#my poor girl got ROBBED

[notthemonthbutmarch]

I’m thinking about Natlan and I just need one thing off my chest

If the theories are right and the Pyro Archon is currently dead and will be resurrection like the title of the chapter suggests, I want her to be a strong and respected woman.

Like, I know we’re already getting Murata and she’s gonna be a Murata Himeko expy (which I kinda don’t like but sure whatever Hoyo) from Honkai Impact 3rd, but idk I just feel like we need a single female archon that doesn’t have a bad relationship with her people AND is powerful.

Right now I think it’s safe to say that the power scaling of the archons is Zhongli, Ei, Venti, Nahida, and then Furina (I know she’s not an archon anymore I’m just including her bc I like her and I’m bias). Also, as an aside, this got to long so I’m putting it down here. I ranked Venti over Nahida not because her powers are weaker than Venti’s but because Venti has more experience. He can fight and knows the full extent of her powers and survived the Archon War; while Nahida would outsmart him no problem, Venti would overpower her physically I just wanted to clarify

Zhongli and Venti are from the OG Seven and have positive relationships with their respective countries. They’re both powerful and well respected.

Ei is hella powerful, but she did steal everyone’s visions so I don’t think she’s respected exactly. She’s more feared in my eyes. Like, absolutely, they respect her because she’s their archon and is powerful and is trying to change, but the people of Inazuma are very aware that Ei is capable of hurting her people if it means achieving her goal. OBVIOUSLY Ei herself doesn’t want to hurt her people and that was the puppet being tricked by the Fatui that did all that, but the people themselves don’t necessarily know that, so they just think Ei had a change of heart.

Nahida’s whole storyline in the Sumeru Archon Quests was reinstating her as the highest and most respected authority. Everyone loves her and for good reason! She’s great, and she’s doing her job as an archon really well. However, she is possibly one of the weakest archons due to age and experience. I can see her being a MIGHTY archon when she’s older, but how long is that gonna take? We’ll probably never see Nahida at her peak.

Then there’s Furina. Her storyline was AMAZING, I think we can all agree the Fontaine Archon Quests were great. However, Furina was seen as a joke or mascot by her people rather than an actual mighty archon. They just followed her because her voice was loud and she played the role well. Furina was never strong or respected, not until AFTER she lost her divinity for good.

Ei is strong but not respected, Nahida is respected but not strong, and Furina is not strong nor respected.

And this isn’t me trying to say Zhongli and Venti are bad or anything. There’s absolutely a discussion for misogyny in Genshin, but I’m not really opening that can of worms right now.

I’m just looking at the dynamics we have for the Archons and am hoping that we get a strong and respected female archon at some point.

It could be the Tsaritsa for all we know! The Tsaritsa is incredibly badass and there’s some indications that the intentions behind the Fatui aren’t that bad but their actions are, so it could be that the Tsaritsa is our strong AND respected Archon.

Yet, Childe’s line about her makes me think that people have their doubts, so is she really that respected as we think?

That just leaves Murata, and I am hoping that if the resurrection thing is about her, then I hope Murata is very strong and highly respected.

But if the resurrection is about someone else, say,the Pyro Sovereign, then I am BEGGING Hoyo to make the Pyro Sovereign a woman. We lost a female archon to a male sovereign I don’t want it to happen again.

[sttoru]

your lover would do anything to have your attention on him and nothing or no one else. even if that meant competing with a stuffed toy.

☀︎｜tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, teeny tiny bit suggestive. implied age gap (reader early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). just satoru being a manchild honestly. reader gets called ‘pretty, princess, baby.’ little dumb drabble that is not beta read.

you were cuddling up to your plushie under a pile of blankets, protecting yourself from the almost freezing temperatures outside of your apartment. the television is playing your favorite show, your food is set on the coffee table and your lovely boyfriend is. . . taking pictures of you.

“come on — look at the camera, pretty girl!” satoru coos. he was blocking your view of the screen, indirectly forcing you to follow his instructions. the older man visibly melts the moment you actually do gaze up at him; his eyes soften and his smile brightens, “there y’go. so adorable.”

he snaps a couple pictures from different angles and even one from up close. his big hand cups both of your cheeks, squeezing them together and forcing your mouth into a deformed ‘o’ shape. the way you look up at him through your eyelashes was the cherry on top.

“have i ever told you how beautiful you are, princess?” satoru sighs as he takes one last picture. he puts his phone down and settles next to you on the couch.

you chuckle and instantly rest your head on his shoulder. he sneaks a hand under the blankets and rests it on the exposed skin of your hip, causing you to shiver from the contrast between your body temperatures, “you remind me of it every day.”

satoru huffs—a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. he’s holding back the urges to nibble on your cheek. you’re just so adorable to him; it’s hard to control the cute aggression he experiences whenever you’re around him.

“yeah, well, as i should.” your clingy boyfriend says matter-of-factly. you roll your eyes and scoot over to the other side of the couch, moving away from satoru in fear of him possibly stealing your blankets. he was known as the ‘blanket hogger’ in your relationship after all.

satoru frowns in response and childishly puts his hands on his hips, looking at you like you had just betrayed his trust. you stick your tongue out and continue watching your favorite show—snuggled up to the fluffy blankets and stuffed toy instead of your man.

“can’t believe i got replaced by some blankets and a dumb plushie.” satoru whines. he sighs dramatically and slumps back against the couch, crossing his arms. a pillow flies over to his side and hits him right on the head.

“it’s not dumb. that’s mean.” you glare at him with an offended expression, though were also proud of your excellent aim. you hug your hello kitty plushie to your chest and turn your body the other way. now it was your time to sulk.

little did you know that you’d still be no match to your sassy lover.

the older man falls to the side, continuing his theatrics and clutching his head, “and on top of all that, i’m portrayed as the bad guy. . . haaaah, all i wanted was to be close to my pretty girlfriend.”

that gains him another cushion to the head. satoru grunts and huffs before planning a counterattack. one that was much more direct, yet softer than your pillow attacks.

not a second passes by and your body is already getting robbed from the blankets. “hey, wait,” you click your tongue, though were physically too weak to do anything about satoru’s actions. his body crushes yours underneath him — your poor plushie squeezed between you and your lover.

his hands move quickly to wrap the covers around the both of you. satoru grins to himself as he snuggles up to you, making himself comfortable in your embrace. his face is buried against your chest and his voice is muffled as he speaks up, “oh, c’mooon. can ya blame a man for wanting to cuddle with his girl? exactly - no.”

. . . he didn’t even give you the chance to answer his question. you playfully smack the back of his head and satoru giggles. sometimes it really feels like you’re the older one in the relationship.

“fine, but she’s staying.” you give in eventually, though were demanding for your plushie to stay with you. not that satoru cared about that thing any longer: as long as he has you in his arms, he doesn’t give a damn about anything else.

the white-haired man answers with a simple hum. he even adjusts the stuffed toy so it could rest between both your bodies, patting its head with care before doing the same to you. his large hand settles on top of your head and he moves it back and forth—a gesture of affection he likes to do often.

“mm — say, baby. .” satoru yawns and rests his head back on your chest afterwards. he closes his eyes while he presses soft kisses to the swell of your breasts, “cuddling with me is way better than cuddling with your plushies, right? riiiight?”

there he goes again. you can’t help but snicker however. you grin devilishly and take time to think of a way to tease your lover, “hmmm—no, i think i’d much rather cuddle with my plushies.”

you hear that dramatic gasp and mentally prepare yourself to deal with an even whinier and clingier satoru.

[frmisnow]

˙✧˖ ?! — MORNING MISTAKES. - SUGGESTIVE

— ‧₊˚ — ☕️ : "oh wow, i just knew i was forgetting something when i leaving ??"

summary. your boyfriend forgets his coffee for practice on purpose every day just so you "happen" to come across it and bring it to him -- what if on one particular day it's hard for him to let you leave the practice room?

warnings/includes. idol! jungkook x f! reader, needy kook (rly rly doesn't want you leaving him), kinda fluffy?? idk he's so dear to me, also kinda SUGGESTIVE tho, pretty new relationship hinted?, making out, cursing, ass slapping/touching

god you felt like you were in highschool again.

that silly little tingling feeling in your tummy as you made your way through the large hybe building, the receptionist just giving you a quick glance with that familar smile that she has been giving you ever since kook has been making his annual 'slip-offs' or as he calls it: "morning mistakes"

i mean- he was so painfully obvious about it, every time you entered the black dance practice room that instantly made you feel small, his background dancers started giggling somewhere in the background sometimes even pushing him towards you, apropos him- who was always smiling like an idiot, like he just got caught red-handed on an accident yet at the same time his acting always being horribly poor.

this time when you came into the room he was immediately at the door, like he had been studying the clock analysing when you might show up, playing with his left lip ring, eyes wide doed as he pretended to be shocked at the coffee in your hand, "oh wow, i just knew i was forgetting something when i leaving"

before you could even think of what to respond, he kissed you so gently, his hands cupping your face with so much softness as the dancers cheered in the back, he hid his head in your nape like drunk, chuckling till pushing the both of you out the room, closing the door behind, the noises now muffled yet audible.

he kissed you once more, like he had been starved of your presence and lips for days as if he hadn't loved you in any way physically possible the night before, robbing you of any sleep.

pushing him away from your body, his hands which were just beginning to travel over you being seperated just for a split second, "you stink"

his mouth opened and closed again, that faint smirk he always did when you said any of your stupid comments plastered all over his face when he shrugged casually, "probably all the sweat from dancing with all those girls earlier, 3d is really perfor-"

you shutted him up right then & there and truthfully he was probably expecting it as his arms wrapped around your frame, greedy hands squeezing and gently kneading wherever they could - in this case your ass.

"don't do that jackass-" you mumbled against his lips, taking his hands away from your skin when in response he made that instant sound of disapproval, tiny 'tsk tsk' from his direction recognizable.

"my hands just slipped, i just had to- y'know," while he was speaking his hands 'accidently' moving to your tits, getting pushed away by yours instantly, "that's just how my hands work, you wouldn't get it" he rolled his eyes for comedic effect but whined as you guided his hands once again to himself and the choreographer shouted something something about his name VERY loudly.

he pretended not to hear a thing as he kissed you like he wouldn't be able to see you for years, like on the titanic, like forces where doing everything to seperate the both of you - which they kind of were, considering the choreographer was still yelling, footsteps approaching.

you squeezed his ass jokingly, slapping it quickly as you ran away from him, the second the choreographer stepped outside the door - immediately beginning to scold kook as all he could do is watch over your figure which was gradually getting smaller and smaller once you finally stepped into the escalator, blowing him a final dramatic kiss through the air, smiling yourself.

your ass would be getting the attention it really deserved tonight, that's what he promised himself for sure.

[unfinishedslurs]

aware of his bisexuality steve (steddie, buckingham)

“Is that a hickey?” Comes out of Steve’s mouth without permission. But there it is, bright purple and red against the slope of her neck. She’s been walking kind of funny this morning, too. He’d assumed her period came early, but… “Rob, did you—“

Eddie fumbles the coffee mug he was pulling down. Chrissy freezes, face turning white with fear. Robin whips around, face bright red, and slaps a hand over her neck. 

“Bathroom!” She yelps. “Bathroom now!”

“Wait,” Eddie says, setting the mug down with trembling hands. “It was me. Sorry, man.”

Steve stares at him, unimpressed. Why the fuck would he lie about—

He looks at Chrissy again, who takes a nervous step back, and it clicks. 

“Right,” he says, nodding quickly. “You. You gave Robin a hickey. Had totally awesome sex that she didn’t even tell me about.” He directs that last bit at Robin pointedly. He told her almost immediately when he lost his guy-ginity. Traitor. “Yep. Sure. Got it.”

Eddie blinks, confused. Robin buries her face in her hands. 

“Oh my god, calm down,” she groans. “That’s not going to work. Steve’s cool.”

“Cool?” Chrissy asks, still looking ready to bolt. 

“Super cool,” he assures her. “The coolest. So incredibly cool, even if my best friend didn’t even tell me when she lost her virginity.”

“Steve!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he says. “But I am going to need details, Buckley. We can go over what worked, and what needs more oomph.”

“Oh my god, can we talk about this anywhere else,” Robin groans, at the same time Eddie asks, “What, so you can get off on it later?”

“What,” Steve says. 

“You think two girls are hot, is that it?” He’s got a sneer on his face now, but Steve’s more observant than Dustin gives him credit for. Even if he wasn’t, it’d be hard to miss how hard his hands are shaking, the nervous tilt to his mouth. 

“Ew.” Steve’s face screws up. “Dude, no. It’s Robin.”

“Hey, fuck you,” Robin breaks in, from where she’s started comforting Chrissy. “You thought I was hot for at least a summer.”

His mouth drops open in betrayal. “We agreed to never talk about that again!”

“Can’t help being sexy,” she coons. Chrissy giggles wetly. “You wanna get married, Harrington? Have my babies? Stay home and raise six little nuggets while I bring home the bread?”

“I hate you,” he informs her. “Hate you so much. We’ll have a nice, heterosexual wedding and share a sad, heterosexual kiss, and you’ll carry me over the threshold of our nice, heterosexual house, and we’ll have boring, heterosexual sex that gives us nice, heterosexual babies, because we are so heterosexual and happy in our suburburban house in our nice little heterosexual town.”

He’s honestly kind of proud of himself for saying heterosexual so many times. Usually he fumbles words with that many syllables, especially after that many times in a row. 

Chrissy is outright laughing, now, endearing little snorts making their way between giggles. Eddie is looking between them like they’re a puzzle he can’t piece together. Robin grins.

“I’ll cuck you with the secretary.”

“Not if I cuck you first. You’ll be away all day in that office of yours, and I need someone big and strong to carry all the new furniture I ordered.”

“I knew it! I knew Timmy wasn’t mine!”

“Oh, but I couldn’t help myself,” he swoons. “Mark was just so sweet, with his bulging biceps and hand flexes, all hot and sweaty from helping poor little me while you were away! You know I’m weak to curly hair and brown eyes, Rob, how’s a man supposed to resist?”

“Fag,” she says, not without affection. 

“Dyke,” he shoots back. 

“Cocksucker.”

“Carpet—“

“Okay,” Eddie breaks in, clapping his hands. He and Robin both startle, and so does Chrissy from where she’s been watching them like a particularly interesting tennis match. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Robin lost her virginity and didn’t even tell me,” Steve says immediately, like he’s tattling to the principal. 

“Steve doesn’t seem to understand the concept of waiting,” Robin retorts. 

“I told you when I had gay sex,” he whines, and Eddie chokes. “I hate you. See if I ever give you tips again.”

“Oh, is that what you meant?” Chrissy asks. “Please don’t stop. They were good tips.”

Robin flushes all the way down to her toes. 

“You like boys?” Eddie wheezes. 

“Oh,” Steve blinks. “Yeah? I thought you knew.”

“You thought I—how would I know?”

The fuck is that supposed to mean? Steve’s been flirting with him for months!

“Robin always says we can sense each other! You sensed her.”

“You told him?” Eddie’s mouth drops open, and Robin looks sheepish.

“She didn’t have to,” Steve snarks. “You’re flagging in Hawkins, man. Was I supposed to miss it?”

“You know what flagging is?”

“Again, in case you missed it, I fuck men.”

“Fuck,” Eddie mutters. “Fuck! Christ, I can’t believe this. You’re, like, the epitome of heterosexual. I spent half of high school having to hear about how much pussy you were getting. Why are you not straight?”

“Wow, Eddie,” he deadpans. “Are you saying just because I like men and woman, I’m not queer enough? That’s kind of homophobic of you, man.”

“Yeah, Eddie, wow,” Robin says. “I thought you were better than this.” 

“Fuck off,” Eddie says. “I feel like I need to lie down. My entire worldview just shattered.”

“I have a couch?” Chrissy offers shyly. “Or a bedroom, if you need a minute away.” Fuck, Steve kind of adores her. Especially since she’s apparently vicious n bed, if the five other hickies he counts just from Robin bending down a little to whisper in her ear are any indication. Good for her.  

“Don’t worry, Eddie,” Robin says, with a glint in her eye that means he’s either going to love or hate what comes next. “If it helps, Steve’s never fucked a man in his life.”

Eddie’s brow furrows, looking between the two of them. “So…you’re just making fun of me?”

He looks a little angry now, and Steve can’t make heads or tails of this conversation because, “What the hell, Rob, yes I have—“

“Oh, so suddenly you’re the one doing the fucking?”

“Stop making fun of me for taking it!”

Eddie lets out an honest to god moan that he immediately slaps his hand over his mouth to cover up. “Right,” he says fervently. “Okay. I need to lie down, like, for real.” 

They watch him stride down the hall, so fast he’s almost running, and slam the door closed behind him.

“I could totally top,” he mutters to Robin as something that sounds vaguely like muffled screaming echoes down the hall. “I top girls all the time. It’s not my fault prostates are a gift from God.”

“Uh, you top because all the girls you fuck are from small town Indiana. If one of them brought out the strap you’d drop to your knees so fast—“

“That’s—I like topping!”

“Your favorite position is cowgirl. Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

“I will show Chrissy your baby pictures,” he hisses. Robin makes a face at him. Chrissy nods excitedly from where she’s still tucked under Robin’s arm. 

“Oh what’s that?” Robin practically shouts. “You like being pressed against walls and ravished? You want someone to tie you up and have their filthy way with you? Is that what you said, Steve?”

Another noise from the bedroom. He narrows his eyes at her. “What are you doing?”

“Helping,” she says sweetly. “You’re both hopeless.”

“I told you he’s shy!”

“Eddie?” Chrissy asks. “Shy?”

“Yeah, okay, I was confused too, but I figured it was the romance! He told me he hasn’t actually been in a relationship before, I assumed he was nervous to take that step.”

