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bitchlessdino · 8 months

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mood rings, drive thru theaters, and the latest issue of tiger beat (m)

Pairing: chan x college student!reader (afab) Genre: angst, smut, fluff Word count: 6.9k tags: SVTHUB COLLAB, set in the 70s, plot twist with dark ending (possibly triggering to some), pwithplot, tutor!reader, busty!reader, pining, brief mention of religion, mention of recreational drugs, mention of death, mention of medicine and medical practice, mention of tragedy (car crash), breeding kink, daddy kink, unprotected sex, couch sex, handjob cream pies, dirty talk. Summary: when you fall in love, it can feel like you’ll be with that person forever, that there isn’t another being in the world you rather be with. This case is just as heavy in your youth, tutoring a boy you’ve only ever walked circles around, while you wear a mood ring from his parents souvenir shop so you could feel closer to him. When it happens, you don’t expect things to crash harder than the way they do. author note: she's here!!! i might reedit later but i wanted to get this out before i changed my mind about the plot again so enjoy and check out the rest of the collab!!!!

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @wonuhour @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun

Falling in love in the seventies wasn’t easy. You didn’t have mobile phones or text messaging, hell, you were lucky if you had email. Most people didn’t. That’s what made it so much harder to be a person stricken in love. All you had was paper, a pen, and the possibility of hearing something through your home landline.

Every day you would wait for the confirmation call he’d be coming. He was one of the polite ones. You were grateful to have formally met him through the tutoring program held in college and you look forward to that phone call and the weekly meetings every Tuesday and Wednesday to go over organic chemistry. Somewhere in that mix, you had hoped to find your own chemistry with him despite knowing how selfish that’d be.

You’d never admit it loud but you had the classic high school pining back when you attended the same classes in the same town. He was a sweetheart then just like he was a sweetheart now and you longed for him like any other teenager. He had you doodling combinations of your names together in a worn out notebook and cherishing an item you secretly associated with only him. Yours was a mood ring.

In the summer of 74’, a new souvenir shop had just opened around the block after countless failed businesses by previous owners. This shop was owned by the Lees, a cute mom-and-dad duo that was sweeter than any cream-filled Twinkee. There was not a thing intimidating about them. They seemed like good people. What you weren’t ready for was their son working the register that day.

What was it about a man in wide leg jeans and a tight fitted shirt that made you want to physically fall to your knees?

At the time, he was wiping a glass candy tray rather meticulously. He has only greeted whoever came in without looking, too focused on getting every dust particle out of every crevice, so he didn’t notice how you found him to be the most interesting sight you’ve seen.

His smile when seeing the swell job he’s done was priceless compared to every piece of merchandise in the store. If there was a chance you could bottle up and take it away for keeps, you would. You would tell the local newspaper this store would be a new world wonder just from this boy alone.

You had to pinch yourself to finally pull your eyes away from him, scanning for something, anything, interesting enough to purchase and ring it up with him. Finally, your eyes land on something colorful, ever-changing, and wearable.

“Will that be all for today?”

You nodded, holding back a wide grin as you watched him run through your purchase. His smile never faltered in front of you, and for some reason, it made you feel special, despite the assumption he probably smiled in front of anyone who came in. Still, it made an impression.

“That’ll be a dollar please and since you’re a new customer,” he picked something from a box behind the counter, “a pack of now and laters for the road. You can have one now and another later. They’re great.”

God, he’s cute.

You mused at him, accepting the ring and freebie after paying him up front. “Thank you.”

“Have a great day. Catch you on the flip side!”

You waved back at him on your exit, immediately regretting not staying longer to chat. As expected, your mind went blank the second he spoke to you, and the moment you were alone, you slid on the mood ring on your ring finger and focused all of your energy on thinking about the questions you could’ve asked. For him, that was like any interaction, but for you, it’ll be a core memory.

It was throughout the years you realized that you’d be attending the same high school, sharing the same senior year, experiencing the same last year festivities, but despite the many opportunities, you never had an encounter like that with him again. You’d pass by that souvenir shop countless times, glancing at him while he worked every shift, but cowardly never approached him again. Not with the lack of trying, of course, your adolescent self was too busy to find a way to make him fall in love with you according to whatever you read in Tiger Beat.

You remember flipping through it, back and forth, momentarily distracted by the boyish charm of David Cassidy, and then going back to reread it in case you missed something. This had been your adolescent bible to understand whatever was on trend because only God knew you needed it. Somedays, you’d pretend you were talking with him through your magazine posters. Now that was a face deserving to be in magazines.

“You’re still thinking about that boy? Just talk to him already.”

Even your closest friend, Stacey, couldn't get your head out of the clouds.

You adamantly shook your head, the magazine clung to your chest. “No, absolutely not. Me talking to him wouldn’t even happen in my dreams. In fact, I’d probably have to pay admission to see him in my dreams.”

She rolled her eyes, letting you get back to whatever exactly you were doing. “Okay, drama queen. We get it. You like a boy.”

She was used to this at that point and it’d be all the same. You never outgrew it entering colleges either, the same one he happened to attend, which you couldn’t have been more stoked to find out. “He’s not just any boy, Stacey. he’s the boy. He’s so far out. I can’t even fathom his existence.”

You were in fact exaggerating, but at the ripe age of 18 all of it felt sincere and you truly did believe it was all true.

And to think you hadn’t formally met him yet until you started participating as a tutor in a peer help program at your University. You didn’t expect much of it, only thinking of collecting some community hours and hopefully maintaining a good reputation with your professors and there he was, like fate. There he should, hair coifed in intentional pristine, a loosely buttoned vibrant green shirt, and familiar tightly fitted pants that flared from the bottom.

Your breathing seized, stunned by the sheer fact you have stood this close to him since the first time your eyes laid on him. When he turned to you, he didn’t seem to notice your reluctance to walk closer as he strode confidently in your direction.

“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Lee Chan. You're my tutor, right?”

Your heart sounded like a metronome at the highest speed at this point, taking your breathing in little by little, timidly returning him with your own introduction. Safe to say, you were both scared out of your mind, yet excited about this turn of events. Though, if you thought about it too hard, you had the chance of rendering tutorship useless and then it’s farewell to Chan.

That’s when you made the executive decision to omit him from your head during these sessions and treat him like any other peer needing help, as you initially intended with anyone you were assigned. If you wanted to continue these sessions and help out Chan, you needed to do more than think about what your future looked like together with 2.5 kids and a big picket fence.

You picked up a polite smile and settled in at a table, flipping a textbook to the first chapter of the course. Fortunately, he followed just as any other person struggling in chemistry and attempted to keep up with the lesson plan. As expected, you’d stumble over many of your teachings, forgetting some of the information yourself and having to refer to the book due to the blinding glow of your student, but as time passed, things eventually were more tolerable.

It was a few months later found an easier medium of being infatuated with the young man but helpful enough to pass the assignments in the above-average percentage. He just happened to be a good student that required more patience. Somewhat, it made you warm to learn that about him, including the fact he was good at listening, or how his eyes lit up picking up a lesson and recalling from memory. However, you kept this situation mostly professional, avoiding social interactions that would take away from your role. That was until Chan found comfort in spending time with you, having a sense of gratitude much grander than anyone teaching him Aldol reactions or valence electrons.

You could feel his soft gaze as you outlined something on his study sheet, emphasizing its importance since it’s appearing in the final he’d be taking eventually. If this were you back in the days of learning his name for the first time and thinking about him every waking second, you’d faint right about now. You’d be lying right now if you said you didn’t feel dizzy from the heat of his presence, but as you have been for the time spent together in the library, you’ve trained yourself to ignore it while mastering to subdue your intrusive thoughts.

Chan somehow found a way around that.

“Oh, your ring. Looks like the one in my parents' shop.”

You momentarily glanced back at the trinket before zone backing into today’s lesson, awkwardly chuckling to yourself. “Oh. Ha ha, that’s because it is.”

His eyes lit up the way they do, a cartoonish gleam in his eyes. “Really? I think I’d remember seeing you.”

“It was once a really long time ago.”

“Well, you should visit again. I can give you a good discount. We just got a big shipment of pop rocks.”

“Okay, sure.” You smiled, internally giggling at the thought of Chan entertaining himself with explosive candy and sharing it with you like the coolest treasure. “Alright. Organic compounds—“

“We really met before?” He interrupted.

“It really was so long ago. I’d be surprised if you did remember.”

“Well, I feel bad. I feel like there’s time it should be making up.”

You waved it off, not minding the now teary expression of guilt on his face. “It’s fine, Chan.”

“How about we go and watch a movie? I think the drive thru is replaying ‘The Godfather’. You should come with me.”

“Really? I don’t know.”

“Come on, consider it a thanks. You don’t even get paid for all the time you’ve spent teaching me.”

“No, but I get community hours. Speaking of teaching.” He placed his hand over yours, cuffing off the words caught in your throat. You find yourself helpless at the sweat pleas of Chan who works the cute angle all too well as he scooted closer to you. “I don’t think I can rest knowing I haven’t found a way to thank you. You’ve been tutoring me for 4 months. The least I can do is take you out.”

You’re a bit stunned, your leg already shaking in nerves as you never expected such a proposal to easily leave his lips and for you nonetheless. You exhaled, mustering the courage to meet his eyes before nothing, pressing your lips to discourage an all too gleeful smile. “Fine. We’ll watch ‘The Godfather’.”

He let you go, beaming, and tracking his pencil tracking over his notebook filled with chicken scratch that was comprehensible to him. “Good, I can pick you up.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated before gluing his eyes back on the textbook, a noticeable hue of peak creeping up the back of his neck. “So, organic compounds...”

This arrangement was all you could think about until the day of, reading and rereading your magazines for possible outfit ideas, dating tips, and anything with the potential of making the best of this nerve-wracking situation.

On the day of, you got in your best get up just in time for the meetup. Anxiously, you turned your mood ring around your finger as you waited by the door, contemplating to yourself if what you chose was the right course of action. When the knock came, you came swinging the door open and pinched yourself from swooning seeing him in casual attire, including jeans that hugged his hips just right.

Chan, on the other hand, didn’t hide his emotions. Bright and animated, you grew hot under his watch, fiddling with the mood ring now on your middle finger and seeing it glare back a yellowish orange, indicating how nervous you really were. He took cautious steps towards you, mouth falling in awe, and he tugged at his band tee, which now felt lackluster compared to what his eyes were now seeing. “You look really good. I feel underdressed.”

“No, no,” you said, shaking your head and stepping down from the porch. “I just threw something on.”

“Well,” he offered an elbow, “shall we?”

You accepted his offer and hooked it through, hiding your elation. “Of course.”

He escorted you to the car and guided you to the passenger seat before closing the door, allowing you a moment to swallow the spaciousness of his station wagon before heading off to the theater.

Cars beside cars, people neither mingling, making out, or taking advantage of the concession stands with 25-cent popcorn and pop. The sun was in the process of setting before it became a violet hue and eventually pitch black, perfect for movies. You got out of the car and smoothed out the wrinkles of your outfit, taking another deep breath.

You only had a fleeting second seeing him come out from the driver's seat, a smile settling on his face for what felt like you and only you.

Then came the hoard. Voices calling out Chan’s name, boys and girls his age gathered around him, offering his gregarious greetings and rowdy conversation. They hounded him with hugs, not minding you who stood off from the side behind the cat. Your expression dropped, starting from your smile before spreading over your body language. Chan, remembering your existence, tugged you from the hood and brought you to his side. He briefly introduced you as his tutor, and you did your best to greet them back just as politely.

They nodded at you, sly faces towards Chan as if you wouldn’t notice, and then came their bombarding again, only this time in your presence. You kept up the calm facade, only laughing when necessary before turning to the person who brought you here. “Nice to meet you all. Hey, Chan. I’m gonna get some snacks.”

“Okay. I’ll be here.”

You didn’t let the disappointment show on your face as you walked away but let it fall free as your back was towards the group. You hear their teasing and playful banter, questioning if you’re really just his tutor and Chan confirming, leaving no implication for anything else. You crossed your arms in embarrassment, already regretting letting this situation occur, imagining the worst scenarios to come.

You quietly asked for popcorn and a grape pop, greeted with your refreshments a few moments later, along with a box of raisinets. Your lips parted in confusion. “Oh, I didn’t order these.”

“On the house,” the guy winked, leaning over the counter a little too close for comfort, “a secret promotion for cuties like yourself.”

“Ah,” you gave him a tight-lipped grin, visibly distancing yourself, “thanks.”

“You know, I can always sneak away from my post for little liplock in—“

“Hey, you doing alright? I was worried about you.” You didn’t have to look to know. His body came crashing into yours. An arm slung over your shoulder, an action almost as natural as breathing. “Do you have enough?”

Your eyes flickered toward Chan who came to your rescue, nodding curtly. “Huh? Y-yeah.”

Chan met the seller's eyes before accepting your purchase for you, handing you over only the popcorn. You stared at the box of raisinets before he tugged you away from the stand.

“I did good, right? I’ve been told that guy’s a creep. I didn’t know he worked here.” His whisper sent chills through your body, yet burned your ears. You could feel the fanning of his breath, tickling your skin and raising every hair in your body.

“Me neither.”

“He’s not a good guy. You see him around, walk in the other direction ok?”

You nodded, taking his advice into serious thought. “Thanks, Chan.”

When it’s clear you’re out of sight, he parted from you, keeping his hands down his pockets, visibly apologetic. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable with that. He just won’t let it go unless he finds out you have a boyfriend or something.”

“Mmh-hmm.”

“Let’s get back to the others, hmm?”

You spent most of the night with Chan and his friends. Some laughed at how cheesy the movie was or actually scared of what was actually occurring (Chan was a mix between the two). You’d enjoy it more if you weren’t a bit bothered by the circumstances. All you could was glance in Chan's direction while he smiled and laughed along with his friends. Even though you were sitting next to him in the same car hood, you never felt further away. Every direction tonight felt like a punch in the gut, having only spoken to him before the movie started. At this point, you felt as if you had no place here, blinking away the humiliation tears threatening to fall.

“I’m a little cold. so I’m gonna finish the movie in the car.”

Finally, his eyes landed on you, “What?”

You slid off the hood and dusted yourself. Chan followed behind you confused before seating himself inside the car with you, a worried expression on his face. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Of course not.” You splayed a less genuine smile, raising your cheekbones for good measure, but seeing its failure to convince otherwise.

“That means I did do something wrong,” he said, smiling bitterly. “Sorry. I’m not the best at picking up cues.”

“I told you, Chan. I just got cold.”

He sighed and turned to reach for something behind, pulling over something thick and warm over your body, covering your torso and legs. “Here. So you won’t catch anything.”

There’s that familiar clang to your heart you should be used to by now, following the marching band that typically arrives after inside your chest. “Thank you.”

You both sat in silence for a bit, continuing to watch the rest of the movie. He makes so attempt to communicate with his friends outside and he doesn’t smile, only focusing on the movie, insistent on being in your presence. You aren’t sure how to behave, fingers inching at lingering awkwardness.

“If I’m being honest,” You started saying, filling the charged air with something other than tension, “I didn’t expect to see that many people with us.”

“You didn’t?”

You shook your head. “I misunderstood all on my own. Don’t worry about it. Let’s just finish the movie.”

“Hey—“

“I’m feeling warmer already,” You said, grinning as yourself deeper into the blanket.

Your eyes were ready to train back in the movie before he spoke again, hearing a tone in his voice you weren’t all that familiar with. “I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable alone with me. I guess I did anyway.”

Guilt festered in the out of your stomach, regretting making a big scene out of nothing. “That’s not—“

“I got scared,” he admitted, the corner of his lips quirking up in a self-loathing grin. “They already saw my tickets so they thought they would get some too. Make it a group thing. I didn’t want it initially, but I thought, maybe it’d make things easier…I should’ve run it by you.”

You met his eyes, earnest yet soft. You didn’t know how to respond to any of this, processing his confession slowly. A fit of emotions wash over him and you see now the inner conflict that he had dealt with, somehow washing you over with relief. The final deep exhale you let out was solace, thinking to yourself how situations like this only happen in movies and books. You’re warm all over, an overwhelming urge to reach over and hug him, a fellow rambling mess.

“You didn’t misunderstand anything. I did want to go to the movies with you, but I wasn’t sure if you felt pressure or—“

You grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers through his. He stiffened under your touch, blinking back at you like a lost child. You smiled back at him from ear to ear and body leaned over on his side. “Just hold my hand. We’re not going to cause any more misunderstandings. Okay?”

He matched you, his pearly whites staring back at you as pretty as ever. “Okay.” His thumb caressed over your fingers, noticing something interesting as he did so. “It’s purple.”

“Hmm,” You looked down at your clasped hands, noticing that same thing he did: your mood ring in a solid rich purple. “It is.”

“Do you remember what purple means?”

You avoid edhis eyes, quietly laughing to yourself. “You know better than anyone.”

“I do.” He tightened his grip, head leaning against your shoulder and it felt as if time had stopped. You don’t doubt that he can hear your heart racing right or your uneven breathing. He turned the ring around your digit, watching how the colors periodically shift. “I won’t let there be any more misunderstandings.”

