#this is the only ic thing ya'll are getting for me (for now)

[ssivinee]

「 Call Me Sirene 」

l. sophia x f reader ! ✎𓂃 You and Sophia are just from two completely different worlds. She's the rich, smart, and it girl on campus, while you're the kid no one really knows. Usually busy with work, you weren't aware that the two of you had been paired up on a project. When working on the project begins, feelings begin to go all over the place, and now you're mainly worried about Sophia getting involved in your world, especially when you start to fall for her.

word count ! 25.4 k

tags ! a tad bit of Manon x reader (fwb implications), tons of violence, blood, gore, drugs, underage drinking, alcohol, men being pigs, smut

author's note ! GUYS THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT AND POSTING IT, SO PLS BE NICE. I also locked in for ya'll on this one, so enjoy! This is also kind of inspired by Weak Hero on Netflix since that's what I watched on my small writing break last week, so... yea :3.

On screen, living in Los Angeles seemed like a paradise available in the States. The portrayal had always been a place where anyone could make it big. 

However, that is only if you have luck with it. 

Because to the average person, that was all just a fantasy — unfortunately, you seemed to be one of those ‘average’ people. Well, maybe even less than average.

In your own dictionary, an average person meant a decent house, proper food every night, and a loving family. Yet life always seemed to be against you, like a magical force of the universe kept kicking you while you were down, pummeling you.

You’d felt that for as long as you could remember. Those days in your adolescence almost felt like a dream now — something you still held onto, even if it lived somewhere in the back of your mind.

These thoughts always spiraled first thing in the morning. You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror, the ringing in your ears dulling the rest of the loud noise echoing through the house.

Hair tied into a messy ponytail, you washed your face after spitting out the minty toothpaste. A deep breath in — eyes shut — then you rushed out of the bathroom, heading back to your bedroom, doing your best to avoid both your parents.

Well. Supposed to be parents.

They were only fosters, after all — and terrible ones. Your ‘father’ was a drunk who constantly laid his hands on you and your ‘sibling.’ Meanwhile, your ‘mother’ was okay, but she had Borderline Personality Disorder, which made the sudden shifts in her behavior hard to endure.

You weren’t a bad kid, either — even helped pay for your mom’s medication when you could. You had accolades to your name, a scholarship at the academy where you studied. Frankly, they had nothing to worry about. But none of that seemed to matter.

Frantically looking around, eyes scanning for your black zip-up hoodie. After rummaging through the stack of laundry on top of a computer chair, you slipped the hoodie on and ran out of the house.

Walking to school wasn’t ever eventful — hoodie covering your head with wired earphones in and your head down. It was your way of staying unbothered, making sure no one noticed you.

You had hoped — just hoped — for a normal day at school, at least. But then your phone buzzed, and you froze.

Pulling out the phone, you read the message you assumed was coming.

??? We need you right now

“Sophia?” the professor called, glancing up from their schedule as the Filipina raised her hand, a kind smile gracing her lips.

“Professor Hardin wants to talk to you about the assembly tomorrow, so see him after all your classes, please.”

Sophia nodded and continued organizing her notes and papers for Playwriting. As usual, the theater major kept her focus, taking her academics seriously. She heard rustling behind her, followed by a small gust of wind, and turned to see Lara settling into her chair, an iced matcha drink in hand.

“Did she call my name yet?” The younger whispered out of breath, and as Sophia shook her head, “Lara?” 

“Here!” She excitedly announced as she took off her purse and put it right behind her.

“You were late just because of a matcha latte?” Sophia asked, eyes flicking to her with a knowing look. Lara immediately looked offended.

“First off, I was almost late. Secondly, it’s an iced matcha latte. You know I can’t function without it on early mornings.”

Sophia let out a chuckle, going back to jotting down her notes.

“What class is that for now?” Lara looked over, a bit concerned that she didn’t recognize anything on Sophia’s paper.

“It’s Playwriting, so don’t worry.”

Lara sighs in relief and takes out her iPad, then sips on her drink as the Professor begins the lecture. “Heard Professor Ortiz is giving out pair projects, so fair warning during your last class,” now Sophia sighs at Lara’s whispered warning, hating anything other than solo projects since she did the majority of the work every time.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, but Sophia’s dread lingered — especially with the looming thought of finding out who her partner would be. By the time she sat down in the smaller lecture hall used for acting classes, her hands were clammy, clenched tightly in nervousness.

The Professor walked in and immediately put down his clipboard. 

“As you guys may have heard, you’ll be having a project that will be done in pairs. It’ll be due in a month, but it's for a thirty-minute mock play. How well your time is used, how much time is used, and the quality of the script will affect your grade.”

He moved in front of the desk and leaned against the table, listening as dramatic sighs filled the room. Sophia only shook her head, frustration bubbling beneath her calm demeanor. But the professor raised a hand to silence everyone.

“Now, now — I know some of you aren’t thrilled about the pairing, but I think you’ll enjoy this project. You’ll have creative freedom, with just a few limitations,” he continued, as papers were passed around outlining the project’s criteria.

“With all that being said, I’ll assign your partners now.”

Sophia sat straight, listening carefully while students around her reacted with either cheers or groans as their partners were announced.

She felt a glimmer of hope as the names of people she didn’t want to work with were called — maybe, just maybe, the universe would finally cut her a break?

“Sophia Laforteza and Y/n L/n.”

Her face reacted before her brain did — confusion and irritation flashing across her features.

Sophia was determined to at least talk to her professor about it. ‘Because who in the hell was that?’ She asked herself.

As if on cue, across town, you felt the burn in your knuckles as you stared down at an older man’s face. He looked shocked at your strength, clutching his aching jaw as he lay on the ground, propped up by one elbow.

“What the hell was that for!?” he shouted. You crouched down, wincing at the volume in his voice — your ears never did well with yelling.

“Shut up for a second,” you grunted as you gave him a forceful soccer kick to his abdomen. 

He let out a groan, curling over as you reached down and grabbed a fistful of his hair. You watched the fear settle into his eyes as he looked past you, desperate for help. His gaze landed on a woman leaning casually against the brick wall behind you, hands stuffed in her jacket pockets. The shades she wore hid the glint of amusement in her eyes.

“Can’t you help me?” He begged her.

Your grip tightened, yanking his head so he had no choice but to meet your gaze.

 “Didn’t we say you pay up when messaged?” You said calmly. He nodded quickly, looking like he was about to piss himself. 

“Then why has it been a week, and we still have nothing from you?”

He couldn’t respond, the panic taking over as you felt him shake. 

He couldn’t answer. His panic had taken over — you could feel the trembling in his body.  

“You know he gave you a chance to pay it back,” a husky voice chimed in beside you. You raised a brow at the woman stepping in — Manon, smirking like always. She hovered behind you and leaned in close, voice low. “But sadly, a week is our limit before we start terrorizing you.”

“Right?” Manon whispered in your ear, and your body nearly shuddered — but you stayed focused on the trembling man beneath you.

“This one’ll be visiting you every day until then,” she added, patting your shoulder. “But you wouldn’t want that, right?” He nodded frantically, eyes wide.

You were ready to throw in another punch, just to get it out of your system, but Manon pulled you back, steering you toward the car and practically shoving you into the driver’s seat of the ride you took care of like it was your own.

“Did you really have to push me in?” you muttered, exasperated. She slid into the passenger seat with that signature charming smile that always made it impossible to stay mad at her. “It was time to go before you started rocking his shit.”

“Isn’t that why you guys pretty much hired me for?”

She nodded, pulling a blunt from her bag and lighting it. After taking a long drag, she exhaled slowly out the window. “Yeah, but~” She turned to look at you, lowering her shades to the bridge of her nose. One hand reached over, her finger brushing lightly along your jaw.

“You know how you get when we meet clients like that. All hot and bothered.” Now, you rolled your eyes. Her ever-so-flirtatious actions never ceased, but it’s kind of why your friendship worked.

It was how you managed to find some kind of fun in your life.

She gave you a quick smooch on the cheek, then glanced down at her phone. “He said if you're finished, you can go.”

That was all you needed to hear before pulling off. You could feel Manon’s gaze lingering on you. “Make sure you at least remember to drop me off,” she teased, and you nod knowingly.

Falling into this lifestyle wasn’t something you planned. It just… happened. Not like you were proud of the job — but it paid way better than anything else you could get. It helped with saving money up for at least a small apartment, and your mom’s medication.

So what exactly was the job?

It’s a bunch of things, honestly, but your boss likes calling it being an ‘enforcer.’ Your boss was a businessman who sold many things, and it was your job to make sure those people paid up.

Thankfully, it never went beyond beating someone within an inch of their life — but the job did make you feel like someone else entirely. A double life, almost.

And even if you weren’t proud of it, you were guilty of enjoying it. That confession may sound crazy to the normal person, but with the environment you lived in, this was a way to release some steam.

Your whole life had been spent trapped in that shitty home, trying to survive as a perfect student. So when you were offered this gig in your second year of college, you were hesitant. But after shadowing another enforcer doing their job, there was a spark you felt.

After that, you never looked back.

You brought the car to a stop, double-parking in front of a run-down warehouse. Manon let out a relaxed sigh beside you. “You can take the car to school,” she said. “He’ll probably ask you to come back later anyway.” Before getting out, she leaned in and gave you a quick kiss on the lips, which didn’t even phase you — that was just her usual antics.

Rushing back to campus, your tires screeched slightly as you pulled into the nearest parking space on campus. You barely put the car into park before grabbing your bag and booking it across the lot and into the building, the wind breezing at your face, with Manon’s expensive scent lingering on you.

Reaching for your phone in your back pocket and glancing at the screen, you exhaled in relief — you’d make it to your last two classes at least. Your stomach growled, and you clutched it in embarrassment, but luckily, no one was around. The empty ache gnawing at you, so you made a beeline for the common area, weaving through multiple students and half-hearted conversations.

Inside, the faint smell of espresso and citrus snacks filled the air. You slid a few crumpled bills into the snack machine from your front pocket, buying a cold coffee and a small bag of chips. The annoyingly loud clink of coins echoed into the machine.

Meanwhile, across the lounge space, Sophia sat at the round couch near the window, her expression visibly irritated as she waved her hand in emphasis.

“I don’t understand why he grouped me with someone who barely even shows up to class,” she complained, arms folded across her chest. Her brows furrowed as she recounted the short conversation with her professor.

She had gone straight to him after class, hoping to reason her way out of the random pairing. But instead of hearing her out, he dismissed her concerns without so much as a second thought.

“You know we don’t prioritize attendance much,” he had said, “but Y/n does well in every single one of her classes.”

That answer didn’t sit right with her. Sure, professors didn’t assign much digitally — it was a performance-heavy major. Most of the work had to be done in person. Still, if you were barely there, how could your grades be that solid?

It didn’t matter, since she couldn’t trust his word for it, because she just couldn’t believe it at all. “This is so… UGH!” she groaned, throwing her head back in frustration.

Yoonchae, Lara, and Megan exchanged small giggles at her dramatics, clearly fond of the rare spirals Sophia has. “It shouldn’t be that bad,” Yoonchae offered with a soft shrug, the youngest of the four trying to ease the mood. 

She looked to the others for support. “She’s right,” Lara chimed in, crossing one leg over the other. “You’re Miss Sophia Laforteza — you’ll make it work.”

“Exactly,” Megan added, leaning back with a stretch, her elbows resting on the armrests of her seat. “Besides, Y/n can’t be that bad if she’s on a scholarship here, right?”

Sophia raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, but does anyone actually know anything about her?”

That question was met with synchronized shakes of the head. Sophia let out another groan, letting her head thunk softly against the back of the couch.

“Wait!” Megan suddenly perked up, her eyes darting across the room. “I think Daniella is friends with her. I’m pretty sure they hang out sometimes between classes.”

The group followed her gaze as she craned her neck, scanning the far end of the common room. Then her finger lifted and pointed subtly. “Bingo.”

Sophia followed the line of Megan’s finger and spotted a table tucked into the corner by the windows. You sat there, slouched slightly in your seat beside the Latina and, oddly enough, you looked like you hadn’t slept in days.

“Oh… she’s hot,” Lara blurted without shame. No one even flinched at the comment; Lara’s bluntness was the norm by now. But Sophia blinked, stunned by how not what she expected you were.

You had this quiet intensity about you — tired eyes that looked like they didn’t tolerate bullshit, with knuckles looking a bit pink in color. The hood of your zip-up hung loosely over your head, stray pieces of black hair framing your face. 

Your hoodie was unzipped low, revealing a plain white tank underneath, snug against your frame, and a tattoo of lilies peeked out across your right collarbone that reached toward your shoulder blades.

Your lips were plush, parted slightly in amusement at whatever your friend said beside you, and there was the faintest curl of a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. You looked like someone who didn’t ask for attention. Which is technically a success if Sophia didn’t know who you were until this project.

“Should you go intro—” Lara began, but Sophia was already ten steps ahead, her heels confidently clicking across the marble floor as she strutted toward your table. “Oh no,” Yoonchae muttered, watching the possible trainwreck about to unfold with a sense of secondhand embarrassment coming over her.

You took another slow sip of your strong, cold coffee, the flavor biting against your tongue as the sound of approaching heels pulled your attention away from whatever Daniella had just said. You looked up, brows pulling slightly together at the sight of the one and only Sophia standing in front of you.

Daniella blinked beside you, just as confused, her head tilting slightly as she asked, “Uhm… hello?” more out of instinct than anything welcoming.

In the back of Sophia’s mind, she had come in ready to make demands, set the tone, maybe even give you a strong few words. But standing in front of you, with your unreadable expression and calm aura, she instinctively knew that wouldn’t go over well. Something about your posture warned her not to try it.

Her expression shifted quickly, the stoic look changing into a practiced, polite smile.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but are you Y/n?”

You didn’t answer immediately — just stared at her for a moment. You could feel Daniella’s curious gaze flicking between you two, waiting to see where this was going. You finally gave a short nod.

Sophia cleared her throat. “We’re partners for Professor Roland’s project in Playwriting. I’m So—”

“I know who you are,” you said plainly, cutting her off with no hesitation. Your voice wasn’t rude — just firm enough for Sophia to believe her intuition was correct about being smart with you. “I’ll talk to him about the project first thing in class tomorrow. Just give me your number, and I’ll reach out.”

You pulled a pen and a tiny pad of yellow Post-it notes from your bag and slid them across the table with the casualness of someone used to giving orders. Sophia hesitated, lips parting slightly in surprise, almost scoffing, but bit it back. Instead, she scribbled down her number, leaning forward and murmuring, “If you’re even coming into class tomorrow.”

You weren’t phased at the comment, just staring right back at her. “I’ll act like I didn’t hear that.”

Sophia’s brows lifted slightly, more in relief than defiance, as she clasped her hands together, putting on her smile again. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

You watched her walk away quickly, her posture a little stiffer than what you’d assume. Across the lounge, her friends immediately perked up like a pack of gossiping birds, leaning in as Sophia dropped back into her seat with an audible sigh.

“That didn’t look too bad,” Megan commented, eyeing her curiously. “How’d it go?” Yoonchae asked, genuinely curious.

“She’s a bitch,” Sophia muttered under her breath as she slumped into her chair, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I can change her,” Lara said dreamily, already gazing across the room like she was mapping out an entire future with you.

“Okay, so it did go bad,” Yoonchae concluded, but Sophia shook her head. “It’s not even that… she’s just bossy!” Her voice pitched up, nearly too loud, and the group hushed her immediately.

“Ohhh, what I’m hearing is… you’ve met your match,” Lara teased, already grinning. “Love a good top,” she added with a smirk, half-joking — but only half. Megan let out a stifled giggle, covering her mouth.

“Not the time,” Sophia muttered, shooting them a glare while Megan and Lara both raised their hands in mock surrender. “Copy that,” Megan mumbled through her smile. “So what now?” Yoonchae asked again, chin resting on her hand.

“She said to give her my number and she’ll talk to Roland tomorrow.”

“That’s if she even comes in tomorrow.”

“That’s what I said!” Sophia huffed, pointing at Yoonchae like they were in sync. She slumped back again with a sigh. “I guess I’ll see how it goes.”

“Don’t forget any details, babe,” Lara said, casually chomping into her sandwich, eyes still flickering toward your table.

“That was odd,” Daniella muttered beside you, her fork hovering in mid-air. You just shrugged, eyes still lingering in the direction Sophia had disappeared. “I’m guessing Miss Perfect isn’t too thrilled about being partnered with me.”

That made Daniella chuckle, nudging you lightly with her elbow as she poked toward Sophia’s group with her fork. “It did seem like she was holding back.”

“Then she made a good decision.”

Daniella tilted her head, one brow raised, giving you that don’t be a menace look. “Be a little nice, please.” You stared at her like she’d just spoken a foreign language. “Am I not nice?” She didn’t even hesitate, “You can be a bit bossy sometimes.” She took another bite of her chicken, chewing with zero shame. “And honestly, you don’t want to make her your enemy. All your brains won’t mean shit if she decides to make your life hell.”

A slow smirk tugged at your lips. “I can handle her.” Daniella hummed, not convinced. “Sure~ you can.” Even if you weren’t at school every day, you knew plenty about Sophia Laforteza. The Filipina was rich, driven, smart, popular — basically a walking main character, and people liked her… or at least pretended to. 

“Oh, are you coming over for dinner tonight? My mom’s cooking.”

“What’s tía making?” you asked, instantly more invested in the conversation. “Vaca Frita.”

You let out a soft, involuntary sound — almost a moan — just from hearing it. But then your shoulders slumped, the responsible part of your brain taking over. “I’ve got work later. Can’t tonight.”

Daniella knew well enough not to push. “Your loss then, girl.” She checked her phone and jolted slightly. “Crap, I gotta head out — class starts in five. I’ll text you tonight?”

You nodded, watching her grab her bag and head out. You opened your chips, the crinkling bag filling the air as you leaned back, letting the salt hit your tongue.

The rest of your day passed without issue. You sat through your classes, sped through the majority of your notes, and eventually made your way to the parking lot just as the sunset tinted the sky.

As you walked out, Sophia and her friends were standing at the campus entrance, waiting for her chauffeur. She glanced around absently until her eyes landed on you. You’d pulled something from your backpack, likely your keys, right before a sharp beep echoed across the lot. Her head turned automatically toward the sound.

And then she saw you slide smoothly into the driver’s seat of a Lexus, shutting the door. “She owns a Lexus?” Sophia asked, barely hiding her surprise. Lara leaned forward, eyes tracking you as if she were witnessing a twist ending. “Well… she’s now officially even hotter in my eyes.”

“I definitely agree,” Megan chimed in, while Yoonchae snorted softly, shaking her head at the chaos that was her friends.

Without a care in the world, you made it to the warehouse—the usual weathered, run-down building squatting between two abandoned lots. You pulled into the large garage, parking among a handful of high-end cars that didn’t fit the look of the building.

You took off your hoodie, the heat causing you to sweat, with tattoos peeking through your white tank, and the scars along your arms could be faintly seen from the multiple fights you’ve been in all the years of working your job. As you entered the building, you saw thick with smoke, smelled cheap liquor, the scent of weed, and whatever stale cologne some of your other coworkers practically drowned their bodies in.

People were scattered across the room: gambling, arguing over cards, drinking, flirting, and lounging around like a normal day.

You spotted Manon near the office door, legs crossed, poised as she sat in her favorite chair. Of course, she’d be waiting for you. It was pretty much her usual thing to do when you guys worked together for the day.

“Did he say anything to you?” you asked, stepping closer. Manon’s eyes swept over you — a slow, deliberate drag — taking in the tank top, the ink, the tough skin. “He said he just wants a report on that guy.”

“Donovan,” you corrected.

“Yeah… Donovan,” she echoed, distracted as she walked up to you. Her eyes flicked to your lips as she hooked her arms lazily around your neck, pulling herself closer with a practiced ease. You leaned your head back with a sigh, already over her antics. “Not now, Manon,” you muttered, slipping out of her hold with ease. 

As your hand reached for the office door, her voice trailed behind you, sounding innocent and sweet. “Then later?” You glanced back, lips curving just slightly. “Maybe.” She evidently lit up at your words, and you pushed through the door before she could say anything else.

Inside, the boss sat at his desk, flipping through a mess of paperwork with the focus of someone who’d seen too much. You stopped in the center of the room, hands instinctively clasped behind your back.

“How did it go with Donovan?” he asked without looking up. “He’ll pay by the end of the day tomorrow,” you said plainly.

“And if not?”

“Then he’ll have a broken arm before midnight.” Your voice didn’t waver, and the way you spoke came out with normalcy. That alone made him smile. “And if he still doesn’t—Y/n?”

“Then I’ll deliver him to you personally.” Each line came out as if a soldier were speaking to their commander. But he liked that about you the most — you were his most reliable enforcer. “Now that’s what I like to hear.”

You rolled your shoulders, neck cracking as you stretched, and asked, “Anything else you need, Rai?”

“No. You’re done for today,” he said, eyes back on the papers. “Stick around if you want.” You nodded once and slipped out. The air outside the office felt colder, and the multiple AC units were working overtime to cool the concrete-covered place. You walked back to where Manon was — in the same seat, more secluded than the rest of the room.

Everyone knew that was her spot. She is Rai’s favorite woman after all, and unlike most women in this place, she didn’t earn her power by flirting her way up. 

Some might think Rai favored you both for the same reasons, but they’d be wrong. It wasn’t about attraction for both of you. It was about the consistency in how much money you make for him, the unwavering loyalty you gave him, and the usual great results. He’s seen it in the weekly reports he had for each of his workers.

It’s why the two of you were usually grouped together, allowed to use any one of his cars, and could even ask for help whenever. Both of you assumed that was the reason he had both of you partnering up during jobs often.

Being an enforcer also didn’t just mean beating up people for their debt, but also protecting the woman who worked with Rai. None of the women did anything crazy, but if they did, Manon wasn’t one of them. She’s just a terrifyingly amazing actress with a face that most men couldn’t resist falling for. 

Yet you were lucky enough to clearly see that Manon had a thing for you instead. 

Although she made it clear that she wasn’t interested in a relationship, at least at this point in her life, that didn’t mean she wasn’t attracted to you. Never stopped her from showing how bad she wanted you, either.

Like now, in the way she’s currently straddling your lap, knees pinning you in place, her face dangerously close, and that signature smirk was slowly spreading across her lips.

“Think you’ll be around tomorrow?” she asked, her voice soft between the light kisses she pressed along your jaw, then to the corners of your mouth. Her weight settled fully into your lap, your hands gripping her thighs with ease. It was Manon’s usual thing, and it was only up to you if the two of you would go any further.

“Probably not. I’ve got things to do for school,” you muttered, feeling her lips stall at your words. Manon pulled back just enough to pout, her eyes softening into that look, the one that always made you sigh without meaning to.

“Will you come here for me then?” she asked, the tip of her finger lightly tracing your collarbone. You exhaled, already defeated. “Not until midnight. I’ve got a project I can’t skip.”

She inched in closer, just enough for her breath to ghost across your lips slowly. “Make sure to make time for me?”

You huffed a short laugh, head tilting back slightly as you looked at her. The absurdity of this woman who is so wanted by so many people, sitting in your lap like you were the only one who existed.

“I’d honestly rather be with you every day instead of working with my project partner, so…”

Her grin curled wickedly. “I’m not hearing a no, Y/n~”

You felt her body shift forward again, like she was daring you to stop her, and when her lips hovered over yours again, just close enough to taste, then whatever self-control you had cracked.

“I’ll make it work,” you whispered against her lips.

She kissed you then, soft at first. You felt her breath from her nose against your cheek as her lips melted into yours, the faint feeling of her lip gloss catching on your tongue when she deepened the kiss.

Her hands slid up your torso, nails grazing at your sides as you feel them through the thin fabric of your top, before curling around the back of your neck. She held you close, anchoring herself against you as her mouth moved with a slow rhythm. 

You wrapped your arms tight around her waist, pulling her flush against you with no space left. Her hips shifted a bit in your lap, “shit.” You could only whisper before locking lips again, and you swore you could feel her smirking.

Her tongue slipped past your lips, like she’d done it a hundred times — and yet, it always made your body heat up. The slow drag of it against yours had your fingers digging gently into the backs of her thighs, feeling every move, breath, and hum that vibrated from her throat into your mouth.

The kiss grew messy since Manon had a need for you, clearly less patient than when she first started. Her hands tangled in your tied-up hair as you tilted your head, kissing her deeper, harder. 

Eventually, she pulled back just a bit, breath shaky, her eyes still half-lidded as she looked down at you with a grin that showed her satisfaction. Her gloss was smudged, lips slightly swollen, and you knew you looked just as wrecked after all of it.

“Midnight, huh?” she whispered, fingertips tracing your jaw lazily. “I’ll be waiting.”

The comment had you chuckling as she slid off your lap. She grabbed her purse from the side of the chair, pulled out another blunt, and offered it to you with a lighter. You raised a brow, tempted since it had been a long day.

“For me?” you joked, and Manon tilted her head, her lips twitching at the corners. “Thought you might want a treat.”

“So what we just did wasn’t my treat?” you asked, more genuine this time, which had Manon giggling before pointing a warning finger at you.

“Don’t tempt me, Y/n. You know I’d take you right here, right now.”

You shrugged a shoulder in casual agreement—and yeah, you did know. She’d grinded on you during slow nights during jobs at the club, whispered filthy things in your ear just to see you react, and once even tried to convince you to fuck her in the back of one of Rai’s cars after literally beating two people up.

Now taking the blunt from her fingers, you perched it between your lips and sparked the lighter, letting the flame burn the edge. Manon watched, gaze hungry, as you took a pull, then grinned as you exhaled a thick cloud of smoke.

“Why are you so hot?” she asked, her voice sounding frustrated yet admiring.

You looked at her, the blunt resting soft on your bottom lip, a slow grin creeping across your face. In your head, the attraction people had toward you never quite made sense. Maybe it was some psychological bullshit. That’s what you liked to blame it on.

Sure, the tattoos and piercings screamed fuck-girl energy, and maybe the way you carried yourself didn’t help. But to you, you were just you. If that made any sense.

You took another drag, felt the burn in your lungs and the heat settle low in your gut, then puffed out a slow stream of smoke before handing the blunt off to Manon, who took it with a satisfied hum.

“So what about this project partner you clearly can’t stand?” she asked, taking a pull herself and letting the smoke drift lazily from her mouth.

“Just a prissy rich girl, honestly.”

“Is she hot?” she asked, deadpan. You cut her a look. “Of course you’d want to know.”

She just shrugged, unfazed. “It’s a valid question.” You rolled your eyes, but still, the question had you pondering. If you were being truly honest with yourself, she’s undeniably beautiful. That’s why people flocked around her and added the money, the intelligence, and the reputation into the equation; you aren’t stupid to not admit she’s hot.

“She isn’t ugly,” you muttered, finally admitting it. Manon cackled at that, familiar with your deflection. After working together for four years, she could read you like a damn book.

“So that’s a yes,” she teased, smug. “Fuck yeah, she is.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” You snatched the blunt from her fingers again, taking a deeper pull as she sat back, visibly entertained.

“You’re clearly about to have a rough few weeks, so good luck to you.”

‘...Yeah, good luck to me,’ you thought, watching the smoke swirl into the air as you took one last drag.

The next day, you walked into your Playwriting class wearing a black long-sleeve compression shirt tucked into your grey baggy sweats. Sophia’s eyes found you immediately as you strolled down the aisle of the small lecture hall, one hand gripping the strap of your book bag while you chatted with Professor Roland.

She watched from her seat, quietly observing the way he nodded along to nearly everything you said. He pulled out a paper, Sophia assuming it was the same one the class received the day prior, and handed it over without question. He was explaining a few things while you listened, head tilted in that way that made it look like you actually gave a damn.

Roland was one of the more chill professors anyway, so it didn’t surprise you when he let you off easy.

You glanced around the room, eyeing your seating options. It was still early, so only about half the seats were filled. That’s when you spotted Sophia, already looking at you, her lips pulled into a tight-lipped smile.

You chuckled under your breath at the expression and made your way over, figuring it’d be smart to sit next to your partner in case class time was given to work on the project. Sophia subtly shifted in her seat, leaning to her right like she was trying to physically distance herself from you.

“You’re here today,” she said, more sarcastic than she probably meant to sound. “I told you I would be,” you replied, setting your bag between your legs as you pulled out a notebook. “I don’t go back on my word.”

She didn’t respond, just glanced at you again—and this time, she didn’t stop. If she wasn’t going to talk to you, maybe she could get a read on who you were by just observing… It was also a good way of checking you out, but she wouldn’t say that out loud.

You gripped your pen, scribbling something down, and she caught sight of your handwriting, which, to her surprise, was actually rather neat. Her gaze then traveled to your hands, which looked strong. A little roughed up, your knuckles having gashes on them and looking a bit darker than the pink she saw the day before. She caught herself wondering what they’d been through to look like that.

You noticed and peeked over at her. “Am I distracting you?” you asked, amused. Sophia snapped her head away, clearly caught. “No, you aren’t.”

You scoffed quietly, fighting a smirk. “What do you want our play to be on?” she asked, tapping on her tablet like she hadn’t just been staring at you.

You shrugged. “You can pick. I’ll go with it.” That made her glance at you, brows slightly raised. “You sure you can handle it?”

You met her gaze with a certainty. “I know I can.”

Setting your pen down, you gave her your full attention. She hesitated, but then answered.

“Fine. A tragic love story.” You nodded once, lips slightly pursed. “I’m cool with that.”

Sophia went back to her tablet, and for the first time since she found out she was paired up with you, she didn’t seem so tense. She could already see the way you were scribbling ideas in your notebook, outlines of scenes, bits of dialogue, maybe even character notes. 

It surprised her how quickly she started to feel… not annoyed? Almost like she didn’t mind this. Then the realization hit her.

…You’d have to act this out… Together… Just the two of you.

She palmed her forehead, cursing herself under her breath. “Wait — how about—”

“No take backs,” you said smoothly, not even looking up from your notebook. Sophia gave you a side-eye, reluctantly amused. “I hate you.”

You grinned. “You don’t even know me yet.”

Yet, by the time class ended, Sophia had to admit that every idea you suggested was actually good. You worked fast and didn’t waste time, pretty much realizing that this was one of the reasons why you continuously passed your classes despite not coming into school. 

She still didn’t know what to make of you entirely, but she could work with this and maybe even enjoy it. “Hey,” she said as you both gathered your stuff. “Do you want to work on the project at my place after classes?”

You glanced over at her. “I can. But only for a few hours — I’ve got work later.”

“That’s fine,” she said quickly. “I’ll text you once all my classes end. Then send the address.” You tell her and she nods, slinging her purse around her arm.  You left her, making sure to meet up with Daniella off campus for the day since she texted you early enough about her many professors canceling classes.

With Sophia, back in the Common Area, she walked in to find her friends lounging in their spot. The second Lara spotted her, she raised her brows with a smirk. “Okay, details now,” Lara demanded.

Megan perked up, and even Yoonchae tilted her head in interest. Sophia rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile creeping onto her lips.

“…It wasn’t awful,” she said, settling into the seat next to them.

“Ohhhh, not awful?” Lara teased, grinning. “We’re already making progress.” Sophia shook her head, reaching for her drink and hiding her face behind the straw.

“She actually does work!” Sophia cheered, throwing her hands up. Yoonchae giggled at the reaction, finding it dramatic for something so basic. “That’s one thing to be happy about,” she said, sipping from her bottle.

“Are you guys working on the project today?” Megan asked between slurps of her noodles. Sophia nodded. “Yeah, for like a couple of hours at my place. She’s got work, so I’m not sure how much we’ll get done.”

Lara leaned back with her iced tea, stirring it lazily with her straw. “I wonder what she even does for work?”

“Probably something with heavy labor,” Sophia replied absentmindedly. “It’s the only thing that makes sense, since her hands are so muscu—”

She froze when she caught the three of them staring at her with matching expressions. “What?” she asked, blinking.

“How long were you staring at her hands?” Megan asked bluntly, while Sophia felt the heat creeping up her neck. Lara squinted, a grin spreading across her face as she spotted the soft pink peeking beneath Sophia’s makeup. “You know, I don’t blame you,” she teased, “but it is kind of unexpected coming from you.”

Sophia rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips gave her away. While the girls were busy poking fun at her, across campus you were heading into the café near campus.

Your eyes scanned the tables and landed on Dani, who was sitting by the window, scrolling on her phone. Just before you reached her, you texted Sophia a simple ‘hey, it’s Y/n,’ so you wouldn’t forget to hit her up later for her address. She sent a quick thumbs-up reaction on the bubble before sliding into the seat across from Dani.

“You order yet?” you asked, dropping your bag onto the floor beside you. “I got garlic bread for us to split, iced chai for me, espresso for you.” You smiled, appreciative. “That works. Thanks.”

She waved you off like it was nothing. “So, how was work yesterday?”

“Easy,” you answered plainly. It had just been a chill check-in with Rai — nothing intense. “And Manon?” she asked, eyeing you over the rim of her cup. Your brow rose instantly. “What about her?”

The name had slipped out during one of those way-too-late conversations you and Dani tended to have. Which was the worst mistake ever since she didn’t even know what Manon looked like, but that hadn’t stopped her from being your number one shipper since.

“Did you guys… You know?” Her voice dropped like she was about to tell you a secret. Your eyes widened at the implication. “We didn’t do it yesterday,” you hissed, before you could accidentally announce it to the whole café.

“Right~” Dani smirked, all smug satisfaction, and you didn’t even have time to come up with a comeback before the server arrived with your order.

You grabbed a slice of garlic bread like it was your saving grace. “What about Sophia?” she asked after a few bites, but she was more curious this time.

“She’s gonna send me her address,” you replied, mouth still half full. “We’ll work on the project for, like, an hour or so. I’m not planning to overstay. Then I’ve got work later tonight.”

“Like�� later later?”

“Yup~” you nodded, voice a little sing-songy.

Dani didn’t say anything, just leaving her knowledge of that again. She didn’t know everything about your job, not that you ever hid it from her, but she definitely knew what “later” meant. Someone was likely going to get hurt by you, she just didn’t know to what extent.

