#i want the entire solo. extended even

[devilat-thedoor]

bring flower power back to the setlist with sammy’s pretty piano solo🤲🏽

[myfictionaldreams]

You're Mine, Sweetheart // Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie Munson loved many things but above all else, he loved teasing you, especially when it was so easy to do. All day he had been whispering into your ear and giving lingering touches and now, you were ready for him to do whatever he wanted to you.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dom/sub, dirty talk, pet names, teasing (LOTS), begging, sir kink, praise kink, panty kink/panty sniffing, discussion of past sex, restraints, polaroids, Eddie has an obsession with your smell and taste :), cum swallowing, blowjob, fingering, rough sex, pussy slapping, possessive behaviour, overstimulation, biting

Words: 6.6k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

It wasn’t a frequent event where you’d have to sleep by yourself, without your boyfriend wrapped around your body giving you warmth and comfort. Tonight unfortunately was one of those nights where you were tossing and turning, trying to find the same comfort that Eddie gave you, even positioning your pillows so that it may feel like him against your back but to no avail as you watched the hours slowly tick by on your alarm clock.

Eddie had a late-night gig at the hideout and your family had wanted to have a games night with even the extended family coming over so it wasn’t something you could sneak your way out of. By the time your family were in bed and Eddie was packing up his equipment, it would have been too late for him to come and pick you up and both decided like sensible adults to just meet the following day which also happened to be the weekly arcade meet up with all of your friends so that was something else to look forward to.

Now however, as the sun began to welcome the day,  you were dreading the idea of having to leave your bed and gain the energy to go to the arcade and hang with friends. Eddie, yes you wanted to see, but your social battery was already low and you’d hardly even started. As slumber was just about to consume your body, you were abruptly disturbed by your mom shouting up the stairs, “Darling, the phone!”.

With a pained grunt, you rolled out of bed, stumbling out of your room and down the stairs, not even bothering to open your eyes as you’d grown up in this house and could walk around it without looking. Knowing your mom had left the phone resting on top of the holder, you reached blindly for it and rested it against your face.

“Hello?”, your voice was croaky and thick with sleep, not that you cared though as you held the phone between your ear and shoulder so that you could rub the sleep out of your eyes.

A deep chuckle welcomed you on the other end of the line and immediately your entire body felt rejuvenated, a smile blooming across your lips. Your eyes opened but only to check your parents were anywhere close by as you began to nervously twist and play with the phone cable. “You sound just as tired as I feel, Sweetheart”, Eddie remarked but you could sense his happiness through his tone.

“Hey you”, your sleepy voice suddenly sounded light and flirtatious, “couldn’t sleep either?”.

Your boyfriend released an exacerbated sigh, followed by a soft known where you knew he’d rested his head back against the wall. “Nope, not a single second, missed you too much”.

His casual declaration for missing you, always so open about his feelings, made your heart thump harder in your chest like it was going to beat so hard your ribs would break. There was just something about knowing that he was as attached to you as you were to him.

“I missed you too. How was the gig?”, You bit your lip as he began to talk, it felt like you’d swallowed hundreds of little butterflies with the tumbling nerves floating in your stomach which always seemed to happen when talking to Eddie, he had you hooked beyond a reasonable doubt.

“It was fucking awesome! I nailed the solo, you know, the one I’ve been practising all week? Even got a well-done head nod from a couple of the locals which I thought was pretty neat”.

Your smile spread to a full grin hearing his passion as you praised him for doing so well, “That’s amazing Eddie! I wish I was there to see it, I’m sorry again that I wasn't, you know I would always come to support you if I could”.

“It’s no worries, Sweetheart, I only would have been distracted by you in the crowd like I always am. Especially when you start jumping up and down in those corroded coffin shirts”. The apples of your cheeks warmed as you glanced over your shoulder to double-check check your parents weren’t within earshot. When you and Eddie had begun to date, he gave you a corroded coffin shirt which was just a cheap white shirt with the name scribbled in a black sharpie so you redesigned it slightly and cut the sleeves and around the neckline so that the tops of your cleavage would be exposed.

When you didn’t respond to Eddie, he continued, the pitch of his voice lowering to the way that he usually used when he was whispering in your ear to get you in a certain mood. “Want to know a secret?”

“Yes”, you reply with an only just audibly heard response as your tongue suddenly feels heavy and thick in your mouth as you wait in anticipation for what he has to tell you.

“Do you remember those Polaroids we took a couple of weeks ago? The ones when we skipped school and hid in my van?”

Your cunt instantaneously pulse in sudden arousal at the reminder of those explicitly scandalous pictures from the time he’d convinced you to both skip school after spending most of the day whispering sweet nothings into your ear and getting you so riled up that you were practically begging him to tie you up in the back of his van and fuck you. So of course, he did just that: he had to take a pretty picture to remind him of the sight of you at his mercy.

“Princess?” Eddie asked when you once again didn’t reply.

“Sorry, yeah I remember those”.

“Good. Because it slipped my mind that I’d hidden a few of them in my guitar case so what a happy surprise for me when right before I went on stage, I found the Polaroid beneath my guitar. The one where your arms and legs are tied together with my cock buried into that pretty pussy of yours”.

You had to bite your lip to hold back the moan threatening to burst from you as you also had to lean against the wall due to your knees trembling as slickness gathered between your legs.

Eddie continued, “I had to go on stage with a fucking hard-on - luckily the guitar covered it but, as I looked out and couldn’t see you, all I could think about last night were your perfect tits, bouncing up and down- god I miss them!” he groaned deeply. “Want to know how bad it got? At the end of the gig I had to run to the bathroom and jerk off before I creamed in my pants like a fucking teenager”.

You were absentmindedly rubbing your thighs together to try and ease the ache and need that had settled through your core, your nipples pebbling beneath your shirt and rubbing against the material.

“And then”, Eddie continued, “oh… well I can always tell you what I did when I got back home when I see you later, how does that sound Princess?”

“Good”, you say breathlessly.

“Good, what?” Eddie encouraged.

“Good sir”, your entire body heated now with embarrassment, quickly remembering where you were so you glanced over your shoulders to check that your parents hadn’t suddenly appeared but thankfully they were still in the kitchen and couldn’t hear.

“That’s my girl”, his voice once again spiked arousal straight between your legs and you were sure that if in person you’d be begging for him to touch you, pleasure you until you couldn’t remember your name. “What time should I pick you up?” Eddie asked, casually snapping you out of your erotic thoughts and changing the subject completely.

Shaking your head to try and clear your mind, you contemplated for a moment, “Um, I could be ready in 30 minutes so whenever you’d like, no rush or anything, I don’t think we’re meeting anyone until midday anyway”.

“I’ll pick you up in 30 minutes”, were his last words before he hung up, no doubt in a rush to come and pick you up which then meant you also had to rush but you were almost giddy with excitement.

Washing was a simple task but staring at your wardrobe felt like an endless journey. Do you wear jeans or a skirt? Do you go casual or dressy? Pink or blue? You were able to give up and lie on the bed when a blue, knee-length dress caught your eye. It was simple, floaty thin material that wasn’t too over the top but pleasant enough to meet out with friends. Especially as it matched your Converse and jacket, you were happy and had enough time to apply a light sprinkling of make-up but not too much as Eddie always preferred you more naturally than all dolled up.

Looking at yourself once last time, you moved downstairs to wait for your boyfriend, having 2 minutes to quickly pick up a slice of toast before the tale tell rattle and bang from his van were heard through the open window. Quickly pecking both of your parents’ cheeks, you ran to the door, not stopping with your swift pace until you were colliding with a solid chest.

“Woah, hey Sweetheart”, Eddie laughed, cradling the back of your head and shoulders as you nuzzled into his plain black shirt, breathing in his scents of the recently smoked cigarette, leather jacket and cheap deodorant but under all of that was the lemon from his shampoo.

“Hey!” You couldn’t help but beam up at him, looking like a love-sick puppy but happy to see that he was giving you the same look as he dipped his lips to steal a kiss from your lips. You checked him over unsubtly, from his ripped baggy black jeans to the loosely done ponytail that already had a few curls escaping.

Your boyfriend was doing the same check as you as his chocolate eyes roamed over your outfit, focusing slightly for a second as he licked his lips and then snapping out of whatever he’d just remembered. Leaning over, you thought he was going to kiss you again but instead, he took a hefty bite out of your slice of toast before asking “Ready?”

Nodding your head, Eddie happily helped you into the van to be his passenger princess before climbing in himself. The two of you drove around for a while as you both caught up with each other's time without the other, no mention of Polaroids or whatever it was that Eddie did after returning home. 

Even though it has been less than 24 hours since you saw him last, the conversation seemed to flow endlessly as you sat happily next to him, admiring his dimpled grin and exaggerated expressions with his hands as he told you about Gareth locking himself out of his car. 

You laughed and casually leaned your head against his shoulder as he began to drive in the direction of the arcade. Eddie's hand gently landed on your covered thigh, stroking his thumb in comforting circles over the thin material. “Do you remember the last time you wore this dress?” He asks casually before kissing your temple whilst keeping his eyes on the road.

Your face set in concentration as you looked down at the dress, like it could spark a memory for you but it didn’t so you shook your head no, expecting him to say something cute like you wore it for your first date or something; he always had a good memory on these sorts of things.

As you were staring at the road, you weren’t able to see the corner of his lips quip up as he excited himself to tell you. His ringed fingers squeezed slightly against your thigh as he said two simple words: movie night.

A heavy breath rushed from you as it all came flooding back. The last time you’d decided to wear this outfit, Eddie had been so riled up by the pretty clothing, that he’d complimented you almost constantly as you both attended Steve’s for a group movie night. However neither you nor Eddie saw the end of the film as the two of you were locked in the bathroom with Eddie's fingers pumping into your hole.

“Remember now?” He asked noting the way your thighs clenched and eyes unfocused slightly.

“Yes I remember”, you mumbled in response, refusing the meet his eye contact for fear that you’d fall right into those beautiful orbs and lose your mind. 

“Good, I want you to think about that today as we’re out and about because I know for damn sure that’s exactly what I’m going to be thinking about”.

“Ok”, you paused for a breath and added, “sir” for good measure, absentmindedly reaching for the hand on your lap to play with his chunky silver rings, twisting them around and around. A little habit you’d developed when you were feeling somewhat submissive and needy, finding the touch of his jewellery comforting as it meant he was close. Eddie smirked down as he also noticed this, loving how easy it was for him to get you all worked up and needy for him, In fact, it was something he craved, especially when you clung to him like a koala, he needed you just as much as you needed him so welcomed the grabbing and touches. 

The two of you arrived and somehow managed to be late, even though you’d both been driving around for a while. Everyone was already inside the arcade, hardly even noticing your entrance until Eddie shouted, “The fun has arrived!”. Not only did this bring the attention of all of your friends but also the attention of everyone else so you promptly rushed to your favourite machine.

Eddie of course, followed directly behind you, wanting to stay close even though he was itching to play a different machine. Inserting the money, you began to play, full concentration on the tiny screen in front of you but this was swiftly distracted by the warm solid body standing directly behind you. His comforting smell wrapped around you like a warm hug as he rested his chin on your shoulder, hair stroking against your cheek and hands on your waist beneath your jacket. It was nice to just be in each other's company, friends around, casually chatting as they gamed next to you but once they’d left and you were once again just with each other, you became hyper-aware of his presence and casual kisses against your ticklish neck.

“Don’t get distracted now, Sweetheart”, Eddie teased whilst tightening his hold on your waist, pulling himself even more flush against your back. “Just concentrate on the game, not on me”.

Your silence was enough to know that you were doing exactly the opposite of his request and were tongue-tied and unable to think of a witty response. Especially as he gently blew onto your ear, sending a rush down your spine. “Keep your eyes on the screen, otherwise how will you win?”, Eddie’s voice was low and his chest vibrated against your back. Your eyes snapped back to the screen, not even realising that you’d tried to glance over your shoulder up at him. Eddie had returned to his earlier mindset, intent to thoroughly dampen your underwear and muddle your coherent thoughts with arousal and need, especially as he casually remarked, “I know it’s highly inappropriate but I would really love to take you back to my van and lift this dress right now and see what fun I could have”.

Thankfully Eddie's arms remained locked around your body as your knees wobbled and a weak moan burst from your throat but luck was on your side as the game machines were louder so no one could hear.

Eddie heard though as he laughed in your ear, “The thing is, I know you’d let me because you’re my special Princess, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir”, you say without a care in the world or the fact that you’re in a public space.

“That’s my girl, keep up the good work”, his plump lips smashed into your cheek in a dramatic display of affection and then he was gone, moving away to play his own game, leaving you clutching onto the edges of the machine, trying to not look like you were about to melt into the floor.

Making a split-second decision, you purposefully died on the game and trailed after your boyfriend, finding him shouting at a game that was accepting his change. Eddie didn’t say anything as you slid your arms around his middle and ducked under his arm, he simply kissed your forehead and calmed down enough to play the game around your body.

Another hour came and went and you’d finally deemed it safe enough to venture on your own without feeling too needy to be around Eddie. However, it didn’t last long as he returned over your shoulder.

“Want to know the naughty things that I did when I got home last night?”, he asked referring to the conversation you’d had earlier in the morning.

Your fingers hesitated over the brightly coloured controls so Eddie swiftly braced his arms around you to continue playing on your behalf, holding your fingers onto the controls so you were now both playing. You wanted to know Eddie’s erotic tale of his adventures last night that were sure to drive you crazy but you were unsure of the public setting, knowing that you were already horny for him and any further taunting would drive you crazy. Eddie of course, was going to tell you regardless of whether it was a public space or not and was desperate to see just how crazed he could drive you so he didn’t wait for your response before continuing in short, swift statements.

“I got home, found a pair of your panties that still are hidden in my room… and touched myself whilst sniffing them like a fucking perv.”

You tried to turn and look at him to see if he was being serious or not but his arms tightened, keeping you facing forward.

There was too much to process but also not that much at all. He’s actually pleasured himself whilst sniffing your underwear. Eddie was always very vocal and complimentary of how much he loved your smell and taste and that it drove him crazy but you always assumed that it was all just words in the heat of the moment but clearly it wasn’t as he’d been able to pleasure himself with just your smell alone.

Neither of you said anything about this event, mostly because you were trying to convince your body to calm down and Eddie was silently planning his next way to tease you. Even as the hours passed, and you both mingled with friends, played games and snacked, Eddie would continue to whisper things under his breath to you.

Then there were his hands, brushing over your hands, tickling the skin on your neck, a stark comparison to the heavy touches against your hips, holding and squeezing as he’d casually walk past. Eddie Munson was unequivocally on a mission and you were failing very quickly.

It also seemed that Eddie was falling into his own trap, especially as he briefly glanced up at you from across the room and saw that you were biting your lip whilst looking at him, eyes exploring his body and something inside of him snapped. One minute you were surrounded by the bright colours of the arcade, the musky smell of aged carpet and the varying ages of people. The next moment, you’re greeted with fresh air and only Eddie surrounding you as he drags into the alleyway behind the arcade.

Your body was pushed against the uncomfortable brick wall as Eddie rested his arms on either side of your head, body pressed against your front and face dipped into your neck.

“Tease me some more and I’ll show you my reaction.”

“I…I wasn’t teasing, I mean- I wasn’t doing it on purpose”, you tried to explain with panic evident in your voice, already showing Eddie you were slipping further into your submissive mindset of always trying to make him happy.

“Uh huh”, Eddie continued to taunt, “I can see right through your pretty little lies. If you want to tease me like this, then you wouldn’t mind if I teased you right back, is that what you wanted? To trase me so much that I snap and fuck you in this disgusting alleyway?”

You couldn’t talk, eyes wide and worried and yet also wanting him to do exactly that. Eddie has you exactly where he wants you and almost feels bad for a moment knowing that he had been the one to do all the teasing but that didn’t stop him, especially as he had you so pent up. Lifting his ringed hand, he begins by stroking down your jaw with the tips of his fingers, all the whilst his jean-covered thigh lifts and slots itself between yours until it was flush against your clothed cunt.

You simultaneously whimper and shudder, pressing your hips down on your leg to add more stimulation to where you want to be touched the most.

Eddie’s eyes were dark as he studied you, “Look at you, already a whimpering little mess to my touches. Tell me, Sweetheart, what do you want me to do to you?”

Your brain screamed “everything!” and it seemed your mouth did the same as the next moment Eddie snickered. However, he did the opposite of what you wanted as he pulled his body away from yours and took a step back, not wanting to fuck you in the alleyway. His van was one thing but a dirty street? He’d never treat his princess like that.

Seeing and hearing your disappointment at his warmth moving away, he quickly cupped your cheeks, stroking his thumbs against the apple of your cheeks and pulling you into the most delicate kiss that he could muster. Your whimpers turned into mewls as your body raised onto the tips of your toes to try and be closer and deepen the kiss.

“Want you, Eddie, please can we go?” you asked between kisses.

Eddie contemplated denying you for a moment, knowing that the two of you should probably hang with your friends for a little longer but looking at the need in your pretty eyes and feeling your hands gripping his wrists like you never wanted to let go, he knew it was probably best to head back.

“Alright Sweetheart, don’t worry I’ll look after my needy girl, let’s get you to the van and I’ll tell the others we’re leaving”. He heard you audibly sigh in relief as he grasped your hands, interlocking your fingers together before heading in the direction of the car park however, you only took a few steps before stopping. “What’s wrong?” 

You were rubbing your legs together like you needed to pee but it wasn’t this that was the issue. “It’s uncomfortable to walk with wet panties, they’re rubbing on my skin”.

Eddie’s eyes immediately zoned in on the area that you were talking about like he had x-ray vision and could see through your dress. Licking his lips, he suggested, “Well, why don’t you take them off?”

Without even checking if there was anyone at the end of the alleyway, you reached beneath your dress and pulled down your matching shade of blue to the dress underwear, that blissful sigh of relief returning. Eddie to his credit was shocked that you would do something like this within view of anybody walking past and his cock throbbed painfully within his baggy jeans as he saw the sheen of arousal on the material.

Your boyfriend acted on instinct as he quickly grabbed your underwear and rubbed his thumb against the patch of juices, his eyes remaining on you though as he then sucked on his thumb. It was almost pornographic the moan he released, eyes rolling back in his head dramatically. Before you could even squeak or react, Eddie shoved the panties into his leather jacket pocket and grabbed your hand again, moving with more speed towards his van.

Much like this morning, he opened the passenger door for you to climb into, his hands on your waist again to give you a boost up before he shut the door and ran, actually running, into the arcade to say bye to everyone.

Whilst waiting for him, you tried to regain composure, deciding it was much too hot for your jacket and shrugging it off. Eddie returned in record time, slightly out of breath from how fast he’d run in and out of the building as he gave you a cheeky grin, his dimples deepening as he turned on the engine.

“What did you tell them?”, you asked.

“Just that you weren’t feeling very well and I needed to get you home to rest. I think they bought the lie but I also don’t care right now, I just want to be with you”.

You smiled fondly at him, cuddling in close to his side and resting your head on his shoulder as he rested his hand on your thigh in a stronghold which you appreciated, needing it to help ground you to the moment as you played with his rings.

Eddie drove like a madman, even though his body showed that he was at ease, it was clear that he just wanted to be back at his trailer already as he probably broke a couple of laws with how he was driving. The two of you both smiled upon seeing his home and after he parked up, he ran around to your side of the van and helped you down the large step. Thankfully his Uncle Wayne would be at work until the early hours of the morning so you both didn’t need to worry about being interrupted.

Once inside, Eddie let go of his hold on your hips so that he could shrug off his jacket, throwing it onto the couch. “Do you want a beer?” he asked over his shoulder, kicking off his shoes as he walked, something you also did but left them neatly next to the door rather than in a messy pile like Eddies.

“No thank you”, you politely responded, rubbing your arms with the loss of his warmth as your eyes followed his every move. Once more Eddie’s moves were calculated, knowing that you’d quickly follow after him, needing to feel him close, having felt like you’d waited too long to finally be properly alone with him.

Before he could even open the beer, you slid in front of him and pulled his face down to yours, kissing him desperately and breathlessly. The beer clattered onto the kitchen countertop as Eddie laughed against your mouth at how frantic you’d become. He pulled away, glancing down to see that you were trying to rub your body up against his.

“Aw, my princess, are you feeling needy?” he spoke in a patronizing tone which only made you lean in further to prove your point.

“Yes”, you gasp, trying once more to pull his face down to yours but he takes over, taking your wrists in one hand and pushing your body back until you are pressed up against the refrigerator with your hands now held above your head.

“What do you want? Tell me.”.

“I want you, please Sir”.

Eddie clicked his tongue, “Be specific, what do you want from me?”

“Everything I want…everything please, I need you, Eddie”.

The Hellfire leader felt like his chest was going to explode with how hard his heart was beating seeing you like this, he’d expected you to be needy but this desperate? He was ready to walk on flaming coals if you’d asked but he continued his taunting for now, wanting to see if he could get you to say something dirty.

