise from hinges. She wasn’t quiet enough. The door opened before her hand reached the knob.

Sam stared in complete confusion at the bizarre man across from her, a fierce widow’s peak of dark hair capping an olive complexion with sharp chiseled features and a beard reminiscent of Tony’s. 

“Come with me,” he demanded and led Sam down the hall. 

Marshall was a much bigger deal than she’d thought if his office and labs were any indication. Curiously, some of the prominently displayed tools and formulas displayed on screens were not chemical but genetic. The man he’d been speaking too still sat in his wheelchair at the base of a cleared table in the primary lab just adjacent to the office. He eyed her suspiciously as the bearded man led her further in to a secondary lab, a dispensary of sorts.

“Would you like to explain why you are stealing supplies?” 

He had an accent she couldn’t place, along with equipment and sample specimens she didn’t recognize. A rack of large vials sat beside a trio of monitors. The labeling was in three languages, two of them typed neatly and a hand-written third. It was the tiny symbol in the labels’ corner that really set off the lightbulb in Sam’s mind: the embossed A of the Avengers.

“Are you Professor Marshall?” Sam asked, assessing her situation.

“His associate. A doctor he works with from time to time,” the man added.

“Well, Doctor, I can see you are busy with…” Sam couldn’t help but scan the closest monitor. “Since when did Marshall study marine biology?” 

She didn’t mean to blurt it out, but all information was a challenge to be conquered. When you grow up with more computers than friends, you don’t have much of a filter. “Selachimorpha or Batoidea? It's definitely elasmobranchii…”

“And me? Do you know me?” The man in the wheelchair came to the door, throwing his head as if to toss his golden locks.

Sam had to study his face and imagine more life in it. His upper body was disproportionate now, so she tried to imagine a smile or catch his profile. The color of his hair actually helped. “You're the swimmer from a few years ago. Artiss, was it?”

“Arliss,” he replied flatly.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what we are doing here,” the doctor added from behind her.

“I don't ask questions that I don't want the answers to,” Sam said with confidence. “That's a waste of time…” She turned back to the sequences; something was off. “It's a splice!” But that wasn’t all, she couldn’t figure it out yet.

“Very good, Miss..?”

She heard a click beside her ear. One of those things that she never asked about was guns, and Sam regretted that in this moment. “Morgan” was all she could get out.

“Well, Miss Morgan, you may help Mr. Arliss become so much more than a swimmer before you die.” Even though the doctor lowered the gun prior to the crux of his threat, Sam’s terror grew exponentially.

“Is someone there?” a voice called from the hallway. 

Her breath caught, just as afraid to be discovered as the armed doctor. Sam looked at her watch. Big Boy was over twenty minutes early with his rounds. The oddities continue.

“The lights,” she whispered in frustration.

The doctor cocked an eyebrow. His eyes shifted as he contemplated options. Finally, he asked, “can you get rid of him?”

“Hello?” Brian called again.

Sam sighed, reluctantly adding “yes.” The doctor motioned for her to go out using the gun. Before crossing the threshold, Sam called for Brian then popped her head out.

“Jesus, Brian, you scared me!”

“Miss Stark? How’d you get in—“

“I was here this afternoon, but I passed out on my books in D7,” she waved down the hall, “they thought it was funny to leave me with the lights off.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” the security guard automatically scolded.

“I’ve got to finish this before—“ Think, Sam, think. Lie better. “My dad’s in town, and I want to show him this work at lunch tomorrow. I mean, today,” she checked her watch. “Oh man, I was out a while! Shouldn’t have pulled an all-nighter—”

“I heard another voice,” Brian fought to be smarter than his pay grade.

“You mean my computer interface? I guess it is kinda a male vocal range.” Oh, I’m kinda good at this.

“You’re what?” Brian struggled, but after a few steps forward. Sam took a few steps back towards the door.

“You wanna see? I’ve been tweaking the AI to be more interactive, but I think a few more bug fixes and he’ll work pretty flawlessly.” Mission accomplished. Brian’s eyes glazed over as he lowered his shoulders in disinterest and fatigue.