“Think working with her is gonna be a breeze, though?”

“Oh, not at fucking all. Have you met the girl?” you deadpan, and Dani bursts out laughing. “Hey, at least you get to experience the rich life for both of us,” she teases, and you just shrug, not entirely convinced that was a good way to think of it.

If anything, the idea of spending the next few weeks going between your job and someone else's luxury felt more suffocating. The anxiety had been bubbling beneath your skin all day, and getting Sophia’s address right after classes didn’t help. Her place was further than you expected, tucked away in some grand neighborhood that showed up on Google Maps.

If you tried commuting the whole way there and back, it’d be at least an hour each trip, more if traffic hit or the trains got backed up. And by the time you’d need to leave, buses would be packed with people going home from whatever crazy routine they had.

‘Shit,’ you muttered to yourself, slipping your phone into your back pocket. The only solution you could think of was borrowing one of Rai’s cars for the next couple of weeks. You didn’t love the idea since it felt like you were using his kindness, but you figured if you got the project mostly done ahead of time, maybe you wouldn’t need to use the car for a longer time.

After your last class, you texted Rai about taking the BMW, waiting by the edge of the warehouse until you got the simple text.

Rai Keys are in the box Don’t scratch her

You smirked, unlocked the silver car, and peeled out of the lot. What would've been an hour-long commute was shortened to about thirty minutes, the engine feeling more luxurious than expected, and low music from the stereo let your anxiety calm down a bit.

Then Google Maps made you pull up to the large gates. They were black and high—crowned by jagged tips cemented on top of a thick, pale concrete wall. The house behind them was humongous. Spanish-style architecture, with reddish roof tiles and tall windows that reflected the sun right through the dark-tinted windshield.

Your eyes flicked to the intercom. You pressed the button and leaned in, awkward and unsure. “How can I help you?” a woman’s voice asked through the speaker, calm and clipped.

“Uhm—yeah, I’m Sophia’s partner. For the project?”

“Full name?”

“Y/n L/n.”

A moment of silence, then a well-oiled gate started sliding open to your right. You drove in slowly, watching the path wind past perfectly cut hedges and a tiered fountain. Parking just in front of the entrance, killing the engine as the front door opened. An older woman in a maid uniform greeted you with a practiced smile.

“Please come in. Miss Laforteza should be down in a bit,” she said kindly, stepping aside to let you in.

The air inside was cool, air filled with a soft citrus scent and sparkling marble flooring that made you aware of every single scuff on your sneakers. The foyer was already the size of your entire house, and your gaze swept the curved staircase and twinkling chandelier.

Yeah, you were gonna need a minute to get used to this. Shifting in your stance, your fingers tighten around your bag strap as Sophia appears at the top of the stairs. Her hair was loosely tied back, and she was wearing lavender sweats and a snug white baby tee with ‘babygirl’ written in pale pink bubble letters.

The contrast from everyday polished heels and a designer outfit made your brows raise slightly.

“Didn’t think I’d see you in sweats,” you said, more amused than anything. Sophia rolled her eyes, but there was a small smile tugging at her lips. “I am home, so it makes sense to get comfy.”

She turned to the maid, politely asking for drinks and snacks to be brought to the library.

You blinked. “I mean... I’d say this is more than a house,” you muttered under your breath as she waved for you to follow.

“We can work in the library,” she said over her shoulder. You stared at her like she just said, ‘We can work on Mars.’

“Library?” you echoed, brows raised. “Yeah? Is that a problem?” Sophia glanced back, confused. “I guess not,” you replied quickly, trailing behind her. You weren’t really sure what the right response was. 

‘Oh, cool, I’ve got a library too. It’s called a public one, and I wait forty minutes just to use a computer over there.’ 

Every hallway turn just screamed wealth, and a little voice in your brain repeated poor over and over again.

When she opened the doors, the scent of paper greeted you instantly. Warm lighting glowed from sconces on the wall, giving the room a soft amber hue. Everything was dark mahogany—bookshelves stretching up the walls, thick wooden tables, chairs with cotton cushions, and old mirrors.

It didn’t feel warm temperature-wise, but it looked warm. You exhaled slowly, trying not to feel out of place. “All the books in here probably cost more than my entire scholarship fund,” you mumbled, shifting the strap of your bag.

Sophia giggled under her breath, then gestured toward one of the long tables. “Sit wherever. Do you have any ideas?” You nodded, already sliding into the chair and placing your notebook on the table, the exact same one she’d seen in class.

You flipped a few pages, landing on one that was scrawled with notes. Some scene concepts, bits of dialogue, and even sketched thumbnails of stage direction. 

Sophia glanced at the notebook, her brows lifting slightly as she skimmed the mess of notes. Only that it wasn’t a mess, the ideas just seemed to be scribbled and out of order. The lines were neatly sectioned, with little arrows pointing to rewritten ideas and stage cues. She blinked at a few of them, caught off guard.

“You wrote all this… already?” she asked, leaning in a bit more, her voice softer now.

You shrugged, tapping a corner of the book with the back of your pen. “Just what came to mind last night and in class. Didn’t know what kinda story you’d want, so I scribbled a couple of options. A revenge arc. A slow-burn. A dual-perspective thing. This one here’s more metaphorical, could be staged minimalistically since it’s just the two of us acting it out.”

Sophia didn’t answer right away. Instead, she reached out to scroll down on her own screen, silently clicking and pulling up a document. “Let’s… do the slow-burn one,” she murmured, still processing what you wrote down.

Your eyes stayed on her, noticing how she sat more relaxed. She wasn’t leaning away from you like she had in class. Instead, her eyes darted between your notes and her laptop as her fingers sped through each letter on the keyboard.

The door creaked open a few minutes later, and the soft clinking of glassware drew your attention. Her maid stepped in quietly, placing a polished silver tray on the end table. It had two tall glasses of mango juice, a porcelain bowl of salted crackers, and a plate of rigid potato chips. She nodded politely and stepped back out without a word.

“Thanks, Ate Mel,” Sophia called out, before glancing at you again. “In case you were gonna say you didn’t eat.” You smirked, reaching for a chip and flicking a brow. “Didn’t say that. Just wasn’t gonna ask for anything.”

She laughed, surprising herself with how natural it came out. “You’re not really what I expected,” she admitted, reaching for her own glass. The condensation already wet her fingertips.

“That makes two of us,” you quipped, then pointed to one of the sections in your notebook.

“So this—scene two—I imagined a turning point. There’s a moment where one of them is standing in a room full of people, but they only feel her. It’s crowded and loud, but everything dulls except the moment their hands touch. That kind of quiet tension.”

Sophia’s lips parted slightly, and she just blinked again, not quite sure how to respond to the imagery. She read over your note more carefully this time, mouthing a few of the lines. “This is… really good. Like, it’s layered. I didn’t expect you to be so detailed about it.”

You gave a short laugh, looking back at your notebook before murmuring, “Scholarship students kinda have to overcompensate, y’know? We don’t exactly get to breeze through.”

You didn’t sound bitter, but you did sound honest. Sophia studied you in the amber glow of the room’s lights, the way the light kissed the curve of your cheekbone, casting a soft shadow down your jaw. She thought of the way you walked into class like you didn’t care, only to show up with a notebook full of genius-level notes.

“I get it now,” she said quietly. You looked up. “Get what?” She tucked a leg beneath her and smiled, sincere this time. “Why you got into the school.”

You tilted your head but didn’t say anything. Just tapped your pen, smirking lightly under your breath.

Before you knew it, time went by quickly after she gave you such a generous comment. You filled up newer pages; she had opened and closed multiple tabs throughout the past few hours as well. The project, piece by piece, started shaping itself into something you both felt proud of.

Eventually, your eyes caught time on your phone, where it buzzed as a notification appeared from Rai. You started closing your notebook, brushing stray crumbs off your lap, and adjusting the waistband of your sweats.

Sophia noticed how your energy shifted from an easygoing project partner to this serious version of yourself. “You’re leaving?” she asked, watching as you slipped your notebook back into your bag.

“Yeah. Gotta bounce in like fifteen if I don’t wanna be late.”

“Work?” she guessed, leaning her elbow against the table, chin balanced on her knuckles.

You nodded. “Yeah. Late shift.”

Your voice lowered, in a tone that sounded more wary, like you weren’t happy about going, but you would anyway. Sophia stood with you as you slung your bag over one shoulder, following you out of the library. Neither of you said anything as you made your way down the long hallway, down the winding staircase again.

Outside, the early evening had cooled a bit, and the sky was a blend of lavender and gold. You headed for the car, and that’s when she saw the metallic silver BMW. Her brows twitched up subtly. 

It wasn’t judgment in her mind, but more like curiosity and surprise. You didn’t seem in need of money, but you also didn’t seem that rich to own two cars like that.

She didn’t say anything, though. Just walked with you out of the house with arms crossed loosely. You turned around before getting in. “Text me if you think of anything else, yeah?”

Sophia nodded, biting back the thought that was stuck on the BMW. Instead, she just asked, “Same time tomorrow?”

“Works for me,” you said, tugging the car door open. “Thanks for the juice, by the way.”

She smiled and leaned against the stone pillar door frame. “Don’t be late for work.”

You smirked at that and slid into the driver’s seat, the door shutting with a satisfying thud. As you pulled away, Sophia stood there a second longer, arms still folded as she waited for you to leave completely.

Almost hoping, any thought that lingered in her mind would go away as soon as you left her view. But you seemed to have a chokehold on many women’s minds.

While pulling up to a red light, your phone buzzed. Rai’s message popped up with an address attached. He added nothing else to it, but it didn’t take much to guess it was Donovan’s location. Your heart began beating rapidly as you turned onto the highway, weaving through traffic like muscle memory. The lines of each lane seemed blurry to your vision, and your grip on the wheel tightened.

You parked a block away, turned the car off, and walked slowly, realizing that you probably should’ve brought a hoodie for less attention. Hearing the asphalt scraping under your shoes, the faint sound of cars driving from the highway far behind you. 

You kept your head down, with eyes scanning each building as you walked down the sidewalk. Apartment complexes and ruined houses filled the street, and you were mentally making notes to start checking each door you passed—until he showed up first.

Donovan strolled into your view like he owned the block, a grin that made your skin crawl stretching across his face. His eyes locked on yours, noticing how smug he looked.

You stopped walking, arms folding across your chest. “What’s this?” you asked flatly, narrowing your gaze.

He let out a shrill, ugly laugh. “You know, it’s so~ sad that you’re such a pretty lady,” he said, and just as he spoke, three guys rounded the corner behind him. One was bulky, arms evidently thicker than your thigh. Another looked like a gym bro in his ‘off’ season. The last was leaner, but that may work in his favor. Assuming that he brought them here to scare and jump you.

“Maybe in another universe, this could’ve been different,” Donovan added, his voice dropping into something slimy. His tone and the way he implied something more, and the way his eyes stared at you for far too long. Your face showed pure disgust, head pulling back slightly like you could physically distance yourself from whatever the hell he thought that was.

That reaction was enough to piss him off. He licked his teeth, like it’d help his ego. “Have a good time with my friends.”

The three men spaced out, walking toward you with caution. You were standing dead center now, their footsteps echoing faintly off the pavement as they boxed you in.

You blinked, unimpressed. “What kind of movie are we filming right now?” you muttered, then gesturing lazily toward Donovan. “You really pulled a goon trio on me? What, Craigslist wasn’t hiring?”

He just smirked like he knew this was going to work in his favor. “A petite girl like you can’t do anything against them.”

You tilted your head, eyes sharp now. “Yeah? Well, this ‘petite girl’ also kicked the shit out of you yesterday.”

The lean guy twitched. He was losing patience, and you figured he’d be the one to start. He had a crazy look in his eyes, and he… licked his lips in an icky way.

His steps closed in quicker than the others, and before you could even sigh at the predictability of it all, his fist swung wide toward your face. He was clearly excited for a ‘beat down.’

It connected, which had your head snapping slightly to the side. You blinked, let the sting settle for half a second, then turned back to face him slowly. You licked the inside of your cheek and gave a smirk.

“I wanted you to hit me first,” you said calmly, voice flat. “If we get caught here, at least I can say it was self-defense.”

Your hand snapped forward, fingers wrapping around the lean guy’s wrist, pulling him forward just enough to slam your knee into his ribs. The second knee had him grunting, as he almost staggered away from your hold, and you stepped in closer to elbow him square in the temple. He dropped, his body thudding on the sidewalk.

You weren’t sure why people never just went in at the same time; that could be a way to win, but no one ever did. The biggest of the three hesitated, giving you a window. You went low, kicking one shin hard enough that he fell. You hear a tiny crack from his back hitting the pavement, but he caught himself with one hand, scrambling back up quicker than expected.

Maybe he didn’t stretch?

But you backed up, your breathing regulated as your chest rose and fell. Experience would be on your side every time. Being in multiple fights will have you bleeding, sobbing, and clawing for survival, especially as a woman in this job.

He lunged at you again, aiming for your waist this time, trying to lift you up, maybe slam you against a concrete wall. But your body twisted, and you slammed your elbow down into the base of his neck. His arms dropped enough for you to shove him off, and you followed it up with a sharp kick to his stomach. The heel of your sneakers is digging into his navel. He leaned over, holding onto his lower stomach.

You turned just in time to dodge a right hook from the burly one.

He was the real problem for you here. Having thick arms, bulky shoulders, and the kind of weight that could crack bone if hit in the right place. You ducked, using your smaller frame to slide around him and catch him off balance. You went for his knees, aiming a kick to the back of one. He faltered and gave you the opening to jump onto his back and wrap your arm around his neck in a tight hold. 

His hand shot back, trying to grab you, and he managed to elbow your side hard enough to make you gasp for air. But your grip held, wrapping your legs around his waist to keep you on. You counted seconds, about fifteen seconds, until his legs finally gave, and you released just before he blacked out completely. He just slumped onto the ground, looking like a drunk man after a crazy Saturday night party.

The second guy tried to sneak you from behind, but you turned around just in time. Gripping the front of his shirt, and headbutted him right to his nose, breaking, blood spurting instantly as you hear a gnarly crack. He staggered backward with a groan, hands covering his face, and you ended it with a kick to the side of his knee that buckled him flat to the ground.

All three were down, and you were breathing heavy, knuckles sore, the ache from that first punch settling into your jaw. You wiped the blood at the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, turning your head slowly.

Donovan hadn’t moved, just standing there as he watched his plan fail within three minutes. Probably expected them to jump you fast and leave you crying for help.

“You fucking idiot,” you muttered under your breath, walking toward him. His cocky expression faltered as he tried acting all friendly now. He still thought he could talk his way out of it. “Hey, listen—”

You weren’t hearing any of it as your hand grabbed his wrist and twisted fast, too fast for him to register what was happening until you heard the pop out of its socket. He screamed and began panicking like the first time you met him.

You stepped in closer, inches away from his face, while fury coated your voice.

“You really thought that was gonna work?” you asked, twisting again just enough to make his knees buckle lower. “Three guys, on the sidewalk, taking me on? That’s your plan?”

“I—wait—Y/n, c’mon—”

You heard another crack as you took his other arm, faced his palms up, and punched his elbow with enough force that broke his arm. He dropped to the ground with a sharp sob, curling around the pain. His legs trembled beneath him.

“I should’ve done that yesterday,” you spat.

A few passing cars honked in the distance, someone muttered something on the opposite sidewalk, but no one stopped. No one was dumb enough to involve themselves in this area, but some people would be smart enough to call the cops. So you had to get out of the area as fast as possible.

Dragging him up by his shirt collar, you pulled his limp body to the passenger side of Rai’s BMW, opened the door, and shoved him inside like garbage. He moaned, trying to clutch his arm, but the two broken limbs made it impossible. You didn’t even care about any blood coating you… Or him, in all honesty, but you warned him, yet Rai wouldn’t be happy with his little stunt either way.

“Don’t bleed on the seats,” you warned.

You drove straight to the warehouse. The sound of your foot against the pedal and Donovan groaning quietly in the seat beside you, every bump had him sounding like a soundboard noise in pain.

When you pulled up and parked, you got out and walked to the other side. Ripped the door open and grabbed him by the collar again, hauling him out.

Rai stood near the entrance, cigarette between his fingers, already waiting. You tossed Donovan forward like trash day came early. “Here’s your boy,” you said, dusting your hands off. “He’ll need a doctor. Or don’t. Up to you.”

Rai blinked, exhaled smoke through his nose. “Broken wrist?”

“And both arms.”

“…Damn.” You just rolled your eyes. “Next time he pulls this shit, I’ll break his legs too.”

You spit right beside him, the metallic taste of blood leaving your mouth as you went over to the car to get your bag and walk home.

Two weeks went by, and Sophia could admit that everything had been going smoothly. You were both down to the final stretch of your project, with only the acting portion left to do at the end of the month.

And safe to say… she’d started liking having you around. Maybe not in a head-over-heels romantic way, but there was definitely something there. That she even believed to be mutual, especially in the way she would catch you staring sometimes.

She even caught herself changing in a way she wasn’t expecting.

Every time you came over, Sophia found herself preparing like she was about to go on a date instead of a project. She’d hop in the shower the second she got home, scrubbing her skin like she needed to get rid of every spec of dirt she felt on her body. Then she’d do her hair, careful to make it look effortless, like it was naturally that way, but still stylish. 

Her regular routine makeup would then follow next making her look much fresher rather than looking like the school air attacked her throughout the day. A touch more gloss, a little more highlight on her cheekbones. She’d make sure her lips looked much more plump to the point they were kissable.

And the comfy clothes got... comfier. Sweatpants were replaced with booty shorts that clung onto her thighs, tank tops cropped shorter with thinner fabric, just enough to maybe catch her bra peeking through.

Still, even with all that effort, seducing you wasn’t exactly the priority. That wasn’t what was on her mind when you were around.

Because during those late-night sessions and snacks in her house library, Sophia started noticing small things. The kind most people wouldn’t catch unless they were looking too closely.

Like the faint bruises, hidden under a layer of foundation, where a bluish shadow near your jaw could be seen. The purplish-yellow spots that faded around your knuckles. Tiny cuts near the corners of your lips, sometimes barely noticeable unless you stare blatantly at your lips.

She wasn’t stupid; you were clearly getting into fights. Multiple at that, and from the way you moved, you didn’t want her to notice.

Sophia knew better than to ask anyways. You weren’t close enough for her to pry, and she wasn’t sure what answer she’d even want from you if she did.

She wasn’t even sure if she should be concerned… because you being roughed up was the reason why this sexual attraction came up in the first place. Like Lara said, you were ten times hotter, and it almost made her feel guilty.

Sophia should act like a normal human being and care, maybe even ask if you were okay, but it just never came out.

While you sat cross-legged on the chair, scribbling down notes for the script, Sophia’s mind had drifted somewhere else. Once you glanced up, you caught her staring blankly at her laptop screen, eyebrows lightly pinched like she was deep in thought, but definitely not about the project.

Leaning forward slightly, you tilted your head to get closer to her line of sight. “Miss Sophia the First?” you asked, your voice teasing, just inches from her face.

She jolted in her seat, eyes growing wide. “Jesus,” she muttered, trying to play it off while she raked her fingers through her hair, smoothing it down even if it didn’t even need fixing.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” you chuckled, watching her fiddle around longer than anticipated. “You didn’t,” she insisted, brushing it off way too quickly.

You tilted your head, unconvinced but amused. “Right. Totally.”

She kept her eyes on the screen, but you could feel something looming in the back of her mind. You weren’t sure if she wanted to talk about it, but you didn’t see the harm in asking.

“What were you thinking about?” you asked, leaning back, casually counting off the instances in your head. “This is what? The fifth time you’ve spaced out today?”

“It’s nothing,” she said with a quick shake of her head, though you could see whatever was still weighing in her mind through her hardened face.

“Nothing, in girl code,” you said, tapping your pen against your knee, “means there’s absolutely something. So spit it out, Lafortezza.”

She sighed like she didn’t want to ask. “What do you do for work?” she finally said, voice a bit too quick, the question had been rehearsed in her head several times before she just spat it out of her system.

You blinked at the sudden change. It wasn’t a surprise to normal people. You hadn’t exactly been subtle with the bruises. The makeup was there mainly for professors, so Sophia wasn’t who you were hiding it from.

“Just some dangerous stuff,” you answered vaguely, offering a shrug like it was no big deal.

“Is it boxing?”

“No.”

“Wrestling?”

“No.”

“Are you selling drugs?”

You snorted, caught so off guard by that one, you nearly gave yourself whiplash trying to look at her. “What—? No, Sophia. I’m not selling drugs.”

She frowned, her concern written all over her face. “Then why are you hurt every day?”

Her voice was softer this time, in a more careful tone. You felt your heartbeat quickening as her eyes searched yours. That worry she voiced was real as her eyes pleaded.

“I just work in a dangerous environment, Sophia. I promise, it’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“But what if you get hurt… like really hurt next time?” she asked, rubbing at her arm like she was comforting herself as much as she was asking the question. You smiled gently, touched by the concern. “Then I’ll deal with it,” you said. “This is the work I chose to do. So whatever happens, I have to handle it.”

She nodded slowly, her eyes dropping. She knew you were old enough to make your own decisions, but still, seeing the aftermath of whatever life you were living made her stomach twist a little more each time.

The secret was how it also riled her up, the vibe causing her to find you even sexier than the first time her eyes laid on you.

“I get it,” she murmured, backing off, letting it settle.

There was a pause before she cleared her throat, trying to move on. “Uhm, Lara’s having a party this weekend.”

You raised a brow. “Are you just telling me… or are you inviting me?”

She immediately started waving her hands in a panic, the words tumbling out fast. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to come!” You burst out laughing at her reaction, watching her release a huff into a pout. “I’d love to go. Just text me the details.”

A soft little “yeah” slipped from her lips, her face still slightly pink as she turned her attention back to the script, trying to bury her fluster in the keyboard.

You scooted your chair closer, peering over her shoulder to read what she was typing. The chair let out a small creak, and you leaned in without thinking, voice near her ear.

“Are all the stage directions written down?”

Sophia froze, her fingers pausing mid-keystroke. You were so close, like a literal inch from her face. Close enough that she could smell your perfume, which smelled of citrus, and feel the faint brush of your breath against her shoulder.

“Yeah,” she managed, voice shaky as her hands started fumbling across the keys. So much typing, backspacing, retyping again.

“And all the notes are in?”

“Mhm.”

“Cool. Email it in, then we’re done.”

There was a lightness in your voice that she hadn’t heard before. A kind of happiness she had never realized you were capable of expressing.

But then a thought hit her, this was almost over. The project, the only way to see you every day, the shared late nights, the quiet moments, and the banter were all about to end. After this, you’d go back to your usual schedule. Showing up in school only when it was necessary, and seeing you every now and then in the school’s common area instead of sitting next to you in class.

Sophia didn’t want that, and inviting you to Lara’s party was only a step into seeing you more often out of a serious setting. It was a way to keep you around, but only for one night, and that wasn’t enough.

She had to find another way. A way that made it clear she wanted to see you more, and hoped that maybe you wanted to see her more, too.

The two of you kept working, in silence, as you reached the final stretch. Luckily, just before the clock hit 10 PM, the document was attached to a quick email, your name typed on the subject line, and sent off to your professor for the night.

You started packing up your things in a slow manner, your hands moving absentmindedly as your attention drifted to Sophia. She closed her laptop and let out a quiet sigh, sliding down in her chair until her head leaned back and lightly touched the backrest.

“So, what are your plans for tonight?” you asked, the words slipping out without thinking.

She turned to look at you, caught off guard for a second. You couldn’t see her struggling not to say something like ‘oh, just lying in bed and texting the group chat about you.’

“I might watch a movie?” she finally spoke. “I’m not too tired yet.” You nodded, slinging a strap of your bag over your shoulder. “It is Friday. I’ll probably knock out later than usual anyway.”

“What are you planning on watching?” you asked, finishing up the last zipper of your bag. Sophia, not prepared for a follow-up question, blurted out the first movie that popped into her mind. “Train to Busan.”

You raised an eyebrow as you looked at her. “Train to Busan?”

She gave a half-shrug, trying to play it cool. You thought it seemed a little out of character for her, not seeing her as the horror type, but you did love that movie.

“That’s actually one of my favorite zombie movies,” you said with a hint of surprise in your tone. She perked up instantly, straightening in her chair. “You like zombie movies?” You nodded, sliding your phone into your pocket. “It’s one of my favorite genres for movies and shows. Like ‘Kingdom?’ Top tier.”

Her whole face lit up at the mention of the show. “I love ‘Kingdom’ too!”

You smile at her enthusiasm. “Well, maybe we can rewatch it together sometime.” She paused. Then, immediately asks, “Are you busy tonight?”

You shook your head, brow furrowing slightly at the sudden question. “Not really. Why?”

“Then why don’t you stay for a while?” she offered. “We can watch ‘Train to Busan’ tonight. ‘Kingdom’ can be for another day.”

You could tell she was trying not to sound too excited, but there was a look in her eyes that told you she really hoped you'd say yes. And honestly, you were pleased with the invite. You didn’t have any work tonight, so a quiet night in didn’t sound bad at all.

You gave her a small smile. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

Sophia stood up, stretching her arms up, and began to exit the library. Without hesitation, she cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled down the quiet hallway. "Can someone bring up ramen and mango juice again?!" she called out.

Her voice echoed down the hall before you heard a muffled ‘okay’ from the lower level of the house. Sophia turned back to you with a smirk. "Hope you can handle spice."

You scoffed, raising a brow. "I can." There was a tone of confidence that just made her grin wider. "Alright then! Add the whole packet of spicy sauce to both!" she shouted once more.

Then she led you to her room, walking further down the corridor. You trailed behind her, and the faint sounds of your footsteps could be heard until she opened a large white door. "Come on in."

The moment you stepped inside, you were hit with the soft scent of… jasmine? It’s subtle enough that taking a deep breath wouldn’t hurt your head. Your eyes begin to scan the room, seeing a minimalist aesthetic to it. The walls were a pure white, not a speck of dirt in sight. Some greenery in grey stone pots added some color to the room. 

Against one wall was a large vanity with a bunch of bulbs surrounding the mirror, its table full of high-end makeup brands and gold-handled brushes that were organized. It looked like a luxurious beauty store. A plush light pink egg chair is placed in front of it, and it looks extremely comfy.

Across the entrance of the room, her bed stands out from the entire space. It was king-sized, with a modern bedframe in white. Champagne-colored satin sheets shining due to the lights. Lying over the top was a massive, fluffy comforter in a baby blue that looked like it could swallow. The pillows were fluffed, unlike your wilting, lifeless pillows at home.

Facing the bed directly was a large flat-screen TV that was mounted on the wall. It legit looked like a Pinterest picture in real life. You couldn’t help but wonder if this room was purely for sleep or if she actually hung out in it like a normal person.

"Take a seat. Get comfy," she said, already sliding into the bed. She sank beneath her comforter with her head slightly peeking out while her hands reached for the remote like muscle memory.

She looked cute, but that wasn’t something that would come out of your mouth. Not to Sophia at least… yet.

You hesitated for a second before sitting on the edge of the bed, rigid and upright, looking stiff as a board. You didn’t know how to relax in a space this expensive. You were JUST getting used to the library after coming around for two weeks. Maybe you should’ve assumed every room you walked into would feel like a different dimension in the large house.

Sophia didn’t notice at first as she scrolled through the variety of movies and shows, finally clicking on Train to Busan. The lights had already been turned off before the movie started with the use of a damn remote, the only light now beaming from the large screen.

You stayed sitting like that for a good ten minutes, which you were somewhat used to since you would stand in front of Rai that way during reports to him. 

The room was quiet except for the movie, and you watched, but it wasn’t really registering. Because your focus kept drifting to how warm and soft the bed was under you. Meanwhile, Sophia was already snuggling in the comforter. 

Eventually, she side-eyed you and sighed. Your tense posture was physically stressing her out. You looked like you were about to fall off her bed and march out of the room.

"You look like you’re about to fall off," she said, deadpan.

You looked over at her, meeting her gaze briefly before looking back at the TV. "I’m good." She raised a brow, “You’re sitting like I’m gonna bite you.”

"I’m fine," you repeat, but your tone didn’t help you at all.

“Lie back,” she told you, her soft voice sounding like she’s coaxing you, and it was working. You hesitated because something about getting comfortable in her space felt... weird. Like the moment you let your guard down, it would change whatever dynamic you and Sophia had going on.

But you leaned back slowly after taking off your shoes, back finally pressing into the fluffy comforter. Your body feels like it melted straight into the bed. Your legs stretched out beside hers, your brain hyper-aware of where her body was, like a foot away from you under the covers.

Across both your faces, flashes flickered, in what felt like every scene of the movie, as the tensions began rising. People were starting to notice things were off as screams began to come from the back of the train. You could hear the sound of glass breaking and the frantic thump of feet as people ran. The moment always entertained you, no matter how many times it was watched.

You loved it because to you, this was ‘pure cinema.’

Sophia hadn’t moved much, but every now and then, you felt the comforter shift. What you didn’t know was her adjusting to get sneaky glances of you.

You stayed still, eyes glued on the screen, and didn’t say anything. Just as you got used to the position, the door cracked open, and one of the maids came in. She carried a large wooden tray in her hands, two steaming bowls of buldak noodles, and two glasses of mango juice with chopsticks beside them.

"Thank you," Sophia whispered as the tray was set beside the side table near her. She passed you one of the porcelain bowls with chopsticks. Both of you now sitting up as you ate, and the occasional sounds of slurping and coughing from Sophia could be heard.

She was the first to break the silence, reaching for her mango juice after her third bite, eyes watering slightly as she coughed some more into her elbow. “Okay, damn,” she muttered, fanning her mouth. “That spice isn’t playing around.”

You kept eating like it was nothing, taking pretty large bites, and the spice didn’t faze you. Your lips were a little red, but you weren’t huffing and puffing or asking for your glass of juice. Sophia stared, eyes narrowing. “How are you not dying right now?”

You looked at her mid-bite as the noodles drooped over your bottom lips and into the bowl, giving her a simple shrug. “This isn’t that bad.”

“Mild?!” she coughed again, immediately going for another sip of mango juice. “You’re not human.”

You chuckled, setting your bowl back on the tray and asking for your own drink, NOT because it was spicy but because the spice was making you thirsty. “I told you I could handle spice. Besides, this tastes like the pink one.”

Sophia groaned dramatically, setting her bowl down on her lap and leaning back into her mountain of pillows. “You said it so confidently, but I thought you were being cocky.”

You smirked, stretching your legs a bit further under the covers. “I was being for real.”

Her eyes were watery, but she was still adding humor while in slight pain. “I feel like my tongue’s been set on fire. I’m in physical pain right now.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, mixing with the low rumble of the movie’s background noise. Sophia grabbed her mango juice again while hissing to get cold air. “This better not be how I go out,” she said, taking a long sip. “Killed by ramen.”

You give a satisfied smirk, eyes flicking back to the screen. “Don’t worry. I’ll give you a eulogy.”

She threw a pillow at you, missing by a mile as it shot past your head and onto the floor. “You’re literally the worst.” But she was smiling, still with tears in her eyes and the slight sweat on her brow.

Time ticked by, and the silence was there again after both of you finished the ‘bowls of pain’ in Sophia’s words. While your attention stayed mostly glued to the movie of interest, Sophia just couldn’t stop looking at you. Her eyes would glance to the side every now and watch how the TV cast a glow across your features. Highlighting your cheekbones, casting shadows along your jawline, and each scene reflecting through your eyes.

But then, the movie reached that scene.

The one where the father, Seok-woo, held his daughter close as he sacrificed himself to save her. His face was bloody and broken after everything they’d been through on the train. Then cued the slow music, adding to the drama of the scene. You had watched the movie many times, to the point where you didn’t cry during the sad moments anymore. But as you watched, you heard a soft sniffle.

You turned your head slightly, finding a single tear streaming down Sophia’s cheek, a crystal-like path layered above her skin like glass. The light from the screen made it shimmer, and oddly enough, there was something heartbreakingly beautiful about it. Her lips trembled just a little. Her brows furrowed, her subtle expression twitching every time she hitched a breath.

You didn’t even think about anything, as your body moved on its own. You push yourself over to the right and carefully lean over the upper half of her body. Gently, your thumb grazed the tear off her cheek, as your other arm settled right beside her head as you hovered over her.

Sophia’s eyes widened, lashes fluttering as her lips parted like she wanted to say something, but nothing would come out properly.

Your hand, for some reason, caressed her cheek and kept its spot. Your fingers shifted slightly, brushing the side of her jaw now as neither of you looked away. Sophia was scared that if she did, none of this would be real.

The space between you felt thinner while the noise of the movie started becoming nothing but background sound as the two of you lay there, like time had paused.

Her breath was shallow, and yours wasn't much steadier. And in that quiet moment, her face leaned just a little closer. So did yours.

You couldn’t process pulling away, and instead, your body leaned in more comfortably as your hand lingered on her jaw, heart thudding loudly in your ears.

Then your lips connected, the soft bond of the kiss. Her lips were warm, pillowy, still tasting like a hint of mango and spice. There was a second where neither of you moved, just letting it all happen.

She tilted her head slightly, deepening it as her hand grasped your wrist, not wanting you to move away. You exhaled into the kiss, pressing in a little more as you let your body rest on top of hers, chest brushing against each other. The comforter shifted between your bodies as the two of you kept tilting heads wanting more, the flicker of the movie dancing across your closed lids and warm skin.

There felt like a shared illusion that time was holding still. Sophia’s thumb grazed along the inside of your wrist, slowly trailing down to your waist. Her breath was warm against your skin when the kiss finally softened again, slowing but not stopping, like neither of you knew how to break away from each other.

But then the TV let out a scream, maybe a line of dialogue, and just like that, you pulled away. You were both catching your breath, lying back down into your original positions as you stared at the screen with heavy breaths filling each other's ears.

Neither of you said a word.

Sophia swallowed hard, eyes staring back at the screen as if nothing had happened, but her mind was clearly spinning. She wanted to ask or say something, like wanting to know what it meant, if anything. But she felt tongue-tied as her body remained still, as if she could pretend it didn’t just happen… or that it did, and she was still in it.