“Aw… Have I turned you into a wet puddle?”

You moan at his words, bucking your hips to show him where you want to be touched. You pulled on your wrists as well, wanting to get out of his hold to play with his hair, kiss his neck, rip his clothes off, just something!

“I think the lack of sleep and horniness has ruined your pretty little submissive head, what do you think?”

You again moan but this time in frustration, face scrunching up as you weren’t getting what you wanted. The hand that wasn’t holding your wrists hovered over your body, moving up the dress until he was grasping your jaw, forcing you to look up into his beautiful puppy eyes that were now hardened and full of dominance. You could feel his chunky rings biting into your skin as his breath kissed the skin of your cheek as he contemplated just what he wanted to do with you first. “I love how responsive you are to me”, Eddie praised, “I mean, look how needy you are after just a few words and touches through the day. You really are mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes, only yours Eddie- Sorry, I meant Sir”, you quickly corrected yourself.

Eddie’s gaze softened slightly as he could see your thoughts racing with the need to please him in every way. “It’s ok, you can say my name, I always like it when you say my name”. Gently he kissed the tip of your nose, giving you a moment of care before asking, “I’ll giv eyou the option. Do you want me to touch you or do you want to touch me?”

“I want to touch you”, you say without a second's hesitation.

Eddies grip released as he held his hands away from you, “Then I’m all yours”.

He expected you to jump into his arms, kissing him or pulling on his hair like you always did when you needed him to be closer but this wasn’t what you did. Instead, you dropped to your knees and clawed at his jeans. Surprising even yourself, you managed to undo his zipper, reach into his checkered boxers and find his cock, hard and waiting for you as you pulled it out of the unzipped hole. Not even bothering to undo his belt as you just wanted to have him in your mouth.

“Shit Princess, Jesus Christ!”, Eddie shouted as your lips wrapped around the tip of his throbbing cock where it was wet with precum and red with how long he’d been hard for. You didn’t want to tease him, you just wanted him to find the ultimate pleasure so you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him deeper.

Your boyfriend tipped his head back, biting his knuckle to hold back the shouts that were sure to be loud enough to disturb the neighbours. Inch after inch of his cock slipped down your tongue and to the back of your throat until you were gagging but you kept him there, not pulling out until you were gasping for air.

“Wait, just wait a second”, Eddie gasped after a couple of minutes. Quickly, he undid his belt and button, moving the material of his jeans and boxers down his hips until his cock and balls were waiting proudly for your mouth.

“Thank you”, you say politely to him, wrapping a hand around the base and moving it out of the way so that you could suck on his balls, pulling each one into your mouth before returning to taking his length. Eddie rested a hand against the back of your head eventually helping your movement by pushing you further down, until you were gagging and burning for air, but the throb of his cock was only adding to the pleasure of it all.

“Let me see those eyes”, he softly demanded, and you hadn’t even realised your eyes had closed whilst in the thought of nothing but his cock. Opening them quickly, you made eye contact and were praised with a loving stroke of the back of his hand against your cheek. “Always so good for me, I fucking love you”, Eddie grunted, his hips snapping and balls tightening at the same time and you knew he was on the verge of cumming. His velvet shaft became harder against your tongue as you sucked him more vigorously “Swallow”, was all he demanded and you did just that as he swore, his pink lips dropping open as he came down your throat. His salty goodness was thick as you swallowed every single drop.

“Fuck Sweetheart, you did so well for me”, Eddie praised a moment later after his cock stopped throbbing and began to soften. Pulling out, strings of saliva connected the tip of his cock to your mouth as he chuckled, wiping it away, “Oh you’re drooling everywhere… Come here.”

Eddie helped you to stand but seeing how unsteady and weak your knees were, he lifted you onto the kitchen countertop, spreading your legs and lifting your dress to expose your drenched cunt to him. In a harsh grip, he grabbed a handful of your hair, holding you steady as he spread your juices around with his middle finger, circling your hole before pushing in.

“Look at you and to think, I’ve only just started using my fingers and you’re already shaking”, he taunted as he pushed his finger in and out slowly, watching your body respond with gasps and twitches. As he added a second finger, he praised, “I love the way you look with my fingers inside of you”.

Your hips bucked at his words as you tried to match his movements, especially as he began to curl his fingers to stroke against your pleasurable spot. However, then you said something that he wasn’t expecting, “Please don’t be gentle with me”.

Eddie didn’t need telling twice as he pulled out and gave your pussy a sharp slap, directly over your neglected clit. He rubbed away with a sting before doing it again and again, watching as you cried out and tried to lean into the touch and only did he stop when your pussy was drenched, puffy and your clit was overstimulated. “Did you like that Princess? Do you like it when I’m rough with you?”

“Yes, thank you sir!”, you shouted, whilst also leaning into the hand still holding your hair.

“So desperate today, aren’t you Sweetheart. Come on let's get this off of you”, as he spoke, he released his hold but only to grip the dress and lift it up and over your head. Next, he helped you down from sitting on the side but only so that he could turn you around and bend you over it instead as he also undid your bra and discarded that to the floor. The dress you’d worn was mde of a stretchy, flimsy material so he was easily able to use it to tie it around your wrists, getting the restrained behind your back.

“Let’s go”, he instructs, holding onto the material and using it to move you around, manhandling you to walk from the kitchen and into his bedroom, helping you to be face first on his mattress, careful to not hurt your neck as your arms were still restrained and arse perked into the air for him.

Eddie began to remove his clothes as you wiggled your hips invitingly and your boyfriend admired the perfect view in front of him before kneeling between your legs, hands massaging the flesh of your hips.

“Say you’re mine”, he demanded in a low, rough voice.

“I’m yours”.

“Tell me again”, he asked as he looked from your face to your cunt.

“I’m yours, Eddie”.

Hearing his name again, he couldn’t wait any longer as he carefully pushed the tip of his now hard cock into your hole. You were already so sensitive, even though you hadn’t cum yet, with all of the arousal pulsing through you, it felt like you’d already orgasmed a handful of times and with Eddie’s recent orgasm, he was just as sensitive. He moved slowly, even though you wanted it rough, he didn’t want to actually hurt you, knowing exactly what your limis were so he made sure to give you time to stretch and get used to his size.

However, once your moans were echoing around the room and you were trying to push yourself back on his cock, he released the restraint that he was holding onto. With his hands holding onto your hips, Eddie began to fuck you relentlessly, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix, his bals smacking into your clit and hips pushing your face into the bed.

Eventually your knees lose any strength that was holding your body up and you collapsed forward onto the bed. Eddie didn’t stop though, especially when he could hear how good you were feeling so he moved one of your legs up, giving him more room and he body crowded over your back as he bites your shoulder.

“Wanna cum Eddie, your words were muffled against the bed but he could already feel how close you were from how tight your pussy was clenching.

“You can cum for me, you’re doing so well”, he praised, licking over the spot he’d just bitten.

However, you groaned in frustration rather than pleasure as you moaned, “But I wanna cum with you Eddie, please cum in my pussy”.

“Oh Princess, all you had to do was ask”.

Eddie fucked you harder, his mouth sloppily kissing your cheek as you tried to hold back your orgasm for as long as possible but it was getting too much, everything was too overwhelming and eventually you couldn’t keep it back anymore.

You came hard and with a high-pitched scream, your pussy clenching so tightly around Eddie that he too found his release, orgasming together, both sensitive and bodies rocking together through the pulses of pleasure.

He stayed inside of you for a moment, trying to catch his breath and it was only when he could feel your restrained fingers wiggling against his abdomen did he push his weight up on his arms to kiss delicately across your bare shoulder. “That tickles”, he mumbled, causing you to giggle tiredly.

Carefully, he knelt back, undoing your bound wrists and massaging the areas to get them to relax at your side. “I'm going to pull out, ok?”

You nod but still hiss at the discomfort of your walls being stimulated whilst being so sensitive and then there was the gush of his cum and your juices that began to pour out and down your clit. “My favourite sight”, he admires, stroking your arse cheek as you smiled over your shoulder before closing your eyes and taking a moment to relax.

Eddie clambers off of the bed, turning on his stereo to the latest heavy metal album and then returningto caefully wipe way between your legs before manhandling your to lie across his chest. There the two of you just lay, enjoying the post-sex high.

Eventually, Eddie sparked up a cigarette, careful to try and blow the smoke away from you but the smell of it had become a comfort for you as you nuzzled further into his naked chest, feeling sleep nearly taking over.

A delicate kiss to the tip of your nose however had you coming back to the moment and opening your eyes, “Hey, don’t go to sleep for me just yet, I’m not quite done with you. We’re just having a little break but I still need to taste you Sweetheart”.

Your body warmed and you were now wide awake with the adrenaline pulsing through you. Eddie took another long suck of smoke, blowing it into the air and you never realised just how much the sight would turn you on. It was going to be a very long, sleepless night.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Multifaceted (S.R.)

Summary: Reader interrogates a witness. Spencer can’t believe what he sees.  

Request: reader where she is super quiet, shy but really really sweet and soft spoken but she has these crazy interrogation skills and tactics that shock the team and Spencer Couple: Spencer Reid/GN!Reader Category: Fluff Content Warning: Police interrogation mentions Word Count: 650

MASTERLIST

Spencer likes to think he knows you pretty well. You’d only started working with the BAU a couple weeks ago, but in those few weeks, he’d taken a particular interest in you.

Of course, that had nothing to do with the fact you were attractive (although you were). That would be shallow.

Instead, Spencer liked you because you were kind. There was an undeniable softness about you that extended far beyond your features. There had never been a moment between the two of you where he felt anything less than appreciated.

For that same reason, Spencer was worried about your first solo interrogation.

He just couldn’t stop thinking of his own. Thankfully, those many moons ago, Hotch had been nearby to put an end to his misery when he’d realized just how far out of his depths he was.

So, Spencer tries to return the favor. He doesn’t tell you that he’s watching because he doesn’t want you to think he is expecting failure.

He stands by. Just in case.

Spencer quickly realizes, however, that you are not the one who might need saving.

Behind the two way mirror, he sees an entirely different side of you. A side that is brusque and intimidating and notably not like the rest of you. Still, your charm somehow bleeds through the rough edges.

Spencer finds himself falling in an entirely different way. That stomach-sinking sensation breaks and makes way for butterflies that feel almost inappropriate.

He watches you with a morbid curiosity as his idyllic image of you dies on the metal table.

There is nothing resembling fear in you as you face evil. You are composed yet terrifying in quick, loud movements.

As you lean closer to something vile, he notices your lip and nose twitch in disgust.

He catches the way the man in the room practically cowers at the sound of your raised voice. He is reminded of the saying:

Demons run when a good man goes to war.

That is how he feels about you.

When you storm towards the exit, Spencer runs to greet you. In that brief time, he stubbornly clings to his vision of you as something soft. He is convinced, however silly it might seem, that something else has happened to explain your behavior.

Yet when he turns the corner and hears the door click shut, he is met with a familiar smile.

“Oh! Hey Spencer,” you chirp happily.

“Hey…” he mumbles suspiciously. He searches your expression for any sign of distress.

He finds none. He isn’t ready to give up just yet, though.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

You look confused, too. That is, until you realize what he meant.

“Oh, were you watching?”

“Yeah…” he confirms.

“So…” you urge him on with a wave of your hand.

He has no idea what you’re waiting for. You giggle as you notice his eyes following your hand like it would help the gears turn faster.

You snap your fingers. He snaps back to reality.

“Was it convincing?” you ask.

After a minute, he almost starts to question it, but he eventually concedes defeat.

“Wh—I-I mean, yeah!” he squeaks, “You were… very, very convincing.”

You recognize the flustered state of him. You take in pink cheeks and wide eyes that are looking anywhere but at you.

Slowly, you realize that Spencer had underestimated just how much of you he had yet to see. You capture that reaction in a treasured memory and tuck it away for a future date.

For now, you just giggle and return to the version of yourself that he was more familiar with.

“You think that’s bad?” you whisper through the side of your mouth, “You should see me when I’m hungry.”

Spencer laughs along with you, even though, if he were honest, he knew he’d like you just as much.

(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)

Reid Taglist (Everything Reid): @mrs-dr-reid , @dreatine , @hopefulfangirl24 , @laurakirsten0502 , @dontcallmekittens , @rintheemolion , @andreasworlsboring101 , @imsuperawkward , @wentz2005 , @lovejules888 , @dashneydanger , @materialisthicc , @violetspoetic , @mslowlife 

Complete Taglist (All Works): @cynbx , @emsma11 , @mediocre-writer , @fightingdragonswithwho , @andiebeaword , @jayyeahthatsme 

[666writingcafe]

An Overgrown Puppy

Cerberus

It's really lonely down here.

I understand that most people are scared of a giant dog with three heads, especially when it's as loud as I am, but I don't mean them any harm. I can't help that I get excited easily.

Of course, when they start calling me names, that makes me angry. I suppose that's why I'm in this cavern in the first place: too much destruction on my part.

Still, it would be nice to have someone that wasn't afraid of me.

"Look, there's flowers bloomin' all over the place!"

As much as I want to begin jumping for joy, I must remain calm. The last set of people that came down here wanted to hurt me. I ended up with a couple meals out of the ordeal, but I wouldn't want to go through that experience again. For one, they tasted rather vile. It took me ages to get that out of my mouth, and even with that I can still taste them sometimes when I burp. It's rather annoying.

"Look how pretty we are..."

Oh no. Not the flowers.

Instinctively, I close all six of my eyes. If I can't see them, they can't tempt me, and my mind can remain clear.

Oh for fuck's sake!

That's not my voice. It doesn't belong to the other two heads, either. No, this belongs to someone else entirely.

This was meant to be a solo venture, but nooo. The brothers just HAD to tag along and make this more difficult for me. As it is, I doubt this creature is going to submit to me, anyway. I don't have anything it wants, but somehow Barbatos is convinced that I do.

Barbatos? They know him?

I like him. Unfortunately, he's too busy to take care of me properly, but he at least seemed sad to have to lock me away like this. Still, orders are orders; while the prince is a lot kinder than the king, he still has to worry about the fate of his people, and I've done too much damage to justify me continuing to walk free unsupervised.

Footsteps.

The flowers are still murmuring, so it's not safe for me to open my eyes and see who it is.

Oh. It's you. Hello, Cerberus.

Why are they acting like they know me?

They smell familiar.

Don't be ridiculous. We've never even met them before.

Listen, I know my scents, and I'm telling you, I recognize this one.

Here we go again. My left and right head arguing again. It doesn't help that one can see into the past while the other one into the future. Makes for way too many philosophical conversations that frankly give me a headache.

Then again, they do make sense sometimes. Like right now.

Let him sniff them.

Thankfully, the flowers shut up at this point, so I can finally open my eyes and see this person for myself. They're rather small. Maybe they would make a good appetizer, but chances are, they wouldn't fill me up, so there's no point in even trying.

The being before me extends their hand out towards me, and I lean down low enough so that my right head can sniff it.

MC! I knew it was you!

What's a person from the future doing here? Don't they know that their presence is going to change the timeline completely? They won't be able to return to the same place that they left.

That's a risk I was willing to take.

They can hear us?

I'm a little surprised myself. I thought our connection would be nonexistent here, but I guess you still know who I am. At least, part of you does.

I most certainly do! You give some of the BEST belly rubs and treats ever! Plus, you always come and soothe me whenever I can't sleep. I've missed you SO much, MC. It just isn't the same without you.

Please tell me they don't end up abandoning us. The idea of a good belly rub does sound nice.

No, no, nothing like that. In the timeline that I come from, you're primarily someone else's. I just help take care of you whenever I swing by to visit.

Oh, PLEASE! You're more than a mere caretaker. You're like my adoptive parent at this point. If I knew I wouldn't scare people up in the human world, I'm SURE we'd spend more time together, but as of right now, that simply isn't possible.

I can sort of follow along with the idea this MC being a human and yet appearing like a demon in this moment, but what I don't understand is this: if they don't end up being my owner, then who does?

This guy.

I totally didn't see him walk in. He's rather imposing with his wings spread out like that.

LUCI!!!

"Luci"?

It's short for Lucifer.

"Zephyr, what exactly is going on?" Lucifer asks, frustration evident in his voice. "Why are all of you down here in the first place? This isn't a safe place for you to be in. At all."

"Well, I came under Barbatos' instructions. Can't say the same about your brothers."

"Bullshit."

"You are more then welcome to talk to Barbatos yourself if you don't believe me, but I'm telling you the truth."

"Then why didn't you tell them to go home?"

"Because Mammon wanted to do something that would cause the other demons to finally shut up. He's tired of you all being treated like shit simply because you used to be angels." Lucifer slowly blinks in shock. "Believe me, I had every intention of sending them away, but I also wasn't about to argue with Mammon when he's that passionate about wanting to improve your situation here in the Devildom."

Six more demons appear, but they hover around the entrance, too afraid to step inside. Lucifer turns his head and looks straight at me, appearing deep in thought. It's clear that he's not the same person that my right head recognizes. Not because of his appearance, but rather his personality. He seems way too cold and rigid to love an animal.

Then again, I've heard that sometimes, those that appear that way end up being the ones that care about others the most. Maybe he's just putting up a emotional barrier at the moment, and he'll open up eventually.

"I suppose there's not room for him at your place, is there?" Lucifer finally sighs, maintaining eye contact with me.

"Unfortunately, no," MC/Zephyr answers. "And I don't want him wandering the woods by himself. He could get hurt." Lucifer pinches the bridge of his nose.

"I really don't want to do this, but he seems rather attached to you, and it would be cruel to leave him here without knowing if and when he can see you again." He pauses. "He can stay at the House of Lamentation with us, but he's your responsibility, Zephyr. I don't want to hear you complain about having to take care of him, and you're certainly not going to push him onto one of us. If you can't manage that and still complete your duties as our attendant, then I'll have no choice but to put him back in here." MC/Zephyr nods their head.

"Understood." There's a slight glint in their eye, but either Lucifer doesn't notice it or is simply choosing not to comment on it.

It doesn't really matter in any case, because I'm about to be free of this cave! Oh, to breathe fresh air again!

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr

[prince-liest]

Latest 666 + body swap fic both have like, these brief moments where alastor or someone else realizes about alastor that like—he doesn’t expect people not to take advantage. He thought Angel was going to keep his body and that Vox would keep the chain on. It’s like a simultaneous “well that’s what I would do” and “why the fuck would something GOOD happen.” It’s sooooo much. -🍓

Ahhh, yes! I like to write Alastor as someone that really struggles with trust. It's easy to say "trust issues!" with a funny hand wave and leave it at that, but in his particular case I think it's particularly interesting to write him as a character who, like. Subconsciously wants to trust, but consciously doesn't want to want it. He sees it the same way he sees his burgeoning maybe-friendship with the hotel crew: it's a vulnerability to be taken advantage of! And why wouldn't he? He's a solo-flying overlord. His entire base of power is built off of the backs of people who he's either killed or taken the souls of.

Even the more genuine friendships we see him have in canon fit into that framework. Niffty is presumably under his contract. Mimzy relies on him for protection and doesn't have the power to challenge him. Rosie and his relationship with her looks to me like it's genuine, but built off of a careful balance of give-and-take favors the upturning of which would be damaging to their relationship because they are both overlords.

He clawed his way to the power that he has through violence and taking advantage of the opportunities presented to him, and he's spent the last hundred or so years living in hell, where that kind of behavior is the status quo for anybody who wasn't born into power. He doesn't believe in Charlie's mission in a genuine way, though he is growing to like the hotel crew against his better judgment. He honestly just... does not expect people to not take advantage of his weakness, nevermind extending genuine kindness to him when it comes down to it.

And I like that we see him in canon as someone who tries so hard to be the inhuman, almost mythical monster called the "Radio Demon," but who nonetheless has hung all of this on the very human underpinning that is Alastor-the-person. He's still a human being with feelings and socialization needs - and sometimes he feels safe and powerful enough to condescend to indulge them, as he does in the finale's scene where he talks to Niffty about enjoying the hotel crew's company.

...And then he's immediately punished for it. Physically, by Adam, but also emotionally, by his own immediate conviction that he only got hurt in the first place because he let things spiral out of control and that the idea that he would have gone out for the sake of the hotel is horrifying. How can one justify extending trust when doing so has such immediate and obvious negative consequences?

(The answer is, of course: slowly, painfully, and not without frequent backsliding. I can't wait to see the canon version of this!)

[quin-ns]

Mastermind (JJ Maybank x Reader)

I was so sure that I had a request for jj + mastermind by taylor swift from when I was taking those prompts… and now I can’t find the ask. either it disappeared or I’m delusional but I wrote it anyway so here enjoy

ik it’s a normal fic during the horny month but I’m stuck on literally everything soooo

The first night you saw him, blonde hair and a winning smile, you knew you wanted him. It felt like fate that you would end up in the same room at the same time. You were from different sides of the island, you might’ve never met him if it weren’t for the fact that the party invite went to everyone.