Since that incident, you went about your tutoring sessions as normal, with the additional intimacy that didn’t exist before. You both gradually developed these sessions into more study dates and then they became real dates. Things only became official when the semester finally ended and he continued wanting to see you, visiting your place whenever you got the chance using any possible excuse.

You could remember how happy you felt at the time. The relief there was to know he liked you back. It was almost as if you were living a dream. A damn perfect dream.

Then your first kiss came around. You were as nervous as anyone anticipating the first. Every doubt in the past didn’t matter, only now did. Everything all led up to this point. It just happened in the way you least expected it to.

You didn’t know why he insisted on teaching you how to play arcade games when he was just as bad. Still, it was cute seeing him try so hard. The firmness of his back followed your movement, guiding you to the right combos, shifting the joystick to move in the right direction, and although it was all wrong, you appreciated the back hug you were getting in return. Even the claw machine had to be a teaching lesson, insisting he had something to teach you.

“I did it. Chan, I did it!” You saw the stuffed dinosaur grabbed by the metal prongs, dropping right into the winner’s slot. You bounced on your feet cheering and took Chan along with you, hugging him tightly as your inner child healed and squealed at your achievement.

“I knew you could! You’re amazing.” His strong arms came around you firmly, pressing you against the glass of the machine.

Your breath was seized, replaced with weightlessness and tension in your chest that doesn’t seem to want to leave and perhaps you didn’t want it to. Although he didn’t pull away from the embrace, he parted far enough to meet your eyes and the longing in them. He knew what it was because that’s what was in his eyes, falling into their trance like a lucid dream that had him higher than any recreational drug. Neither one of you was willing to let it go, so all you do is stare. Stare at each other like you’re in your own world and no one else’s. As if life as you know it ceased to exist except for you and Chan. Nothing else matters.

When it felt as if you could imagine a more perfect moment, he leaned in with closed eyes, finding your lips like they were a second home and stealing your breath. You thought to lean in to kiss him deeper, but he already had found his grasp and pressed into you closer against the glass, feeling every ounce of muscle and shape of his body beneath his clothes. His shallow breath against yours, his hug of lips pulling at your bottom lip, and he emitted a soft grunt.

He pulled away from you with his arms still wrapped around your sides, shocked by his impulsivity. He stroked the side of your head, scanning for any fear in your eyes, slightly relieved to see any in sight. “I’m sorry. That was…a lot, huh?”

You shook your head reassuringly. “No.”

“Then I can kiss you again?”

The corners of your lips turned up, gripping his jean jacket to pull him closer. “Yes.”

You were kissing for hours that day and the next day, and then again the day after. Since then, something has shifted and these teenage dreams turned reality into something less family friendly. Your nights in his dorm became more frequent, more intimate, and always backed by a melody thanks to a record player gifted to him by his dad when he moved out. His prized possession, besides you anyway, as he claimed.

“What do you want to be when you’re older,” he asked, dragging his digits in and out between yours. He smiled, noticing your mood ring turning a mix of pink and purple before kissing your knuckles. “You know I want to be a nurse. What’s your dream?”

In the background was Led Zeppelin, their intoxically addictive tune spinning on the table. You thought to yourself a bit before turning your head back up at him, nuzzling closer into his warm touch before answering. “I want…to be surrounded by the people I love.”

He laughed like he heard the sweetest thing on planet Earth before his fingers threaded through your hair. “Baby, that’s sweet but not what I meant.”

“I know what you meant, but it’s what I want. It doesn’t matter much what I do, as long as I’m with my loved ones.”

“Am I one of these loved ones? Do you love me?”

“Yeah. I love you.” You didn’t even hesitate, the words were always on the tip of your tongue until that final push. You lifted alight above him to repeat yourself louder. You let him heed your words. “I think I really love you.”

You thought he’d react differently, more scared and unsure but—“I love you too.”

“Chan,” you smile, warm filling your inside as you let your breath chase away the race in your chest.

“I mean it.” He bent his head down to meet your lips, cupping your cheek with the warmth of his palm. “I really, really love you.”

Chan toppled over you, lips meeting yours repeatedly in a heated frenzy, caressing your body and holding you desperately against him as you did the same to him. He kept you between his legs, whispering it over and over, ‘I love you, I love you,’ blistering and marking your skin. How was it that made you feel as if you weren’t allowed to breathe?

Before you realize it, clothes started coming off. Piece by piece. As ‘Babe I’m gonna leave you’ replayed, shirts, belt, pants, and everything underneath fell to the ground. You saw him. You saw all of him. And he saw all of you. Your instinct was to shield away, be conscious of your then and there but in his own way, he reassures you, speaking to you as though all his words were nothing but the earnest truth. “I’m here. You’ll never have to worry about me not being here. I love you so much.”

Your flesh spilled through his fingers, imprinting his hands through your nude. Sounds of worship leaving his lips between every kiss, not even the worry of lack of condoms could stop him. Your thighs were glued to his hips, and you felt the warmth of his length titter to your fresh heat. You moaned every time you met lips, every bite he gave to your skin, and every full twist his fingers made with your sensitive buds before filling the inside of his oral cavity of your full breast.

You ached to have him in you, hand barely reaching his girth before wrapping a tight wrist around him. He shuddered at your touch, thrusting through the circle of your palm. You felt the need in his movement as he grinded down on his couch, not minding the wool burn inevitable to be left behind. Weak chuckles escaped his lips and he flashed you a smile, seconds away from melting into helpless groans. “You know just how to handle me…”

“Only because you treat me so well.”

Kissing one breast and then the other, he reached your lips as he held your thighs against the sides of his torso. “And I’ll do it for as long as I’m alive.”

You looped your arms around his neck and pulled yourself against him, his warm breath tickling the tip of your nose. “Make love to me. I wanna feel you inside me.”

“Then I won’t wait a second longer.”

The moment you felt him inside you, you felt higher than anything you could find in a blunt offered by the shady next-door neighbor. You buckled into him, lifting your hips off the couch for a fully bloomed taste. The stretch he left had your jaw falling, clutching to his shoulder, and letting out exasperated breaths. You nearly choked on your own spit that had only forced it down when he picked up the pace.

You molten walls only sucked him in deeper, calling his name in blurred whines. Each thrust and each kiss was fueled by an undying passion. He carried you, palm to your back and your legs around his waist, and pulled you on top of him. From beneath you, he drilled your insides, meeting your longing expression.

Your fingers draped over his face, and you held on to his blissful expression that occasionally dropped in anguish when chasing after his rhythm. You whined his name desperately, clinging to him as you dug down your hips down his lap. He moaned louder than before, gingerly cupping your breasts and finding your stiff nipples between his fingers.

“You feel so good taking me…and your tits are so soft and warm.” He pushed himself to thrust hard, pleased with how easily you easily bounced against him, watching your flesh moving loud and fluidly like water. “You’re so perfect to hold, and love, and fuck my dick into—shit.”

Your chest rose and fell catching up with his efforts. “Chan, I love you so much.”

“I love you too. So, so, so—fuck!”

You felt his grip grow tighter and saw his jaw drop lower. His legs clenched to your sides impulsively, unwilling to let go. Soon enough, he couldn’t take it anymore and came inside you. He looked as if everything in his brain told him not to, but it seemed that nothing could stop the geyser within him from coating your insides with hot ivory. He snapped into you in an erratic rhythm, cum spilled in you and out of him until it stained the wool underneath.

Chan was red in the face, both in embarrassment and heat. He looked up at you in panic at the direness of circumstance considering neither one of you thought to stay protected. “Shit, fuck,” he exclaimed still pumping inside you, “you feel so good. I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head, bending down to kiss him. “It’s okay, just don’t stop…please…”

His stressed expression melted, as did his fingers into your skin. He caressed over your sides with love in his eyes, swallowing nervously. “Really, baby? That ok?”

Perspiration coated his skin, beading down his adam’s apple as it bobbed. You felt like mush in his touch, letting your hips make use of the natural lubricant. Your boyfriend groaned at the sound of the slick moisture sliding over his skin. You cupped his face in your hands, working your jaw in a needy liplock. “Yes, please. Fuck your cum in me, please.”

His fingers tensed, dragging your lips to slap down on his. He exhaled slowly, your walls hugging his cock erect. He asked in a breathy voice, “Fuck my cum in you…my pretty girlfriend wants something so dirty done to her?”

“Yes, yes, please…” You whined.

He slammed up into you, feeling how he’s already bottoming out inside you. Hearing you moan his name lit a fire beneath him and he rolled you on your back to rut in you like a merciless animal.

“You want my cum in you, hmm? Fill you up with my cum and put my fat load in you?”

You jerked in the opposite direction, your skin smacking against each other causing the tenderness of your skin. “Yes, please,” You choked out, “I want it all with you.”

His lips picked up from the corner in a smirk, turning you back over to plant you against the couch while his feet finally touched the ground. “You want it all? Like a life? A family? You want me to build a family with me…have me fuck my babies into you?”

“Yes, baby, please. I want you to fill me up so I can make you a daddy.”

“You love me that much?” He slammed into you with a proud smile. “You love me so much you see your future with daddy?”

You batted your lashes back at him. “I see every day either full of joy or full of your cum inside me.”

He snickered before biting his lips in a filthy moan, “Such a dirty mouth on the mother of my kids.”

You’re spent by the time your legs gave out, and you and your boyfriend exhausted your bodies to the point you couldn’t move even an inch off the couch. Cum seeped out of your holes like sap, only halted as you pressed your legs together to get comfortable. Chan had barely enough energy to tug a blanket off from behind him and throw it over your bodies. You smiled into his warmth, nuzzling into his chest, and inhaling his lusty musk.

You moaned in satisfaction. “Mmh, I like this…”

“Me too.” He hummed.

“I never want this to end.”

“And it won’t,” he said, kissing the temple of your forehead.

“Are you hungry?”

You moaned. “Starving.”

He chuckled, holding you closer to him as his voice dropped an octave. “Let’s fill you up with something, hmm?”

You rolled your eyes, smiling as you lightly shoved him. “Chan…”

“Food, babe,” he said with a cheeky smile, “get your mind out of the gutter.”

After a quick shower, and a few wet kisses in between, you’re set to refresh yourselves with some fast food and can’t help but be filled with elation. You cozied into the passenger seat accepting the hand he’s offered as the other steadied the wheel. You can’t help but notice how he glanced every now and then when he shouldn’t, making you nudge him to fix his gaze.

It was always a loving one, one that you’d forever burn in your memory. You don’t even know why, but you shed a tear looking at it. That smile of his seems to go on for miles and brightens your day like the morning sun. You felt it in your heart. Something suffocating that you couldn’t describe but all you think in your head is that this was love and that loving Chan would be the easiest thing you could do.

He sent you another glance before making a turn, one a little longer than the few before, then all you heard was a loud blaring honk, your voice screaming his name, and then your vision went pitch black. You stared into darkness. Emptiness. Nothing was in sight.

That was until your eyes were open again. You woke in a place of all white, smelling of antiseptic and a hint of febreeze. You slowly blinked, scanning the room, unmoving. Still, in fact.

“Good afternoon, Sunshine. Sleep well?”

You only could see who entered when they walked in your field of vision. Your eyes stared in shock at the sight of your boyfriend, smiling back at you in scrubs as he wrote away in his clipboard and looking as if he hadn’t aged a day. You internally screamed at your body to move, crying from within the inside at the inability, and then soon growing tired, realizing it’d never be possible. As he put away documents in a file holder pinned to the high wall, you stressed your throat to speak, hoping for the least a sound to follow, but instead, it was your silence.

“I’ll just open the blinds a bit, make sure they’re not too much light in your eyes. Too bad your nap was a little long. The weather was so good. I thought we could roll you out into the garden.”

You are losing your mind. The last thing you could remember was a car accident that felt like mere seconds ago and staring into the eyes of the man before you, who matched the love in your eyes. Now you’re imprisoned in your own immobile body, with no clue why and how the love of your life survived when you barely did.

“Your heart is pounding. Wait a second.”

Chan strode over to the monitor just out of view, forcing yourself to rely on your peripheral to watch him. His side profile and his body were all within reach but unassessable. You felt the sweat of your palm through the sheer determination alone, but to no avail, he stayed away from your grasp.

“Hmm, we’ll have to figure that out.”

Finishing up, he stood in front of you like a figure of light radiating brightness unfathomable to man. A light bright enough to fully grasp your reality. Your true reality.

That’s right. He’s not your boyfriend. You were never together.

You’ve been the way you were for two years, by a car accident nonetheless. This was Nurse Lee–your caretaker and nurse–who insisted you call him by name and talked to you as if you could talk right back.

And this wasn’t the 1970s. It was the 2070s.

Your gaze quickly turned to “Three's a Company” playing on the highly advanced TV plastered on the wall, momentarily surprised that they still had the show on cable, before snapping right back to your nurse, now going on about the daily work gossip. You couldn’t help but stare again, watching his handsome face turn up in a smile every time something delightful popped into his pretty little head as he spoke. Your eyes fluttered in remorse, a familiar sinking feeling in your chest as you inhaled and exhaled through your breathing tubes.

It all made so much sense. Too much in fact. Here you were in dreamland living in disbelief that someone as sweet and kind and Charming as Lee Chan—nurse Lee Chan—would ever be someone so madly in love with you. You lived a happy and healthy and normal life in your dreams, shutting off from the dark truth of your world is, as if you’ve never been in this accident. You dreamt of life before it was taken away before you narrowly escaped death.

If you could call this escaping death anyway. You were practically dead.

And perhaps the worst part—

“Vivian liked the flowers you suggested. I think she’ll finally stop being mad at me thanks to you.”

He gently moved your head to fluff the pillow behind you and placed you back on top. He brushed away a hair that strayed over your face, and you felt a sensation pulse through your fingers. “I wish you could meet her. You’ve always been there to listen to me talk about the wedding planning, the bridal stuff, and then the actual wedding. I hope you liked the photos, the guy we hired was—phew—a pretty penny.”

You started to blink rapidly, seeing your reality crumbling before you, and all he could do was look as devastatingly beautiful as always, even with the dark circle under his eyes from long hours of work.

“I talk a lot, huh? That’s what you’re thinking. Sorry, you’ve always been a listener, not that you can help it.” He chuckled to himself. “Sorry, dark joke. I’m sure if you could move now, you’d laugh.”

No, you wouldn’t.

“I’ll be out of your hair in a second. Don’t worry.”

He did the last round of his thorough check-up of your room before standing by the door with his clipboard in hand. Clicking his pen, he turned back to you one last time with a smile now turned bittersweet.

“Any day now. Your heart pulses a little faster every day. Your family is waiting for you. And because I’ve grown attached to you I’m waiting for you too. Maybe after all this, we could be friends, then you can tell me how much you love or hate when I talk to you. Just as long as you’re up and running again.”

The moment the door closed, you were alone again. The fluid built in your tear ducts finally found their escape and streamed down your still face, facing their discomforting warmth. Your chest heaved, your grew breaths shallow, your throat went dry, and suddenly your lips quivered. In solitude and sheer desperation, you said your first words in years.

“Chan…come…back…”

But it didn’t matter.

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neteyamyawne · 4 months

Text

🎀 — Cockwarming

༄ Pairing : Miles Quaritch x Fem!Scientist!reader

༄ Summary : You have always the colonel's personal plaything, His little slut, and when he says has a phone call in the midst of fucking you into oblivion, he makes sure to have his cock nice and warm till the call ends.

༄ Warning : semi-public sex? Cockwarming, PinV, Daddy/babygirl dynamic, age gap, explicit.

༄ Word count : 1k proof read.

༄ Note : Y'all I'm so down bad for him, like omg! And I'm sorry so SUCH a late update, but life's been giving me like a ton of lemons and I don't have enough time to make lemonade but I'm trying, I'm getting into writing again (in between my exams, i know I'm crazy) all my pending fics will come!!

It was usual wednesday afternoon, head bent down on your desk with a new plant specimen that Daniel, the department head, needed an detailed report on, which meant EVERY detail was meant to be written, rushing from one station to another as you collected information diligently as the afternoon slipped late and so did an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him as you squealed in surprise but he was quick to place a hand on your mouth to stop it as he bent down and chuckled near your ear.

“Wacha doing, cupcake?” he grumbled against your neck, pressing a few kisses and a few nips to your cheek and ear, not giving you enough time to react as he threw you over his shoulder and carried you out of the laboratory like a potato sack while you angrily protested, hitting him with your fists “Put me down, you tall smurf, I have work!!”

He raised his eyebrow at your nickname and smacked your ass making you squeak in embarrassment “What did you call me, cupcake?” his tone was low enough to give you your needed warning about what was to come but you couldn't help but whine

“I’m working, sir, Daniel would kill me if i don’t complete it soon!” you were slightly exaggerating it but who cares when you were with the colonel himself? He just chuckled at your complaints and walked around the lab to get out without hitting anything “where’s this Daniel guy-” he didn’t have to wait as Daniel himself came grumbling to your desk as he held a file in his hand “Y/n, how many time have I to- told….”