You couldn’t handle the silence or the weight that began to settle on your chest.

It felt like everything happened so fast. One moment you were watching, the next you were eating, then you were sucking each others faces off. For once, the confidence left your body, and you didn’t know how to function… and that in itself scared you more than any fight you had ever been in.

So, after a moment, you sat up. The warmth of the comforter was gone, and the shift in weight on the bed made Sophia subtly flinch as you stood up from your spot.

“I should head out,” you said, your voice trying to sound calm.

Sophia nodded, her expression unreadable. She wanted to say something to make you stay, or just talk about it, but nothing right came out. “Okay,” she said quietly, almost like it hurt to respond.

You grabbed your bag with unsure hands, walking toward the door like the air had turned thicker around you. You couldn’t even dare look back at her because you felt like a wuss for not speaking up for yourself.

Your thoughts were everywhere. Confusion and hope that almost made you start hyperventilating as you walked out of the room. Hope that Sophia feels it too, maybe of you not ruining something by crossing a line.

The hallway felt colder on the way out as your fingers clenched the strap of your bag tighter than usual, trying to stop thinking about it. But Sophia basically imprinted herself in your mind, her breath, her lips, the way she didn’t pull away.

Meanwhile, Sophia sat there long after you were gone, as the movie's ending credits began running. Her lips still tingled while admitting to herself that she wanted more. That much was obvious.

But she didn’t know what you wanted. And she was afraid to ask. Because rejection wasn’t scary. If anything, it was a part of life, but rejection from you made her assume it would crush her and take a long time to recover.

Her fingers brushed the spot you’d been just moments ago, where the warmth of your body still lingered even with a blasting AC in her room. It was stupid to hold onto it, because maybe the kiss was just a kiss.

Her thumb moved up toward her lips, pressing against the bottom softly—still able to feel the phantom weight of yours on them. 

She’d tried to make herself more noticeable, choosing risque ways like skimpier outfits at home, applying thick coats of gloss. But she hadn’t expected it to work, and had you kissed her in a way that felt so natural. Not how it somehow made her breath catch in her throat.

But what hit her harder than the kiss itself was how fast you left. The feeling was too much.

Sophia turned her head toward the TV again, only to realize the movie had ended and was now stuck on the menu. Her heart still beating quickly for her to even care, so she turns off the TV to let her thoughts simmer.

Maybe she’d misread everything. A heat-of-the-moment type of deal. But it didn’t feel that way when you wiped her tears and stayed hovering just inches over hers, gaze flicking between her lips and eyes like you couldn’t decide what part of her to focus on.

…Yeah, no matter what way Sophia tried to twist the narrative in her head, it just wasn’t helping her feelings. In fact, it was driving her mad in the way she tried denying her blooming crush for you.

She sighs, turning over to bury her face into the pillow that still smells faintly of you. Sophia knew she wasn’t going to sleep right away as she kept replaying the way you looked at her right before the kiss, and the way your breathing stuttered for half a second after your lips brushed hers.

You, on the other hand, speed walked without even thinking about what direction your legs were taking you at first. You weren’t the type to run away from your feelings. Especially, not when someone had just kissed you like that, and not when it felt that good.

Hell, you had made out with Manon multiple times, and that surely felt good. Even going way further than kisses, to her being completely undressed beside you.

But your head was spinning, and you didn’t know what to do with it. The chill of the night didn’t even bother you. Instead, it was waking you up, helping calm your body down before you could spiral any more.

You shoved your hands into your jacket pockets, heart still racing as you walked through the quieter streets of town and down the block toward your place.

The memory of her lips on yours wouldn’t go away, not even for a second. Yet you didn’t want it to.

Even stepping into your house didn’t do much. The usual clanking of your dad’s alcoholism would usually have you feeling irritated as your mother tried acting as if everything was normal, but you just walked upstairs to your room and shut your door.

Swinging your back against the wall, you took off your jacket and crashed onto your bed while your knees hung off the side. You were usually better at controlling yourself. It was quite literally part of your job to do so, or else you would go insane with the possibility of beating someone to death.

She didn’t know what kind of life you lived. Yeah, she was smart enough to figure out bits and pieces, but not the full scope of things. 

You were okay with being friends with her, but her getting involved with you could be dangerous. It made you think of the way you woke up sometimes with blood still under your nails, or how your ribs still ached if you pressed on them wrong. Even aspects of your life at home.

It was something you didn’t ever want to burden anyone with. The job and school were your escape for that reason.

So a kiss like that would scare the hell out of you. Because it felt too good and with a pristine person, which didn’t make you feel any better.

You hadn’t even said goodnight, and it made you want to punch yourself. 

‘What the hell am I gonna do?’

It had been five long days since you left Sophia’s room and shut the door. You couldn’t even fathom returning to school after that Friday. You did not want to avoid her, but also couldn’t fathom seeing her or saying anything.

Luckily, you were known to not show up on campus unless something important needed to be done, and there were two weeks before performances were happening. So, you stuck to what you knew best. Instead of staying home like a regular person, faking a sickness, or lying about classes to their parents, you buried yourself in work.

Rai didn’t question the sudden amounts of availability in your schedule. If anything, this was something that would work in his favor, giving you many of the dangerous jobs with your high success rates. It was basically back to normal, the late nights, money exchanges, and bloodied knuckles. One of the things on the list of priorities you’d have would be stopping by campus, and sliding assignments under the professor’s office doors in manila folders with your name neatly written across the top. 

You’d show up for about twenty minutes max, showing up to about six offices around the building, then go right back to the warehouse. Sometimes you’d sit around pretending to read, headphones in, jaw clenched tight enough to pop as your mind drifted to space.

Trying to get Sophia out of your head was literally mission impossible. It seemed like everywhere you looked or focused, on reminded you of her. Which made you want to scream at yourself because some things were just so far-fetched, your mind just clinging onto the idea of her.

Like when you saw a bunch of teens eating ice cream, one of them having a tall strawberry cone while walking home. THE COLOR PINK WAS MAKING YOU THINK OF HER.

So, you thought of distracting yourself in another way, and it was by doing what you were best at.

Hitting people, who deserve it, of course, extremely hard. And now with thoughts spiraling in your head, you lacked a tad bit of self-control, which was out of the norm for you.

But it seemed like out of the norm was the pattern for the past few weeks.

So when Thursday night hit the calendar, you and Manon had a drop scheduled at one of Rai’s partner clubs. These were clubs Rai did business with caution and the safety of his employees. This one in particular was one of those neon-lit places that always smelled like sweat, money, and a lot of perfume since women seemed to like the aesthetic of the place. 

It wasn’t your favorite location, preferring the clubs that took place on rooftops for fresh air, but this was a job that had to be done. It was all about business anyways.

Manon wore a black halter mini dress in the color black that looked sleek and showed enough skin, just the way Rai preferred her to wear during these meetings. You hated that part because even with the friends-with-benefits dynamic going on, she is still your friend. The men who bought from your boss rarely treated the transaction like it was purely business with you, now could you even imagine how Manon’s transactions would go with those kinds of men?

Your eyes were sharp the moment you walked in, trailing behind her so the customer wouldn’t notice, watching every movement of the client she was meeting. Rai had given you the rundown on this guy. He’s a new possible client and is trying out the product for the first time. Apparently, just a curious rich brat from uptown looking to "feel something real."

Well, you weren’t liking what he was beginning to feel. Although even if this place was one of Rai’s business partners, it was still open to the general public—no moves were made by you.

It started with him leaning in too close, whispering some things to her in her ear as she visibly shudders at the feeling of his breath, and not in a good way. He chuckled too much as he made obscure gestures with his hands.

Then he moved it to her hip, and you watched her shift uncomfortably. Manon gave a visibly forced laugh, eyes flicking up to you as she subtly took a step to the side to try and create some distance between them. The small look wouldn’t have been caught by him, but you noticed.

Your jaw locked as your knuckles twitched into a fist. She gave you the same look that she usually did when she figured a guy was gonna be a problem. So when you see her locking eyes with you, you give her the smallest nod and look over to the back. Manon received it well and knew what she had to do.

She played it perfectly by smiling sweetly, murmuring something about somewhere quieter. He followed, like the idiot you assumed he was. Guys like this were drunk on their own audacity instead of alcohol.

You followed behind them, and one of the club’s bouncers glanced your way, then looked away just as fast. Rai’s reputation was enough to keep people from asking questions. That and the fact that he paid the club well for instances like this.

Once Manon lured him into the narrow hallway near the back storage room, she stopped walking. He turned to face her, a tipsy grin on his face, thinking he was about to get lucky tonight.

That’s when you march past the two of them, grabbing him by the collar in the process as you walk further back.

Before he could get a word out, you slammed him into the wall. His head thudded hard enough to echo.

"Hey! What the—"

Your fist cut him off, a punch landing across his jaw. The second one then hit his nose hard, and it was too quick for him to even react properly. You didn’t stop, and without hesitation, your fists began a vicious beatdown on him. Like every thought about Sophia—the memory of her laugh, the way she looked at you before you kissed her, the sting of her silence after—was fueling each hit.

Blood began coating your knuckles, even staining your arm and the collar of your shirt as he jerked around after each hit. He tried to block it, tried to sputter out some sorrys, but you didn’t care to stop.

"Don’t ever—" You landed another punch. "—touch her—" And another. "—like that again."

It wasn’t even about Manon anymore. It was about every second of that kiss haunting you. The time that passed while pretending it didn’t mean anything when it meant so fucking much.

Eventually, Manon stepped forward, her voice cutting through the haze. "Okay. That’s enough."

You didn’t hear her.

"Hey—hey," she grabbed your wrist, firm but not rough. "It’s done. Come on." You were breathing hard, the man slumped on the floor, face engulfed in swollen flesh, with blood dripping from his nose and mouth. His groans were low, incoherent, and you looked down at your hand, bloodied and trembling slightly, then at Manon.

Her face wasn’t even angry, just worried.

You stayed silent, fists still balled, adrenaline pulsing as she led you through the back exit of the establishment. Manon looked over at you, eyebrows raised. "You good?" You exhaled through your nose, finally letting your muscles relax. "Yeah."

She tilted her head slightly. "You’ve been hitting harder lately."

"Just needed to let something out."

Her eyes lingered on you for a second too long. She knew you well by now and knew that even if someone touched her that way, you wouldn’t beat them almost half to death. This was about something completely different. 

You hated that even now, in the middle of blood and bruises, you still thought about Sophia. Because now, you were beginning to feel dirty when mixing those thoughts. She was too precious in comparison to the lifestyle you lived.

Manon did her best to lead you through the parking lot toward the car without anyone seeing you. If anyone did, they would call the cops at the slightest look at your hand. You willingly get into the driver's seat and start the car even before Manon takes a seat in the passenger seat.

Before moving, you get some baby wipes out of the center console, wiping all the fluid off your hands. Then you move the gear shift and begin reversing out of the spot before driving back to the warehouse.

The ride back was quiet, you had one hand on the wheel, the other still stained with dried blood, wrapped loosely in a towel, Manon kept in the glovebox. She was able to put it on during a red light, seeing your hands looking incredibly swollen as your veins popped through.

She waited a minute before speaking. "You gonna tell me what’s going on or do I have to guess?" You didn’t answer. "You don’t usually go that far… unless something’s seriously eating you." You gritted your teeth. Eyes locked on the road.

"It’s Sophia, isn’t it?"

Your fingers tightened around the steering wheel. She exhaled, not surprised at the name, but surprised at how much the woman affected you. "Did something happen?"

You didn’t say anything again. "Let me guess," she continued. "Something did. And now you’re pretending it didn’t." Your consistent silence was enough confirmation. Manon shifted in her seat to face you better, her voice softer this time.

"You don’t have to tell me the whole story. But whatever it is, bottling it up and using some poor bastard’s face as a punching bag isn’t gonna help."

You finally spoke, barely above a whisper. "I kissed her." Manon looked confused but tried to understand. "Okay."

"And then I left. Didn’t say anything. Haven’t talked to her since." She nodded slowly, processing. "Did she kiss you back?" You hesitated. Then nodded.

"Then why are you running from it like it’s a goddamn plague?"

Your jaw clenched. You didn’t have an answer you liked. "Because it felt like something," you admitted, voice tight. "And I wasn’t ready for that." Manon sighed, leaning back comfortably against the seat. "Life is all about never being ready for things like that, Y/n. You know that better than I do."

The rest of the drive passed in silence again. When you finally pulled into the lot outside the warehouse, Manon reached for the door but stopped.

"You should talk to her. Before it starts eating you alive, please. Miss Sophia may have won you over, but you're still my friend, and I care about you." You barely give her a nod, but she saw it.

“Good. Let me know when you do, because I want to hear all about the woman who was successful enough to have your heart in a bunch.”

She shuts the door, and you now begin sitting back, thinking about Manon’s advice. Seeing her likely was the best course of action, so you decide to face your problems head-on, like you usually do. You were going to talk to her at the party.

On Friday, you took the opportunity to give Rai a heads up, not be able to come in the next. You didn’t even have to tell him anything, you're still young and he knows the way ‘the youngins’ think, his words, not yours.

After work, you went home, just to lie in bed and think about everything that happened. Your thoughts were just a bunch of storms in your head, which almost got you to sleep for the night. But then you heard a loud crash of glass, followed by a woman’s voice yelling at the top of her lungs.

You jumped up immediately, mainly hoping your sister wasn’t anywhere near it since she would be home for the weekend. The second you cracked open your bedroom door, you saw Zaria, your seventeen-year-old sister, standing at the top of the steps, just listening to all the chaos coming from downstairs.

“Hey, why don’t you just wait in the room just in case?” you said gently, because yelling and making her do it wouldn’t help at all. She nodded without a word, already knowing the drill. If your dad saw her, she’d get dragged into it too, and you wanted to avoid that as much as possible.

You waited until her door shut, then crept down the stairs, trying to assess the situation. The crash was your dad falling straight onto the glass coffee table. Now it shattered beneath him, and he was clearly drunk as he lay there limp.

Meanwhile, your mother looked like she was in the middle of having an episode. It probably started as soon as he walked through the front door, triggering something from an old argument.

You rush back up and into their bedroom and grab her medication, your hands moving without even thinking due to muscle memory. When you ran back downstairs, she looked at you with eyes wide and on edge, but you gave her the softest smile you could manage.

“Mom, it’s time for your medicine, okay?”

At first, she shook her head no furiously, backing away slightly, but you’d been through this before. It was exhaustion and fear that made her uncooperative. In a gentle voice, you tell her, “Once you take these, you can go to bed. I’ll deal with Dad.”

You held out the pills in the palm of your hand, and after a long moment, she finally nodded.

“Alright,” she murmured, taking them and washing them down with water from the cup on the counter. Like a switch flipped in her head, she turned and headed upstairs, her movements a little shaky but steady enough.

You followed the walk under the archway that separated the kitchen from the living room and stood there, just staring at your father. Laid out across broken glass, out cold and acting like his useless self. At least there wouldn’t be yelling or any violence tonight. You sighed, rolled up your sleeves, and began fixing what you could.

It took all your strength to lift his heavy body and dump him onto the couch. He groaned at his landing, but you ignored it. Your only priority was to clean up the mess he made because it was going to be an eyesore.

You headed to a storage closet and pulled out a clear plastic trash bag. It was one of the unused ones for recycling plastic and metal. You picked up the larger shards of glass by hand, moving carefully, then grabbed the broom to sweep up the rest from the wooden floor.

You made a mental note to remind your mom and Zaria to wear slippers around the house until you could mop and vacuum again—just in case. After tossing the shards into the recycling bin outside, you finally trudged back upstairs and lay down, eyes wide open, trying your best to just breathe. 

You guessed it was enough to go to bed, because the next morning, you woke up abruptly from the sound of a large truck honking past your house.

Before realizing how much time had passed, you’d already taken a long shower, just relaxing your tense body against the hot water. You did some light makeup, mostly to cover the remnants of past fights still on your skin. The coverage is just enough to make you look more lively. Then you changed into something comfy but stylish enough not to look like your normal plain self.

Your phone buzzed just as you were tying your shoes.

Sophia see u there *location pin dropped*

You blinked at the message, no “hey,” or “r u still coming?” Her playful emojis weren’t there, causing the nerves to rack up as you stared at the address. Tapping on the pin she sent, you realize the party was happening just a few blocks from her place. You should’ve guessed that was the case since her friends are theeeeee rich girls on campus.

At least it’s a route you've come to be familiar with.

You walked down the warehouse to text Rai about borrowing a car again. Luckily, this man never cared due to the number of cars he owned, because he just gave you a thumbs up as a response. You chose the BMW you had used previously, and forty minutes later, you were pulling into the neighborhood, as you looked for the right house. You didn’t have to look hard, though.

Cars were already lined up along the front entrance of a house and even into the spacious lawn. Everyone parked like they were playing Tetris, and you knew it was going to be a pain to leave your spot, so you opted for a spot outside of the gate. Music was vibrating faintly through the pavement from the outside of the house. You then rolled up the windows all the way before parking, trying to psych yourself up while your stomach rolled with nerves.

The house itself reminded you of a modern version of Sophia’s home with the white, grey, and black colors spanning across the exterior of the house. Seemed like a rentable Airbnb for parties like this, but you could only assume this was actually Lara’s home.

A guard stood by the front door… of course, there was a guard. He didn’t move at first, just stared you down until you got closer. Then he glanced at his clipboard. “Name?”

You almost laughed, the moment feeling ridiculous like you were on a job at one of those nightclubs. But you said your name anyway, half-expecting to be turned away because this just wasn’t your kind of scene.

The parties you were used to were the ones at Rai’s warehouse, when all coworkers would become friends for the night.

Instead of being turned away, he gave a short nod and stepped aside. “You’re on the list.”

Of course you were. Sophia probably pulled some strings on that list. When stepping inside, immediately hit by the overwhelming bass of the loud music, scents of perfume, sweat, and weed mixing in the air. People were going in every direction, some teens doing shots in their little corner, guys doing way too much on the dance floor, and girls holding up their phones under the colorful lights to get the perfect angle for their stories. 

You had to blink a few times to adjust to everything happening.

Your job is probably much more chaotic, but it isn’t chaotic fun like this. This was much more anxiety-inducing than you expected. You took one step forward, and even before you could make any sensible movement, “Holy shit.” A blur of movement, as someone bumped into you, then paused. Sophia told you a bit about her friends for you to be able to recognize the younger girl, Megan.

Her wide eyes flicked over your face, a grin stretching across her lips. “Wait. Wait, Y/n?” You gave a half-smile. “Yeah.”

“I haven’t seen you for some time, Dani looks a bit lonely surrounded by all the dance majors,” she joked, nudging your shoulder lightly. “You clean up nice.”

“Thanks,” you said, chuckling once under your breath. She glanced around, then leaned in a bit. “Looking for Sophia?” You hesitated. “Sort of. But a drink would be nice first.”

“Kitchen’s through there,” she pointed down a hallway to your left. “Fridge is stocked with beers, seltzers, and everything.”

“Noted,” you nodded, already making your way through the crowd. You weave between people like until you reach the kitchen, which was still full, but not as packed as the main room. At least it had lighting that didn’t make you feel like you were in a music video. You tugged the fridge open, eyes skimming past lines of beers and hard seltzers.

None were for your taste, not exactly a big fan of the strong liquors. Then, rows of Buzzballs were near the bottom shelf. You grabbed one instantly, flipping the small blue ball-shaped can in your hand. Better than whatever beer and other options were in there. It was at least sweet to cut through the alcohol.

You cracked it open, letting the fizz rise, then took a long sip. It was helping the heavy feeling on your chest relieve itself, even if it was still there. You then begin looking around, realizing that somewhere in the crowd was the woman you came here for.

Sophia wasn’t the type to check her phone obsessively. At least, not until this past week.

When she sent you the text a few hours ago, she caught herself unlocking the screen just to stare at the “read” receipt under her last message, and she hated the feeling. Sophia Laforteza wasn’t someone who got nervous; if anything, she was headstrong.

But when she saw the little “read at 7:09 PM,” she clutched her cranberry vodka a little tighter. School should’ve been normal, she literally only met you recently. Yet every class was a blur, the corridors felt much emptier, and even her friends couldn’t get her out of the rut she was in. Sophia wasn’t able to focus on anything properly, and Miss Perfect was showing signs of cracking because of you.

Lara and Yoonchae were in their own little world beside her, laughing at something stupid, and for a second, Sophia managed a ghost of a smile. Then Megan appeared out of nowhere, swinging her drink around with so much energy as she leaned in.

“Guess who I just saw,” she grinned, her voice practically teasing. Lara was the first to bite. “Oh no. Who?” Megan swirled the cup, teasing the girls a bit. “Y/n.”

Sophia blinked, confused for a second until it hit her. Her heart did that annoying skip it always did when it came to you, and her eyes darted to Megan like they needed confirmation. “You saw her?” she asked, way too quickly.

Megan nodded, grinning widely. “She went to the kitchen and grabbed a Buzzball. Looked hot, by the way.”

Sophia couldn’t breathe for a second until Lara nudged her gently. Yoonchae, all sweet and too observant when it comes to the older, smiled knowingly. “I think someone’s happy.”

“I’m—” Sophia tried to speak, but her throat felt dry. She took another sip from her red solo cup, but it didn’t help.

What if you were just there for the party? To let loose, escape your job for the night. Meanwhile, you had just finished chugging the last of your first Buzzball, wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. Your shoulders are now less tense, making the haze of bodies and loud music less suffocating.

You reached back into the fridge and grabbed another. If you were gonna do this tonight, you needed all the liquid courage you could get. You popped it open and muttered to yourself, “Alright. You can do this. No big deal. Just a conversation.”

Just a conversation with the girl you kissed. Who hadn’t texted you anything else all week… Yeah, just a conversation. 

You stepped back into the crowd, scanning. Eyes weaving past couples who were grinding and suckin each other's faces off, people playing drinking games, someone hesitantly trying to do a backflip while people cushioned him. But then, just past the ‘dance floor,’ you saw her.

Sophia was in black jeans and a sleeveless cropped hoodie, holding a red cup while her hair was styled in that effortless, slightly messy ponytail that made your heart quicken because she looked that good without trying.

She looked up and saw you.

Just her eyes locking with yours, widening just a bit. Her eyes were so hopeful, and you could feel it from across the room. So you started walking before you could overthink anything. When you reached her, you didn’t waste time pretending, just blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

“Hey,” you said. “Can we talk? Somewhere quieter.”

Her voice caught a little, but she nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.” She grabbed your hand lightly, barely even touching you, and led you upstairs. You kept your eyes forward while she didn’t even look back, but her grip on your hand was telling enough.

Past the noise, the crowds of people, she opened a door to what looked like a spare bedroom. Unused with lights that were dim… a little moody actually, and once she stepped inside with you, she turned the lock behind her.

There wasn’t complete silence, but neither of you had spoken up yet. The bass of the music still vibrated through the floorboards, muffling everyone who yelled over the music. You could kind of hear her exhale. Hear the sounds of your drinks as you both sipped at the same time, nerves kicking all over again.

She stood near the dresser while you hovered near the edge of the bed. Neither of you moved an inch, but you wanted to get this over with. Manon was right, you were going to face the problem and end it, so you wouldn’t go crazy.

“I didn’t come here for the party,” you said, finally meeting her eyes. Sophia’s fingers tightened a bit around her cup. “I mean, technically I did,” you added. “But not for this party. I didn’t even plan on drinking.” You glanced at your half-empty Buzzball. “Clearly that didn’t last.”

A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips, but it faded quickly. “I came because of you,” you continued, heart pounding against your chest as you finally let out those words. “Because I’ve been trying not to think about that night. But that’s... not really working out for me.”

Sophia’s lips parted slightly, her breath shallow. She looked like she wanted to interrupt, but she held back her tongue, wanting to hear what you had to say for yourself. “I didn’t know if it meant something to you. I didn’t even know what it meant to me at first. But I keep replaying it in my head several times a day. And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since—even with you right in front of me.”

You laughed a bit, sounding dry and nervous. “I guess I just... needed to know if I was the only one feeling that way.”

Sophia finally moved then, stepping a little closer. Her eyes searched your face like she was making sure this was all reality and not her dreams. “You’re not,” she whispered just loud enough for you to hear.

And for a second, the tension grew stronger as she came a bit closer to you. She placed her cup down on the dresser, then reached out, brushing her fingers against yours.

“You left,” she said. “After that night, I waited every day for something. Anything even, because I thought I did something wrong.”

“I was scared,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “You make me nervous.” 

“Good,” she murmured, stepping even closer. “You drive me crazy, you know.”

And just like that, there wasn’t much distance between the two of you anymore. It felt nice, seeing that you were getting somewhere, but your heart did feel like it was about to burst with how fast it was going.

Whatever happened next might be the liquor doing its thing, but neither of you seemed to really care. Drunk thoughts are real thoughts, right? Not that you were drunk, but the Buzzball was definitely helping this go smoothly.

Sophia’s breath hitched when your fingers brushed over hers. Her voice came out a bit louder than the first time she spoke. “You make me nervous, too.”

The confession made your chest feel tight and your skin feel too warm. You tilted your head at her, letting your hand slowly turn to lace fingers with hers. “Good,” you murmured, echoing her from earlier. “Then we’re even.”

There was a flicker in her eyes in some amusement, even maybe some disbelief. Her hand squeezed yours like she needed to make sure this was happening, that you were here, saying this, standing in this room with her, not just rushing out and disappearing again. The space between you started to shorten.

Then her eyes dropped to your lips, and back to your eyes, which could only make you feel giddy. ‘What the hell was even happening at this point?’

Sophia stepped forward, and her body was warm. You could feel the heat of her skin even with clothes still separating you. Her hand moved to your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheek like she was trying to memorize your face by touch.

And then, this time, she leaned in and kissed you. This kiss wasn’t as soft as the first one; you felt that she wanted to make it worth it. After what she went through, well, what both of you went through this week, you owed it to yourselves.

You kissed her back roughly and didn't want to let her go as your hands found the sides of her waist and pulled her closer and closer, like it still wasn’t enough. Sophia moaned against your mouth, and something about the sound made you feel dizzy.

She broke the kiss only to speak against your lips, voice husky and uneven. “I thought about this. Ever since I started to get to know the real you.” You swallowed hard, forehead leaning into hers. “Yeah?”

She nodded, her hands sliding around the back of your neck, fingers playing with the hair at your nape. “The way you kissed me that night.”

You let out a shaky breath, pressing your body flush against hers until she backed into the edge of the dresser with her cup on it. Her hands tightened around you as her back hit the wood.

“I’ve thought about you, too.” You kissed her again, harder this time, teeth just slightly catching her bottom lip. Her nails grazed your shoulders through your clothes, and her breath hitched again.

The buildup of tension, frustration, and longing seemed to be catching up as you wanted more of her. You slowly trailed your lips to her jaw, then down to the hollow of her neck, where her skin was already warm. She gasped softly, tilting her head back against the wall. You took your time there, letting your lips graze just enough.

“Screw it,” Sophia whispered breathlessly, her voice ragged. The grin that pulled at your lips was confident. Now this was what you were known to do, but it was different. It was with someone you genuinely liked this time.

You grabbed her by the hips, lifting her onto the dresser effortlessly. She gasped again at the motion, legs parting subconsciously to make space for you between them. Her hands rested on your shoulders, and you could feel them twitching to restrain herself.

Your lips met hers again, much more heated, as one of her hands tangled in your silky hair and the other gripped your shirt like she was holding on for dear life. You let your hand travel up the outside of her thigh, tracing over the denim seam of her jeans, and felt her shiver beneath you.

Sophia’s head tilted to the side, her lips brushing over your jaw. “If you’re trying to drive me insane, congratulations,” she muttered. You chuckled low in your throat, letting your thumb slide just under the hem of her top, grazing the bare skin of her waist. “I haven’t even started yet, and you're already needy.”

She looked down at you then, breathless, eyes heavy, lips red and swollen from kissing. “Then what are you waiting for?”

That was the breaking point. You crashed your lips onto hers again with a groan, hands gripping her thighs as you pressed into her, both needing it right now.

"Can I?" you asked, voice husky, while Sophia looked messy, but she still looked gorgeous in your eyes. She nodded, but you paused with hands on her waist, "Words, baby. I need words."

As you spoke to her, she felt herself being lifted and wrapped her legs around your waist, tight as you settled her onto the large bed.

"You can," your gaze softened, lifting her arms to help her remove the cropped shirt. But there was a shift in your eyes, they darkened as you roamed over her exposed skin, taking in her tan figure that was only covered by a red lacey bra.

Now you weren’t expecting to see such a risque look, but you definitely weren’t going to ruin the moment by saying anything. "Beautiful," you whispered, fingers tracing the curve of her waist. "I can finally show you how much I need you."

You leaned in, pressing your lips on her exposed collarbone, then lower, following the lines of her abs with your mouth. She gave under your touch, the way your lips felt on her just had her melting, wanting to surrender to you completely.

"We can go as slow as you need," you mumbled against her skin, but Sophia seemed to have other plans. "I don't want slow," she admitted, pulling you closer. "I want you."

There was now a smile on your swollen lips—not a playful grin, but something much dirtier. "Then lie back on the bed and let me take care of you."

She complied, watching as you leaned back further to pull your own shirt over your head, revealing more of your tattoos scattered across your ribs and shoulders. Now crawling back onto the bed after throwing your shirt somewhere in the room, you straddle her with a confidence that made her groan at the sight of you on top of her.

"You're so fucking gorgeous," you said, leaning down to kiss her again. "I can't believe you're mine for tonight."

Your words had her shudder a bit as your hands tugged on the waistband of her jeans. Slowly, you unbutton and unzip them to undress her completely, pausing to appreciate her entire body with both your eyes and mouth. "Fucking hell," you quietly sighed as your eyes didn’t stop trailing all over her body. You lick your lips at the sight of her perky breasts.

"Tell me what you want, baby," you whispered with urgency, your breath growing heavier. "Tell me what you need." 

"You," she spat, much more controlling than intended. "Everything. Your hands. Your mouth." You smiled against her skin, "So demanding."

Your lips trailed down her body, every kiss placed softly with intention. The feeling of your fingers exploring her hips had her body feeling on fire. You would caress over every curve until you made your way to her thighs, and she gasped at the touch.

You were on her inner thighs and gave them a kiss before shifting down your entire body. Arms hook under her legs, and she feels your firm hands grip her around the thighs. You didn't even need to do much, and she already felt her core aching, "God, Y/n," she hums lowly.

"Does that feel nice?" you asked, voice breathy and teasing as your fingers traced patterns on her inner thigh. "You like it when I touch you here?"

"Yes," she whined, not even noticing how she squirmed at the feeling. "How about here?" Your fingers inched higher, feeling your fingers right beside her pussy. She whimpers again at the feeling, not being able to trust a word to come out of her mouth.

You laughed softly, "I'll take that as a yes." Mouth replacing your fingers, giving little kisses until you got to her cunt. She sighs at first, your actions having her body relax into the bed. That was until she felt your tongue flick her clit, her body jolting in shock and a sudden moan came out.

She feels you smile as you sucked on her pussy again, "god if I knew how good you tasted, I would've done this a lot sooner instead of thinking so hard."

"Can you shut up a-" she was about to say, but you cut her off as you lick a long strip up her wet core, making her groan. "You're not in control right now, baby. I am."

She feels your tongue go in, and she almost shrieks at the feeling, covering her mouth with both hands. Not even a second on her lips, your hand lifted them off her face. "I wanna hear you," you hummed against her, sending vibrations all over her body, and relentless moaning came about.

"Fuck, Y/n. Feels too good," her breath hitched at the pleasure as she feels her body heating up, sweat beginning to cling to her skin. Her hands found your hair, needing something to anchor herself. You then moved your mouth away, the cold air grazing her wet core.

She looks down, about to complain about the lonesome feeling, until she sees you. Gosh, you looked sexy, gaze droopy as your mouth glistened, covered in her own juices. "I'm not done yet, baby. Don't worry," you said as you felt her tensing at the emptiness.

Your hands went to her pussy, rubbing slow circles around and she can't help but lean her head back. "Shit," she moans, it was slow but it had her throbbing. "You look so good like this under me, Fia," you grunted, and she feels your fingers tease her entrance.

Slowly, you pushed in a finger, and she arched her body up, while feeling the pumping in and out. She crumbles when she hears you speak, "Look at you reacting so well to my fingers." She whimpers as you took your other thumb, rubbing her clit at the same time.

"Y/n," she gasped your name. "More baby, please," she whines, and you sit yourself up a bit. Hands make their way up to her breast, fondling her hard nipples. "How pretty these are," you mumbled, then dove down. Your mouth latched onto them, tongue playing as they flickered while being coated in your saliva. She moaned, wanting more than this.

"Faster, please," she calls out and when looking down, your eyes stuck on her as she sees your lips curving upward despite the continuous sucking. You come up to her mouth, smashing your lips against her. She feels your pace quicken between her legs as she tries to moan, but it was muffled by your needy kiss.

Your fingers slipped in and out, her wetness helping with the quickened pace. "Feel how wet you are for me?" You mumbled against her lips, and she couldn't help but just kiss back in response as her brows furrowed.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Y/n," she begs, shifting her head to the side, the feeling becoming more overwhelming for her to resist. You knew exactly what that meant, moving back down to her pussy. Mouth returning to your spot, tongue sinking back into her core, tongue fucking her until she chokes up a moan. 

"This wet cunt, just for me, hm?" You hummed against her, the vibration adding another layer of sensation. "I've got you," you promised, two fingers joining her mouth in a rhythm that quickly had her cumming.

"Shit, Y/n," she came as your steady hands hold her while she trembled. Before she could fully recover, you moved up her body, capturing her mouth in a kiss that let Sophia taste herself on your lips.

Your eyes fix all over her face, a bit worried, “Feeling okay?” Sophia giggles at the newfound concern you have for her, finding it cute. “I’m more than okay,” she hears a sigh of relief as you lie down next to her, and she feels warm as you wrap an arm around her naked figure.