That first night, you talked to him for hours. Like a piece on a chess board, you maneuvered yourself into his purview. You weren’t going to approach him outright, no… no, you had to be clever about this. You made it a coincidence that you ran into him, and talked with him as if you hadn’t already planned what you were going to say.

Maybe he didn’t realize you were a Kook, or maybe he didn’t care, but he flirted with you. You were sure of it even before he touched your hand, but that made you certain. The fuse had been lit, and there was no putting it out now. Even before you knew his name, you knew he was going to be yours.

Although, you liked having a name to put to the face that resided in your dreams. JJ didn’t quite leave your thoughts, even in sleep.

It wasn’t accidental when you ran into him again a week later. You heard from someone, who heard from someone else, that his best friend was throwing a kegger at the Boneyard.

You guessed since it was his best friend, JJ would be there, so you made sure you were too. And you were right. Good thing you’d worn your favorite dress.

When he saw you, you smiled, and JJ walked right up to you. You’d left a lasting impression, just like you had planned.

“Hey, Y/N,” he greeted like he was trying to be casual, but he seemed excited to see you.

“Hey—JJ, right?” you asked, as if he hadn’t been on your mind for days.

“You remembered,” he replied, a smile tugging at his lips.

You smiled and teasingly said, "Do I get a prize?”

It made him laugh, and it was just as lovely as you remembered.

“You do, actually.” He extended a red solo cup towards you, and you raised your brows a little, impressed. “First place name-rememberer…” he trailed off as you took it, face scrunching a little. “That was lame, wasn’t it?”

You chuckled, then sipped your drink. You saw the way he watched you, knowing what you were doing. When you lowered your cup, you couldn’t help but smirk.

“I wouldn’t say lame. I’ll go with cute.”

The relieved smile confirmed everything you knew as you began to lay the groundwork for this relationship.

At the kegger you flirted all night, just as you had the first night, and when he asked for your number, you gave it to him.

From there, the dominos cascaded in a line, just as you had set them up.

You saw him around, and you met up when planned, and soon enough, you were official. It was all exactly as you had designed.

Months of pure happiness with JJ passed, and you knew you’d made the best decision of your life. Not to brag, but felt like a mastermind.

Finally, one night, you decided to tell him on a whim.

“That first night we met… I knew I wanted to be with you,” you confessed, wrapped in JJ arms as you laid facing one another. You smiled a little to yourself. “And I… I made sure it happened.”

A smirk spread across JJ’s face. That look told you everything; he knew the entire time.

[oopspeter]

We'll never have sex

SUMMARY: Returning from a year long mission should be a relief, but the terrors from those hard months have followed you back home. Struggling to find comfort in your old ways, a certain co-worker introduces you to his own salvation-- distraction.

WARNINGS: 16+ rating for mature themes, blood, allusions to torture, foul language, minor to medium injury descriptions, weapons and violence.

WC: 3.6K

NOTES: First fic! Please let me know what you think-- it hasn't been proofread very well.

"Are you taller than the last time I saw you?" You tease, in awe of his largely built physique.

"I guess everything finally loosened after being off of the ice for so long," Bucky says rather non-chalant.

"Has the giant stick finally fallen out of your ass then?" You quip with a cheeky grin.

"Never," he shakes his head with an equally matched smile.

"And decided to evolve from that 'lord and saviour' haircut?" You motion to his new trim.

"I've decided that look only suits the holiest of men, which of course I don't qualify for," he instinctively runs his fingers through the chopped locks.

The sound of a heavy heel echoes on the polished concrete, a grand entrance for the one and only Tony Stark.

"Hermit and the recluse!" His hands spread out like an awful gesture of welcome.

"I thought you were too old for modern hip-hop references, Anthony," you push your lips into a thin line, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

"Puh-lease, as if gramps here even knows what I'm yapping about," Tony points his thumb over his shoulder at Bucky as he walks past.

Even though he was totally right, Bucky also refrained from producing any sort of a reaction.

"Here to spread anything useful or are you just trying to be a dick?" Your current distaste for the playboy was evident in your tone, but it was nothing new. Deep down inside you did feel a sense of protectiveness towards him, as did he to you.

Opening the large, stainless steel refrigerator that looked like it could hold at least six months worth of food at a single time, he snatched a bottle of lemon water before slamming the door shut again.

"Since you're back, Banner wants to do a few procedural run throughs just to check up on your health," he flicks the cap off of the bottle which goes flying into the bin. "Oh, and the Star Spangled Banner would like to see you as well-- not the Bruce Banner, but the Star Spangled one."

"You can just say Steve, you know that right?" You squint at him as he daintily sips from the mouthpiece of the bottle.

"Just proving my vocabulary has extended further than the most generic white-man name in America," he shrugs coolly, and you kinda' wanna punch him in his smug face.

The ex-soldier stands as still as stone beside you during your exchange with Tony, if you couldn't see the gentle rise and fall of his chest you'd think he was dead with the lack of noise emitting. Choosing to ignore him, the man takes the cue to leave the room, still feverishly sipping the bottle of lemony water. Once the sound of his heavy heels disappeared out of the kitchen and down the hallway, you noticed how Bucky's shoulders relax.

"Bet you're dreading being back, huh?" You allow to corner of your mouth to turn upwards slightly.

"I could say the same thing to you."

There's an unspoken tension in the air, something far from awkward but not any nearer to comfortable either. Had it been a year and a half since you last saw him? On his six month mission to Angola, at the fourth month you had been sent off on a mission of your own in the Pacific islands to track down an old HYDRA associate who had formulated a plan to obliterate the entire planet from his tiny laboratory in the middle of bum-fuck no where.. no biggie, right?

The seemingly short mission of yours turned into a solo, twelve month exhibition trying to chase a man who was half the size of yourself and almost as clever. Eventually when you caught up to him and the few friends he had made along the way, the year job was over in thirty seconds. Underwhelming.

Sure, you’d escaped death a few times, but not by the man who you’d been hunting. Turns out there were a few other undesirables along your path that you just couldn’t miss the opportunity to lock up. Maybe that was a bit of a roadblock, too.

“I don’t want to keep Bruce waiting, I’ll uh.. see you later?” It was a hopeful question.

“Certainly,” he nods his head in reply, and your heart skips a beat or two.

You blame the heart issues on being so emotionally disconnected from anyone for the past twelve months.

The appointment with Bruce was swift, you chat for more of the time than you did actually doing the check up. He prescribed you with a few pain meds, re-dressed some wounds you’d brought back with you and altered your fitness plan to better accommodate your new injuries. Bruce had a way when it came to making people feel safe, despite the fact any moment a big green monster could jump out and crush you.

There were the usual questions like, how has your diet been-- have you been getting enough sleep-- are the night terrors still occurring-- any unusual pains-- are you sexually active?

The answer has always been something along the lines of nutritious, not at all, all of the time, plenty and no.

It's hard to maintain a sex life being away all the time and locking yourself in your room when you are around, even harder trying to manage a relationship. Sure, you've dated before, dabbled in a love life or two before inevitably deciding it wasn't for you. It never will be for you.

It's far past nightfall by the time you actually decide to leave your room, walking barefoot through the long, cold halls of the tower before finding yourself in the kitchen. Your stomach growls to protest your hunger, throat scratchy and dry as symptoms of your thirst. The automatic lights flicker on the moment you walk through the threshold into the kitchen. A pristine, clean kitchen soon to become the next victim of your horrific cooking skills.

First of all you grab a glass from it's respective cabinet, running the water from the tap to fill it up. Your lips meet the mouth of the glass and you drink, quenching your thirst with a relieved sigh. The water here is refreshing, hygienic, in great contrast to what you've been drinking for the past year. Feeling the coolness in your palms you go to take another sip.

It's metallic, tastes like you've drunk straight from a muddy puddle. The water they have just thrown on your face definitely mixed with the blood dripping from your nose and clinging to your lips. Coughing up a mix of flehm and mucky water, you thrash around in the flimsy wooden chair you've been restrained to.

The room smells of mildew, wet dog fur, and something that is heavily rotting. You can blame the stink of decomposition on whatever is beneath that blue tarp tucked away in the far corner of the room. There's no light aside from a single bulb eerily hanging above your head like some old, cliché horror movie.

Your wrists hurt more than usual and this time you can't blame it on early on-set arthritis, but instead the finger-marks imprinted in a purplish green and the thick rope that rubs against them. The silhouette hiding in the dark approaches you in the light, the indistinguishable appearance morphing into that of a tall man with a mask that hid his face and resembled a smiling monkey. It would be the least menacing thing in the room if he wasn't wielding a knife as large as your forearm.

It's silent aside from the obnoxious drip from the ceiling on the tarp. Drip. Drip. Drip. The face of the knife shines in your eye, reflecting from the light of the bulb hanging from the ceiling. His feet drag along the crusty floor, it's evident he has a limp by the way he carries himself towards you. If you had a free leg or two you'd drive your foot straight into his knee to completely eliminate that problem for him, forever; but how tightly they had bound you prevented even a nudge of movement.

The masked man is close enough for your knees to touch, taking the tip of the sharp knife and dragging it across your cheek to leave a light mark that brings blood in it's wake. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of even a slight whimper which evidentially leaves him unsatisfied, because the knife leaves your face and dives into your--

"Hey, are you okay?"

The glass in your hand shatters completely, hundreds of shards diving and piercing the skin on your palm, the water that was left now drenching your socks. Were you holding it so tightly that the sudden fright made it break?

Swinging around with a crimson hand you find an equally shocked Bucky, lips slightly ajar as a physical indication of his surprise. Not even a moment later he's rushing over with a dishtowel to wrap around your bleeding hand, the white terry cloth quickly becoming stained. You can tell he's panicked by the rise and fall of his shoulders, yet you are struggling to even breathe.

The rotting and mildew is replaced by lemon disinfectant and lingering cooked onion. A dark, dank room now replaced by a pristine, white kitchen. The man in front of you is not a man who wears the mask of a monkey, but instead the one and only Bucky Barnes.

"Fuck, fuck," he has the towel wrapped so tightly around your palm. "We need Banner--"

"No!" You interrupt him, finally finding your own voice. "I don't want to wake him, please don't disturb him."

"Then what do I do?" You can tell he is trying his best to keep his composure and not snap at you for being so stubborn like he has so many times before.

"Get the kit from under the sink, wait for the bleeding to calm and I can take the remaining shards out of my hand," you instruct.

"I will take the remaining shards out of your hand," he corrects. "Keep pressure on it please."

His callous hand places your other hand on top of the towel, pushing the back of it down to apply the same pressure he was before. He's rushing to grab the kit from beneath the kitchen sink, taking his hand to shove all of the bleach bottles aside instead of carefully rummaging through.

You've already made your way to the island, taking a seat at the bar stool and leaning your elbow against the marble. It fucking stings. You have no idea how you transported all the way back into the room after shoving the memory so far down to the depths where you thought it could never recover.

You take in his evening look, those baggy grey sweatpants a signature at-home look of his. The creased t-shirt a dark navy and border lining a compression tee from the way it hugs his torso and biceps so tightly. There are bags under his eyes like there always is, and his brows are pulled tightly together in deep concern.

Your heart does that concerning thing again. Perhaps the bloodloss?

He stands beside you at the end of the counter, the fine marble a slight barrier between your bodies. He unzips the kit with such force you're surprised the entire thing hasn't ripped. He's panicked, you can tell.

"Hey," your uninjured hand reaches out to lightly touch your wrist. "Breathe, it's okay, I'm not dying."

Bucky pauses, and he isn't breathing-- until he does. His tense shoulders drop and his face finally relaxes, then he moves your hand back to apply pressure to the towel.

The silence between you is intense and lasts for what feels like forever. You can tell there's a question on the tip of his tongue that he's too afraid to ask, and you've got a feeling you're not quite sure how to answer it either why. You're not sure why you broke the glass, or why you became absent for so long, or why you were back in that room again.

"Why are you awake?" He interrupts your escape into your own head.

"I couldn't sleep," you answer honestly. "Neither could you?"

Bucky shakes his head in reply. "No, I couldn't."

"Never can." You both say in unison.

There's a pause.

"I'm sorry for scaring you," he doesn't look you in the eyes, instead stares at the red cloth covering your hand.

"You didn't mean to," you shake your head with reassurance, offering a small smile to show that you aren't upset with him at all.

"What if I did?" The corner of his lip upturns.

"Then we'd have a bit of a problem, wouldn't we?" Your tone is playful.

"How about we leave the sparring for after, when all of the glass is out of your hand y'know," he shrugs jokingly.

"Right," you nod your head in agreeance, pulling the towel back to reveal the palm of your hand.

It's definitely not the prettiest thing you've ever seen, but not the worst either. There's only one significantly deep cut but the rest just brushed the surface few layers of skin. Bucky is quick to get to work with the tweezers, disinfectant and plasters.

As he works on mending your hand you can't help but look at his face.

Compared to the last time you saw him there's a scar or two more on his right cheekbone, a significant healed slash across the bridge of his nose, a few extra wrinkles in the corner of his eyes. The stubble on his jaw, chin and upper lip is well maintained and lacks intensity on his neck. The cropped look suits him, hints of grey coming through as a reminder of his aging body now that he has been off the all the chemicals and the ice.

Your eyes trace his side profile, from his hairline to his forehead, eyebrows to the tip of his nose, nose to his lips, lips to his chin and then back to his lips. They're pursed as a habit of concentration, blue eyes trained on the task at hand (literally).

Though it stings, it's practically painless with the way he leans into the counter to reach you. Your heart is skipping again, but this time you think you know why.

"Done," he claps his hands together. "I definitely recommend seeing Banner tomorrow though, even though I spend my weekends fixing myself up I sure as hell ain't a doctor."

"You did a mighty fine job anyways, Mr Barnes," you admire his handy work, though you definitely need that deeper cut a proper look at tomorrow. It'll definitely stop the bleeding and keep it all together for the meantime.

The tension resumes it's place between you, it's palpable.

Your stomach growls in the quiet room.

"Are you hungry?" He quirks a brow.

"Yeah, I was initially in here to cook," you nod your head and rub your forearm with your uninjured hand sheepishly. "Kinda' foiled now." You wave your now bandaged hand.

"Can I take you somewhere?" He's polite, and looks at you like an expectant puppy. You can't help but grin.

"Sure."

It’s a stones throw, or two, from the tower before you finally arrive at your destination. The roaring of his motorbike falls to silence as he uses his heel to push out the kickstand, leaning the bike on it and throwing his leg over to hop off. Reaching his hand out he offers to help you down, which you gracefully accept, placing your hand in the palm of his own and jumping out of your seat.

Dinner was gorgeous. Some little, family owned, Thai place hidden in Brooklyn, where the women knew Bucky’s name and the men shook his hand. They presented you both with a free entrée. It sure as hell made you forget about that little episode in the kitchen. The second the food met your tongue you practically melted into your seat, and Bucky laughed as if to say ‘I know, right!’

Conversation flowed easily, any moment of silent was just a cause of food being stuffed into your mouths. He didn’t ask why you couldn’t sleep, or why you were in such a state and broke the glass. Bucky knew you’d tell him when you were ready.

A shared plate of Khao Niew Ma Maung and a more than generous tip later, you find yourself standing outside of the door to your room. Laughter echoes down the empty, dimly lit hall as you keep at least a foot between you— not daring to even brush arms. His strong featured are illuminated by the shadows, and that funny feeling rests heavily in your chest.

There’s a blanket of silence that falls between you two, not wanting this quiet moment to end. You can see the gentle rise and fall of his chest, and if the super soldier hearing was true he’d definitely be able to hear the heavy beat of your heart.

“Thank you,” you break the silence. “I— tonight was lovely.”

Bucky hums. “It was.”

Neither of you move a muscle, an invitation lingering on the tip of your tongue.

You open your mouth to speak. “Do you—”

“Yes, please.”

Inside your room is sweet, the bed is made with the cosiest of sheets, books stack shelves accompanied by little trinkets you display proudly. Flicking a match you ignite your pumpkin-scented candle for a source of light, the blinds already automatically pulled down on the floor-to-ceiling windows. If the crisp, untouched sheets were not enough of a sign that you couldn’t find rest, perhaps the growing bags under your eyes were.

Respectfully he kicks his shoes off at the door before stepping on your plush carpet, shrugging off his own jacket and neatly placing it on the back of your desk chair. He’s never been in your room, no one has besides Banner who stumbled in panicked to find you a shaking mess on the floor. That’s a story for another time.

You lay on top the bedspread and rest your head on the plush pillow, hands intertwining on your stomach as you stare at the ceiling. Letting out a gentle sigh you feel the mattress dip to the right of your feet.

“You can lay with me, don’t be shy.”

He’s hesitant to do so, but you can feel the warmth of his body as he lays parallel to yourself. You can smell his cologne and it’s much nicer than your expensive candle.

“I like what you’ve done with the place,” he motions with his hand that you can see in your peripherals.

“You thought I’d be happy with the Stark furniture they so kindly gifted us all when we first moved in?” You put a certain emphasis on the word, which causes him to chuckle. The bed shakes under his weight, and the butterflies flutter.

“I think I broke the bed frame on the third day,” he shuffles beside you, you can tell there’s a smile on his face that matches yours.

“Holy shit, who did you do?”

“No— no— not from that!” He’s quick to jump in and defend himself, evidently flustered. “Turns out the billionaire couldn’t spare the few extra dollars to buy something that could hold 260lbs.”

“So what, you were just sleeping and it collapsed beneath you?” You turn your head slightly to glance at his face.

“I mean I kinda’ face planted on it after I got home from a frustrating mission, and it just splintered beneath me.”

“Oh god,” you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle a giggle. “I would’ve paid to see that.”

“I was pissed,” he shakes his head, turning it slightly to look into your eyes. “I stormed through the complex and kicked open Stark’s door.”

“Did you get a new bed frame?”

“No, my mattress is still on the floor.”

“I think you need to make another complaint to head office then.”

“You bet,” he shakes his head with a heavy sigh, but the upturn of his mouth tells you that it’s the least of his worries right now.

There’s a certain tension in the air as his cerulean eyes drown in your own, nothing but the crackling of the candle wick and your combined breaths filling the void.

“Thank you, for taking me out tonight,” your eyes trace his jaw to his lips before flicking back to his own. “I—I wasn’t doing too well.”

“I know,” he nods his head in understanding. “I should be thanking you, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Mrs Nguyen so happy to see me walk through that door with someone other than myself.”

“Is that why she’d check on our table every five minutes despite the fact we were the only people dining there?”

He chuckles, running his hand through his chopped hair. “Seems so.”

For the first time in a very long time, you feel your lids getting heavy as your body sinks further into the mattress. There’s a warmth rather than that awful cool you feel so often, and it’s starting to become a challenge to keep your eyes open.

After what feels like an eternity of struggle you lift your head slightly to notice how Bucky’s lashes now rest on his cheeks, lips parted to let out quiet breaths. And suddenly in this moment you are safe, and everything is okay.

Your lips meet his forehead in a soft, gentle kiss. “Thank you.” Before you rest your head a little closer to his own and fall into a sleep you’d been praying for.

[kyleoreillylover]

Chapter 7- Part 2- The Battle Before the War

Series Summary/Masterlist

warnings: wrestling related violence, manipulation, drinking.

Summary: You are close to cracking under the pressure, so your girls treat you to a night out. They learn just how much you were affected by the Bloodline... and they leave you conflicted about your place in the Bloodline. We also learn a little bit more about your relationship with Sami while you are trying to heal your own one with Jey. Kevin tries to stir things up, and leaves Sami also conflicted about his place in the Bloodline.

word count: 8,479

tagged: @southerngirl41 @venusesworld @jeysbae @reci1996 @tbonesteakwithasideofmashngrav @hope4more @selena-tyler-564 @saintaquarius @whatdoeseverybodywant @raya-hunter01 @empressdede @judgementdaysunshine @beeposts

a/n: guess who finally decied to update this!! I promise I haven't discontinued this lol. I just had writers block. hope ya'll enjoy this chapter!!

Over the next few days, the tension between the Bloodline was palpable. Roman's mistrust had cast a shadow over the group, creating an atmosphere thick with unease. The fallout from the incident on live television had repercussions that extended beyond personal relationships. The dynamics within the Bloodline were shifting, and everyone could feel it.

You and Jey didn't get into arguments, because you simply didn't talk to each other unless absolutely necessary. You wanted a man, not someone who would question your loyalty at every turn.

And Jey seemed to be keeping his distance as well, perhaps feeling guilty for his actions or simply trying to avoid further conflict, but also because when he did try to apologize, you would cut him off, unwilling to entertain excuses.

He lost to Sheamus due to interference tonight, and Roman and him had an argument that did not end well, and that made him even more unwilling to talk to you. The wounds were still fresh, and you needed time to heal.

Sami had lost against Kevin after Jey aired out your relaitonship issued on TV due to Jimmy, Jey, and Solo interfering right before he was about to win, courtesy of Roman's orders. He wanted to test the loyalty of the members, and unfortunately, Sami became a victim of that power play. The loss left a bitter taste, not just for Sami, but for the entire group.