“Yeah, but dingus,” Robin says sweetly. “You’re missing a puzzle piece here. He thought you were straight. He thought he was flirting with his straight best friend he didn’t have a chance in hell with, and then he finds out that said best friend likes taking it up the ass and men with brown eyes.”

“Oh,” Steve says, realization dawning. “Oh, fuck. What if he doesn’t like me like that?”

Robin smacks the back of his head. “Why are you stupid?”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” Chrissy says. “Like, really don’t have to worry about that.”

“I’m not coming over tonight,” Robin says. “I’m gonna stay with Chrissy again. Er…if that’s okay?”

“That sounds amazing.” Chrissy beams, and Robin turns red again.

“Yeah, I’m going to stay with Chrissy again tonight. You are going to invite Eddie to stay the night when he gets done with his little crisis, and then we’re getting lunch at the diner tomorrow and you can tell me about it before our shift.”

“Right,” Steve says. “Right, I can do this. I’ve invited guys over before, how hard can it be? It’s just Eddie. But that was hotel rooms, not my house and my bedroom with my shitty wallpaper. And it’s Eddie. Fuck, what if I’m shit at it? Robin, what if I’m actually bad at sex and everyone who’s ever said I was good was lying because they didn’t want to hurt my feelings? Oh my god, I’m totally bad at sex.”

“Woah, dingus, slow down. I think we took the mind meld too far, you’re turning into me.”

“If it helps, I don’t think you’re bad at sex,” Chrissy says. Steve and Robin look at her, and she flushes. “Because of the tips! Not because—I’ve never slept with you, but some of my friends did, and I got three orgasms out of last night, so…”

“Oh thank God,” he breathes. “I was worried for a minute.” Then he raises an eyebrow at Robin, and holds out his hand for a high five. She slaps it, begrudgingly proud of herself, and then takes the hand to pull him into a headlock that’s honestly more of a hug than anything. 

“You’re fine,” she whispers in his ear. “You’re great at sex, as you keep telling me. What’s more, you’re funny, charming, handsome, brave, caring—“

“Aww, Robin, are you getting sappy on me?”

“Plus Eddie literally moaned in front of you when he found out you bottomed. I really don’t think there’s a way to fuck that up.”

Steve grins. “He did do that. I’m going to make so much fun of him later.”

“So,” Eddie says with a smirk, “men with brown eyes?”

“Hey man, don’t look at me. Blame Jonathan.”

Now Eddie looks stunned, mouth dropping open. “Byers?” He says, sounding betrayed. “You have a crush on Byers of all people?”

Steve feels offended on Jonathan’s behalf. “What’s that supposed to mean? Jonathan’s a good guy!”

“I guess.”

“What do you mean you guess? He’s sweet, passionate, good with kids, nice eyes. Can pack a punch. I mean, what’s not to like?”

“Uh, didn’t he steal your girlfriend?”

He waves that off. “That was, like, years ago, man. We’re cool now.”

“Right, okay,” Eddie mutters. “Well have fun with Byers, I guess.”

It clicks. “Oh,” he says. “Oooh. You’re jealous.”

Eddie splutters. “Jealous? I’m not—I don’t—you’re jealous!”

“Oh, am I?”

“Yes,” Eddie says resolutely, not looking at him. 

“Right,” Steve agrees. “Well, if I am jealous, maybe I should know that I got over Jonathan years ago, and have since moved on to brighter, hopefully more attainable pastures than my ex’s ex.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“A different man with brown eyes?” He suggests. “Who is also good with kids, and passionate, and…” he trails off, suddenly realizing all those times Robin made fun of him might not be based on nothing. “Oh my god, I have a type. Shit, I have to tell Robin she was right.”

“I figured that was a common occurrence.”

“Shut up. Where was I going with this? I had a point.”

“You were telling me how awesome I am?”

“Oh, suddenly it’s you we’re talking about?”

“I mean,” suddenly Eddie looks shy, and Steve can’t help but think even with the change in context he might have been right when he told Robin Eddie was nervous about being in a real, romantic relationship, “isn’t it?”

He feels himself smile, slow and wide and probably more revealing than he means it to be. “Yeah,” he says, in a tone he knows Robin would call soppy, “it is.”

[pinkcarnatixns]

leah williamson | on your side

synopsis your girlfriend gives you enough attention to last a lifetime when you wake up with your period [2K] contents more bf! leah, menstrual pain, slightly suggestive?

Waking with piercing abdominal pain and the morning sun barely shining through your curtains, you dreaded the familiar feeling in your gut.

Even worse than the dull ache of your abdomen was having to leave the warm cocoon your girlfriend had created around you while you both slept. Propping yourself up on one elbow from where you had been laid on her chest, you tried to jostle her sleeping form as little as possible. At the slight adjustment, she let out a series of angry grumbles, your body freezing up at the sound. 

You waited for a tense moment, subconsciously holding your breath as the crease between her eyebrows softened back out and her hands relaxed where they had been touching your naked waist. Peeling her arms off your body carefully, you took care to watch that her even breath didn’t change as you manhandled her enough to let you escape unnoticed. Watching her calm expression, golden hair splayed out manically around her, you felt a flash of frustration at the time with your girlfriend that biology had robbed you of this morning. 

Slipping out of bed, the change of temperature nipped at your exposed skin, clad in only a bralette and small shorts so as to not burn up next to your personal space heater. Desperate to return to your koala of a girlfriend and the affection you had been promised for the day off, you opted out of a sweatshirt and briskly padded over to your adjacent bathroom. What you hadn’t accounted for was the lightheadedness that accompanied the action, and as black spots danced in your vision, you grabbed onto the cold counter for support as you guided yourself down to the floor.

Anticipating passing out, you were surprised at the familiar, tender caress of Leah’s hands on your arms. Her touch helped ground you, and as your vision cleared it was to the sight of her crouched over you, looking terribly worried. Her next words were so gentle you nearly missed them, not wanting to spook you. “Hey love, you back with me?”

You slowly nodded your head, not wanting to be any dizzier, and let out a shaky sigh. “Yeah, I’m sorry I woke you Lee, just stood up too fast and got a head rush.” 

Usually being the one to coo over her and adoring taking care of the girl, you always hated making her worry. On many occasions, if Leah thought there was anything slightly off with you, she would drop anything and everything to dote over you- usually meaning that her dignity was the first to go. You were constantly teased for her actions when that side of her came out at training, quick to blush at your teammates’ poor caricatures of your girlfriend’s sappiness. 

Truth be told, you still got nervous butterflies when your girlfriend’s full attention was on you, even with nobody else around. However, you had both agreed to a time where you needed extra attention- your period. Leah, also dealing with debilitating cramps and other side effects of her endometriosis, knew what you needed and was quick to drop anything for you the same way you had done countless times for her. 

Her eyes flitted around your body, like she was looking for what was troubling you. Normally she knew when your period was going to come before you even did, but for it to come at this time was highly unusual. “What’s wrong honey?”

“I think I’ve got my period. I wanted to just deal with it and go back to bed.” You sighed, eyes welling up a bit at the embarrassment of having to be rescued from the bathroom floor and the frustration of it having to deal with it when you weren’t due for another week.

She took you into her arms, and you let out a relieved shaky breath at her just smelling like Leah. The faint scent of her shampoo and soap helped greatly to ground you, but as she pulled away slightly you kept your eyes on the tile, shy under the weight of her worried gaze. Her nail tickled the underside of your chin as she prompted you to meet her eyes, yours still a bit misty. 

Taking her appearance in, you giggled wetly and wiped away the few tears that had escaped. Your girlfriend, for all of her beauty, had her fringe sticking up wildly at different angles- looking like she had been electrocuted. To her chagrin, this had upped your mood greatly, the confused look that graced her face at your uncontrollable laughter spurring on your giggles even further. Calming down, your lips stay upturned in what you’re sure is a horribly lovesick smile as you reach your hands up to tenderly brush her hair back into place with your fingers. Letting them fall to the side of her face, you can’t help yourself but to drag the blonde into a heartfelt kiss, leaving her to bracket your legs with her arms to avoid toppling over at your sudden enthusiasm. 

Pulling away, her face is left rosy at her realization of her previous appearance and at the tender act of affection so early in the morning-  breaking out in a matching dopey smile. Delicately removing herself from your intermingled bodies, she stands and holds her hands out to you. “All right giggly, how about you get cleaned up and we can still have some cuddle time?”

You nod as she delicately helps you to her feet, leading your hands behind her back and letting them go to wrap around you once again- fondly kissing the top of your head as you embrace. In a similar state of undress to you, her bare skin feels wonderful against yours and staves off the slight chill from the cold bathroom tile. Reluctant to break apart, she looks you up and down once again before kissing your cheek for good measure and leaving you. “Let me know if you need anything, okay? I’ll be in the kitchen.”

You snort at the thought of your girlfriend’s cooking abilities, and can hear her yell as she makes her way through your shared apartment. “I heard that!” 

Exiting the bathroom, you feel warm at the sight of the bed made, your favorite sweater of hers perched atop the endless blankets that are normally kicked off in favor of your lover’s body heat. Slipping it on and already missing the blonde, you’re happy to find her exactly where she promised.

“All set?” She's stood in front of the stove, and your hands snake around her middle, nodding your head from its resting place between her shoulder blades. Trying to glance at what she’s making from your position, you tiptoe to look over her shoulder but can’t quite get a glimpse. Finding that venture useless at her height and your unwillingness to detach from her to get a proper view, you nuzzle back into your previous position but miss the earlier feeling of her skin on yours. 

You’re suddenly very glad for the oversized nature of the sweater she slipped on, as you suddenly slide under the back of it, making her jump at your cold hands. Letting out a satisfied hum at her soft skin warming your forehead, you’re jostled at the way her laughs echo throughout her whole body. “Someone’s clingy today huh?”

You pinch her, making her jump, and your voice comes out muffled from under the fabric. “You promised me cuddles and are now depriving me of them. Don’t think you’re so funny.”

“Come on out grumpy, you have to eat first and then I promise you can get all the cuddles you want.” She coos at you, and you consider pinching her again for her condescending tone but leave the warm cocoon you had created anyways. She turns around, resting her hands on your hips and stunning you with her sly smile that gets her out of the trouble she always finds herself in. 

The content that spreads all the way through to your toes is broken when she abruptly places her hands much lower, on your thighs- and hoists you up against her before placing you gently on the counter. You yelp at the action, and smack her arm. “Leah! A little warning would be appreciated!” 

The cold bite of the countertop is quickly quelled by the heat emanating from the stove she’s sat you next to. You’re about to complain further before she shuts you up with a hand on your thigh, causing you to suddenly feel much warmer. She shoots you a smirk at the way your words die on your tongue, and you half-heartedly roll your eyes at her, not very convincing with the way your lips can’t help but curl up at the edges. “No more complaints from the missus I see!”

She smiles wider at your lack of response, beginning to rub circles into your skin with one hand, as she turns back to stirring with the other. You glance over at what she’s making and are pleasantly surprised at what looks to be a pretty good assortment for breakfast sandwiches. You soften at the sight of cut up avocado adorning your beat-up cutting board, the girl forever hating anything green but paying attention to your love. Your gaze drifts back to your girlfriend to find her staring intensely at the eggs she’s stirring around, clearly trying her hardest to not let them get too… crispy.

You admire her in the comfortable silence that’s instigated by her concentration, furrowing her brow while placing ingredients gently atop one another. Momentarily, your gaze is brought to her hands as she turns the stove off, moving to dexterously put everything into place. You Blame your heightened hormones for your momentary distraction, as if you aren’t always smitten for the other girl no matter what she does. 

Broken out of your daydreaming, she appears in front of you proudly, plate in each hand. You resist the urge to laugh at the way yours is teetering slightly, stacked with almost everything in the kitchen that she knows you enjoy. “Voila! A meal fit for a queen.”

Grateful for her work but also just wanting to be close to the girl, you peck her lips gratefully while stealing your own plate and traveling over to the dining table- her hand gripped tightly in yours. Standing next to her, she quirks a confused eyebrow at you as you prompt her to sit down first. As she does, you place your plate next to her, and promptly sit down right in her lap. 

She laughs, but is quick to steady your hips with her hands, maneuvering you onto one of her thighs so that she still has space to eat her own breakfast. “Well hello there beautiful lady! A hello would’ve been nice but I’m sure not complaining.”

“Well I guess when I see such a handsome woman I really just can’t help myself! You can’t blame me!” You punctuate your jest with a pout, moving to place a sweet kiss to her lips before turning to your food. She melts at the gesture, frozen in a stare at your preoccupied form. At the weight of her loving gaze, you once again pinch her, a lot softer than your earlier attack. Snapping out of her stupor, one of her hands reaches for her fork while the other creeps under your sweater- returning to soothing motions over your aching muscles.

Barely able to keep your hands off each other, you both finish your meals in record time, the plates abandoned as you drag her back to your bedroom. Needless to say, she more than fulfills her earlier promise, and for the rest of the day you only leave her arms when she insists on getting you medicine or water. Falling asleep after the fifth movie of the day, you’re sure that she’s the best medicine on the market.

a/n: happy leah day everyone!! this was a super sweet request i couldn't help but to write. they are still open!

[i-must-feel]

‼️‼️SPOILERS FOR LISA FRANKENSTEIN AND POOR THINGS‼️‼️

It is so hilarious that Lisa Frankenstein and poor things came out at the same time bc on one hand we have

- movie thats really focused on advertising itself as feminist

- uses the moms body as basically an incubator and completely robs her of her singular act of agency right after roe v wade got overturned

- proceeds to sexualize said mothers body while also sexualizing her child’s immaturity plus gratuitous sex scenes showing how she’s “exploited”

- absolutely refuses to show the “female version of Frankenstein” with any scars or body hair she would absolutely be imperfect and wounded like it’s giving let me go shave my hairless legs

- written and directed by a man

- kinda weird and neurodivergent/mentally ill coded and is mean to the characters about it

And that’s the one winnning all the laurels while the movie with

- a female writer and director

- 1 sex scene which is very consensual and shows literally nothing

- multiple female characters all of which display agency and have wildly different personalities

- the characters are allowed to have trauma and be fucked up but also the first person killed is a lady calling the main character insane (bad) and threatening to lock her up because she doesn’t like her

- accurately shows SA without being gratuitous

- male lead doesn’t have any lines except reading poetry to the girl at the end, other than that there’s like three guys who talk

- real pretty visuals

- hilarious

- the male lead lacks a voice and very specific anatomy but it’s still emphasized how he’s still very much a man

- kills the guys who commits SA

- her sister stealing her crush doesn’t ruin their relationship, she’s still emphatic to her

- SO MUCH set design detail and it looks SO PRETTY

-camp

And THATS the one flying under the radar?!? My guy Lisa Frankenstein is what poor things wishes it was

[twobluejeans]

HEARTBREAK ON TOUR!

charles leclerc x famous!reader

summary: in which the lavender haze has been lifted. or in which america’s it couple splits.

part 1: don’t start, part 2: wtf does ET know?

faceclaim: varies but for rn madison beer

ally’s radio 📻: heavily inspired by taylor swift and joe alwyn’s breakup bc im still in mourning. a lot of tswift references 🫶

liked by italyrry, parisy/n, and 83,783 others

y/nflorals Y/N GETTING EMOTIONAL DURING THE 1 LAST NIGHT IN GLASGLOW! via loveonshow

View all 22 comments

user4 okay but the fit fire

sweetnothingy/n my show my song ❤️‍🩹

user5 man she even looks pretty when she cries this is not fair bruh

back2decemberl/n this was a religious experience. i nearly died

loveontourhs FRANCE GOT ROBBED.

dontblamemey/n SHE REPLACED INVISIBLE STRING WITH THE 1?? ARE YOU SHITTING ME?

leclercy/n @dontblamemeleclerc i’m gonna kms

liked by haileybieber, norizzland0, and 122,728 others

enews photos caught of ‘lover’ singer #y/nl/n and #charlesleclerc fighting outside a restaurant in london tonight. click link in bio for more info on the it couple’s nasty choice of words.

View all 122 comments

arianagrande take this down immediately. please respect people’s privacy for once oml

chary/n @arianagrande ARIANA WHAT ARE U DOING HERE??

devil_leclerc this was not the family reunion i was expecting 💀

badbloody/n this feels so invasive and wrong on so many levels

trishapaytasnotreal oh this looks nasty, poor bby 🙁

liked by lewishammi,midnightrainy/n, and 608 others

lordpercevalupdates i don’t wanna scare anyone even more but…

View all 12 comments

user1 girl what

y/nmybeloved “i think i’ve seen this film before…”

charles.y/n @y/nmybeloved don’t even.

allmychampagney/n fell to my knees at walmart

ally’s radio 📻: i swear this gets better 😭 pls im a star 🙏

planning on making this a multi-series so i if u want a tag, pls lmk!! 💋.

[jungkookstatts]

As Thunder Rolls

[Summary]: You know Taehyung is the one. You knew it since the first day you saw him, when thunder rolled through the sky. But your lives don't collide. They might be too different to choose both.

[Theme]: Rich Reader, Law Student Reader, Construction Worker TH, Poor TH, Rich Girl Poor Boy AU

[Rating]: 18+ for sexual themes, sexual content, unprotected sex, kissing, making out, marking, angst, familial separation, topics of class, and triggering opinions of some characters

[Word Count]: 8,296

[A/N]: First TH fic!! I hope it is enjoyable~ This might be my last fic for a little bit. Going to be focusing on school and working really hard until the summertime :)

People say that when you fall in love, your life develops new meaning. They say that your life changes as you fall, and you watch it spiral out of your control over a silly feeling you can’t help.

You can say that the people, whoever they may be, are correct. Love happened to you quite unexpectedly, and completely out of the box you put your goals for the future inside.

Taehyung happened during the city's worst monsoon season in over 50 years. His rain-stained jeans and dirty white construction t-shirt clung to his skin, showing you all of his tanned glory as the rain fell angrily. You stood on the top step of your sister’s corporate building, looking down at him three steps below you.