He trailed off as he Quaritch with you on his shoulder, ass up “puny, do you mind if i borrow one of your scientist for a while” his voice dared Daniel to say no, but the nosy scientist knew better as he immediately nodded to the secOps colonel “Of course, of course! she’s… all yours” he said with clear disdain written on his face, of course he couldn’t have you under his thumb for a long while now.

Miles was more than happy as he carried you back to his quarters while your embarrassed face stayed hidden in his muscular back, other passerbyers were not surprised at the scene, being used to it by now, it was a weekly occurrence if not daily and he took nothing but pride in the fact that others were watching, he didn’t give a fuck.

»»————-　𑁍　————-««

You knew what was coming and you fucking enjoyed the thorough drilling he gave you, his sweet cupcake who could do no wrong, his hand on your bare back, guiding your wet pussy on his cock like a wet glove, ass smacking into his skin with rhythmic slaps, your gasps muffled by his huge hand covering your saliva coated mouth.

"just like that cupcake... Such a sweet little whore for me, ay? Letting daddy fuck your brains out" He growls in your ear as he fists your hair, gripping it tightly to send that delirious shiver down your spine, your messed up moans were incoherent to understand as he picks you up and flips you over like a rag doll before pulling out, laying down on his back after he pulls you on top of him, making you sink down on him again without any mercy.

Your whimpers were unheard of by him as Miles only gave you a few minutes before he was pistoning his hips back up into your dripping cunt, making your tits bounce almost pornographically, a string of slurs escaped your mouth as he coached your body to bounce on his cock "Fuck! Daddy... Thrust... S- shit"

He just smirked at your angelic voice, tired from the relentless rounds until a holographic square appeared on the bedside table, vibration loudly as bold letters showed who called "General Ardmore" bright on the screen

It was quiet for a minute as he stopped, placing you down, cock still snug in your warmth, both of you quiet for a while before he spoke "Keep your mouth shut for me okay? Don't want her to hear you, hmm?" He whispered before he sat up, an unwilling groan wisping through your lips until you shut up when met with his glare as he picked up the call and placed it on his ear.

General Ardmore spoke from the other side while he specifically shifted to torment your already overstimulated hole, nudging back and forth and watch as you bite your lip to keep yourself quiet, his other hand gently caressing your waist, sharp eyes following your shaking legs to the point of connection of your bodies.

He purposely placed the call on the speaker, making you listen to her points about the new mission but all you see and hear were his smirk and quiet chuckles as he kept you impaled on himself, the call was long and agonizing, having you as his Cockwarmer while chatting with her like he wasn't engaged in something much more serious

As he talked to her about the details when he moved up inside you and you squealed suddenly and he stopped, Ardmore stopped "Colonel, is someone there with you?" He scrutinized you heavily and you couldn't help but squirm under his gaze "No, General must be some wild animal outside" he covered up for you as he covered your mouth.

He spoke and nodded to the general's words, keeping your mouth shut and fucking you silently "understood, General, I'd work on it" he said gruffly before ending the call the threw the phone on the mattress before he saw your tear-stained face and rolled his eyes "you sneaky slut, can't keep your mouth shut can you? Then show daddy how loudly you can scream my name" he smiled maliciously before flipping you over with his hand snaking to your throat.

Ho Ho Ho : @cryinginthemoonpool, @luvv4j4ybe11, @xylianasblog, @plooto, @itchaboi-itchyboy, @pandoraslxna, @taylormarieee, @thewiltedpeony, @neteyamswillow, @danniackerman, @hotdsworld, @zafrinaxyz, @xstarsdiary, @moondaisye, @puddle-nerd, @eywxveng, @minnory, @neteyamssyulang , @tavsianus, @ele-sme.

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teapartyprincess4two · 2 months

Note

heyyy idk if you've been on tiktok but currently in like the editing fandom everyone's been editing the triplets to the song 18 by Anarbor so I was just wondering if you could maybe write for Matt because I think it just fits so well but surprisingly I don't think I've ever seen anyone write for the triplets based on that song and I think you would slayyyy it. I know you've got a couple requests and others you're working on rn so no pressure, even if you don't end up doing this request I'd eat up anything you put out 💋💋

I’ll Play Your Game- M. Sturniolo

pairing: GoodGirl!reader x BadBoy!Matt

classification: angst, fluff

warnings: use of y/n, suggestive content but no smut, mention of parental issues, controlling parents, mentions smoking, rebellious reader, mention of religion & religious trauma, mention of church, reference to the Bible (brief), cliche high school stereotypes/ tropes, long

inspiration: request^^, 18 by Anarbor

summary: You’re the Pastor’s daughter, all eyes are always on you. So, why not put on a show?

—

Ever since you were a little girl everyone expected three things from you; be sweet, pray, and obey. There were 10 commandments, all of them listed plain and simple in the Bible, and you were expected to follow them all. Your dad was strict, he had high expectations of you from the day you were born and upheld them throughout your infancy and childhood. Your mom was a pushover, she’d let your father brain wash her long ago into believing that his way was the only ways.

Your dad kept your weekly itinerary filled to the brim with activities to ensure that you had zero time to misbehave. Everyday after school, without fail, there was at least one activity waiting for you. Monday’s were for Bible study, on Tuesday you had golf practice, the afternoon prayer circle was on Wednesday, piano practice on Thursday, on Friday’s you’d volunteer at a food bank, Saturday’s were for homework and chores, and Sunday was the Lord’s day. Sunday’s were always dedicated to church, if you even thought of doing anything else you’d never hear the end of it from your dad.

That’s why, at the ripe age of 18, you’ve decided enough is enough. You’ve made it your sole mission to rebel against your dad and his ideologies, you’d remove the ‘good girl’ label from your life once and for all. But, if you were being honest, you’d followed the rules for so long that you didn’t even know where to begin.

The only good thing your parents did was send you to a public school, deeming Christian school too expensive despite it aligning more with their views. You’ve made a few friends, most of them also conformists, but no one who’d help you properly rebel against your parents. So, if you wanted to do this right, you needed to find someone new with a bad reputation; Matthew Sturniolo.

Matt was the textbook definition of a bad boy, and if there was a guide he’d definitely check off all the boxes. He had the angsty, quiet demeanor with a touch of humor. His body adorned with a multitude of tattoos, each one representing something different from his life. His hair was long enough to be considered too long by conservative parents, framing his face just around his scruffy beard perfectly. The outfits he wore, matched his mysterious persona perfectly, allowing him to disappear into the shadows seamlessly.

If anyone was going to help you piss off your parents, it was definitely going to be Matt. But you had to start off slowly, this wasn’t a one and done type of plan, it was more intricate than that and you were playing the long game. If you wanted to get to Matt, you needed to get to get to one of his triplet brothers first.

You had two options; Chris or Nick.

Chris was your stereotypical jock. He was the captain of the school’s varsity hockey team, occupying most of his Friday nights with hockey games and following them with a Saturday night full of partying. His weekdays were obviously spent at school, but he did the bare minimum to keep his grades up, he focused most of his attention on flirting with girls. Chris was loud, outgoing, flirtatious, and way too popular for his own good. If you tried getting to Matt through him, he’d surely think you were flirting.

So, if you wanted this to work, you needed someone equally as popular, but not as cocky.

That left you with Nick. Nick was on a completely different side of the popularity spectrum than Chris; he was your stereotypical cheerleader. He, much like Chris, spent his Friday’s at hockey games except he was leading his team in cheers and chants instead. The rest of his time was spent organizing the important school events such as prom and homecoming, and when he wasn’t doing that he was boosting student morale through heartfelt speeches at school assemblies.

Nick was the perfect contender and since cheer tryout were opening up soon, it was the perfect excuse to get to know him. First, you’d earn your spot on the cheerleading team. Then, you’d slowly enter Nick’s inner circle, using it as leverage to finally get to Matt.

It was the perfect plan. What could go wrong?

—

One of your dad’s frequented sermons plays over the car stereo as he drives you to school, he’s adamant on silence in the car so you can fully absorb the message behind the sermon. It doesn’t bother you anymore, you usually just tune it out and scroll through your phone, especially on weekday mornings on the way to school.

Before you fell asleep last night you decided that today was the day, cheer tryouts were after school and you were going to saunter in there, perform your best routine, and complete the first step of your plan.

“Listen, Y/n. This is important,” your dad snaps his fingers in front of your face, breaking your gaze from your phone. He turns the sound up, the words of the sermon taking over the car, “Children, obey your parents. Do as you are told and you will be blessed.”

You rolls your eyes, it was always the same thing with you dad. “See, be obedient. God will only bless you if you’re obedient,” he says. The man on the stereo continues, “Parents, do not anger your chil-“ Before the man can finish his sentence, your dad turns the sound off. If he had to follow any rules that gave you any sort of power, he didn’t want to hear them. You side eye him, glad that he’s too focused on the road to notice.

Most kids hate school, they claim it’s a waste of time or that they hate doing all the work, but not you. You’ll gladly welcome the extra hours of homework, volunteer opportunities after school, and early tutoring sessions just for an excuse to get as far away from your controlling family as possible.

Your dad pulls up to the school parking lot, immediately commenting on something he found distasteful before bidding you goodbye. “Be the light, Y/n!” he exclaims as you hop off the car, shutting the car door without turning back to him. A wave of relief washes over you when he pulls out of the parking lot, you felt so tense the entire car ride. But now that you were finally at school, it was time to put your plan into full effect.

You were getting rid of the ‘good girl’ title no matter what.

—

When the last school bell rings you’re practically flying down the stairs to the gym. You wanted to get to the girl’s locker room as quick as possible so you could be the first in line for cheer tryouts. Nothing said ‘co-captain’ like punctuality. Or, actually, would it be better to make a fashionably late entrance? You shake the thought off, you’re just going to be on time. You’re sure Nick would appreciate it.

The tryout requires that you wear a pleated skirt along with a school shirt so that the judges know what you look like in school colors and that you know how to perform in a cheer uniform. As a classified church girl, you had a wide variety of skirts to choose from, but you made sure to pick your newest one just for the occasion. You changed quickly in the locker room, tying a bow into your hair before anyone else arrived.

When the second person entered the locker room, you were already walking out, mentally going through your routine in your head. If you wanted a spot in Nick’s inner circle, you needed to execute this routine perfectly. You choreographed it yourself after watching endless hours of cheer routine videos, making sure to incorporate as many dazzling moves as possible.

The gym is quiet, the only sound being Nick and two teachers setting up the judges table. They’re surprised to see you already dressed and ready to perform, no one had ever been this early before. They’re even more shocked that you’re here, everyone knows you’re the Pastor’s daughter and the cheer team was known for everything but modesty.

“Are you here for tryouts?” Nick asks, a big smile on his faces. He’s excited for the new year and to find a new co-captain amidst the crowd of talented dancers and performers.

“Yes, my name is y/n,” you reply, watching as he finds your name on one of his many clipboards. Suddenly, now that you’re standing in the gym, you don’t feel so confident anymore. The nerves are starting to settle and you’re becoming anxious at the thought of forgetting your routine, messing up and embarrassing yourself, or just not being good enough to make the team let alone become co-captain.

One of the teachers heaves a large stereo onto the desk, connecting it her phone and cueing up your song before asking, “Alright, Y/n. You ready?” Shaky, sweaty hands smooth down your pleated skirt, a long exhale following right after. It was now or never, if you wanted to get back at your dad for all the years of religious trauma it was going to start now.

“I’m ready.”

The teacher smiles at you, all the judges taking a seat behind the table as she presses play on the song. A funky pop beat plays over the stereo, and immediately your routine is in full swing. One of the male judges is humming along to the music, all their eyes trained on you as you dance along the gym floor. The song wasn’t necessarily inappropriate, but you managed to pull out as many sultry moves as possible.

Nick is instantly impressed by your routine, taking down a few notes on how graceful and elegant you move. The teachers, who are mostly there out of obligation, refer to their rubric before giving you a final score. If Nick could have it his way, he’d make you co-captain then and there, but there’s plenty of other girls still waiting to tryout.

You finish your routine in a split, slightly out of breath but trying to keep your composure. The music stops, but the noise is replaced with the judges clapping for your performance, “Great work! The team list will be posted end of day tomorrow. NEXT!”

Just like that you’re being rushed out of the gym for the next girl as Nick sends you an enthusiastic thumbs up. All you could do was hope you earned a spot on the team, and by the way Nick looked at you, you were almost 100% you’d be this years cheer co-captain.

You’re daydreaming about making the team, feeling confident that your plan is working and you’re not paying attention to where you’re waking. So, on the way back to the locker room you accidentally bump into someone, their hard chest causing you to stumble back slightly.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize, looking up at who just bumped into.

“No problem,” a deep voice croaks in return, you’d recognize that voice anywhere. You look up to see none other than Matt, fully clad in his signature all black style. His hair falls in front of his face, hiding just enough of his eyes to give him an even more mysterious aura. He smells of cigarettes and cologne, a delicious scent that has you weak in the knees.

Without another word, just a sly smirk, Matt is walking past you and into the gym. He saunters up the bleachers, managing to find a perfectly secluded corner to hide in. Not long after, he’s joined by Chris who just finished hockey practice. Chris doesn’t bother hiding, instead he sits right next to Matt where the gym lights are still illuminating. They’re both waiting for Nick so they can head home, and although they’re tired from the school day, they’ll gladly stay a couple extra hours to watch all the pretty girls do their tryout routines.

Matt can feel you watching him, allowing the darkness to serve as a veil as he looks you up and down. He’s noticed you in the halls before, but never took you for a cheerleader. You can’t even see Matt anymore, but you have to force yourself to look away, quickly continuing your walk back to the locker room.

The next day after school you’re once again rushing down the stairs, trying to get to the bulletin before anyone else. You push past a few people, weaving your way through the crowded hallway. This is the defining moment, if you made the team you’d be one step closer to achieving your final goal: get Matthew Sturniolo.

You must’ve been lost in thought because you once again manage to bump into someone. You stumble back, some of your textbooks falling out of your arms and onto the floor in the process.

“You need to watch where you’re going, sweetheart,” Matt says, reaching his arms out to steady you before you can fall over. The nickname turned your legs to jelly.

How was it that you always managed to bump into him? It almost seemed like fate.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” you reply sincerely, kneeling down to pick up your books from the floor. He does the same, picking up one of your stray books, fingertips grazing your hand when he hands it to you. Your eyes can’t help but travel up his arm, mentally counting and admiring the different tattoos that litter his arms. He notices, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Y/n, right?” You hold your textbooks in a firm, anxious grip as you stand up. Matt is still kneeling, your knees aligned with his face. He lets his eyes trail up your legs and up to your face, a devilish grin on his face. The position felt so compromising, but you had to try an act casual.

“Yeah, you’re Matt. Right?” He hums in response, tracing your entire silhouette one last time before he finally stands up. His height causes him to tower over you, a whiff of his cologne once again hitting you, immediately putting you in a deep trance. Matt is handsome and he knows it, he notices how hypnotized you looked and it only serves as an ego boost.

“See you around, Y/n,” he smirks, sending you a quick wink as he walks outside. “See you around,” you reply meekly, mentally facepalming for letting the anxiety take you over.

You felt like a little mouse who finally gained the courage to scavenge for food only to be chased around by a ravenous cat. The only sounds coming from you being squeaks and chirps, too anxious to form coherent words. This was going to be harder than you thought.

When you finally reached the bulletin, your eyes scanned over the new team roster. Your name was all the way at the bottom in bold, capitalized letters, ‘Y/N: CO-CAPTAIN.’ At least you did that part right.

—

It’s been 2 months since your cheer audition and since then you’ve risen in popularity dramatically. As co-captain you were invited to join Nick at his table for lunch and worked closely alongside him to choreograph new routines. This led you two to become close, your friendship blossoming over the countless hours of cheer practice.

Your dad hated that you were a cheerleader, finding issues in everything about it. He deemed the uniform too provocative, the cheers too sexual, and claiming that you were spending too much time practicing and not enough time studying your Bible. The only reason he didn’t force you to quit was because your mom finally grew a backbone and stuck up for you, advocating that this was a good hobby for you. Cheerleading was the perfect scapegoat, even on the odd days when you didn’t have practice you were able to sneak out of all your other responsibilities. No more piano, golf practice, volunteering at the food bank, or Bible study for you.

Eventually, the hockey season ended so you and Nick modified the chants to fit the lacrosse field. Chris was known to play every sport possible, so you weren’t surprised to see ‘STURNIOLO’ written across one of the jerseys running on the field. But upon further examination, you realized you were seeing double. Matt, who usually watched from the sidelines, was running plays alongside his brother and absolutely dominating the field.

It was hard for you to focus on your routine, your eyes kept following his sweaty figure as it raced across the field. Nick, who notices your sudden offbeat performance, was sending you warning looks to get it together. But you couldn’t help it, Matt had an alluring aura to him that seemed to draw you in without fail each time.