“You didn’t go to your dad’s lecture?” Brian seemed more disappointed that she had missed it than Sam felt for having gone. “I’m sorry, but they’ve told us these buildings are off-limits tonight for the event. Can you pack it up in…” he checked his watch, too, “half an hour or so?”

She contemplated arguing for more time. It might not work and only served to draw attention.

So Sam saluted Brian, saying, “I’ll give her all she’s got, Captain.” That’ll keep him happy.

Big Boy chuckled. “Ok, Sam, see ya downstairs.” 

Bingo.

Sam sauntered back to Marshall’s offices proud of her performance only to deflate when faced with the gun’s barrel once again.

“Hello, Samantha Stark,” the doctor whispered.

The way he accented her name triggered something in her memory. “Sharks,” she burst, “it’s shark DNA, isn’t it?”

This seemed to frustrate the doctor profusely. “Has anyone ever told you you are too smart for your own good?”

She thought in earnest, but that was more difficult with a weapon pointed at her. “Not sure anyone has been smart enough to notice…” She awkwardly made moves to raise her hands up. “Also I don’t get out much.”

It was Todd Arliss who snickered. “That I can believe. Doctor, let’s get on with it before you have to blow the mall-cops to high hell.” He locked his chair and expertly used all that arm strength to dismount onto the table.

“Come, Nurse Stark, you can prep the patient,” the doctor waived the gun again. “Hook up two  lines, one in each arm.”

“I’m not trained to use needles,” Sam started to say. “I’m not that kind of student here.”

“Then put them in my legs. I won’t know how badly you’ve stuck me,” Todd seemed restless, anxious to be done.

Sam shook. It was hard to get her hands to do anything, much less help. “I…I don’t want to hurt you.” She looked up at Todd. 

He rolled his pants legs up. “What is it you want to do with your life, young thing?”

Gosh, we’re asking the deep questions today… “Something no one else can.” It was such a vague statement, yet Sam meant it. 

“As do I,” Todd responded, “as I soon will.”

Sam forgot herself for a moment and smiled. It was a warm feeling to make a friend, but Sam wasn’t sure this was the same. Perhaps just a flash of a kindred spirit, willing to break a few rules to better his life, to make a breakthrough. When she lifted her eyes from the needles, the doctor was staring at her. Sam’s blood went cold.

She shuffled around to find a fresh IV catheter. “I can do it again if it’s wrong.”

The doctor came to investigate. “You will not be needed anymore,” his deep voice replied.

Sam sucked air in so fast it made a small whistling sound. He put up a hand. “I, too, would like to see what your mind can do. Therefore, I will make you a deal.” He waited, keeping eye contact.

Her nervous swallow made a huge gulping noise, and Sam hesitantly replied “okay.”

“You agree to leave and never speak of myself and Mr. Arliss being here—“

“Done,” Sam jumped.

“—and keep those men from snooping around—“

Sam learned quickly. This time she only nodded.

“—and in exchange—“

She expected to leave with her life; that would be lucky…and ideal, but this day was full of oddities.

“—I will give you a gift. Something to give you the ability to do what no one else can.”

Sam was so dumbfounded, she became stone. After a serious pause, she added, “that would be pretty great.”

“She’s a smart one, Lem,” Todd smirked.

Sam looked around for some props for her next run in with the guards. “The professor could let me borrow some books, right?”

Ten minutes later, Sam stumbled out the building carrying a giant stack of texts, and a full, padded bag of samples and supplies.

“I did say half an hour, but I’m nowhere near done of course,” she called towards the quizzical look of Tim who was holding his carrot sticks, mouth agape. 

Brian hustled forward. “Do you need help, Miss?”

“No, no. I could use the upper-body workout,” Sam met Tim’s eyes. He cheered her with a carrot. “I managed to lock the door without turning off the lights though. So I’ll text the professor not to be worried in the morning, ok?”

Everyone nodded.

“Night, guys,” Sam called over her shoulder, wobbling under the weight of the pile and the ache of her feet. Her adrenaline carried her the rest of the way home. She couldn’t wait to tell Missy that they had a new project, a real challenge to work on.