“What does this mean for us?” Sophia spoke up, unsure if that’s what she should’ve asked after the time you just spent together. You look at her as she stares at the dim ceiling, wanting to tell her the truth.

“I… I want this to be real. But my life is just completely different from yours, Sophia.”

You told her honestly, which made her turn towards you, shaking her head. You stop her from saying anything, “Involving you in my life could be dangerous for you.”

“Then teach me to fend for myself, trust me. Protect me, Y/n,” she told you with authority in her voice. You were slightly taken aback by her passion, but smiled at how badly she wanted this, just as much as you.

“Fine. I’ll do everything in my power, blood, sweat, and tears to make us work,” Sophia smiles at your words. Giving you another kiss before pulling away and just leaning on your frame, head resting on your chest.

“Can we stay like this for now?” She murmurs, and you nod, complying as both arms now wrap around her body, wanting this moment to never end.

“SO WHEN WERE YOU GONNA TELL US ALL OF THIS?” Lara yells a week later, sitting in the common room area of the building, as Sophia gives her friends the rundown of what happened at the party.

“I just wanted to see where this would all go before I told you guys, okay?” She confesses, gaze drifting toward you as you sat with Daniella again across the room. You laugh about Dani’s mom making fun of her again, which causes you to find Sophia’s eyes.

Smiling at her, you wave as her face goes bright pink. Since that night, you have been making an incredible effort for Sophia. Instead of focusing on your job, you had asked Rai to free up your schedule more. The excuse was that the semester was coming to an end and many exams would be approaching, not want to use Sophia just in case he would say no.

After the party, you had been in school every single day, sitting next to Sophia during classes you shared with her, sharing notes with each other, even bringing her mango juice you would buy every morning before school.

Life seemed to be heading in the right direction for you as well. You were extremely close to buying a good apartment that fit you, Zaria, and your mom with the money you had been saving for the past year.

Thankfully, Rai paid you well, and it wouldn’t take much longer. 

Wednesday night, you even visited the warehouse to report that a client handing over their payment properly, and told Manon about what happened on Saturday. You didn’t go into detail about it, feeling it would be a bit weird to explain how you slept with Sophia… with a person you had slept with in the past.

She was genuinely happy for you, joking a bit, “Well, now that you're off the market, can you introduce me to that Daniella friend of yours?” You nudged her arm and laughed, then talked more about how you felt about Sophia. Manon clearly saw how smitten you are with the Filipina.

She was also a girl’s girl and respected what was happening, so she wasn’t planning on pushing anymore boundaries.

On Thursday, you went over to Sophia’s house, and while spending time with her as she cuddled against your chest, you had told her everything about your life that you possibly could in that moment.

Your job, who you worked for, your situation at home, how you planned on moving out, Daniella being a childhood best friend of yours, and, yes, even about Manon. She stared up at you as you explained each thing, carefully listening to each topic. Sophia didn’t care so much about Manon after learning how emotionally unavailable you were with each other.

It also did help that she was asking soooo many questions about your feelings for her. She would ask when you first started liking her, what kinds of dates you would take her on, and how you would protect her at any moment. Each answer made her heart swell even more for you.

Now the two of you were in school on Friday, and Sophia now had to deal with her friends bombarding her about everything.

“How was it?” Megan asked excitedly as Lara calmed down in her seat. “It was amazing-”

“Are the two of you together now?” Lara butted in, leaning closer to Sophia as the older answered, “Not yet but we’re working on it.”

Megan and Lara were about to ask something again, but Yoonchae beat them both to it first. “Are you happy?”

Now that was a legitimate question that actually made the older smile, just nodding as she kept her head down, a bit embarrassed. Lara and Megan squeal at the reaction while Yoonchae sways in a rhythm, happy that Sophia wasn’t worrying about only being perfect in school anymore.

She now had to think about her feelings for you. If she loved you, when she had to worry about you, the memories she was going to make with you. They were all feelings that made love real and a beautiful thing.

Sophia wouldn’t jump the fence and say she did it out of right love for you, but she was sure that the feeling was close. Because, despite finding the roughed up version of you all hot, she was pleased to see you less hurt in the past few days and just healing up.

“Fia?” She heard to her left, and she looked up to find you. You had this goofy grin on your face, and all she wanted to do was squeeze your cheeks. “Ready for our next class?”

Sophia nodded and got up, collecting her belongings in the process as her friends watched the two of them. You held her hand and waved at her friends, while Sophia told them she’ll be going and how she’ll text them later tonight. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Lara tells the two, and you chuckle as Sophia walks with her head down while you whisk her away to your last class.

Like the past couple of days, you sat down right beside her once you entered the classroom, getting comfortable as you got out your trusty notebook.

“Should we run lines tonight?” You whispered in her ear, and Sophia shuddered at the feeling. “Yeah, my place right after this?” You nodded as you gave her a small peck on the side of your forehead, making her smile like a high schooler who talked to their crush for the first time.

The class was pretty boring, you and Sophia focusing on taking down notes like the studious students you are. The hour passed by quickly, the professor already dismissing everyone and reminding them about the dates of their exams the following week.

Sophia dragged you to the entrance of the school, waving off the attention of random people trying to greet her, only glancing back to make sure you were keeping up before heading toward the parking lot. 

Luckily, her driver was already in front with the big black SUV, standing at the back passenger side like always. Loid, her driver, was dressed in his usual tuxedo and stayed quiet while giving you a polite nod as he opened the door for you both.

“Hey, Loid,” you greeted him with a small smile, sliding into the backseat after Sophia.

He bowed slightly. “Miss L/n.”

The car was comfortable, like usual, since you had been going to Sophia’s place time to time after school. The leather is light brown, the temperature is cool inside, and both of you stayed quiet, just soaking in the silence of the drive after the tons of yapping each professor did in school today.

Your hand found hers instinctively, and Sophia glanced at you, then down at your intertwined hands. Instead of saying anything, she just smiled softly to herself, eyes flicking back out the window. Without warning, Sophia pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek and rested her head on your shoulder.

You tried to play it cool, not wanting her to see the way your cheeks were heating up or how much you suddenly couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot. You were kind of obsessed with her at this point. And the fact that she hadn’t let go of your hand the whole ride only made you feel all warm inside.

By the time the car pulled up to her house, you had to mentally shake yourself out of your lovesick brain. The school play was already on Monday, and the two of you had to focus and make sure everything was perfect.

Because let’s be real, even when you called Sophia Miss Perfect, you were as well when it came to school, if you removed the fact that you didn’t show up much.

You played Aria, the daughter of a harsh politician, while Sophia played Gina, a girl from a poor family. Think Romeo and Juliet, but make it sapphic and kind of switching your roles in real life.

Gina and Aria weren’t supposed to love each other, and they weren’t even supposed to meet.

But of course, fate would do the exact opposite to them… and of course it ended badly.

You both went into Sophia’s room without saying much, the comfort between you two becoming natural now. She handed you a printed script with notes scribbled in pink pen, then plopped on the edge of her bed with her own marked-up copy that had purple ink instead of pink. The sunset streamed through her window, casting an orange hue on the white walls and floors of the room.

You ran through scenes quickly at first, blocking, line emphasis, and pacing. Sometimes she’d accidentally mix up her lines or stare at you for a little too long and get distracted, but it wasn’t like you were any better. You weren’t exactly immune to her entire existence, and the way she acted almost had you in awe.

Just almost, though, because you also had a slightly massive ego when it came to your own acting, but you wouldn’t even admit that to yourself. Things stayed lighthearted until the final scene.

You barely had to flip to the last page to know the dreaded ending came next. The final confrontation at the pier between Gina and Aria. You, standing behind her, acted torn between staying and finally choosing the life her family expected of her.

Sophia cleared her throat, sitting up straighter while you followed her actions, adjusting yourself because of how serious this was about to be. Sophia then said her lines, “If love is a curse, then I guess I was damned the second I met you.”

Her voice wavered slightly, but she did her best to keep going. “You’ve made my life so much better. Made me feel strong through everything that I was going though.”

You stepped forward slowly, moving according to the light blocking your scripts had assigned, and said your own lines. “Gina… I won't ever stop loving you. This is just the only way to keep you safe, away from my father.”

Sophia’s eyes flicked up at you, already glassy, the scene hitting harder than she expected, even if you two were the ones who wrote it. Her lower lip quivered, but her voice stayed strong.  “Then you might as well kill me. Because I’ll never feel safe without you.”

You exhaled slowly, stepping closer, watching her eyes closely as you delivered the final blow. “This is it for us, Gina. I’m sorry.”

That was the line that shattered her. Sophia’s breath hitched as a tear slipped down her cheek. Then another and another as tears just kept falling. Her chest rose and fell like she wasn’t getting air fast enough. 

“Fia,” you said softly, script falling to your side as you set it down on the bed. She sniffled, eyes squeezing shut for a second before she wiped at them quickly. You take a step toward her, reaching out for her hand. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she whispered, but the way her voice broke at the end said otherwise. “No, that was… honestly? That was incredible.” You swept away one of the tears, giving her a soft, crooked smile. “You just made me emotional with a line I’ve heard fifty times.”

Sophia laughed wetly, leaning into your palm, her body finally relaxing as she let her shoulders drop. “It’s just… I don’t know. Something about it hit harder this time.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re too good at this,” you teased lightly, trying to ease her emotions. “You practically made me forget we’re not actually Aria and Gina.”

You didn’t say anything at first to let her calm down, then you smiled once she stopped hitching her breath and leaned in. “Want to run it one more time?” you whispered. Sophia shook her head.

“No,” she whispered, pulling you a little closer. “I want something else.” She kissed you slowly as your lips helped her calm down. You wrapped your hand around her nape, softly caressing her as you moved back a bit. “We’re gonna do great, so we won't have to act that or more times than we have to.”

That actually made her laugh, and you guys decided that it was enough practice until the day of the pay. The weekend passed by quickly with the help of errands and cash drops for Rai. Surprisingly, there wasn’t any violence, and it was honestly manageable, calm for two days.

But Monday rolled around much more quickly because of that. By the time you got to school that morning, you were practically glued to Sophia’s side like a lost puppy. The nerves were kind of getting to you, not knowing what to expect during that period of class, and yet you weren’t scared. Sophia made you feel ready for what’s to come.

That comfort lasted until your playwriting professor walked in, a clipboard in hand and a too-early smile on his face.

"Alright, we’re on the fifth play today," he announced to the room, already eyeing the two of you. "Which means... Miss Lafoerteza and Miss Y/L/N, you’re up."

You felt Sophia go stiff beside you, then squeezed her hand for a bit of comfort. He continued, “Head backstage. We’ll give you five to get settled before curtain.”

You both stood up, her fingers briefly grazing yours before she tucked her script against her chest. The class watched you two shuffle toward the back with way too much interest in comparison to the previous plays for some reason. I mean, it was likely because of Sophia and her being popular.

Backstage, Sophia was already pacing in small circles, whispering lines under her breath so they would be stuck in her brain. You reached for her hand gently, “Hey.”

She turned, eyes wide, lips parted slightly. “You’re gonna kill it,” you said, squeezing her hand. “We’re gonna kill it. You know this. You could even do this in your sleep.” Her shoulders dropped slightly, but she was still tense.

“Sophia, look at me,” you said.

When she did, you gave her a soft smile and leaned in, wrapping your arms around her in a long hug, and you felt her heart slow down against your chest. She melted into it after a second, exhaling every nerve she felt out of her body.

Then, from the front of the curtain, you heard your professor shout, “On my count — five, four...!”

The show finally began with everyone else having printed out scripts to follow along. Like you said, everything moved smoothly once you were on stage. The lights were hot as they blasted both of your bodies, the silence from the audience was a bit eerie, and somehow every line sounded better while standing on stage. You barely had to act at certain points. The story of Aria and Gina hits a bit close to home for the two of you.

And then came the ending. You swallowed thickly as you stepped forward, the final lines leaving your mouth as your voice cracked just enough to sting.

“This is it for us, Gina. I’m sorry.” You didn’t even realize you were crying until your line finished and your vision blurred. As the script had directed, you turned and went behind the curtains, and once you hit backstage, you wiped the tears off your face in frantic swipes.

Meanwhile, Sophia stayed on stage as planned. She stood there, center spotlight, with her expression wrecked, even in its silence. She stayed in character until the very end, even when she became shocked at the sight of tears rolling down your face for the first time.

Then the lights dropped and the class erupted in applause, even the professor too. She had barely made it back behind the curtain when he called both of you back out. “Miss Y/L/N, Miss Lafoerteza — stay a moment,” he said, staying seated behind the table with his clipboard and the most pleased expression you’d ever seen on his face.

“I have to say,” he continued, looking between the two of you, “this might be the most powerful performance I’ve seen for this project in years. Well-written characters. A plot with a lot of angst. Dialogue that hurt.”

The class nodded in agreement, still clapping. “And based on your script, commitment, and the full delivery of the story…” he paused, then smiling, “I’m giving both of you an A. No notes.”

You turned to Sophia, heart still pounding, and pulled her into a hug before anything else could happen. She was crying again from how much pressure she’d been holding in all month until now. Her arms wrapped around you tightly, face pressed against your chest, and you smiled through your own exhausted breath.

You pulled her backstage after the Professor told the next pair to prepare. Leaning back just slightly to cup her cheeks as her arms were wrapped around you, and kissed her softly. When you pulled back, her smile finally peeked through her tears. “We did it,” she whispered.

You laughed. “Yeah. We really did.” She sniffled, her makeup slightly smudged, and you grabbed the corner of your sleeve to gently pat under her eyes. “Don’t worry,” you murmured. “You still look perfect.”

She bit her lip at that, eyes fluttering a bit because of your touch. Then, before you could overthink it, you looked her dead in the eyes and asked, quietly, “Sophia… will you be my girlfriend?”

For a moment, her face went still. Then the smallest smile crept across her lips, one that slowly grew wider as her eyes looked glossier than normal.

“Yes,” she said softly. “Of course I will.”

[floralcyanide]

― 𝐛𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞 (𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲)

request: car sex with carmy you and Carmy come back together, physically and romantically.

↝ pairing: Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Fem!Reader

↝ warnings: smut (mdni!), unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), car sex, semi-public sex, nipple play, mentions of alcohol, drinking, smoking, past relationship, exes to lovers, language

↝ word count: ~2.8k

↝ author's note: I finally got the urge to write and actually put forth the effort to write, and I think this is my best fic in a while lol. I hope ya'll enjoy this, I enjoyed writing it.

based on Be Quiet and Drive (Far Away) by Deftones

masterlist ⋇ divider credit: @cafekitsune

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛ��ɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

“This town don’t feel mine. I’m fast to get away.”

Carmy usually despises parties.

But Claire begged Carmy to join her at her best friend’s party, and of course, he said yes. He’d do anything for Claire, really. Even if it meant he had to deal with people from high school who definitely didn’t remember him, loud music, and rowdy drunkards- it didn’t really matter whether Carmy cared or not. He’d even do something like this for you, even though you also weren’t a major fan of parties. But Carmy tries not to think about you right now. It’s one major reason why he was with Claire to begin with. He couldn’t have you. It’s silly, Carmy thinks, and also kind of fucked, but he was tired of being lonely all the time. 

Carmy stands in the corner, nursing a cup of beer that he’s barely drunk and doesn’t plan on finishing, watching as Claire comforts her best friend on the couch. A few people wave or smile at him, and he returns the favor, but he isn’t really into the gathering like everyone else. If Carmy is honest, he’d rather be at home right now. Claire’s best friend hurriedly gets up to take a phone call- probably from her ex- much to Claire’s dismay. But she doesn’t have a moment to get up to go after her or even sit back down on the couch fully before a random guy approaches her. Carmy furrows his eyebrows, watching the conversation carefully and with close attention. It’s the only interesting thing that has happened at this party so far. 

A few moments pass without anything remotely going on between Claire and the rando. She hasn’t even so much as glanced back at Carmy, who is watching the two of them like a hawk. Claire seems to know who this person is, so she doesn’t shy away. The guy leans in to whisper something in her ear, and she laughs, but he doesn’t pull away from her. In fact, he lingers and presses a kiss to the spot behind her ear. Claire doesn’t seem to be negatively phased by it either, and Carmy feels ice in his bones. So much for trying something with Claire after all these years. Perhaps she knew Carmy's true intentions. But still, he can’t ignore the sting of hurt he feels in his chest. No matter how much he tries to down the disgusting beer in an attempt to numb himself fully, to no avail. He even wanders to the kitchen, where the harder stuff is, pouring something clear and strong into the red solo cup he had, right to the brim. Carmy chugs it with a wince before going outside for a smoke. It seems to have worked a little to calm his racing thoughts. He’s seated on the stoop, fishing out his pack of cigarettes, when a memory of you crosses his mind. A memory of you kissing him behind his ear just like that guy kissed Claire. 

You. Carmy inhales deeply, allowing a ribbon of smoke to escape his lips as he tries to push his hurt and anger aside. He pulls out his phone.

Can you do me a favor?

He stares at the screen, waiting for you to reply to his text. It’s quite late now, but Carmy knows you’ll likely be awake. 

What’s up?

Carmy’s heart picks up at your fast response.

Can you come get me from this address? I’ll explain when you get here.

Carmy can already see the confused look you’re going to give him when you pull up to the house to see a party going on, and him be there. But stranger things have happened. Things like you and Carmy almost working out at one time. 

Sure. See you in a few.

Carmy had left for New York City, ultimately leaving you behind in Chicago. It had hurt him to do that to you, but it was for the best at the time. You took it hard but knew Carmy had to leave the city. So, you moved on. But no other person you had dated or tried dating was like Carmy. You looked for him in every person, every dish, every place you’d go. Whether it was the park or the grocery store, you found yourself subconsciously searching for Carmy there. Until one day, you found him. It wasn’t long after the news broke that Michael had passed. You still frequented The Beef quite often, as you had grown up with the Berzattos throughout school and remained friends with them in adulthood. You walked in and saw Carmy floundering in the back, yelling out orders and looking like the embodiment of stress. He had stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted you in the doorway. You reconnected with a cup of coffee, caught up, and, after a few months of casual texting, are now okay friends. It’s described as okay because, well, you wish it were more. But you have restrained yourself from talking about relationship stuff with Carmy, and he has taken that as you not being interested. Which isn’t true, but he doesn’t know that. He has always thought you were too good for him, anyway.

Carmy is finishing up the cigarette when you pull up. Claire has yet to make an appearance, and Carmy figures she’s busy with that guy. How disappointing. He puts out the cigarette with his foot as he stands up on the stoop, jogging over to your passenger side door. You give him a funny look as Carmy opens the door, just as he had expected you to. He sighs without a word- he’ll explain later.

“Any place in particular you wanna go?” you ask, automatically assuming it’s best not to ask questions right now based on Carmy’s mood.

“I don’t care where, just far.”

You end up driving to the outskirts of the city to some abandoned parking lot, tucked away behind a large building. It’s pretty private and dark despite a few straggling streetlamps.

“Care to explain why you were at a party of all places?” you ask, finally breaking the nearly hour-long silence, looking over at Carmy as you unbuckle your seatbelt and face him fully.

Carmy laughs humorlessly, rubbing the back of his neck, “The girl I’m- the girl I was seeing- her best friend threw it. I agreed to go to, you know, lift spirits. But the girl kinda got with someone else. So, I decided to leave.”

Carmy absolutely was not going to tell you it was Claire that he was with. In response, you nod slowly, swallowing the ball of awkwardness in your throat. Carmy has a girlfriend? And didn’t tell you? Or rather, had a girlfriend and didn’t tell you? You aren’t sure how to feel about that. You shrug it off.

“That sucks, Carm. I’m sorry.”

Carmy waves a dismissive hand, “It’s whatever. I didn’t really like her that much anyway. I was just trying to uh.” he trails off.

“Trying to what?” you ask, encouraging Carmy to continue.

Carmy fumbles his words, unsure of what to say here, but decides to just tell you. The worst thing you could do is laugh at him, and Carmy knew you wouldn’t do that.

“I was trying to get over you. I’m still not over you.”

You freeze, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, I figured you’re over me, and why bother with old stuff, you know?” Carmy shrugs.

“Who said I was over you?”

Carmy’s head snaps up so he can look at you for the first time in over an hour, “What?”

“I’m not over you, Carmy. It’s been a while, but I’ve never gotten past what we had.”

“Oh,” Carmy sniffs.

And here he assumed he couldn’t have you this whole time.

“Yeah,” you run your palms over the steering wheel, now looking ahead, “Looks like we just never moved on, huh?”

“I guess not,” the edge of Carmy’s lips curl into a smile as he plays with his tattooed fingers nervously, “What should we do about that?”

You glance over at Carmy before averting your gaze to the streetlamp ahead, “Oh, I don’t know.”

“Hey,” Carmy whispers, leaning over the console, “Look at me.”

You let your hands fall into your lap before looking over at Carmy, your eyes meeting. You notice how close he’s leaning in. You feel yourself burn from your ears to your chest in embarrassment and want. You’re embarrassed because you’re in your car under Carmy’s thick gaze, but you’re heavy with that feeling of desire. You want him so bad it physically hurts.

“I can think of a few things we could do about it.”

You hum, “Like what?”

Carmy looks around briefly before realizing there’s no one around for a while. He unbuckles his seatbelt and climbs into the backseat, “Come back here, and you’ll find out.”

You swallow a laugh at his brazenness but follow him anyway. You clamber onto his lap, your knees on either side of his hips and your hands pressed to his taut, clothed chest. As you look into Carmy’s eyes again, all your nervousness melts away. A grin finds its way onto your face as the laugh you swallowed earlier bubbles up your throat. Suddenly, you can’t stop laughing. You feel like a kid again.

“What’s so funny?” Carmy asks, your contagious laugh making him also chuckle a little.

“Nothing, it’s just,” you look out of the windows, making sure the coast is clear, “I never thought I’d fuck in the back of my car.”

“Who said we were fucking?” Carmy deadpans, and you are sharply taken aback.

Then, Carmy is the one to start laughing this time, and you roll your eyes, smacking him on his chest, “That wasn’t funny.”

Carmy grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him, “Is this too high school for you? Cause we can drive an hour back to my place if you need.”

“No,” you huff, “I don’t care where we are, Carm. I just thought it was an interesting place to have sex, is all. At an uh-” you glance behind you at the nearby dumpster, “At a paper plant, especially.”

“Just shut up and kiss me,” Carmy shakes his head at you, a soft smile on his face.

“Yes, chef,” you chuckle, grabbing both sides of his face and pressing your lips to his gently.

Carmy cradles you with his large hands, his fingers splayed out against your back as he pulls you closer. He moves his attention from your lips to your jaw, where he leaves a trail of kisses along where your neck connects to your ear. In the same spot that you had kissed him all those years before. Carmy smiles against your skin. He travels further down your neck, tugging at the hem of your t-shirt, which you pull off and toss into the front seat behind you. Carmy leaves hot, open-mouthed kisses to your collarbones and chest as his hands wander along your naked sides, gripping the fat of your hips through your sweatpants. You sigh in contentment before moving to remove Carmy’s shirt as well. He peels it off his body and over his head in a swift motion, letting it fall behind you somewhere up front. You admire Carmy’s fit body before leaning forward to capture him in another passionate kiss, your hands fumbling to unfasten his jeans. You lift yourself off his lap for him to shove his pants and underwear down his thighs far enough for his legs to comfortably spread slightly. While hovering over Carmy’s lap, you take the opportunity to pull down your own garments, kicking them off on the floorboards. Carmy discards your bra too, while he’s at it. And now you’re completely naked and vulnerable in the backseat of your car. 

You grasp Carmy’s hard length in your hand, swirling the precum around his tip with your thumb. Carmy reaches a hand underneath you, softly testing how wet you are. He smirks when he finds you’re fairly turned on already just from kissing.

“What can I say? I missed you,” you tease.

“Did you miss my fingers, too?” Carmy asks as he delves one into your entrance.

“Yes,” you breathe out, squeezing Carmy in your hand.

Carmy groans at the feeling of you slowly jerking him as he hooks his finger inside you. He adds another pretty quickly, considering how welcoming your cunt is for him. Carmy maintains eye contact with you. His normally icy blues are now like a dark ocean. You pull Carmy’s fingers out from you, replacing them with the tip of his length. 

“Fuck,” he shudders as you push yourself onto him inch by inch, your cunt all but sucking him in graciously.

With a few rocks of your hips and Carmy’s slow guidance, you manage to seat yourself fully, your thighs now flush against his hips. Carmy traces the outline of your bottom lip with his thumb before letting you take it into his mouth. You suck on it, gathering as much spit as you could muster. Carmy removes it from your mouth and then places it on your clit, where he rubs slow circles as you begin to move your hips. You feel him drag against your walls as you move up nearly off his cock, only to drop yourself back down in a swift motion. You cry out in pleasure, and Carmy groans at the sound, his free hand gripping your hip harshly. You gain a nice pace, bouncing on his length as he meets you in the middle with his thrusts. Carmy speeds up his assault on your clit, his eyes either focusing on yours or your breasts bouncing in his face. He switches it up every few minutes.

“It feels so good to have you back inside me, Carm,” you bite your lip, grasping his shoulders for leverage as you start fucking him even faster.

“Glad to hear it,” Carmy jokes, his voice nearly failing him as your walls clench around him.

He bucks his hips into you a little faster, trying to keep up with you. At this point, your arousal is seeping down your thighs and onto Carmy’s. You hope it doesn’t make its way to our seats, but also, you feel too good to even care. Carmy moves his hand from your hip to grasp your breast, tweaking your already attentive nipple. You hiss at the sensation, rolling your hips in a new pattern, Carmy hitting the perfect spot inside you now. That familiar feeling of warm tightness is forming in your lower belly as your thighs burn from exertion. Carmy feels you growing tighter around him, and he rubs figure eights into your clit, causing you to yelp. You’re now gasping for air as you lose yourself in the feeling of pleasure. Carmy lets go of your breast to hold you down on his lap so he can fuck up into you, your orgasm now teetering on the edge. He hits that spot again, sending you into a wave of bliss. You cum hard around Carmy, the gripping of your cunt crashes him into his own orgasm.

You let out a string of incoherent curses as you ride it out, pleasure rolling throughout your body. You collapse into Carmy’s chest, and he weakly runs his fingers through your hair. You both catch your breath, and you finally pull off of Carmy slowly. Pulling one of the backseats down, you search for a towel or extra hoodie you have in your trunk to clean up with. Finally, an old hoodie of Carmy’s, oddly enough, appears from under the spare tire. You snatch it and wipe up the two of you, and Carmy, of course, has to make a comment about the garment.

“Just be grateful I had it. It can always be washed,” you snort, getting redressed.

The windows are all fogged up now, you realize. So, you climb back into the front seat and turn on the heat. It’s cool outside now, making the inside of the car a little cold now that you’ve come to your senses, and the warmth is welcoming. Carmy gets back into the passenger side after getting his pants pulled back up, taking his shirt from the seat and pulling it over his head. After you both get adjusted and buckled back in, you burst into laughter.

“Some party, huh?” you joke, and Carmy rolls his eyes.

“That dumbass party is the reason we’re here now, so I’d take it as a win.”

“I hate parties.”

“I know you do.”

You both share a longing look before you put the car in gear, “Now, where to?”

[velivirixe]

AFTG storyboard idea (sort of)

So, I know deep on the inside we all yearn for an AFTG adaptation, (although not right now with the tv industry as it is right now, if it were a Netflix show for example it would get cancelled after a season like Shadow & Bone, Dead Boy Detectives, etc.) so i have kinda imagined what the opening scene could look like. (take in mind I have no experience whatsoever in this type of thing so bear with me)

First of all, I do think a narrator (Neil obvs) would benefit the storytelling, given that the entire story is from Neil's perspective. I think it can give the audience better insights into his mind. Obviously every book to screen adaptation can't be 100% accurate but I'll get into it later.

So, imagine this:

Black screen, until an orange light turns into fire that puts to light the burning car that Mary's body is in. No music, the only thing we can hear is the crackling of the fire. We pan for a few seconds to brown haired Neil, who is sitting on the sand to a small distance of the car. His arms holds his legs and he is small, curved into a ball almost, as he waits for the fire to burn out.

We then pan again to the car, and the camera gets closer to the car, until all we see is an orange light that gets very small. The camera then moves back, and instead of the burning car we see the faint orange light of a cigarrete almost burned to the filter. We then see Neil holding it in the bleachers, while staring at the improvised Exy court of Millport High be dismantled. His fingers twitch and ash falls to his shoes. Then, Neil's narration begins: ....

He could start by saying something along the first lines that describe Exy, given that new audiences have NO idea that the sport in the ✨trailer✨ isn’t just normal lacrosse. So you could get something like “Exy is a bastard sport. An evolved sort of lacrosse on a soccer-sized court with the violence of ice hockey. I’ve never been able to give it up.” Short but direct, not much given that Neil is the type of person to only describe to us what he deems important.

Que to Coach Hernandez entering the frame. Neil with his back to him. Coach Hernandez then speaks…

So how do ya'll like it so far? Very short and lacking (not to mention lots of parentesis in my yap session) I know, but I really enjoy daydreaming and imagining about this. If anyone wants to add, give feedback, come yell at me you're welcome to :)

[mafuluzx]

Hi Mafu!! Ok, so im thinking of reader having a not-so-secret crush on Kai (Tournament Of Elements) and when he starts trying to impress Skylor (?), reader gets jealous and inevitably confesses to him? im a sucker for unrequited love BUT, i hate sad endings 😔

I hear you my guy, let's do this. I got a perfect idea for the reader and plot, but I wasn't happy with my first draft so I wrote the whole thing AGAIN. So sorry it took this long! (Also to other readers, currently 3 more somewhat different oneshots are in progress!)

Though there was a little problem with the ending. I didn't want to make it sad, but unrequited love is sad as hell. So I just... did something? Yeah, it might not be the best. I STILL STAND BY MY PERFECT IDEA STATEMENT THOUGH!

One more thing: One thing I don't like about oneshots is that I don't have time to make character backstories full and character development is none existent. RAH!

Kai x male reader oneshot!

Ya'll know it, season 4, baby!

Lightning in a Bottle

(y/n) was finally in his element, no, not literally. Well, Jay did always call him the Master of Attention-seeking, but (y/n) didn't need to 'seek' anything now.

Lloyd, the leader of the group, was wary. Jay and Cole, well, they were somewhat exited. And Kai? The usual, for now.

The 'after party' was supposed to be an informal event to those who had survived the first few rounds of the games. But it could hardly be called that, when Chen was the one hosting it. Sensei Garmadon hadn't even bothered to show up.

There was a table filled with a total feast, much to Cole's delight. Basically everyone who was still in the tournament was there, along with kabuki and other servants. Though Lloyd had insisted against it, the ninja team had split up to enjoy themselves after the most stressful 48 hours of their lives.

So basically, the crowd was huge. And though many were wary of the ninja, (y/n) won over peoples hearts left and right, as he usually did.

The eyes on him brought out a proud smile. (y/n) had all the attention he could need. And didn't have to create it himself, like he usually did, with his powers. He was a ninja and part of the tournament, so of course he had an element. The Element of Illusion.

A good distraction, even better against those who hadn't anticipated it. And (y/n) had basically mastered it. His illusions, as long as he was clear headed himself, were perfect.

Even when not in battle, (y/n) would still use it. When he felt bad, felt down, or felt... they way he did before he met the team, he'd do it. He'd create illusions, crowds of people, all there to give him affirmation.

Okay, not all his uses for his powers were depressing like that. In fact, his powers would sometimes do their own thing. When (y/n) was happy, 'flowers' would bloom in places they really weren't supposed to. And when he was mad, those flowers would wilt and droop downward pathetically.

But as long as he was at the center of at least someones eyes, he was happy as if he had just caught lightning in a bottle. That was just the kind of person he was. (y/n) had to admit, Jay's usual nickname for him wasn't that far off.

(y/n) didn't ponder how he grew up like this, probably had something to do with neglect in his childhood. But well, his favorite past times were talking, listening, gossiping and partying.

On the sofa (y/n) comfortably lounged on, the Illusion ninja was chatting with one of the other competitor, the Master of Light, Mr. Pale, or Jason Pale, 32, twice divorced and currently in a fight defending all his property in a legal battle with his second ex-wife, as (y/n) now knew.

"Come on, tell me more about your powers," Mr. Pale really though he was the one draining information out of (y/n), but he couldn't be more wrong. "How do they work?"

"Just like yours do, Jason." (y/n) smiled sweetly, acting as if he didn't realize what Mr. Pale was trying to get out of him. (y/n) took a sip from his glass filled with bourbon and ice. It was only his first, so he wasn't even a little out of it yet. But he had told Lloyd it was ice tea, otherwise the green ninja would have 100% taken the entire thing away from him already.

Around (y/n) were both neon lights and lanterns, highlighting him as the star attraction of the room. Those had appeared on their own, but out of consideration, (y/n) had created Chen a little crown illusion just to make sure he wouldn't get jealous.

(y/n) took another sip of his drink, before sighing contently. But then his eyes traveled to something on the side of the hall, and suddenly (y/n) was neither listening to what Mr. Pale was saying or even smiling.

By the standing table with the feast, Skylor, red-headed Master of Amber was filling her plate with food while Kai Smith, red ninja, fire ninja, king of all things stubborn stood next to her with that idiotic grin on his face.

(y/n) had visualized it multiple times. If he had counted, which he hadn't done, that would probably be his most common illusion. That stupid smile, looking at him, for even once.

No, no, (y/n) couldn't be mad. He was chatting with Mr. Pale, Kai was chatting with Skylor. Nothing wrong with that. ...But they were so obviously flirting that it stung.

(y/n) wouldn't admit it. It was hardly a secret either. (y/n) couldn't keep other people's secrets nor his own, everyone except for the Master of Fire himself knew (y/n) liked him! And with a few more years of dropping obvious hints, Kai was sure to catch on sooner or later.

Skylor noticed something on Kai's shoulder and patted it off. Kai was blushing.

(y/n) had done that as well, so why was Kai reacting like that? What made him any different from her.

Kai tried to reach out to Skylor when she wasn't looking and casually drape his arm over her shoulder, the same thing he used to do with (y/n) no less, but pulled back and disguised it as just scratching his neck at the last second.