The school band plays loudly over the course of the game, making it hard to hear anything other than the loud drums and trumpets. During a small break, Nick nudges you, mouthing a quick “what the fuck?” You give him an apologetic smile, adjusting your uniform slightly before mouthing back an “I’m sorry.” He gives you a look that says, ‘yeah, you better be’ before getting back in position, ready to cheer the rest of the night away. You do the same, forcing yourself not to look at Matt for the rest of the game.

Before you know it, the game is over and the stadium was filled with hooting and hollering as Matt scored the winning goal. The school and his entire tram cheered for him in unison. You and Nick guided the bleacher full of students in a big chant, cheering for the lacrosse team loudly for their victory, “Yeah, yeah, do we rock? Yeah, yeah, take it to the top! Yeah, yeah, we are never gonna stop! Get wins till the other team drops!” Pompoms are in the air, rhythmically swaying to the beat, your feet twisting and turning as you pop your hips.

These type of events were always full of school spirit, but when they ended and the team headed towards the lockers and the cheerleaders went in search of their boyfriends, the air quickly became chaotic. Especially with everyone else piling off the bleachers and into the parking lot, trying to get home before it got too dark. You stay back and chat with Nick for a while before he dismisses himself to find one of his brothers.

So, now you’re left to wander the field on your own, taking a seat on the grass under the bright stadium lights. You loved moments like this, moments when you got to be alone with your thoughts. All you could think about was Matt, and for a second you thought he might be here on the field with you, the smell of his cologne and cigarette smoke whipping past you with the breeze. You look around, thinking your mind was playing tricks on you.

But it’s not, you see the light at the end of his cigarette deep within the shadows, followed by cigarette smoke that forms a cloud once it dances into the light. For some reason you feel bold, or maybe it’s just the same alluring feeling from earlier that makes you stand up and walk over to him. You can’t see him, but the lit cigarette between his fingers serves as a place marker for his location, the embers crackling brightly in the dark.

Matt’s eyes train on your figure as it approaches, squinting slightly in confusion. He’s never taken you for a smoker, but then again he didn’t take you for a cheerleader and you were clearly the best dancer on the team.

The whole night he couldn’t stop sneaking glances at you, even earning a tongue lashing from his coach for missing a few passes. Towards the end he had to force himself to focus, scoring the winning point in hopes of impressing you.

It obviously worked because once your eyes adjust to the darkness you’re commenting on it, “Good job on the field today, that last play was awesome.” There’s a twinge of innocence in your voice that Matt wants to destroy. “Thanks, you weren’t too bad yourself,” he replies, taking a long inhale of his cigarette before blowing the smoke away from you. The wind only blows it back into your face anyways, causing you to cough slightly.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, ready to flick the cigarette on the floor and stomp it out. But you stop him, a gentle hand holding his arm, “no it’s okay, I’ll get used to it.” The comment is bold, but you needed to be bold if you wanted to get Matt.

Was this the same girl that everyone knew as the Pastor’s daughter? Where was all this sudden confidence coming from?

“Oh, will you?” he asks with a quirked eyebrow, dusting the ash off his cigarette before taking another hit. You hum in response, slowly moving closer to him, allowing him to blow the smoke close enough to your face for it to sting. You hold in a cough, offering Matt an innocent smile that he returns with a smirk.

If this was the game you were starting, he was ready to play.

—

From that moment forward, Matt has been obsessed with you. He gave himself a day to decide whether he wanted to pursue you or not, but after hearing his lacrosse buddies talking about you one time after practice, he decided no one else could have you. The comments they were making were typical, the same things they said about every girl they found attractive, but because it was about you it irked him.

So, two days after your fateful encounter on the lacrosse field, Matt was waiting for you to finish cheer practice from outside the gym, fully clad in his lacrosse uniform, sweaty and dirty from practicing just moments before. Chris was standing nearby, chatting up another cheerleader who snuck out of the gym to be with him. Nick always reprimanded Chris for this, especially because it directly affected her performance and it showed on the field when she was struggling to keep up.

Matt debated on whether or not he should do the same, call you out from practice to tell you everything that was on his mind, but he loved watching you perfectly execute your routines during games. He wanted his girl to be the best, outperforming everyone else seamlessly. So, instead he decided to patiently wait for you.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the music in the gym turns off and he can hear sneakers against the waxy floor as you all rush towards the locker room. For someone so dark and mysterious, Matt actually found himself getting excited.

Not long after, you and Nick walk out of the locker room. You’re laughing at something Nick said as you sling your duffel bag on your shoulder. Matt watches as you throw you head back in laughter, the bow in your hair twirling in the wind.

Nick instinctively walks towards his brothers and you follow suit, still too immersed in the conversation to notice Matt. Once you’re close enough, Nick sends the cheerleader talking to Chris a disapproving look that has her scurrying away and into the locker room.

“What was that for??” Chris exclaims, watching as the girl he was chatting up disappears. “Dude you always distract her, it shows on the field. She has the sloppiest performance out of everyone on the team,” Nick comments blatantly, readjusting his bag on his shoulder. “So? Just kick her off then!” Chris retaliates, running an exasperated hand through his hair. “Would you date her if she wasn’t on the team?” you chime in, laughing at how flustered Chris has become. He thinks about it for a while, “no, yeah probably not.”

His response elicits a laugh from you and a scoff from Nick, who begins scolding him. Matt is watching you intently, trying to gain your attention through some form of telepathy. You feel his burning gaze on you, finally looking at him through your long, thick eyelashes. “What about you? Any girls on the team won your heart yet?” you ask, a playful grin appearing on your face. After your last encounter with him, you’re hoping he doesn’t even know anyone else on the roster and just blurts out your name.

“Hmmm maybe,” he replies with a smirk, reaching in his pocket for his lighter and a cigarette. “Oh really? Mr. Tough Guy’s in love?” you tease, watching as he places a cigarette in between his lips and lights it with ease, taking a quick draw of it before pinching it away. Nick and Chris have started walking to the parking lot at this point, too immersed in their own world to notice you and Matt flirting.

“Something like that,” the smoke puffs out with each word, swirling in the air before fading away. He brings the cigarette back up onto his lips, intently waiting for you next move. What you say next is unexpected, “can I try?” You’re pointing at the cigarette innocently, causing Matt’s eyes to open in shock.

“Too strong for you, sweetheart,” he replies coyly, blowing the smoke out through the side of his mouth. “How am I supposed to get used to it then?” you’re referring to what you said the other day, hoping to jog his memory and let him know that you still want him.

Matt doesn’t skip a beat, within seconds he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into him. “Slowly,” he answers in a whisper, taking a long drag of his cigarette before moving his face closer to yours. You’re holding onto his shoulders for support, watching intently as his face gets closer and closer to yours.

Without another word, his lips are inches from yours as he exhales the smoke into your mouth, capturing your lips in a quick kiss. His mouth melts into yours, working the smoke into your lungs with each movement. When he pulls away from the kiss, you’re immediately coughing up a storm. Your nose burns and tears brim at your eyes from the strong sensation.

“Told you it was too strong for you,” he comments with a chuckle, putting the cigarette out on the brick wall behind him before moving his other arm around your waist. Once you’re finally not coughing he speaks again, “Here, let’s try that again, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, moving your hands from his chest to his neck. He leans in for another kiss, this time savoring your sweet kiss without any smoke to inhibit his taste buds.

In that moment, Matt knew he didn’t have to say anything else, you became his girl.

—

The next few weeks were amazing, you finally got everything you wanted, all you needed to do now was flaunt all of it in front of your dad and watch how horrified he became.

“Hi baby,” Matt whispers, throwing an arm over your shoulder while you wait in the lunch line. Matt never ate lunch at school, he’d usually get in his car and hit up the nearest fast food place or walk off campus for a smoke break. He found the cafeteria to be too chaotic, there was nowhere to seclude himself and even less areas to eat a meal in peace and quiet. But, that you two are dating, he’s started dragging you along on his school day adventures. Sometimes you’ll just get lunch, other times you’ll sit and talk to him while he smokes, but most times you’ll end up making out in the backseat of his car.

“Hi handsome,” you reply in a cheery tone, tiptoeing so you can plant a quick peck on his lips. He smiles into the kiss.

“Let’s go to my car? I’ll treat you to lunch, pretty girl,” he suggests, already beginning to walk towards his car with you under his arm. You don’t complain, especially because this is the closest you’d ever get to real dates with Matt, especially when under the careful watch of your parents.

You guys end up at a local Mexican restaurant, it was a restaurant that your family frequented on Sunday’s after church so you were well acquainted with it. Once inside, you and Matt are directed to a booth in the back, perfectly secluded and away from prying eyes. He takes a seat across from you, smiling at you in a lovesick gaze.

Maybe it was too early to say it, but Matt definitely felt it; he loved you. He was apprehensive to admit it, even just to himself, because he was scared to get hurt, but so far your relationship has been nothing but sweet.

The waitress takes your order and you don’t even need to look at the menu to know what you want which catches Matt by surprise. “You bring all your boyfriends here?” he jokes, folding the menu and handing it to the waitress after placing his order. “Only the cute ones,” you joke in return, sending him a playful wink. He laughs, holding your hand in his on the table.

“This is my dad’s favorite restaurant, we come here like every Sunday after service,” you explain, taking a quick sip of your drink. Matt nods his head, of course he didn’t suspect you were cheating, but he appreciated the explanation.

“Your dad has good taste,” he comments. You never spoke about your family so everything he knew was by word of mouth. He knew the basics; your dad was a Pastor, you came from a conservative family, and your Sundays were usually occupied with church.

You hum in response, trying to think of a topic to avert the conversation from your dad, and, as if on cue, the front door rings. A customer just walked into the restaurant, nothing out of the ordinary, but upon further inspection you realize it’s your dad. You’re mid sip, choking slightly on the liquid as you try quickly swallowing from the shock.

Matt notices your distress, following your gaze to see what has you so nervous all of a sudden. That’s when he sees him, your dad standing by the front waiting to be seated. Matt’s not scared, but he is nervous to possibly meet your dad. He wants to make a good impression, but with the tattoos, long hair, and lingering smell of cigarette smoke, he doubts he’ll be successful in doing that.

“Speak of the devil,” you mumble, watching closely for your dad’s next move.

Matt’s surprised you’re not rushing to leave, you actually look calm now, almost like you’re hoping your dad will be seated one booth over. For the first time in your relationship he senses an ulterior motive behind your actions and he doesn’t know whether to be scared or turned on.

He remembers the good girl you were, the girl who always arrived to class on time, the girl who would never be caught skipping school and he wonders where this sudden rebellious nature came from. But now he gets it, this is a game to you, you want your dad to catch you skipping school with the ‘bad boy,’ you want to make your dad so upset his face turns red. Matt doesn’t know what to think about that, but if this is the game then he’d happily play along, he’d do anything for his girl.

The restaurant host sits your dad a few booths down and he situates himself in the seat directly facing you, if he looks your way at the right angle he’d easily see you. But he’s too occupied in conversation with the waitress to notice anything, ordering his food before pulling out a book.

“Here’s your food, Miss Y/n,” the waitress says with a smile, placing plates of food on the table. The waitress learned your name from all the years your family visited the restaurant, and although you appreciated the effort, you wanted to slap a hand against her mouth for giving you away. Matt’s eyes go wide, she said it really loud, did your dad hear?

“Thank you,” you reply quickly with a tight lipped smile, trying to shoo her away as fast as possible. You look back towards your dad’s booth, fully expecting him to still be turning pages in his book, but his eyes are locked on you. He’s seething, you can practically see the smoke coming from his ears.

You waited for him to get up from the booth and walk over to your table, but instead he pulls out his wallet and throws a bill on the table, grabbing his stuff and walking out. The waitress watches in confusion, and so do you. What the hell was he doing?

Matt senses the movement, straining his neck to watch your dad walk out. He suddenly becomes nervous because even though he wanted to help you piss off your parents, he also wanted to be the boyfriend parents welcomed with open arms despite his appearance.

When you finish eating, you’re walking out of the restaurant intently searching for your dad. He was sure to be lurking around the parking lot somewhere. You’re holding Matt’s hand, walking slowly to his car.

“Y/n! Where do you think you’re going?!” your dad’s voice booms from the other side of the parking lot. He waited outside until you and Matt finished your meal, not wanting to make a scene in his favorite restaurant.

You watch as he slams the car door closed, storming over to you and Matt with an unreadable expression on his face. “Is this what I send you to school for? So you can skip with.. with this?! What will people think? What will the church think? The pastors daughter off fornicating with a- with a delinquent,” your dad motions up and down Matt’s body, clearly displeased with his appearance and attire. It makes you so mad, but you don’t even get the chance to respond because your dad won’t stop talking, “You’re coming home with me right now. Say goodbye to your phone, cheerleading, and this boy because you’re never seeing them again!”

He attempts to grab your arm, but you pull away. “Y/n. Do not make this any more difficult than it already is. Let’s go!”

“No.” Your reply is short and curt, but it’s stern enough to appall your father.

“No? No?! Who do you think you are?! You’re nothing but a stupid little girl, now get in the car.” He reaches for you again, this time managing to pinch your skin slightly. “Ow, stop,” you exclaim, pushing him away from you slightly. Matt protectively moves you behind him in one quick swoop, using his body to prevent your dad from touching you again.

“Get out of the way, this is between me and my daughter.”

“Not happening,” Matt replies, towering over your dad.

“This is what you want, Y/n? A stupid hippie? He reeks of cigarettes and has tattoos, didn’t I teach you better?!” Matt is fuming at this point, your dad was the most disrespectful person he’d ever met. “Dad, just go. I’m not choosing you over Matt,” you reply, trying to stand your ground, but sounding so weak and small.

“I’m not asking you to choose me, I’m asking you to choose God. But if you want to choose this boy, then go ahead, but don’t come knocking on my door when he gets you pregnant and leaves you,” he yells. Was he kicking you out?

“What?” you ask, stepping out from behind Matt.

“You heard me, girl. Don’t bother coming home unless it’s without him.”

Without another word your dad is walking back to his car and pulling out of the parking lot, driving away and leaving you with nothing but the dust. You watch with teary eyes as his car disappears into the horizon, you never meant for it to end like this. All you wanted was a little freedom, but your rebellious actions have warranted a consequence you never anticipated.

“Hey, hey. It’s gonna be okay,” Matt whispers, bringing you in for a warm hug. He’s patting your hair as you bury your face in his chest, allowing the tears to flow. “What am I supposed to do? Where am I supposed to go?” you hiccup, wrapping your arms around Matt’s torso in an attempt to feel him closer.

“You can stay at my house,” he replies and he means it, he’d do anything for you. In retrospect he should’ve seen this coming from the moment he realized you were trying to piss off your parents, but he’s too far gone now to turn back. Matt’s too in love with you at this point for his own good, the only thing he can think to do is protect you.

“Are you sure?” you feel like a helpless little mouse again, except this time Matt feels like a security blanket instead of a potential threat.

“I’m sure.” Matt places a loving kiss on your lips before kissing your forehead and pulling you into him again.

Whatever happened, you and Matt were going to get through it together. After all, Matt decided to play your game.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

Shwoop here you go luv u honey bunches thank you for the request. I hope you enjoy!!

Also, I had never heard this song before but it’s def going on my playlist now & I will be searching for those tiktok edits hehehe

-L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

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eomayas · 2 months

Text

stay the night • kmg (f, sg)

pairing: mingyu x f!reader, situationshippy genre: fluff, brief mentions of sex

synopsis: reader and mingyu have their first sleepover.

warnings: none

a/n: ahhh i love mingyu sm

this… this thing that you have with mingyu, you’re not even sure what it is anymore. what started out as a simple match on tinder, what should have only been a little one night stand but instead turned turned into a weekly thing, had suddenly lost its initial purpose. attachment wasn’t apart of the deal. it was mutually agreed upon that neither of you were looking for anything more serious that what you swiped right for.

so that’s why you’re staring at him, confusion etched on your face as you sit quietly at his dinner table while he serves you a plate of food that he cooked—from scratch. mingyu gently places a glass of water next to your plate and gives you a soft smile that makes your stomach flip and your chest ache; neither of which are apart of your deal.

the feeling isn’t new; for the past few times you two have hung out, once or more you’ve gotten butterflies in your stomach, like some little schoolgirl. another new development: seeing him multiple times a week, rather than every wednesday like typical.

“eat,” mingyu says, nodding at your plate of food before digging into his.

“i didn’t know you cooked,” you comment, shoveling a healthy portion onto your fork. mingyu only raises his eyebrows, as if saying just you wait. he watches you a little too closely for your arrangement, waiting to see your reaction when you taste his cooking.

seconds later, your expression matches his previous one, eyebrows nearly at your hairline and eyes wide as you taste his cooking. it was better than you expected, many flavors coming together to blend nicely.

swallowing, you nod your head. “i didn’t know you cooked this good,” you say. mingyu smiles, cheeks reddening at the compliment. he rarely ever cooked for somebody else other than his self, occasionally wonwoo or vernon if they stayed over. it was a big deal that he was cooking for you, and even bigger that you seemed to enjoy it.