[Ch 9 Ghosts]

[Main Masterlist]

[starkdemigodninja]

More Touya content

Ask and ye shall receive. I have decided to dub this the “Keeping up with the Todoroki’s” timeline as this train of thought took off of its own accord and inspired an entire Touya x OC fic that’s currently holding my attention. So a little lovely wanted to know what happens after Touya gets home but first we’ll take a quick peek at what Rei was up to bts during the hospitalization.

After getting Touya to the hospital Rei does not go home until he’s stable. He codes twice in the night. The next evening seems more promising and doctors assure her she’ll be the first to know should there be any change.

She requests to be put in an outpatient program for her mental health fully recognizing what she did to Shouto and that she needs help but not wanting to leave her children with the help and at their father’s mercy

She goes back home. She tries to keep things as normal for the other kids as possible. Bringing them to visit their brother as soon as visitors are allowed.

The night after going off at Enji, Rei returns home with the other kids. They play in the courtyard while she prepares dinner. She feels a presence behind her and whirls around to find Enji looming in the doorway. “This is your fault. If you hadn’t been so weak, hadn’t destroyed my masterpiece….” He’s obviously drunk. He steps towards her and she meets him halfway brandishing the knife that been previously cutting vegetables. Last time she checked this was her house. She aims the point at his carotid. “Get the fuck out of my house.” He doesn’t move until she swipes at him slashing his cheek. Rei chases him from the house hurling various kitchen utensils. She decides that night over dinner that she was moving.

She drains half the money from the joint bank account and have Mitsuki and Inko help her house hunt. By the time Enji receives the divorce papers she and then kids are moving into a cozy eight bedroom.

Enji gets served the divorce papers in a board meeting at his angency. The world goes absolutely bonkers for the story. Touya’s accident, the divorce, the abuse allegations are all cause for speculation and fill every headline for weeks. Paparazzi lurk outside the hospital hungry for a pic of the family coming or going from seeing the wounded Todoroki boy. It’s all chaos.

When Touya gets out he’s happy not to have to return to scene of some his worst trauma. And he isn’t quiet about a goddamn thing.

Rei gets all the kids into therapy as soon as she’s able. The other kids take their time opening up the the child therapist not Touya. He spills everything.

When it comes to the paps Touya’s go to line is “I’m not legally allowed to comment on that piece of shit.”

When he comes back to school it is a special kind of hell. Too many nosy motherfuckers with too many questions. After while the novelty of embarrassing his father wears off and he just gets annoyed by the amount of other kids in his damn business.

He doesn’t know what he hates more the open staring at his still healing scars or the looks of pity. You (or in this case my OC) tell any and everyone off that makes him uncomfortable.

You two didn’t together right way both of you chalking the kiss up to heightened emotion and not genuine affection. (Much to Natsuo and Fuyumi’s dismay as it is so glaringly obvious how into each other you two are and it’s painful to watch you dance around each other)

One day junior year you over hear a group of girls daring their friend to ask Touya out as a joke all of them very openly talking shit about his scars. You see red but they disappear into a hall flooded with before you can crack open a can of whoop ass.

Touya comes up to you all smiles telling how he has a date that weekend expecting you to be happy for him. Instead you try to warn him it’s a set up. He accuses you of being jealous and claims that you don’t think he can pull a pretty girl cuz how fucked up the accident left him. You deny it (you actually think the scars make him hotter than sin but you’d never say that to his face). You fight until you get sick of each other and storm home separately.

Saturday comes and goes you don’t hear from him. Before you head to bed you text him: << Hey I’m sorry. I’m just trying to look out for you, not make you feel bad. << I hope your date went ok. Love you ❤️

Rei calls your mother the next morning and she hands you the phone while you’re still half sleep. “Hey honey, sorry to wake you. Touya got stood up last night, do you wanna come over maybe? I know you two fought but I know seeing you would help him feel better. Bring a bag I’ll talk your mom into letting you stay. Enji is sending a driver.” (Rei has no problem using Endeavor’s guilt to extort him)

You do as your told and hop in the bathroom for a quick shower dressing in cozy joggers and a crop tee, an extra uniform in your bag. You race down to the car only half listening to your mother’s “don’t bring home no babies” lecture. You tell the driver to stop at the nearest Daiso on the way. The clerk tried not to let any surprise on to his face as you buy a pair of tube socks and as many cheap bars of soap as you can afford.