(y/n) was angry, but at the same time, relieved.

Kai probably gave Skylor a backhanded compliment, because for a moment she looked just like (y/n) when Kai suddenly gave him those.

Things like... 'You're stronger than you think', 'I want you here', 'it wouldn't be the same without you'. They were no love confessions, but (y/n) couldn't help but hope they might be leading that way. 'you might not matter to everyone, but you matter to us. You matter to me'... Was it all casual?!

Kai was leaning against the feast table 'coolly', but he ended up accidentally knocking over a bowl of fortune cookies. This made his scramble awkwardly like crazy, but the scene brought a tiny laugh from Skylor's lips, and that made Kai's widen as if he had melted.

Suddenly the lanterns grew dim, and the neon signs crackled out, and whatever other illusions (y/n) had accidentally created faded from sight.

Only a spotlight stayed on Kai, and yes, I still mean it literally. Skylor was the one who pointed it out, motioning from Kai's feet all the way to the ceiling.

Kai too looked up or down, before his face changed to one of realization. He looked around before finally spotting (y/n) and pointing over to him, saying something to Skylor at the same time. Then, the red ninja waved to him.

(y/n) didn't wave back, and instead pointed up, motioning 'look up''. Kai understood and did just that. But instead of a spotlight, the illusion had changed to a storm cloud. And with a swift move from (y/n)'s hand, a lightning strike shot at Kai. Not only was it loud, but it also shook Kai out of his skin.

Of course, it wasn't real, but Kai still turned to (y/n) with a face of a drenched puppy, as if asking 'why?''

(y/n) wasn't going to answer as he stood up from the sofa. He offered Mr. Pale a few parting words while thrusting his glass into the hands of one of the kabuki, before storming out.

He didn't bother going to his room or even staying inside for that matter, instead he rushed out to get some fresh air to calm his head.

But even the air couldn't save him, when the door behind him burst open.

Kai was out of breath and he looked pissed. But compared to the anger on (y/n)'s face, he was just an annoyed chipmunk.

"Go back, Kai," (y/n) snapped, turning on his heel so fast that Kai almost ran into him. "I left because I want to be alone, is that not obvious?"

Kai threw his hands up. "I just wanna talk-"

"Oh, now you wanna talk?" (y/n) let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Funny, because I don't remember you talking to me like that back there. No, you were too busy staring at her like she hung the damn moon."

Kai’s expression twisted, confusion flashing across his face. "Wait... is this about Skylor?"

"Ding ding ding, give the man a prize," (y/n) said mockingly, turning around and stomp away. But before he could take more than two steps, Kai grabbed him, gripping his arms tightly.

"(Y/n), will you just-" Kai tried to get a few words out, but was cut off.

"Let go of me!" (y/n) snapped again, struggling against Kai's grip. He could've easily broken free if he wanted to, the two were on the same level of strength. But (y/n) didn't have the energy. He shoved at Kai's chest, trying to break free, but Kai held firm.

(y/n) was the most dramatic person the team knew, but they never called him over the top or dramatic. An attention seeker, yes, but nothing more. (y/n) was sure he was trying to bend the line of understanding on Kai's part. He wondered when the 'you're acting like a kid!' would fall out of his mouth.

"Just listen to me-" Kai tried to sound patient. Unfortunately, Kai and 'patient' could never fit together.

"I don't wanna listen! I don't wanna hear whatever you have to say!" (y/n) spat, his voice rising with every word. "Because it will never compare to what you say to her!"

Kai's grip faltered for half a second, but (y/n) was too far gone to stop now.

"You don't see me," (y/n) repeated, his voice shaking. "You don't hear me... You are such an idiot!"

Kai's lips parted, like he wanted to argue, but (y/n) cut him off before he could.

"You're basically blind!" (y/n) slammed his fists against Kai's chest, his anger boiling over. "I hate you and your stupid face! I hate your stubborn attitude! I hate that you act cool all the time, and I hate that you're actually cool when you don't try!" His voice cracked, but he didn't stop. His fists pounded against Kai's chest with every word. "And I hate that I like it all!"

Silence.

(y/n) froze, his breath coming out in sharp, ragged pants. His hands trembled where they rested against Kai's chest, but he didn't have the strength to pull away.

Kai stared at him, stunned. His arms, which had been holding (y/n) in place, slowly dropped to his sides.

The realization hit him all at once. Like a punch to the gut.

(y/n) turned his head away, squeezing his eyes shut. His whole body felt like it was burning, a painful heat curling in his chest.

"Let me go, Kai," he muttered. This time, Kai did, staring as (y/n) stepped away from him.

Though (y/n) had gotten a bit emotional, he suddenly felt better. Like a weight had been lifted off his chest. He was still angry as hell, but looking Kai in the eyes wasn't a dreadful thought anymore.

Kai was definitely still processing things as he spoke up. "I- Just- Give me some time to think-" Kai tried to say something, but (y/n) cut him off again.

"Think? What is there to think about?" (y/n) scoffed.

"All of this! I never knew, it's surprising..." Kai scratched the back of his neck. He didn't look that surprised, more like... happy.

Of course, someone admitted they liked him! Kai and his huge ego,(y/n) thought.

"NO SHIT!!" (y/n) shouted and turned around, rolling his eyes.

"Hey- wait!" Kai tried to reach out, but (y/n) had taken off speed-walking away.

"Nope! You heard what I said, now get back to your red-head girlfriend!" (y/n) covered his ears, shouting as he picked up the pace.

"Come on, she isn't-" "LAA LAA, I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!!"

[faegoddessog]

31: Samhain

Well loves, we made it, Every damn day (except that first one, which I'll rectify when I consolidate) Thanks to @slowsweetlove for providing the Austin based jungle-gym for me to play on. And thanks to all ya'll for hanging out with me , and Austin and sometimes Callum for October.. Hawtober? Hmmm...

Those of you that like to read my mind smut, I'll be taking a digital break for a while. Y'know: touch some grass, do some knitting, bake some bread, paint, declutter, put up some preserves or something cool like that.

Enjoy the end of my own creative challenge for #DDofAB- October 2024

Here is my ongoing masterlist of this project. Keep and eye out for the story in full (or at least less parts) to be posted

My other works are here if you are interested!

Warnings: missing the man, finding the man

You haven’t seen hide nor hair of Austin since those two weeks in New York.  He had pretty much moved out of his hotel and into your apartment for the duration of his stay.  He took you to plays, made you dinners and made sure a day didn’t go by without showing you that you mattered to him. That and he made sure your pussy stayed wet. You’d not had so much sex in your entire life. It was amazing. 

Then he was gone.  

Before he left, you two had agreed that, for now at least, you would keep it a ‘no strings attached’ kinda relationship. You had a whole bunch of work in the coming months and he was filming. He had explained that when he is working, he sometimes can’t really do anything else and usually his phone is taken from him.  He had texted you, off and on for a while, but it had been radio silence for some time. You knew he was filming in Hungary then here stateside somewhere. It was surreal and sometimes you felt like those two weeks were from someone else’s life. The lingering fear that it would be another ten years before you saw him again was kept only at bay by Callum. 

Cal had been far more communicative. He even popped into New York a couple times. Honestly he was far better at maintaining a friendship than Austin. 

“Yeah, it’s not like he doesn't care, he just gets caught up in creating character and the artist aspect of it all. Time kinda doesn't mean anything when he gets like that.  If you can handle that, you’ll be ok,” Cal had told you once at dinner. 

Funnily enough, neither of you were as driven to fuck without Austin there. You joked how he was the sexy lynchpin. 

Did you fuck anyway? Yeah, of course you did. But it was way more of a ‘friends with benefits’ feel than it had been with Austin.

Today though you are in the most unlikely of places. You are in Ohio for your cousin’s wedding. It was also Halloween, or Samhain, as she called it.

“It’s pronounced sow-een,” she kept telling anyone near with ears. She had this love affair with Halloween, excuse me, Samhain, so her wedding was gothy and occult themed. It was the only time she felt she could get away with it. Still there were grumbles from the relatives.  Skulls, ravens and ouija boards outfitted each table, complete with Tarot decks and black candles as wedding favors. 

She had arranged a palm reader and fortune teller  the way other people had DJ’s and photo booths.  The venu was out in a barn on her friends’ farm. You had come out that afternoon to help set it all up. The wedding wasn’t until after dark, of course. 

Her little sister, who was in her mid teens, had brought over a Ouija board and plonked down on the table where you were sitting and tasting the special "black widow" cocktail complete with black glitter and a red spherical ice cube. You thought it was a drink that tempted fate, and hoped it wasn't predictive of your cousins marriage to be.

"Play with me," she had asked, "it's not fun alone."

You agreed, what harm could it have really.

She asked things like:

Are there spirits in the barn? 'no'

Has anyone died in here? 'yes'

Am I crazy? 'no'

Have I met the person I'll marry?

The planchet wandered to ‘no’ for her and practically zipped to ‘yes’ for you. 

“Oooo, who is it! You have to spill, I’m dying to know!” she said wagging her eyebrows. She idolized you, living in the big city and making your own way in the world. You had promised her a trip to New York for a graduation present. She was definitely one of those black sheep of your midwestern family. Destined for something far bigger than marrying a local boy and popping out kids. 

“I don’t know, could be anyone,” you laughed, “I live in a city with eight million people.”  

“Ok, ok! Let’s try this. Ouija Board, where is this man?” she asks. 

O-U-T-S-I-D-E came the answer. 

“That’s unhelpful,” she made a sour face, “unless he’s like a forest ranger or something. Know any forest rangers?” 

“No,” You just laugh it off. Ouija Boards were supposed to be for talking to the dead. You are pretty sure that you aren't going to marry someone dead.

It was then that you heard the tell tale sounds of an old motorcycle in the driveway.

“Oh yeah, they said there was a movie being filmed about motorcycles and that they might be using the front drive to turn around in,” your little cousin says, walking towards the barn door. “Isn't that so neat, a movie, here!! I wonder if it has anyone famous in it. OMG that’d be lit! 

“I dunno, I’ll ask” you hear a deep voice outside. 

You turn just to see the silhouette of a tall man in the bright square of the barn door. 

“Excuse me, is there a restroom I could use here?” the timbre of the voice is unmistakable if layered with a Chicago accent. 

“Austin?” his name drops out of your mouth like a spell.

It’s bewitching, the way he strides into the barn, his heels thunking on the old wooden floor. The lights finally uncover his features, and Austin only has eyes for you.

“Is it you? Is it really you,” he says disbelievingly. 

“Me? It’s fucking you!” you retort, or try to. He is on you in seconds, gathering you in his arms. 

 He smells like cold air, motor oil and cigarettes. He kisses you, tasting faintly like whiskey.  The world falls away and it’s only you two. 

“I’ve been missing you,” he says, placing his forehead on yours.

“Me too, so much,” you breathe back, hardly believing this is real.

You stay there for the span of two breaths, until your little cousin squeals, “Oh my god it was right, he WAS OUTSIDE!” 

The End

credit to @strangergraphics for the graphic

Always tag me: @purejasmine, @slowsweetlove, @richardslady121, @austinbutlerslovers, @tadpoleteef, @allittakesisoneflight

"I've been tagged by you before Lumiere!": @thisworldisntrealhoney,  @1nho,  @megangovier, @briaandthephantoms, @andro-inherdreamworld @callumsgirl @blombardo  @fefeisastar @hacunamy @nestito702 @denised916 @jayydep @r0m4nitcl0v3r @heyidc03, @secondchild-2, @flander42 @natural-born-rebel-spirit @lecosymood @kathrynzaragoza @bsunshinexo @jayydep @ifyouloveweedletsgosmoke

[wolfhard13]

Mine

Mike Wheeler x fem!reader

Warnings:fluff, jealousy and little bit of swearing and its a little long to read.

Note: Mike and Reader have been best friends forever and when a certain new girl pops up and tries to steal Mike away, Reader knows she has to make the new girl know Mike is hers.

*Season 3 Mike and Reader are both 14? I think*

"Y/N?" Mike calls out, annoyed as he has to wait for you to finish getting ready to go to Starcourt Mall.

"Almost done, Mikey!" Reader calls out to him as she finishes her make-up just in time for Mike to swing open the door and look at Reader and her cute choice of clothing.

"W-woah, you look umm g-great" Mike mumbles as his eyes go wide, taking in readers pretty sun dress that she wears every summer and her perfectly curled hair and cute shy smile.

"Thanks, Mikey" You grinned as you took his hand and lead him over to the front yard to go ride over to the mall to meet your friends.

Mike blushes as you interlock your hand with his and drag him down the stairs all the way to where your bikes were.

"Do you think they're waiting for us still?" You asked as you hopped on the bike and stared at your best friend.

"I don't know N/N but if they aren't we can go hang out ourselves" Mike chuckled and you smiled wide.

"Oooh~ I would love that!" You squeal and Mike sighs as he looks at you dreamily and takes in your beauty.

"Let's go now Mikey, before we actually get late" you said as you started riding off.

Mike nods and does as you said and also went after you. Anyone from a 10 meter distance could tell Mike is smitten for you and was so obviously inlove with you and people could say the same for you as they noticed your lingering glances at him and his lips and they way you were so close with eachother.

You both arrived at the mall and put your bikes in the bike rack as you make your way over to the party and Max smiles and you run up to her for a hug and she glady hugs you back and all of you watched up while waiting for Will to get here.

Once Will arrived you all went to Schoops Ahoy just before Steve's shift ended so you could get free ice-cream.

The party all sat down at a table and you and Mike sat close together while eating your ice creams. You and Mike have been friends since you both could talk and Mike was only a year older then you, so you both grew up together meaning you knew everything about eachother and were very close.

You all talked and hanged out while walking around the mall as a group and window shopping (ya'll are broke) and you walked with Mike as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. It was a normal thing for you two and was also for the party but that didn't stop them from teasing you two relentlessly.

"Awww, you two finally dating?" Dustin says in a sing-song voice as you and Mike both blush and deny it.

"You sure?" Lucas and Max both say before giggling and laughing at you two and you notice Mike really embarrassed, so you slip your hand into his and give it a gentle squeeze and when the others weren't looking, a quick peck on his cheek making both of your faces light up and get all red.

You relased your hand from his and walked faster to catch up with Max and you girls both laughed and talked about the utter most random things as Mike walked with the rest of the group but was absolutely stunned and not in a bad way just like happy shocked or smth.

A few hours go by and you guys have to go home and since you and Mike are neighbours you rode together.

"Today was fun, huh?" You told Mike with a smile and he smile back while saying.

"Yeah, very fun." He said before saying, "like the bit where you kissed me." Mike said, leaving both of you blushing messes and you quickly defended yourself.

"I-i was trying to cheer you up and I only kissed your cheek!" you said quickly and defensively but with a huge grin on your face.

"Yeah, right." Mike said and you both laughed before reaching your houses.

"See you tomorrow, Mikey?" You asked and he nodded and you went to go hug him and he returned it before going into your separate houses.

You woke up tomorrow and got ready to all hang out again and it was pretty much the same all summer before it was the last day of break and the party and you went to a hill and made a promise to stick together no matter what happens. It was a tradition you've been doing since 2 years ago.

You and Mike walked home and he walked you to your door before saying, "Princess?"

Mike had been calling you that since you were 6 as a joke because you had dressed up in a princess costume and he a knight for Halloween and you wore that costumes for 3 days before taking it off because Mike gifted you it for your birthday and you were excited to wear it.

"Yeah, Mikey?" You mumbed and looked up into his pretty brown eyes and stared at eachother so intensely before Mike slowly leaned in and pressed his lips on yours.

You guys pulled apart for a second before you kissed him again and when you guys pulled away you pressed your forehead on his and closed your eyes as you went for another kiss.

You both smiled when you stopped the kiss before you went inside your house and when you closed the door, you quietly screamed and made little excited noises and Mike grinned as he could hear you from outside, but said nothing as he walked back to his house with the biggest smile ever, on his face.

The next day was the first day of school so you decided to be a little extra and put more effort in so you got into the shower and picked a cute outfit, a cropped baby blue shirt with black shorts. You asked your mum if she could braid your hair and after you put on your make-up and prepared your school bag for the day.

You got to school and waited for the rest of the party to arrive and Max came first and you guys sat on the bench and waited for the guys and you told her what happened with Mike yesterday and she and you were both giggling and laughing about it.

"I think I'm inlove with him" you confessed to Max just as Mike, Will, Dustin and Lucas arrived and asked what you were talking about and Max replied with 'nothing' as you and Mike made heart eyes at eachother.

You guys were just staring at eachother and the whole party was just whispering and chuckling at the interaction between you two. You both smiled and then you walked up close to him and pecked his lips before walking away with Max.

"OMG DUDE" Dustin screamed, "DID SHE J-JUST?!? OMG"

"SINCE WHEN WAS THAT A THING?" Both Lucas and Will yelled at him.

Mike didn't say anything as he blushed and pressed to fingers to his lips, where you kissed him and smiled before calling your name and chasing after you and Max.

"Hey! Y/N" Mike jogged up to you and Max just as she whispered in your ear she was about to go.

"Hi Mikey" you said as he pulled you in by the waist and kissed you again.

Once you guys pulled apart you smiled and held his hand and he walked you to class, where you both sat down in the 2nd last row next to eachother.

"Mike?" You said, "What are we exactly?" You spoke to him in a curious voice.

"Whatever you want to be but I do really want to be your boyfriend and you know? Be dating?" He said as he blushed in the last few words.

"Well then I guess I'm your girlfriend" You giggles as Mike smiled wide at this information and leaned over to kiss your head and went back to listening to what the teachers was saying but he linked his hand into yours.

A few months go by and life seems perfect, you have your lovely boyfriend, good friends, amazing grades and it all seemed so good right now. You're always hanging out with Mike and your both very clingy but you don't mind it's actually amazing because when Mike gets clingy he gets attached to you like attached and will not be physically removed.

You enter school with Mike's arm around your waist and your friends walking behind you. They go to separate classes while you and Mike go to your English class. You sit down with Mike in your shared desk and Mike's places his hand comfortably on your thigh and you listen to the teacher while he draws circles on you.

The teacher announces there will be a new girl and then she steps in and you watch as her eyes go past everyone on onto your boyfriends. You shift uncomfortablely at her intense staring before finally looking at the teacher.

"Mike?" You asked quietly as the teacher was introducing the new girl, whose name is Aria.

"Yeah, princess?" Mike looks at you, like your the world or to precise his world.

"The new girl keeps staring at you." You shift again when you notice her gaze on your boyfriend.

"I don't care about her, love. Just you." Mike says as he kisses the crown of your head and grips you tighter as you lean into his touch.

"Aria, go sit down next to Mike" the teacher yelled, "Mike put your hand up."

Mike hesitantly put his hand up and moved even closer to you, if that was possible.

"Hi, I'm Aria" She said to Mike smiling all wide and flirtatious.

"I'm Mike" He said bluntly and didn't shake her hand when she held it off but she brushed it off.

"You been here long?" She asked him question after question and he got sick and tired of it so he pulled you onto his lap and the teacher didn't care as he wrapped his arms around your waist and snuggled his head in your neck.

"Yeah, I guess. Could you stop talking? I'm with my girlfriend." Mike snarled as he cuddles into you more. You blushed at him being this much PDA with you but you liked it as he didn't so it much often.

You death stared the girl, who did the same back at you and you and Mike both got up straight away to leave class once the bell rang.

"Let's go back to mine." The Wheeler boy says as he drags you along not even giving you the chance to say yes or no. :)

You both hang out at his house for the rest of the day and went to bed together and cuddled the rest of the night.

The next day the girl did the same after and she did so for a month and recieved a months worth of Mike's rejections, before you had enough.

You came out if class to see Mike in the hallway and you both made eye contact and he was about to go over to you as a certain demon spawn (Aria) came over to him and again started to flirting with him.

You had enough so you decided to take matters into your own hands.

"Mikey!" You ran up to him and into his arms as he spun you around before setting you down and you immediately went in for a kiss. But it wasn't a singular kiss, no, you were full on making out with Mike infront of Aria and you broke apart just as Mike said.

"L-love" as you bit down gently on his neck and left a hicky on there and he squirmed.

Once you finished what you were doing you turned around and faced Aria.

"Oh hi. I didn't see you there." Just as you grabbed Mike hand and dragged him through the halls.

"Princess?" Mike said teasingly, "Were you jealous?" He said giggling and smiling like a fool.

"What? No!" You laughed once you looked him in the eye and he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into him.

"I'm so inlove with you. Just you." Mike said repeating what he said before and that was all you needed.

"I love you too, Mike"

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

My Unpopular Hobie Brown Opinions (& Headcanons) - [Part 1/??????]

Excuse me excuse me i got some shit to say that needs to be said cause this just what i be thinking when i be thinking too hard cause i be doing that sometimes (photo is of me when i be thinking cause i be doing that)

_______________________________________________________

First of all - Hobie doesn't have a smart phone.

Those little fake text yall be making? Where Hobie has a blue bubble? Nah bro not happening.

You think Hobie Brown is walking around with Siri in his pocket?? Siri who listens in on you and responds to the things you're saying while storing your info?

He isn't.

And he's not on twitter either so you can put those fake tweets in the basket too

He's not scrolling on the bird app giving Elon Musk revenue and engagement

Hobie seem like the type to walk in your house and start bad mouthing your Alexa. Be in your kitchen like 'Hey Google, kill yourself'

He has never opened or witnessed Tiktok and he never will

AT MOST he has a burner flip phone like a plug. And even then you have to pray he buys minutes. Voicemail? FULL.

Hobie is not a player.

He's from the 70's - the strongest time for HARDCORE second-wave feminism. Like bra-burning. Plus he's in the punk scene. He knows better than to say some slick shit or pull anything

BUT if ya'll make it clear it's casual and you catch feelings.. damn that sucks for you

Also, Hobie Brown doesn't get jealous. Lets stop the cap right now.

Mans doesn't even believe in private property and you think he'd feel comfortable being possessive over his partner

ESPECIALLY if they're a woman?

And secondly what insecurities does he even have to make him jealous? Can YOU , right now ,even imagine a man that would make Hobie Brown insecure/jealous?

I'll wait.

Realistically speaking, if you're not punk he's not into you most likely.

You don't have to listen to the music or 'dress the part' he doesn't care about that i mean like politically if you aren't in the movement good luck

Like if you turn down going to protests, or organizing,

or you don't wanna do community service with him he's not gonna feel it.

And he'd most likely be into people educated and into thinks like communism, socialism, anarchism, etc. If you can't hold a conversation about the immoralism behind being a landlord, then yeah there might be some awkward silences

Also can't believe I have to say this but ACAB and I mean that.

If you fuck with cops, Hobie doesn't fuck with you. Unless they're your family and even then they're on thin fucking ice.

Hobie has one-on-one interacts with fascists cops on the regular. The actively know who Spider-man is and target him.

Of course he's gonna hate them, or vent about them. The same way his one good experience with Gwen doesnt make him like the Society, having one good theoretical experience with a cop wouldn't make Hobie not hate cops.

In addition, Hobie has canonically killed people and is willing to kill again any day of the week if he has to. He stays ready.

He's done it with his guitar and he'll probably do it again in the future

And if you're with him you'd genuinely have to be comfortable and okay with that.

What are you gonna do? Defend a fascist? Exactly

So if he comes home with blood on him that isn't his, how you react is on you-

He's still gonna sleep good as hell at night

Hobie isn't very romantic. Like at all.

He's not buying you flowers - that's a sexist trope. He's not taking you to the movies because fuck the studio execs. He's not celebrating Valentine's Day because it's literally made up and he'll only celebrate anniversaries if you REALLY want to

He probably isn't chivalrous at all because he doesn't think to be - it's outplayed. So he's not opening doors and pulling out chairs or nothing

I feel like he's the type that if you got mad about it he'd be genuinely surprised because it just doesn't occur to him to be romantic

He'd be like 'why the fuck do you need roses?? i mean i love you i can knick you some if u want??'

He'd probably feel like all that is superficial as hell, and show his love in other ways

like stressing that you text him when you get home or always asking if you've eaten

he'd be like 'had any scran' or 'you've eaten right?' and if you havent hed immediately turn and go looking for the nearest food to give you (food insecurity does that to you)

Oh and he is not getting married not even a hippie wedding

cause Hobies not buying a ring (gold mining causes suffering anyway) and he's not proposing and if his partner proposed I feel like he'd be shocked in a slightly uncomfortable way

I could absolutely see him being poly. Like either being in a thruple, but most likely just having multiple seperate partners who also have partners

i can see Hobie being a baby daddy. Not in the bad way. In the good way. But not in the Peter B. way.

Not elaborating on that last part it just is what it is

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

okay ill leave this here before it gets long also no proofreading oop - but tell me what you think id love to hear your thoughts! What you agree with or disagree with and why :) im chill and nice and not a twitter person i promise lol

but also, I said what I said <3

[thiniceofeternalyouth]

MISLEADIN' ME SERIES: CHAPTER FIFTEEN

DAMOCLES SWORD

⊳ Gojo Satoru x f!reader

series masterlist

Genre: angst, fluff, sci-fi, cosmology.

Words count: ~11.5k

tw: rape

⊲ previous

It was an obscenely sweltering day. The damp air slid over your skin, touching your cheeks and arms, then slid deeper and enveloped your whole body, salty drops of sweat dripping from the back of your neck. The sun disappeared behind a shroud of milky gray clouds, leaving the world pale and lonely, and the darkness crept out of its corners. It lured people in with the promise of coolness, but there was no better liar that day than a stray shadow.

Neither ice cream, nor cool water, nor the gazebo in which you were sitting saved you. With a job like Frank's, you didn't get to choose which day you spent time together. Though the time was nearing evening, there was hardly anyone at the amusement park - only the equally desperate or busy.

Rachel was whining under your ear about wanting to go on the roller coaster again, and Frank and Kyle were soothing her, trying to tell her that after a big lunch, the best thing to do was to wait a little longer. You could understand Frank - he did care about Rachel, but as you glanced slyly at your brother and remembered his squeals, you sensed a certain falseness in his words.

"Adoptee," Rachel whimpered, almost climbing on top of you. You lazily tried to shove her off - already in her teens, she was much bigger and heavier than you, and you were afraid your bones might just broke. "Let's just leave them and go alone, hmm?"

"Rachel, don't call her that," Frank said in a mentoring tone. "Your sister might not like it."

"What?" she muttered carelessly, wrinkling her nose unhappily at the unwanted intrusion. "If she didn't like it, she would have said so long ago."

"Young lady," he addressed you gently. "Why don't ya go back to the tent and get some cotton candy for all of us, 'kay?"

You nodded obediently and took the money from his hands and stood up from the bench. Frank watched you very carefully as you moved as far away from them as possible. Still feeling like an outsider, he was unsure of himself or the usefulness of his parental lectures. Was it too late to parent all of you? "Rachel, honey," he sighed, tearing his gaze away from you - you were already talking to the salesman, poking at the display case. "Not everyone gets to talk about their feelings directly."

"What's the big deal?" the girl asked incredulously, frowning her eyebrows. "What's the problem with just saying it?"

"Because we all have different personalities," Frank answered evasively. "And there's nothing ya can do about it. Ya can only accept it, and if ya love a person, you have to accept them as they are."

"And how am I supposed to know she's not happy with something if she doesn't say it?" Rachel resented, splashing her hands. She glanced in your direction - you were still chatting vividly with the salesman, and the one making cotton candy was laughing every now and then. Is that the behavior of someone who's been hurt by something recently?

"I can't answer that question either," Frank said, scratching the back of his head thoughtfully. "I think time and empathy will help ya smooth things over. But, of course, ya'll have to learn to communicate and talk your problems out loud."

"Not me. Her," Rachel snorted pompously, crossing her arms over her chest and throwing her leg over her foot. 

"That's right," chuckled Frank nervously. 

They'd all let their guard down too much. The stifling, smoky air was accompanied by serious conversation, making the environment unbearable as Kyle, Rachel, and Frank sprawled on the bench like melted jelly. Each was thinking as hard as he could, though each thought was blurred into a sloppy puddle of salty, endless sweat. Every now and then one of them would jump up, breaking free from the clutches of the vile damp half-sleep as people passed by their gazebo, talking lazily about something. No one wanted to get up from their seats. No one wanted to stay here any longer. No one noticed the cotton candy vendor standing all alone in his tent.

No one noticed you were missing.

[August 7, 2020; 08:31am; hunters' hq]

There was a tense atmosphere.

Gojo hadn't said a word to you since this morning. At first you were greeted only by sleepy grunting and the rustle of sheets; everything after that was accompanied by total silence as if someone had broken a radio that barely worked. You tried to keep your distance, respecting his personal boundaries, though all you wanted to do was follow him around and ask him what had happened.

You knew how and when the sorcerer was silent, and it hadn't made you uncomfortable before, but now the silence was tearing at your nerves, and you wanted to plug the void as soon as possible, no matter what it took. For a moment, you felt like a stranger - is he behaving the same way with them?

You sat on the bed, sat in the chair, paced back and forth, keeping your eyes on his back. Gift paper was strewn all over the workroom, ribbons of crumpled tape sticking to your feet as Gojo tried to pack a small, flat box, which, surprisingly, caused you not only amazement, but also feel the sting of a needle of indistinct size, whether it barely grazed you or went straight through your heart. 

You finally dared and came closer, sitting down on the table. You stared at his fingers smoothing the paper, then at his face. It was uncharacteristically blank, and it was as if you were facing not a person but a likeness of one - no facial expressions, no color. "Who's this for?" you asked awkwardly, but the sorcerer didn't respond, just cut off more sticky tape. "Satoru, did ya have another fight with me in your head?" you chuckled nervously, and without waiting for an answer, you felt empty again. Snickering and bowing your head, you poked your foot at his shin in embarrassment. "Why aren't ya saying anything?"  

"Knife in my back gets in the way of talking," Gojo muttered, giving up, but you didn't hear his muffled babble.

You looked up. "What?" you asked, delighted at the long-awaited answer from your favorite voice.

"If you got someone, why didn't ya tell me?" he'd better be pouting his lips theatrically or clutching at his heart like he always did. You'd rather his indignant voice hit your eardrums again, making you squint. It would be much easier for you to endure the flashy drama than this unfamiliar, uncharted and frightening ocean of indifference. Gojo's voice may have been like the waves - soft, smooth, lulling, but it was imbued with a coldness unlike any the North had ever seen. "I'm kinda your best friend, aren't I?" he added more quietly. 

"I explained already, it's not exactly a date," you tried to justify yourself, desperately grasping at the attempt you'd been given. "It's a business meeting. Really."

"How long have you been wearing dresses to business meetings?" sorcerer asked absently, raising an eyebrow. "I mean, let's just say I've never seen you in a dress, and for some... barely a stranger you suddenly decided to do such an honor," the more Gojo spoke, the more paper and sticky tape flew to the floor, and the more he thought about what had happened, the more tattered they were. "Did you even see yourself when you got the message?" he asked wryly. "Oh, I have a date, oh, I don't have a dress," he parodied your voice and your lost state, looking around the room with open eyes. "Just ridiculous," Gojo spat out quietly, nearly squeezing and breaking the gift box. 

"I... I don't know what to say," you admitted confusedly, tucking your legs under you. "If ya think I don't trust you again, and I'm holding something back, I told you right away," you said, shrugging embarrassedly.

It was as if Gojo hadn't heard you. "Are you gonna take off the mask for him, too?" your palms instantly went cold, both at the question and at the sound of his voice. "Okay, I'm sorry," he tossed carelessly as if closing the annoying topic once and for all. "Here you go. Give it to Nobara," he shoved a box under your nose, poorly wrapped and ridiculously tied with a satin ribbon. For some reason, his old words about being perfect in everything came to mind. 

"Nobara?" you worried, pressing the gift closer to you.

"Yeah. It's her birthday today," Gojo nodded and glanced at his watch. "That's it, I'm late," he touched his lips to your forehead, and the kiss was like water to your anxiety sprout. You should have ripped it out, but as you watched Gojo walk away, you realized that your hands were just buried in the ground. "Oh yeah," he remembered. "Tell her this gift is from you," sorcerer asked, stepping from foot to foot as he stood on the threshold. "If Nobara finds out it's from me, she'll just throw it in the trash."   

He didn't wait for your answer, didn't even wait for your nod - he just disappeared from sight. You were left alone with a small box that looked like a maimed man under the care of a negligent doctor, only instead of bandages, it was gift paper. You ran your finger over the mottled patterns, repeating their motifs.

You didn't know how the day would end for you or if it would end at all - you might be here forever. It was anticipation. It was the running. From it and to it. It was something cautionary and mesmerizing at the same time, like a lonely firefly that somehow found itself in the empty, impenetrable darkness - following it, the traveler would never be able to guess whether the firefly was paving the way to freedom or luring into the abyss. It was revenge.

You didn't know how the day would end for you. You just wanted Gojo to come home soon. 

The kitchen and living room looked like a small hurricane had blown through. The letters of the brightly colored 'Happy Birthday' sign hanging on the panoramic window were bent as if someone had tugged on them. There was confetti everywhere, so much of it that you could almost feel it on your tongue - you wanted to spit it out. Printed gift boxes were hiding behind the couch, shiny, colorful ribbons were tied to chairs, and food wrappers were everywhere. Though the mess looked deserted and abandoned, there was someone else here besides you.

Thinking the kids had gone to the second floor, you slipped past Shoko, who was sitting at the dining room table sipping wine. "They're not home," her warning made you stop short. "They went to the movies a couple hours ago."

You felt naked, and you clutched the gifts - one from Gojo, the other from you, which you bought in panic. "Uh," you mumbled timidly, turning around. "Okay," you didn't even have time to realize the awkwardness of the situation as your feet led you back to the workroom. "Ya know," you stopped at the threshold of the kitchen, turning around and looking Shoko in the back. You didn't know this girl, and you didn't understand why she suddenly decided to set you and Rachel up again - she had absolutely no use for it. "I just wanted to say-"

"Don't sweat it," she interrupted you unceremoniously with a wave of her hand. "I won't tell anyone," Ieiri didn't know if she was lying or not, but it was your conscience that she was hoping for at that moment.