“You got a spare umbrella, by chance?” he asked you. Caramel-colored, wet hair covered his forehead. But you could still see the discomfort in his eyes due to the harsh rain.

Looking at your own umbrella in your grip, you shook your head, telling him that this was your only one.

“You know a place around here where I can find one?” he asked.

“I’m not familiar with the area,” you explained.

“Me neither,” he smiled as he looked down at his red Converse.

There was an uncomfortable feeling in your chest. You felt bad for the guy, clearly well-underprepared for the season. Your designer coat and accessories terribly clashed with his, an obvious difference in class confronted you in the face. There was a feeling of fear, you remember. Back then, you used to be one of those people who thought terribly of people like him. Thinking that he’d ask for your Burberry umbrella and never return it. You thought maybe he’d pull you aside and forcibly rob you of your money just because his shirt had a few stains and the brand name of the city’s lower-end construction company was written on the fabric. You associated him with the worst of the worst, just because of his class. Or rather, assumed class.

But those eyes captured your soul. They were warm, and his smile sent medicine to your heart, healing all those presumed thoughts and replacing them with the benefit of the doubt.

“I think there is a 7/11 around the block,” you recalled from your memory.

Thunder rolled through the city skies, and you clutched your umbrella harder. You never liked thunderstorms. There was a sense of urgency to get home to avoid any more of this growing storm, and fast. But this guy — you wanted to continue talking to him.

He raised an eyebrow at you, looking to his left.

You raised your chest, nervously pointing in the opposite direction.

“Down there,” you corrected him.

“Ah,” he smiled. It was faint, but you noticed his upper lip formed the shape of a heart before another roll of thunder drummed through the sky. You winced, and his smile faded.

“I’ll let you be on your way, then,” he said. “Thank you.”

You nodded, and he suddenly turned his back, walking down the sidewalk in the direction of the vague 7/11 down the street. He hiked the back collar of his t-shirt over his head, creating a small hat to shield his eyes from the unwanted shower. You watched the exposed skin on the small of his back as raindrops trickled into the hem of his jeans.

Suddenly, your heart skipped in your chest, and you did something your carefully formed character would never allow.

“W-Wait,” you stumbled. The click of your heeled boots rang in your ears as you walked down the small set of stairs and onto the sidewalk.

The man turned around, his posture straightening at the sight of you.

Quickly, you went to him, covering his head with your umbrella.

“I-I’ll come with you,” you offered.

His close proximity flooded all of your senses. Your fingers visibly began to shake, and you had to remind yourself to breathe when you saw how tremendous the height difference was between the two of you.

“Thank you,” he softly said.

At that moment, you knew your life changed. You saw yourself in his eyes, maybe staring a little too long for two strangers who hadn’t even exchanged names yet. But you looked into them, and somehow the raging storm had transferred from the sky into your heart.

You became a jumbled mess after then, as Taehyung had exchanged his name with yours, along with all of his habits, hobbies, and love.

Every day after that was filled with giggles and kisses and sleepless nights wrapped in his sheets. He had shown you the other side of the world, and you accepted it with him by your side. He took things from you you couldn’t imagine anyone else being worthy enough to take. All your firsts, and what you hope, all your lasts, too.

But something had been sitting at the back of your mind ever since you laid eyes on him, creating an unsettling feeling.

He was, indeed, nowhere near the class you grew up in. Living in the worst part of the city with his younger brother and sister and parents in a small, 2-bedroom apartment. He worked overtime on most days; all of his earnings he gave to his mother was to pay rent. His brother had just become old enough to help out. However, Taehyung explained that he caught him a few times slacking — the young boy claiming that he was working but instead at the casino with his friends. His younger sister was 6 years old and by far the sweetest young girl you knew. She became someone like your own sister, someone you chose to connect with on a level you weren’t able to do with your own siblings. His father fell ill a few years ago and became unable to work a demanding job. Instead, he and his wife work at their own small grocery store on the lower level of the building down the street.

His family welcomed you generously, never once commenting on your class, never once making it a topic of conversation. They called you their daughter.

What was unsettling was not the circumstances involving his family. It was the circumstances involving your own.

You hadn’t mentioned him to your parents by choice. You knew how they would react, especially considering your father had already begun selecting the sons of his most trusted colleagues to propose a marriage. Though you are not ashamed of Taehyung, your family would most definitely be. They would never accept him as your love. It would be too tarnishing to their name, too embarrassing to taint the family with someone whose house costs less than their dining room table.

You kept Taehyung out of it, which doesn’t necessarily mean he won’t stop asking about meeting your family. He’s serious enough about you to want to take things further. But it puts you in an awkward situation, like now. Gasping into the sheets of his bed, his dick pulling out of you as cum falls down your thighs.

“Baby?” he pants, hovering over you and kissing up your shoulder to your cheek. He’s still catching his breath, as are you. He just railed the fuck out of you and still begs for conversation? You will never understand this man.

“Hm,” you ask, resting your head on your forearm in a desperate attempt to control your breathing.

“I want to meet your parents,” he bites the shell of your ear gently.

You groan loudly, tired of this topic of conversation. It seems to be the only thing on his mind these days.

In the two years you two had been dating, Tae was finally able to afford a place of his own while still helping his family. His brother stepped up and managed to land a good position at a nearby company that really helped with the family finances. Hence, Taehyung’s newfound freedom from the cramped space with his family. But ever since he moved into his new apartment two weeks ago, he’s been set on (a) “christening” every nook and cranny of his new place with you and (b) meeting your family.

“Baby, can we not talk about this right now?” you press your fingers to your temple before running them into your hair.

“We never have talked about it,” he reminds you. You pause, knowing he’s right. You’ve always swayed him away from saying anything about the topic other than simply asking to talk about it.

“Why would you want to meet my parents,” you begin. You feel him smile a little, happy to start this long-awaited talk.

“Because you met mine,” he slides his elbows under your armpits, resting his chin on your shoulder. You feel secure when he’s holding you like this, his chest embracing your back as he lets his weight rest on your body. If only the moment wasn’t ruined by the topic of conversation.

“I don’t want you to meet my parents,” you finally say. You know his heart broke a little from your words, being such a family man. But you feel obligated to be honest about this.

“What? Why not?” he crinkles his eyebrows together, pressing his nose into your cheek.

“Because, Tae,” you sigh into your palm. “They’re not…nice people.”

He lets the two of you sit in silence for a while, and you know he knows what you mean by that.

“It’s because I have no money, isn’t it?” he finally lets out.

You grab his hand, drawing circles into his palm.

“Essentially,” you sigh. It doesn’t feel good to admit that. Disappointment floods your veins for him, wishing your family was less shallow. Maybe then, your response would have been different. “You know I don’t care about that stuff. But they…they do.”

“Your siblings?” he asks.

“They’re all like that,” you continue, playing with his knuckles. “I’m the only one, it seems, that isn’t.”

He plays with your hand, sliding into your fingers to hold it.

“Do you wish you were?” he whispers seriously.

“No,” you laugh.

Finally, you turn around in his embrace, looking at his face from beneath him. This man is truly the most gorgeous person you’ve ever laid eyes on. Your palm holds the soft skin of his cheek as you search his eyes.

“Growing up, I used to be a little bit,” you admit. “But then I came to university. And I met you,” you rub his cheek with your thumb. “And you kind of flipped my whole world around.”

“Sorry,” he smiles. “Wasn’t the plan,” he pecks your lips. “I just needed an umbrella.”

You chuckle at that, pulling his face against yours to sear your lips into his. He accepts you, breathing into the kiss with chapped cherry lips and a big stupid blush on his face.

“I just want their blessing,” he clears his throat. “I-Is all.”

“For?” you peck his lips again.

“For me to date their daughter, amongst other things,” he laughs through his nose. “It’s also been…a little while.”

You do feel bad, as he had introduced you to his family about three months into dating. It’s been two years, and your family doesn’t even know you are dating someone.

“You’ll meet them when they have a reason to meet you,” you sigh against his nose. “They’re like that. It has to be on their terms, not mine or yours.”

“Hopefully, that’s sometime soon,” he says before kissing you deeply. You let him, wanting his lips to erase the scenarios you’ve let flood into your head of Taehyung meeting your family. You kiss him, asking him to heal you again, to give you the endless positivity he has within himself. But you can’t shake it this time around. You have a bad feeling about it, every time you think about making things just that more official with your family meeting him. You know Taehyung is it for you. But will your parents accept that? Your gut twists and turns at the thought, your answer spelled out for you.

___

Law school used to be interesting.

Back when lectures were shorter and the professors actually cared about their job, you had a fun time. Now, you sit through your lectures with the palm of your hand dragging the skin of your cheek upward as you lean against it. You stare at the oldest fart of a professor talk in circles, “womp wo-womp womp”, like in the Charlie Brown phone scenes. The only thing that keeps you from dozing off is the thought of your date tonight.

Last week, Taehyung had been working at this new site at this development on the other side of the city. They put in a fountain lake, with three willow trees (your favorite). Your boyfriend, of course, knew this and set up the idea of a picnic date along the new Willow Tree Lake. Just the thought alone makes you giddy.

These days, Taehyung has been working terrible overtime in an area near campus. Something about the pipes being plugged with slow-forming concrete from a newer company that started off just a few months ago. They fucked up a lot of the city’s piping, and of course, the company Tae works for has been assigned to fix all of their damage.

Needless to say, you feel like you haven’t seen him in ages. Only quick cell phone calls and tired texts in the small hours of the morning and night. You miss him terribly, and your body springs to life when the professor calls the end of the lecture. It’s your last one of the day, and you nearly run out to make your way to your car, ready to start preparing for your date tonight.

You’re met with a surprise, however, when you exit your dorm.

A chalky hand grabs onto your wrist, intertwining his fingers with yours, before pulling you into his chest.

“Hi, baby,” he smiles sheepishly.

“Tae!” you squeal, letting go of his hand and jumping into his arms. You wrap your arms around his neck, his own around your waist as he spins you in the open air of the campus. You giggle against him, quietly screaming when he goes a little fast. Eventually, he lets your feet feel the ground again, and you feel a strong urge to kiss him. It’s been so long.

“You’re so chalky,” you brush at his face, white powder smearing on his skin.

With that, he shakes out his hair onto yours, white dust falling onto your skin.

“Ah! Tae!” You shield your face from his assault. But he’s unrelenting, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you in for a kiss.

You let him kiss you, his big hands stroking your cheek. You don’t let him go on for too long, still not one to be too fond of PDA like he is.

“Oh, fuck,” Taehyung’s smile fades when he looks at your dress.

“Wha—” you look down at your dress, your white Chanel dress, covered in soot and powder and dirt, transferred from his clothes onto yours. “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” he gulps, running his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I wasn’t thinki—”

“It’s okay,” you smile, holding his hand. “Nothing my dad won’t buy a carbon copy of with a good excuse. To him, I fell. Plain and simple.”

Your words don’t do much, his sorry expression written all over his face still. You cup his cheek, reassuring him.

“What are you doing here, anyways?” you change the subject.

“The pipe issue I told you about ended up going into some apartment building. They sent me up there and the ceiling fell in. Hence all the…white stuff and dust,” he shows you his powdery hands, as if his cheeks and hair weren’t enough to prove his story. “Anyway, the civil engineers ended up needing to go back to the main building and find a new plan to go about it. So they sent us all home early. Thought I would come and surprise you.”

“It worked,” you kiss him again.

“I should probably go though,” he cuts the time short. “I want to shower before our date.”

“That would be nice, you’re right,” you laugh. “I’ll see you at 7, then?”

“Mhm,” he squeezes your hand again before looking down at your dress one last time. You can tell he’s still beating himself up over it when he tightly runs his hands through his hair and sends you a tight-lipped smile as if still saying sorry. You send him one back, letting him know it’s okay. And with that, he leaves your presence.

You’re alone until you reach home a little past 4. When you walked into your house, the last thing you were expecting was your eldest sister, brother, and parents waiting for you in the dining room.

“D-Did I miss something?” you laugh awkwardly. They all seem to be looking at you, disappointment or disgust written on their faces at the sight of your dress. You do your best to hide it with your purse.

“No,” your sister starts. “But we seem to be missing the part where you let dirty construction workers make out with you in public.”

You feel your heart sink to your feet, a cold heat spreading throughout your body.

“Susanna,” you pinch the skin between your eyebrows. “It’s not like that.”

“Please, enlighten us, then,” she snobs.

You take a breath, ready to explain yourself. But your father stops you.

“Invite the boy over,” he calmly states.

“What?” all four of you say at once.

“Dad, are you crazy?” your brother laughs. “He’s a construction worker.”

“Ren, please,” you attempt to control your anger. You don’t like the way they are talking about him right now. Only mentioning his job and ignoring the rest.

“What, don’t like me talking down on your pet?” he smiles, doing his best to get under your skin. It’s working, that’s for sure.

“Seriously, darling, what are you thinking?” your mother puts her hand on your father's arm.

“The boy clearly has feelings for my daughter,” he sets down his brandy on the dining table. “And, if I’m not mistaken, she has the same feelings.”

Your sister looks at you in disgust, wondering how you could ever fall for someone so low class.

“Besides, he owes me a good explanation for destroying your clothes,” he clears his throat. “That was custom designed.”

—

You run to your car after the ‘meeting’ your family welcomed you home with. Your hands shake and tremble, trying to start the car without bursting into tears.

Without even calling him, you race to Taehyung’s apartment, knocking on his door with panic laced in every vein of your body.

He opens it, a big smile warming your heart. But it quickly fades at the pale look on your face.

“What’s wrong,” he pulls you into his apartment.

He’s showered since you last saw him. He changed into his PJs, not yet ready to get into his outfit for your date tonight. On any other day, you would be struck with the comfy boyfriend look, ready to pounce into his arms and hold him close until the sun rose. But not today. Today, you have uncertainty flowing through your veins. Could this be the end? Could this be the start of something new? What will happen between now and midnight?

“Baby, talk to m—”

“My parents want to meet you,” you interrupt him.

“What?”

“T-They want to meet you,” you say again. “Actually, my entire family wants to meet you. Today. Tonight. For dinner. At my house.”

You watch him take it all in, his expression changing rapidly into emotions you can’t really put a label on. You’ve never seen this expression on his face. You’re sure it’s a bit of excitement, as he’s always wanted to meet them. But also a little bit of worry, as you’ve told him what they think of people like him.

“I-Is this about the dress?” he asks worriedly.

“Kind of!” you panic, your hands running through your hair. Frustrated tears flood your eyes. You’re just so frustrated with this situation. With your sister, with your brother and dad. With everyone but Taehyung. He doesn’t deserve this. “My sister saw us today, apparently. A-And she went to my parents, a-and they were waiting for me when I got home, along with my brother. My dad was the one who suggested you come over, and I don’t know why. I can’t read what any of them are trying to say.”

“Hey,” he grabs your shoulders. You start to cry, fat tears falling down your cheeks.

“This is not how I wanted today to go,” you cry-laugh to yourself.

“I know,” he kisses your forehead. “Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

“I don’t know what to do,” you candor as you fall into his neck, sobbing against his shirt.

His big palms rub your back. You’re sure he’s a little shocked right now. You’ve told him about your family. About what kind of people they are. You’re sure he’s scared, too. You hate this. You wish you could just run away and avoid it all.

“Let’s start with figuring out what I’m going to wear, yeah?” he gently smiles down at you.

___

Dinner is awkward. So awkward.

It’s quiet, and your leg bounces rapidly in your seat.

Your parents hadn’t let Taehyung sit next to you. Rather, he sits across from you, unable to soothe your nerves with a hand on your thigh or palm.

Your sister and brother sit next to you, your parents on either end of the table. There are two empty seats next to Taehyung, him being closest to your father.

You’re sure your siblings had interrogated him a little when your mother forced you to change into something else when the two of you got here. Clad in a pink flowy dress and a braid, you nervously made your way down the stairs and into the dining room, only to find your boyfriend in front of his seat, nodding to the space between your siblings as your own.

Since the appetizers came in, no one had spoken a word.

It’s terribly uncomfortable, and you try to distract yourself by silently telling Taehyung to put his napkin in his lap instead of next to his plate. Your brother laughs, and you jab your elbow into his side.

“So,” your father starts. His voice sends a shock down your spine. “I’m sure you have a good explanation for the dress.”

Your nerves spike the highest they’ve ever been. The dress isn’t really that important. Had it been anyone else, maybe someone your father knew or liked, the dress would be replaced without a word the next day. His pressure on the dress with Tae makes you think he will use it against him, causing you to bounce both of your legs up and down rapidly.

“Yes, I—” you start, but your father raises his palm slightly, telling you to stay quiet and let him answer.

“Yes,” Taehyung clears his throat. “I apologize, sir. I was simply being careless. I was excited to see your daughter, and had acted before realizing what she was wearing.”

“That was custom made,” your sister starts. “By Chanel.”

Taehyung doesn’t seem to recognize the name, making your sister smile snottily.

“It’s a brand,” she shoves her food into her mouth with a snobby tug of her lips.

You clutch the end of your silverware, trying to transfer all the things you wish you could scream into the piece of silver metal.

“Enough,” your father stops her interrogation. He has made it clear he would be the one interrogating tonight. “I do have to ask, though,” he turns his attention toward Tae again. “What makes you think you’re worthy of seeing my daughter?”

The table is silent, everyone’s mind empty but your own. You could think of a million reasons, maybe even more than that, as to why he deserves you. But does Taehyung think he deserves you? You thought you made it clear within the past two years that he does, but his silence speaks for itself.

After a few more seconds of being silent, your father laughs a little through his nose.

“I am aware of your financial situation so that already docks a big chunk off your worth,” he starts again.

“Father,” you try to stop him.

“Your occupation is less than fulfilling,” he continues. “Surely, you must know that affection alone cannot support her.”