Sami was rightfully angry, but he understood the complex dynamics at play within the Bloodline. Loyalty, power struggles, and the constant need to prove oneself were all part of the game. The internal strife within the Bloodline was becoming more evident with each passing day.

Trinity- one of your closest friends- visited to check on her husband Jimmy, but when she found the state you were in, she forced you to get out of your room to have a girls night with the rest of your friends.

As much as you wanted to wallow in the emotional turmoil, Trinity's insistence broke through the walls you had built around yourself. She brought you shopping with Liv and Mercedes, trying to distract you from the tension and drama. The four of you had mani-pedis, did your hair, makeup, and were now currently at a bar in the city, attempting to have a moment of reprieve from the chaos that had consumed the Bloodline.

"Girl, you look so fucking gorgeous tonight!" Liv gushed over your new look, giving you a playful nudge. You were wearing a stunning outfit that Trinity helped you pick out, your makeup impeccably done, and your hair styled to perfection. The girls had succeeded in creating a diversion from the heavy atmosphere that surrounded the Bloodline.

You gave Liv a smile, but it didn't quite reach your eyes. She noticed this and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. "You guys didn't have to go through all this trouble for me," you said, your voice filled with gratitude.

Liv squeezed your shoulder gently, her eyes filled with warmth and understanding. "Don't you dare apologize for  needing a distraction, Y/N," Liv interrupted, her tone firm but gentle. "We're here because we love you, and we want to see you smile again."

"We miss seeing you happy," Mercedes chimed in, her voice soft but earnest. "You've been carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders for too long, Y/N. Tonight, let us carry it for you."

Your heart swelled with gratitude for your friends' unwavering support, even in the midst of your emotional turmoil. Despite your initial resistance, their persistence began to chip away at the walls you had erected around yourself. Trinity, sensing the heaviness lingering within you, leaned in closer, her expression filled with empathy.

"You are not allowed to be sad no more." Trinity declared, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Tonight, we're going to dance, laugh, and the only worry you'll have is what drink your'e gonna get next. Capiche?"

You couldn't help but chuckle at Trinity's determined attitude, feeling a flicker of amusement amidst the heaviness in your heart. "Yes, ma'am," you replied, a hint of playfulness in your voice.

And not worry you guys did. You didn't remember how many drinks you all had, but what you did know was that you were throwing back on Liv as the two of you danced on the crowded dance floor. The music thumped loudly, drowning out the worries and tensions that had gripped the Bloodline. In that moment, surrounded by the pulsating beats and colorful lights, you allowed yourself to let loose, to forget the troubles waiting outside the confines of the bar.

Liv twirled you around, both of you laughing as you moved in sync with the rhythm. You left your phone with Trinity and Mercedes, who were watching with amused grins from a nearby table as Liv threw her ass back on you, the two of you lost in the music.

What you didn't know was that your phone was innecstantly ringing with multiple missed calls from Jey. He had been trying to reach out to you, perhaps with the intention of apologizing or sorting things out. However, in the midst of the lively atmosphere and the distraction provided by your friends, you remained blissfully unaware of the attempts to contact you.

Actually, you had missed calls from all of the guys. You… might have snuck away from the hotel without telling anywone where you and Trinity had gone, with the exception of Solo (because Solo was Solo and responsible and reliable when it came to keeping secrets).

Mercedes, feeling a bit too drunk and empowered to get revenge for Jey embarrassing you on TV, grabbed your phone, scrolling through the notifications and messages. Trinity noticed the smirk on her face and leaned over to see what she was up to.

"Girl, you real messy." Trinity cackled at Mercedes' mischievous expression. "What are you planning?"

Mercedes chuckled, holding up your phone. "Just a little payback for our girl here." She showed her the messages from Jey that read

"Y/N, where are you? We need to talk. Please pick up." "I messed up, babe. Just let me explain. Where are you?" "Seriously, answer your damn phone. I need to fix this." "Y/N, come on. Don't do this. Let's talk. I miss you."

Trinity raised an eyebrow, looking at Mercedes with a smirk. "What you gon' do?"

Mercedes smirked back, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Oh, just gonna a little something to keep him on his toes." She quickly typed a response:

"Sorry, wrong number. I'm having a great time without you. Maybe you should learn to trust me for once."

Before posting some pics on Instagram of the four of you having the time of your life, making sure to send the one with your friends looking stunning and happy, emphasizing the fact that you were not alone and clearly enjoying yourself, and making sure to 'accidentally' tag Jey.

Mercedes showed Trinity the response, and they both burst into laughter. "Damn, girl! That's cold, but he kinda deserves it.

Mercedes winked, enjoying the mischief. "He'll survive. Maybe this will teach him a lesson." The two of them clinked glasses, before drinking the night away, reveling in the freedom of the moment.

liked by themercedesvarnado, TrinityWWE, SoloSikoaWWE, uceyjucey and 500,000 others

tagged: yaonlylivonce, TheMercedesVarnado, TrinityWWE, samizaynwwe & uceyjucey

Y/N: your biggest flex <3 never forget that 😘

view all comments:

bloodlinelover: mother is mothering

y/nstan: ooh she mad mad 😭 she tagged his ass

↳user1: I would be too tf 😭 he prolly wishes he kept that mouth shut 😭

comment liked by y/n

Solosikoawwe: appliyng the pressure 🔥

↳y/n: learned from the best <3

↳user1: lmaoo I love her ignoring jey but talking to solo 😭

uceyjucey: my girl <3

↳y/n: not for long if you keep this up <3

↳y/nstan: OMG!?? lmaooo she not playin with you

↳user1: LMAOOO WHO TOOK Y/N'S PHONE THIS IS NOT HER LOL

comment liked by y/n

samizaynwwe: the princess for a reason 🖤

You came back with you and Liv wrapped in each other's arms, buzzed and full of laughter. The night had been a much-needed escape, and you felt a sense of relief and lightness that had been absent for days. As you approached the table where Trinity and Mercedes sat, you noticed their mischievous grins and exchanged curious glances.

"What are you two up to?" you asked, still swaying slightly to the rhythm of the music.

Trinity and Mercedes shared a glance before bursting into laughter. Mercedes handed you back your phone, and you saw the exchanged messages with Jey, along with the pictures showcasing the fun you were having.

"Oh my god, you guys!" you exclaimed, a mix of surprise and amusement on your face. "That's… that's something."

Trinity leaned in with a sly grin. "Consider it payback for the drama he put you through on TV. He needs to learn a lesson in trust."

You couldn't help but join in their laughter. It was a playful revenge, and for the moment, it felt satisfying to turn the tables, even if just a little. the tables, even if just a little. The night continued with more dancing, laughter, and the occasional cheeky glance at your phone to see if there were any more messages from Jey or the others.

As the hours passed, the drinks kept flowing, and the atmosphere became more carefree. You felt a little bit more than buzzed, which opened the conversation to more personal topics. Trinity, being the perceptive friend she was, looked at you with a knowing smile.

"Okay princess, only took a few drinks to finally get the old you." Trinity teased, nudging you playfully.

"What do you mean?" You asked, feeling a mix of curiosity and apprehension at Trinity's knowing smile.

Trinity chuckled, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "Oh, come on, Y/N. You know exactly what I mean. When's the last time we even talked without you being wrapped up in your own head or stressing over Bloodline drama?"

You couldn't help but chuckle at Trinity's blunt assessment. She had a way of cutting through the facade and getting straight to the point. "Fair point," you admitted, taking a sip of your drink. "I guess I've been a little… preoccupied lately."

Mercedes raised a brow, her expression thoughtful. "Preoccupied is an understatement, honey. You've been practically living and breathing the Bloodline drama. You barely even remembered how to relax and have fun until tonight."

Liv leaned against your shoulder, her voice gentle but firm. "Babe, she's right. We missed you, and you are just starting to come back to yourself again. We've all noticed how much you've been carrying on your shoulders lately. It's like you forgot how to be yourself outside of the Bloodline."

You sighed, feeling a pang of guilt wash over you. They were right, of course. The weight of the Bloodline had consumed your thoughts and emotions, leaving little room for anything else. "I know," you admitted, your voice tinged with regret. "I guess I just… I don't know how to balance it all anymore."

Trinity felt a pang of sympathy seeing you struggle with the weight of your responsibilities. She reached out, placing a comforting hand on your arm. She knew how Roman could be, how he had a way of consuming the lives of those around him with his ambitions and demands.

You saw all 3 of your friends exchange a look with each other, and you furrowed your brow, curious about the silent communication passing between them.

Mercedes took a deep breath, her gaze steady as she met your eyes. "Y/N, we love you, and we've always supported your career and your dreams. But… maybe it's time to start thinking about what you want for yourself, outside of the Bloodline."

Your eyes widened in surprise at Mercedes' words. It was a sentiment you had heard before, but coming from your closest friends, it held a different weight. "What do you mean?" you asked, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

Trinity nodded, her expression serious yet gentle. "Look, tonight was the first time in almost 2 years that you allowed yourself to let go and have fun without worrying about the Bloodline. And look at how happy you were," she pointed out, gesturing to your beaming smile. "You deserve to have more moments like this, Y/N. Moments where you can just be yourself, free from the weight of expectations and obligations."

Your eyes were slightly glassy as Trinity's words sank in, stirring up a whirlwind of emotions within you. For so long, you had been conditioned to prioritize the Bloodline above all else, to suppress your own desires and aspirations in service to Roman's ambitions. You didnt realize how you were acting: this depressed, closed-off version of yourself wasn't the real you. And it took the perspective of your friends to make you see it.

"I… I don't know how to do that," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The idea of breaking away from the Bloodline, of pursuing your own happiness and fulfillment, felt simultaneously exhilarating and terrifying.

Liv wrapped an arm around your shoulder, offering you a reassuring squeeze. "It's just that, seeing you with this little spark in your eyes again, Y/N," she said, her voice soft and encouraging. "It's like… you've been hiding behind this facade for so long, and tonight, it feels like you're finally starting to break free from it." Ever since you started hanging out with Sami while you and Jey were on tough terms, is what Liv wanted to say, but she refrained from bringing up Sami's name, sensing that it might complicate the conversation.

Trinity nodded in agreement, her expression filled with determination. "We're not saying you have to leave the Bloodline, Y/N. We just want you to remember who you are outside of it. You deserve to pursue your own happiness, whatever that may look like."

Mercedes slid you a fruity drink that she knew would help you relax, offering you a comforting smile. "And it starts with this. Drink up, babe. Tonight, we celebrate you. Tomorrow, we start figuring out what comes next."

You took the drink from Mercedes, feeling a mix of gratitude and apprehension swirling within you. It was a daunting prospect, to consider carving out a life for yourself outside of the Bloodline. But as you looked around at your friends, their unwavering support shining in their eyes, you felt a flicker of hope stirring within you.

"Okay," you said, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Okay, let's do this."

And with that, you raised your glass in a silent toast to the future, to the possibility of rediscovering yourself and finding happiness beyond the confines of the Bloodline. As the music pulsed around you and laughter filled the air, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was a brighter path waiting for you on the other side.

Could you really see a path without Roman, or better yet, without Jey? (Or Sami, for that matter?)

"So, spill the tea, Y/N. What's going on between you and Jey? And don't give me the 'it's complicated' nonsense. I want details." Trinity asked after the four of you were considerably drunk, and lounging in the celebrity area of the bar, gossiping about your lives.

Liv had started a farm with her boyfriend, Mercedes was going to Stardom and walking fashion shows, and Trinity was killing it in Impact and telling hot stories from Impact's locker room. Unbeknownst to you, your phone kept going off with calls and messages, but Mercedes made sure to turn it off and make you promise to keep it locked in your pocked for the rest of the night.

You sighed, feeling a mix of emotions. The alcohol had certainly loosened your inhibitions, and you decided to share a bit of the turmoil you'd been experiencing.

"It's just… he's been jealous of Sami ever since he's tried to join the Bloodline. And I honestly don't even know why he's jealous. It's not like there's anything between Sami and me. Jey's just letting Roman's expectations mess with his head, and it's affecting us. I can't deal with the constant questioning and doubt." You poured another round of drinks for the table, needing the liquid courage to open up further.

Mercedes sipped her drinking, deciding whether or not to ask you her question. You saw the look on her face and raised an eyebrow, prompting her to go ahead.

"You and Sami do have some history, though, right?" Mercedes asked, her tone careful. "I mean, there's gotta be a reason Jey's so worked up about it."

You nodded, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, we do have history. We were close friends before he even joined WWE. But it's just that – history. Sami and I have always been just friends. And yeah sure, Sami did kiss me-"

"Huh?"

"Girl!?"

"What?!"

You sighed as all three women reacted to your revelation, their expressions a mix of shock and curiosity. The music continued to pulse in the background, creating a surreal backdrop to the unfolding conversation.

Liv was the first to respond, her eyes wide. "Wait, Sami kissed you? And you're wondering why Jey is so worked up?"

You nodded, feeling a bit exposed but also relieved to finally share this part of your past with your friends. "I know, I know! But hear me out…"

"This better be good," Trinity chimed in, her eyes focused on you as she took a sip of her drink.

You took another deep breath before continuing. "It happened a while ago. Sami was going through a tough time, and in a moment of vulnerability, he kissed me. I immediately made it clear that we were just friends, and nothing more ever happened between us. Jey knows about it, and he knows it wasn't something I reciprocated. But for some reason, he can't seem to let it go."

Mercedes leaned back, processing the information. "And did Sami ever apologize for that? Or clarify things with Jey?"

You sighed, a mix of frustration and understanding in your voice. "Yeah, he did. Sami apologized to both of us, and he made it clear that it was a mistake on his part. But Jey… I don't know. It's like he's holding onto it as this big betrayal, and it's driving a wedge between us."

Trinity shook her head, a disapproving look on her face. "That's on Jey, then. If Sami owned up to his mistake and you've made it clear where you stand, Jey needs to get over it. It's not fair to keep bringing it up and using it against you."

Liv, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke up. "I get where Jey is coming from, but if he's still bitching about something that happened in the past, especially when both you and Sami have clarified it, then it's a problem. He needs to move past it and open up about it and stop holding onto resentment or you need to boot his ass to the curb. You don't deserve to be constantly questioned and doubted, especially if you've been honest and upfront about everything."

You appreciated the support from your friends. The alcohol, the dancing, and the candid conversation were all contributing to a sense of liberation. You felt a weight lifting off your shoulders, and for the first time in days, you could see a way forward.

"You guys are right," you admitted, a determined glint in your eyes.

"We are always right." Mercedes added with a playful smirk, and the four of you burst into laughter again.

"But… do you have feelings for Sami?" Trinity asked, her expression serious as she looked into your eyes.

You hesitated for a moment, contemplating your feelings. The atmosphere in the bar, the support from your friends, and the alcohol-induced courage encouraged you to be honest.

"I… no." You couldn't lie to yourself, and the honesty spilled out. "We used to be close. But we realized we're better off as friends. I care about him a lot, but I don't have romantic feelings for him anymore. Jey knows this, or at least he should." Even through the alcohol induced haze, you knew better than to reveal such personal details without some level of caution. There were things about your relationship with Sami that no one would know, and you weren't ready to share those intricacies.

Trinity nodded, seeming satisfied with your response. "Well, as long as you're clear about your feelings, and you've communicated that to Jey, he needs to respect it. If he can't trust you and let go of the past, then it's his loss."

Mercedes squeezed your hand, her touch conveying solidarity. "Exactly. You deserve someone who trusts and respects you. If Jey can't provide that, then maybe Sami is right, and he doesn't fully understand what he has."

You took a swing of is right, and your drink, appreciating the wisdom and support from your friends. The night had turned into more than just a distraction; it became a catalyst for clarity and self-realization.

"Thanks, guys," you said, your voice sincere. "I needed this. I needed to step back and see things more clearly. And you're right. If Jey can't trust me and keeps holding onto the past, then maybe it's time for a serious conversation or a decision."

Liv grinned, giving you a playful nudge. "That's the spirit! You're a badass, and you deserve someone who sees that and appreciates it."

Trinity raised her glass, a smile on her lips. "To badass women who know their worth and aren't afraid to demand the respect they deserve."

The four of you clinked your glasses together, the sound echoing in the bustling bar. In that moment, surrounded by the support and love of your friends, you felt empowered and ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

Unbenwonst to you you accidentally dialed Sami's umber while fumbling with your phone. The loud music and the lively atmosphere of the bar made it difficult to notice the call connecting. As your friends continued to share laughs and words of encouragement, your phone rested on the table, unknowingly broadcasting the sounds of the bar to Sami.

On the other end of the line, Sami's phone rested on a table in his hotel room. He had been going through a mental replay of the match against Kevin and the events leading up to it. The tension within the Bloodline was palpable, and Sami couldn't shake the frustration of being used as a pawn in Roman's power play.

Suddenly, he heard the familiar sounds of a bustling bar, laughter, and clinking glasses. Confused, he picked up his phone, noticing the ongoing call with you. He brought the device closer, listening intently.

At first, he wasn't sure what he was hearing, but as the background noise became clearer, he realized he was unintentionally eavesdropping on your conversation with your friends. Sami's curiosity got the better of him, and he hesitated for a moment before deciding to continue listening.

"You and Sami are real close… huh?" Liv's teasing voice echoed through the phone, and Sami's eyebrows furrowed as he focused on the conversation.

You let out an airy giggle, taking another shot and letting the alcohol fuel your candidness. "Yeah, we were." Sami heard something shift before he heard Liv's voice again. "No offense but the two of ya'll seemed perfect for each other. What happened?"

Sami's heart skipped a beat, his mind racing as he continued to eavesdrop unintentionally. The revelation about your history with him was unexpected, and he couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions.

You sighed, the alcohol loosening your tongue. "You promise not to tell anyone? Not even Trin or Cedes?" It seemed like Trinity and Mercedes weren't aware of the details you were about to share, and Sami's curiosity intensified.

"Cross my heart," Liv assured, her tone serious.

You took a deep breath, the honesty pouring out. "We dated. It was way before I even met Jey. Everyone kept telling us we had chemistry and that we should give it a shot. He confessed after I won the ROH title, I gave him a shot, and one thing led to another."

"And then what happened, girl?!?"

A pause. And then you continued.

"Then in the morning, we started dating. We took it slow, and everything was fine. But then Kevin got in his head when they were feuding. Told him that he needed to focus on his career and that being with me was a distraction. Sami started questioning what we had, and got insecure about it. I tried to assure him, but he started pulling away. Eventually, we both realized it wasn't working, and I broke it off with him." It seemed like there was more you wanted to say, but you bit your lip and refrained from spilling even more.

You took a sip of your drink, and there was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. Sami's mind was racing, processing the unexpected revelation. The raw honesty in your voice sent a wave of emotions through him, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for the way things had unfolded between you two, but grateful that you hadn't revealed the full truth.

"But then we kept having the same chemistry, and he would look at me like he couldn't resist me, and I couldn't resist him either. It became this on-again, off-again thing for a while, and it was messing with my head. I cared about him a lot, but it was so damn complicated. But we stayed best friends, and then I left him behind for the Bloodline… and now Jey has this insecurity about Sami because of Roman's expectations," you continued, your voice carrying the weight of the past.

On the other end of the line, Sami's mind was a whirlwind of emotions. Guilt, regret, and a tinge of sadness gripped him as he listened to your candid confession. The history you shared with him suddenly unfolded in a way he hadn't fully understood before.

"And now, Jey can't seem to let go of the fact that Sami kissed me once. Even though we've moved past that, he keeps bringing it up!" Your voice broke out into a cry, and he imagined that Liv was giving you comforting words, trying to soothe the emotional turmoil you were experiencing.

"Shh, it's okay," Liv's voice came through the phone, offering comfort.

"I… I loved him, Liv." He heard Liv whispering words of support and understanding. "But he left me!"

"And now you need to focus on you, on what makes you happy, and on what you deserve," Liv replied, her voice filled with conviction. "You're a strong, independent woman, Y/N, and you don't need anyone who doesn't see your worth."

He heard your sniffles and the distant sounds of the bar, realizing that he was intruding on an intimate and vulnerable moment." Let's get back to the table, enjoy the night, and deal with all of this tomorrow when we're not drowning in alcohol and emotions, okay babe?"

As Liv led you back to the table, the background noise shifted, and Sami could hear the muffled voices of Trinity and Mercedes. The conversation continued, but he made a conscious decision to end the unintentional eavesdropping. Sami hesitated for a moment, then pressed the button to end the call, setting his phone down on the table.

Did you really love Sami once upon a time? A part of Sami felt a mix of emotions—surprise, regret, and a sense of longing. The raw honesty in your voice had stirred something within him, and he found himself grappling with the realization that your history ran deeper than he had initially understood.

He looked at his phone, where Jey was messaging him.

"Sami, I know yo dumbass knows where she is. Tell me."