“thanks; you can thank my mom, though, for the skills,” he says, a smile so genuine on his face it nearly makes you blush. here’s the thing about mingyu: he’s attractive—extremely attractive. you know it, everybody knows it, he knows it. but he’s also unbelievably cute and charming, and with the way he’s been treating you lately the lines are starting to blur with how you feel about him. it’s supposed to be just sex.

but instead, it simply isn’t, not now that you’re scarfing down the food that he made for the both of you, wearing just his tshirt and your underwear. mingyu watches you finish your food, a small smile on his face. his eyes trail you as you stand up, lingering on your ass for longer than could ever be considered respectful. it reminds him momentarily why you’re here.

“what?” you question, snapping him out of his mild trance. you stand in the kitchen entry, only a few feet away from him.

“nothing,” he says, standing up and running a hand through his hair before walking past you into the kitchen. your eyes follow his large frame, bottom lip between your teeth. mingyu glances at you over his shoulder as he washes his dish, a smirk slowly spreading over his lips. you look away with red cheeks, eyes catching sight of the stovetop clock.

“i should get going,” you say, brushing your fingers through your hair. mingyu hums and turns off the water, drying his hands on a rag before turning to look at you, leaning against a counter.

“or you could stay the night,” he says calmly, hands gripping the edge of countertops tightly. you stare at him, mouth slightly agape. “if you want.” mingyu adds when you don’t speak, his eyes staring into yours intensely.

you drop your hand from your hair and self-consciously cross your arms across your midsection. “i have work in the morning,” you say, resting your head against the wall you’re pressed against. mingyu glances at the clock and shrugs.

“it’s late.”

you bite the inside of your cheek and awkwardly sniff, down-casting your eyes, as you contemplate his suggestion. it violates everything you thought signed up for. it goes way beyond what either of you are supposedly not looking for, but you don’t even know anymore. “i thought we were keeping it casual,” you comment, glancing up at mingyu.

he pushes himself off the counter and crosses two short steps over to you, towering over you and staring down at you. you look up at him with wide eyes, dropping them down to his lips for a split second before repositioning them at his eyes. one of mingyus hands comes to rest on your hip, underneath the long tshirt you wear but over the band of your underwear. “we are,” he says, pressing closer to you.

you suck in a breath and place a hand on his covered abdomen, gently scratching at the material with your nails. “i didn’t think that included staying the night,” he lets out a light snort and you bite your lip and look up at him once more, nearly falling to your knees at the mere sight of him.

mingyu dips his head down and nudges your nose with his own, his warm breath fanning across your face. “it’s whatever you want it to be,” he mutters, placing a kiss to the corner of your lip, his other hand coming to rest on the wall near your head. instinctively, you wrap one of your arms around his neck, the other staying pressed against his torso. “but i do want you to stay the night.” his lips are on yours before you can come up with a response.

he kisses you differently than he normally does. usually, it’s rushed and hot and he’s trying to tear off your clothes while simultaneously pulling you impossibly closer to him. but now, he kisses you slowly, and it’s still hot, but it’s different. his hand that was previously placed on the wall finds its way to the back of your head and cradles it, keeping you positioned where he wants you. you dig your fingers into the short hair at the back of his neck and gently tug.

and you don’t know what this is anymore, or what it means when his hands are tangled in your hair and he’s pressing you into the wall, or when the two of you slink off to his bed and instead of having sex, he cuddles you to sleep. or when you wake up with your head on his chest and his arm draped over your waist. you don’t know what it means, only that you like it and wouldn’t mind doing it more.

#svt imagines #svt fluff #kim mingyu #mingyu x reader #svt x reader #mingyu fluff

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queenofcoquette · 3 months

Text

my current goals

introduction:

hey loves! i made a post like this before the summer and now i feel like updating this with my goals for the 2024 year- when i want to get them done and the habits to get there.

1. getting my permit- february 2 (taking the test)

everyday i've been reading about 20ish pages of the handbook and taking notes

finding online flashcards to test myself on the knowledge

2. getting a job- late april/early may

i'm gonna keep applying to jobs but 1) a lot of places don't hire 15 year olds and 2) a local pizza place already told me i can get a job once i turn 16 which is in late april

once i get a job i want to start taking acting classes (i need to wait until im being paid lol) cuz that seems like a fun thing to do.

3. finishing the schoolyear with a 4.0- late may (when school ends)

daily chem practice since it's my hardest class

reviewing notes for ALL my classes everyday after school

4. launching an etsy shop- maybe late summer to early october

sewing everyday (when i have spare fabric)

trying out new patterns

learning how to make my own sewing patterns

5. growing out my hair/ learning to style it

finding a new shampoo & conditioner

weekly oiling & massages for my scalp (i already do this)

trying new methods to get the look i want for my hair

general habits:

water polo. i recently joined water polo which takes up a lot of my time now, 3-5 pm on all weekdays except wednesday which is 7-9.

reading 20 minutes at home (i already read a lot after i get my work done at school)

writing 500 words per day. i write a lot on weekends but on weekdays i never get much done so i'm gonna start small and then workup from there.

being physically active everyday. i want to get into the habit of doing a small workout after practice before my shower.

nightly prayer. i used to skip my before bed prayers but since the end of summer i've been commiting to pray every night. i might also start praying in the morning.

conclusion:

overall i think it's good to focus on building healthy habits, even more so than goals or resolutions. but i also think there's a lot of value in having goals to work towards and healthy things to focus on. i hope you all have a great year full of health and happiness, i hope we all learn new things and grow as people too. :)

#that girl 2024 #that girl #queenofcoquette #self improvement #pink pilates princess #coquette #it girl #healthy habits #self care

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99hook · 22 days

Text

Risky Business | Two

Your family’s restaurant is on the verge of shutting down, so you make a dangerous deal with the loan sharks in town and find yourself in some sticky situations.

a/n: i’ve been asked about when the next part is coming so much that i decided to drop it a little early. thank you for the motivation babes! remember it’s a mob au so it may not be for everyone.

Part One

It was just after five when you pulled into the parking lot Wednesday morning, your eyes burning from the lack of sleep that coffee couldn’t make up for.

You fumbled with your keys until you found the one for the restaurant, but just before you put it in the lock, you noticed something that made your stomach drop.

“No.” You whispered to yourself, feeling uneasy to your core. You flashed your phone light on the door, your hands already clamming up.

Without a second thought, you swing it open and rush inside. You ran behind the counter and found the cash register left wide open, but you knew you never left money in it over night.

Your real concern was the small safe under the counter that kept all of the money locked up until you took it to the bank, which was usually Thursdays.

Your heart sank to your stomach, a gut wrenching feeling of pure fear sinking in when your eyes dropped to the door of that safe wide open, every last dollar swiped, including the money you owed to the Senerchia’s.

You stood in the same spot for what felt like an eternity, your fear kept your feet practically nailed to the floor as you stared at that safe that previously held what felt like your fate inside of it.

The realization that it was Wednesday and you knew you would never be able to scrape up even a portion of what would suffice for your weekly collect by Friday, caused your mind to completely spiral out of control.

When you should’ve been calling your parents, you just stood there staring at that busted safe as the dreadful uncertainty of what’s to come consumed you.

What was going to happen now? When Hook texts and tells you where to meet and you show up empty handed? You felt like there was a clock ticking, the hands of it taunting you, giving your fate a predetermined deadline.

You only snapped out of the debilitating trance you were in when you heard a car door slam outside. Immediately your eyes shoot to the headlights shining through the window. Your parents don’t usually show up until a right before the restaurant opens at 7. There should be nobody pulling up at 5:15 in the morning.

With no way to lock the door now, your first initial instinct is to run and hide. It dawned on you then that you didn’t even scope the place out to see if someone was still there. All the crime shows you watch and you let basic knowledge slip when your first priority was to make sure the money was still there.

At this point all you could do was hope and pray that some intruder wasn’t lurking silently in a corner waiting for you as you raced to the back, finding the dark storage closet with the door left wide open like the safe.

Your feet came to a halt as your paranoia screamed at you. Someone was going to be waiting for you in that closet. Your gut was telling you to turn and run as fast as you can.

But you heard the peculiar sound of the front door’s rusty hinges and your blood turned into ice. It was either, take your chances that someone was in that closet, or run right into possible danger walking through the front door.

So you chose the closet.

Your heart was furiously pounding, your whole entire body trembling as the adrenaline powered through you. You could hardly hear through the pulsations in your ears, all you knew is that you were cowering down in the corner, it was pitch dark and you refused to open your eyes.

Your knees were pulled to your chest, doing your best to keep your breathing even. All those movies where someone is hiding under a bed or something, they always end up getting caught because they breathe so damn loud.

You used to make fun of it, but you get it now.

You could hear the sounds of things being moved around out front, but it was so distant behind the heavy door. Your heart was still pounding so hard in your ears that they started to ring, and you did your best to zone in on what you could hear, but all you got was the unnerving thuds of your own pulse.

You could’ve pulled out your phone from your back pocket, but you were froze. You were terrified to move a muscle, make a single sound.

You sat there for what felt like hours, bracing yourself for whatever was bound to happen. You just wanted silence. You wanted to hear the creaky hinges on the front door again, and then you wanted complete and utter silence, so crystal clear that you could hear a pin drop if you needed to.

You wanted whoever was in there with you to leave and never come back. They already got their money, what else do they fucking want?

That’s when it dawned on you. Tears swelling in your eyes, stinging and burning and threatening to spill down your cheeks.

What if they want you? What if you’ve been being watched by someone? What if the Senerchia’s sent someone after you? Hook didn’t have faith in you in the first place. He made it clear that he was more than displeased that his dad decided to make a deal with you.

What if he sent someone to take you out? You always felt like he was unpredictable. You sure as hell never trusted being around him. That feeling of impending doom loomed heavily every time you’re in his vicinity. What if it was your gut screaming at you that he was going to be the end of you?

Tears slid down your cheeks as your mind raced with what you believed to be the realization, and all you could do was hope and pray that by some stroke of luck, you wouldn’t be found dead in this closet by your parents.

Your heart only pounded harder as the agonizing moments drug by. You didn’t know how long you’d been slumped down in that corner. You still couldn’t hear over the blood rushing in your ears.

Your body jolted when your phone goes off in your back pocket. You were getting a phone call. The sound was shrilling, echoing back at you.

You scrambled to grab it, your dad’s name was floating on the screen. You almost answered it, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to speak. Your voice would betray you and if they didn’t already hear the phone going off, they would sure as hell hear that.

You screwed your eyes shut and hoped and prayed that they just somehow didn’t hear that phone ring. You knew better though. You just knew it.

You dropped your head on your knees and let your tears soak the fabric of your jeans. Silent as you could possibly be, but you knew it didn’t matter anymore. It was only a matter of moments before someone finds you. You just hoped it was going to be quick and painless.

The doorknob clicked just then, and even over the sound of your blood rushing heavily in your ears, you heard it loud and clear.

Your head shot up, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. Choked sobs and incomprehensible pleas started pouring through your lips, begging whoever was about to find you to just let you go.

“I won’t tell anyone, please just don’t- please, please don’t!” You cried out. The door swung open and you dropped your head to your knees again. You kept your eyes screwed shut, bracing for it.

Your sobs and uncontrollable cries filled the air, your body shaking and trembling, you couldn’t pick your head up. You didn’t want to see what was about to happen to you.

Your cries got louder, you couldn’t help it even if you wanted to. There was a single second between your last plea, and a pair of strong hands gripping your shoulders tightly.

Every muscle in your body stiffened, your breath hitching in your throat, and it was only then that you heard your name being called over and over, almost sounding distant, like you were on two separate ends of a long tunnel.

The hands on your shoulders shook you gently, then much harder, and your dad’s voice broke through it all.

Your head shot up, and through the blurry haze, his eyes were staring into yours, filled with more worry than you’ve ever seen in them before.

Relief washed over you, so much so that more tears flowed down your cheeks. You choked on your own sobs when you threw your arms around him. You’d never felt more safe in your life than you did in that moment, and unfortunately you knew you’d probably never feel safe again after it.

“What happened? Did someone- did someone hurt you?” Your dad asked as he examined you, his eyes carefully yet frantically scanning each inch of your face.

You shook your head, still unable to properly speak, but you tried.

“I- We were broken into”

“Y/N, I know. Why are you in here? Did they hurt you? Did someone hurt you?” He asked more assertively.

“No, I thought they were coming back” You tried to let out, even though your voice was cracked and dry. “It was just you, but I thought- I thought they were coming for-“

You stopped yourself. In the midst of the adrenaline still coursing heavily through your veins, you couldn’t say too much. You couldn’t reveal anything to anyone, you knew that.

“Coming for what?” Your dad pressed on, his hands cupping your cheeks firmly so you had no choice but to look dead in his eyes.

“For- more money or- I don’t know dad, I don’t know. I was scared and I just hid.”

His stern expression softened immensely before he pulled you into his chest, wrapping you tightly in his arms as you let the tears soak his shirt.

“It’s okay.” he soothed. “It was just me. I’m sorry. I’m gonna find out who did this alright? It’s gonna be okay.”

———

It’s gonna be okay.

That simple sentence echoed through your mind constantly, but not in a reassuring kind of way. It felt more like a cruel joke than anything else.

It wasn’t going to be okay. You knew that. Your dad had no idea what you’d gotten yourself into. Nobody did.

You realized how out of your mind you were after the adrenaline rush finally wore off. How you let paranoia sink deep into your veins and completely control every piece of you. How when you were hiding in that closet, you really, truly believed that Hook had sent someone after you. Your gut told you it was the end, and yet it wasn’t.

You couldn’t blame it on lack of sleep, though that probably did contribute to it. You knew deep down that you were losing every last sensible part of your mind, but you couldn’t really stop it.

It was now Friday morning. Despite your dad insisting that the restaurant be closed until the front door gets fixed, you damn near begged to keep it open.

He didn’t understand why you were so adamant about it, and the only excuse you could muster up at the time was something along the lines of, “There’s money to be made and we’re not gonna make it if we sit on our asses.”

The restaurant stayed open and thankfully just as busy as it had been lately, but you still knew that you weren’t going to have enough. Even though Taz said to pay back what you’re able to, you still knew that he meant pay in lump sums.

You just hoped by some measly little stroke of luck, that you’d make enough during lunch rush to be able to suffice for this week’s collect, but you had next to absolutely no faith in that.

As you were pouring a couple glasses of sweet tea for one of your tables, you heard a voice booming over the chatter throughout the restaurant.

Your hands stilled, your heart might’ve even stopped. You knew his voice anywhere, anytime, any place without hesitation.

Maxwell Jacob Friedman.

You contemplated staying right where you were at the drink station, but you knew in the middle of lunch rush, that wasn’t an option.

You made a B line for the table in the back that ordered those sweet teas, and stood there for a little extra longer than you usually would to take their order.

From the corner of your eye, you watched Max take a seat at one of the tables in front of the window. He had some guy with him who you didn’t recognize.

Your stomach twisted into nauseating knots when you realized you’d have to speak to him. It’s been so long since the last time you were in the same room as him even, and things didn’t end on a positive note, to say the very least.

You stalled for as long as you could, tending to every table in the building until you had no choice but to approach his.

You couldn’t force a smile. You tried, but you simply couldn’t do it. You were fairly certain the disgust you’d felt for him was boldly expressed on your face, and in all honesty? You didn’t care to hide it.

“What can I get you to drink?” You asked with a dead tone. Eyes on your note pad, doing everything you could not to be a bitch, but you weren’t going to give him the five star waitress treatment either.

“Nice to see you too, Y/N.”

You could hear the smirk without even having to look at his face. It was enough to make your blood boil, but you tried to contain the sudden rage that bubbled inside of you.

You felt his eyes on you. There would be amusement dancing in them if you looked, but you refused to do that.

“You know what I like.” He said, and you couldn’t help the eye roll before you turned to whoever he brought with him, a guy with brown hair tied back and piercing blue eyes.

“And for you?” You asked, throwing on a fake smile just to drive the point home.

“Just a water.” He smiled at you, but as soon as he looked across the table at Max, his smile fell.

Without another word you turned on your heel and headed for the drink station. You hated that you knew exactly what to pour for Max, even after all this time. What’s more, you hated that he knew it too.

One water, and one with two lemons and light ice were in your hands when you returned to their table. You felt belittled for even giving Max what he wanted in the first place.

“Lemons are seedless, right?” He asked as you set his drink down in front of him. You ignored that and pulled out your notepad again.

“What can I get you today?” You asked his friend first. He looked uneasy, his eyes flashing from the menu in his hand to Max a few times before he finally spoke.

“I’ll take the philly and steak fries.” He dryly says before he hands you the menu.

“Everything on it?” You asked, and he simply nodded.

You didn’t turn to Max when you said, “And for you?”

There was a brief pause before he spoke. You felt his eyes burning a hole through you, but you absolutely refused to look into them.

“Once again, you know what I like, Y/N.” He said with condescension.

You almost took that, but decided not to.

“Actually, I don’t. What do you want?” You asked bitterly. Eyes still trained on the notepad in your hand.