Taehyung’s mouth is so dry, that he wants to drink the entire ocean. But he lets it sit in discomfort, the truth ringing through his ears like a bomb dropped right in front of him.

“You care for her, son,” he sighs. “I can see that,” your father sets down his brandy, resting his elbows on the armrests of his chair, and latching his fingers together over his lower chest. “So, why don’t we just end this here. Before it gets any deeper than it is.”

You see Taehyung’s heart drop to his stomach. You wish you could go over to him and put it right back in his chest for him, but your father continues to drop it further and further until it eventually breaks in two upon impact with the hard floor.

“I’ll give you an ultimatum, just to be sure you understand,” your father starts. “You go back to your construction work and help your parents with their grocery business. Cut her out of your life. In return, I’ll forget about the dress. About the some 70 thousand dollars you owe me for the destruction of it.”

“Father, please,” you cry, starting to stand. "It was my fault." But your sister grabs your shoulder and pushes you back down onto your seat.

“If you’re smart, you’ll understand how long that would take to accumulate on top of your other finances to return,” he continues. “If you truly care about her, you’d let her find someone who can meet all of her expectations and give her a comfortable future.”

“No,” you start, but Taehyung silences you with his gaze.

He looks to you from your father, feeling the weight of his words. You look at him, seeing how he believes every word your father is saying. You see it ring in his ears, and you know exactly what his next words are going to be.

“Sir, I—” he rasps, defeat flooding his lungs. This is not about the dress. He’d spent the rest of his life paying your father back if it meant he’d let him have you. This is about your future that he knows he can’t support; about the fact that he knows the best he can give you is nowhere near the luxury someone else can. “I just want her to be happy.”

“In this world, love is not enough for that,” Your father stands up, his hand on Taehyung’s shoulder. “I’ll show you to the door, son,” your father says.

Taehyung stills, his attention suddenly transferred to the calluses on his palms. He examines them, then the scuffs on the rim of his sleeves. It serves as a reminder, that even the best things he owns cannot match up to the expectations served tonight. He knows you don’t care. He knows you’re better than this. But surely it might become easier with time for you. Your father would find someone genius, with wealth beyond imagination. You will forget about him with time, and your wounds will heal. You’ll have an army of new cars, go to fancy banquets with designer dresses, a penthouse in the city, a smart-suit husband, and beautiful children with loads of worth to their names. He thinks about what he could give you, and it amounts to close to nothing. He’s already given you everything he has, and it’s not enough to keep you safe.

He thinks about this before standing in his seat. Your breath hitches in his throat, watching him give you up, your father’s hand on his back guiding him through the dining room, neither sparing you a glance.

“No,” you cry, standing up. Your sister tries to stop you again, but you shove her hand away.

“Y/n L/n, if you chase that boy, right now will be the last time you step in this house!” your mother slams her hands on the table.

There are words you wish you could say. So many emotions and slander and curse words you wish you could shout and spit in her face.

“I'm happy with him,” is all you can say. "I love him"

“Love is but a word,” your mother rolls her eyes. “You will forget about him in two weeks! That boy cannot support you. He can be replaced.”

“He can’t be,” you counter. Your chest rises with words, an essay might come out of your mouth, but you’re silenced when your father comes back into the room, Taehyung gone from your sight. You silence yourself, knowing you have to make a choice. Without even thinking, your feet move, and you’re brushing past your father, opening the door to you’re home and welcoming the rain.

Your parents wouldn’t have his presence in your life, banishing him from your home after he showed up in the nicest clothes he owned. They forbid him from ever seeing you again, using the price of your stained clothes as a threat if he ever were to lay eyes on you again. But you ignore that, running after him, soaking yourself in the rain once again as you chase him.

You call his name, shouting it into the street. He ignores you, and you feel you’re going crazy the more you call out his name until he finally turns around in quick anger. By this point, you two had already gone well down the street, far away from your posh, gated house. He grabs your cheeks in his palms, pressing his lips harshly against yours. You kiss him with fervor, letting the rain soak your pink dress and braided hair. He does the same, not giving a care in the world about the time he spent trying to make himself look nice for your family. He kisses you as if it would be the last time he would ever feel your lips against his again.

“We can’t do this, Y/n,” he breaks the kiss. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes close as his jaw clenches from his own words.

“Tae,” you sob, cupping his cheek. He covers your hand with his own, squeezing it tight.

“You know we can’t, Y/n,” he shakes his head, looking into your tear-filled eyes. “They will never accept me.”

“I accept you,” you sniffle. “Please don’t leave me, Tae. I accept you.”

“It’s not enough,” he whispers.

“N-No,” you shake your head.

But he already began letting go of your hand, his heel taking a step back.

“T-Tae, no,” you grab his other hand, but he forcibly makes you let go. You watch him turn on his heel, his back replacing his chest.

“Kim Taehyung,” you sob into the open air of the empty street. He does nothing, continuing his path to wherever he is going. “Taehyung!” you scream, but he doesn’t stop.

Your chest rises and falls so quickly, that you feel dizzy. Panic rises into every vein in your body, watching him grow smaller and smaller as he distances himself from you. Never in your life had you felt like it was between life or death between two choices. But god, was it clear which option had been labeled death, and which one was life.

“Marry me,” you shout. You watch his feet stop, both shoes parallel to each other. The panic in your veins slightly subsides at the fact that his distance stopped becoming larger. And then you say it again. “Marry me, Taehyung.”

He turns around, and you begin walking—running—toward him.

“Don’t say that,” he angrily breathes through his nose once you reach him.

“Marry me,” you say it again.

He looks up, despite the rain, his jaw clenched.

“I can’t go through life without you,” you cry, shaking your head. “I can’t do it.”

“You can,” he denies.

“I’m so in love with you,” you laugh, wiping the tears from your eyes. “I love you.”

His hands clench, balled into fists. God, did he love you more than the world itself. More than himself. But he can’t be selfish. He can’t rip you away from your family.

“And what about them?” he nods his head in the direction of your house.

“They can’t replace you,” you cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. “No one can replace you.”

“You can’t replace your family, Y/n,” he says. “I’m just a guy. Probably the least qualified to have you,” he laughs through his nose. “I can be replaced. They cannot.”

“They have given me a choice,” you cry. His words hurt. You wish you could make him see just how irreplaceable he is. You cannot replace your family, but you cannot replace him, either. “I already made it the minute I ran out of the house.”

He looks at you, finally locking eyes with yours. You feel the panic fade when he looks at you, and you can’t help but feel that this is right. That you’re making the right choice.

“Y/n,” he starts, shaking his head.

“I chose you a long time ago,” you go on. “The minute I shared my umbrella with you, I chose you. All your boxy smiles and shy laughs. Your job; your family. You. Your heart.”

A tear falls from his eye, his jaw still clenched.

“I can’t give you this life,” he takes your hands from his cheeks, holding them tightly between your soaked bodies. “I-I will never be able to afford law school or a gated mansion in the city. Or a white Chanel dress,” he whispers the last part. “Your life — I can’t rob you of it.”

“You are my life, Tae,” you rub your nose against his. “That stuff doesn’t matter. I want you. Forever.”

He gulps, the look in your eye speaking nothing but the truth. It scares him because of course, he wants the best for you. But he is unsure of himself, of what he can give you other than his heart. But the way you look at him, as if that is truly enough for you, makes his worries subside. You’re choosing him. Between life or death, you took a side, labeling him as life.

He grabs your waist, his arm pulling you into his frame as he sears his lips onto yours. Big, callused palms cup your jaw, holding you against his lips as if you’d try to escape. This time around, the kiss is hard, so needy and loved. You feel loved like you’ve never felt before. All the panic in your heart fades and is replaced with a need to keep him close. You assume he feels the same, his strong arms lifting you around his waist. You laugh against his lips.

“I love you,” you chuckle, almost in disbelief that you could love someone so much. He’s given you something you thought you’d never receive in the world your parents brought you into. You feel fresh with him, like you’ve been born again.

He kisses you again, confirming he feels the same before he sets your feet back on the wetted sidewalk.

“Let’s go,” he takes your hand.

“Where?” you follow him.

“My place,” he looks back at you.

You come up to his side, holding his arm as you walk in the rain. It was just a walk until thunder struck again, and the rain started falling ten times harsher than it was before. It causes you to shriek, and Taehyung only laughs, beginning a sprint while you follow after him.

You two ran to the bus stop, where you kissed some more, before the bus arrived and you shivered in the air conditioning of the large vehicle until it arrived on the other side of the city.

His place became a little bit of yours. You had unofficially moved in until now, as you stumble in his arms into the elevator, making out like horny teens until the number for the 15th floor rang in his ears and he pulled away.

The kisses you press to his neck make his whole body feel weak, his fingers unable to find the key to his apartment amongst the many in the single key ring chain he owns.

“Baby,” he whispers desperately. “S-Slow down, m’ trying to find the key,” he nervously chuckles.

You only run your hands under his soaked shirt, feeling the divots of his abs under your fingertips. Working at a construction company certainly did have more perks than one.

Finally, he seems to have found the key, slipping it forcibly into the lock and turning it until it opened the door to his apartment.

“Come here,” he lifts you up onto his hips, walking you inside his place and pushing you against the door, making it close all the way. He’s sure to lock it after tossing his keys somewhere on the neighboring kitchen counter as he kisses hot trails up your neck. They’re hasty kisses, and so so needy.

“T-Tae,” you grip his hair.

The feeling makes him groan, his hand forming a fist against the wall in pure self-control.

You slide your fingers under his shirt again, except this time, they go all the way up. You force his shirt off his skin, and he lets you take it off as his hands firmly grip your waist. He uses his new grip to support you when he moves you off the wall, his legs guiding you through his apartment as you kiss his neck once more. This time, to leave marks.

You latch onto his sweet spot so tenderly, and he grips your hips hard enough to leave his own marks on your skin.

With one hand, he pushes open the door to his bedroom before landing you on the soft sheets of his bed. You’re overwhelmed with him. The smell of his clean sheets floods your lungs as he traps you underneath his body.

You gasp when he slides his hands up your waist, his fingers coming to your back to find the zipper of your dress.

He waits for your permission, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he plays with the zipper.

“Please, Tae,” you allow him.

He nods against your neck, telling you without words that he’s going to undress you.

You sit up for him, making it easier for him to carry the fabric down your hips. You’re revealed to him in your soaked bra set. Nothing fancy, just nude colors to hide your undergarments beneath your dress.

But despite the plainness, you watch him admire your body, eyes flicking back and forth, trying to remember what you look like underneath the rest of your clothes. You help him, reaching behind you to unhook your bra yourself.

It falls off your shoulders and your skin perks with the cold air mixing with your wet skin.

“Make love to me,” you ask. “Please.”

Taehyung’s mouth goes dry. He’s seen you naked countless times. Fucked you like a rabbit in heat multiple times in just a day. But god, did hearing you ask him to make love to you settle the weight of your proposal from earlier. You really do choose him. And suddenly, he feels like it is the first time he’s ever looked at you naked. Like it was the first time he was going to enter your body.

He felt nervous. So, so nervous. But never so sure of anything else in his life. He knew he wanted you as his forever. But was too selfless to ask you to leave your prosperous life for his. For the longest time, he thought he was living on borrowed time with you. That one day, his first and only love would eventually leave him. His dreams are coming true, and he doesn’t know how to process that other than following your exact command.

“Tae?” you cup his cheek.

He sits on his knees, each one placed next to your thighs as you sit below him.

You watch his throat bob as he swallows, his face leaning into your touch. You bring him back to life, his body finally moving to trap you against the sheets again.

With soft lips, much less needy than the prior ones you two have shared today, he kisses you. He’s gentle as his hips press against yours. You gasp against his lips, the feeling of his clothed cock against your thin underwear stirring things inside of you.

You wrap your legs around his hips, crossing your ankles to secure his embrace over your own.

Taehyung groans, the friction making his desire uncontrollable as he grinds against your core.

“T-Taehyung,” you gasp, head falling back against the sheets. He takes this as an opportunity to trap the skin of your neck with his teeth, gently biting at your flesh in soft confessions of his love.

Your breasts push against his bare skin, feeling overwhelmed when he takes your pert nipple between his fingers, pinching them slightly, just enough to drive you crazy.

It’s all too much, his lips, his fingers, his hips grinding into you, sending waves of pleasure straight into your core. You just want him already. You want to feel full of him.

Your heels start the process, digging at the hem of his jeans as if you could get them off without your hands when they’re so securely fastened by his belt.

“Fuck,” he moans, finally granting your wish as he pushes off of you and unbuckles his belt.

Dark brown eyes admire you, laying on his sheets, giving yourself to him completely. You stare back at him, watching him push his jeans and boxers down to the floor, stepping out of them slowly before he hooks his slender finger under your panties.

“A-Are you sure?” he asks you, hiking your legs up as your underwear slides off your smooth skin.

“Yes,” you nod.

You hear your panties fall on the floor, joining the rest of your clothes, when he slowly spreads your legs, creating a place for himself as he falls on top of you again. Strong arms come under your shoulders, and you slide your hands up his neck, one arm securing him close to you, the other feeling a rapid heartbeat under his chest. You gasp when you feel the head of his cock brush gently against your thigh, so close to your core, but far enough away to make you want to beg for it. You, too, feel like it’s the first time all over again. When he took your virginity and your heart and wrote his name all over your skin.

“You look like you’re having second thoughts,” he shakily breathes above you, a small nervous smile on his lips.

“No,” you laugh shyly through your nose, looking into his warm eyes. You see yourself in them, and you’re reminded of the moment you first saw yourself in them two years ago.

“Are you scared?” he asks, lining himself up with your entrance. You know he isn’t referring to sex, but rather everything that comes after. Of your parents. Of everything you’ll have to sort out. But you know it is nothing that you won’t do alone. The man above you has made it clear that you will never feel alone again.

“A little,” you admit with a small smile.

“Me, too,” he kisses your cheek softly. With a push of his hips, his face falls into your neck, a small groan coming from his lips as you gasp and claw at the skin of his shoulder.

“Oh, T-Tae,” you moan sweetly, tangling your fingers in his hair as he slides out just to slam back into you once more. You feel giddy, a small raspy laugh coming from your throat as he develops a pace. He’s so perfect for you, fits you like a glove in more ways than one. He fills you completely. Over fills your cup with all of his love and giggles and smiles. You can’t get enough, it’s almost comical.

“Faster,” you whine, arching you back into him.

He obeys, grabbing your thighs and pushing them upwards until they’re hooked on his shoulders.

“Fuck, Y/n,” he moans, slamming into you with a newfound passion. Your nails slide down his biceps, some drawing blood from the feeling of his dick ripping you open. It makes you choke beneath him, your head falling back as he fucks you full of his cock. “S-So perfect.”

His nose brushes against your collarbone, using your neck as support when he leans his forehead against it. He takes a deep breath, breathing in your scent before he takes your hips firmly into his palms and holds you against the sheets. Your legs fall naturally, too weak to hold themselves up. But he doesn’t seem to care, instead using his new grip to pull you into his hips, pushing you deeper onto his length than you think you’ve ever gone before. The tip of his head kisses your cervix, and you wince in pleasurable pain when he slides out and slams against it again.

“A-Ah,” you whine, unsure how to feel about this new sensation. The man above you is sure, slowly but harshly pushing into you. His sureness makes you swell, and you feel like he is truly combining his body with your own the deeper he goes.

“Y-You,” he nearly slurs. Your pussy squeezes the head of his cock so justly, he feels his vision going blurry. Everything about you makes him explode. His dick, his mind, his heart. Everything. He can't even finish his sentence.

He goes faster, slipping past your folds with your slick sliding down your thighs and onto his sheets.

“T-Tae,” you panic, your high coming in quickly, setting warmly at the pit of your stomach just seconds away from release. “Tae, I’m gonna cum.”

“F-Fuck, me, too,” he moves faster, harder. His hands touch you, your skin following in flames the further his hands slide up your waist. He groans uncontrollably when you clench around him, your warm heat spreading down your walls as he makes love to you. “Y-Yn,” he whines.

“Say you love me,” you gasp, your voice nearly a whisper as you cream his cock.

“I love you,” he kisses your lips. It’s wet and so disgustingly sweet, you force him to lean himself into your body again, to use it to cum. “I love you so much.”

You watch him shut his eyes tight, his cock twitching inside of you, begging for release as he fights it, probably wanting to last longer for you, to give you a second orgasm before he lets himself cum.

“Cum for me, sweet boy,” you kiss his cheek.

“A-Ah,” he moans, his nose rubbing against yours. You squeak when he slams himself into you, harsh and raw, pushing past you as he fills you with ropes of white cum. “Oh, fuck,” he shakes, fists gathering the fabric of the sheets tightly as he falls into your neck, dick twitching as he cums hotly in your walls. He can’t control the noises, he’s never felt like this before. Like nothing else matters but his future with you.

His dick slips past your cervix, exiting your walls with loads of cum falling out of your abused cunt.

He falls on top of you, the two of you catching your breath with closed eyes and heavy limbs. Until you start laughing.

“What?” he chuckles with you. Your laugh is contagious.

He comes up to look at you, your cheeks red and your pupils shot with love.

“Nothing,” you shake your head. You look at him, cupping his cheek as he switches his gaze between your eyes and your cherry lips. “I-I’m just so happy.”

He laughs at that. Himself full of the same happiness.

“So?” you poke his cheek, raising an eyebrow.

“So?” he raises his own.

“Will you?”

“Will I…?”

“Will you marry me, silly,” you roll your eyes. Although it doesn’t seem nearly as sassy as it is supposed to, not with a giant smile plastered on your face.

“Oh,” he smiles back. “I guess.”