Sami's eyes narrowed as he read Jey's messages. The tension within the Bloodline seemed to be reaching new heights, and he found himself caught in the middle of it all. Sami debated how to respond, considering the newfound insights he unintentionally gained into your past with him.

He hesitated before sending the message, aware that his words might not sit well with Jey. Sami couldn't shake the sense of responsibility he felt toward you, knowing that you deserved better than the constant questioning and doubts. Yet, he also understood the complex dynamics within the Bloodline and the potential repercussions of taking sides.

What did he want to do? He wanted to be the guy for you. The guy that understood you, supported you, and cherished you. He wanted to hold your hand through the turmoil, be the one you turned to in moments of vulnerability, and prove that he could be the pillar of support you needed. But he fucked up, and he needed to face the consequences. He wasn't glad you didn't tell Liv the full extent of your history with him.

Taking a deep breath, Sami typed a response to Jey.

"I don't know where she is, Jey. Maybe you should give her some space. It's not my place to meddle in your relationship.You're the one who said I need to stay out of your business, so that's what I am gonna do.Good luck finding her."

The tension within the Bloodline had reached a boiling point, and Sami couldn't ignore the weight of the decisions and revelations that had unfolded.  His mind was a swirl of conflicting emotions – regret, guilt, longing, and a sense of responsibility for how this all went down.

Then he  shut off his phone, and prayed that he could get over you. Sami needed to talk to you, to clarify his own feelings and perhaps offer support if you were ready to accept it, but it wouldn't be tonight. 

Then he went to sleep, and hoped that he made the right decision. 

You were wobbling on your heels of your shoes as you walked back into the hotel lobby.  The four of you had gotten an uber, and they said bye to you with hugs, kisses and smiles, heading their separate ways for the night. The vibrant energy of the bar and the support of your friends had provided a temporary escape, but now reality was seeping back in.

As you entered the hotel elevator, and went up to your floor, you couldn't shake off the mix of emotions swirling within you. The alcohol-induced courage that allowed you to open up to your friends about your relationship struggles was now replaced with a sense of vulnerability.

The elevator doors opened, and you stumbled slightly as you made your way down the hallway to your room. The weight of the revelations and the emotional rollercoaster of the night began to take its toll.

You fumbled with the key card, but it beeped, indicating that it wans't working. You huffed as you tried again and again, but it wouldn't budge.

It wasn't until the 5th time you tried that the door swung open, and you almost fell had it not been for the arms that caught you just in time. A familiar voice spoke, filled with concern.

"Y/N, what are you doing? Easy there," Sami's voice was a steady presence, and his arms wrapped around you to steady you. The scent of his cologne and the warmth of his embrace felt both comforting and disorienting.

You looked up, your eyes meeting Sami's. The dim light in the hallway highlighted the worry etched on his face. His arms steadied you as you regained your balance.

"S-Sami?" you stammered, surprised by his sudden appearance. Your vision was a bit blurry, and the alcohol had made you more unsteady on your feet than you realized.

"Yeah, it's me," he replied, guiding you into the room and closing the door behind you. The dim lighting in the hotel room revealed the aftermath of your earlier emotional journey – makeup smuged, and your hair was slightly tousled from the night's activities. Sami led you to the bed, helping you sit down.

"Are you okay?" he asked, genuine concern in his eyes.

"Is this not my room?" you mumbled, still a bit disoriented.

Sami chuckled softly, his fingers gently brushing strands of hair away from your face. "No, it's not. The constant beeping in my room woke me up, and when I opened the door, I found you struggling with your key card."

You let out a small giggle, the alcohol still affecting your senses. "Oops. My bad."

Sami shook his head at your antics, a fond smile playing on his lips. You looked at him and could see the tiredness on his face, and your expression changed from giggly to serious in less than a second. "I-Im sorry that I woke you up!" Tears formed in your eyes as you felt a rush of emotions. The events of the night, the revelations, and the emotional rollercoaster had left you feeling vulnerable and raw.

Sami's heart dropped as he watched you cry, his concern deepening. He knelt down in front of you, his hand gently cupping your cheek.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. Don't cry." He said softly, his voice filled with reassurance. He wiped away a tear with his thumb, his touch gentle against your skin. The vulnerability in your eyes tugged at something within him, a mix of regret and the desire to offer comfort.

"I'm not mad that you woke me up. Are you okay?" Sami asked, his tone soft and caring.

You nodded, sniffing and wiping away more tears. "I just... it's been a lot tonight, you know? The girls and the drinks and... everything." The emotions that you had kept at bay for most of the night now threatened to overwhelm you. "Did Jey ask you where I was?"

Sami nodded, his expression serious. "Yeah, he did. He's worried about you."

You sighed, looking down at your hands. "I was just hanging with the girls, and-" You hiccuped- "To forget that me and Jey were fighting." Your eyes went teary again, and Sami's heart sank as he listened to your words. "But I just feel worse." 

You peered up at him, and the tension between the two of you was palpable. Sami could sense the emotional turmoil within you, and a part of him longed to be the one to ease that pain. "Why does everyone keep questioning me? Why can't they just trust me?" you whispered, the vulnerability in your voice tearing at Sami's heart.

Sami sighed, his thumb gently tracing circles on your cheek. "People make mistakes, Y/N. Sometimes, they let their insecurities and doubts cloud their judgment. It's not a reflection of you. You're strong, and you deserve trust and respect."

You leaned into his touch, appreciating the comfort he offered. The emotional exhaustion of the night was catching up with you, and Sami's presence provided a sense of solace.

You started giggling, which made Sami smile in response. "What's so funny?" he asked, genuinely curious.

You wiped away another tear, chuckling softly. "Y'know, Liv asked me why Jey is so jealous of you, and I told her that *hiccup* we used to be real close, if you know what I mean." You looked at Sami with a tipsy grin, your words slightly slurred.

Sami's eyes widened slightly, surprised by your confession. The tipsy honesty in your words sent a shiver down Sami's spine. He wasn't prepared for this revelation, and the complexity of your history together suddenly became more apparent. He wondered how much Liv knew, how much she understood about the dynamics between you and him.

He remained silent, allowing you to continue. "And she told me that we seemed perfect for each other. And I started thinking, maybe we were. But then... Kevin got in your head, and you started questioning everything." You sighed, the alcohol making the words spill out more freely than you had intended.

Sami's expression shifted, a mix of regret and understanding. "I messed up, Y/N. I let the pressure get to me, and I let Kevin's words affect us. I should have trusted you."

You looked at him, your gaze sincere. "But you will always listen to Kevin, won't you? You'll always try not to hurt the people you care about, even if it means hurting yourself," you said, the alcohol making your words a bit more candid.

Sami sighed, his eyes meeting yours. "I made a mistake, and I let it affect our friendship. But that doesn't mean I'll always choose loyalty over the people I care about." He placed his hand on your shoulder, his touch gentle yet firm. "Loyalty means nothing when you 're hurting the ones you love. I've learned that the hard way."

You nodded, a mix of emotions swirling within you. You looked at Sami, your eyes searching his for sincerity. The vulnerability in Sami's eyes mirrored your own, and for a moment, the weight of the past seemed to hang between you two.

Unlike Jey, he made his loyalty clear, but not at the expense of hurting those he cared about. The stark contrast made you realize the complexities of the relationships within the Bloodline. Sami's admission struck a chord, and you could see the genuine remorse in his eyes.

"I told her about us, Sami. About everything. And how Jey is so hung up on that one kiss, and it's like... it's like it's haunting us. Like it's this dark cloud that won't go away," you confessed, your voice trembling.

You tugged on your dress strap, making sure it was still in place. Sami watched as you adjusted your dress, his eyes never leaving yours. The weight of your words lingered in the air, and Sami could sense the depth of the emotions you were experiencing. He remained silent, absorbing your confession and trying to find the right words to respond.

"I just don't know how to fix things anymore," you continued, your voice filled with a mix of frustration and sadness. The vulnerability in your eyes resonated with Sami, and he felt a strong desire to provide comfort and support.

Sami took a deep breath, his gaze unwavering. You felt your skin prickle with the intensity of his stare. "Start by talking to him. C'mon, I'll take you to your room, and tomorrow you can have an honest conversation with Jey. Lay everything out on the table, Y/N. The misunderstandings, the insecurities, the mistakes. If you both care about each other, you owe it to yourselves to try and find a way through this."

Sami's words were sincere, and you could sense the genuine concern in his eyes. Despite the complexities of your history, there was an underlying friendship that neither of you could deny. His advice resonated with you, and a sense of determination flickered within.

You nodded, wiping away the last of your tears. Sami extended a hand to you, offering support. You hesitated for a moment before taking his hand, and he helped you stand up.

The room swayed a bit, but Sami's steadying presence anchored you. He let you lean on him as he led you towards the door. The hallway lights blurred as you walked, and Sami kept a protective arm around you.

"Thanks, Sami," you said, your voice a bit more composed. "I appreciate your honesty and, well, being here."

Sami smiled warmly, his hand still on your shoulder. "Anytime, Y/N. Friends help each other through tough times." The word friend made his heart hurt, but he pushed aside his own feelings, focusing on being there for you in this moment of vulnerability.

As you reached your room, Sami stopped and faced you. "You got this, okay? Tomorrow is a new day, and you can work things out. Just be honest and true to yourself. He's a hothead, but he cares about you. Sometimes, he just needs things spelled out clearly." 

He also knew Roman would have his head if you and Jey didn't work things out. He assigned his 'Honorary Uce' to look out for you, and Sami took that responsibility seriously.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Thanks, Sami. I'll do my best."

Sami returned the smile, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "That's the spirit. Take care, okay?"

You smiled up at him, like the stars in the night sky were in his orbs, a mix of emotions twinkling in your eyes. The tension between you was as prominent as ever, and you could practically taste the anticipation in the air. 

Sami was staring down at you, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than usual. The unspoken words hung between you two, a silent acknowledgment of the shared history and the emotions that had surfaced during this unexpected encounter. 

"You're a really good friend, you know that?'" You smiled at him, the lingering words between you and Sami hanging in the air. The atmosphere shifted, and there was a palpable tension.

The alcohol made you way more honest, but you were aware that you should snap out of whatever was building between you and Sami. You needed to focus on resolving things with Jey, not getting entangled in another emotional web. Sami's eyes softened as he looked at you, a mixture of emotions playing on his face.

Sami cleared his throat, his expression becoming more guarded. "I try my best," he replied, his voice a bit quieter.

You gave him a small nod, still feeling the weight of the emotional exchange. "Well, goodnight, Sami. And thanks again," you said, stepping into your room.

"Goodnight, Y/N. Take care," Sami replied, offering a final reassuring smile before turning away and heading back to his room.

As you closed the door behind you, the events of the night swirled in your mind. The encounter with Sami added an unexpected layer to the already complex emotions you were dealing with. You took a deep breath, reminding yourself of Sami's advice to have an honest conversation with Jey. The challenges ahead seemed daunting, but with newfound determination, you were ready to face them.

Wargames was tomorrow, but you had never felt less prepared for the battles both inside and outside the ring. The emotional turmoil had taken a toll on you, and as you changed into more comfortable clothes, you couldn't help but replay the night's events in your mind.

Unbeknownst to you, Sami had run into Kevin in the hotel hallway as he made his way back to his room. He internally rolled his eyes at the sight of Kevin, a reminder of the tangled web of emotions and conflicts that had affected your relationship with Jey. Kevin, sensing Sami's presence, turned to face him with a sympathetic look on his face, as if he wasn't gonna go to war with him tomorrow.

"Rough night?" Kevin asked, swiping his card to get a late-night snack from the vending machine.

Sami glared at Kevin, his guard immediately up. "You're one to talk."

Kevin chuckled, paying for his snack and turning to face Sami. "Look Sami, I don't know what Roman told you to get you this brainwashed as his 'Honorary Uce,' but you're treading on thin ice. Y/N deserves better, and you know it."

Sami's jaw clenched at Kevin's words, a surge of frustration bubbling within him. The history and tensions between Kevin and himself were as intricate as the web of emotions surrounding your relationships with Jey and Sami.

"Stay out of it, Kevin. You don't know anything," Sami retorted, his tone sharp.

Kevin raised an eyebrow, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Oh, I know more than you think. And I know I might have hurt you in the past-"

"Might have?' Kevin rolled his eyes at Sami, continuing. "Okay, I did. But I have never treated you like a second class citizen, Sami. Remember that when Roman has you picking up his dry cleaning," Kevin said, his tone a mixture of mockery and seriousness.

Sami's fists clenched at his sides, his frustration with Kevin palpable. He took a step closer, the tension between them escalating. "They are a family to each other, Kevin. Something you wouldn't understand. And I'm not doing this for Roman. I'm doing it for her, for Y/N-" Sami realized he said too much, his words hanging in the air. Kevin's eyes narrowed, processing Sami's slip of the tongue.

"And what do you think Roman is gonna do when he finds out how to use her against you? When he realizes you've gotten too close? You think he won't manipulate her to get what he wants?" Kevin's words cut through the tension, his gaze unwavering.

Sami's jaw tightened, and he shot back, "I'm not afraid of Roman. And Y/N is smarter than that."

Kevin scoffed, shaking his head. "The same one that went back to Jey after you, right? The same one that's caught in the crossfire of your loyalty to Roman? You're naive if you think Roman won't use that against you." Kevin stepped closer to Sami, their faces inches apart. The air was thick with tension, both men locked in a silent battle of wills.

"I don't need your advice, Kevin. You're not exactly a beacon of successful relationships," Sami spat, his voice low and controlled.

Kevin's smirk faded, replaced by a more serious expression. "At least I'm not letting the love of my life get hurt by a guy who will always pick his family over someone like her. Open your eyes, Sami. Roman might be your 'family,' but he won't hesitate to throw you under the bus if it serves him."

Sami's nostrils flared, and he clenched his fists, the intensity of the confrontation escalating. Kevin's words struck a nerve, awakening doubts and fears that Sami had tried to bury. The complexity of his loyalty to Roman and the tangled emotions involving you and Jey seemed to tighten its grip on him.

Kevin watched the emotions play out on Sami's face, each one revealing a different layer of the internal struggle. Despite their history, Kevin's words managed to penetrate Sami's defenses, sparking a seed of doubt in his mind.

"Jey is a snake, just like his piece of shit cousin. It might not be today, it may not be tomorrow, but eventually Roman will finish using Y/N and ask Jey to be the one to put her down. And what will he do?" Kevin's face was inches away from Sami's, filled with a mix of bitterness and concern.

Sami's mind raced, processing the weight of Kevin's words. The hallway seemed to close in around them as they stood locked in a silent battle of ideologies. "He will betray her, follow orders like a loyal dog, and leave her broken. And you will wondering if you could have done something to prevent it," Kevin concluded, his words hanging in the air.

Sami's gaze bore into Kevin's, a storm of conflicting emotions raging within him. The hallway was eerily silent, the tension between them almost tangible. Sami took a deep breath, trying to push aside the doubts and fears that Kevin's words had stirred.

"You don't know anything about my relationship with Roman, and you certainly don't know anything about Y/N and Jey," Sami retorted, his voice firm.

Kevin chuckled, a bitter edge to the sound. "I know that you have this kind of pull on Y/N that goes beyond friendship. I've seen the way she looks at you, the way you look at her. You may think you're doing the right thing, but you're just setting yourself up for heartbreak. And for what? Roman's approval? A place in his so-called family?"

Sami's expression hardened, a mixture of frustration and inner turmoil. Kevin's words were like a relentless assault on his convictions. The internal conflict reached a boiling point, and Sami's response was laced with a raw honesty.

"I don't need your approval or anyone else's. I'm doing what I think is right," Sami declared, his voice resolute.

Kevin shook his head, a disappointed sigh escaping his lips. "You're blinded by loyalty, Sami. It's gonna cost you more than you realize." He grabbed the food from the vending machine, before turning back to Sami, and Sami paused.

The confrontation in the hotel hallway had reached its peak, both men standing their ground with a shared history and conflicting loyalties. Sami realized that this Kevin was nothing he ever faced. He wasn't angry. He wasn't trying to tear Sami down with insults or physical threats. He was genuinly concerned, and it struck a chord with Sami.

"Tomorrow, you have the choice to either blindly follow orders and be a pawn in Roman's game or to bring both you and Y/N out of this mess." Kevin said, his tone more somber now. "If you leave, she'll realize that the Bloodline is not worth the sacrifice, and you'll get your girl back, our best fried back.  If you stay, you'll be dragged down with her when Roman decides she's expendable. And I won't be there to pick up the pieces. The choice is yours."

 Kevin's words lingered in the air, the weight of his advice settling on Sami's shoulders, and his gaze even more probing. With that, Kevin walked away, leaving Sami standing alone in the hotel hallway, wrestling with the internal turmoil sparked by their confrontation.

Sami took a deep breath, his mind racing as he tried to process the complex web of emotions and loyalties that surrounded him. The encounter with Kevin had shaken him to the core, forcing him to confront the potential consequences of his choices. The loyalty to Roman, the complicated history with you, and the growing realization of the impact on his own happiness all collided in his mind.

Should he listen to Kevin? Should he betray the Tribal Chief in the heat of battle so he could salvage his relationship/friendship with you? Should he risk everything for a chance at a different future? Should he ignore Kevin and stay true to the Bloodline, even if it meant sacrificing his own happiness and potentially hurting you by Roman using one of you as a pawn to get the other in line? He didn't know what he was gonna do. 

But he knew one thing.

He had to choose between you, Roman, and Kevin. And he didn't know which one would be the right path to take. Each option seemed to carry its own set of risks and consequences, and Sami found himself torn between his loyalty to Roman, his feelings for you, and the warnings Kevin had presented.

But no matter what... tomorrow, he needed to be prepared for war.

[juyeonszn]

BLAH BLAH

PAIRING jacob bae x f!reader

WORD COUNT 2.17k

GENRES fluff ﹒suggestive

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DNI yk all that jazz, mature language, younghoon being stupid, one bed trope 🙀, jacob is shirtless….. that deserves its own warning tbh, reader also is topless at one point but not for the same reason, reader is down bad for cobie, dry humping ig idk if it really counts but i’m including it anyway, this is kinda tame tbh but,,, the tension is there i swear!!

SUMMARY you swore you would never make any physical contact with jacob bae ever again to protect your heart. what the hell are you supposed to do now that you’re sharing a room?

MORE HELLO!!! she is finished 😼 finished her up in a day im impressed with myself ANNSNW ANYWAYS this is a request from my 100 followers event! thank u again moni (@zzoguri) bae i hope u enjoy this 🫶🫶 prompts used are: 10, 12, 13 <3

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs

You know, you weren’t entirely expecting yourself to fall for Jacob Bae.

To be fair, it was very hard not to. From his infectious smile, to his genuineness, he was honestly the complete package. Even before you became friends, it was difficult to not fawn over the guy. You would see him across campus every now and then, laughing along with his friends or something of that nature, and you always felt a tiny ping in your heart.

Then came Eric Sohn and Kim Sunwoo’s annual back to school pool party.

Naturally, parties were the bane of your existence. You could never fully enjoy yourself, what with the clusters of people in one house and the strong scents of both alcohol and weed. However, one of your gal pals managed to convince you to tag along just to say you’d been to one of the infamous parties.

That was your first mistake.

Two hours into your eventual demise, you found yourself swishing around the contents of your red solo cup on the backyard patio, your friends having long disappeared. You were bored out of your mind with no one to talk to and now a near empty drink. A creak of the wooden boards behind you had you spinning around so fast you almost got whiplash.

Jacob Bae gives you a smile, stifling a laugh when you almost spill the last couple sips of your beverage. He sits himself beside you, sighing in either content or relief— to this day you’re still not sure.

“Hi, I’m Jacob,” he extends a hand towards you. “I saw you sitting out here and thought I’d introduce myself.”

Just like they say in the movies, the moment your skin comes into contact with his, there’s sparks. It’s like a jolt of electricity is running along your arm through your nervous system, shocking your brain. From that moment on, you made it a personal mission to never touch him again, out of fear it would happen every single time and you might do something extremely stupid.

Now here you are, ten months later and still just as whipped as you were day one.

Your friends dragged you on a little road-trip just to get away for a bit at the start of the summer. You were nervous thanks to the fact that a wheel spinner decided roommates and you got stuck with Jacob. If anyone asked, you’d say you were pretty good at pretending like you weren’t hopelessly in love with your friend. You looked at him normally, rather than with the want to rip his clothes off and go at it like bunnies.

“Jacob and Y/N sitting in a tree K-I-S-S— ow!” Younghoon rubs his arm where you’d just smacked him, pouting at you. “That hurt, what the fuck?”

“That was the point, bozo.” You roll your eyes, watching Jacob swimming around in the hotel pool. You hug your knees to your chest, resting your chin on top of them. How could someone make something so simple look so attractive?