“Oh, so we’re playing this game?” He chuckles. “Why don’t you go tell your dad I want my signature then. I’m sure he’ll be happy to make it for me.”

You gritted your teeth, but somehow ignored the comment and asked again. “What do you want?”

“A waitress with a better attitude.”

You cut your eyes at him. You wished you wouldn’t have done that. He was smiling at you, his eyes filled with that amusement, like he genuinely enjoyed giving you a hard time even after everything he’s put you through.

“Alright, alright.” He throws his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m just messing with you. I know you’re the only waitress here. Which reminds me, how’s nursing school working out for ya?” He asked, and you could see that he was trying to belittle you.

You ignored that question, looking back down at your notepad and doing your best not to let him get too deep under your skin.

“You work here to pay your tuition? Or was I right all along?” she smirked, satisfied. He already knew you dropped out of school. You knew he did, even though it happened after you two broke up. You knew word traveled fast around town and all he was doing was trying to rub it in your face that everything he ever told you was true.

You’re never going to be a nurse. You’re going to be trapped at that restaurant for the rest of your life, making mediocre sandwiches and fries just like your parents. that’s all you’ll ever be good for. That and maybe being some random dude from the bar’s drunk mistake on a friday night.

Those words pushed you through the first two years of college, but now they haunt you.

You glared down at him, shooting your best dagger, wishing it was a spear straight through his heart. You masked the pain with anger and hoped he couldn’t see how bad those words affected you.

Hopefully he didn’t still know you like the back of his hand.

“Yeah, just make sure my foods hot.” He winked as he handed you the menu. You snatched it from his hand and fought back the urge to make him swallow his own teeth before you headed to the kitchen.

One glance at your face and your parents could see that something was wrong, but when they asked, you just shook your head and handed them the order.

You didn’t want to tell them anything. They didn’t even fully know what happened with you and Max to begin with. They were under the impression that the two of you mutually agreed to end things. It was easier than having to explain everything he put you through the entire time you were together, that they never had a clue about.

You distracted yourself by washing some dishes, but that’s when you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. You stilled with your hands in the soapy water. You knew who it was without even having to look.

Glancing up at the clock, it was one-thirty already. You looked over your shoulder at the tables still filled. People were taking their time eating and making conversation, not paying fast enough.

You dried your hands and took your phone out. A text from Hook, as you expected, was floating on the screen.

my place

That’s all it said. No time or anything else. You wondered if that meant now, or whenever you could get there. You figured it meant now.

You still had thirty minutes before your shift ended, and you debated texting back with that, but you sort of knew he wasn’t going to care.

You started to rush to get everything stocked out front. Your mom was getting ready to take over your position when you came back to the kitchen.

“Here.” She said as she handed you two plates. You already knew it was for Max and his friend, and had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. “After that you can go. I’ve got it from here.”

You nodded and headed back out to the front. Max’s eyes found you as soon as you walked toward the table. A smile slipped across his face. It was sickening to you.

You placed the plates down in front of them and said, “Anything else I can get you?”

Max’s friend said, “Some ketchup please?” And Max added, “A refill. You can see my drink getting low. And make sure my lemons are seedless this time, honey.”

Honey.

Your eye twitched as you grabbed his cup and headed towards the drink station. You wanted to spit in that stupid water and give him the one lemon with extra seeds, but you fought against it. Something told you he’d probably like it if you did that.

You returned to the table with his drink and his friend’s ketchup, then asked, “Anything else?”

Max observed his food like it was a science experiment. He pushed a fry around with his finger like it was going to grow teeth and eat him before he eats it.

You stared at him, unamused and impatient.

“Yeah uh, maybe tell your dad that it’s not a shock that he struggled with this place so much. The food is… Well, quite frankly Y/N, it looks like something my cat coughs up.”

Your rage was bubbling again, more rapidly this time. Steam could’ve came out of your ears at that very moment.

“If this poisons me I hope you know how to save my life.” He quipped. “Oh wait, you probably didn’t get that far in med school, huh?”

You couldn’t take it anymore. You were about five seconds away from exploding, and you needed to get far away from him as humanly possible, as soon as possible.

You stormed back behind the counter, opening the register and getting ready to count it. Your mom came from the kitchen and grabbed her notepad, glancing at you once she realized who was sitting at the table next to the window.

“Max? Is that who’s got you this upset?” She asks. You look over at her and shake your head.

“I’m not upset, I’m just tired. Ready for a nap.”

You were pretending to count the cash carefully, but really, you were waiting for her to walk away so you could take what you needed to add towards the little bit of money you were bringing to Hook.

“He looks good.” She adds, making your teeth grind behind your lips. “Did you two talk about anything-“

“No, mom.” You snapped. You didn’t mean to, and you regretted it immediately when you looked over and saw the flash of hurt on her face.

“Sorry, I’m just- I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Okay.” She nods, seemingly understandingly. “Okay, well, count down and you can go. We’ll call you if we need you, but you can take tomorrow off.”

That would’ve been a relief in any other situation, but not this one.

“It’s okay, i’ll come in. Saturday’s are our busiest days.”

“I know. That’s why we hired someone else. You won’t have to carry all the weight as the only waitress anymore.” She smiled. She thought she was doing something good, but you instantly felt the dread sink in.

“What? Who?”

“Kyle’s little cousin. She’s sweet, you’ll like her. She’ll be here tomorrow if you want to come by and meet her.”

You internally cursed, but outwardly forced a smile. “sounds great.” you said through gritted teeth. It was just adding another person to worry about.

———

Tyler was annoyed. Not the typical mad at the world, internal demons battling with him, everyone and everything can choke kind of annoyed. A different kind.

He’d been on edge since he woke up that morning, with a weird, unnerving feeling in the pit of his stomach that something just wasn’t quite right.

He sat on his couch, rolling his second blunt of the day while he listened to Dante talk about work. He was barely paying attention to him, but after twenty minutes of Dante not catching on that Tyler wasn’t interested in anything he was saying, he just decided to say fuck it and let him keep talking.

“I’m just sick of being overshadowed up there.” Dante rambled on. “I do all the work and someone else gets all my credit for it. I’m probably the only reason that fucking bar is still open.”

Tyler glanced up at him as he slicked the blunt. He hasn’t said a word in twenty minutes.

“Overworked, underpaid, unappreciated, it’s a fucking joke, man.” Dante sighed as he stared up at the ceiling fan rocking while it spun.

Tyler grabbed a lighter and ran the end of the flame over the blunt a few times before he brought it to his lips and sparked it, taking three hits and holding the smoke deep in his lungs as he passed it to Dante.

He was too distracted by the blades of the fan spinning to notice, so Tyler threw his lighter at him. Dante’s head snapped to him, but the furrow in his brows faded when he took the blunt and a couple small hits from it.

Tyler got up from the couch and walked over to the bottle of Vodka on his kitchen counter that had been calling his name all day.

He brought the bottle to his lips and tipped it back toward his ceiling, taking four large gulps and not wincing a bit when the poison hit his throat, spreading a searing burn through his chest almost immediately.

“Damn.” Dante chuckles as Tyler walks back with the bottle in hand. “It’s the middle of the day”

Tyler doesn’t respond to that. He grabs the blunt from Dante’s hand and takes it, and the bottle back to the other couch.

“Do you even get drunk anymore, man?” Dante asked. He took a couple more hits off his blunt and another large sip from his bottle.

“Not really.” Tyler finally spoke as he passed the blunt back and kept the bottle close to his chest.

“What does it do for you then?” Dante asked. He had a layer of softness to his tone that Tyler didn’t really like. Something that sounded… Sympathetic? He doesn’t do sympathies.

He ignored that question and took yet another, even larger sip, feeling the burn in his chest start to die down, so he chased after it.

“Anyway” Dante decided to change the subject when he realized he wasn’t going to get an answer from him. “Shit, remember Y/N? That girl I told you about?”

Tyler’s eyes shot up from the bottle, his expression still as stoic as it always was.

“The one from the bar.” Dante thought he needed to jog Tyler’s memory. “I showed you the picture-“

“Yeah.” Tyler cut him off, his tone sharp. “I remember.”

“One of her friends she was with came in last night. I asked about her and she told me where she works.” Dante paused to take a hit before he leaned up and passed it back. “Think I might stop by and try to talk to her.”

Tyler twisted the blunt between his thumb and finger as he stared back at Dante, not realizing he was clenching his teeth behind his lips.

“Mm.” Tyler hummed.

“I don’t wanna be weird about it though.” Dante said as he stared up at the fan, captivated by it once again. “But her friend told me she’s been going through a lot and could use someone to make her smile. Didn’t tell me what was going on with her, but pretty much encouraged me. So I guess I’m gonna do it.”

Tyler felt his face starting to get hot. The liquor was doing its job in that way, but it wasn’t taking the edge off like he needed it to. He set the bottle down on the table and passed the blunt back before he pulled his hoodie off, leaving him in a black shirt and his sweatpants.

“I don’t wanna go by myself though.” Dante added, looking back at Tyler. “That would look weird if I just showed up and ate by myself. Tryna come with me?”

“Nah.” Tyler crossed his arms over his chest tightly, leaning back against the cushions.

“C’mon man.” Dante tried to persuade him, but Tyler wasn’t budging on this one.

“I’m good on that.” Tyler shook his head, staring at the mud stains on the tips of his shoes.

that’s when he realized the liquor was having an even bigger effect on him than it usually did. “What’s up with you and this girl?” he asked, not fully meaning to, but he spoke before he had a chance to stop his mouth from opening.

“I’m tryna figure that out.” Dante shrugged, leaning up and passing the blunt back.

Tyler side eyed him before he took it. “Why are you stuck on her? You talked once.”

“I’m not stuck on her. I just want to see what she’s about.” Dante shrugged again.

Tyler already knew what she was about, though, and he obviously couldn’t tell Dante that. He went from never even knowing this girl existed a few weeks ago, to having to see her every Friday, and hear about her from his boy way too much for his liking.

“It’s been days.” Tyler said, holding smoke in his lungs. “And you’re still talking about her.”

He leaned up and put the blunt out in the ashtray before he grabbed the bottle again, taking two large gulps and finishing off what was left at the very bottom of the glass. He made a mental note to hit up the liquor store as soon as he can.

“I mean, I don’t know. She was different.” Dante muttered.

“They’re all different.” Tyler knitted his brows at him.

“Yeah but she seemed, like, really different.” Dante looked like he was really trying to put his words together, and that’s what he came up with.

Tyler shook his head and got up from the couch, walking to the kitchen and throwing the empty bottle in the trash can.

He pulled out his phone and checked the time. His aggravation only increased when he saw that it was already well past noon and he was soon going to have to meet up with the girl he keeps hearing all this stupid shit about.

“What time is it?” Dante asked over his shoulder.

“one-thirty.”

“Shit.” he sprung up from the couch. “I gotta go get ready for work.”

Tyler nodded once as he quickly sent a text and stuffed his phone back in his pocket. They dap each other up before Dante heads out the door, and Tyler collapses on his couch, finally able to enjoy the peace and quiet. For the time being.

———

You didn’t really know what you were supposed to do. Usually when you meet Hook he’s already at the location. He wasn’t standing outside waiting when you pulled into the back alley behind the complex.

You sat in your car for ten minutes, then finally decided to send him a text.

Here.

Your hands were trembling as you typed. You were terrified that the amount you had wasn’t going to suffice. You did the best you could in the span of two days, but something told you that four-fifty was going to look like pocket change to Hook.

You bounced an anxious knee as you looked out the window, staring at the back door he came out of the last time you were here. Drunk off your ass and making a complete fool of yourself, that is. You couldn’t think about those cringy memories right now.

You were rehearsing your explanation over and over again in your head, but your lines got mixed up the second the door opened and Hook walked out, his hair scattered every which way, wearing a black shirt that left his arms, and his tattoos on full display.

You opened the door, popped the trunk and were just about to get out of the car when he said, “Stay in.”

You felt the confusion washing over your face as you slowly closed the door and watched him in your rear view mirror. He opened the trunk and grabbed the purse, then slammed it and walked around to your passenger side door.

You sat there with your hands tucked between your thighs in an attempt to hide the way they were trembling. He opened the door and got in, filling the small space with the smell of weed, alcohol and strong, but really good smelling cologne.

But obviously that wasn’t what you were supposed to be paying attention to, and just before he could unzip that purse, you blurted out something before you could even think about it.

“It’s only four-fifty.” Your voice cracked, and you internally winced at the sound of it. His bloodshot eyes shot over to you, his face as unreadable as always.

“Where’s the rest?” He asked in a sharp, yet low voice.

“I had it-“ You start. He shakes his head as he opens the purse and pulls out the stack, sifting through the bills faster than you wanted him to.

“We were robbed!” You nearly shouted, not even recognizing the sound of your own voice. His hands stilled, his eyes still on the money.

“They took everything out of the safe. I had all of it, I swear. They broke in sometime Tuesday night, or- Wednesday morning before we opened and wiped us out. This is all I have but I’ll make it up next week if you-“

“Stop talking.” He cut you off, stacking the money back up before he even finished counting it. Your mouth clamped shut but you felt your bottom lip quiver, and he looked over at just the exact moment, his eyes briefly flashing down when he noticed.

He looked away then, roughly running a hand through his hair.

“Who was it?” He asked after a tense moment of uncomfortable silence.

“I don’t know.” You shook your head, barely whispering just to keep your voice from trembling again.

He cut his eyes back at you. You felt like he wasn’t believing anything you said. The look of pure skepticism on his face made you feel like you needed to do whatever you could to convince him you were telling the truth.

“I’m not lying to you, Hook.” You sounded desperate, on the verge of tears almost and his shoulders visibly tensed when heard the sound of it.

“The lock on our door is still broken, you can see it for yourself if you don’t believe me.”

“What did the cameras catch?” He ignored your pleas.

“I don’t- there are none.” You said in a small voice.

His dark eyes narrowed even more, and you’d never met anyone whose mere eyes had the power to send a chill down your spine.

“That restaurants got no cameras?” His brows knitted tightly.

“We never had any. We’ve had that place for years and nothing like this ever happened. We never thought we needed them.” You shrugged, your eyes pleading with his to understand somehow, but now that you heard yourself, you realized you wouldn’t believe your story either.

“That’s the dumbest shit i’ve ever heard.” His upper lip curled, as if he was disgusted.

“I’m telling you the truth!” You desperately plea, feeling like tears would swell up in your eyes at any given moment. It was taking everything in you to hold them back.

He stared back at you, his eyes cold and the closest thing to dead on an alive person that you’d ever seen. You held your breath deep in your lungs, refusing to break his stare.

There was no way to tell what he was thinking. His face only made a subtle change when he pressed his lips in a tight line, and that still didn’t give you anything to go off of. You could only guess that he either believed you or he didn’t, and you silently prayed that he did.

He finally tore his eyes off of you and looked back down at the money gripped tightly in his hand. He sifted through the bills again and counted quickly before he folded them and stuffed them in his pocket.

You watched his every move. Specifically, his hands. You were hyper aware of every minuscule move they made, feeling as if, just like when you were hiding in the closet, you were waiting for the inevitable to happen.

He was silent for far too long. The tension in the car was making it feel like you couldn’t get enough oxygen in your lungs. You could hear your own heart thundering against your chest, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he heard it too.

“Please just take what I have and I’ll get the rest, on top of what I usually pay next week.” You plea once more.

You watched as he ran his hand over his lips, keeping his eyes trained on the windshield. You waited and waited for what felt like forever before his voice finally broke through the silence.

“You call the cops?” He asked. You didn’t expect that question.

“Yes.” You nodded. Your cheeks burned when you admitted it.

“Figured.” He scoffed and shook his head again. “Give me a name.”

“Of the cop?” You asked, your brows knitting in confusion.

He turned his head, deadpanning. “Of your best fucking friend.” His sarcasm was sharp as a steel blade, the kind you’d never crack a smile at.

“Valero.” You blurted.

“First name?” His brows raised, shoulders shrugging in annoyance.

“I don’t know.” You shook your head adamantly. “I only got the last name from his badge, but he- his hair is dark brown, and short, and he had a tattoo of a cross on his right arm, and he-“

“Alright.” He cut you off again, holding his hand up. “Look, I can’t believe I’m about to explain this shit to you, but you can’t be having the cops involved when your family’s business is tied in with mine.”

You nodded, unsure what you could say to save yourself.

“You got some illegal shit going on. They’re gonna keep an eye on that place, and my family ain’t going down for yours.”

“Nobody’s going down.” You blurted out. “I haven’t told anyone anything and you and your dad have my word that I never will.”

“You got the cops involved!” He raised his voice. “You get what that means? They’re gonna scope that joint out, and then they’re gonna watch you like a fucking hawk and figure out the whole reason why that restaurant is still running in the first place.”

You stayed silent, contemplating his every word. Piecing it all together, realizing that he was right. You’d just added another string in your web of lies and you could barely keep up with the ones you had now.

“Are you understanding any of this?” He asked, pointing at his head. “Is it fucking clicking yet?”

“Yes.” You barely whispered. “Just tell me what I can do.” You tried desperately. At this point you felt like you were grasping at straws, and unfortunately they were just out of reach.