"That's not what I meant," you cut off, and you went over to the table and sat down next to her, setting the presents on it with a thud. "I just wanted to tell you, uh...," you scratched the back of your head confusedly. "Thanks."

Ieiri stood up, and, taking an unopened bottle of wine from the refrigerator, sat back down. Her leisurely movements made you uncertain - maybe you'd expressed your gratitude in the wrong way? Perhaps you should have said something else? And why was there another glass on the table?

Shoko didn't like you, but more specifically, she didn't care about you. She thought you were heartless and didn't care at all even when her last best friend started hanging around you. After yesterday, she had come to a realization after her fear, and if she still didn't accept you, she now at least understood why you acted the way you did. Looking at your black mask, she now knew there was another mask behind it, and it was so deep in you that it completely hid your heart. "Just don't tell Gojo about this," she clicked her tongue lazily, sliding the glass toward you. "Otherwise he'll whine later about me being a bad influence on you." 

You were disconcerted by this show of approval, and didn't immediately realize that the glass was meant for you. "What are you staring at?" she asked quietly, throwing back her head and glaring at you. "Drink," under the invisible influence and charms of this eternally tired woman, you obediently tasted the wine, which immediately made you cringe - it was dry and sour. You almost dropped the glass when you heard Shoko laugh. "And yesterday you were guzzling tequila like you've been drinking it all your life."

"A dubious compliment," you squeaked, pinching your nose - it stung in your nostrils so badly it almost made your eyes water.

"Oh, come on," Shoko drawled, patting you on the shoulder condescendingly. She was already fully sprawled in her chair, elbows on the back - you got the feeling she'd be smoking if you weren't here. Watching her, so simple and open, you relaxed yourself. "So," she began in between. " Who else knows?"

"Well...," you grasped your glass, then rubbed the fingers of your hands together. "Higher-ups," you said with a shrug. "Kyle, Rach, Frank too-"

Shoko, losing patience, interrupted you again. "And Gojo?" 

"He's aware of it too," you rolled your eyes at her inept attempts at interrogation - couldn't she just ask the question head-on?

"And why am I not surprised," she sighed, raising her eyebrows in feigned exasperation. "Look...," her tired and detached demeanor was too quickly replaced by a fraternal and cavalier one, and you didn't know which corner to shove yourself into - the one where joy sat, or the one where wariness lurked? "Now that this is going on, and the human-alien connection is suddenly punishable, could you-"

"Keep distance with him?" you finished indifferently for Ieiri. "That's all I'm doing."

"No offense," Shoko said, refilling her empty glass. She had counted on this dialog, but right now it felt to her like two particles that were inevitably approaching each other only to collide with tremendous force and fly back to a distance whose extremes no measure known to mankind could reach. "And... No, I'm sure he'll try to break those boundaries more than once," Shoko knew him, and she was sure he would break those boundaries relentlessly and very brazenly - it was only a matter of time. "You just don't fall for it, okay?"

"Whatever," you'd already spent your whole life doing nothing but running, but next to him the landmark kept getting knocked off and you'd end up in his hands.

"I'm just...," Shoko began, hesitating, and it was the first time you'd heard her sound anxious. "I'm just worried about him," she admitted on an exhale and immediately muffled the confession with wine - dry and sour, which washed away any anxiety. "Even though that asshole spent half his conscious life talking about being alone, I've always been there for him."

"Shoko," you turned to her confusedly. "I think ya just meant two different lonelinesses."

"Maybe," she nodded, wiping a drop of alcohol from the corner of her lips. "But it doesn't make me feel any better."

The lonely gifts that had been lying on the table all this time were finally waiting for their time. When Shoko had almost finished the bottle, there was laughter and shouts from downstairs, hurried stomping and the creaking of metal stairs, and when the door opened, the whole party was in the same room with you.

You squinted suspiciously at Itadori's slightly askew and reddish face, then shifted your gaze to the same Yuta, only he was different from Yuji in that he was very embarrassed, while Megumi stood aside and pretended not to know these people. Only Nobara, ever combative and restless, greeted you cheerfully. "Hey," you grinned softly and stood up from your chair, pushing the gifts closer to the edge of the table. Nobara, completely shocked, pointed a finger questioningly at her, which made you shyly duck your gaze and laugh. It took only a nod from you for her to immediately dismiss her stunned expression and grab the larger box.

As she unwrapped the gift, you unconsciously grabbed the glass and sipped the wine, and a subdued warmth spread inside, shifting your excitement. "Holy…," the girl drawled mesmerized, gently moving the folds of delicate silk in her hands. The dress was simple, fitted and strappy, but she was primarily fascinated by its chromatic color - it shimmered incessantly from blue to emerald, each color wanting to draw attention to itself as it flowed relentlessly through the silk. "It's worth as much as an airplane wing," Nobara whispered, unable to tear her hands from the dress, though an inner voice screamed at her not to dare touch it with her dirty fingers.

"There's a receipt in the box," you said, touching the blush on your cheeks - it seemed tangible. "If anything, ya can exchange it or get a refund-"

"Thank you!" she exclaimed enthusiastically, throwing herself around your neck. You, overwhelmed with shyness and breathless, barely found the strength to hug her back. "If this is how you express your love, I'm all for it," she smiled, patting you on the back.

Another gift made her pull away from you - otherwise, she would have been hanging around your neck. You somehow reached the chair on weak legs and plopped down, taking the bottle from Shoko and filling your glass with the rest of the wine.

It turned out to be not so difficult. You were delighted by their almost unfamiliar smiles, delighted by their words of gratitude, but none of them suspected the pain of that rapture. Your fingers shook, your throat tightened, and you couldn't make a sound - you'd been in unemotional oblivion for so long that you seemed to have forgotten how to control yourself. 'Breathe,' you ordered yourself, rubbing your throat. 'It's okay.'

Before you could take a sip, you squeezed your eyes shut at the shrill scream of the girl. There was stomping and clattering, and it sounded like every chair in the vicinity was falling, and you were afraid to open your eyes. "Get them off me!" screamed Nobara hysterically, and you opened your eyes to see her pummeling Itadori with everything she could reach. It wasn't until you saw the many tiny spiders that were scattered across the table that you realized what had happened. "Rip them off me, or I'll rip your skin!" she demanded, desperately trying to shake off the invisible spiders.

"I'm trying!" echoed Yuji in her voice.

Yuji shook Nobara off with all his might, spinning her from side to side, though his own eyes were full of terror. Yuta was not trying to crush the arthropods as a kind-hearted man should, but to catch them. Megumi, on the other hand, sat down on a chair while watching this spectacle. All he was missing was the popcorn. "That wasn't your present, was it?" asked Shoko meaningfully.

You clicked your tongue lazily, shaking the wine in your glass and watching the tiny spider swaying on those burgundy waves. "Nope," you replied, pursing your lips.

When your whole body began to itch involuntarily, feeling the phantom (or not) stomping of little paws, you realized - they wouldn't forgive you. Maybe you deserved this setup. Maybe now you'll both have the same reputation whether you start making excuses or not. Or maybe the kids will figure it out for themselves, like Shoko did.

Walking over to the sink, you poured the wine along with the spider, pulling your phone out of your pocket. "I wanna break something beautiful," you muttered, typing a message.

[16:29] Mochi: u sleeping in the gutter tonight 

Not the kind of message Gojo expected to get from you. Even considering the fact that you'd had a bit of a fight. With one last look at the screen, he quickly tucked the phone into his pocket, stopping himself from trying to apologize again. First, he needed to finish what he'd come here to do. 

In all his time as a sorcerer, he was used to seeing landscapes like this. He was used to it, but he still didn't want to. There was almost nothing left of the small village - no houses, no trees, no livestock, no inhabitants. There were no more voices, no more dreams or hopes - it was all burning with blue flames. Branches and bone ash crunched beneath his feet, and Gojo only looked around, sensing the thin veil of cursed energy. 

His thoughts were not here, not among the dozens of lost souls, but with you. The sorcerer could still feel your confusion and your awkward and desperate attempts to get him to talk, and oh gods, how embarrassed he was. Gojo had long ago learned how to talk and get on everyone's nerves, but he still hadn't learned how to talk. He remembered your frightened face when he'd said that ridiculous thing about the mask, and he wanted to bury his head in that scorched ground. 

He came to the fire that was burning more than the others and stopped at a pile of smoldering beams, laying on top of each other as if someone had just broken them down like a house of cards. He stepped carelessly over them and walked to where the cursed energy was growing as if playfully beckoning to him.

The sorcerer could still hear your footsteps that timidly followed him - it was only now that he realized he shouldn't have taken it out on you, shouldn't have been sarcastic, and when Gojo remembered how he'd mocked you, a lump came to his throat. Instead of taking his anger out on you, he should have asked you not to go, or at the very least, just let you go. When the last words rang in his head, Gojo slapped his cheeks and shook his head. 

As he approached the beam where the energy traces had led him, he grinned thoughtfully, kicking it aside - there was a tiny, barely visible scolopendra beneath it. It scurried, trying to get away, but not before Gojo grabbed it and held it up to his face, examining it. It didn't look much different from a normal millipede, except that its shell occasionally lit up with swamp-green streaks. "You're not the instigator of this whole mess, are you?" Gojo asked, twirling the wriggling scolopendra in his hand. "Pipsqueak," he chuckled, tossing it into the air and catching it deftly. 

There was something else amid the crackling of the fire and the rustling of leaves, though he could feel no one at his back. The flames were growing stronger and stronger, pulling their burning claws in every direction, wanting to spread and take over everything around them. It was clearly the work of someone bigger, but was it here, or had it cowardly fled when it saw the sorcerer on the horizon? "Tell me, is your mother still here?" cooed Gojo, and when the scolopendra began to reach for his palm with fierce force, clacking its jaws, his suspicions were dispelled, leaving only conviction behind. As if sensing his intentions, the millipede began to shriek, its shrill cry frozen in the hot air, and it merged with the ashes of the inhabitants it had destroyed. 

Gojo shook off the dust from the millipede and shoved his hands into his pockets. He moved forward a few feet, and the spot where he'd been standing exploded, fire splintering through the clear air. When he turned around, he saw a scolopendra of unbelievable size standing on its haunches, legs flapping. Its jaws snapping, it lowered itself, ducking as if preparing for another attack. "Where were you when I killed your child? What the hell kinda mother are you?" he grinned mockingly, reaching for the blindfold, but when his fingers touched the fabric, Gojo froze. 

It was immature and childish, beyond anything the sorcerer had ever pulled off. Maybe the plan wasn't meant to work, or maybe it would get you to stay with Gojo for a little while longer. He couldn't accept his behavior, and there was no longer any confidence in him that you would continue to accept him like that either. "You know, though," he turned to curse, grinning sadly and removing his hands from the blindfold. "I think I'll let you hit me once."  

Were you guilty of being deceived once? Was it your fault that you didn't see his true nature right away? Perhaps you should have been grateful - thanks to him and his unconventional ways, he'd gotten the power out of you, or rather forced it into existence. It was a power Rei feared himself - how did he live with the idea that he was the reason the hunters had gotten so close to them? Was he familiar with the feeling of regret? Was he familiar with anything human or was he always pretending to be?

There was only an hour left before the meeting - the most desirable and the most frightening. You'd spent the day in prostration, unable to grasp a single thought - it was as if your head was filled with a viscous absorbent cotton, tamping down your prudence. You tried to focus, looking at yourself in the mirror, but there was only one question - what kind of person would Ray see you as? Would he be pleased, or on the contrary, would he look at you with eyes full of disappointment? Will you remain his liebe after this meeting, or will you become a pet again?

It made you sick to think about it, and you didn't know why you were still looking to this creature for praise and recognition. What he'd done to you was right in front of you in your own reflection, but it was as if you were blind, your eyes no longer seeing the scars or the time you'd spent imprisoned.

Were you beautiful enough? Were you strong enough? Anything could upset him, from messy mascara-molded eyelashes to mannerisms. Ray never said what behavior he liked - what pleased him yesterday became an excuse for lashings tomorrow. You couldn't figure him out, and he remained a blurry silhouette that hurt you forever, only occasionally patting your head gently.

You shuddered, nearly dropping the hairbrush from your hands, when the door to the workroom swung open. When you saw Gojo holding his side and clutching at the wall, leaving bloody marks on it, you thought you were dying yourself. "Hey, hey," you whispered quietly, running up to him and throwing his arm over your shoulder. You frowned, sensing that he was much lighter than he looked, but you didn't realize that he wasn't actually leaning on you, only pretending to. 

After dragging Gojo to the bed, you laid him down on the white sheets, ignoring the dirt. "What... What happened?" you asked in a faltering voice. 

"Nothing serious," he grinned weakly, and you couldn't realize how genuine his smile was - his eyes were still hidden by the blindfold. You'd never seen him like this before. "I guess after the fight with Sukuna, my reverse technique still refuses to work as it should."

"I'll get Shoko," you stated anxiously, rising from your knees.

He stopped you by taking hold of your wrist - his grip wasn't so much weak as gentle. "I called her," he lied sincerely. "She's not home, said she wouldn't be here for another hour and a half at best."

"How come...," you exhaled nervously, holding your head. "I just talked to her literally a couple hours ago," your train of thought was interrupted by a cough, deep and hoarse, the kind that could cut one's throat. "Doc's not here either, it's Friday," you whispered, on the verge of a breakdown, and plopped back on the floor in front of the bed.

"He has an official day off?" he asked playfully, swallowing more blood than saliva. "Lucky him."

"Shut up," you cut him off sternly. As you began to carefully but quickly unbutton the jacket of his uniform, it came to him that the real lucky one was himself. As you unbuttoned the jacket, you saw a huge bloody stain on the side of his jacket that completely soaked the shirt. Holding your breath, you grabbed the edges of the T-shirt and began to slowly pull it up, the bloodier picture emerging as you did so.

It was as if someone or something had torn a piece of him off. There was an intact hip bone visible among the mess of innards - you covered your eyes and felt saliva start to pool in your mouth. "Okay," you said quickly. "You have two options. Either the old-fashioned way, with a surgical needle and thread, or... dark energy."

Gojo frowned unhappily when you mentioned a sharp object. "The second option," he said firmly. 

"Ya sure?" you asked gently and sympathetically. "The first time can be very painful."

"I feel like a maiden on her wedding night," the sorcerer giggled, but you didn't even have to appraise him coolly - the karma had caught up with him. He sucked in air through clenched teeth as he felt a sharp pain in his side. "Doc's treated me before, right? So it wouldn't be the first time."

"Ya were unconscious then," you scratched the back of your head thoughtfully, but realizing that he had chosen his own fate, you didn't interfere and decided for him. You started to open all the drawers of the bedside table, but you found alcohol wipes. Wiping your hands clean, you took a couple of deep breaths, trying to concentrate. Gojo wasn't ready for this - , for some reason it hadn't occurred to him that in the case of dark energy you'd touch him. "Oh shit," you whined, annoyed. "I forgot to bring a towel." 

"What's that for?"

"Then for ya to get it between your teeth," he laughed in your face again, and your patience broke. Okay, since he thought he was the strongest and most invincible, let him prove it.

The sorcerer felt the warmth of your hands long before you intended to place them on his wounded torso. He heard your shuddering breath and began to shiver himself as if in the embrace of a blood-chilling cold, but he was not satisfied with any embrace but yours. He was afraid to look at you, and he wanted to laugh out loud at how scared he was that you would suddenly disappear, taking away everything you had once given him.

When you touched his aching torso, Gojo was ready to give himself up - a quiet, unintentional moan was already there, right on his lips, and he could almost feel what your touch tasted like, but a sudden wave of agony tossed him aside, mockingly taking away the moment of long-awaited intimacy. The incredible pain was embodied in a stifled, muffled scream.

When the very first and most agonizing moment had passed, Gojo, drained of his strength, collapsed onto the pillow, breathing intermittently. "You...," he began, panting - his chest heaving in and out haphazardly. "Do you put up with this every time?"

"We get used to it eventually," you chuckled softly, still touching him and letting the dark energy spread over the sore spot.

"God bless reverse technique," Gojo exhaled in relief, making the sign of the cross. 

"Eh? Aren't ya a Buddhist?" you asked suspiciously, frowning your eyebrows.

"At that point, I didn't care who I prayed to at all," he whimpered, pulling himself up. "How much longer is it?" Gojo asked grudgingly, feeling a tingling and burning sensation in his side.

"Nope," you said, and he dejectedly hung down his head, realizing you'd soon remove your hands and rob him of your warmth.

You watched the dark lines spread smoothly across him, snaking back and forth, creeping up and down his pale skin, crawling over his organs, forming new clumps of flesh and joining them together. "You... You don't want to see me?" asked Gojo weakly, wrapping his forefinger around yours.

"What makes ya say that?" you wondered, cocking your head.

"You're just now looking at me for the first time," he remarked, pursing his lips in embarrassment.

"Ah," it hit you. "Well, just...," you stammered involuntarily, realizing you couldn't even scratch the back of your head - your hands were still on his body. Remembering that, you shook your head, pushing away the thought that it wasn't getting any cooler, just continuing to burn the same way. "It's just the first time I've seen ya in a blindfold, and I honestly don't feel very comfortable."

The sorcerer, perking up, immediately pulled it off of him and smiled at the way you were looking at him just as you had before. "Is that better?" he asked softly, lifting up and resting his forehead against yours.

"Uh-huh," you chirped quietly, trying not to take your hand off him and interrupt the flow of dark energy.

He pulled away a little and looked at you, and for the first time you couldn't recognize what made his blue eyes shine so dimly. "I'll be fine. You should go," his actions contradicted his words - Gojo unconsciously pressed your palm harder against his body.

"I'm not done yet," you stated firmly, shoving him with your shoulder, ordering him to lie back down. "Ya'll probably have a high fever in a couple hours," to hell with Ray's expectations. To hell with his parenting methods. To hell with the pain he'd once caused you. You didn't want to be his pet or his liebe. If fate was fair, it will bring you two together, but you will not indulge him and dance to his tune. You've spent too long looking for him and running away from him at the same time, and even if it was your only chance to face him, you've never regretted it. Today, for the first time, you chose something more instead of revenge, albeit something completely forbidden to you, without thinking about the price you'd have to pay for it. "So I'm not going out tonight."

"Really?" the sorcerer didn't jump up in joy only because you were doing your best to hold him in place. "Mochi," he whispered into your head, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you close to him, a position that made your bent hands ache and made you grimace. "I know I acted like the asshole again. I know I have no right to pry into your personal life," his own confession came like a traitor - it hit Gojo in the solar plexus and made him gasp. "I know I had no right to lash out on you just because I got it in my head that you behaved wrongly. I mean, I... I'm still learning, really," he sighed, completely dissolving into you and no longer noticing the pain the dark energy was bringing him. "After all, it's a complicated thing. You know, this... What's it called..." 

"Communication?" you ask, chuckling into his shoulder.

"Yeah, right," he laughed in relief upon hearing your reaction. Gojo was almost disappointed in himself when he remembered his recent slipping thoughts. How could he have thought you would just up and leave him? "By the way," he whispered slyly in your ear, intending to give you a slight shiver. "You do realize that you have to marry me after this?" 

"You can only dream without the sparkling ring," you said just as slyly, and he could almost feel you patting him comfortingly on the shoulder, though your palms were still on his torso. It was just a joke to you, but Gojo, feeling his face burning, was already mentally in the jewelry store. "Okay," you blurted out, and pulling your hands away from him, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and laid him on the bed. "Lie still. I'll be right back."

Before, Gojo would have died rather than show himself to anyone like this, almost defeated and helpless. He'd never imagined what caring looked or felt like, but now he knew all about it, still feeling your slightly rough palms on him. He worried like a child, waiting for you, hands clasped on his chest and feet kicking as if to the beat of some song as you swarmed into the bathroom. He was glad he'd missed the feeling before, and that you were the one who'd been the one to make him stop and look around. "Take your top off," you ordered, returning and holding a wet towel in your hands. 

"Take me to dinner first," he muttered in reply, wrapping up the jacket of his uniform.

His grunt woke up a slumbering memory of days gone by. "Actually, ya were supposed to do that," you muttered almost resentfully to yourself, remembering how you'd yelled into your backpack in Shibalba. "I was just gonna wipe ya, but since ya're a chaste man, ya'll do it yaself," you announced cheerfully, tossing the towel right in his face.

"Me and my big mouth," the sorcerer sighed and pulled off his T-shirt. You almost whistled under your breath and wondered about the room - how long had it been since the light ceiling had turned so gray? As you came to life, you realized how silly a statue like you looked right in the middle of the room. Gathering your strength and suppressing your impudence, you walked over to the bed and flopped down on the floor again, trying not to stare at his body. If Gojo noticed, it would only be a new reason for ridicule. "You really weren't scared?" he asked quietly, hurt, taking his time wiping the blood from his skin. Before that curse, the sorcerer had shown nothing but his own superiority even when he bled - and so it was with others who got in his way or got behind his back with the sole intention of doing so. Until recently, strength had been his only ally, but that relationship couldn't save Gojo from himself, lost and stuck somewhere in between, forever justifying his position with the fact that he alone was honored one. "Weren't you scared at all that I came home barely alive?" he continued, not raising his eyes to you. It's a strange feeling. Having shown hurt in front of another person, he hadn't disappeared, turned to dust, and no one had pierced his heart. An alliance with strength always demanded reciprocation, but weakness held him without demanding anything in return. Gojo swallowed involuntarily as he waited for your answer, and with a glimpse of you, he resigned to it. His weakness had your face.  

"So what's to worry about if ya came alive?" you asked, shrugging.

"Next time I'll come dead," he grumbled, frowning, and wiped away the rest of the blood. When he set the bloody towel aside, you were about to reach for it, but Gojo caught your hands and lifted you up, throwing you into the bed beside him. "Really, Mochi," he smiled warmly, brushing the strands from your face. "Are you afraid of anything?"

"Well...," you drawled uncertainly, squirming and trying not to touch his naked body parts. "I think it's a bit of an irrational fear because it's gonna come true one way or another," you chuckled, and he didn't catch a note of sadness in your laugh. "Ya know, I... I'm afraid of missing out on a lot in this life," you admitted honestly, almost burying your face in the pillow with embarrassment. 

"Why?" he grinned softly. "Quite a good fear, there's nothing to be embarrassed about," he encouraged you, trying to draw you back out - after all, he didn't often have to witness your shyness.

"And ya?" you ask suddenly, taking Gojo by surprise. "Are ya afraid of anything?" 

The most expected answer in the world followed. "Nope," he drawled contentedly and haughtily, hiding any doubt behind a wide smile. The sorcerer had long ago admitted it to himself, but was unprepared to tell you - he was as afraid of saying it out loud as he was of your reaction. He hadn't been able to identify those touches that had sent shivers through him earlier, but now he could describe with precision how cold the fear of loss was.

"Even spiders?" you asked slyly, raising an eyebrow - he immediately flinched, realizing what you meant.

"I do repent," he murmured, and grabbing a pillow, held it against him like a shield.

"Ya'll tell Nobara tomorrow that it was your gift," you muttered indignantly, remembering the commotion in the living room.

"Your wish is my command, my lady," he agreed easily. In the pause, Gojo found the right moment for a transparent hint. "Mochi, listen... Have you thought of going back to that nightclub?" he suggested, his hidden doubt dispelling your confusion.  

You, surprised by the question and how your thoughts coincided, nodded your head. "Thought so. Actually, for your amusement, I wanna tell ya that ya were right back then," you admitted, cautiously expecting a tease, but there wasn't even a squirm on his part. "So I wouldn't mind going there again, this time without being too careful." 

"Good," Gojo chirped, snuggling up to you. You felt his pale skin blazing, and mentally swore as you obediently accepted this blessing or curse with blue eyes that didn't want to leave you for a moment. 

The carpets spread out under the chairs made them look softer. It looked as if this office had been made for a very old man - everywhere you stepped, there were places to sit down. Surprisingly, there were no windows - no beautiful views of the city or the river at night, just blank walls that looked like they were about to start coming together. You were genuinely puzzled by the levitating books, but when you got closer, you saw that there was nothing surprising about them - they weren't flying, just standing on a transparent shelf that blended in with the brick wall.

There was even a personal bar counter, which was loaded with dozens of unopened expensive bottles - all the same, an interior decoration without any functionality. It seemed to be just an area for negotiations or just a pleasant pastime for the club owner away from the loud music and sweaty, heated bodies.

Your attention was drawn to the marble archway, and everything beyond it was hidden behind a heavy, dark emerald curtain. You didn't have time to skulk that way - Gojo was right ahead of you, swinging the curtain open in his own way. "What do we have here?" he chirped, stepping inside. 

The space here was cramped and dark, almost intimate. There was only a wide, corduroy sofa and a table in front of it. At first you thought the table glowed, but when you looked at its surface more closely, you realized that it was actually made of a thousand tiny prehnites. They were glowing. There was an unfinished glass of whiskey and an empty wine glass with dark scarlet lipstick on it, and there was an ashtray, still smoking, and you wondered as you saw the laptop. Was it the same one?

"Okay," Gojo clapped his hands happily, and you cocked your head in surprise. He walked over to the table, and, going around it, sat down on the couch. The sorcerer remained true to his impatience - the laptop was immediately open.

"What is it?" you asked, coming closer and sitting down on the armrest. 

"Password, which is to be expected," he scratched his chin thoughtfully, looking at the blank line of input. "You take a look around for now, and we'll deal with it."

"We?" you interjected, squinting skeptically.

"Me and Meg, of course," Gojo grinned, pulling an earbud out of the case. "You'd better keep an eye on me, or someone might take me away."

You froze for a second at this unexpected collaboration. "Okay," you said, still dumbfounded, then turned and walked away, looking around the office.

It looked exactly the same as it had five minutes ago - expensively furnished but unremarkable, almost empty, the only precious thing here was your time. You kicked back all the rugs that were here, but there was nothing underneath but accumulated dust. You even opened a few sealed bottles, but it really just turned out to be alcohol. Your hands were itching to do some real vandalism - you wanted to rip through every chair for anything, but you stopped yourself and headed back to Gojo. 

Looking around the small and hidden room once more, you only now saw the painting hanging to the right of the couch - how could a person working here be forever under such a gloomy and blank stare from a pale girl?

As you moved closer to the painting, you gently ran your hands over the canvas as the girl seemed about to squirm from the unwanted touch. Your palms felt not a single scratch, not a single bump or imperfection. You tried to remove the painting, but it was fixed to the wall as if it had limbs, and it held on as best it could. With a hum, you felt the dagger in your hand.

When Gojo heard a tearing sound almost under his ear, he glanced in that direction, but before he could realize and understand what was happening, he was back to his laptop. It wasn't until a couple seconds later that the sorcerer realized what he had seen, and he turned around sharply. "Calm down one minute, will you?" exasperated Gojo, watching you slash at the edges of the painting canvas.  

"I was just about to break something beautiful yesterday," you justified, crumpling the canvas and tossing it aside - the silver frame was still hanging on the wall, only now instead of a painting on the wall there was... A safe. "Hmm...," you drawled, tapping on the metal surface. "Can ya give me a hand?" you turned around and, smiling happily, pointed a thumb behind your back.

Gojo looked at you with a steady gaze, his eyebrows raised - you looked like a child who was always mischievous, but he didn't have a drop of anger inside to give you. Behind you, there was a deafeningly loud click and thud.

The safe door didn't look blown up - one side of the door was torn to shreds, like the jaws of a predatory beast. Standing up on your toes and peering inside, you saw that it was stuffed to the brim with money - those wads of bills closer to the lock were torn and no longer of any value. "Well, we're not leaving here empty-handed at least," you murmured contentedly, taking a step back - you took one last look at the money and sat down next to Gojo on the couch, tucking your legs under you. "Anything interesting?" you asked, peering at the screen.  

"In fact, it's so transparent it's boring," Gojo admitted honestly, sighing. "No money laundering, no fake financial statements, no shady dealings," he muttered, running his eyes over the lines of yet another document. "But there is something," he clicked his tongue, opening another tab. "Does the name S&M mean anything to you?" asked Gojo, looking at you closely. 

"Uh...," you pondered, looking not in front of you, but inside yourself. "No," you shook your head, still not remembering anything, and pressed your lips together. "What is it?" 

"All the financial records show the same account," Gojo said, scratching his temple. "It belongs to S&M Construction Company, and Meg already made a bank statement, look," he opened the statement and you stared at it. "They seem to be the ones sponsoring this club," Gojo ran his finger down the leftmost column where the construction company's account appeared. "Right here is the personal account for this nightclub," he pointed to the rightmost column. "All the transfers match all the documentation," Gojo said, looking at you warily, but you, trying to make sense of all the symbols, didn't notice the worry in his eyes. "Except for one thing. There's an amount here that is very large and stands out from the rest, and it's not transferred to the club's account, but to the personal account," your gaze stopped on the line that stood out. Gojo gently, slowly took your hand in his, intertwining his fingers as if to keep you from falling.  

"What do ya think 161 million yen looks like?" you asked thoughtfully, swinging your legs over the table. The sudden dizziness had erased all clear images from your eyes, and you could barely make out the money in the safe. You, now realizing exactly what was there, turned around and stared at the statement again. That transfer was dated the day after Kyle's death.

"Maybe it's just a coincidence?" he suggested softly, not believing himself.

"Who...," you began, nearly swallowing all the words. "Who does this account belong to?"

"Mochi," he whispered. "Do you know someone named Takamura Yoichi?" when you nodded silently, Gojo realized that he had been following you all this time, not realizing that you were lost yourself. He would have been able to give you anything, tear out anyone's wings just to keep you from falling into the abyss right now. Even if the wings didn't save you, he was already ready to pull you back and, if need be, take your place altogether. "Meg, can you get the address of the head office?"

***

Everything she'd done seemed to have been for nothing. The ghosts of Danielle's deeds haunted her, cornered her, and when she slowed down because she was tired, it dug its sharp claws into her back, crept higher, leaving lacerating scratches, and finally reached her mind. Her legs and arms grew weak, and sometimes she couldn't hold a glass of water - she saw blood everywhere. Even on her own hands.

It was quiet, but not for her. Her ears were ringing, and it sounded like someone was sharpening knife blades right next to her, sparks flying in every direction, hitting her eyes and making them water. Her lips trembled as if there was nothing around her but immense cold and hunger, not even the warm, subdued light from the chandelier above her, and she felt as if she were the only one in the spotlight, defenseless, naked, unable to fight back.

When she was required to do something, she was usually found in unremarkable alleys, cheap and godforsaken eateries, but she had never been called directly to the office of a superior. How long has it been? Five minutes? Ten? Only Christian and Yoichi were here, and they hadn't said a word to her since Danielle had gotten here. The girl stood with her head bowed as if expecting to be hit.

It wasn't total silence - the men were talking quietly among themselves, and Danielle, unable to make out clear words, trembled again, the disorderly muttering seeming to prey on her, wanting to close its paws around her thin neck. "If you...," she began in a gray, thin voice, drawing attention to herself. "If ya have called me to give me a mission, I'm afraid that's impossible," she stated, coughing. "I am not of the old generation."

"Oh," Yoichi marveled, raising his eyebrows and flashing a smirk. "Did Y/N really put you through isolation by officially making you a voidrunner?" he asked, smiling wryly.

"No," Dany admitted weakly, biting her tongue.

"That's rather odd," the higher-up shook his head sympathetically. "You've been under her command for over five years now, and yet you still walk around as an apprentice. Is it because she doesn't trust you?" the girl's fragile conscience was splintering more and more with every word uttered. "Maybe she's doing the right thing after all?"

"Why did you call me?" she asked quietly, ready to do anything to make it stop, but unfortunately for her, wishes did have one very unusual, albeit rare quality - from time to time, they came true.

When Yoichi opened his mouth, Christian lightly held up his palm, telling him to shut up. "We just wanted to express our gratitude," he smiled softly, which warmed the girl - she almost stopped shaking. Christian took out a small briefcase from somewhere below and placed it on the table.

Dany stared at him in horror. "I'm not taking anything from ya," she shook her head desperately, involuntarily backing up a step. "I-I didn't do anything like that."

"Really?" wondered Christian sincerely. "You did, and a great deal," whereas before Danielle's memories had been separate entities catching up with each other, now they all came at once upon the girl. Her actions were very far from exploits and incredibly close to betrayal, and the realization, taking the form of tears, overtook her. "I know your performance was far from perfect, but it was your doing that put Y/N in the void without a watch or phone," he reminded her, shrugging indifferently. The floor beneath the girl's feet became a viscous and sticky soil, like a swamp. "But you didn't know she'd find her way out then. You're the one who got your boy talking about the void, and he got so into it that he ended up there, though you were worried sick about him," he savored the way the already fragile girl in front of him grew even smaller. "And on top of all the information you gave me, you're the one who made Y/N stay that day."

"No!" she bellowed hoarsely in his face, raising her head. "She... I wasn't the reason she didn't go on the raid that day," she sobbed raggedly, hiding from the two pairs of mocking eyes again. "I had nothing to do with that."

"Maybe," Christian agreed with her cordially. "But in the end it was you who reported that Kyle was coming, right?"

"Just tell me what ya need," she began choking, not daring to wipe away the tears that flowed relentlessly down her face.

"Well, stop crying, child," Christian consoled her. "Come up," Danielle, exhausted and embarrassed, obediently climbed the steps to the table. "As promised, that was your last assignment. We called you in today just to thank you, that's all," he soothed her in a soft, enveloping voice, and she, relieved that the viscous floor was no longer trying to drag her down, sobbed softly. " But since you don't want money, I'll just have to give you my gratitude. One more thing," he looked the girl carefully in the eyes. "We promise that Megumi won't be touched by anyone. You don't have to worry about that anymore."

Danielle nodded, barely aware of her surroundings. "Can I go now?" she asked barely audibly, mechanically.

Yoichi and Christian exchanged glances, the latter noticing nothing but predatory urging in the former's eyes. "Have fun," Christian smirked quietly, indicating the girl with a nod.