“'You guess'?!” you pinch his shoulder. He winces but laughs as he pulls you into a hug, switching himself on his back with your hips straddling his own. Cum leaks down onto his softening cock, but that is the last thing on either of your minds. His big hands feel the smoothness of your thighs, as yours play with the skin of his chest. If he didn’t know every one of your quirks, he would have taken it as you being silly. But he knows you’re just a little nervous about his answer.

“Yes,” he takes your hand, kissing your knuckles. “Of course I will. But, let me do it properly.”

You physically relax, and pure happiness floods your system.

“We never do things properly,” you remind him, rolling your eyes with a smile again.

“You’re right,” he acknowledges. “I-It might be a while, but at least let me buy you a ring.”

“Okay,” you bite your lip, hiding a closed-lipped smile. It doesn’t work, of course, and the two of you are left a stupid mess as you start your forever together.

___

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2024]

[dr-qian]

break in pt.2 // m.l

burglar!mark x rich!reader

pt.1 , pt.3

he's never coming back...

you already told yourself that multiple times, but you were still standing on front of your dining room's window, looking around for any signs about mark's arrival.

"honey, what are you looking for?" your mom sweetly called out your name, making you halt your actions.

"oh, nothing, just nothing" you shook your head, but it's not convincing enough for your mom to believe you.

'clearly, there's something going on' your mom thought. but she just doesn't want to bother you more.

her and his husband's jewelries went missing a few nights ago, but it didn't bother them that much since those were actually old and boring to wear now.

they also planned on going on a trip to a another jewelry shop someday to buy more.

"well, just sit down for a while and eat 'cause dinner's ready"

you walked over to a chair with a slumped back, sat down with a defeated sigh, and ate.

he's never coming back...

he already got what he wanted...

you told yourself again, just to make you let go of him already.

meanwhile, mark is back on the streets.

stealing phones and wallets as usual, with his best buddy haechan.

"yo dude, you should get that guy" haechan held onto his left shoulder, came close to his ear and pointed at a middle-aged man in a luxurious white suit, busy typing on his phone as he stands in the middle of a sidewalk.

"why can't you?" mark looked at him and asked.

"'cause i'll be handling that poor old lady right there" haechan pointed at the lonely granny on the other side of the street, waiting for the green light turn into red so she could walk, using their walkers.

"and if i helped them cross the street, she would give me lots of money!" haechan smiled at the thought.

"and if she doesn't?"

"i'll steal their purse" haechan said, as mark shakes his head.

"whatever, i'm on that guy.." mark said before walking towards that middle-aged man.

he ignored haechan's "good luck" behind him as he thinks of a way to rob that guy without being caught.

mark then, stands too close to him, but seems to be unnoticed. he looks around the area, pretending to admire it to avoid suspicions from other bystanders.

his hands slowly reach up to the man's left pocket, the fat wallet with credit cards and cash are coming into his view.

holy shit...

mark cautiously dipped his hand into the man's pocket, his fingers finally coming in contact with the leather texture.

'i got it! i got i--' mark slowly lifts up the wallet until

"MARK!"

"huh?" he muttered as he turned his head around quickly to spot a familiar girl running up to him fastly.

"hey wait! no!" he said, but you already hugged him.

it was you.

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

you thought that maybe going around the city with your parents can take your mind off him.

and oh boy, it didn't.

you stilk think about the kiss with him, every now and then.

it's driving you insane.

"do you like to buy something, sweetie?" your mom asked, sat beside your father on the driver's seat, looking at you through the rear-view mirror inside the car as she applies her lipstick on.

"yeah i guess so, i'm planning to get new shoes, my classmates already saw my old ones multiple times" you told them, thinking about the time your other rich classmates made fun of you for wearing the same shoes in school thrice.

"okay! me and your father will just be hanging out at the jewelry shop right there" your mom said, pointing at a jewelry shop you didn't even bother to look at.

they dropped you off to the side, as the car you were just in drives away to another direction.

you strolled around the city, finding some nice shops to shop in, and thinking of mark as well...

hmm, i wonder what he's doing right now

you thought to yourself, until you spotted that oh so familiar black beanie.

you couldn't believe it!

"MARK!" you screamed before running up to him. the people passing by suddenly stopped to look at you until continuing to walk again.

the middle-aged man was nudged a little, so he decided to move away from what's happening.

mark frowned at him leaving, and then looked down at you, still hugging him.

"oh my god, i thought i'll never see you again" you said to him, basking in his warmth.

his hands mindlessly went to hold onto your waist and push you gently, hoping you'll get the signal from him to let you go.

"don't you know i've waited for you for so long to come back?!" you looked up at him with some cute puppy eyes. you hope.

"I..." mark clearly doesn't know what to say as he looked to the side and spotted haechan watching them, sporting a beige purse on his arm with a smirk on his face.

"help me" mark mouthed at haechan, but he just laughed at him.

mark looked down on you.

"uhh, okay, it's nice to see you again too, but i have to go" mark said to you, finally making you let go of him.

"huh? where are you going--" you asked as mark quickly leaves the area. you couldn't find him anymore.

he left you confused and dumbfounded.

AGAIN.

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

"so you're telling me, you kissed this girl so you won't get snitched out, and now she's in love with you and stalking you around the city?" haechan says to him, his ass sitting on the poor and abused sofa with his feet propped up against a wooden table as he pulls out the contents of the old lady's purse one-by-one.

they're currently at their secret hideout, haechan's basement.

"yeah, I clearly didn't know what to do next, it was so stupid of me. fuck!" mark says back, pacing back and forth on front of haechan, his hands on his hair.

"well, that's good because you will now be able to get closer to her and her family. they will let you in their mansion, and if you got in, you can steal everything you want and just leave immediately like you were never there" haechan reasons, suddenly pulling out an inhaler from the purse, then throwing it aside.

"what? no way, i would never do that!" mark replies to him, stopping to look at haechan's face in a disgusted way.

"geez, it's just an idea" haechan said, putting his hands up to tell mark to calm down and let it go.

"well, whatever, she's your problem anyway and not mine..." haechan chuckled as he pulled out a bundled cash from the purse counting it immediately, ignoring mark.

mark sighed and plopped down beside haechan, watching him count the money.

"yo, you have to give me a share of tha-" mark says as he feels up his now empty pocket.

wait, huh?

mark quickly checked his pockets to make sure he's not crazy, but he's really not and his wallet totally gone!

it only has $16 in it, plus his old school ID and his family picture that he cherishes.

where could he even dropped or misplaced that.

better yet, who even stole it?

"yo dude, did you take my wallet?" mark nudged haechan's shoulder to ask him.

"i would never steal your empty and ugly-ass looking wallet" haechan stated to him, still looking at the huge money he's holding in his hands, counting it over and over again.

"i'm serious dude!"

"i really didn't!"

if it's not haechan, then...

oh no.

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

after mark left you alone again in the city, you were not really disappointed with it.

you were on your bed, kicking your feet up in the air as you look at mark's old school ID and family photo.

oh he looks so damn cute.

you really didn't think mark wouldn't feel you taking his wallet while hugging him.

you laughed at the thought, guess he wasn't the only one with robber skills after all.

'i hope he tries to get his wallet back from me'

[leilakisakabiri]

Liar, Liar (Gavi)

Summary: Gavi thinks you’re cheating on him. 

Warning(s): None

A/N: Thank you guys for all the love on The Promises We Keep. My inbox is open!

Word Count: 3.3k+

Masterlist

Gavi still remembered how alone he felt that day. It was the day of the semifinal for La Liga, one of the biggest games of his career, and one of the most important days of his life, and instead of being excited and focusing all his attention on the upcoming game, all he could think about was you.

Were you getting undressed for someone else right now? Did you even love him anymore?

He felt his heart tug painfully, and his mind wandered as he got lost in the what-ifs and maybes surrounding your relationship. Or lack thereof now he guessed.

Never in his life did he think he would ever be in this position. Growing up he had never loved anything as much as he loved football, and when he finally made Barca’s A team he swore he never would. However, that slowly started to change when you came into his life.

You were the cute girl next door, spending a year abroad in Barcelona and attending the same school as his hometown friends. The first time he had met you was when you were walking towards your apartment, hands filled with a random assortment of papers, textbooks, and chargers. The stack of textbooks partially obstructed your view and you missed a step causing you to go flying into the midfielder.

You let out a yelp as you hit the boy, papers falling to the ground.

“Oh shit. I’m so sorry! I didn’t see the step.” You frantically apologized, bending down to gather your things.

The boy stood still.

You looked up at him from the ground, “Oh my god you’re not hurt are you?” You asked, stressed about the fact that you could have injured the poor guy.

“I’m fine.” He said, finally bending down and helping you collect your things.

You both stood up and stared at each other for a second, unsure what to say before you broke the silence.

“I’m Y/n.” You said, hand outstretched to greet him.

“Pablo.” he introduced himself, reaching out to shake your hand, laughing at your formality.

You felt your cheeks turn red, “Sorry was that too formal? I’m still trying to learn the customs and stuff. Guess Google didn’t do a good job.”

The boy smiled at you, “No problem. I’m guessing you’re not from here then?”

You shook your head, taking a minute to adjust the various things in your arms, “No I’m an exchange student actually, from the States.”

Gavi nodded, “That explains the accent.”

Your cheeks turned even redder, “Haha yah. Still working on that.” You meekly responded, breaking eye contact.

Damn it. Barely one week in a new city and you were already known as an outsider.

It was silent after that and you took it as a sign to move on with your day, “Well thanks. And sorry again.” You said, beginning to walk past him.

“Let me help you.” Gavi said, turning to face you.

“Oh no worries, my apartment’s right here.” You gestured pointing to the door next to the one he had come out of.

“You’re Mateo’s neighbor?”

You looked at him surprised, “You know Mateo? Yeah, I live next door.”

He nodded, “We’re childhood friends.”

“So do you go here as well?” You asked.

The boy shook his head, “Nah, just visiting.”

“Ok well see you around I guess.” You said, waving bye.

He gave you a wave back.

“Oh, also most people carry bags around for their stuff here!” Gavi shouted at your retreating figure.

You spun around, seeing him facing you with a grin, both of you walking backward, “I got robbed!” You exclaimed.

Gavi felt himself let out a soft smile at the memory before his brain caught up to his heart and then he was drowning in heartache all over again thinking about what he had just lost.

“Joder!” Gavi yelled, his hand slamming against the locker as he saw the call go to voicemail again.

“You ok hermano?” Pedri asked, entering the empty locker room, finding the younger boy sitting on the bench, looking extremely upset, hands shaking, and breathing labored.

“I think- I think Y/N’s cheating on me.”

The words came out barely above a whisper, and Gavi ducked his head the second he said them, the situation hitting a hundred times harder now that he had admitted it to himself.

Pedri looked at him in shock.

When he had come into the locker room, looking for a very late Gavi, he hadn’t expected to find the midfielder not only unchanged but also in such a vulnerable state.

“Why would you say that?” Pedri spoke carefully, treading lightly, not wanting to make Gavi more upset.

Gavi pulled something up on his phone, handing it over. It was an Instagram story.

A video shared by your friend meant to share the club she was at, but also unknowingly sharing you in a very compromising position.

Pedri watched as the video panned to you in a black lace dress, drink in hand, as a guy twice your size leaned into you, hands possessively laid on your waist, pulling you into him far too close to be considered friendly.

You were only in the video for a second but there was no denying it was you. You were wearing the same dress you had worn for Gavi’s birthday dinner just a few months prior.

He bit his lip not knowing what to say. He thought it could have been a misunderstanding, but seeing the video he was beginning to doubt it.

He didn’t say anything handing the phone back to Gavi.

The boy looked up at him, eyes glistening, “You saw it too right?”

Pedri sighed, “Yah. I’m sorry Pablo.”

Gavi slowly nodded, turning away from Pedri as he fought to keep his emotions at bay.

“Fucking great. Now she won’t even answer me.” He muttered throwing his phone carelessly to the side.

“And what’s the matter with you two?” Xavi walked into the locker room, seemingly not pleased with how long it was taking the two to come out.

“Game starts in twenty and you’re both dilly-dallying like some preschoolers. Get moving. Gavi get changed.” He ordered.

“Coa-” Gavi began to speak, but Xavi cut him off.

“I don’t care. Deal with it later, game first. Out in five.” He pointed to both boys before walking out.

Pedri gave Gavi one last pat on the back, “Don’t think about it now. Focus on the game.”

“It’s the only thing I can think about.” Gavi admitted.

“How could she do this? Does she not care about me, about us?” Gavi’s voice wavered, and he took a sharp inhale trying to calm himself down.

Just talking about it was emotional. He couldn’t even imagine how having a conversation with you after would feel.

Would you pretend nothing had happened? Was this your way of letting him know you guys were over? Would he ever even get to talk to you again?

There were too many unanswered questions and Gavi felt himself getting overwhelmed as he considered the possibilities.

He grabbed his jersey, forcing himself into autopilot as he put it on. He felt like he was floating, watching over himself as he did all the things he was supposed to. He watched as he joined his teammates, listened to Xavi’s instructions, and took his place in the starting lineup.

Walking onto the field, even the thousands of cheering fans did nothing to interrupt his thoughts, all of them consumed with you.

He sang the anthem, and then before he knew it he was standing in the middle of the pitch, kicking the ball into play.

The first fifteen minutes of the game went as normal, he did everything he was supposed to, running to assist the attack whenever possible, and staying back whenever the opposition got too close to the goalpost. To everyone, he was playing exactly how he normally would, and while he was grateful that he didn’t seem to be costing his team too much, he would be lying if he said he was dedicated to the game, and he hated himself for that. Mentally he was still in the locker room, replaying the moment he had seen the post over and over again in his head, memorizing the way you had looked, in his favorite dress, pressed up against someone that wasn’t him. The pain was all-encompassing, something he had never felt before, and all he wanted to do was plead with you not to leave him, to love him like you had promised.

The referee blew his whistle, indicating a foul had been made. Gavi looked up at the noise being pulled from his thoughts, he squinted seeing something behind the shouting ref.

His breath hitched. Suddenly he was crashing back into himself. It felt like being soaked with ice-cold water while simultaneously being pricked by the same needle repeatedly.

He thought he was going to vomit.

Because there you were, like you always were, standing in the family section, in his jersey, a smile on your face as you waved down at him.

Based on the fact that you were even here he assumed you didn’t know he knew.

That for some reason got him angrier than he had ever been.

He clenched his jaw, shaking his head as he turned his back to you.

So you were just going to pretend. Go and hook up with random guys and then come back to him acting like an angel.

Your smile slowly fell, confused by his reaction. You were sure he had seen you, but his expression had been anything but happy. He looked pissed.

Anna, who was sitting beside you also noticed, “Why does he seem mad?”

You shrugged your shoulders, a frown on your face as you sat back in your seat, “I have no idea.”

Your brain raced through everything that had happened in the last few days, trying to pinpoint what you did for Gavi to be mad at you. You couldn’t come up with anything. You had just got back from France, spending the weekend away for your friend’s birthday, surely, he couldn’t be mad about that. You had already talked about it and he had practically shoved you out of his car when you had asked,

“Y/n I’m serious why would you even ask me that? Of course, you can go, I’m not going to control your life.” He exclaimed, shocked by your question.

You had asked him if he was okay with you going to spend the weekend with your friend in France, and he had been less than pleased with your question.

You laughed at his offended expression, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “I know, and I love you for that. I just wanted to double check though.”

He smiled softly, “Yeah, yeah. Now get out of my car I’m going to be late!”

You smiled at the memory, sure that he wasn’t mad at you for that. So then why did he not wave back?

You had missed his calls earlier this morning on purpose wanting to surprise him by coming to his game, but you never received a text from him saying anything was wrong.

The game continued, and you cheered along with the crowd.

Gavi was playing especially aggressively today, tackling players left and right, and shoving into them the moment they got the ball.

You bit your lip anxiously, you knew if he kept playing like this it was only a matter of time before he got a red card.

Your suspicions were confirmed not even ten minutes later when Gavi had slide tackled another player, sending them flying to the ground.

Immediately the whistle blew, bodies surrounding the two players as an argument broke out. You shot out of your seat, leaning over the railing to see Gavi standing in the middle. The player he had tackled had finally stood up saying something to him. In an instant, Gavi was shoving into the much larger player, screaming at him with such fury you would have thought he had just killed his family.

It only took a minute for the ref to make a decision and then he was holding up a red card for Gavi. The player in question let out a loud yell, eyebrows furrowed and jaw set.

You watched as he shook his head in anger, walking off the pitch, eyes blazing.

You tried to make eye contact with him, but he purposely avoided looking at the stands as he disappeared into the tunnels.

The other player got a yellow card but otherwise, everything continued as normal.

You sat in your seat for another five minutes contemplating what to do when Anna decided for you, “Aren’t you going to down and see him?” She questioned.

You nodded your head slowly, trying to fight off the feeling that something was wrong, “Yeah, I just wanted to give him some time to cool down, but I’m going now.”

You stood up, an uneasy feeling in your heart as you walked towards the locker rooms.

The guard let you in without question, used to seeing you after games.

You took small steps toward the locker room, why were you so nervous?

You heard a loud bang inside and instinctively rushed in, scared Gavi had hurt himself.

You found him sitting on the floor against the bench, hands wrapped around his legs, head buried in his chest as he rocked back and forth.

Your heart broke at the sight. He looked so vulnerable.

“Pablo.” You spoke.

Gavi’s head shot up and he looked at you with so much disdain that your guard shot 100 feet up, but you stood rooted in place.

“You cost me the game.” He spoke, voice thick with emotion.

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s your fault. You did this. You made me like this.”

“What? Pablo I don’t under-”

The boy cut you off, standing up, the hurt in his eyes had you reeling, “Of fuck off Y/n, you know what you did. Stop acting so innocent.”

You were stumbling over your words not used to seeing his gaze so venomous, “I do-don’t know what you’re ta-talking about.”