His brows knitted again, eyes peering. “What can you do? There’s nothing you can do, Y/N!” He shouted, and you slightly jumped at the sound of it, and the use of your name.

“Shit, I think if you tried you’d fuck this up even more! That’s why I told you from the jump, you’re not cut out for this shit, and all you’re doing is proving it!”

You felt your shoulders shaking, lips tightly pulled in under your teeth to keep from letting tears spill down your cheeks.

He stared at you for another long moment, one that felt like hours had passed by. He finally tore his eyes off of you and ran a hand aggressively through his hair again, sighing deeply.

When he spoke again, his voice was much softer. Much steadier and far more composed, but it didn’t make you feel any calmer.

“Next week I expect you to have your shit straight, but you open your mouth to my dad or anyone else about any of this-“ He looks back at you, a stern, serious expression on his face.

You cling to hope in that moment, shaking your head profusely, unable to even let him finish his sentence before you promised him you wouldn’t say a single word.

He eyed you in a way that only made you think he was debating options, and you didn’t know what they were but you were fairly certain only one of them would end good for you.

“This is the only time I’m letting some shit like this slide. You got that?” He raises his brows, pointing his finger at you. You nod immediately, feeling your heart finally start to slow down. “You try to give me a couple bucks again next week? Outcomes will be different.”

You felt your heart stammer in your chest when he said that. No specifications but you already knew exactly what he meant.

“And you get robbed again, or some shit like that happens that has anything to do with my dad’s money? I’m your only call. Not the cops, not your parents, me.” He declared, holding that stare so intensely that you found yourself holding your own breath once again.

You nodded, understanding silently.

Your eyes stayed locked for what felt like an eternity. You refused to shy away from his gaze, even if it did make you feel like you wanted to run as far from him as you possibly could.

He grabbed your purse that had been laying in his lap the entire time and said, “Pop the trunk.”

You practically scrambled to reach for the button, and as soon as you pushed it, he got out of your car and slammed the door. You watched him in the rear view as he lifted the trunk, tossed your purse inside and slammed it.

Without another word said, he tapped the trunk twice and headed back towards his door, and you were quick to put the car in drive and bolt the hell out of there.

———

It was a little after eight-thirty when Tyler knocked on his dad’s door. He walked in, the money balled in his fist in his hoodie pocket. He took it out and tossed the stack down on the desk, in front of some paperwork his dad was working on.

“Restaurant girl.” He muttered before he sat down in the chair in front of the desk.

Taz stopped writing and dropped his pen on the paper, grabbing the stack of cash and fanning it out. Tyler watched with boredom in his eyes as his dad counted the bills.

“Looks like business is still booming.” He nodded, clearly satisfied with the collect.

“Yup.” Tyler resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Gonna keep an eye on it though.” He added, crossing his arms over his chest. “Like you asked.”

Taz nodded again, stacking the money back and laying it off to the side. “I’d appreciate it, son.” He hollowly said before he picked his pen back up and turned his attention back to his paperwork.

Tyler nodded tightly before he stood up from his chair and headed out the door without another word.

Once he got back to his apartment, he collapsed on the couch and pulled out his phone, scrolling through his texts that were filled with mostly unsaved numbers. Girls he could hit up when the liquor wasn’t putting him to sleep at night.

He debated sending a text to the girl he had over after he left the bar Tuesday night. She was pretty eager to please, even though Tyler knew his thoughts were never focused on her, even when she was on her knees for him.

He could hit her up and have her come over again, get what he needs and have her gone before midnight, but for some reason he was hesitant to send that text. He stared at the cursor flashing for way too long before he backed out.

He locked his phone and tossed it to the side, his hands coming up, rubbing his burning eyes.

He had a new bottle of vodka sitting on the kitchen counter but he hadn’t touched it yet. He knew it was his kryptonite.

He started thinking about things that pissed him off today. The list was long, but certain things stood out from others.

The annoying feeling in the pit of his stomach that he carried all day long. He was waiting for something bad to happen. It almost had him paranoid, expecting the unexpected more so than he usually did. That pissed him off today.

The headache he got from listening to Dante go on and on about how much he hates his job. The fact that he was practically being appointed as his boy’s therapist was almost comical, but not the laughing kind. That pissed him off too.

Having to come out of his own pocket to cover the rest of restaurant girl’s collect. The fact that he had to sit in that car and watch her nearly burst into tears. That really pissed him off.

He huffed at the thoughts running through his mind. His teeth were clenched behind his lips as he remembered the sound of her voice cracking as she tried to explain what happened.

He wasn’t used to shit like that. People he does business with don’t usually look like they’d break down and cry the second someone looks at them the wrong way.

He knew she was terrified of him. He didn’t like it. He never liked the fact that he put fear in anyone’s heart, but that just wasn’t something he could change.

He rolled his eyes as he recalled the way her hands were trembling. The pure terror he saw in her eyes when he looked at her. The fact that she was so naive and streetwise brainless. It infuriated him.

He said it from the beginning. His dad never should’ve agreed to do business with that girl. It’s only the third week and she’s already fucking up, and if his dad found out about anything that she told him today?

He clenched his fist in his hoodie pocket as he thought about how that conversation would go. There would be no conversation. His dad would tell him to get rid of her with a simple wave of his hand, and that’s what he’d have to do.

He felt his stomach tighten, bringing on that weird feeling that had been lurking inside of him all day. The thoughts he was having made it even stronger, but he knew how to kill it.

He got up from the couch and walked over to that bottle sitting on the counter. He didn’t waste time opening it and he sure as hell didn’t waste any taking a couple large gulps from it either.

The liquor didn’t burn his throat anymore. He figured out a long time ago that it was probably raw from all the drinking and smoking he does anyway.

He chased after the next best thing, which was that searing sensation in his chest. He didn’t know why he liked that pain. It felt like flames of a fire trapped inside of him, but he was addicted to it.

And even when that sensation finally sunk in, and he felt the burn spreading from his chest to his face, he still wasn’t able to force away the anger that had settled deep inside. If anything, he was only fueling it.

He took a couple more chugs from the bottle until it was a little under half full, and realized fighting with those inner demons was only going to give them more strength.

He let his mind revert back to restaurant girl. He felt his stomach twist into knots again. He thought about how badly she had fucked up, and how he’s got to add another body to a list that he can’t even keep count of anymore, just to fix her mistake.

It was supposed to be her, but he knew he couldn’t do it. He knew he wasn’t supposed to let her go home today, but he couldn’t imagine having her coffin on his conscience.

It was so ridiculous to him that he actually laughed to himself. All the people he’s taken the lives of, he thinks about them every single day. He vividly remembers every last one of them, every look on each one’s face when the realization hits them that they’re not gonna make it back home.

He made it look easy. He probably would seem like a heartless, soulless person to anyone if they ever witnessed the things he has done, but if he was really that person deep down, restaurant girl would’ve been added to his list today.

It haunts him day in and day out, but he’s finally getting better at not letting remorse take control of him. He’s finally starting to understand what his dad has always told him.

Business is business son, don’t take it to heart.

But even with all the things he’s done, he still wasn’t his dad. He still wasn’t what his dad expected him to be. He still hadn’t proved himself.

He grabbed the neck of the bottle again, shaking his head at himself before he tipped it back and chugged until the searing burn in his chest found its way back.

It wasn’t working. It wasn’t going to work. He gave up trying and just accepted it at that point. He needed a bigger distraction. Being alone with that bottle of liquor and his own thoughts was going to be the death of him if someone doesn’t take him out first.

He rubbed his hand over his face and walked back over to the couch, grabbing his phone that was laying on the cushion and scrolling through his messages until he found the one he was looking for.

The girl from Tuesday night that he brought back on impulse. He didn’t even remember her name, but it didn’t matter. He knew what she was down for and he knew he needed a distraction from everything weighing down on him.

He sent her a text and locked his phone right after, collapsing back down on the couch for only a couple seconds before his phone buzzed with a text floating on the screen, letting him know that she was on the way.

———

You walked into the restaurant around noon on Saturday. You wished you could say that you got a good night’s sleep, but you’d be lying. All you did was lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about how your life has seemed to spiral out of control in just the span of a couple weeks.

You were constantly on edge, feeling like eyes were always on you even when you were all alone. You were at least learning to be vigilant though. You realized it’s a skill worth having, even if it comes with deep rooted paranoia that keeps you up at night.

“Hi honey!” Your mom greeted you with a bright smile. The dark shadows that used to stay under her eyes had completely faded. They found a new home underneath your eyes instead.

“Hey mom.” You forced a smile before you glanced around the restaurant. It was packed, and your first instinct was to grab a note pad and take some orders.

But as soon as you reached for it, your mom laid her hand over yours. “We got it.” She assured you, pointing to the far end of the restaurant.

You spotted the girl that must’ve been Kyle’s cousin, jumping from table to table taking orders and filling drinks.

“I was gonna have you show her the ropes, but she’s a natural.” Your mom commented before she brushed a piece of hair out of your face. “Go home and rest. You look exhausted.”

You were, but resting didn’t feel like a possibility when your thoughts were eating away at you.

“I slept good last night.” You forced another smile and paired it with a lie, but you could tell that there was pure disbelief in your mom’s eyes.

You looked away from her when the girl in question came walking up to the counter. You smiled at her, offering a small wave and she beamed back.

“Hey! I’m Brooke!” She introduced herself cheerfully.

“Y/N.” You tried to sound just as joyous as her, but your tired, dry voice didn’t hold a candle to it.

“I know, Skye told me a lot about you! All good things, of course! It’s great to finally meet you!”

You kept that forced smile on your face as you said, “Yeah, you too.”

Truthfully your mind was in shambles and socializing was not your strong suit at the moment. But looking at this seemingly gleeful girl who had so much life in her eyes, it was driving a stake straight through your heart to say the very least.

The fact that you had no other choice but to think of everyone as collateral damage was devastating. Nobody knew what you had going on behind the scenes, but they were all tangled up into it. Your mom, your dad, and now this girl.

The thoughts of that were making you feel like the devil incarnated. Like you were evil and twisted for not somehow giving them a warning, even though you knew you couldn’t.

You had to force those thoughts away though. They kept you up all night long and you didn’t need them lurking around today too.

Just then, you heard the rusty hinges of the front door, and the energy in the room completely shifted. You felt the change enough to glance over your shoulder and find the culprit.

You didn’t know how, but you already knew it was him.

He kept his head down as he walked past you, Brooke and your mom. You had to act unfazed, you knew that, so instead of watching as he walked all the way to the back where the very last table was left empty, you tore your eyes away and did your best to recompose yourself.

Brooke was quick to grab a menu and take it to him. You watched her intently, a feeling of complete unease settling uncomfortably in the pit of your stomach.

“See, she’s good.” Your mom said as she ran her hand down your arm. You hardly heard her though. You were too busy staring at the man sitting at the last table, and the way his lips were moving when he spoke, but you couldn’t read them.

You felt your eyes narrowing in on him, paying close attention to every move he made while Brooke was standing next to his table, flashing that smile that you have yet to see her without.

You bit the inside of your cheek when he looked up at her, his lips moving so subtly you couldn’t even begin to make out what was being said between them.

Then your heart skipped a beat when he turned his head and looked straight at you, pointing his finger your way. Brooke glanced over at you before she turned back and nodded, then started walking back to the front.

“Hey, that guy wants you.” She said it in a whisper, as if it was some secret she needed to keep from all the other ears around.

You stared blankly at her for a moment before you glanced over at him, and his eyes were trained solely on you, waiting.

“Okay, thanks.” You forced yet another smile and tried to act as natural as possible, even though you didn’t even know what that meant anymore.

You didn’t even realize that your mom had walked back into the kitchen until you looked over and noticed that she wasn’t standing next to you anymore. Maybe that was a good thing.

Brooke walked away to tend to her other tables, and you drug your feet across the floor until you reached where Hook was sitting at.

He looked up at you. There were dark circles under his eyes more prominent than usual. You figured you matched him in that way.

You looked around, making sure nobody was paying attention before you took the seat across from him.

He looked… Surprised? It was hard to tell what he was feeling, but you noticed the way his eyes just barely widened. If you blinked, you would’ve missed it.

“Why are you here?” You asked in a hushed whisper. He kept his lips pressed tightly together, but his eyes roamed down to your chest for a split second, and then he decided to speak.

“Not working today?” He asked. You realized he was referring to the fact that you weren’t wearing your typical work clothes.

“First day off in three weeks.” You say with a matter-of-fact tone.

“Mm.” He hummed. His face didn’t change, eyes didn’t budge from yours.

“Why are you here, Hook?” You asked again, leaning into the table to keep your words strictly between the two of you.

He didn’t speak immediately, like usual. You started to assume he just needed that much time to contemplate his words. Guessed he just thought long and hard before he said anything at all, even if it’s just answering simple questions.

You waited for a response, just sitting there while his eyes bored into yours. It was causing those infamous tensions to arise at that table. The kind that makes it feel like the air around you was way too thick.

“I’m gonna have the rest of it.” You pressed on. “I know it looks bad cause i’m off today, but I promise I’m not gonna come up short next time.”

He still didn’t move a muscle. Didn’t even attempt to open his mouth to speak.

“I’m going to be working all day every day this whole week. I’ll have it, okay? I just don’t have it right now, but I’m not-“

“Stop talking.” He cut you off the same way he did when he was sitting in your car. And just like then, your mouth clamped shut immediately.

He leaned into the table, and you refused to lean back, even though the tips of your noses were less than an inch away from touching.

“I’m not here the money.” His voice was barely there, but steady enough for you to hear his every word. He clearly perfected the art of inconspicuous conversation.

“Then why-“

“Come outside in five minutes.” He cut you off again. “The car next to yours.”

Before you could get a single word out, he got up from his seat and walked right past you, not even sparing you another glance.

You turned and watched him walk right out the door, then looked around, thankful that nobody had seemed to pay any attention to the two of you.

You got up and walked back to the front. Brooke was coming out of the kitchen with two plates and stopped to ask, “Was that your boyfriend?”

You felt your brows furrow, shooting her a look you didn’t truly mean, but fixed your face when you watched her smile slightly falter.

“No, no that was just- someone I know.”

“Did he order anything?” She asked, looking back at the table now left empty.

“Nope, he left.” You said. “and I’m about to have to go, but um, i’ll see you tomorrow. Think we’ll have fun working together.”

Your falsified smile must have been at least a little convincing, because her bright one returned instantly.

“Yeah, I’m excited to work with you! Enjoy your day off!” She said before she headed over to one of her tables.

You peeked your head through the kitchen door and announced that you were leaving. Your mom and your dad told you they loved you in unison, and your mom added, “Get some sleep, honey.”

You were sure five minutes had gone by at that point. You weren’t paying attention to the time so you really had no way to know, but you headed out the door and spotted the sleek black car parked next to yours.

The windows were tinted too dark for you to even see through the windshield, but you guessed that made sense.

You walked up to the drivers side window and he rolled it down, a cloud of smoke rolled out and you took a step back.

“Is this why you needed me to wait five minutes? So you could smoke?” You asked. It sounded like a joke but it was a serious question. Either way, he found no humor in it. He ignored it completely.

You heard the car unlock and he opened up his door. You took another step back as you watched him carefully. Half of a blunt was held between his lips but that only had your attention for a second before something else caught it.

He turned his head, looking over both shoulders before he reached for the back door, but all your eyes were focused on was the purple splotch on the side of his neck, peeking out from underneath his hoodie.

You stared at it until he opened the door and leaned down. When he straightened back up, he had a box in his hand.

You instinctively took a small step back, your eyes flickering from the box, to his face and back again.

You noticed his jaw throb when he extended the box and you didn’t immediately take it. You kept your eyes on his, searching them as best as you could in an attempt to read a completely unreadable man.

“What is this?” You asked.

His jaw throbbed again, but other than that, his face didn’t change at all.

“Take it.” He muttered.

“What is it?” You asked again, even though you sensed his very thin patience somehow getting even thinner by the passing second.

He stared at you, unblinking.

“I’m not taking that until I know what’s-“

“I’m not gonna hurt you.” He cut you off, his voice surprisingly calm.

Your eyes flew to his face, you could feel them when they widened. It was as if he was either reading your mind, or you were just obviously displaying the thoughts racing through it.

He took the blunt from between his lips and tossed it down on the pavement, blowing out the last bit of smoke that he’d been holding in his lungs, and took a small step forward.

You didn’t step back this time, but you kept your eyes on his, and he held your gaze like you were in a heated staring contest. No doubt he’d win that.

“Take it.” He lowly said.

You grabbed the box, your eyes still trained on his face as you held it in your hands, unsure what to do next.

“Open it.” He firmly demanded.

You were hesitant to do that, and the only reason why you were even holding that box in the first place was because he said he wasn’t going to hurt you. He may have been a number of really awful things, but for some reason, he didn’t strike you as a liar.

You finally laid your eyes on the box, slowly pulling off the tape that sealed the top of it. You felt him watching you intently, and probably impatiently as you took your sweet time opening it.