Tonight would be a true test of faith, the ultimate challenge of whether or not you could truly resist Jacob Bae’s charms. Even if you’d stayed in the same house or same general vicinity, you always managed to dodge sharing a room. There were the few occasions you slept over at his and Sangyeon’s shared apartment, along with everyone else in your friend group. They’d both offered up their rooms for whoever wanted to bunk with them for the night since there wasn’t much room on the couches. You always picked the couch.

But there were no separate rooms keeping you apart this time. There was no couch. Just two beds and a couple feet between them. Oh God. You would be changing in the same room. Jacob Bae would be naked within your reach.

You blink away the thoughts creeping up from the back of your mind. You couldn’t have that mindset sharing a room with him. Couldn’t that be classified as immoral? Disrespectful? Your brain had to stay pure or you might not survive this trip at all.

“Why do you look like you’ve just seen a ghost?” Younghoon asks with an amused lilt to his voice. You give him a nasty side eye in return.

“I might as well have. I hope I keel over and die right now so I can join them.” You huff, your head bobbing up and down as you talk thanks to your knees under your chin.

Younghoon snorts, standing to shake his hair like a dog would after a bath. “You’ll be fine, dude. It’s not that serious honestly. Just think of this as, um, a team bonding exercise.”

“You’re a fucking clown.”

After about another hour of swimming, playing chicken, and other pool activities of that sort, the boys decide to call it a night. Thankfully so, because you had a long day of sightseeing ahead of you tomorrow. You gather your things and part ways for your respective rooms. Some were on different floors than others; you and Jacob’s for example was on the top floor. You don’t know why, but the guys were insistent on swimming first, prior to checking out your rooms.

You waddle behind him like a lost puppy, following him to the elevator. The whole ride up is silent save for the soft lo-fi beat playing over the speakers. Jacob is still very shirtless, a towel tossed over his shoulder haphazardly. What was its purpose? Couldn’t tell you since there were still droplets of water decorating his back.

Good Lord, you needed to stop staring at him, lest you wanted to go into cardiac arrest.

Your feet padding against the carpeted flooring of the hallway is the only thing you can hear all the way to your room. You even watch sheepishly as he pulls out the keycard and holds it to the sensor. It quickly flashes green and he pushes open the door.

You’re too preoccupied gawking at his back muscles again to notice he’s stopped in his tracks, causing you to bump into him. He laughs that melodic laugh of his before turning around to steady you. You give him a weak smile in apology.

And then you see why he paused so abruptly.

“Oh no, there’s only one bed, what will we do now?”

You sputter at how nonchalant he is about the situation. You glance back and forth from him to the bed and repeat, sweat forming on your palms. It was already going to be hard enough just sleeping in the same room, now you had to sleep in the same bed? You wouldn’t be surprised if you were found dead tomorrow morning.

“W-We can talk to someone at the front desk? Maybe we can get things sorted out and get a room with two beds instead?” You avoid eye contact.

“It’s too late for that. Besides, we did book these at the last minute, so they probably gave us whatever they had available.” He shrugs. His attitude is kind of pissing you off. How could he be so calm right now?

“Well— uh— um— maybe—“ Your words falter as you struggle to come up with a solution. Jacob’s lips quirk up in amusement.

“Maybe you could use that mouth for more than just talking nonsense.”

You make a sound similar to choking, your eyes widening as you process what the hell he just said. You keep blinking at him, mouth parted in astonishment? Shock? Surprise? Bewilderment? Did Jacob Bae really just say that to you?

When you don’t respond for a bit of time, he heads to the bathroom to presumably shower. You’re glued to your spot, unable to move or think. Your head felt like it was hollow, full of cotton. You had to be imagining that entire interaction. That was the only thing that made sense.

Even as the water in the bathroom floods your ears, you’re still dazed. You drag yourself to sit on the edge of the bed, holding the back of your hand to your forehead. You were going insane. That was the logical explanation. Your feelings for Jacob had been stuffed away for so long that you were starting to hallucinate.

Yeah, that’s what you were going with.

You were much too delusional to handle seeing him come out of the bathroom, so you decided to change while he was in there and get ready for bed. You wanted to face the other direction to curve any possible chance of driving yourself crazier. You pull off the oversized t-shirt you were wearing over your swimsuit and dig through your duffle bag for some fresh clothes. You were grateful that you didn’t let your friends peer pressure you into actually swimming, your desire to keep a healthy distance between you and Jacob overpowering wanting to join in on the fun.

As you go to untie your swim top, the squeaky hinges of the bathroom door have you tripping over your own two feet. You didn’t exactly have the best reflexes either, so you fail at catching the strings before they can fall completely. At this point, you’re frozen. You’re planted face first on the floor, topless, with the boy you’ve been thirsting over for months just feet away.

Okay, so perhaps you underestimated how long it took him to shower.

“Y/N, are you— woah—”

“No, don’t come any closer!”

Of course you’re too late and he does not heed your warning. Jacob squats next to you and you can just feel his presence. To everyone else, it’s calming. He’s the person most people go to when they have any qualms about life. He was the definition of the therapist friend. However, that was not the case right now.

His presence was intimidating and your heart was hammering in your rib cage. It was practically beating against the floor. It wouldn’t be beyond you if they heard it in the lobby. You refuse to glance over at him. This couldn’t be happening. It was seriously one unfortunate event after another.

There’s a ghost-like, feather light touch that trails the length of your bare back, sending a shiver down your spine. Just like the first time, it’s like you’d been statically charged. It was as if Jacob Bae himself created electricity. A sigh leaves Jacob’s lips. “Can you look at me, pretty?”

This was something torn straight from one of your wildest dreams. His words, his actions, even the situation you were in. A singular bed that you’re forced to share. This could very well just be the universe’s way of finally giving you a win. Divine intervention did exist, after all.

A peek at Jacob’s form shows you that he’s in nothing but a towel, and it leaves little to the imagination. You swallow thickly. Your lack of cooperation has his patience wearing thin, so he takes matters into his own hands, holding himself up with said hands on either side of your head and straddling your waist.

You can feel him through his towel and the flimsy material of your swim bottoms. He’s hard, pressing into your ass like he’s the one who’s needed to have you in such a visceral way the past ten months. His sculpted chest rests on your back as he leans down, his lips coming beside your ear.

“Tell me you want me, tell me you want me as bad as I want you.” He breathes.

It’s enough motivation to flip yourself over despite being nude from the waist up. You don’t even care anymore, caution thrown into the wind. Your infatuation with Jacob Bae was already concerning, but now it was dangerous. You were getting extremely close to crossing the line you told yourself you’d never cross. But he made it so easy.

Your eyes rake his figure, from his chiseled torso that was handcrafted by the Gods to the way he unabashedly keeps his lower half pinned to yours. You almost salivate at how good this feels. But it’s not enough. You need him in ways that could only be described as carnal. You release a shaky breath when he experimentally grinds his hips.

He leans into you one more time, lips hovering your own and noses brushing. Just a few more centimeters. That’s all that it would take for him to kiss you, but he doesn’t. He flickers his eyes to yours and then back down, wetting his lips as he does so.

“Your eyes are already saying yes, now I just need your mouth to tell me the same.”

You could’ve just spoken the words out loud, but instead you close the gap between you. Your mouths fit together perfectly, like a missing puzzle piece finally reuniting with its set. They glide in synchrony, your fingers coming up to tangle in his hair and run along the expanse of his toned back. He groans when your nails graze his skin. You both part to gasp for air, lips swollen.

“That works too.”

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[charincharge]

I Don't Want To Wait, seventy-four

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

AN: Well, babes, this is it. The final effing chapter of IDWTW. When I started writing this, almost exactly four years ago (chapter 1 posted on may 29, 2020!), I had no idea what it would become. I thought it was going to be vv casual prompt-based high school pining vignettes, simply to rewrite my own version of Dawson’s Creek – if you’ve ever wondered why it was called IDWTW, that’s why! It was a temp title that stuck! – but 375k+ words later… it’s become so much more. And that is because of YOU. Whether you have been here since 2020 or you joined along the way or you're finding this years after the face, I am infinitely grateful. I don’t know that I would have been able to pull through the last few years without your kindness and enthusiasm for these two idiots (and their friends and fam). I have loved telling this story, but mostly, I’m grateful that this journey introduced me to so many incredible humans and created a community of babes I will hold near and dear to my heart for literally ever (it’s true, I loved one of you so much that I drove across the country to meet her, and in a few short months she will be my WIFE!). This story brought so much good into my life, and I am hella proud to finally conclude it. From the incredible creators who made fanart, to the essays of comments on each chapter, to the back and forth of discussing consent, sexuality, and reproductive rights in my inbox, every gif, comment, reblog, message, ask, and interaction of any kind has been a joy. Thank you.

With all of that said, let’s wrap this mother up.

A soft glowing circle lit up the black beneath Aelin’s feet. Her stomach tightened as she rested on one leg and hitched to the side in a slow exhale. Her breath centered her as she pulled her pointed toes up her calf until it extended into a slow and steady develope. Just as she had barely met the apex of her leg’s vertical reach, she exhaled again and twirled to the floor. The music cascaded over her as she continued to move, her muscles moving on autopilot into seamless choreography. She had beaten out several far more senior company members for this solo and had practiced it so many times that it lived within her, sure to remain there for the rest of time.  With each of her graceful steps, the spotlight followed her and swathed her in its golden column, as if she were being beamed up into the sky above. With how much lift she got in her leaps, she felt like she was, too. Finally, the bass came in signaling the end of her solo and for the rest of the company to join her on stage, but even as the spot widened until it cast a bright haze across the floor, the floor remained empty.

Confused, she looked into the wings, but all she saw was blackness, not even the barely there violet glow of the stage manager’s lamp. She was grateful for her muscle memory, as her limbs continued their practiced movements as her brain whirled in confusion and panic. She was mid-twirl when the music came to an abrupt stop, and she had to put her entire energy into not tumbling over her own foot. When she finally regained her balance, she looked up and around in confusion. The audience, which she’d thought was packed, was emptied out, only one solitary figure remained. Even barely lit and in silhouette, Aelin would recognize her mother’s haughty posture and signature bouffant. Her slow, delicate clap was a stark contrast to the thrumming pulse of Aelin’s heart pounding against her rib cage.

“Mom?” she breathed, barely a whisper but it still echoed through the empty theater.

“A child bride,” Evalin replied with disgust.

Aelin’s brow shot up. “H-how did you—?”

Evalin cut her off. “You thought you could steal my wedding dress from my closet, and I wouldn’t know about it?”

Aelin looked down in confusion, but sure enough, her recital clothes had transformed into the ivory strapless column sheath she used to admire as a small girl. Rhoe had kept their wedding photo in his bedroom long after Evalin left, only removing the photo when a young Aelin commented with a wistful sigh that she’d never seen Rhoe smile the way he did in the black and white snapshot. The dress was stunning in its simplicity, all clean lines and structured satin.

Her hands pressed against the fabric, as if knowing this wasn’t right, but unsure of the how or why. A soft tinkling laugh drifted across the room, and Aelin’s eyes darted to the noise, hopeful that someone had come to save her from this bizarre encounter and nearly collapsed in relief when Rowan’s shock of icy hair appeared in the doorway.

He looked as handsome as ever in his lacrosse jersey, a wide grin on his face and a giant trophy in his hands. Her smile matched his, realizing that he must have come here straight from his championship. Winning his championship.

“Rowan!” she called out, but he didn’t look up. Instead, he offered his free arm to the source of the tinkling laughter. A beautiful woman accepted his bicep and wrapped both her manicured hands around his forearm possessively. He leaned down and brushed his lips against the top of her head in a gesture so familiar that it physically hurt Aelin to watch. “Rowan?” she called out again, this time much quieter.

Evalin’s cruel bark of laughter was the only response she received. “You offered him everything, and it still wasn’t enough. You’ll never leave this small town. You really are your father’s daughter.”

“No,” Aelin told her mom emphatically. “NO!”

“Yes,” she said simply.

“NO!” Aelin screamed again as unwitting tears streamed down her cheeks, hot under the persisting spotlight. “R-rowan!” she choked out, but he couldn’t hear her, too enraptured by the woman in his arms, eyes — and ears, apparently — only for her. “Rowan!” she sobbed. She went to leap off the stage, but she was caught mid-air, her back hitting something with such a force that it knocked the wind of her.

“Ace?” Rowan’s voice was in her ear, his hand rubbing at her back as she gasped for air. She cracked her eyes open and sagged as she realized that she was safely wrapped in Rowan’s firm embrace. “Whoa, you’re okay.” His voice was a reassuring balm to her heart, which felt bloody and bruised.

“I’m okay,” she forced out, though it came out so shaky that Rowan pulled back to peer into her eyes. She wanted to avert her gaze, hopeful that he wouldn’t be able to see the panic that was still coursing through her body, but the dark green of his irises calmed her, so she stared and focused and thought of things that reminded her of the deep shade of Rowan’s eyes. Emeralds. Yulemas garlands. The long row of lockers in their gym room. Grass and trees in the setting summer sun. The jade plant that Maeve claimed brought her good luck that sat on her kitchen counter. Moss. Green tea leaves. The fake snake he’d placed in her bed every prank week. That knocked her out of her tranquil stupor, and she couldn’t help but frown at him.

“Yeah, you’re okay,” he said, but continued to rub circles into the tense space between her shoulder blades. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Aelin shrugged. “It was weird.” She paused for a long while, trying to think of how to tell him about it. “My dance showcase went off the rails?”

Her admission had its intended effect. He squeezed her tightly and kissed the soft spot of skin behind her ear. “Well, that’s silly, brain,” he said, letting his kisses trail up to the side of her temple. “You already crushed your showcase.”

She grinned in response. It was true. She had crushed the showcase, and Rowan had been there just as she’d dreamed in his jersey and trophy in hand. They’d gone into double overtime, and he’d barely made it to her opening solo. With seconds to spare, he’d slid into a seat in the front row, so she’d be sure to see him cheering her on. But she’d known it the whole time. She could feel his gaze on her as she twirled across the stage. The end of that performance had been, well… not the same as her brain had rewritten it. But, Rowan was right. Her brain was being silly.

“Maybe it’s just acting out because someone kept me up all night,” she said, loving the way that Rowan’s ears still turned pink.

“It’s not my fault,” Rowan said, but his blush said otherwise.

“Sure it’s not,” she said with a lascivious smile.

To celebrate their final week of high school, Aelin and Rowan had planned a movie marathon on Maeve’s rooftop. It included a trifecta of essential graduation movies: Can’t Hardly Wait, Booksmart, and Grease. But what she hadn’t realized was that Rowan wouldn’t be able to help himself from singing along. And he knew what his singing voice did to Aelin’s libido. She couldn’t help herself. Somewhere in the middle of Greased Lightning, the movies were all but forgotten as the pair tangled themselves in each other.

Stretching his limbs to the sky, Rowan looked like a literal god. The early morning sun cast a glow across his stern brow and strong nose, making him look as chiseled as a marble statue.

“If you keep that up, I’m taking you right back to bed,” he said of her lusty gaze and hooded eyes. He poked her side, eliciting a loud squeal.

“Whatever,” she laughed. “It’s not like we have anywhere to be today.”

It was true. Today was the last Monday of the year. AKA, senior skip day. And she’d purposefully not committed to joining anyone’s plans, so she and Rowan could extend their marathon if they wanted to – she also had High School Musical 3, She’s All That, and Dazed & Confused lined up — or just laze around all day. But they had time. Considering where the sun was, it was still very, very early. She imagined Maeve would be in the midst of morning service and briefly considered heading downstairs to grab them some coffee and croissants, but instead she laid back onto the mattress and fluffed a pillow beneath her head. Rowan followed, nuzzling onto her chest. She stroked his hair, not wanting to separate herself from him with the tendrils of her dream still lingering in her consciousness.

“Last week of senior year,” he said. “In three days we’ll be high school graduates. How do you feel?”

“Terrified,” Aelin said, the word blurting out before she could filter it back. Damn that coffee-free brain.

She could feel Rowan tense slightly, but he let her early morning admission slide, and she was grateful for it. “Mm, me too,” he agreed. “The lacrosse boys signed up to do a car wash for community service day, and I’m worried I’m going to see things I can’t unsee,” he said with a shudder.

Aelin couldn’t help but snort. While today was a skip day, tomorrow was a service day. Each senior had to do some sort of community service in order to graduate. Ridiculous. Not like they hadn’t all passed their classes already. She supposed the sentiment was nice, but as someone who’d been volunteering with the hospital for the last two years, it felt a bit shallow. Unauthentic. Forced, if you will. And the athletic teams always used it as an excuse to strip down to their skivvies and wash horny housewives’ cars for an exorbitant amount of money. At least it was better than the Boy Toy auction Lorcan had told them they’d finally outlawed because of the gross raunch factor.

“Just tell them to use a sponge and that their junk isn’t for rubbing against dirty cars,” Aelin advised. Rowan groaned loudly.

“Great, now I can never close my eyes again,” he whined.

“Are the cheerleaders also doing the car wash?” Aelin asked, definitely not thinking about her dream at all. But Rowan was definitely not going to let that comment slide. His head popped up, and she found herself ensconced in his shadow as he peered down at her with an accusatory glare.

“I think a few of them are,” he said. “But… you remember that I’m about to marry you, right?”

“A lot of married people cheat, Rowan,” she said, pushing him off. She hadn’t meant to be so pouty about it, but she couldn’t get the image of his arms wrapped around that dream woman out of her mind.

Rowan looked rightfully hurt, the corners of his mouth turned down and his brow furrowed as he stared her down. “You cannot be serious.” He knocked at her temple. “This has gone beyond your brain being silly. We are so many years beyond this. Do you have amnesia?” He knocked again. “Helloooo, Aelin, are you in there? Have you been possessed by the ghost of your past self?”

“Shut up,” she mumbled, pushing his hand away, but he persisted.

“No,” he said, pulling his pants from last night on. He searched for his shirt briefly, but unable to find it, he simply turned toward Aelin in stoic silence, arms crossed over his bare chest and face looking discontent. “I’m not going to let you say shit like that, Ace. That’s…” He pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. To be fair, she was exasperating. “That’s hurtful. To me. I know you’re scared about the future, but I thought we established that I’m in this with you.”

Aelin scrambled to her feet. “We did.”

“So…?”

He stood there, tapping his fingers against his bicep which was curled protectively around his torso still. Not letting her in. Waiting.

But she couldn’t explain it to him. That lingering nagging feeling of insecurity and worry and failure. So instead, she apologized. It wasn’t what he wanted, but it was good enough for now.

. . .

Instead of spending senior ditch day in bed, Aelin and Rowan joined their friends for a never ending picnic day in the park. Which wasn’t exactly what Aelin had wanted, but she had a feeling that she needed to loosen the reins on her panic, lest she piss him off even more. She had a feeling that maybe she’d loosened things too much, though, when she realized midway through her community service day that she hadn’t heard from Rowan in hours. She’d been helping the hospice section of the hospital, which was designated for those who needed round the clock medical care. Their rooms varied from being fully decked out with medical equipment and monitors to the one she was in, which simply had a low bed, a tv, and a chair. Not a monitor in sight. Had she not known the woman needed constant care and surveillance each time she rose from her chair to go to the bathroom, she would have thought she was in someone’s grandmother’s house. As the woman made her tenth trip to the bathroom, Aelin took out her phone. Just to peek. There was no text from Rowan, btu there was one from Dorian. It was a link to a TikTok with the side eye emoji, and she clicked it quickly.

She watched as washboard abs and pecs were drenched with soapy suds as they washed dirt-ridden cars. She bit her lip as Rowan came into view, his muscles rippling as he reached across the hood, his biceps flexing and unflexing with each wipe.

“Mmmmm,” Aelin’s elderly patient hummed appreciatively over her shoulder as she exited the bathroom and spotted the phone screen. She scrambled to put it back in her pocket, but her patient simply chuckled dryly as she snatched the phone into her wiry grasp. “A friend of yours?” she asked curiously, peering up from the screen where the video was replaying.

“Boyfriend,” Aelin admitted, her cheeks burning.

“Lucky girl,” the woman giggled, her hazel eyes alight with joy as she handed the phone back to Aelin where it made its way back into her pocket quickly. “What are you doing spending your time here with an old fuddy-duddy like me?” Aelin was about to protest, but the woman continued. “What’s his name?”

“Rowan,” she finally said as the woman wrapped herself in a thin blanket and tucked herself into her favorite upholstered rocking chair.

“Rowan,” she repeated back. “That’s a good name. A strong name. A reliable name.”

Aelin frowned. “Reliable?”

“Well, isn’t he?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Sturdy,” the woman continued. “In more ways than one. I can tell.”

Aelin gasped, chastising the woman for her forwardness but she simply laughed it off.

“You’re right,” she whispered, as if she were letting her in on a big secret.

“Go, get out of here,” the woman laughed.

“But I still have two more hours?” Aelin said of her unsigned sheet of volunteer paper, but the woman simply shook her head and beckoned for Aelin to come closer.