He laughed dryly at your words, taking a step closer to you, “Oh really so when you fucked that guy last night you weren’t thinking “Oh maybe this might hurt Pablo”, you were just thinking, “Eh what he won’t know won’t hurt him”. Well guess what? I know.”

Your throat went dry, your eyes widening at his words. He took your actions as confirmation.

“See you do know what I’m talking about it. We’re done Y/n I can’t believe I let myself love you.”

You stood in silence.

“Do you even love me?” His voice cracked as he looked at you.

He shook his head moving to walk past you, but you jumped into action, desperate not to let him leave. Your brain was still processing everything he said but you knew if you let him walk away now that would be the end, and you couldn’t let him leave thinking you didn’t love him.

You grabbed his wrist and he immediately spun around, glaring at you, “Don’t fucking touch me.” He seethed.

You relented, refusing to let go, “Pablo, please. Just listen to me. Don’t walk away!’ You pleaded.

“I don’t have to, you already did when you decided to fuck that random guy.” He yelled.

“I didn’t. I didn’t fuck him. I swear, baby just listen to me.”

“I’m not your baby.” He answered voice cold.

You felt his words hit you like a ton of bricks, and you physically took a step back from him, dropping his hand.

He didn’t move.

“I never cheated on you. I love you, you know I would never do that, you’re too important to me.”

His anger only bubbled, “Apparently, I don’t know anything. How are you going to deny it when there’s evidence?”

“Evidence what evidence?” You asked exasperated.

“Why don’t you ask your friend Angela? At least she did me a favor by posting you pressed up against someone else.”

The realization finally hit you. He must have seen you with the guy last night, that’s why he was so upset, and you not answering his calls this morning must have just fueled his suspicions.

You suddenly felt so tired, everything was falling apart, and you didn’t have it in yourself to scream at Gavi anymore.

You sighed, walking past Gavi dropping to the floor, leaning against the locker room door.

“What are you doing?” He questioned.

“Gavi, I know you’re mad but I’m not letting you leave until you let me at least explain myself, and if you still want to hate me after then that fine. But first, just listen please.” Your voice came out gentle, all the anger dissipated.

He shook his head in anger, “You can’t fucking trap me in here. Move out of the way Y/n. Now.”

You shook your head in resistance, “No. I know how you are; I know you feel so angry right now you can’t think straight. But I promise you if you just give me a minute, I’ll explain everything. I don’t want a miscommunication to be the reason you hate me.”

He was silently fuming, but he made no move to leave.

You continued, “I’m taking it you saw the video?”

Gavi didn’t say anything but by the way his hands balled into fists you knew you were right.

You nodded, “Ok, well it was me.”

You heard Gavi let out a scoff.

“That guy was pressed into me, but what the video didn’t show was me pushing him off me not even five seconds later, drunkenly yelling at him that I had a boyfriend that I loved very much, and who was much prettier than he was. I know it probably looks bad in the video, but he was just so much bigger than me that it took me a minute to fight him off.”

“Also, when he first came up to me, I genuinely thought he was asking me directions for the bathroom, not asking me to go with him.” You clarified.

It was silent.

“Why were your arms around him?”

“I was shoving him away. Obviously, I can’t do that with just my mind – no matter how much I want to.” You tried to lighten the mood, but Gavi only sighed.

Your shoulders deflated; he didn’t believe you.

You moved to the side of the door, “You can leave.” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

Gavi spared you one last glance before he walked out the door, leaving you alone in the locker room.

Your eyes watched him leave and the second the door shut behind him you covered your mouth with your hands, shoulders shaking as you let out the sobs you had been holding in.

Is this what being heartbroken felt like? Sure, you had relationships that end in the past on less-than-stellar terms, but never had you felt like this. Like you couldn’t breathe, like every small breath was squeezing your body, leaving you with no oxygen and an unbearable feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You sniffled, trying to pull yourself back together. You had to leave before the game ended and the team came back.

You were in the middle of wiping your tears when the door swung open again.  

“Fuck this, I’m not leaving. I took five steps before I realized how stupid I’m being. I believe you. I trust you – but it’s just so hard because my mind is screaming at me to leave but all my heart is thinking about is how I’m letting go of the most real thing I’ve ever felt, and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I left you like that all alone.” Gavi spoke, voice firm as he came to sit next to you.

You looked over at him with wide eyes, “You came back?”

He nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing, as he scooched closer to you, “I always will.”

[ghostboneswrites2]

You Were Found

Part 2 to You Ran

Summary: Daryl finds you holding your ground against the Saviors.

18+ MDNI || Warnings: heavy profanity, TWD typical violence, minor mention of reader’s past abuse

        All things considered you were doing alright. In a survival sense, at least. You were fed most of the time, hadn’t been bit, and had a half ass decent amount of luck in finding water. One other fronts, though, things had been tough. You holed up in a beat down gas station off the highway. Another group — one that seemed to have numbers — frequently rode through and cause you problems. Their beef wasn’t with you, but it affected you nonetheless. 

        “Drop the bag, miss.” 

        “No.” 

        This man gave you the most shit. Any time he saw you he tried to rob you or sleep with you. It typically didn’t work out in his favor. 

        “Now, what are you doing with that?” He chuckled, nodding to your gun. “Looks a little heavy, darlin’. Why don’t ya hand it over? Let a strong man like me carry— Ahh!”

        A shit fired and he fell to the ground, clutching his leg. What he mistook for poor sim was simply your sights being set on his fibula. You smirked and shifted your weight onto one leg, propping your unarmed hand on your hip. 

        “Oops.” You said in mock innocence. “My finger slipped.” 

        “You fucking bitch! I’ll fucking kill you!” He cried out, writhing in pain on the cracked concrete. 

        “Looks like you’re gonna need a few weeks to recover first.” You shrugged, strolling to his side. You crouched down and looked him over, hissing. “Oh, man. Looks like that hurts.” You taunted. 

        Was it cruel? Yes. You justified it by recalling each time some patronizing, misogynistic, disrespectful bullshit escaped past his paper-thin lips. 

        “Hey.” You cooed as he sobbed. “Hey, hey, hey…” You hushed, lacing a hand on his shoulder. “Hold still.” 

        You went to examine his wound, but instead you slipped his gun from his holster and tucked it into your waistband. 

        You leaned in close and whispered, “Figured it might be too heavy now, you know, with that leg.” 

        You stood and walked away, tuning out the enraged cries of the man on the ground. 

        From the trees across the high way, it was quite an interesting exchange to witness. The eyes of a trained hunter, belonging to a man that had tracked you for miles, watched with a blend of scrutiny and intrigue. 

        As your silhouette faded into the shattered glass doors of your gas station hideaway, he stepped out onto the street, scanning the landscape. With no sign of imminent threat, he strode across the way, heavy boots stopping before the man who was sure to bleed out within the hour. Blue eyes traced the man’s features. He wasn’t the man who Daryl had crossed paths with while leading the horde away from Alexandria some weeks back. No, but he had a feeling he was from that same crew of morally depraved imbeciles. 

        “The fuck you lookin’ at, asshole?” The man spat from the ground. His voice trembled with agony. 

        “Just some other asshole that got his ass handed to him by a girl.” Daryl shrugged. The man scoffed. 

        “That bitch’s days are fuckin’ numbered.” He spewed threats as he desperately cling to the last threads of live, before they were cut short. 

        “Looks like you might be the one runnin’ outta time.” Daryl mumbled. 

        “Shut up and help me, man.” The man pleaded. 

        “Nah.” Daryl shook his head. He reached into his pocket and pulled his half empty pack of cigarettes out, bending down and propping one between the man’s lips. He flipped his zippo open and lit it before standing upright and tucking his cigarettes away again. The man puffed and sighed. 

        Daryl tossed a final glance at the dying individual before he strolled inside. Upon first notice, the place looked desolate; barren of life or even walking death. Daryl knew better, though. Somewhere in the poorly lit ruins of a convenience store, you were waiting, lurking, searching for your moment to pounce. In all truth, walking in there blind out him at quite the disadvantage. 

        He was banking on the possibility of your recognition of the man who once meddled in your life and ultimately put you in a situation that forced you to run in the first place. He hoped that’d be enough for you to spare him some time to place his cards on the table, and more than that, he hoped you’d accept his hand. He hoped his deck held the trump card he thought it did, and that you’d be willing to recognize what he really had to offer.  

        “Coming to avenge your buddy?” A familiar voice called from behind the counter. 

        “Nah. Came to retrieve somebody.” He replied casually. “Someone who’s been missin’ a long time.” 

        “Sounds like they might not wanna be found if they’ve been missing that long.” You sighed. The hell was he doing there after all this time?

        “‘M sure they don’t.” He shrugged. “‘M here for ‘em anyways. Had somethin’ I thought they might like to know.”

        “I’m not so sure there’s anything worth telling them after all that time.” You stood from behind the counter. He eyed you. 

        “Maybe they could just hear what I got to say.”

        “Maybe you should lay it all out then.” You crossed your arms. 

        “Alright.” He nodded, taking a step closer. “Well, for starters, I been lookin’ for ya almost every day. Me and Aaron.” 

        “And you found me. So what?”

        “That asshole ain’t ‘round anymore.” 

        “And that’s supposed to make me want to come back?” You scoffed. “I’m takin’ real good care of myself, thanks.” 

         “Yeah, ‘til them assholes find their dead friend outside and his killer hangin’ out in here.” He countered. 

        “Then I find somewhere else.” You rolled your eyes. 

        “Don’t have to, though. Got a whole community waitin’ for ya.”

        “The same one that watched me get beat for a year and turned the other cheek?” You raised an eyebrow. “I mean really, they should send better representatives ‘cause I’m not buyin’ what you’re sellin’.”

        “Ain’t the same community no more.” He pressed on. “Things ‘ve changed there.”

        “Doubt it.”

        “Come see for yourself.” 

        “No thanks.” 

        “Look, just let me take ya back. See for yourself. If ya don’t like it you can go. I did my part.”

        “Your part?” You laughed incredulously. “What — Are you wrestling with some insatiable guilt or something? Here, let me put you at ease. You didn’t do anything but set me free. There. Your burden is lifted; you’re free to go.” 

        “Ain’t about guilt. It’s about—“

        “What is it about?” A man asked, suddenly strolling inside. “Does it have anything to do with my dead friend out there?”

        Daryl and you looked between each other then back at the man. 

        “See, that’s the third one of my friends to go missing in six months. But, I only see two lives here. Does there…” The man searched around. “… Happen to be a third life bidding around here so where? You know, to pay your debt?”

        “I don’t owe you shit.” You glared. Daryl shook his head at you. You ignored him and continued.  “Those assholes tried to rob me.” 

        “I see.” He nodded. “I get it, you know. Defending your territory and whatnot, but.. Well, ya see the issue with that is this isn’t your territory. It’s ours. Has been for a long time.”

        “I didn’t see a sign.” You challenged. 

        “Oh.” He chuckled. “I’ll be sure to make one out of your—“

        His body fell to the ground with a thud, an arrow protruding from his skull. 

        “C’mon, (Y/N), we gotta get outta here now.” Daryl urged. You stayed out, feet planted in the soil of your stubbornness. “Quit bein’ so damn bill-headed and let’s go!” He demanded  he had witnessed what those men were capable of — the ones from that group. That would make four men they had lost to you — and now Daryl — and he had no intentions of sticking around to see their reaction.

        Tires screeched in the distance, headlights rolling into view. Without hesitation, you bolted toward the back exit. “Ah, shit.” You groaned. “Follow me.”

        With Daryl in toe, the two of you melted into the trees behind the small building, ducked down in the underbrush to watch as five more men tore apart the gas station, shouting between each other..

        “My bike’s not far. We should go.” He whispered.

        “You rode a bike here?” 

        “A motorcycle, idiot! Come on!” He hissed. You followed him between trees, running for what felt like two miles. The voices of people never stayed far behind. They were on your tail, just not close enough to catch you. For the first time since you used to cower from the fist of a man, you felt afraid. Adrenaline coursed through you as you slapped beaches and flies from your face. Sweat burned your eyes, blurring your vision as you tried to keep up with the prestigious woodsman ahead. 

        A break in the trees came into view, Daryl stopping to lift his bike from where he buried it in a tarp and leaves. He rolled it I got he street with haste and cranked the engine. You threw your leg over the back with no question, and he took off. You clung to his waist to steady yourself as wind smacked hair across your cheeks. Gunshots rang out behind you. Over your shoulder, you could see some of them men spilling out into the street, weapons aimed. 

        You pulled your pistol from your waist and held your arm out behind you, firing rounds at them as they faded from view. You could see one of them drop just as they disappeared behind the horizon. 

Taglist || Masterlist

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s

[milarqui]

Scarlet Lady: Origins (Part 1)

Directory

That blasted girl! she thought. She had been the queen of this class of pathetic, poor peasants for years, and Dupain-Cheng, who was the worst of the lot, had somehow got a spine to replace the baguette she once had!

Baguette, ha! I kill myself.

Maybe that new girl, Cesar or whatever, had something to do with it, but she needed to make sure Dupain-Cheng got the message that no one got away with messing with Chloé Bourgeois, the Princess of Paris!

“I’ve got to get back at that upstart Marinette and Alya for talking back to me,” she muttered, and she looked towards the girl, who was distracted doing whatever homework she had missed, the clumsy idiot. And she also saw her bag - seriously, what a horrible thing, not even a Dior! - unattended to a side.

Struck by a brilliant idea, she carefully walked towards the bag and put her hand inside. Maybe she could find something she could use to put her down, back into her place. Her fingertips touched something wooden and polished, and when she grabbed it and pulled out, she saw that it was an eight-sided box that looked really old and expensive.

Hahahaha! This is probably an old family heirloom! she thought, crowing to herself with an evil smile. She’ll be totally freaked when she can’t find it! Perfect!

As she left back for her seat, Marinette remained completely oblivious to what just happened.

And would remain so for months.

----

Perhaps, if she had known what that act of thievery would bring her, Chloé Bourgeois might not have carried it out.

Perhaps.

But Chloé Bourgeois was never one to think on the long-term consequences of her actions.

----

Back home from that peasants’ building known as Collège Françoise Dupont, Chloé sat on her bed and picked the box she had purloined - not robbed, robbing is something those who are pathetic do! - and admired its colors. 

“A pity that this was wasted in that family of boulangers,” she said. “Let’s see what kind of treasure I won. Hee hee!”

And she opened the box.

----

Within the box, the kwami known as Tikki had been waiting for this moment for quite some time. Master Fu had shown her how her future holder, Marinette, looked and acted like, and she knew it would be a wonderful partnership. With Nooroo and the Butterfly Miraculous in the hands of someone who would use it for evil, someone needed to act - and who better than the girl that showed strength of character and compassion in every act?

The box opened. This was her moment!

“Hello, Marinette!” she said, smiling. “Please, don’t be afraid, everything’s--!”

The light that usually covered this kind of thing vanished... and she saw that the person in front of her was clearly not Marinette. Blonde, long hair in a ponytail, rather than black and held in pigtails. Blue, cruel eyes instead of innocent blue. Features of Caucasian ascendancy instead of Chinese.

Conclusion: Master Fu had made a mistake.

“WHO ARE YOU?!” Tikki screamed, trying to make a sense of what had happened.

“THAT’S MY LINE!!!” the girl screamed even louder.

----

Elsewhere in Paris, a boy by the name of Adrien Agreste had discovered a similar box, containing a ring and the kwami known as Plagg. After the terrible day he had had, with his attempt to finally go to school thwarted by Nathalie and his bodyguard, he had listened to the cat-like creature and jumped into the chance to become something he had always wanted to be.

A Superhero.

“THIS IS GONNA BE AWESOME!!!”

----

He would regret those words soon enough.

----

Chloé couldn’t make heads or tails of what this little bug was telling her.

Going out there to fight some monster that had suddenly shown up?

"You’re the only one who can stop the Akuma!” the bug said.

As in, doing something sweaty?

“You use Lucky Charm to save the day?”

Helping other people? Her mere presence was enough to do that! She didn’t need to do like Majestia and waste her precious time in making people think they had any value beyond doing what she wanted.

“You have a partner?!”

And not even a way to claim the credit! No, she had to share it with some no-name peasant, and she couldn’t tell anyone she was the one that had saved their lives! No, she had to hide herself for whatever dumb, irrelevant reason the bug had mentioned, something about someone wanting to rob the earrings she had purloined from Dupain-Cheng.

But the bug was persistent. It kept pestering her until she agreed to it.

Well, maybe she could actually do something and bask in the love of the masses.

----

At the Dupain-Cheng’s house, Marinette thought she had earned a prize for finally telling Chloé off for being a jerk, so she had made herself some popcorn and gone to watch TV, where the usual programming had been replaced by a live newscast.

Un Super-Vilain Á Paris?

A giant creature, who for some reason the newscast had identified as Stoneheart, had shown up in the middle of the city, and was causing quite a lot of chaos.

“Stoneheart is moving toward the Montparnasse Tower!” Nadja Chamack reported, clearly shaken by the current events, as the titan punched a car and sent it flying several meters away.

“Sucks,” Marinette said, munching on her popcorn. Not like there was much she could do. If she were part of something like United Heroez, she would probably jump into action, but she was a civilian, so--

“The monster... seems to be unstoppable!”

And, as Stoneheart kept ambling towards its target, at the down left corner of the screen, Marinette saw something.

Or, rather, someone.

“ALYA!!! What are you doing?!”

----

How does Lois Lane always look so perfect when she does this?! Alya Césaire thought, panting as she pedaled behind Stoneheart. This could be the start of her journalist career!

----

“I’m starting to get the hang of this,” Adrien - no, Chat Noir, that was his superhero name - said, following the trail Stoneheart was leaving behind.

“aaaaaaaaAAAAAHHHHH!”

Pain.

Before he could react, someone had crashed on him, and now the two of them were tangled in some sort of thin rope and hanging upside down. And, as he recovered his sight, he was met with someone wearing a domino mask, similar to his, but red with black polka dots.