Rei ushers you inside and up the stairs, taking your bag as you leave your shoes abandoned at the front door. She goes back to making comfort food. She knows this is a dangerous line she’s toeing and she can wholeheartedly say she doesn’t have any desire to be a grandmother yet but damnit something must be done. Especially if these shallow little broads are gonna hurt her boy intentionally.

You tip-toe into his room and find it dark except for the blue led lights around his desk and the soft glow of the galaxy mural you and his siblings painted for him a year prior. A soft folk song played quietly the chords wrapping the room in a sort of comfortable melancholy like an old worn cardigan. “Bestie?” You whisper not wanting to disturb him. “You were right.” Touya mumbles miserably his voice muffled by the pillows. You cross the room and clamber into the covers next to him. You’re immediately struck by the most delicious aroma of patchouli and mint as he shifted, downy white hair parting revealing a single puffy turquoise eye peeking at you. “I’m sorry I got pissy and yelled at you. I know you were just being protective.” He mumbled. “We both said some shit we didn’t mean it’s ok.” You held your arms out in acceptance. He took the offer readily melting in your grasp. You fight the heat rising in your face as he cuddles into you, your fingers slip into his hair massaging his scalp. He sighs at the contact. “I feel so stupid.” His voice wavers at the end and your heart breaks. “You’re not stupid, Makiko’s stupid.” You assure him giving him a squeeze. “And a bitch.” You stay tangled in each other chatting quietly about space and the deep sea and other random shit until Rei calls you for dinner.

Afterwards you attempt to help Tei clean up like you normally do but she shops you away with the other kids. You all decide to watch a movie in the home theater in the basement. (Another Enji guilt gift) After much debate you all settle on Zombieland. You try to convince Shouto to watch something else in a different room to no avail. “I’m not a baby, Y/N.” He insists. “If the twerp wants to traumatize himself let him, we’ve all done it at least once. Besides it’s a comedy hardly scary.”

You all laugh and jump through the entire thing. Talking shit left and right. Shouto dozed off as the credits rolled. Natsuo nudges Fuyumi who isn’t too far behind and scoops up the tween to carry him to bed. You settle in the guest room between Natsuo and Touya’s bedrooms. Touya inevitably sneaks in to chatter away until you both doze off curled up together.

The next morning your sitting on the couch loading bar after bar of soap into a single tube sock as Touya comes down fiddling with his tie. “The hell are you doing?” He asks perplexed. “The less yo know the better.”

You and Touya part at the lockers with a hug being in different classes. You see him off smiling until he disappears from your sight. As soon as he rounds the corner you drop your bag face determined heart filled with vengeance. You put your earrings in your jacket pocket,dump it with your bag, tie your hair up, and retrieve your soap sock. You march over to where you can here the little bitches tittering to each other. “Oi, Makiko.” Is the only warning you give before you go to work. It’s five in one but somehow you come out bloodied but triumphant. You seize Makiko by the hair and pull her to her feet just to slam her once again into a metal locker. “You will apologize to Touya. You will do it today. And if I find out you didn’t oh bitch, you’d better pray, cuz I don’t care if I’m suspended. I don’t care if I’m expelled. I will be back up here and I will fuck you up again. Do I make myself clear?” Makiko nodded against the painful grip in her hair. You ricochet her head off the locker and stomp her friend in the ribs one more time for good measure, mean mugging the few kids that lingered to watch as you head to class.

As you pass Touya’s classroom later you you peek into the partially open door and catches Makiko’s eye. She jumps in fear and quickly rounds the table in front of her to where Touya is sat dropping into a deep bow, the deepest she can muster short of dropping to the floor. You can’t hear what she says but her body language says everything.

When administration eventually finds out what happens they give all parties involved extra cleaning duties. You don’t mind, it beats suspension and Touya is kind of to stay behind and wait on you to finish. If there’s no adult supervision he’ll even lend you a hand so you can be done faster and you are eternally grateful. He always follows you home after making sure you get there safe and also getting as much time with you as he can seeing as you were grounded for a month after you mom found out.