“I appreciate your service,” she rasped, “But I just want to nap, and it’d be a shame for you to watch me sleep for two hours. You’ll have the rest of your life to work,” she said signing and dating Aelin’s paper for two hours in the future. “You can fuck around for a few hours.”

Aelin gasped again at the profanity, but smiled regardless.

“Thanks,” she said, but the woman had already nodded off in her chair.

. . .

“Droooooool,” Lysandra laughed as she poked Aelin’s side and pulled her out of her skin-induced stupor.

“I—”

“Were staring?” Lys cackled, following Aelin’s eyeline to where Rowan was clad only in his old red lifeguard shorts. The backs of his thighs were exposed, the hem of the shorts riding up as he leaned down to clean the back bumper of a particularly dirty sedan. Unlike his teammates who were filming each other and tossing sponges back and forth, Rowan was focused on the task at hand, making sure that the car he was working on was well-cleaned. “I hate to interrupt your literal wet dream,” she continued, “But, I wanted to invite you to a party.”

Aelin grabbed the paper from Lysandra’s hands and looked down at it.

“You’re having a party?” Aelin asked, surprised by the idea of her sober friend having the graduation rager she’d always wanted to throw.

“It’s gonna have booze,” Lys said, “But… I will not be partaking.” She cleared her throat. “I know that this year is not at all what I imagined, but I finally feel like I’m okay, and I would feel like shit if I didn’t throw the graduation party of the century.” She flicked her brown curls over her shoulder. “Just because I’m sober doesn’t mean I can’t party.”

“Certainly not,” Aelin agreed. She looked at her friend who’d been through the wringer and spit out again and had come out seemingly unscathed and couldn’t help but wonder… “Hey, Lys?” she asked before her friend could move to the next person. Lysandra looked up, eyes curious. “Do your parents know you’re having this party?”

If Lysandra was surprised by the question, she didn’t show it. Instead, she half shook her head and half shrugged. “No.”

“Should I be worried about that?” she asked, but to that, Lys gave a hard head shake.

“No.”

“But you haven’t reconciled with them?” Aelin didn’t know why she was asking these questions, but at the same time, the answers seemed all too important.

“It’s hard to reconcile with someone who doesn’t care,” Lysandra finally said. “But, I will say that I’ve let it go.” She cleared her throat. “The needing them to care.” She smiled then, a small curve but Aelin saw it regardless. “I wanted them to care for so long,” she admitted. “For too long, probably. So I acted out. A lot. Willing them to pay attention, at the very least. But you can’t will someone to care, even your parents,” she laughed softly. “And I’ve been through enough therapy now that I’m starting to realize that as much as that hurts, it’s okay.” She paused. “I don’t need them to care. Because I care enough for all of us. And I realized there are a lot of people out there who care, too.” She paused, looking at Aelin, as if trying to cut through the bullshit and tell Aelin exactly what she wanted to hear, and in that moment… she did. “Does that make sense?”

Aelin nodded. “It does.”

Lysandra tapped the paper in her hands. “Immediately after graduation, and we’ll go all night. Bring your bathing suit,” she said.

“Will do,” Aelin laughed, but she couldn’t help but let her mind wander to Lysandra’s words. Her friend had laid it out plainly for her. What she’d been afraid to admit all along. That she maybe really seriously actually needed to go to therapy. The wounds her mom had imparted on her psyche ran deeper than she knew how to deal with. If her dream was any indication, her mom still controlled some part of her identity, and she needed to release that. Because that had nothing to do with who she was as a human. Not at all.

After the dream, she had thought that maybe she needed to call her mom and let her hear her thoughts, but Lys was right in her assessment: it was impossible to control someone else’s feelings. Even your mom’s. Yes, she wanted her mom to love her and want the best for her, but truly, her mom barely knew her. All Evalin knew was propriety and etiquette and history. She didn’t know that her favorite color was green, like Rowan’s eyes. She didn’t know that her favorite food was Maeve’s chocolate cake. She didn’t know that she was thinking about a career in medicine and how much she loved helping people. And she certainly didn’t know that Aelin wanted at least five kids and to make sure that every single one of them felt loved and adored by both their parents. No. She couldn’t make Evalin care, or pay attention long enough to even try to care. And she had to let that go. It would take a lot of work, but she had to.

With that in mind, she called out Rowan’s name, followed by a whoop and a loud expletive. His answering blush and crooked finger, beckoning her to wrap herself in his half-naked embrace was all she needed to know that she’d been forgiven. But she knew she had to explain anyway. He let his teammates know that he would be back in a minute and let Aelin pull him away from the long line of cars still waiting to be washed.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, tilting her head upwards where he loomed over her. He softly kissed the top of her head, warming her even more than the mid-afternoon sun. “I could say I don’t what came over me yesterday, but… that’d be a lie,” Aelin continued.

He squeezed her side in response, not interrupting her but acknowledging that he was listening and waiting.

“Did you know that the morning of my sixteenth birthday I woke up and resolved that I would kiss you that year?” she asked, and he barked out a confused laugh.

“Um, what?”

“I was so determined to do it, too. And do you know why?” she asked as she let her hands trace small circles into the soft skin of his back.

“Because you knew you wanted to be with me forever and ever and that we’re perfect together and meant to be and we’re each other’s soul mates and other halves and one of us just needed to make a move?”

Aelin snorted loudly. “No,” she laughed, screwing up her face. “Not at all.”

Rowan’s forehead wrinkled as his brow transformed into a deep furrow. Clearly her words weren’t at all what he expected to hear. But, she knew she needed to get this out.

“When I thought about why I wanted to kiss you so badly, I realized that it was a test. If I kissed you and blew up our entire friendship, then I’d be right about everything I thought about myself. That you could never love me as much as I loved you. And so obviously you’d leave. Because everyone leaves.”

Rowan’s grasp tightened around her waist, locking her against his chest. “But I’m still here.”

“You are.” She paused, finally letting the words come to the surface. “I think…” She shook her head. That wasn’t the right start at all. “I know… that my mom deeply screwed me up.” She took another deep breath. “And watching you get recruited and this whole college limbo thing has made it so much worse. Because every day it feels like I’m just waiting for you to get up and realize that you’ve outgrown me. But you haven’t done anything to make me feel like that at all. And so, I’m really sorry. My issues are my own, and I’m going to work on them.”

“Thank you,” he said. “For the apology, and for letting me know what’s going on in there.” His fingers tucked under the hem of her shirt and matched the circles she was placing on his back. “I’ll try and remember all of that when you inevitably freak out again, but I look forward to proving you wrong every day for the rest of our lives. Because I’ve said it a few hundred times before, but I’ll keep saying it until you believe it: you’re stuck with me. Forever.”

“Forever,” she echoed back.

“Whitethorn,” a rough voice called out. “We need you back!”

In his absence, the line of cars had somehow grown impossibly longer. “Looks like you’ve got work to do,” she said, raising her brow.

“Will I see you later?” he asked, and Aelin couldn’t help but scoff.

“Oh, you thought I was leaving?” she laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m going to snag a prime spot for ogling and then maybe we can hop into the jeep when you’re finished.”

“Really?” he laughed. “Even smelling like sweat and sunscreen?”

“Ohhhhh yes,” she said, practically drooling as he let her hands climb up the ridges of his defined abs. “That’s even better.”

He responded with a deep kiss that set her body ablaze, tingling from head to toe, that was interrupted by more panicked calls from his teammates. After prying himself away, Aelin found a spot on a nearby bench, giving her the perfect view to fawn over half-naked and half-wet Rowan for the next few hours.

. . .

The next morning, Aelin was awoken much too early. She was pulled from her easy slumber with a dance remix of Pomp & Circumstance coming from her phone alarm. What the hell? As she slapped at the table next to her, attempting to turn off the too-loud music in vain, she felt her dad’s hand cover hers and lead it to the offending object.

“Congrats, graduate,” Rhoe’s warm voice lilted as he gently rubbed at her shoulder.

“Dadddd,” she groaned as she attempted to put her pillow over her head. Now that that music was off she could go back to sleep. Or so she thought. She should have known better than to play tug of war with a man who could bench press and carry three times her weight. Rhoe’s soft laughter was a stark contrast to the forceful way he wrenched the pillow away. She managed to keep it within her grasp, but Rhoe’s strength kept it locked at a significant distance from her face. She tried to pull it closer, but Rhoe wasn’t letting that happen. She guessed it was time to wake up, per Rhoe’s request.

Defeated, Aelin let her fingers drop from the pillow, and finally cracked an eye open. Behind her dad’s head was a swath of green and gold, and she focused she could see that nearly ever inch of the room had been filled with balloons.

“Happy last day of high school,” her dad said with a too-wide smile given the early hour. When she opened her other eye, his smile widened even further, showing off two deep dimples that she recognized from her own reflection.

“It’d be happier if I could sleep more,” Aelin grumbled, but it wasn’t with any real mirth. Hung on the outside of her closet door, Rhoe had steamed her deep emerald graduation robe.

“I have one more day left with my high school student, and I plan on making every second count,” Rhoe said, causing Aelin to smile in reply.

“Tyrant,” she laughed. But she was grateful.

After allowing her to get ready, the pair made their way to Maeve’s, where she’d saved a two top for them by the window. Within seconds of sitting, a large hazelnut coffee and platter of stuffed French toast and bacon appeared in front of her. Yes, being in a small town was sometimes annoying – but no matter where she and Rowan went in the world, she knew a plate of Maeve’s home cooking would be waiting for her when she came back.

She and Rhoe enjoyed a lazy brunch, ordering second and third cups of coffee.

“Fourth?” Rowan asked, coming around with the coffee pot.

“If I have any more coffee I’ll be peeing every twenty minutes for the rest of the day,” she laughed, shoving him away. Though he hadn’t been able to join them for their breakfast because he was helping train a new staff member for Maeve, he’d dropped a soft kiss on her cheek every time he’d passed by their table. Which. Was a perfect way to enjoy her day. They’d planned to have a celebratory brunch the four of them, since they’d all be going to Lysandra’s (family inclusive!) graduation party following their graduation ceremony, but having it just be Rhoe and Aelin felt right, too.  

“As if you don’t do that already,” Rhoe scoffed. “I’m half expecting you to hop off the graduation stage as soon as they hand you your degree to take a pee break.”

“Dad!” she said, cheeks blooming with redness. Yes, she had brought up peeing first, but she couldn’t believe her dad would talk about her like that in front of Rowan.

“Please,” Rowan laughed. “As if I don’t know about your tiny bladder.”

“You’re both the worst,” she grumbled. “Can we talk about something else besides my pee schedule?”

“Yes, I wanted to ask what you’re wearing under your gown today,” he said before his brain caught up to what he said. “Not in a sexy way!” he said, blush raging as Rhoe raised a pointed brow in his direction. It’d been a while since she saw Rowan look so flustered under Rhoe’s gaze, and she forgot how amusing it was. “So we can coordinate,” he finally said. “For photos.”

“Not in a sexy way,” Rhoe muttered to himself. Something akin to a wheeze came out of Rowan’s mouth as he tried to correct himself again, but Aelin thought it was time to put him out of his misery.

“You can wear whatever you want,” she said. “Because I’ll be wearing a white dress.”

Rowan’s widened eyes darted to Rhoe and then back to her, and she didn’t miss the way his throat bobbed with a nervous gulp.

“A white dress?” he croaked.

“Mhm,” she said. “So anything you wear will go with it.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Speaking of,” Rhoe said, clapping his hands loudly and breaking them from their joint reverie. “We should head out so you can start getting ready.”

Aelin rolled her eyes, knowing that her dad was teasing her about how long it took her to get ready, but as she glanced at the time she realized he wasn’t entirely wrong. They had been so caught up in their lengthy breakfast that it was now well after noon.

With a small kiss, she told Rowan she’d see him out on the lacrosse field in a few hours. Unfortunately, Galathynius and Whitethorn were annoyingly far apart in their grade lineup, so she wouldn’t see him for real until after the ceremony. But all he did was send her away with a smile and a kiss.

“Can’t wait,” he said.

. . .

Of course they were graduating on the hottest day of the year. Though the weather forecast had predicted partly sunny skies and balmy breezes, instead they received a cloudless sky, still and relentlessly hot beneath the beatific sun. The thick polyester robe in dark emerald green created a tent of heat around her, and she could feel every inch of her skin beading with sweat beneath it. She hoped when she took off the gown she still looked somewhat presentable, otherwise her hours of preparation would be for naught.

True to her dad’s prediction, Aelin had taken a while to get ready, shaving her legs thoroughly and straightening each strand of her long blonde locks. Of course, beneath her cap and combined with the thick humidity, her hair was beginning to show its natural wavy texture again. And she had a feeling that as soon as her cap was off, she’d be pulling her tresses into a giant pile on top of her head, pictures be damned. Luckily, she’d sprayed her face with a few layers of setting spray so no matter how much she sweat, her winged eyeliner and flawless complexion weren’t budging.

Beside her, Dorian swiped a bead of sweat that had fallen down his temple. Not even his mop of thick curls was enough to prevent the amounts of sweat from cascading down his cheeks and neck.

“If this speaker doesn’t hurry up, we’re going to boil alive,” he whispered as their graduation speaker drolled on. The man was supposed to be inspiring — he was an author turned executive, but his slow talking pace seemed to be getting slower with each word. Not only that, but each word seemed to be the same tone with no inflection, and Aelin was worried all of them were going to fall asleep before their names were called. Maybe she’d be more inclined to listen to his words of wisdom if the hundreds of them weren’t swimming in pools of their own sweat.

Somewhere in her musings, she heard a round of applause, signaling the end of the speech. Thank god.

The next speaker was their class valedictorian, slash Prom Queen. None other than Elide.

“On behalf of the Seniors, I’d like to take a moment to thank everyone who has been a part of our success,” she began. “The last four years have been filled with bumps in the road, and it hasn’t been easy. But our success is a direct result of everything you’ve given us. Your care and belief in us and faith when we doubted ourselves have been integral in our quest for knowledge. That includes our teachers, who taught us not only school lessons but lessons in life. Our parents and families, who have been there since the beginning. And the families we’ve created along the way.” She paused, searching for a face in the audience, smiling widely when she found her teal-haired girlfriend smiling back at her. “The bond that links us isn’t one of blood. It’s forged in joy and tears and friendship and respect,” Elide’s eyes found Aelin’s at that moment, and she couldn’t help but smile at her friend. “And no matter where this crazy life takes us beyond today, we will always take this place with us. Because home isn’t just a place. It’s a feeling, it’s a light in the darkness. It’s hope. And so, to the Orynth High senior class, I say, as we forge new paths for ourselves, may we never forget home.” She cleared her throat and smiled widely. “Let’s hold onto the memories and camaraderie and picture-perfect moments, for they made us who we are. Congratulations… we did it!”

The whole class whooped and hollered and clapped wildly, none more so than Manon, who beamed up at her girlfriend from the front row.

And just like that, it was time.

Aelin held her breath as Principal Havillard took the podium and started calling out their names. Her heart raced as her row stood, waiting to take the stage. Her nerves were momentarily squashed as Manon made a lewd gesture with her tongue between her fingers after accepting her diploma. She watched as Lysandra proudly plucked the degree and held it over her head. She knew her friend hadn’t been sure she’d be able to graduate, and it was a relief to hear her name.

Before she could process anything else, she was walking up the stairs and hearing her name being called out. “Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.”

She nearly tripped over her own feet at the chorus of shouting that came from the back of the chairs. She looked over at where Rhoe and Lorcan were shouting wildly and realized that they were accompanied by the entire fire squad. Aelin’s breath caught in her throat at the display of raucous hooting and hollering. These people who had known her since she was a child had come to cheer for her and see her graduate. She had not anticipated that at all. And she found herself completely overwhelmed.

Beside the squad, Maeve cheered, and on the other side of the chairs, down by the W’s, Chaol and Rowan stood and shouted with hands on either side of their mouths. A thrill of love and support rushed through her. She couldn’t believe how many people were here for her.

She grabbed the diploma from Principal Havillard’s hands and raised it into the air, causing the cheering to explode again. She stuck out her tongue and crossed her eyes, making a silly face in the direction of her family.

Elide’s words rang in her ears. Her family. The squad, her dad, Lorcan, Maeve, her friends, and of course, Rowan. That vast group was more support than most people got in their lifetime. She’d never forget that.

She made her way back to her seat, laughing as Dorian flipped off his father and then booked it away from him, cackling wildly. Always a troublemaker, that one. And finally, after what seemed like forever, it was Rowan’s turn.

“Rowan Eugene Whitethorn.”

Aelin shot up from her chair, screaming as loud as she could, and despite being many rows back, she could feel Rowan’s eyes lock with hers. His lopsided grin was just for her, and she felt a thrill of joy run up her spine at the look.

“I love you,” she mouthed to him, causing his grin to widen.

“And with that,” Principal Havillard concluded. “I give you the senior class. Congratulations, graduates!”

Aelin stood and joined in the cheering again, her voice starting to go hoarse with the efforts of her support. They did it.

. . .

“Congratulations, Fireheart,” Rhoe said, throwing his arms around Aelin. Despite the heat, she welcomed his embrace.

When he pulled back, she noticed a large bouquet of her favorite flowers in his hand. He held them out to her, the red and orange flowers flickering like a live fire beneath the late afternoon sun.

“Thanks, Dad,” she said, suddenly feeling emotional.

“I’m so proud of you,” he said, and she could tell that despite his dry cheeks, he’d been crying. “And I love you so much.”

She hugged him again, pulling him tight and not letting go for a long while. After they parted, Aelin was passed around for hugs to the entire squad, each one of them telling her a story of something she did when she was a small girl hanging out at the station, imbuing her with joyful memories.

Then it was Maeve’s turn, who didn’t hold back her tears at all. Fat blobs rolled down her face, and she didn’t both to move them away, seeing as they were coming in a steady stream.

“Oh, hon, I’m so proud of you,” she said as she practically squeezed the life out of Aelin. She was grateful she’d unzipped her graduation robe, otherwise she was sure she would have passed out from heat stroke by now.

“And what about me?” Rowan low voice interjected. Maeve burst into a fresh round of sobs as she pulled him close.

She blubbered into his shoulder about how proud she was of him, of both of them, of all their achievements and how grown up they were, and Aelin could feel her heart expanding. It felt like she was going to burst wide open.

By the time everyone had said their piece, the field had mostly emptied out. Aelin heard a soft ripple of groans as a few of the firefighters took out their pagers.

“Fire?” Aelin asked as she peeled the sweaty gown from her shoulders.

Rhoe shook his head. “Worse. Graduation pranks abound, apparently.”

Aelin laughed, understanding that her dad was probably in for a long night of nonsense work.

“So I shouldn’t expect you at Lysandra’s?”

Rhoe shook his head. “You don’t want your old man crashing anyway.” He narrowed his eyes at her, as if he was blinking back more tears and sniffed loudly. “Have fun. You deserve it.”

“I will,” Aelin said, hugging her dad one more time. As he left her with a wave, she looked around for Rowan, who was standing just a few feet away, talking with Maeve. She took a deep breath and lifted her chin.

“Hey, you” he said, offering his arm out to her with a wide smile. She leaned into his side and took a deep breath, letting her happiness flow through her.

A flash went off in their face, and Aelin knew that whatever moment Maeve had just captured that she’d be framing it.

“You ready?” she asked, and his smile widened.

“You headed to Lysandra’s?” Maeve asked, completely unaware of the real conversation happening between the two of them.

Rowan nodded. “Do you want to meet us there?” he asked Maeve, but she shook her head and waved them off. Apparently she had a big night of dinner service ahead of her, but she sent them off with a joint hug and another tearful smile.

And just like that, it was time.

. . .

 In the days, months, and years that followed, whenever Aelin was asked about her wedding, she would say that it went by so quickly that she couldn’t remember it, and that was mostly true.

From the time the pair entered city hall to when they exited, a total of maybe ten minutes had passed. There was no aisle to walk down, no verbose exchanging of vows, no romantic readings or passages, but it was perfect nonetheless.

Aelin clasped her bouquet of kingsflames in one hand and Rowan’s hand in another, letting her skirt swish as she swayed back and forth. She had no idea what words the city official said. All she remembered was the brightness in Rowan’s eyes as they stared down at her and the way he kissed her when they’d been pronounced husband and wife.

As they made their way back to his car, Aelin was giddy. They rolled the windows down, letting the cooler air whip through the jeep, a wild giggle bubbling up in her throat and fizzing like champagne with each second that passed. Delicious and lightheaded inducing.

They had done it. They’d actually gotten married.

She looked over at Rowan, who was already staring back at her, a soft dreamy smile on his face. She couldn’t help but grin wider at him, laughing again as his smile pressed against hers. She loved when they kissed like this – a smashing of two smiles that wasn’t quite a kiss at all.

The stress that they’d felt over the last however many weeks, months, years, wasn’t present at all in his posture. She glanced down at his hands poised on the steering wheel, his fingers curling around the black leather in a loose grasp and tapping along to some silent tune in his head. The late afternoon sun filtered through the window casting him in a glow that made him look like a bronzed god, and Aelin sighed happily. This man was all hers. Forever.