Yoichi stepped around the table and leaned on it, stopping beside the girl. She didn't raise her head, her face hidden behind golden hair that had lost its shine, now resembling straw rather than jewelry. Removing a strand of hair from her face, he saw her glassy gaze, but it wasn't empty at all - terror and fear swam in it. "Since you've already stirred in the dirt, you're not going to say no to me, are you?"

She had no strength to resist. She felt neither hands nor feet, remembered neither her aspirations nor her desires. All she wanted when she was roughly taken by the neck and leaned against the table was death, to be rid of those slippery hands that had torn her blouse from her back and were clutching her body. The tainted places fused like metal - the girl wanted to just melt away, to dissolve, to get rid of suffering and torment, but every painful thrust brought her back to reality, forcing her to memorize every humiliating moment.

Christian could not take his eyes off her naked, defenseless back as if it was begging to be torn off. She didn't even scream or beg for help - she just whimpered and sobbed quietly, which made him want to praise her. He loved obedient pets that accepted their fate favorably.

With a satisfied hum under his nose, Christian got up from the table and headed for the exit, no longer paying a second of his attention to the torment of the other person, small and fragile, who seemed about to fall apart without leaving a bloody stain behind. As he stepped outside and closed the wide doors behind him, Rei was pleased with what had happened - he was long overdue to remind you of the consequences of your worthless stubbornness.

This feeling was fickle, windy. It would abandon you, then come again and make you work even harder, taking away your peace and sleep. It was acting on your nerves, constantly breaking them, then exploding in your imagination with bright realistic colors, made you calm down, leaving behind a bitter taste of unrealization. Revenge roamed around you, humming its cold songs, reciting its relentless mantras, but as soon as you turned to it, it ran away. As soon as you gave up on it, it crawled back again, begging for forgiveness.

Hundreds of windows looked down at you from the skyscraper, each with its own eyes, its own thoughts, and its own life left behind. Glass shone brightly, shimmering in the sunset light as if trying to remind you of what life was really like, but you saw no other color than retribution.

It was his own choice, and you couldn't accept it. You wanted to beg and demand that Gojo leave everything else to you, but he followed you everywhere - you were beginning to choke on the feeling that you couldn't escape. You were torn by insecurity under the oppression of blue eyes from which there was no hiding. A simple desire, hidden in the unchanging silence - you wanted to be alone, not thinking for a moment about what would happen to you if you were really abandon. 

Gojo never voiced his concerns aloud, only held your hand in his persistently and annoyingly as you stealthily passed the reception desk and made your way up the interior fire escape. You were annoyed. No, rather you were angry - a feeling that roamed to depths no ordinary man could reach, but a sorcerer never was. In your touch, weak and almost squeamish, Gojo felt he had no place here, but he couldn't leave you alone with something dark, always wandering around, wanting to lure you in and then tear you apart. It would take on a clear shape, and then it would dissolve back into transparent smoke, leaving no chance for the sorcerer to reach out and be the first to kill. All he had to do was get on your nerves, not letting go of your hand, and keep silent about the fact that his rage was much stronger than yours. Someone was trying to take away his sacred creature, but for the first time, Gojo didn't have the strength to do anything about it.  

When you got to the right floor, the sorcerer was ahead of you. Gojo opened the door with a light movement, hiding you behind his back - there was a pleasant bustle on the floor. The employees, tired and happy, were about to go home. Some of them were discussing how and where they would meet and where they would eventually go. Some of them said that there were delicious food just around the corner, others objected, telling about some bar that had huge discounts on alcoholic cocktails. Gojo whistled, drawing everyone's attention to himself. "Where's the head's office?" 

"Further down the hall...," one of the employees said dazedly, pouring herself some water from the cooler.

"And who the hell are you?" bellowed a man suspiciously in your direction, already wearing a coat - the sorcerer, without thinking, squeezed your hand harder, and you ran. "Hey!" yelled the man in your wake.

The corridor felt infinitely long. It seemed as if there were no people running behind you. Your heart refused to beat - it was tired of the eternal worry and tossing, the doubts and fears. The door was near and it was only a short distance away, but you felt as out of breath as you had ever felt before - no days in the void could compare to this moment. Were you ready to plunge the dagger into Rei's heart? Or would you be too weak as you always were? 

The open door sounded like a gunshot. There was no one in the room, nothing but the table where the note had been laid. You smirked wistfully, wiping at your eyes - note was akin to an eyesore. Pushing away everything that kept you afloat, from hope to Gojo's hand, you walked over to the desk and picked up the piece of paper. After a moment's hesitation, you turned it over and were greeted by a refined, painfully familiar and mocking handwriting.

"You're late for dinner, liebe."

You had money to pay him back. You had jewelry to throw in his face. You had a soul to sell. But you knew what Rei would take his payback with, and he would do it gradually, agonizingly long, painfully twisting your swords. Maybe you really should have just given up, then none of this would have happened. It was all your fault, and your selfish desire to live.

The phone vibrated in your pocket and brought you back to reality. Seeing the doc's name, you answered the call. "Speak," you gritted through your teeth, crumpling the note in your hand.

"Go home. Now," he ordered and immediately hung up.

You knew that this was just the beginning, but what hurt the most was that you had just been twisted like a puppet, and then all the strings and limbs were ripped off, leaving you lying in the corner, unable to do anything about it. You could only hope that someone would find you, pick you up and glue you back together, and do it so firmly and carefully that no force could break you again.

But as you lay there alone, all you could do was store up the rage inside, and the more there was, the more it festered, growing and leaving behind bloody trails that obscured all common sense.

Revenge, baring its venomous fangs, has once again sunk into your heart.

You, frightened and out of breath, were stunned to find yourself here in the alley. That same cotton candy tent stood far away, though it was still visible. What just happened? How could you have moved here so quickly? "Hey," someone behind your back said and put a hand on your shoulder - you, choking on the flame that burned your chest, recoiled in fear and backed away.

A strange man stood before you. He was scrutinizing you carefully, almost caringly as if he was afraid that he might hurt you with his light touch, or was it something else you didn't know? "Don't be afraid of me," he said softly, squatting down. You, having learned from Frank's stories about strangers, were ready to run or pounce on him. You watched cautiously as the man bowed his head - you couldn't quite make out his face. "I have to show you something to make you believe me," you didn't have time to step or squeak - the man raised his head, and you met his dark, all-consuming eyes.

You no longer felt the stuffiness of that day - this man dispelled it with his voice, which was akin to a cool breeze. "Who are ya?" you were still as frightened, but intrigue took over, and you remained standing with the man in the alley.

"You know what I am," the man smirked softly, rising. "A demon, of course," there wasn't an ounce of malice or predation in his voice, his eyes didn't scream that he wanted to tear you apart - the kind of picture Frank had never told you about. "At least that's what the hunters call us," he added as if he'd read your mind. "In truth, though... I'm a part of you, you might say. As you are mine," the man smiled warmly as your fear was replaced by confusion. "And we have many such parts."

"What are ya talking about?" you alarmed, shaking your head. "I... I'm not like ya. I'm not...," feeling tears come to your eyes, you quickly brushed them away with your hand. "I'm sorry, I' have to go," you apologized, stepping awkwardly from foot to foot.

"Are you sure you want to go back to them?" you paused when you heard his attentive tone and heart-piercing question. Turning around, you met the same black eyes that held no spite in them. "Next to them, you can't even laugh normally, can you?" the stranger sighed sympathetically, examining you. "Believe me, I know the feeling," the man stated, and you, suddenly feeling the truthfulness of his words in your chest, could no longer budge. "The feeling that you don't belong here. The feeling that you have to constantly hold back just to be accepted as an equal," you couldn't tell if those were actually your true emotions. You felt as if someone was ordering you to experience this gamut of feelings that overlapped one on top of the other. "You can come with me," he said firmly, letting you know that for the first time in your life you had an escape route.

You turned around, anxious and worried again. Frank was already outside that tent, talking to the salesman, gesturing vigorously - even from here you could see that he was worried. Kyle and Rach were nowhere to be seen. Where'd they go? Had they noticed you were missing? "I know this isn't an easy choice for you," the man sighed understandingly, looking with you at the people you hold dear. "But next to us, you'll be able to laugh when you want to," he continued to pull the threads of your thoughts as he pleased. "You'll be able to cry when you're hurt or sick. And no one," he pressed the last word. "No one will dare judge you for who you are."

Whoever you really were, some part of you really wasn't from around here. It didn't belong to this world, and this world didn't belong to her. Always suspended, standing in the middle, not knowing which way to go. Constantly holding back it's hearty laughter and genuine tears, just so it wouldn't hurt anyone. Will they miss you if you leave? Or would they breathe a full sigh, getting rid of the burden that they never raised their hand to kill before? "Fine," you said hollowly, watching as Frank slapped the counter with force. Though n if they genuinely loved you, it couldn't make them safe from that entity inside you that didn't love anyone.

"Really?" marveled the man joyfully. Deep down, he didn't expect you to agree so easily - he was ready to persuade you further, to give you arguments, but as a special method of persuasion, there was a strand of red hair in one of his hands, hidden behind his back, and as soon as you agreed, it immediately turned to dust. You seemed to be obedient as it was. "You can call me Rei," he said, holding out his palm to you. You took it and felt a lightness as if the emotions that had been built up in your soul were immediately released, making room for a new future. "Come, liebe. I have much more to show you."

next ⊳

[mechazushi]

Insane Dad Lore (Essential Errand)

[Slight Trigger Warning] Verbal Abuse.

[Notes] Sooooo.... change of plans.... Instead of posting the chapters in order even if I get them done out of order, I'm just going to post them as I finish them and then organize them once I port all the chapters to Ao3. Really, the ultimate goal here was to just get all the ideas on (electronic) paper anyway. So I guess ya'll are going to have fun wondering what order these are going to go in, {cuz' I'll be doing the same damn thing ᕙ (° ~ ° ~)}

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There had been a break in the lore gathering where there wasn't as many an opportunity to try and pry some new childhood history out of Kafka. That didn't mean there wasn't inciting incidents that led to new loose threads. It was after an early morning period of training did such an event arose. Reno and Kafka has just gotten back to barracks after hitting the gym just to come back and find Minase in a state of inconsolable crying. Hakua was sitting next to a tower of shaking blankets placed on the bed, desperately trying to appease the distraught soldier within by patting and rubbing its back as well as whispering words of comfort. She tried to say comforting things at least, but must have accidentally said something to make the crying worse.

"Hey, is everything okay?" Reno tried to ask as they passed through the door.

"I'm not entirely sure? I just caught the tail end of a phone conversation and now she's like this." Hakua told them as she continued to hug the pile of blankets close, "Whatever it was, it sounded pretty distressing."

"Hey, Reno?" Kafka spoke softly down to his friend, not wanting to take his eyes of of their compatriot, "Can you do me a favor and go down to the vending machine and grab a water? I feel like she's going to need it."

Reno nodded quickly and turned back out the doorway, leaving Kafka. He approached Hakua and nodded his head away, silently asking permission to sit on the bed next to Minase. After she moved, Kafka sat down slowly so as to not make the pile of blankets jump. He mimiced Hakua's original position and wrapped his large arm around the tower, Squeezing it close to him as he tried to wrap his other arm around it.

"Heeeyyy, Minase." He said cheerfully, but not loudly, "Looks like you're not having a good go of things, huh?" The covered pile only continued to cry.

"Bad days are no fun, aren't they?" He chuckled in an attempt to brighten the mood, "It's safe to say that there's never going to be a shortage of those. You wanna know what makes me feel better about them though?" He tried to ask the sad menagerie of stolen blankets. It had stopped full on crying and had downgraded to some small sniffles.

"Much like our tears, it can't be raining all the time. Otherwise we wouldn't be able to see the sun!" He smiled brightly as the pile continued to sniff harshly. Eventually, a very red face with pink, tear stained eyes managed to poke her face out from under the blankets.

"Wow, are you corny." Minase said through a mixture of tearful snorts and half-efforted chuckles.

"Got our resident Sun to poke her pretty little head out, didn't it?" Kafka joked back as he gently tugged the edge of the blanket off from around her hair.

She giggled a little in return as she leaned in harder into Kafka's embrace. Seeing Minase in a more relaxed state that what she was in earlier, Hakua took the opportunity to seat herself behind Minase and lean her weight against her back as a show of support. They all took a few minutes of the calm for themselves, just letting their friend take deep soothing breaths and let the last of her tears drain from her eyes. Reno came in after Minase had gotten her heart under control and gladly took the offered water bottle. He had decided to sit on the floor in between Kafka's legs and Minase's.

"Want us to grab anything for you? I think they're selling strawberry ice cream fish cakes in the canteen." Hakua offered as a helpful gesture. Minase's tears almost triggered again as she thought about the offer.

"Sound's great." She said bitterly, "But I think I would rather have my dogs right now."

"Oh, you have dogs?" Reno asked innocently. He started to cringe and think he said something wrong once Minase started to cry again.

"Not for much longer apparently!" She wailed, "I think my horrible step-father is threatening to kill my dogs!" She tried to wipe her tears with the edge of the soiled blanket, but it wasn't very effective.

"Now why would someone do something like that?" Kafka asked, astonished at the thought.

"I don't know! I think he's just always had it out for me since he came into the family!" Minase's tears had slowed, but her sorrowful screams hadn't, "I had them stay with Aunti Mei before I left for the defense force, but apparently her new landlord is evicting the pets at her place, so she had to drop them off back at mom's, but Chase hates me; he's always hated me! And now he's taking it out on my bubbies!"

"Oh, baby…" Hakua said softly as she tried to give Minase a hug from behind.

"I just got off the phone with him, I don't even know how he got my number, but it's just… something he said, or how he said it… I don't know, I just feel like my babies aren't safe anymore!" She began to cry again as Kafka held her even harder, "I can't bring them here! I don't have any other relatives nearby to send them too! I refuse to send them to a shelter! I don't know what to do!"

As she continued to cry again, Reno could see Kafka's expression growing darker and darker. He had tucked Minase's head into his chest as he listened to her woes. Reno started to wonder if maybe it was so she couldn't see the quiet anger building up behind his eyes. Suddenly, like someone had flipped a switch in his head, Kafka donned as soft smile, one that barely managed to hide the softly rolling fury behind his expression. He brought a hand up to gently pat the top of her head. With a clearly sincere tone, Kafka spoke some more sweet words until she stopped crying again. When he could hear the hiccuping had slowed, he pulled her head back and made sure to look her in the eyes.

"Minase, I'm going to tell you this right now. You aren't going to worry your strong heart any longer, ya got me? Nothing is going to hurt your fluffy little friends, okay?" Minase just looked at him with a lot of burning questions in her eyes, but found that she didn't have the strength to say them.

"I wan't to hear you say 'Okay' too." Kafka gently placed both of his hands on either side of her face as he asked, "Please?"

"Oh-okay." she said meekly.

"Atta-girl." He responded as he gave her one last strong hug.

Kafka then looked at Hakua and gave her an expression that seemed to communicate a lot of things, most of which Reno just translated as 'Keep an eye on her'. He then got up loudly from the bed and stretched, groaning all the way. He walked over to his personal locker at the other side of the room and could be heard rummaging through it. Reno couldn't see what he was grabbing from his spot on the floor, but could definitely hear when he stopped going through his and suddenly started going through what he thought to be Aoi's.

"Sir, can I ask what you are doing?" Reno called out as he got up from the floor to investigate the weird behavior.

"Hm? Oh, just- uhh, changing into civilian clothes. I just remembered I had some business outside of base that I should probably take care of." Kafka said as he donned a large black jacket, thin gloves, a neck gaiter, and grabbed his over-sized black towel. The item he had seemed to grab from Aoi's locker was his spare set of combat boots.

"Okay… If it's just errands, then why do you need Aoi's boots? Aren't they bigger than your feet?" Reno continued to question as he followed Kafka out of the barracks and over to what appeared to be a supply closet.

"Oh, the boots? I-uh, noticed mine were pinching my feet, so I thought I'd take Aoi's for a spin." Kafka offered as an excuse, but Reno could tell what a poor excuse it was. It didn't distract him enough from questioning why Kafka was holding the door's handle a weird way and suddenly slamming his shoulder into it.

"Isn't that door locked?" Reno kept interrogating an uninterested Kafka. He didn't stop him once he somehow managed to bash the door open and walked inside like he owned everything.

"Only if you don't know how shittly made some of the doors are here on base." Kafka said nonchalantly as he scanned the shelves within. He found and grabbed a flat head screwdriver, a hammer, and a can of WD-40 and put them inside the towel before twisting the whole thing together and tying it in such a way as to not have the contents spill out.

"Hey, could you do me another favor? I know, I'm asking a lot today, but just this once? I'll even pay you back for the water bottle later, but first, could you help Hakua keep an eye on Minase while I'm gone?" Kafka asked as he left the supply closet and slung the impromptu bag over his shoulder.

"Wait, you're leaving now?" Reno asked as he followed him to the end of the hallway.

"Yeah, bud! I just said I had errands to do, didn't I? Don't worry, I'll be sure to tell Vice Cap where I'm going." Kafka said with an encouraging wink as he rounded the corner and quickly jogged out of sight.

Reno wasn't sure what was going on with his friend, but he was fairly certain it wasn't good. It certainly didn't make him feel better about knowing that Kafka was about to do it without him.

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It was about three am that night when Minase got woken up by another phone call. She shook the sleepy fog from her head as her pink flip-phone rang out it's cheery little chip tune. She grabbed her phone quickly and walked as fast as she could bring herself to in her groggy state out the barrack door. She walked a good distance away before sliding the device open and taking the call.

"Sweetie?" A familiar voice called out, not bothering to hide the distress it carried.

"Mom? Are you okay? What's going on?" Minase answered in a gravely tone, trying to get accustomed to understanding others on a lack of sleep.

"Listen Sweetie, I get you were upset at your father about what he said about the dogs-"

"He's not my dad." Minase interrupted in a quiet voice, knowing that her mother was just going to ignore the comment anyway,

"- But I don't think it warranted hiring a hit-man to get them!" Her mother whispered harshly. In the background, she could hear the sound of sirens and her step-father shouting at someone.

"Wait, what?" Minase asked as she rubbed her face.

"I understand you're attached to your little goobers, but Chase wasn't actually going to hurt them! He loves them too, he just has a hard time showing it and-"

"Mom, stop, back up. What was that about a hit-man?" Minase thought she had heard her mother wrong when she said something about a hit-man.

"A strange man broke into our house tonight and stole your dogs!" Her mom said as her quiet tone got increasingly shrill.

"Maybe start with that?!" Minase almost felt like she was shouting once she heard about the break-in.

"What, that someone stole the dogs? I thought I did?" her mom questioned.

"No-god, the break in! Someone broke in?" Minase's mind started to fray again. First with her step-father threatening her dogs and now this!

"Yes, I thought that was implied with the dog-napping?" her mother could be scatter-brained some days, but tonight was taking the cake. Minase was growling as she tried to think of her next question, but stopped once she heard her mother scuffling with someone on the other end of the line.

"god damn it woman just hand it here- YOU." A clearly irritated voice broke into the private conversation with an enraged bellow, "Listen here you dumb bitch, I get that being a Defense force officer might make you feel like such a big girl now, but getting one of your suped-up, mutant Kaiju super-freaks to come down here and take away your stupid mutts is a clear overstepping of where you stand in life! How many dicks did you have to suck off for that, Huh? Did you have to get on your hands and knees, bat your dull little eyes at the first dumb schmuck that would listen to you? It really speaks to the quality of your fellow members that if you were that desperate for your yippy rats, you somehow managed to find some deprived knuckle-dragger willing to dedicate some serious grey matter to this idiotic plan of yours and-"

"Shut up, just shut UP!" Minase yelled into her phone, "I didn't ask anyone to get my dogs back! No one even knows where you live because I actively try to forget you exist! We don't even have any mutant Kaiju hit-men for me to even bother sending out to your dilapidated rust bucket shed you call a house!"

"Oh yeah? Tell that to my right fist I just sent through someone's eye socket! Not to mention the fact the fridge has a dent in it now from where that stupid asshat sent me flying into it! Ya wanna come down and take a look at it and continue to be the stupid little bitch that you are, huh? Denying that you got someone from your freak division to come down here and fuck up my shit? You know your paying for the damages, right? I'll be expecting money for a new fridge, a nice one, from your paycheck and it better be before the sun rises on your precious bitch lackey's funereal!-" At that point, Minase just clicked the flip phone shut.

The creaking of its case echoed slightly into the empty hallway as her fist tightened around it in restrained rage. Her arm shook with the force of her quiet wrath before launching her phone into the nearest wall with the full force of everything she wanted to hold back. She watched as it bounced off the wall and bench under it before coming to a stop a few feet from her. The phone looked like it remained intact, with was more than what one could say about her emotions right now. Minase tried not to fall directly onto her knees and instead stumbled quickly over to a nearby vending machine, its light acting as a pleasant beacon in her mind. She tried to stop herself from falling onto it, but her knees gave out at the worse time and caused the machine to rattle a little from the force of her landing. Tears had been welling up for a while, but now fell freely from her tired eyes. She felt her legs lose their strength as she slipped quietly onto the floor, covering up her sobs as best she could.

"Minase? Is… that you?" A tired voice cracked the night's stillness, causing her to turn and face the newcomer.

"Sorry. Did I wake you?" Minase whispered as she gathered herself up just enough to ask Iharu, who was standing in the hallway with just a pair of sleep shorts.

"No… Well, kinda. But that's not important." Iharu rubbed the sleep from his face as he came over to the vending machine and helped Minase onto her feet just enough to help shuffle her over to the bench next to it.

He turned around and went back to the barracks and returned shortly with cash, and paid for a can of hot corn soup from the machine. He chugged some of it and hissed from the heat before sitting down next to her on the bench.

"Here, it's cold out here. You should get something warm in ya." He said as he offered the half eaten can.

She took the offered can with reserved appreciation and took a small sip for herself. A part of her didn't want the company, but considering it could have been anyone else that found her, she was at least glad that it was Iharu. When growing up with a family life that was less than ideal, it tends to make one yearn for anything stable in their life. Minase initially left because she wanted just that, and joining the Defense Force gave her the perfect opportunity. While continuing her training, she came to hear all about how the Defense Force was a great place to not only meet great people, but a place to form deep bonds with them. Something she wanted to experience with all her heart.

It wasn't hard to make friends here with everyone being fairly like minded people. It had only been about a month and she already felt like she was a sister to everyone here. She couldn't even begin to explain just how quickly she became attached to everyone, including the witty old guy in their battalion. Minase knew it was way too early to admit this, but she really did like to think of Kafka as the dad she wished she had. And if Kafka was her dad, then Iharu felt like the brother she always wanted. Most girls here probably would have had their hearts racing at the thought of having an indirect kiss with the resident hot-shot, but to her it just felt like something a caring brother would have done.

"So can I ask what happened, or do you want to sit in silence together until you feel like letting me walk you back to bed?" Iharu asked with a yawn, slouching over until his elbows hit his knees.

Minase bitterly chuckled, "I don't think I'm going to be able to sleep for a while, let alone tonight."

"What, did the fucked-up old man say something stupid and insane like usual?" Iharu tried to be helpful as he tried to cut her step-father down.

"No." Minase tried to playfully counter before contradicting herself, "Well, yes, and it's actually kinda serious, but it wasn't what he said about me."

She took a deep breath before she spoke, "Someone broke into my parent's place tonight."

"Anyone hurt?" Iharu reflexively fired back.

"No one that didn't deserve it. Chase got thrown into the fridge after he slugged the guy, but the biggest problem is that the guy that broke in stole my dogs." Minase answered before she took another sip of the hot canned soup.

"Fuuuuck." Iharu sleepily droned out, "Ain't that a swift kick in the nuts."

"You know what hurts the most?" Minase hinted at, "Is that I feel a little relieved that it happened." She tried to hold back another wave of sobs which caused her lungs to hiccup and her frame to shake again.

"Nooo, Minase! You don't mean that, come on." Iharu drawled as he scooted closer and wrapped an arm around her. She tucked her head into his chest as a hand came up to hold back her tears.

"They have a chance to go to a nicer family this way, right? They practically look like pure-breeds so some fancy, upper-crust family would have to pay out the nose to give them a happy life." Minase continued to quietly sob as she did her best to hug Iharu back for personal support.

"Look, it's been reported to the police, right? Maybe in the morning we can head to your parents' place and we can ask your mother for details. Or maybe we just spend a day or two posting flyers, I don't know. Either way, we can all pitch in to get your dogs back." Iharu tried to comfort her as he rubbed soothing circles into her shaking back.

"There's no point if I have no where to keep them!" Minase did her best to muffle her pitiful wails behind her already occupied hands.

Off in the distance down the hallway, they heard a strange noise, loud enough to be heard over their emotional conversation. Iharu spared a glance down the darkened hallway in what he hoped was the direction the noise was from. Since Minase didn't seem to hear it the first time, he ignored his instincts and went back to comforting her. However, he couldn't bring himself to ignore his gut feelings any longer once he heard what sounded like chairs crashing and a muffled curse.

"What was that?" Iharu muttered suspiciously as he shifted on the bench.

"Yeah, I heard it too." Minase confirmed as she wiped away the last of her tears.

The two of them looked at each other before deciding to get up and follow the noise. They traveled down the almost pitch black hallway with Minase peering into the dark panes of glass that lined the corridor with the light from her phone. Iharu quickly found a janitor's closet in the dark and began to brutally shoulder the door open. He reached inside and grabbed a wide broom and met back up with Minase.

"What's that for?" she asked.

"Intruders?" Iharu answered with an unsure shrug.

"Why would anyone want to break into a Defense Force Base?" Minase countered.

"I'm sorry, do you think we get paid enough to ask that kind of question right now?" Iharu retaliated as he brandished the makeshift weapon.

They didn't have to continue very far before they noticed something strange in one of the offices on that floor. Looking through the inner window, they both noticed that one office was a lot brighter than the others, mainly due to the fact that one of the outer windows was open and the blinds covering it were drawn up. The full moon outside gave out enough light to let the duo see what was a clear outline of a large, hunched figure currently ducked behind a desk. They quietly rushed to the office door, and once finding it unlocked, let themselves inside. With her phone off, they stealthily rounded the desks behind the lumbering figure.

Iharu couldn't tell what the person was saying, but could tell that they were struggling with something wriggling in their jacket. As he lifted the full weight of the broom to come down on the intruder's head, he accidentally knocked the head of it against the lip of a desk next to him. As he let out a clipped curse, the stranger in front of them quickly turned around and scrambled backwards across the floor screaming. Startled by his screaming, both Iharu and Minase began to scream as well. Once everyone started screaming, did two little yapping fluff balls make their presence known.

"Wait, dogs?" Iharu called out first once he heard the unusual disturbance.

"Shit, Iharu?" The barely masked stranger guessed after he calmed down.

"Kafka?" Minase and Iharu both answered once they heard the intruder's voice.

"Well, so much for anonymity." Kafka groaned sarcastically as he pulled down his face mask.

Minase turned and bolted for the light switches back next to the door to the office and turned the lights on. Coming back she saw two familiar looking lumps of hyperactive fur rapidly shaking in the confines of the large black jacket Kafka was still wearing.

"Ronny! Tototo!" She cried as she scrambled for her twin Pomeranian pups.

Kafka unzipped his jacket and very carefully pulled them out so he could hand them over to a very teary eyes Minase. Iharu let the broom drop to the floor as he watched with astonishment while Minase fell to her knees and lavished her once forsaken pets. She held them close as she lovingly pelted them with loud kisses before fully falling to the floor and laid on her side, letting them lick her back with equal voracity. More tears came to spill out, not of sadness for once, but out of happiness and was now mixing into a layer of joyous dog slobber being lathered on her face. Her enthusiastic giggles could not be contained and instead echoed slightly in the mostly empty office. As the scene unfolded before them, Iharu slowly moved closer to Kafka and helped the quietly elated man off the floor.

"Jeezus, man! What the hell happened to your eye?" Iharu asked once Kafka had dusted himself off.

"Hmm! Oh, this?" Kafka answered as he pointed to the fresh shiner blooming over his right eye, "Got distracted and walked right into a light pole! Can ya believe it!" He tacked on a great big smile to hopefully sell the lie.

"Uh huh." Iharu grunted, already suspicious, "Was the distraction caused by the dogs or from recovering getting knocked in the head first?"

"Don't know what you're talking about." Kafka muttered as he innocently shrugged.

"Really?" Iharu incredulously countered, "You seriously expect us to believe that you didn't just break into Minase's Dad's house, knock his front door in, and make away with the dogs in question."

"Yes, because what the story actually is-" Kafka began with a mischievous glint in his good eye, "That I graciously intervened in what was clearly a home invasion gone wrong, rescued the dogs off the street after failing to apprehend the suspect that just so happened to be a similar build and height to me, and have so humbly decided that I could bring these poor, distraught, and fluffy victims to a safe location before notifying their proper owner. Who, come to find out, I just so happen to work with." Kafka finished smugly, "There's already a police report and everything."

Iharu rubbed his hands over his tired face for a moment and groaned loudly, "Oh, this is bad. Oh, you are going to get so caught." Those same hands came up to pull back on his hair, "How did you even know which house to hit? Minase never says anything about her family. E-e-even then, what's your excuse for being out so late? You have to know that Vice-Cap is going to kill you for being out this long."

"I don't know if you know this, but there aren't a whole lot of guys living in Western Japan with the legal name Chase, let alone living with a woman whose last name is Akari." Kafka informed as he patted Iharu's back, "And look, just leave the rest of the scary shit up to me. This may come as a shock, but this isn't the first time I've had to duck an assault charge as well as B+E." Upon hearing this, Iharu slowly turned and looked up at the fellow brother-in-arms, now a complete stranger to him once again.

"Please tell me this is just another Germany thing?" He asked, wanting it to coax out some reassurance that Kafka wasn't as crazy as he was being led to believe.

Kafka just let out a breathy chuckle, "I'll tell you about it some other time." He left cryptically open-ended.

Iharu watched as Kafka walked off and joined Minase on the floor, pulling out strips of cold, precooked bacon from the pocket of his jeans and teased the Pomeranian brothers with it. Iharu, still being too tired to continue to question any of this, just shook his head gave up, preceding to join the other two people on the floor and introduced himself to the new ferociously furry company.

"i really appreciate you doing this for me Kafka!" Minase cheered as she held her pups close to her chest, "But it doesn't change the fact that they can't stay here. I'm sure the higher-ups wouldn't let us."

"You let me worry about that too." Kafka countered as he tore up the last strip of bacon he owned, "Who knows, maybe Bakko could do with a pair of friends."

"Or a set of snacks." Iharu mumbled as he reached out a hand for one of the Pomeranians to sniff at.

"Don't even joke like that." Minase growled as she harshly pulled her dogs out for Iharu's reach.

[http-paprika]

Bite the Hand / Phillip Graves

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part three - the hunt ⋆★⋆ the masterlist ⋆★⋆ previous ⋆★⋆ next

summary as frost continues to train, her views towards lycanthropy shift. and graves steps in to help her train

werewolf!au / pairing phillip graves x female!reader / callsign frost / wc 1671 / warnings swearing, mentions of alcohol and blood

notes good god, i struggled to write this chapter. so, hopefully, it's not a doozy for ya'll. i tried, i did. the next two chapters are going to be where it's at. the taglist is still open

Coming out in a jagged spray, the water beat against her skin like ice, hard and cold, shivering under it. She worked her hands over the sore, tight muscles, scrubbing clean the grime and dirt from her training. Like a plug had been pulled, she was drained, aching, and exhausted. It felt like basic training all over again. Her tailbone throbbed, her cuticles were a mess, and she felt like a wreck. The Shadow Company was making sure that she was efficient, shifting fluidly, honing her senses that she’d neglected over the years. Lerch wanted to make her into a well-oiled machine.

Eventually, she turned off the water, drying her skin to the bone and trying to ignore the outside noises, the howling and screeching. It was a full moon, and most of the Shadow Company were out in the woods, hunting, running, trying to dispel the antsy feeling that settled over her kind on nights like those. And even though Vance had invited her to join him and the others, she’d declined. Frost needed to rest, even her body seemed to pulse with energy, an itch to shift she couldn’t scratch away. An instinct she couldn’t ebb away, even if her father had raised her to do so.

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To say her teammates looked like shit would’ve been an understatement. Vance laid his head against the plywood desk, attempting to catch up on lost sleep, and Erikson had resorted to caffeine pills as Lerch barked at them to work as usual. Frost felt pity along with amusement towards them and Dipaolo, wherever he was. A moon hangover was the term she’d heard before, and watching the two now, she considered it painfully accurate.

“My head’s fucking killing me,” Vance complained loudly the second Frost gave him attention and asked about his night. “I can't even think straight. All I remember is fighting a bear.

“You didn’t fight a bear, Vance. You’re so dramatic.” Erikson groaned, rubbing his forehead. “The most you did was chase a squirrel.”

“I did more than that!”

Frost shook her head, rolling her eyes at Vance’s behavior; she'd come to learn that he tended to exaggerate about most things. “There’s no point in lying, Vance. No need to be ashamed, I’m sure the squirrel put up quite the fight.” She laughed in response to him, leaning back in her office chair.

“Piss off, Frost!” He scowled, annoyed by Erikson and her laughing at him as the door opened and Dipaolo dragged himself into the room, a large bruise swelling on his face. He blinked, his eyes still adjusting to the harsh fluorescent lights as he turned to Frost.

“Commander wants to see you in his office,” Diapolo told her, rubbing his eyes. Her focus sharpened, wondering what she’d done to warrant a visit to Graves’ office. Since Frost had arrived and he’d introduced her to Lerch, they’d only spoken to each other in passing.

“Did he tell you why?” Frost asked, hoping she hadn’t managed to end up in trouble with the man.

“No, he didn’t.” Dipaolo groaned, settling down in his swivel chair. “And before you say even ask Frost– I don’t want to talk about how I got this bruise.”

“Wasn’t going to ask.” She assured him, getting up from her chair and moving to the door. Racking her brain, she couldn’t think of a reason that would’ve caused Graves to be mad at her. But her commander was unpredictable, and Frost decided to prepare herself for the worst like she used to do in the Marines when her commanding officer asked for her.