This had to be the partner Plagg had mentioned! Well, maybe he could break the ice and begin with a good joke.

“Well, nice of you to drop in!”

“Omigod, no.”

Seriously? Not even a smile?

Tough crowd.

The girl in red pulled on something, and the rope around them suddenly became untangled, causing them both to fall to the ground.

“Say, what’s your name, partner?”

“Why should I tell you?” she replied, with a tone that reminded him too much of his father talking down to someone else - usually him.

“I’m Chat Noir! Nice to meet you!” A loud noise reminded him that Stoneheart was still loose, and he swung back in action. “Come on! Stoneheart seems to be going for the Parc des Princes!”

“Stone-who?” he thinks he hears her say, but it might have just been his imagination. He didn’t pay it any mind.

It was time to be a hero!

----

Sabine Dupain-Cheng looked in shock as her darling daughter nearly crashed down the stairs and towards the door, a look of dread in her face.

“Marinette, where are you going? Lunch is almost over.”

“Out because my new best friend is INSANE!!!”

The bell clinked as Marinette opened the door, picked her bike and started to pedal westward.

“What’s going on here?” she wondered. Well, she would certainly learn about it later.

----

Chat Noir charged towards Stoneheart, his new staff - he could make it grow like Goku did, which was amazing - in hand, and attacked the creature, distracting it from the guy it was trying to attack.

BANG! the staff sounded as it hit Stoneheart’s head.

And then Stoneheart grew in size.

“Oh shit, he’s bigger!” he said, dodging an attack. “Where are you, partner?”

Looking around, he saw his partner standing at the top of the stadium.

“Ah, there!” Good, she could jump in and help him stop Stone- wait, was that a compact mirror?

She was preening in front of a mirror while he was here, risking his life?

“HEY!!!” he shouted, dodging another attack.

----

It looked like that mangy cat had everything well in hand, so she didn’t need to do anything at all! Whew! She could just stand here and let him do all the work, that was what peasants were for, after all.

“What are you waiting for, Super Red Bug?” a voice said from below, and Chloé Bourgeois turned to see the new girl down below, a cellphone in her hands.

“Ugh, you again.”

“The world is watching you!” Césaire said, gleaming and smiling.

“The world is watching...?”

Oh my god, this was perfect! She could jump in, easily put a stop to the monster and bang! Instantly famous! The adoration of all Paris was at hand!

She closed her new compact mirror and grinned.

----

Chat Noir was starting to feel that maaaaaaybe he was a bit over his head. Nothing he could do to Stoneheart could stop him, and it was a hard task to just keep dodging everything. And, of course, his partner refused to do anything.

Stoneheart had grabbed one of the goals with its gigantic left hand, and was clumsily attempting to swing it at him, but fortunately his years of fencing had given him the reflexes to avoid such a large object, and the suit was actually making him faster and stronger!

But then Stoneheart tossed the goal - and it was clear the target was not him, but a red-haired, dark-skinned girl that seemed to have followed them into the stadium.

Oh, no!! he thought, and he turned about to attempt to stop the large object from hitting the girl.

“ALYA!”

Before he could act, someone else, a girl with black bluish hair in a pair of cute pigtails, tackled the red-haired girl out of the way.

“You came!” the red-haired girl - Alya - said.

“Yeah, but why did you?!” the new girl replied.

Whew, crisis solved. Now, he had to find out how to stop Stoneheart, quickly, before it could cause further disruption.

“Cat boy!” the pigtailed girl said, and he felt her hand on his shoulder.

“It’s Chat Noir, actually!” he replied, turning to look at her - and wow, she was quite cute and blushing.

“He doesn’t open his fist!”

“Good note, thanks! Maybe you should be a hero!”

Anyone could be better than his "partner". Not that that was a high bar to surpass.

“Priorities!” the girl said.

----

Chloé could only see red. That blasted cat had said that Dupain-Cheng should be a hero? Ha! As if!

She jumped and kicked Stone-whatever in the head, sending it tumbling away as she turned to the cat and her classmate.

“WHAT DID YOU SAY?!” she shouted.

“Wow, wow, calm down! Maybe we need to use our powers to stop him? Cataclysm! My power destroys anything,” the cat said, his right hand covered in some sort of icky black thing.

“How barbaric. And useless. Like you.”

“Did I look cool?”

The cat thought he was cool? She wanted to laugh.

“Absolutely not.”

The cat grabbed the large net thing that had fallen nearby with his right hand, and suddenly the white on the stick became black, and in seconds the entire thing had disintegrated into dust.

She was sickened to have to admit it, but that trick left her hair standing.

“Jesus...”

“So, what about yours?” the cat challenged her.

You’re going to swallow those words, you mangy cat!

“Lucky Charm!” she declaimed. After a flash of pink, she felt something heavy in her hands, that seemed to be made of rubber and looked a lot like this unfashionable costume she was wearing. “Oh, ha ha, Tikki.”

“So, how useful is your power?” he taunted her, and she angrily threw the thing at him.

“Why not ask your other partner?!”

“You just don’t want to work,” he muttered. Well, of course she didn’t! Work was something someone as important as her shouldn’t be bothered with!

You’ll come crawling back to me once you see how useless Clumsinette is, she thought, grinning at the idea of her rival doing anything useful at all.

“Cat boy, run interference!”

“it’s Chat Noir!”

“Alya, the tap!”

“You got it!”

What.

----

Chat Noir followed the black-haired girl’s instructions. The moment he had given her the polka-dotted red wetsuit, she had immediately come up with a plan. It was a bit risky, particularly since he would have to let himself get captured, but something told him he could trust her.

His trust was rewarded. The girl had managed to trick Stoneheart into grabbing her and the wetsuit, dropping a purple rock from its closed right fist, and then Alya had opened the hose tap, filling the wetsuit to grow and forcing Stoneheart’s fist open. The girl had quickly jumped out, ran for the rock and stomped on it, letting out a black butterfly and a crumpled piece of paper.

And Stoneheart transformed back into a large boy that looked to be his age.

The girl picked up the note and ran for the large boy, shouting what he presumed was his name, as his ring began to beep.

“What’s the noise mean?”

“Dunno, I didn’t read the manual,” he said. Maybe he should have waited for Plagg to explain everything before transforming?

----

“Kim wrote it. He’s always making fun of me,” Ivan confessed to his classmate.

“Pa, don't worry about him. He cried when we saw The Little Mermaid when we were 10.”

He chuckled.

----

Chloé grabbed the rubber thing - now empty of water - and attempted to rip it, but it only stretched without giving in.

No one’s paying attention to me!

How could this be? She was Chloé Bourgeois! The Princess of Paris! Everyone’s eyes should be on her! All the boys should be in love with her! Everyone should worship her! But here they were, paying attention to a mangy cat and Bruel who got his dumb arse turned into a monster, instead of her!

Oh, wait. Tikki had said something about this, right? That she could fix stuff broken by the monsters with this Lucky Charm thing?

“Hey, reporter girl! Catch this! MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!”

The Lucky Charm transformed into a cloud of ladybugs that flew around everything Bruel had destroyed as Stone-whatever. In moments everything was back to its normal state - still below the quality she demanded of everything, of course.

“Whoa!!” Césaire said, and she rushed towards her, cellphone in hand. “Incredible! You can fix everything?! Hey, what do we call you, Wonderbug?!”

Now, that was closer to what she expected. Still not enough simpering, but closer.

“Well, obviously not that. Let’s see...”

----

Chat Noir was tired. Fighting Stoneheart had taken out a lot off him. And he realized that maybe the beeping was some kind of count down.

And then he heard his ‘partner’ proclaim to have saved the day ‘in spite of her clumsy partner’s inability to do anything right’.

“You... you didn’t do anything,” he muttered, astonished of her credit stealing. But then the beeping became more insistent and he left: he had to return home before someone noticed he wasn’t in his room.

Somehow, the beginning of being a hero had become nothing like he had thought it would be.

----

Fu sipped on his favorite tea, relaxing after a long day. Wayzz had reported that the negative energy of the Butterfly had vanished, which meant that young Marinette and young Adrien had managed to stop Stoneheart and captured the corrupted butterfly transforming him. Good. Ah, if only he were a few decades younger! He would have been able to go out there and guide the two young heroes in the matters of the Miraculous.

Wayzz clicked on the remote to turn on the TV and see if the news were mentioning anything about the attack.

“... our new hero, Scarlet Lady...”

He turned to look at the screen, only to notice something strange, because the girl wearing the Ladybug Miraculous didn’t resemble his Chosen wielder at all-

“... thanks to amateur footage by local student, Alya Césaire...”

-and then the screen showed Marinette and a red-haired girl he supposed was this Alya Césaire, smiling at the camera.

“Wait...” Wayzz said. The problem was clear: if Marinette was there in her civilian clothes, who was wearing the Ladybug Miraculous?

He barely noticed as his teacup crashed into the floor.

----

“So... her name is Scarlet Lady...”

Plagg was a bit disturbed by his bearer’s angry face. What in the holy name of Camembert had happened to leave him like he had gone a few rounds with trying to swallow some mushrooms?

“I’ll call her Scar for the scars she leaves on my life.”

Uh-oh.

----

Tikki enjoyed the cookies Chloé had offered her.

But she still wondered why she was here, instead of with Marinette.

And she remembered there was something she hadn’t explained.

“Did you catch the akuma?”

Chloé gave her what she supposed was what humans called the ‘deer-in-the-headlights’ look.

“Huh?”

Uh-oh.

----

Origins (Part 2)

@zoe-oneesama Hope you liked this.

[ladykailitha]

Oh For a Muse of Fire! Part 1

Yeah...I know I said I would be taking a step back but then my muse went “Brrrrr!” and wouldn’t let me up until I had over 6k words and several more scenes I wanted to do, including the end.

Art student!Steve and Live Model! Eddie AU. Enemies to lovers. Eddie is a straight up ass in the first few chapters of this.

*

Steve was in the library looking at his schedule with Robin.

“It’s my last semester, Robs,” he said squinting at the computer screen. “And then I can graduate.”

Robin sighed. “I still have a year to go, you are so lucky.”

Steve was looking at the remaining credits he needed to graduate with art teaching degree and was shocked to find that he only needed one class.

“Shit.”

She leaned over his shoulder to look at the computer, too.

“Shit,” she echoed.

“Live figure drawing,” Steve muttered with an air finality. “The class I failed three times.”

“Mhmm,” Robin agreed. “Once a year.”

He banged his head on the desk. “I hate that class. And it’s always awful. There was the creepy old man that kept hitting on me the whole time.” He had been forced to drop the class. He had been reimbursed for it, but because it happened just after the midterm, insta-fail. “Then there was poor heavy-set girl. The constant sniggering and jeering made me ill and when the professor refused to anything about it...” he shook his head.

“Yeah, that was the worst,” Robin whispered. “But at least that incident got that professor fired.”

Steve nodded. That had been the only good thing that had come out of that class. But getting him fired made for another insta-fail. He tried to protest that one, but the Dean refused to budge.

“The last time was all you, though,” she said, pushing at his shoulder.

Steve cleared his throat and hung his head. Because, yeah that one was on him.

The new professor brought in an extremely fit basketball player. Steve had spent very little time drawing and a lot of time trying not to stare. So when he turned in his final with a blurry face and nothing drawn in the middle, he had failed the class again.

Robin pointed at the screen. “It’s a different teacher again this year.”

Steve lifted his head to look at what she was pointing at. J. Byers.

“Shit,” he murmured. “You don’t think that’s like Joyce Byers, do you?”

Steve had done a lot of babysitting and holding down two jobs to pay for school out his own pocket because his dad wasn’t willing to pay for what amounted to an art degree. He would work at Family Video while the kids were in school and then work at the plant at nights on weekends.

Will Byers was one of those he babysat. The kid had an older brother. But he had been working full time to keep the lights on while their mom got a master’s degree.

Robin’s mouth worked but no sound came out.

“I think this got even more awkward,” Steve murmured.

Robin just patted his shoulder in sympathy.

*

Steve was in hell. That was the only explanation for all of this. It had been Joyce Byers and he had to get the Dean to sign off him being in her class because she might be accused of favoritism. In fact if it hadn’t been the only class Steve needed to graduate he was pretty sure the Dean wouldn’t have allowed it.

Which was fine. Awkward, but fine. Nope. The part that made it hell was who was currently sitting on a stool in the middle of the classroom, (completely dressed, thank god!) was Eddie Munson.

The so-called Freak of Hawkins High. Or as Steve called him in his head “Steve Harrington’s biggest gay crush.” So yeah. All that work to get special permission to take the class and he was going to fail anyway.

Joyce stepped up to stand next to Eddie. “Hello, I’m Mrs Byers. Or Joyce, whichever make you more comfortable. Because that’s the point of this class. You being comfortable. I know this not ideal for a lot people. Especially young people like yourselves. So we’re going to start off slow. Working on different parts of the body and then for your final it will the complete nude form.”

Steve let out a shuddering breath. He wasn’t the only one, thank god, but if Eddie had stripped then and there, Steve would have fainted.

“This will be your live model this semester,” she continued, indicating to Eddie on the stool. “Why don’t you introduce yourself?”

Eddie grinned, his dimples making themselves known. “Hi! I’m Eddie. I was looking for a way to make easy money between gigs with my band. I have tattoos, but Joyce here has assured me that that won’t be problem for you sweethearts as this is an advanced art class.”

Steve gulped. It wasn’t going to be a problem art-wise. But libido-wise? He was in so much trouble.

After class he stopped to talk to Joyce.

“Hey, Mrs Byers,” he greeted with barely the hint of a stammer. “How’s Will?”

Joyce hugged him. “It’s so good to see you, honey. Will is doing great. He’s navigating school better now that we’re back in Illinois.”

Steve nodded. They had briefly gone out to California so that she could get some special accreditation or something like that.

“Tell him I miss him,” he said.

Joyce smiled. “Of course, sweetie.” She gave his hand a squeeze and said she had to get back to work.

Steve nodded again and walked out the door.

“Well, well, well,” Eddie said. “If it isn’t the former king of Hawkins High. I thought I saw you lurking in the back.”

Steve closed his eyes and turned slowly. There he was, leaning against the wall, one leg propped against, while the other stretched out in front of him. His arms were crossed, and his hair dangled in front of his bowed head. Steve itched to draw him oh so badly.

“Munson,” he said trying to keep the tremor from his voice.

Eddie lifted his head. “So you do remember me, should I feel honored?”

Steve let out a heavy sigh. “You do what you want, you always have.”

“I heard you got special permission for this class,” Eddie sneered. “You convince the Dean to take the class for a lookie-Lou? Sorry to disappoint, Harrington. Not some hot chick you can leer at for fifteen weeks.”

Steve’s head rocked back in shock. “Fuck you, man. For starters I got special permission because being the former babysitter for teacher is a bad look for both of us. For another, this is my last class I need for my art degree.”

Eddie raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Daddy let you take art? Must really not need the dough.”

Steve balled his hands to prevent the rage from tumbling out. “No. I worked hard to get where I am. And for the record...they never have hot women. Not if they don’t want to get sued for harassment. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go to work because not all of us can take our clothes off and be paid.”

He stormed off, tears streaming down his face.

*

Eddie watched him go with a slow lick of his lips. That went differently then he expected. He didn’t think Harrington would cop to admitting that he was there to leer, but his lie about art school? That was a new low.

And babysitting? No parent in their right mind would leave Steve “the Hair” Harrington in charge of their kids. Lie number two.

And then trying to get out of talking to him by saying he had work? Harrington lived in Loch Nora. The richest part of town. He didn’t have to work a day in his life. Lie number three.

And what was that about not being able to take off his clothes and get paid? It didn’t sound right to his ears. It was like he wasn’t dogging the modeling gig but that he couldn’t.

Which anyone who had eyes knew that was bullshit.

Joyce came out and saw him still standing there. “Thank you again for doing this, Eddie.”

“You’re welcome, Joyce,” he said with a charming smile. “I don’t mind. I’m sorry your other model bailed on you last minute though.”

Joyce sighed. “She got a bar tending job that starts on tonight and I’d really prefer not to have my models fall asleep in the middle of posing.”

“Chrissy’s good girl,” Eddie said. “I’m actually glad she got the job at the bar. Some of the guys in the class looked pretty slimy.”

Joyce sighed. “It happens every time. They take just enough art classes in order to get in and then are disappointed when it’s not some pretty girl.”

Eddie nodded, thinking of Steve Harrington.

“And this school has had a problem with a couple of the last models they had,” Joyce murmured. “If another incident occurs, the class will be dropped all together and I’ll be out of job.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for you,” he said, with a gentle squeeze of her shoulder.

Joyce looked up at him with a smile. “You’re so sweet, Eddie. I’m glad Will found someone like you to look up to.”

Eddie blushed, shoving his hair in his mouth. “I like the kid. He’ll do just fine.”

Joyce nodded. “See you tomorrow.” She waved goodbye and walked away.

*

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Epilogue

Just tagging a few of my regulars, but if you want to be tagged let me know in the comments. Thanks!

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369

[findafight]

I have an extremely stupid thought: Addams!Steve. His parents are horrified at his normalness. Everybody in the family tries to come up with ways to make him enjoy pain, even a little. They are all devastated that his interests are basketball and popularity. Usually, he isn't even cruel on purpose! His parents do their best to support him in his interests (this is why their house is so horribly decorated) and leave every time they feel the need to Be Weird or visit the family. When the Upside Down happens, they are overjoyed. Finally, a truly Addams pastime! But he doesn't seem to be having a lot of fun? Is he just trying to fit in their family? They don't want him to change for them, they just want him happy! His parents end up leaving him alone longer so he doesn't feel pressured to share the delightful portal to Hell (or keep getting involved if it stops being fun) and check in on him from time to time. He looks so delightfully beat up every time! What fun! Let's give him space. If he wants to battle hellmonsters, they definetely aren't gonna stop him! Even if it's a bit strange that he hasn't chosen one as a pet yet. Oh, no, is he secretely having a bad time? Does he not enjoy the hell portal? Look Steve we support your normal lifestyle! Do you want a job? A normal, horri- we mean, it's-totally-cool-if-you-want-one job? We won't think less of you if you do!