Luckily for you though you are freed from bondage just in time for the biggest end of the year party this side of Musutafu, hosted by none other than the star player of your school’s baseball team Takahiro. And that is the fateful things change with you and Touya forever.

Alright lovelies here we go. A special shout-out to @darlingely hope this scratches that itch. And yes I did end with a cliffhanger to leave you wanting, I am cruel I know. Lol. 😜

You know the drill like, reblog, comment if you want more.

~Ciao 💜

[callmewrinkles3]

This might be a lot so feel feee to ignore. All the A for Alex, all the C for Cíara, k for Katie 😈. And I’m also interested in S and I. But please please please only do as much as you want. I’m happy with anything!

OKAY HERE WE GO .

A1. She's very good at creative and artistic things. She learned to play the piano really fast when she was a kid. When she grew up she learned how to crochet watching tutorials on Youtube. Its something that comes very easy for her. Also she reads really fast. She loves reading since she's a kid. She had to stick with a Kindle when she started to travel with Dan because she couldn't carry that many books. She doesn't read Spencer Reid level of fast, but she is fast.

A2. The only thing she ever did besides school was piano classes and horse riding. Her mom sent her because it was "acceptable". She stopped with both around 10 or so, but went back on it in 2022.

A3. She ended up being really good at reading people. Really really good. It took her long, but then it was very helpful.

A4. She's not good at trusting people and open up to them. Dan was the biggest exception of her life. Then she's not good at all with sports of any kind. Good at Go karts yes, but that's it.

A5. Organizing stuff and masking. She’s really good at hiding how she feels and putting on the everything is ok face. Then she's incredibly good at her job. The boys had no idea how survived all their lives without Em around.

C1. We're answering this in another anon with a pic lol

C2. On her side curled into Dan with her arm over him, her head on his chest, and one of her legs over his. That or Dan sleeping all over her.

C3. Chill, quiet day. Reading or watching tv or curled up with Dan and she doesn’t need to move. Extra points if it's raining outside. A nap in the middle of the day its good too. Her favourite days on the farm are her and Dan on the porch swing or deck chair when it’s raining, so that's it.

C4. Homemade food makes her happy. She doesn't need a fancy restaurant. Give her a dinner at home with family or friends and she's a happy girl. The simpliest the food the happiest she is. Grace cooking? Em's happy.

C5. Dan. On the top of her list. A hug from him and it feels like the world is a better place. Then its Blake, Grace and Charlie.

K1. She never thought about it, but there was moments of "Maybe if I never existed". She was absolutely sure she was gonna die for being heartbroken while she was in Liverpool and she was sadly at peace with it. It’s was totally passive. She wasn’t going to do anything to kill herself. But if a car came speeding at her she wouldn’t jump out of the way. At least that way she would stop suffering.

K2. Oh absolutely yes. During 2022.

K3. Without blinking. She would go for Br*wn's head without thinking twice.

K4. Nearly everyone who ever met her. Her family and friends would be destroyed, but Dan? He could never come back from that. Ever. It would kill him.

K5. In 2021/2022? Br*wn. And then maybe her own parents.

I1. Bi-curious but never kissed a girl. Never had the chance.

I2. She always knew if a nice lady asked her out she would have tried. She’s always thought “I like them I think.”, but never had the chance.

I3. Not really, she's happy as she is. Maybe a tiny bit as a kid but it was more she wanted the freedom boys got than to actually be a boy.

I4. Her parents would make a scandal. They would have sent her to conversion therapy. Dan would be more than okay with it, same with his family and their friends. As long as she's happy is all good.

I5. She never really did. She and Dan have conversations where they both say they find men and women hot, but she doesn’t really come out. She doesn't have the need to do it.

S1. Absolutely yes. She always had to look after herself, so she didn't really have another option.

S2. Yes, without a doubt.

S3. Nop, never. She doesn't do that at all. She totally runs from them.

S4. Nothing ever happened to her in the streets but that’s because she’s introverted and street smart. And paranoid as hell.

S5. She’s super cautious when she’s out. Even before Dan her keys were between her fingers while walking home, just to be sure.