Once you pulled all the tape off, you took a deep breath and held it as you opened the cardboard flaps and looked inside.

You expected anything other than something relatively… Safe. To say the very least.

You looked up at him, his face just as blank as it always was.

“Cameras?” You asked when you saw the security cameras packed in styrofoam.

“Yeah, those are cameras.” He deadpanned. You could practically feel the sarcasm dripping from his tone.

“Okay. Why?” You asked, earning another one of his blank, are you fucking serious stares.

“Why do you think?”

“No, I mean yeah, for the restaurant obviously.” You rolled your eyes, and noticed the way his brows slightly raised. “But- why did you-“

“Don’t consider it a heartfelt gift.” He said with that same dead tone to his voice.

“Well, yeah, I mean you’d have to have a heart for that right?” You attempted to joke, but immediately wished you wouldn’t have. You didn’t even know why you tried to crack a joke with that man. You just blurted something out that was better kept in your head.

You saw his eyes narrow slightly, but his lip twitched at the corner and you could’ve sworn it was the closest thing to a smile that he was probably capable of.

But as soon as you noticed it, he wiped it away with the back of his hand and looked away from you, back over both shoulders before he returned his attention back to you.

“It’s not for you or your restaurant.” His stoic expression returned. “It’s to keep eyes on my dad’s money.”

“Wait, so, you can watch whatever it records?” You asked, and again, his face didn’t change in the slightest.

“Is that a problem?” He asked firmly.

“It’s kinda creepy.” You say. “Just like, knowing you’re gonna be watching me on-“

“Not you, the money.” He corrected you.

“Okay, the money.” You imitated him, and you were pretty sure he didn’t like that very much.

“It’s either that or get some cameras installed.” He shrugs. “either way, this place should have them. Would make it a lot easier to find the people who robbed it. I don’t like playing the guessing game, so if some shit like that happens again, ima need footage.”

You blinked twice before you asked, “Wait, you’re looking for the people who did it?”

He didn’t answer that. His jaw throbbed again and you took that as you were annoying him with all the questions.

It was his dad’s money. That’s all he was worried about, so you guessed it would make sense that he tries to find out who took that money. The pieces were kind of piecing together at this point. Slowly but surely.

“I’ll set these up tomorrow.” You felt like you’d caved for some reason. You didn’t see even the slightest bit of satisfaction on his face though. “Thanks.” You barely whispered, hesitating to look back into his eyes.

“It’s not a gift.” He reminded you.

“Yeah, you said that.” You felt yourself growing impatient with his coldness, even though you weren’t even sure there was anything else to him than that.

He looked you over once, his eyes scanning you from head to toe before he reached for his door.

“Next week.” He says before he opens his door and gets back in the car. You caught a glimpse of that purple patch peeking out from under his hoodie again, prominent against his tanned skin.

You snatched your eyes off of him all together and said, “Yeah, I know how this works by now,” as you walked around your car to the driver’s side door.

Before you opened it, you stole one more glance of him. His door was still open, one leg in the car and one foot on the ground as he stared back at you.

You held his gaze like it was round two of that imaginary staring contest, but this time, he broke first.

He subtly nodded before his eyes roamed down to some other part of your face.

He looked back into your eyes one last time before he wordlessly got all the way in the car and slammed the door.

It was only then that you finally exhaled the breath that you kept trapped in your lungs, placed the box in the passenger seat and checked your phone.

There was a text from Anna in the group chat. All is said was, “Girls night?”

You thought about that for a moment, and decided that a night out with the girls was probably exactly what you needed.

Before you could reply, Skye had sent a text back saying, “Always down” with a bunch of heart emojis.

You replied with, “Let’s do it!” before you locked your phone and cranked the car. Just before you were about to pull off, you looked over at Hook’s car still parked next to you.

His window was tinted too dark for you to be able to see through, but somehow you already knew that his eyes were on you.

It was only then when you looked over, that he had backed out of the parking spot and drove off.

———

You sat in your car for a couple minutes to listen to the rest of a song before you decided to walk into the bar. You knew Anna and Skye were already there, unfortunately Willow couldn’t make it thanks to having to work late, which sucked, but you were determined to have a great time regardless.

When you walked in, you spotted Anna and Skye at the round table that you guys always claim. At this point the seats should really have your names on them.

“Hey babe!” Anna smiles as you approach the table.

“Hey you guys!” You greet them back as you take your seat.

You still had a million and one thoughts racking through your mind, but you were on a mission to not let them eat you alive, even if it’s just for one night.

“So” Skye says as a smooth smile slips across her lips. “Anything you wanna share?”

You knitted your brows at her, glancing between her and Anna.

“Um, no? Something you wanna share?”

Skye shot you a, oh come on, type of look, and you stared back at her, clueless. There was no way she knew anything, right? If that was the case she wouldn’t be smiling right now.

“Brooke tells me there was a really hot guy talking to you today.” She smirks, and you didn’t know what kind of reaction to have to that. Brooke likes to talk. Noted.

“Really hot guy?” Was the first thing that came out of your mouth. “No, just a customer.” You lied a little too easily, and Skye eyed you for a long moment after.

“Do I know this really hot guy?” Anna chips in, leaning into the table as if you were about to spill the tea.

“No, and we’re not calling him the really hot guy, either. He’s just a customer that comes in a lot.” You could see that Skye wasn’t buying it. The knowing smirk that laced her lips was practically permanent.

“Well” Skye glances over at the bar before she looks back at you. “All I know is, Brooke made it seem like there was something going on with you and whoever this guy is. She said he told her he was only there to talk you.”

Which was true, he did only come to talk to you but it wasn’t anything like that. You tried to think of yet another lie to spew, but thankfully Skye’s attention got pulled away from you when the bartender walked up to the table with a tray of drinks.

You looked up at him, and recognized his eyes and that bright smile immediately. You had forgotten all about him after you left this very bar to meet up with Hook the same night he made you go home in an uber because you were too drunk to drive, according to him.

Then you remembered how you never followed him back on Instagram because you didn’t want to give him the wrong impression, since Skye straight up told him that you thought he was hot, which you never said in the first place, and you suddenly felt kind of awkward.

You pulled your eyes away from him and adverted them down to the table, feeling your cheeks burn beneath your skin just like when Skye embarrassed the hell out of you.

“Thank you, Dante.” She smiled up at him when he placed her drink down in front of her, and you caught the sly glimpses she wasn’t being discreet enough with.

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from shooting her a glare. She was clearly using her eyes like it was some sort of secret language, but it was so obvious that she was trying to tell this guy to say something to you.

You didn’t want that, and she knew it, but it seemed like she didn’t care.

Your glass was placed down in front of you last, and you didn’t want to be rude, despite how awkward you felt. You looked up at him with your best smile and said, “Thank you.”

His smile immediately widened as he nodded his head and then looked down at the table instead. “When you ladies need more, just let me know.” He said before he stole one last glance at you and walked back to the bar.

You exhaled when he walked away, and your attention immediately returned to Skye and the sly smirk on her face.

“Not tonight.” You deadpan.

“What?” She shrugs, feigning innocence.

“I’m not into him.” you whisper so you can make double sure there was no chance he’d hear that. “I saw what you were doing a minute ago. Stop it.”

“Fine.” She shrugs again before she takes a sip from her drink. “Then how about we get back to Mr. Really Hot Guy?”

“How about no.” You shot a snarky smirk back at her before you grabbed your drink and took a couple sips.

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes. “No tea on girls night then.”

“Actually, there is something I wanted to tell you guys.” You pointed your finger between the two of them. Truthfully you had been dying to vent.

“What happened?” Anna asked.

“Friedman happened.” You say with a curl of your upper lip.

Both Skye and Anna’s eyes widened as they leaned in.

“Details, Y/N.” Skye encourages. “You didn’t sleep with him, did you?”

“Fuck no!” You nearly spat. You looked around to make sure nobody heard your word choice, you didn’t mean to be that loud.

“So what happened?” Anna asks again, sipping her drink through a straw.

“He came into the restaurant.” You told them, shrugging your shoulder.

“And?” Skye presses on.

“And he was a total dick.”

“That’s not surprising.” Anna rolls her eyes. “What did he say to you?”

“A lot. Mainly insulted me the entire time I took his order. Asked if I work there to pay my tuition, and then he was like, or was I right all along.”

They both shook their heads as you gave them the rundown. Talking about it did make you feel better, but just the fact that this man is still topic of conversation after everything he put you through, sickened you.

“He said our food looks like something his cat throws up, then he said if it poisons him he hopes I know how to save his life-“

“Um, no, let him choke and die.” Skye cuts in.

“Yeah, but after that, he was like, oh that’s right, you probably didn’t get that far in med school, huh?”

A disgusted look crossed Anna’s face when she said, “He’s such a fucking loser.”

“Agreed.” Skye nods. “You should’ve shoved that food down his throat.”

“It took everything in me not to explode, I’m telling you.” You shake your head before you take another sip from your drink.

“Are you okay though?” Anna asks. There’s a glint of sympathy in her eyes, which you understood, but hated more than anything else.

Granted, these two and Willow had seen it all when it came to the tumultuous relationship between you and Max. They were the ones that helped you pack when you finally decided that you had enough.

They held you while you cried over him, and kept you strong when you wanted to cave and go right back to him. They knew better than anyone just how much damage had been done to you from that one single man, but you still hated that they felt like you were just as fragile now as you were when you left him.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just pissed off.” You shrugged.

“So, no old feelings resurfaced?” She eyes you inquisitively, as if she’s trying to read you, searching for some underlying layer of feelings.

You had none.

“Definitely not.” You confidently say. “If I feel anything towards that sorry excuse of a man, it’s hatred, disgust, embarrassment, the list goes on.”

“Okay.” Anna’s voice was way softer than you wished it would be. It was as if she was trying to be gentle towards you, but you didn’t need that.

You didn’t say anything about it though, and went to take another sip of your drink before you realized you’d reached the bottom of that glass.

“Yeah, I need more too.” Skye shakes the ice in her otherwise empty glass before she raises it in the air and shakes it, trying to get the bartender’s, or, Dante’s attention.

“Skye, stop. That’s rude.” You grab her arm and lower it.

“What? How is that rude? It’s his job.” She shrugs.

“Yeah but it’s still rude, just walk over there and tell him.”

“You do it.” She says, letting that smirk slip back across her lips.

You shot her a crossed look before you rolled your eyes and looked over your shoulder at him. He was clearly preoccupied with someone else at the moment, and you weren’t about to walk up and interrupt.

But then you heard the ice in Skye’s glass shaking around again, and Dante’s eyes shot right over to it, but so did someone else’s.

Your heart might’ve actually skipped a beat when you realized who had locked eyes with you from across that bar. You immediately felt your skin burning, like the flames of a thousand tiny fires all conjuring together to form one huge blaze within you.

You were practically frozen, unable to pull your eyes away for some reason you didn’t even know.

That imaginary staring contest picked back up where it left off in the parking lot earlier that day, and this time, neither one of you were breaking.

———

Tyler didn’t plan to go to the bar, but there was nothing else to do and the liquor stores were closed, so why not?

He had his head down when he walked in, taking a seat in his usual barstool and waited on Dante to finish up with other people a little ways down the bar counter.

When he walked over to him, he seemed a little… Nervous?

The usual, laid back, chill demeanor he always has was replaced by what Tyler could only call, weird shit. He was sort of jittery, couldn’t stand in one spot or keep his hands still, and his eyes kept reverting to another part of the room.

“You good?” Tyler asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

Dante poured Tyler’s signature and nodded, but his eyes kept flashing over to something else.

Tyler glanced over his shoulder, following Dante’s sights until he found what had gotten his attention. The three girls at the round table, obviously. Everyone else in the bar was either old or coupled up.

“Are you gonna stare at them or pick one and take her back to your place?” Tyler dryly asked before he tipped his shot glass back, downing it in one fell swoop.

Dante took Tyler’s glass and filled it up again, sliding it back to his waiting hand and leaned onto the counter, whispering his next words.

“That’s the girl I was telling you about.” He informed Tyler, and his hand stilled just before he brought that glass back to his lips.

Tyler’s brows knitted before he looked back over his shoulder, having to do a double take.

“The one in the black shirt.” Dante whispered.

Her back was facing him, and guessed he didn’t recognize her for that reason.

Tyler watched for a moment as restaurant girl’s hands were moving animatedly. He obviously couldn’t see her face but he assumed she was telling the other two a story or something.

He didn’t know what that feeling was in the pit of his stomach, but he needed it to go away immediately.

He turned back and grabbed the shot glass, downing it before he slid it back to Dante and waited for another one.

When the third glass of that amber poison was placed in front of him, he stared at it for a minute too long.

“Did you talk?” He decided to ask. Dante shook his head.

“Not really. I just served them their drinks and she said thanks. That was it.” He shrugged before he started wiping down the counter.

Tyler tapped his fingers against the side of the glass before he decided to tip it back.

He wasn’t getting the burn in his chest that he usually has. He figured he just hadn’t had enough yet.

“Think I should try to talk to her?” Dante asks after a silent moment. Tyler’s teeth grit behind his lips involuntarily. He was starting feel annoyed, but he didn’t know why. It was just a feeling that came on suddenly, and it’s got him ready to snap.

He slid the glass across the counter a little harsher than he intended to, but Dante caught it right before it slid right off the edge and shattered all over the floor.

He poured yet another shot and placed it down in front of him, then his eyes averted back over to that round table.

Tyler looked up at him, watching him as he watched her. His knee started bouncing, that annoyance was morphing into something more, and he could only assume that’s what he gets for choosing brown liquor on a bad day.

He tried to find comfort in that glass anyway, taking his shot like it was water and slamming it down against the counter. It’s a miracle it didn’t shatter in his hand.

Dante looked down when he heard the loud clink. “You good man?” He asked, picking up on the energy surrounding him.

Tyler nodded tightly, wordlessly sliding his glass back across the counter. Dante took it, but eyed him for a second before he made another one.

It was then that he heard something that caught his attention. Tyler looked over his shoulder at that table again, just as she was, and their eyes locked immediately.

He felt his chest tighten for some fucking reason. The second he caught a glimpse of her face, and the shocked look on it, he just stared at her. Didn’t really want to look away.

There was something about her that got under his skin. Usually, nothing truly digs deep enough to get under the surface, but somehow she did.

He didn’t like that very much. He didn’t like it at all, really. But at the same time, it was new. It was a feeling he hadn’t really had before, and it intrigued him.

That’s what he chalked it up to. He was figuring it all out in the midst of the liquor coursing heavily through his veins. It wasn’t her that intrigued him, it was just the fact that she actually found a way to linger in his mind. That made sense, right?

He kept his eyes on her’s for what felt like an eternity. He didn’t even realize that Dante had walked away from him, until he saw him walk up to that table.

She didn’t turn back just yet. She just stared back at him, but her face subtly changed. That look of surprise and shock faded into one that Tyler could only assume was her observing him.

Her eyes roamed down to his lips, then went right back to his eyes. Then they roamed over to the left, then the right side of his face, then circled right back to his eyes again.

He watched it all happen, but he never took his eyes off of her’s.

Until one of her friends called her name, and she appeared to have snapped out of some kind of trance. She turned back around so quickly that she almost knocked over the drink Dante gave her.

Then Tyler watched as she looked up at him, and he couldn’t see her face but judging by Dante’s cheesy smile, he could only assume she was smiling too.

He watched her fingers twirling the ends of her hair, and the look in Dante’s eyes as he subtly took a small step closer to her chair. Then he snatched his eyes off of both of them.

That burn in his chest had finally sunk in, but it wasn’t a good kind of pain this time. His teeth clenched together behind his lips as he stared down at the full glass sitting in front of him.

He suddenly didn’t want it. He didn’t need it tonight. He knew what the best thing for him to do was, and that’s when he pulled out his phone and played russian roulette with the many unsaved numbers.

He sent a text to one of them and waited for a reply. It wasn’t long before he got one back. It never took long at all.

He glanced down at it before he stuffed his phone back in his pocket and looked over his shoulder one last time, finding Dante and restaurant girl caught up in conversation, her head thrown back laughing as he told her something that probably wasn’t funny at all.

Just before he took his eyes off of her, she just so happened to glance back at him. He didn’t expect that, and judging by that shocked look returning to her face, she didn’t expect him to already be looking at her either, but there they were, once again.

There were a couple seconds that passed like that, but then he shot her a single nod before he got up and walked out, realizing only when the doors closed behind him, and he had a strong urge to go back in, that he was going to need more than just a random girl and a bottle of liquor as a distraction.

But as soon as he got behind the wheel, he looked ahead at the streetlights squiggly in his drunken haze, and he wasn’t sure what exactly possessed him to do what he did next, but he wasn’t going to spend all night trying to figure it out either.

The nameless girl he’d hit up was probably going to show up to his apartment soon, but he wasn’t going to be there.

He shook his head at himself before he opened the door and got back out of his car, feeling a little defeated but that didnt stop him from walking right back into that bar, even though he knew it was the last thing he should be doing tonight.

———

part 3 coming soon

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