Steve for his part is very grateful that his family are so supportive of him, even if he's still trying to find a way to ask them for help with the Upside Down stuff without 1) secretely disappointing them and 2) his family making the situation worse on purpose. He knows they wouldn't mean to! But if he asks his mother to shut down a portal to a nightmare dimension full of flesh-eating monsters without even letting her keep one as a pet he might just make her cry, and that's unconscionable.

He's also under the impression that he knows the difference between people-normal and Addams-normal, but he still gets tripped up from time to time. Dustin keeping Dart as a pet? Duh, super normal, didn't even think about it until everyone started berating Dustin. What do you mean Jonathan and I aren't friends? We loved the same girl (who chose him), clearly we are Friends For Life.

(He'll never admit that Eddie is the first thing in his life that felt Right to every part of him. Sweet as pie the way he likes it even if his family is baffled by the preference, with a Deeply Weird appearence and demeanor that remind him of the best parts of home)

Yes yes Oh my god your mind.....

In S1 when Steve says his parents are away because dad has business and his mom went with him because she doesn't trust him it's not that his dad's adulterous it's because his mom didn't trust his dad not to, like, go grave robbing without her, (such a romantic date in the moonlight and it would be a shame to do it all alone, she knows he can't resist it though...)and they knew Steve wasn't particularly About That and also don't want him around for date night, and they don't want to do Weird Shit (their normal) in Hawkins because they don't want to have a reputation that would harm their darling normie son, AND he needed to stay in school at least for sports.

They return and he's like so I fought a demon creature from another dimension and got my shit rock by Jonathan who is now my best friend... (Because I doubt an Addams cares about NDAs within the family) and his parents are delighted! A portal to a hell dimension! Steven! You'll have to invite us along next time, and bring that nice young woman who is even MORE normal than you-oh she pointed a gun at you? Magnificent she'll fit right in! But they notice he's even more wound up than before and his mother, sister to Gomez Addams (hence the Harrington name), goes to her brother and bemoans the development.

"a hell dimension! In our own backyard, Gomez! We should all be rejoicing on our luck! But poor Steven only seems stressed. Apparently a girl died in our pool and instead of inviting her to haunt us he just feels guilty. I don't know what to do... However, the nail studded bat--complete with blood splatter, it's marvelous, you really must see it--is a welcome addition to the decor in the main room that we may be able to relax the highly attuned 'normal' look and expand from the basement."

And the next year, Dustin gets Steve to look for Dart and he's like "wait it's a baby demogorgon? Oh man my cousins would be sooo jealous. It ate your cat? Ah. I see. Eating a family member is certainly frowned upon." And Dustin is like. Why aren't you mad that it's a demogorgon u weirdo. What the hell. And Steve realizes that maybe weird carnivorous pets is an Addams Thing. In his defense Dustin got one. He'll have to tell his mom that it tends to eat other pets and isn't advisable.

Afterwards everyone is so proud! Steve helped defend some children who seem very keen on arson, which an Addams can relate to, and he always wears a broken nose so well. It is unfortunate that that Nancy girl broke his heart, but all's fair in love and war, and an Addams can bounce back! And what a tale, to have a girlfriend run away with you best friend! Worthy of a revenge plot, hmm Steve? Oh? No? You just what to cuddle and watch sad movies? Well. Alright then.

Perhaps a summer job, at that new mall will help. That is what normal people do, right? And Steve is so keen on normality that his parents can't refuse. They go on vacation, the last week of June, and tell him to just consider poisoning some of the icecream. Just a little! A bit of botulism or ecoli is good for a community! Keeps everyone on their toes.

They cannot believe they missed it AGAIN! Horrible luck, missing all the fun in their hometown. But, Steve seems to be bouncing back, (and his mother and father were both relieved and disappointed that the Russians who dared torture their sweet little pastel son and his friend were blown up before they could get a taste of Addams retribution) he's got a dear friend he works with and is overly attached too (excellent! His parents are so happy he's got someone he's mildly Weird with) and he happily drives the little arsonists around. (Steve's parents don't really meet the kids but know about them, are pleased as punch they all seem like little Addams-Harringtons Steve's taken under his wing. After all, arson, pet monster adopting, car thieving, and spycraft are all delightful pastimes for today's Youth)

But spring break of '86 rolls around and they return to their son in hospital besides another boy, who was apparently accused of serial murder, and discover that the hell dimension is gone for good (and, really, how can the senior Harrington-Addams' have such terrible luck! Missing all the fun once again, and to be told it's all over forever, well. At least their Steve was involved.) They kiss his cheeks and ask if they can get him anything, if his little arsonists are alright. They chat, telling him how little cousin Wednesday is doing and that his uncle Gomez was so thrilled to hear about the flesh monster last year and sends his love.

Eddie is there watching and once they leave he's like Steve....what is going on with your parents. Steve just shrugs.

Slowly, he falls for Eddie, sweet as pie and funny, with just the right amount of...well, freakishness, to settle that place in Steve's heart that's all Addams. Once they get to the stage where Steve introduces him to his parents as his boyfriend, he isn't even nervous about Eddie fitting in. He knows he will even if they live Steve's silly little picket fence and six nugget dream.

Steve's father is delighted by the development. "A murderer in the family!" He yells, which Eddie must interpret as some form of outrage or disgust instead of the delight it is.

He waves his hands in front of him "I didn't actually do it! All charges dropped!"

Steve's father Pat's his back in a consolatory way, "yes, yes. What a shame that is. We can't win them all. But! The reputation persists! And that is what matters. Oh, Priscilla! Gomez and Morticia will be besides themselves with envy!"

Eddie, who wore his most provocative and "fuck society and the man" outfit, on Steve's request which he assumed was to piss of his parents but...really doesn't seem to be the case now... Is. Baffled.

Steve's mother adds "indeed! You'll fit in so well with the rest of the family, dear, no need to worry that you're only an accused murderer. At least without prison time you are free to go where you wish and reap the benefits of a dastardly reputation!"

"I can't believe you didn't introduce us to your boy earlier, Steven. Look at him! Addams-Harrington material already. He even fought in the hell dimension with you!"

"you know about that?"

"of course, what's an NDA to family? We've been trying to join in the fun since the beginning." Says Steve's mother. "We've had such dreadful timing, though. And I'm still terribly annoyed that I wasn't able to give those Russians a torture session of their own!"

Eddie is...well. He doesn't actually know what's going on other than Steve's parents seem to like him? So. A win? He's calling it a win.

[littlemissaddict]

Just a little StevexFem!Reader something, not proofread and unedited.

I Told You So

“You've got to be kidding me!” Robin's voice echoes throughout the empty store as soon as the door closes behind the last customer.

“What have you done now?” Steve sighs from behind the counter as he tries to peer around the shelves to find where Robin's voice came from.

“Me? Nothing” she answers, finally revealing her location and moving, with purpose, to join Steve at the counter. “You on the other hand” she trails off as Steve scoffs.

“Me? What have I done other than doing what we are paid to do?” He defends, not liking that he's been blamed for something when he doesn't even know what that something is.

“Oh my god, I knew you were an idiot but I didn’t think you were blind as well” Robin groans dramatically and buries her head in her hands. Steve is even more confused now but he's starting to realise that this has to have nothing to do with work. “I swear you flirt with everyone girl that walks through that door but that girl,” Robin throws her arm in the direction of the door where said girl has not long since left, “That one girl who is so clearly into you, you have never even thrown a line her way” she explains but by the confused look still on Steve's face she can tell he has no idea who she is talking about until she says her name.

A look of recognition washes over Steve's face and finally she thinks he's realised but then a frown settles on his face. “I think you've gotten it mixed up Robs, she's not into me she's just friendly is all” he replies with a shake of his head. Sure Steve's desperate to find ‘the girl’ the one that he can love and who will love him back, the one who he can share a future with, a family with but the girl Robin is talking about is not her. Yes she's friendly, always greeting him with a smile, asking him how his day was or how his weekend had been but they were not signs that she was into him.

Robin feels like banging her head against a wall at how stupid Steve is being. “Really!?” She fixed him with a stare and he nodded in reply. “Okay so let's say she is just being friendly, why does she come in almost every shift that you're here?”

“She likes movies, me being here has nothing to do with it” he answers with a shrug.

Robin groans, “So when she comes in, she says hi to both of us, just being friendly but say she's browsing the films and I go over to ask if she wants any help you can guarantee her answer will be she's just looking” she sets up the scene for him, it's something she'd noticed after just a couple of visits to the store not that she's bothered by it but she just wishes Steve would do something to put the poor girl out of her misery. “However, if you go over and ask if she wants any help then the answer is always yes and she'll spend ages listening to your awful taste in movies and she'll always leave with one of the films you recommend” Robin adds, hoping that Steve will finally get it.

“I don't have awful taste in movies” he protests, thankful that the store is empty as he doesn’t want anyone else to have to listen to Robin's fantasy world. “And clearly it's just a case of right time right place” he responds in answer to her previous accusation.

Robin answers his stupidity with a groan of frustration, throwing her hands up in defeat. “Fine don't believe me but next time she's in and you're being your normal charming self, flirt a little and you'll see” she says, pushing herself from the counter and walking back towards the pile of movies she was sorting through before all this.

For the next week Steve had been scrutinising his every encounter with her because as much as he hated to admit he was wrong, Robin's words had stuck with him and while he wasn't getting his hopes up that a pretty girl was finally into him, he had started realise that Robin had been right and that she seemed to hang around and wait for him instead of Robin. So he'd had it planned, he was going to do as Robin said, he was going to flirt a little and see her reaction just to make sure.

As if on cue the door chime sounded and he looked up from the pile of videos he was scanning back into stock only to be greeted with her smile. Steve couldn't help but smile back, “If it isn't my favourite customer, what can we find for you today?” He asks, abandoning the tapes and making his way around the counter towards her. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Robin's head peek over the top of one of the racks from where she was returning already scanned tapes back to the shelves.

“Oh uh” she stumbled over her words and Steve wondered if it had been his ‘favourite customer’ quip or if she was just surprised by his forwardness today as usually she would browse the shelves for a bit before either he or Robin asked if she needed any help. “Um I'm not sure, what do you suggest” she covers her words with a small smile hoping it would distract from her earlier slip up of nerves.

“Well what do you fancy, action?”

She shakes her head.

“Horror?”

Another no. Steve had expected that though as he knew she didn't like them but he liked to tease.

“No I know, no tough guy to keep you safe while watching. Sci-fi?” He moved on as if it were nothing, like he hadn't just remembered something she'd said months ago, even if it was a joke, and that she wasn't short circuiting in front of him.

Another, albeit delayed shake of the head.

“How about a bit of romance?” He followed his words with suggestive raises of his eyebrows that had her stuttering out an ‘okay’ as she followed behind him towards the right section.

Steve was enjoying himself, it'd been a while since his attempts to flirt had received anything but a roll of the eyes or in some cases a giggle if they'd been after a bit on discount but he doesn’t think he'd managed to turn anyone into a stuttering mess. Maybe Robin was right and he was expecting a ‘told you so’ in the very near future but he was going to make it worth it, maybe get her to agree to a date before she left.

“Now this one I have been told, from a very credible source, is a classic” he played it up, reaching toward the shelf and pulling out The Princess Bride, “it tells the tale of a beautiful princess who falls for a simple farm boy, who is in search of employment and gets attacked by a pirate?” Steve stops a little confused by the synopsis of the film and as he hears a giggle he looks up to find it coming from her.

“Sounds like it has a bit of everything” she smiles, sounding more like her normal self than the stuttering mess Steve had made her with his unexpected flirting. “Ok you've convinced me, I'll take it” she adds, holding out her hand for the tape.

Steve moves to give her it before he seems to rethink pulling it back again. “Too late, I think it's already been rented,” he teases, a sad smile on his face, “so I guess you'll just have to come watch it with me” he adds notchantly as though it's an afterthought and not as if he'd planned it from the moment he realised that Robin was right.

“Well then I suppose that'll have to do” she tries to play it cool when really she's freaking out because Steve Harrington has practically just asked her on a date. “Friday night, your place?” She asks.

“Friday night, my place” he confirms with a nod. Problems, or in this case perks, of living in a small town everyone knew everyone's business including where they lived.

“I'll be seeing you then” she nods, the smile in full force on her face as she turns, heading towards the door but she stops before she exits. This time turning in the opposite direction, Robin's direction, and that's when Steve notices that Robin's still peeking over the shelves but she's quick to duck down as if she hadn't been watching the two of them. “bye Robin” she chuckles before actually leaving this time.

After the sound of the door closing and the footsteps retreating does Robin finally exit her hiding place. “You know Robin, if this works out then I owe you one” Steve smiles appreciatively at her as he places the tape on the counter ready to ring out.

“Yeah, yeah that's just what friends are for, just don't parade it in front of my lonely, single self” laughs with a shake of her head.

[byebyassociation]

Cahara the Skank (Character analysis)

Tw: The topics of 1500s prostitution, violent rape and suicide ideation

Text version under cut:

Cahara as a protagonist

“Cahara of the South… He originates from the Eastern Sanctuaries. A bastard child left on his own at a very young age. Somehow this poor soul found his way to these dungeons…”

Cahara grew up under unfortunate circumstances, as he was abandoned in Jettiah he had to learn nothing in life came easy or freely

He had three choices to be a pickpocket, burglar, Or lead an honest life

But this choice means little past starting skill/item. No matter what Cahara becomes a mercenary.

“As you grew older you took part in various mercenary armies and learned the dirtiest tricks to stay alive. You were taken in by a notorious veteran highwayman and you joined his little band of criminals and ex-soldiers.”

Instead his first real life choice is if he will stay beside his first real allies or ditch them for his life.

They do not join him in the dungeons if they live

“During one of your many raids, your brigade got ambushed. The odds were seriously against you. You could have just abandoned your comrades and kept you life, or you could have fought to your last breath...”

He didn’t have to take this mission, however his mental narration states as if he does: shoving down fear for the money.

“Something is clearly not right about this mission and you have felt nausea since the the moment you agreed on the job. But you are short on silver and the reward is all that matters in the end.”

Really, he shoved his own feelings down for Celeste

"Celeste, you're still doing this job with the little one on the way and all?!"

Cahara is not opposed to Celeste’s sex work, instead he is opposed to the men who want her due to her pregnancy

"If anything, I feel like there're more gentlemen folks asking for my services these days."

"This isn't right. I don't like it."

"Girl's gotta eat and now I got the little one to feed as well”

"I'm a man. I should take care of you two."

“I’m leaving tomorrow if— no when I get back things will change. You just wait and see!"

He doesn’t tell her what to do, only stating what he himself can do for her

Sadly, he either already had a sense this could be his end or didn’t even let himself think this would be the last time he spoke to or saw Celeste in the flesh

"Just promise you do come back."

He knocked her up in a brothel and contracted syphilis.

“You also get an itch in your groin area...”

Unfortunately a sign of the sorts of people who’d pay for her services without care for her body.

After at least speaking with Celeste he fully made up his mind. He wouldn’t come back without the cash.

“But didn’t he like it?”

Cahara as an NPC

"Oh hey."

"You got me out of here!"

Upon meeting Cahara in the prisons of the dungeons, he is quick to join your party after a short conversation

[You ask him] “What are you doing here?"

[He answers] "Wwell...”

“I do have a mission here, but let's save that story for another day, yeah?"

Regardless of your questioning, he speaks quite anxiously. Stuttering or going silent in an out of character sequence

[You ask him] "Why were you imprisoned here?"

[He answers] "I was caught by one of those malformed prison guards”

“Your conversation took an awkward turn for some reason...”

Prison guards are shown to be sexually violent to those they have access to. Both in their dialogue, their attacks and how defeat by them causes incurable hemorrhaging from sexual injuries.

Cahara does not show signs of this hemorrhaging, however D’arce doesn’t have a concussion either despite nearly having her skull caved in. Both lack status effects for the sake of balance.

When Cahara robs you he has a preference for stealing healing items

This may be his attempt to patch himself up as there is no canon cure for internal bleeding.

[D’arce’s prison dialogue says] "Le'garde... You were supposed to be here…”

When in the prisons most characters bring up your common mission. D’arce, Ragnvaldr and even Enki bring this point up

Cahara breaks this formula

[Cahara’s prison dialogue says] "Tell me... Did the guards ever capture you here?"

He wants to know if he was the only one. He wants to know if there was anything he could’ve done. He’s seeking solidarity. He’s seeking kinship

"Don't let the dungeon have it's way with you. Bye."

"Talk about traumatizing events... Sheesh…”

"This place is starting to get into my head...”

Does this sound like the words of someone unaffected by the dungeons? He is nonchalant but he is not well. In fact that last line is repeated 11 times. He has 18 unique dialogue lines in party talks, none of his dialogue or anyone else’s appears nearly as many times repeatedly.

He’s gone into shutdown, in the upper areas and especially the prisons and areas around it he just cannot hold up. Mentally he cannot juggle his need to keep moving forward and process what happened. 

This leaves his mind to go entirely unfiltered when he is in a space where he can think. Suicide ideation and turning to sex for comfort being his two major callings in this state. Sometimes even mashing together through his willingness to marry a marriage, a very literally dangerous form of sex.

"Hahaha, this is too good"

"Dying down here is most likely the easiest way to go!"

'I'm starting to feel like death would be the easiest option."

“Cahara seems really enthusiastic.”

"Just don't destroy my anus with those big muscles of yours, okay?"

"Ehh, well that's a freaky suggestion, but fine."