Reaching his office, she knocked and a muffled reply told her to come in. From behind a mountain of papers, Graves looked up at her, a crinkle near his eyes as he smiled. “There you are, take a seat.”

“Am I in trouble?” Frost quickly asked, settling in the faux leather chair that sat in front of his desk. He laughed at her question, moving the papers aside to look at her and survey the subtle changes in her features from all the shifting she’d done.

“No, not at all. I just wanted to speak to you about your training and hear about it from you personally. Lerch’s reports have been nothing short of impressive, he said you’ve been adjusting accordingly.” Graves admitted, bringing his hands together, and flexing the knuckles. “So?”

“It’s been fine,” Frost replied plainly, the toe of her boot lightly taping against the wooden floor.

“I thought we’d moved past the stiffness, Frost. We’re a pack, remember?” Frost sighed, knowing Graves would weed the truth out of her, not stopping his questioning until he was satisfied. “Come on now, don’t be shy. If Lerch is doing somethin’ wrong, you can tell me.” “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it? You gotta give me some sense of what’s going on, Frost. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” He reminded her, unfolding his hands and running one along the sculpt of his jaw.

“The training as Lerch has told you, it’s been fine. I can see, smell, and hear better than before. Shifting and its pain is manageable for me now, but I feel like nothing’s changed for me. I don’t know, I guess I expected myself to feel a little more whole now that I don’t resent what I am anymore. But something still feels wrong to me.” Graves nods along as she speaks, listening intently to her problems like they were his own. So caring and attentive towards his men, he was the idealized version of a pack leader.

“You been hunting recently?” He asked, still pondering what she said.

“I don’t hunt,” Frost mumbled, causing Graves to cock an eyebrow at her. “No one ever taught me how to.”

“Well, that might be some of your problem, Frost.” He chuckles, standing from his chair. “You’re depriving yourself of the necessary proteins to keep yourself sustained, and I’ve found that a good hunt always eases my mind.”

“If it’s so important, sir, I’ll just ask Erikson or one of the others to teach me.” She promises him, watching as he moves to the door.

“Frost, I’ve neglected to help with your training. It’s my job as your commander and pack leader to ensure you’re being taken care of. And knowing that you can’t hunt game, that’s my responsibility to fix.” Graves insists, motioning for her to get up and follow him. “I prefer to hunt at night, but we can’t be wasting time.”

⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆

Soon, hunting would become a thrill for Frost, Graves would take her out in the evening and set her loose, teaching her all he knew about hunting. In time, it became second nature, along with communicating with him while they were phased, learning the language throughout their hunts. And when she wasn’t going after game meat, they’d run. Running until Graves begged her to stop because she was easily faster than him.

“Like a fucking gazelle.” He muttered, leaning against a tree, swallowing the water from his canteen fast. Frost laughed from where she sat on top of the underbrush. "Goddamn, woman."

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” She asked, unscrewing the lid, knowing she could’ve gone another mile out.

“Yeah, but I’m not as young as you. Can’t keep up with you. I mean? Where do you get all the damn energy?” Graves asked, turning to look at her as he continued to breathe hard.

“I don’t know, I just have it.” Frost stretched out her legs, observing how lean they’d become in the few weeks.

“Your father wasn’t a chaser, was he?”

His question settles in her stomach bitterly. She’d only mentioned her father in the past when answering questions about her lycanthropy lineage. The man had been bitten and passed his resentment and rage towards it down to her. Phasing received punishment, and nights out in the cold. Years later, she could still remember the sting of his hand.

“I can't tell you, I only saw him phase once before I left home.” The memory was ingrained in her head like a repeating nightmare, the loud scrapping of teeth and claws, rancid whiskey in his breath, eyes on fire, and her body in pain. "I learned quickly it was better not to speak to him about it."

Graves nodded, he’d assumed the man was neglectful towards Frost seeing the relationship she’d had towards werewolves before he came into her life. But it still rubbed him wrong, especially when Graves thought of his upbringing.

“My father wasn’t exactly a loving man, there was a lot he did wrong when it came to me and my brothers. But what he did do right, was instill pride in us about being werewolves, and I’ll forever be grateful for that. Because I see those like you or Vance whose parents shamed you for your birthright, and it makes me see red. You deserved better than that as a child.” Graves said, looking up through the pine trees at the twilight sky, the shades of orange, purple, and blue.

“You know, I don’t think I ever thanked you for giving me this chance.” Frost pointed out, looking up at him.

“Thanking me? I’m the one who got one hell of a soldier under my wing.” He told her, sitting down next to her, brushing fallen pine needles aside. "I'm grateful you took a chance on me and the Shadow Company."

"Well, you were a very convincing salesmen." She looked over at him, offering him a small smile, his eyes crinkle as he smiled back. There was a warm understanding between them, a mixture of scent and white noise of the forest as they observed each other in silence.

Finally, Graves spoke, his voice clear in her ears. "Well, I tried my best to get the best."

taglist @delusionally-loveless-by-choice / @bacon-sandwich-of-dionysus / @iamcautiouslyoptimistic / @anna-banana27 / @unicorngirly1

[deitybird]

hi

ice has been in my city. they have done a raid in my city. they have detained people in my city.

i have not left my house for anything other than work. i have not left work for anything other than going home. i don't feel safe. but i'm okay right now.

it can easily change. because you never know. because i might fit what they're looking for. because they can and they will tell me they can.

i guess what i'm trying to say is that if i'm not at all active, that might be the reason. i'm not trying to scare anyone, though! just a heads up. it's terrifying to think about.

in the end, i might be okay, and they might not even look my way if i ever end up in the sameish area, but it seems like it's getting worse and it's only wednesday. so. yeah. i'll just keep reblogging things and being active so ya'll know.

and to everyone else - stay safe. i'm with you.

[delicateartisantrash]

Ko-fi perk: Writing Excerpt

A thank you to everyone supporting me from the quiet likes to reblogs and tips and orders and encouraging comments-- I never thought i'd find an actual community in Tumblr, I thought it'd be more like drifting around in an ocean like a leaf.

I've met some of the kindest and most imspiring people here. Thank you, for helping give me ever more reasons to get out of bed every day.

Below the cut, is the very start of the next chapter of Gladiators of Kaon. I'll try to do one of these for each of my transformers fics (Yes!! I am still working on Star of the Show ;v; also Travel Buddies I WILL POST A CHAPTER THIS YEAR DAMMIT I SHAAAAALLLLLLL IDFC HOW I WILL WRITE IT GRRR) but we'll see how much writing i get done--

There are actually two snippets here. One for my Ko-fi supporters, and one for everyone <3 Enjoy~! ;-; man Sounders gonna need hugs when he home. And yes he's coming home, it'd be a very short story if he didn't. fuck u Arena give Sounders back to his fam)

~~~

Soundwave wishes that he didn’t have to be here. Unfortunately for them all, he has four-- no, now six little Sparks giving him a reason to keep coming back, and since he’s decided that’s what he wants, he’s committed to it.

Which means that every single mech surrounding him, eventually, at some point, if another mech doesn’t tear them apart first, it will be his miserable joy to do so. He’s not exactly well liked here.

Not even by the so-called fans of his in the arena. They’d cheer his demise ever more fiercely than his success; his winning streak risked their boredom. His loss would be a novel, once-in-a-lifetime event.

His engine turns on with a rumble so quiet, not a soul but the one hiding so silently against his chest could ever know. Fine tremors threaten to shake through his frame as the fear trails ice-cold fingers down his struts like finely tuned scalpels, slicing through his armor of false composure, fraying his nerves alive as his defensive systems come online with an instinctive rush--

Hey. Focus. Just get across the room, we don’t have to waste any time with these code nags, they willingly signed up for this slag, Lazerbeak reminds him scathingly, riled enough Soundwave worries for a moment that her engine might kick on. Guilt at his own lapse of control flares, and just as quickly, the concern is washed aside by a peaceful calm not borne from his own Spark. It comes tinged with indignant frustration, perhaps rightly so; of the two of them, Soundwave has no questions on who is the braver mech. Oh come on, she injects directly into his thoughts, the edges of their minds blurring for a moment before solidifying as she probably changes system processes throughout his frame again.

What would he do without her?

~~~

The very start of the next chapter of GOK contains a very -special- kind of jumpscare~ ;) Enjoy the sneaky peak preview!

and shhhhh if you can, please~ let people be surprised when it's published hehehe >:) >:D *evil dragon laugh*

I've taken ya'lls advice and took a little bit of a break from writing for a hot bit (though the stories never leave my head, i'm always working on them. I think and plot and get ideas for them daily. --Okay more like constantly. Always. lmfao.) and I've gotten a lot of things done productive, even if that was just... sitting quietly, hanging out with any of the critters or taking a moment of peace for myself.

as much as writing helps me, it does also drain my energy in its own ways, so the time i've taken to recharge while also dealing with everything else going on has been healing. ;w; thank you for being so supportive. I don't think I could have dreamed of or asked for kinder readers and people surrounding me.

I neeeeed to wriiiite though so i'm working on dedicating some set aside time to it this week, so I'll do my best to get some chapters rolled out ;v; i got so many ideas I want to write down and share hehe~

Thank ya'll <3

[war-siren-au]

Monster Sirens Explained

ALRIGHTY FOLKS I FINALLY GOT AROUND TO EXPLAINING MONSTER SIRENS AND HOW THEY'VE CHANGED AND WHAT NEW ABILITIES THEY HAVE

If you have any questions, feel free to ask!! My ask box is open, and answering questions helps me flesh things out and cover things I may not have considered before

That being said, ONTO THE EXPLAINATION

Okay okay now for monster sirens

To recap, instead of being sealed away underground, in this au monsters were sealed away in an underwater cave

Since monsters are made of magic, they were able to survive, and their magic helped them evolve and adapt to living in the ocean

Like regular sirens, they also take after different ocean creatures

Except a bit differently???

Okay so like Sans and Papyrus take after sharks

Idk what shark specifically I want them to take after yet but I’ll figure it out

But anyways

Since they take after sharks, they have shark-like teeth

They ALSO have shark like tails but it’s NOT ECTO MAGIC

Ik sharks don’t have bones, but these guys are magic skeletons okay so they have boney shark tails

The bits of cartilage that make up a sharks tail are bone for the skelebros

As for the fins, I’m thinking of making it like fragmented bone pieces so they’re still a bit flexible because real shark fins are like thin strands of cartilage

Idk how tf to explain it

But that’s how I kind of imagine their tails to look

Okay moving on

Monster sirens have most of the same forms as regular sirens

Those being the siren forms, half forms, and beastly forms

They don’t have a form where they can rid themselves of their newly added features entirely

Their half forms are about as close as they can get

HOWEVER

They don’t have the size changing ability that regular sirens have

Their tails might add an extra couple feet to their height/length compared to their legs, but they otherwise remain the same size they were before

Regardless of what their kin species is

Now ik I said in the first post that all monsters now have kills regardless of kin species so they can survive underwater easier

That is not true for the skelebros

Because they’re skeletons

They don’t really need gills

Where would their gills be

Their neck vertebrae???

Yeah no

They’re skeletons, they don’t really need them

ANYWAYS

ONTO THEIR POWERS AND ABILITIES

Now obviously they all keep whatever magical abilities they had before the change

(Though fire attacks now mostly just translate to attacks of boiling water)

BUT they’ve also gained some abilities

They now all have the power of siren’s song

They can pull magic into their voices in much the same way regular sirens can

They also now have water manipulation abilities TO AN EXTENT

Their water manipulation abilities aren’t really that strong compared to regular sirens

Most don’t have the ability to heat, freeze or turn the water into a gel or crystal-like substance

The only exceptions being monsters with fire abilities (heating/boiling water) and monsters with ice abilities (cooling/freezing water)

Everyone else can only manipulate and control the water’s movement

And even then, not to the extent that regular sirens can

They can control smaller amounts of water, but they wouldn’t be able to cause storms or tsunami’s

If they’re next to a body of water, they can use the water in attacks

Though they’ll likely just stick with the magic and attacks they already had

That being said

Once they move to the surface, monsters prefer to stay near humid areas and/or large bodies of water

Being in dry areas is uncomfortable for them, so they mostly stay by the coast

Being in dry areas won’t physically harm them or anything, it’s just really uncomfortable

Alright, that’s about all I can think of for now

Alright, this was a bit of a shorter post and I apologize 😭

Anyways, I hope ya'll enjoyed!!

[finest-galaxy]

Bullet With Butterfly Wings pt 2

Well, ya'll. This fic took an unexpected turn into more PG-13 territory. See the playlist below:

1. Rio- Duran Duran

2. Werewolves of London- Warren Zevon

3. Sweet Emotion- Aerosmith

4. I Wanna Be Sedated- Ramones

5. Crazy Horses- The Osmonds

6. Ain't No Rest For The Wicked- Cage the Elephant

7. Addicted- Saving Abel

8. I Wanna Be Yours- Arctic Monkeys

9. Begging- Maneskin

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Stolas didn’t move as the keys bounced off of his chest. They fell to his lap with a quiet thud.

“Me? Drive?”

Blitz’s nodded, his smile widening.

“Drive your van?”

Nod.

“You want me to drive your van? The same van I listened to you scream at Moxxie about for a half hour during the last full moon?”

The imp’s smile faltered at the memory. “Okay, that was different. He DENTED my baby trying to squeeze it into the drive thru at Hellbucks. He knew it wouldn’t fit! I told him that.”

“That’s a lot of pressure. What if I dent it? Or worse, crash it?” Stolas toyed with the keys in his lap. He was terrified of damaging something so precious. “I haven’t driven much, and the little I did drive was ages ago.”

“Oh, come on. You know you want to, birdie. Plus, if you do hurt my baby, I’ll just take it out on your ass next month.”

Stolas held up the little horse keychain and jangled the keys. “That’s not much incentive to be careful, Blitzy.”

Blitz glared at him. “Hey, I’m only tryin’ to help you. You wanna drive the bitch or not?”

Stolas laughed and nodded. Blitz’s grin returned as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Okay, good. Now, gimme a couple of minutes to get ready. You can’t have a maiden voyage without a good playlist.”

“A maiden voyage. What are we? Pirates?” Stolas craned his neck to try to see the smaller man’s screen.

“Yeah, but this time we’re pirates who don’t throw shit outta windows.” Blitz shot back without looking up from his phone. “Windows are just meant to be put down tonight. Now, quit distractin’ me or you’re never gonna get to drive tonight.”

The owl leaned back in his seat, waiting patiently for almost twenty minutes while the imp poked and muttered at his Hellphone. Finally, he tossed the device onto the dash and shoved open the drivers side door. He jogged around to the passenger side and opened Stolas’s door.

“Your turn, Big Bird.”

Stolas moved slowly around the van and settled into the drivers seat. He took his time adjusting his mirrors and familiarizing himself with the IMP company van. The radio controls only lit up on the left side, the steering wheel was covered in duct tape and the gas pedal had lost the little rubber covering. There was a small crack in the leather of the front seat, and if he moved wrong he could feel a spring poking into his thigh through it. He cranked the keys and felt the van roar to life under his body.

Oh, holy shit. Cosmetic damage aside, the van was an absolute beast of a machine.

“Good! Ya actually gonna drive the thing now?” Blitz had sprawled himself comfortably across the bench seat with his back resting against the door, much as Stolas had earlier in the drive.

Stolas shot him a dirty look and carefully shifted into drive, pressing gently on the gas. The van lurched forward at the smallest touch, scaring the absolute shit out of him. After taking a few moments to recover, he pulled them back onto the highway and increased his speed.

“See? That wasn’t so bad. Ready for your music?” Blitz’s finger hovered over his screen.

“Voyage underway.” The owl confirmed.

Blitz barked a laugh and tapped his screen. Music swelled slowly, leading to a rapid burst of percussion. There was no one else on their stretch of the road. Just him, his passenger, and the two ton hunk of snarling metal and engine. The highway stretched out through the night in front of him, the stars bright above it. The wind whistled through the cabin as a vocalist joined the music.

Moving on the floor now, babe,

You’re a bird of paradise.

Cherry ice cream smile,

I suppose it’s very nice.

A smile broke across his face as the van picked up speed. It was beautiful.

Blitz, seeing the change in the bird’s demeanor, cranked the volume and began singing along. Stolas tapped his long fingers against the patchwork steering wheel along to the beat. Lucifer, Blitz was right. There was an incredible feeling of control that came with devouring the road.

They drove for what felt like hours, with no destination or real direction in mind. Blitz seemed content to man the radio, and Stolas never asked if he should be going somewhere. Every song that came through the speakers seemed to lift more weight off of the owl’s tired shoulders. By the fourth song, he felt more awake than he had in weeks. By the end of the sixth, he’d grown bold enough to remove one hand from the steering wheel and stick it outside, letting the wind whip through his arm feathers.

When that song ended, he leaned forward to turn down the volume.

“Blitzy?”

“Uh huh?” The imp answered, distracted by looking for the next song.

“How did you know I needed this?” Stolas asked quietly, afraid of pushing too hard and disturbing the chaotic peace the two of them had built.

Blitz looked up from his phone. “I didn’t, exactly. You always answer your phone when I text you. You didn’t. For fuckin’ days. Obviously, something was wrong. And I’m never gonna be the guy who shows up on your doorstep for a long ass conversation, but I figured I could be the guy who kidnaps you and makes you listen to my excellent music against your will.”

“But, why did you feel the need to kidnap me at all? I would have eventually responded to you, when I was able.”

He rolled his eyes at that. “Yeah, well, it’s not like I fuckin’ knew that, right? I guess I kidnapped you cause then I could know you weren’t dead somewhere for a couple hours.” He flushed and looked back down at his screen, clearly ending the conversation.

“Alright, then.” Stolas nodded and returned the volume to it’s previous migraine-inducing level.

A mopey voice began in tandem with Blitz’s a moment later.

I’m so addicted to,

All the things you do,

When you’re goin’ down on me,

In between the sheets

Stolas’s eyes went wide. What was the little imp trying to do? Kill him?

He must have sensed the taller man’s reaction in the darkness, because he broke away from the lyrics to adopt a more gentle, teasing tone. “Hey, Stols? Remember when I told you that if you asked questions, I would take away the next full moon?” Stolas nodded hesitantly. “Good. Well, after that last line of questioning from you, I decided to go in a different direction. I’m gonna listen to exactly what I want to listen to, no matter how distracting it might be for your smarty pants bird brain over there. And if you so much as ding my rim on a curb, you’ll be paying the price at the end of the ride. Got it?”

Stolas gulped and snuck a glance at the imp next to him. He was no longer reclined against the door. He’d straightened and was looking directly at the owl with an eyebrow raised. Stolas nodded and snapped his eyes back to the road.

“Good. I’m gonna go back to my song now.” Blitz patted his thigh and resumed his singing.

The driver made it through the first song with no incident. The imp’s smooth voice mingling with the gruff voice of the vocalist’s wasn’t distracting at all. The lyrics definitely weren’t either. Everything was going fine until the third song after Blitz had changed the pace.

Put your lovin’ hand out, baby.

Cause I’m beggin’.

Since the beginning of their agreement, from the very first night, Blitz had been the top in their dynamic. He was methodical, borderline cruel, and knew exactly how to turn Stolas into putty in his hands. Now he was fucking BEGGING? How in the hell was he supposed to focus when his power top was in the seat next to him singing about begging?

The van thudded gently as a tire collided with a tiny animal in the road. Blitz lurched forward to stop the music and pointed to the side of the road, silently.

“Oh, shit, Blitz. It was some kind of animal. I am so sorry!” The bird wailed as he pulled the van to the side.

Blitz just put his hand up and threw open his door, jumping out to go survey the damage. Stolas sat petrified in his seat. Oh Lords, what if it was bigger than he thought? What if he’d actually managed to damage the van? He watched the smaller man lean down to inspect the tire, then moved over to stop outside of the drivers side door.

“Get out.” Blitz instructed, sternly.

Stolas scrambled out of the van as quickly as he could. The imp slammed the door behind him and leaned against it, looking languidly up at the taller man.

“I didn’t give you a lot of rules, right?” The bird shook his head, feathers trembling. “Right. And still, you managed to run over a poor little rat.” Blitz tutted at him. “And what did I say would happen if you hurt my baby?”

“Y-you said I’d pay for it.”

Blitz nodded. “I sure did. But, I’m also not an asshole. You said earlier you didn’t want anyone touchin’ you. I’m not gonna touch you if it’s gonna make things worse. So, I’m gonna need you to tell me exactly what boundary I can’t cross tonight. I’m not gonna be mad at you. I’m helpin’, not hurtin’.”

Stolas thought about that for a moment. It was true, his mood had been awful earlier. But, if he was being honest, he was feeling a little better about things. Full moons usually helped cheer him for a few days. And while he didn’t know exactly what Blitz had planned, the glint in his eyes hinted at something lascivious.

“I think it’s only fair that I pay for my mistakes, isn’t it?”

Blitz grinned at him through the darkness, sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight. “Good. Now I can show you how else I blow off steam.”

Notes:

Let me know if ya'll would like a third chapter or if I should end it here. Next chapter would definitely be of the explicit variety. Thanks for reading if you made it this far! Seeing the hits climb warms my elder millennial heart.

[ace-does-stuff]

The Solace of Silence

Summary: It's a coincidence they both hate the noise that parties bring.

Warnings: Smoking, referenced drinking, off screen violence, sexual tension, check tags for full tag list.

Authors Note: I should probably find the prompt list for SNF week instead of looking at what everyone else is doing and just going for it. So I'm not good at writing hurt/comfort, I'm good at writing hurt on it's own, but there was this vibe in my head that wouldn't leave, so heres hoping this counts as hurt/comfort. If ya'll enjoyed maybe consider leaving a reblog or dropping by on the Ao3 port to drop a comment or kudos.

Sapnap leaned on the porch railing, a can of root beer in hand despite everyone urging him to man up and just have a beer. The taste stung in his mouth, he hated it, he's pretty sure he's allergic to barley, that's what brings him onto the back porch at every party he goes to. He's shocked he hasn't decided to stop going entirely at this point, but Quackitys the one with a car, and he likes to go to parties.

He hears the sliding door open but barely catches the soft sound it makes as it closes again, the sound of the party overwhelming. He pays no mind to the quiet footsteps that follow, they're buried in the cacophony of music, shouting, and a hint of rain.

He picks up the sound of a lighter flicking, once, twice, then a third time. He gives a soft sigh before speaking, "I got one too," He holds out his own lighter.

They take it, "Thanks."

Sapnap recognizes the voice before they finish the word, he just talks like he knew who it was all along, "I thought you left when Dream held parties?"

George shook his head, "He said you'd be dropping by so I didn't want to leave," He lit the end of his cigarette, "You don't mind if I smoke beside you right?"

"Naw, it's chill, just try not to get all of it in my face," Sapnap said.

"Cool," George answered with, "How come you're here?"

Sapnap shrugged, watching the gray plumes of smoke fade between rain and refracted streetlights. He takes a sip of his pop, the bubbles are comforting, "Quackity dragged me along, it sucks here though."

George gives a weak laugh, "Totally, way too loud if I'm being honest," Sapnap nodded.

"Entirely so," He circles the can in his hand once or twice, "I didn't know you smoke."

"Not a whole lot, only when Wilburs over, he has like, an infinite supply on him," George explained, "He usually lets me have one but otherwise I never buy."

"Promise?" Sapnap asked, he probably sounded childish over such a simple concern, but all George did was give a small laugh.

"I wouldn't lie to you," He rested on the porch railing as he spoke, holding out his empty hand to catch some raindrops. They were cold, like ice, but it was nice. He pulled back his hand and wiped it down on the leg of his pants before holding it out to shake, "I promise you."

Sapnap took Georges hand in a shake, "Cool," His gaze lingered on the lit end of the cigarette, it glowed a soft orange, "Cool."

"Wanna try?" George offered, holding it out to Sapnap.

"Sure," He took it reluctantly, "It's a party, shit happens," He tried to take a drag but broke into coughs instead and George laughed.

"Dude! How do you fuck it up that bad?" His question is somewhat sincere as he takes the item back.

"What makes you thing I've tried before?" Sapnap answered with, using his now empty handed to slam against his chest, still coughing.

George gave a hum, "Good point, I'm gonna get a drink, you want anything."

Sapnap paused, he shook his can. His voice came out a little bit strained, "Root beer."

"Cool, I'll be back in a minute," He hands the smoke to Sapnap, "Don't drop it."

"The fuck? Do you want me to try it again?" Sapnap asked, George shrugged.

"if you want, there's still a lot left," George stated as he turned to leave, "Dream doesn't like anybody smoking inside."

"Alright," Sapnap said quietly.

He glances down to the cigarette in his hand, he's tempted to hold it out in the rain, see how long it takes for it to go out, but he refrains. He's tempted to bring it up to his lips and try once more, but he might drop it if he does which is the one thing George said not to do. So instead he opts to just prop between two fingers like they do in the movies, he actively holds himself back from spinning it around like a pencil. One end is lit, charred, he could end up with burns if he does so and for the time being at least he'd like to avoid that.

He just listens, to the rain, the muted music, the thud of footsteps, the hollering, it's all so loud. He doesn't exactly see himself hanging around at parties until he moves out of Quackitys house, but he needs to make sure his friend gets home safe. He takes a sip of his root beer, it's mostly backwash now, he flips it to drain out the remains before tossing it to the side. He rests his chin on the railing, it's damp, cold, and wooden, he opts to rest his chin on his arm instead.

He turns to face the sliding door when it opens again, George returns with two cans of root beer and a bloody nose. He's grinning a little bit despite the forming bruise on his cheek so very close to his eye. Sapnap is quick to be at Georges side, gently pressing right beside the wound, George tenses.

"What the fuck happened?" Sapnap asked quietly.

"So it's really chaotic in there, a lot more than I thought it would be," George said almost nervously, he held out a can to Sapnap, "I got your drink though."

"My drink can wait," Sapnap said, bringing a hand to rub away the fresh trickle of blood running down Georges face. The pad of his thumb running along Georges lips as he did so, "We're going inside and getting you fixed up."

"I'm fine," George said boldly, he flinched a bit when Sapnap tried to wipe the blood from his nose.

"No, no you're not," Sapnap said before urging George to follow him to the other side of the porch.

George reluctantly followed Sapnap down the stairs, an arm slung around his shoulder as they walked along. His face hurt, a dull pain on the side of his nose and his cheek bone, it was a little too close to his eye for comfort. He brings a hand to rest at the wound, Sapnap bats it away and George stays silent at the motion.

Sapnap pushes open the basement door before leading George in, heading directly to the half finished bathroom. George takes a seat on a closed toilet lid while Sapnap rummages through a cabinet without a door for the first aid kit. He knows that there has to be one down here, he's watched Dream ascend the stairs holding it above his head like it's a sacred object.

He tugs on the string attached to the light, he still doesn't see it, "Where the fuck does Dream keep the first aid kit?"

George shrugged, "Go ask him, I never come down here."

"You live here and you never come down here?" Sapnap asked in disbelief as he compulsively reached to close the cabinet door that wasn't there.

"I don't come down here for the first aid kit at least," George said as he rolled his eyes, "Check under the sink."

Sapnap drops to his knees in seconds to open up the aforementioned cabinet, he pulls out a first aid kit in seconds. He rummages through it haphazardly, some items find their way to the blocked sink drain, others are shoved to the side. He pulls out some gauze pads and swivels around to face George, "What happened up there?"

"I think I got shouldered pretty bad," George said as Sapnap dabbed away the blood, he used a hand to tilt Georges chin a little bit.

"But you're tall," Sapnap said under his breath, George gave a light chuckle.

"There are people taller than me Sapnap," George said, he leaned into Sapnaps touch a little bit, a faint flush rose to his face at the motion.

"I find that hard to believe," Sapnap stated, he paused as he brushed off the final bit of blood, "Where they wearing something spiky?"

George nodded, "Yeah, is there a cut?"

Sapnap nodded, he reached blindly for what he needed, coming up with an Isopropyl wipe. He tore it open and slowly pressed the corner to the open wound, George recoiled, "I have to clean it out."

"It hurts though," George whined, Sapnap reached once to more to grip his face just a little bit tighter.

"I know," Sapnap answered with softly, rubbing small circles on Georges cheek as he brought the wipe to his nose, "Just hold still for me."

"Okay," George said quietly, barely a whisper, a crack on his voice.

He still winced when the corner of the wipe hit his nose. He leaned further into Sapnaps touch as he slowly dragged the corner around the edges of the wound. He grit his teeth and stayed silent even though it stung a lot- he couldn't help the whine that slipped out when the alcohol hit the deepest part. He held perfectly still despite that, even as Sapnap pushed gently against the small rupture.

"You're doing so good for me," Sapnap spoke on an exhale, his face was so close to Georges the latter could feel the warmth of his breath, pick up on the hint of root beer.

George only whined again, reaching out to rest a hand on the small of Sapnaps back, then the other.

Sapnap gave a soft chuckle, "I'm almost done okay?"

"Okay," George managed quietly as Sapnap grabbed two small bandages.

"Good boy," Sapnap really didn't mean to say it, but it just fell out of his mouth. He went with it though, especially with the way it made George melt in his grasp, "Holding perfectly still for me."

He secured a fresh gauze pad in place over Georges nose with two bandages before letting go. George didn't let go of him, he only looked up at Sapnap who looked down at him.

"It's so quiet down here," George said.

"Definitely," Sapnap answered with.

George barely opened his mouth, letting his tongue rest at the corner of his lips. The tang of iron hit him, "I think you missed some blood during clean up," A bit of desperation was on his voice.

"Oh really?" Sapnap asked, tracing a blunted nail where he could see the distinction between lip and blood.

George nodded, "Really," He leaned up a bit.

Sapnap leaned down a bit, pressing a soft kiss to Georges lips, George pulled him in a bit more, pushing on the small of his back. Sapnap had to reach for the wall to use as a type of support, one hand pressed against it and the other closer to Georges hip. The coppery taste rested heavy in his mouth but who was he to complain?

There was a party raging on above them, yet it was a perfect silence down below in the dim light. An imperfect moment in a place they both hated, the mood flickering on and off like a light switch. The passion burning like the soft embers of a cigarette, touch like fire and desperate enough to leave momentary marks like burns.

[poetressj]

Normally, I Would

write in my journal pertaining to my thoughts but I wanted to bring it to tumblr & get some insight. Over the past few months, I have really taken the time to reflect on my life, who I am, & what I want for myself. Let's start with the men in my life & what deterred me from ever giving them the type of attention that I'd been giving them. For longer than I should have been; I had been "talking to" 3 men that were not in the same headspace as me (but I did not realize this until much later). Better late than never! MAN 1: I was in love with this man for a looooonnnnnnngggggg time but it began to feel like a relationship (friendship/situationship) that was only beneficial as long as I was able to provide for them in a monetary way. I started to sense that & the feelings that I had for this man began to slowly fade & it started to go back to being on a friendship level. But even in that I feel as though it's time to let it go. Because I am not feeling it; I feel used & have been feeling like that for a while so I know its time for me to go. I decided that the last "favor" that I did is the last one & I'm out. I did give this man a title that is very important (which I will not get into), but something is telling me that he is not going to hold up his end with it (& I have to listen to that intuition inside of me. Those rose colored glasses had to come off when it came to him & when I finally saw him; i became easily annoyed, didn't really want to communicate (we weren't talking anyways unless he needed something from me). MAN 2: POINT BLANK---our relationship was only based on sex via the phone because it was long distance; which at first I was cool with at first , but then I decided that I don't want that for myself. & went NO CONTACT with him. VERY RECENTLY, BUT I'M STANDING ON IT! & he never took the initiative to come & see me. Me not going to see him I have my reasoning (that I will not get into). Not only that, he was verbally controlling; never wanted to communicate (WE ONLY TALKED ABOUT SEX!). At one point, he claimed that he wanted to be with me, but then says he's "not looking for a relationship", well I'm not looking to be strung along for as long as I was. I did make him aware of MAN 1, but MAN 1 & I were never going to be together due to outside forces & because of the things that came to light during our friendship. At one point, MAN 2 asked me to prove to him that I wanted to be with him & I started to do that, but then I very quickly realized what was going on & just stopped. He said that I was annoying. SIDENOTE: I'm a lover girl so once you ask me to be your whatever, I'm very attentive (I need to work on just being laid back when a person shows interest) & MAN 2 did not like that; but that just means that he was not for me. I want to say it's been 5 days of NO CONTACT; if ya'll want an update on the NO CONTACT for MAN 2. Let me know. MAN 3: I met via Instagram (2 of 2 reasons why I decided to no longer do online dating). I just iced him out completely within reason. MAN 3 in my eyes was a very good communicator in the sense of how he spoke to me, but what made me go ghost on him completely is the simple fact that 1. he was very quick to say I love you & we had only been talking for 3 weeks at the time (this went on for a year) 2. he wanted to fly me out & i told him no multiple times because we DID NOT KNOW EACH OTHER (never seen each other in person). 3. always became defensive because I would not allow him to provide for me; he said that it was because he wanted to take care of me, but I felt as though it was because he wanted to have financial control & I was just not going for it.

With all 3 of these men, I feel as though they wanted to have some aspect of control over me. & I don't like that. & because of that it has led me to go back to having interest in women. Now before ya'll get on me. I have always been interested in women. I am physically attracted to men; & physically, mentally, & emotionally attracted to women which is why I label myself as Queer. At this moment in my life, I am not looking to be in a serious relationship with a woman, but I will date a woman. & my purpose in dating a woman is to determine my likes & dislikes; really just vibe out & develop a friendship with her. If said woman wants to date exclusively a conversation can be had. Can I see myself marrying a woman? Yes.

My relationships with men have always been rocky because I have a lot of masculine energy towards men regardless of me finding them physically attractive. It never works out, no matter how many times I try. But I have always been very soft with women & I am open to showing them the feminine side of me as a stem. When I need to be masculine for a woman I will, but aside from that I will remain in my feminine energy. I should have never derailed from being in relationships with women, but it had been so long at one point that I honestly figured that a man would have they head on right & from what I've seen it's still the same sh*t. Nothing new! A woman still ends up doing most of the work. WILLINGLY!