FOREVER.

She’d always known their lives would be intertwined, but to actually make it official was something else. The light turned green and the car lurched forward as he pressed on the gas and began driving again. But the adrenaline surging through her was too much. She couldn’t just sit in this passenger seat, she needed to do something.

“Pull over,” she said, eyes flashing at their surroundings.

“Huh?” Rowan’s head whipped toward hers, confused.

“Pull over!” she said again, louder this time. Verging on panic.  

Rowan’s relaxed posture immediately reversed, the thick corded muscles of his shoulders and neck tensing as he looked for a spot to pull over.

“There!” she said, her pulse racing wildly.

Up ahead was the empty parking lot of the library. Though it was usually sparse there, there was not a car in sight, and Rowan wasted no time swerving into the lot and putting his hands on Aelin’s shoulders, examining her up and down.

“Are you okay?” he asked, green eyes taking in every detail of her body as if searching for a gaping wound or sudden injury.

“I’m perfect,” she replied. And she was. She was elated. Running on adrenaline and joy.

To calm her suddenly worried boyfriend — no, husband — down, she placed her hands on both his cheeks and kissed his mouth in a soft, sweet kiss.

“Keep the car running,” she said, picking up Rowan’s phone where it was plugged into the car and adding a song to his Spotify queue.

“What are you doing, Ace?” Rowan sighed, exasperated with her antics. Panic was nowhere to be seen anymore in his posture, only annoyance. Which only made her smile wider. As the first notes of the song came onto the stereo, she cranked up the volume and hopped out of the car. She smiled up at the sky, swaying to the beat, basking in the first signs of sunset and pink tinged clouds overhead.

To his credit, Rowan didn’t ask any more questions. He simply followed her lead and exited the jeep.

“Husband,” Aelin said, offering out her hand. “May I have this dance?”

Rowan’s returning smile was so large she thought it might crack his whole face. Gods, he was gorgeous.

He pulled her close, swaying with her as their song played. “I can’t believe our first dance is to Dancing In The Moonlight,” he chuckled.

“We wouldn’t be us if it weren’t,” she said, leaning into his chest as his arms circled her waist and pulled her close.

And though the song was upbeat, they stayed embraced and tangled up in each other, slowly swaying, chest to chest, hearts beating in rapid tandem with the beat of the song. They were so wrapped up in each other that Aelin barely noticed the sun disappearing behind an ominously dark cloud until a large raindrop plopped onto her nose.

And another.

And another.

She thought they would run back into the car and seek shelter, but neither of them made a move. In fact, the rain just seemed to invigorate them. Rowan stared up at the sky and laughed, Aelin following right after him. He lifted his hand and spun her in a circle, both of them laughing with reckless abandon as Aelin’s skirt flared out around them. He spun her again and this time ended his flourish with a dip, kissing her deeply.

Time seemed to cease to exist as they danced. Under the raining sky they became a mess of water-drenched spinning, laughing, kissing, and singing.

The skies continued to pour, until they were both soaked through. But as the last notes of the song played, their little magic bubble disappeared.

Aelin looked at Rowan and then back at her white dress, which was now dripping.

“Omg I look like a drowned rat!” she shouted through the rain.

Rowan laughed, pulling her back into the jeep and grabbing a towel from his back seat to dry his own hair off before sliding into the driver’s seat.

“But a very cute rat,” he said, causing them both to burst into laughter once again as they took off toward their graduation party.

By the time they arrived at Lysandra’s, they were still water-logged, giggling messes. Lys gasped at their disheveled appearance, eyeing them up and down with a wary eye.

“Ummm, no,” she said.

“No?” Aelin laughed, feeling drunk on endorphins.

Lysandra’s wary eye morphed into a blinding smile at the pair of them. “Get out of here and go celebrate on your own,” she laughed. “And congratulations,” she whispered.

“For graduating…?” Aelin asked, and Lysandra couldn’t help but snort loudly.

“Babe, you’re wearing a white dress and a shit-eating grin.” She paused. “I’m happy for you.”

She embraced the pair of them. “Now get out of here before anyone sees you.”

Aelin and Rowan didn’t need any more prompting. Apparently they were not subtle enough to pull off seeing other people right now.

“Where to?” Aelin asked Rowan as they slid back into the car.

Rowan smiled back at her. “Anywhere we want.”

“Let’s go,” she said.

And with that, they hit the road. Overwhelmed from the day, Aelin promptly fell asleep in the passenger seat, letting the feel of the car lull her into a dreamless sleep.

. . .

“Aceeee,” Rowan whispered, pulling her from her slumber. It was completely dark outside and the pair were stopped at a gas station slash motel. “You gotta get out of the car and then you can go right back to sleep,” he said softly.

“I’m awake,” she mumbled through a wide yawn. “Where are we?”

Rowan chuckled as she practically poured out of the car into his arms. She hadn’t realized how exhausted she truly was until after they’d checked into the motel, which was surprisingly not seedy, and she was sitting back on the bed. Her dress wasn’t wet anymore, but it certainly wasn’t going to be comfortable to sleep in. She wished they’d thought to prepare better for this sudden excursion. Of course, Rowan had.

“I picked up some essentials at a rest stop,” Rowan said, as if reading her mind. He pulled out an oversized tee that read “Geck Yo Act Together,” with a large picture of a gecko on it and tossed it to her, along with a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a little thing of mouthwash. He also pulled out giant sandwiches and chips and bottles of water and a Terrasen mountains tee for himself.

“Smart,” Aelin laughed, realizing the last time she ate was her (albeit giant) brunch, hours ago. “Is that where we are?” she asked, realizing she had no idea where they were.

“No,” he said, grinning softly. “I thought maybe we’d drive south. Explore for a while.”

“Is this our honeymoon?” Aelin laughed, looking around the small, dingy motel room. It wasn’t exactly what she’d imagined, but she also had never imagined getting married at eighteen.

“You told me you wanted to find the continent’s best chocolate piece of cake,” he said, and she couldn’t help but bark out a loud laugh.

“That could take weeks!”

“You got somewhere to be?” he asked, brow raised. And she loved the way his smile promised devious, devious things. And suddenly, she wasn’t so tired anymore.  

“I also got one more thing,” he said. She watched as he pulled a thick gold band out of his pocket, and she suddenly couldn’t breathe. He sat on the bed beside her and slid it onto her finger and her heart nearly stopped as he pulled another to slide onto his own. They were practically matching, except while a red stone sat in the middle of her ring, a dark green one that matched the shade of his eyes sat on his.

“Oh,” she said, her throat feeling remarkably dry. She tried to swallow, but it was too rough. A lump in her throat that wouldn’t abate. She tried again as she stared at the ring on her finger, her heart pounding as the red stone flickered in the dim motel room lighting. Why couldn’t she swallow?

“It’s just temporary,” Rowan rushed out, mistaking her silence as dislike. “The rest stop had a pawn shop, and I just knew we needed them, but they’re just for now…”

She cut him off with a swift and forceful kiss. “They’re perfect.”

“Hey, where’s my phone?” she asked. “I need to take a picture of this immediately.”

“I plugged it in,” he said, pointing to where he’d already set up a little charging station.

She picked it up, intending to take a picture of her ring, but an alert from literal hours ago disrupted that. She couldn’t believe it. An email in her inbox that read: Wendlyn University Admissions Update. Oh gods.

Without another word, she clicked into the email, heart pounding. Her eyes skimmed quickly, hoping to get the band-aid ripped off quickly, but she paused on the word CONGRATULATIONS.

“Oh my god. OH MY GOD!” she screamed, throwing the phone at Rowan. He picked up the phone and smiled widely, whooping and wrapping her into a bear hug so tight she couldn’t breathe.

“You did it,” he mumbled through kisses. “I knew you were going to do it.”

Unable to control themselves, their kisses increased, heating up wildly until his kisses seared through her, worshipping each inch of her skin. She was breathing hard as he peeled her out of her dress and pushed her onto the bed and continued to whisper adorations and plans of their future. How proud of her he was, and how he was never going to let her forget it. She shivered as he let his mouth skimmed against her, and she promised in that moment to never take him or his love for granted. This is why she didn’t need handwritten wedding vows — because they vowed to each other all the time with a simple kiss. And more than kisses. They brought each other to orgasm again and again, until they were both sweaty and spent and shaking with pleasure. They both poured every ounce of joy and relief into their intertwining bodies, finding their own perfect rhythm, until long after they should have gone to sleep. But neither wanted this magical day to end.

He was twirling the ring around her finger when Aelin remembered that she hadn’t taken a picture of it yet. She reached for her phone and started at a text from her dad, which just said: Checking in.

“Oh my god,” Aelin said again, bolting upright.

But Rowan just chuckled sleepily, reaching out with one of his hands to squeeze her bare backside. “Yeah, baby. Oh my god. You’re incredible.”

“NO, ROWAN,” she said smacking his shoulder. “What were we thinking? We got married! And then left home without telling anyone?” She actually couldn’t believe she had done that. What was she supposed to write back to her dad? “Rhoe is going to KILL ME,” she said, finally realizing what had occurred over the last twelve hours. “No, wait. He’s going to kill YOU! He’s going to arrest you for kidnapping his only daughter!”

At that Rowan really did laugh and pulled her back down into his embrace. “Ace, are you serious?” his laughter poured over her, silky smooth. “You think I would marry you and take you out of state without explicitly asking your father for permission and telling him our plans?”

Aelin’s eyes widened as she looked at Rowan with serious eyes. “He knew?”

Rowan kissed her shoulder and mumbled a soft, “Go to sleep. I’ll tell you everything in the morning.”

She paused. “You made a plan, but didn’t think to pack a bag for me?”

He chuckled again, pulling her tighter against his side. “I did pack a bag for you,” he said. ”I just forgot toothpaste and a nightshirt,” he said, his lips loosening as sleep threatened to take him over. “You didn’t need it, though.” And with that, he was asleep.

“I love you, too,” she replied, pushing his hair from his eyes and loving the way he smiled at her touch, even asleep. Unable to help herself, she laced her fingers through his and snapped a quick pic of their intertwined hands before sending it off to her dad. As she rested the phone down and closed her eyes, she felt ready for the next chapter. Except, it wasn’t really a chapter, she guessed. It was the rest of her life. A new book she was writing. She didn’t know what it would entail, but she knew that she couldn’t wait.

THE END

[riality-check]

Steve feels something hit his legs and clatter to the floor. He doesn't look at whatever hit him; he looks at Eddie, across the room.

"Did you just throw something at me?"

"No," Eddie lies, arm still extended.

Steve rolls his eyes at him, then looks down at the floor, where two drum sticks are laying at his feet. "What-"

"Outside," Eddie says, and he doesn't even wait for Steve to get up before he starts running for the door.

Steve sighs, but he picks up the sticks and follows, admittedly at a slower pace.

Outside is cold as shit. The wind blows Steve a little sideways, but Eddie doesn't seem bothered. He stands, arms out, showing off the open back doors of his van.

The entire back seat is occupied by a drum kit. It's cramped as hell, but Steve thinks there's a little stool wedged in there and just enough room for a person.

"Eddie, what-"

"Tell me if i'm going too far," Eddie says, "but you mentioned wanting to pick up something new, and I figured this might be okay."

Steve doesn't know how to say thank you to that, so he says, "Gareth is gonna kill you."

"Nah," Eddie says with a smile. "I’ve borrowed the set before. He knows where it is."

"I don't know how to play drums."

"Neither do I," Eddie says. "Let's figure it out."

He bows dramatically, prompting Steve to enter the van. He does so with a light shove on Eddie's shoulder.

He almost bangs his head on the roof, but eventually he gets situated in the midst of all the drums.

He's not sure where to start. He ignores his hands shaking.

Because that’s a thing they do now. They shake all the time, anywhere from a little rattle to a tremor so bad he can’t hold anything.

Steve hates it. He balls his hands into fits and takes a deep breath.

"Now, I've never actually played," Eddie says, sitting on the edge of the van floor, facing Steve. "But I’ve watched Gareth enough. Start with the bass drum, the one by your foot."

Steve tentatively steps on the pedal. It makes a soft thud. He does it again and again, starting up a steady beat.

"Good," Eddie says, and his enthusiasm for something so simple is so contagious, Steve can't help but smile. "If you want to use your other foot, you can step on the high hat. It should be to your left.”

Steve keeps his right foot going on the bass and his left starts a dun dun-dun, dun dun-dun on the high hat. He looks at eddie, who's got his eyes closed and is humming something.

Eddie cracks his eyes open. "Sorry, force of habit. Just thinking about a guitar part for this."

Steve laughs. Of course he is.

"You can do whatever with the sticks," Eddie says. "Just do what sounds right. You’re not gonna break the drums, not if you don't try to."

Steve takes a breath and tries.

It's hard, trying to keep everything going at once. He steps off the high hat and focuses on keeping the bass drum going in time with his sticks.

Eddie calls out rhythms for him to try, and Steve does his best to parrot them. His hands are still shaking, but the stutter they make on the drums sounds cool.

It sounds unique. It sounds good.

He definitely isn't holding the sticks right. It doesn't matter.

When he feels brave, he tries out a solo. He just goes, not caring about the rhythms at all, just doing what feels good. It’s loud and he can't think, he just goes and goes and goes until his head is just sticks and cymbals.

When he's done, he's panting for breath, and Eddie is smiling at him like he hung the moon and stars.

"I think you need your own set, Stevie," he says.

Steve thinks so, too.

[sexygaywizard]

Gonna go on a rant that will matter to precisely no one but me but I find it so annoying these "range tests" meant to determine what your voice type is, if you're a bass/baritone/contralto/soprano etc etc it's like the armchair psychology equivalent of vocal classification. "I can sing E3-E6 so what voice type am I?" "You must be a soprano because you can sing high" THat's NOT how it WOrKS... FIRST OF ALL.... ok... Your voice type for solo voice is not determined by your range it is determined by your vocal quality RELATIVE to your range. What is your comfortable singing range is comparatively more useful for classifying choral voice types (Soprano/Alto/Tenor/Bass) because you will be singing with a bunch of other people for long periods of time so you don't necessarily need to be singing in a range that brings out your strongest solo capabilities. You need to prioritize the range that is best for your endurance. But if you ever look up "what's the most common voice type" you're going to see everyone saying mezzo-sopranos even though every opera house in the entire world will tell you that by far the most heavily impacted voice type are lyric sopranos. This is because, if you pull any untrained girlie off the street, yeah, they're most likely going to have a middling range. Does that mean she's a mezzo? NO! Of course range is taken into account when classifying, but along with range is the location of your tessitura (most comfortable/clearest/powerful part of your range) and your passagio (the boundary between your low and high registers). Your vocal range can change over time and with practice, but your tessitura and passagio will probably not. These kinds of things cannot be determined without the assistance of a qualified vocal teacher, not to mention that even a vocal teacher will probably not be able to fully & accurately qualify your voice type until your late 20's or early 30's (and then your voice type may change again as you get past your 50's but that's a whole other discussion). I say this not to gatekeep, but because your voice is not only an instrument but part of your body and pushing yourself to sing an uncomfortable range because you are convinced that you are a certain voice type will physically damage your vocal chords. If you try to lift 200 lbs without having the muscles to do it, you will fucking hurt yourself. Many singers have destroyed their own careers by trying to sing parts that aren't suited to them to try and fill a certain niche, appear more marketable, or simply because they were misinformed.

As a small pro tip, the upper boundary of your range can generally be extended with (safe and proper) practice, but your lower range can not. Your comfort (and I mean comfort, that means without stress) in your low range is a much better indicator of where your tessitura and passagio lie and thus, voice type, than the upper boundary of your voice. HOWEVER. Everybody wants to be a contralto and a bass because they are the rarest voice types. But consistently pushing yourself to sing lower than is comfortable for you is the easiest and fastest way to damage your voice. As is pushing your voice to sound "bigger" than it actually is (most voice types are lyric, not dramatic-- but that's getting into fachs and that's a whole other mess). Sorry but the most common types are the most common types, find peace with your space in the universe. ANYWAYS sorry it's just a pet peeve please be safe and practice good vocal health thank you

[lgbtlunaverse]

Wildly veering into the realm of headcanon here but I think jgy has, like, deeply embarassing and intense fantasies about nie mingjue being courteous to his mom.

He has them about everyone to some extend it's his favorite way to calm down. Close your eyes, imagine your mom decked out in gold, her hair bound up, everyone bowing to her. It's how he gets through meetings without murdering everyone. But I think nie mingiue in particular is a very common solo target for these.

Lan Xichen gets his own special edition too, but it's not the same. Because he has a very clear and realistic picture of what he'd actually do. They don't talk about his mom that much but whenever she comes up xichen is always like well she sounds like a kind woman trying to make the best of her situation 😊 and everytime he thinks about them interacting there's a risk of it getting sad because oh if only...

Jin guangshan? Complete opposite end of the spectrum. It's very gratifying to imagine his mom getting everything she wanted but it's also too unrealistic. Even when still desperate for approval he knows what his father is like. He indulges in them from time to time but it's like the whole time there's an alarm flashing red overhead and going "out of character! Out of character!"

But Nie mingjue. Ohhhhh. Perfectly in the middle. Possible, but improbable enough it be exiting. Sure, he's an honourable man who didn't judge him for his background but he judged him for a whole lot of other things. Did he not discard jin guangyao just like his father threw away his mother when he got bored of her? He's both so easy to admire and so easy to be angry at and it's tantalizing.

He imagines himself walking arm in arm with his mom, in better health than she's ever been, dressed more luxuriously than even the wives of sect leaders on their wedding days, and Nie Mingjue comes up and bowes to her deeper than any sect leader should bow to anyone. Maybe even takes her hand and kisses it and dream!jgy gasps because that is so improper for any unmarried man to do to a woman not of his family!! But Nie Mingjue just looks confused because why shouldn't he pay Meng Shi the respect she so clearly deserves? If people interpret it wrongly that is their problem. Not even er-ge would do that. Would avoid inappropiate touches as a proper lan should but Nie Mingjue? Mingjue doesn't care about those things, if he wants to tell jin guangyao's mother she is the most elegant and radiant woman he's seen in the entire jianghu he will do so because he means it, dammit.

You can't call them horny exactly but they are carnal. This is a deep base desire he's satisfying here and oh does nie mingjue do his job well.

I think he has them, like, almost every day. I think he wakes up from them blushing I think he daydreams about it every single time he and Nie Mingjue talk. Even if it went bad. Especially if it went bad.

I think after the stairs incident the dreams mortifyingly increase dramatically for a few days. He sees it play out behind his eyelids everytime he so much as blinks. Imagines Nie Mingjue down on his knees kowtowing, apologizing to his mother, imagines him being outraged at his real self's words. Dishonourable, unfair, he would never say that. He closes his eyes when he first plays the song of turmoil for nie mingjue and imagines it the entire time. And when he's done he takes a deep breath and then he fucking beats the thought to death and stuffs it away with all the other feelings he's repressing and then never thinks about it again.

Nothing else is ever that satisfying but sometimes sacrifices must be made.

[oomisluvr]

KISS! KISS! (FALL IN LOVE?)

synopsis: kiyoomi's had a crush on you for the longest. leave it to atsumu to play matchmaker.

warnings: truth or dare gone wrong (gone right ???), akaashi and bokuto are a couple bc i say so, swearing, drinking, idk how they all know each other but they do, what timeline is this in, had so much fun writing this, heated kiss (spoilers hehehe), this was so self indulgent but who cares!!!

IT'S loud.

music passes through sakusa's body, the heaviness of the bass bouncing through his chest. there's so much going on, so many distractions. there's couples grinding on each other, sweaty bodies moving to the rhythm of the music. there's a small crowd of people doing body shots in the kitchen; a group of friends sparking up in the living room.

despite the chaos of atsumu's house party, all he sees is you.

with one leg thrown over the other, you're seated on the old couch talking to a friend, looking absolutely divine. sakusa takes a sharp breath when you let out a laugh, giggling at something your friend told you, flashing your pretty smile and lighting up the room.

"will you just talk to her? if you like her, you should say somethin' now."

taking a sip from his red solo cup, kiyoomi entertains the thought for a second, before dismissing it entirely. shaking his head, he pleads innocence, "i have no idea what you're talking about."

because you're completely out of his league, he thinks to add.

"aw, c'mon! anyone can see you're head over heels for her!" atsumu throws his hands up, "do it for me, please? 'm sick of seein' ya like this."

kiyoomi sighs, leaning against the wall of the corner he's currently occupying, "just drop it, would you? i'm not going over there."

"but it's my birthday! what kind of wingman would i be if i get you go home a virgin?"

"i said drop it," kiyoom's face burns at atsumu's accusation, "i'm here for osamu anyways." atsumu scoffs.

"fine. if you don't so something i will," atsumu threatens.

before kiyoomi can grasp what was just said to him, atsumu downs the remainder of his cup, tossing it on the floor and strutting over to where you and your friend sit.

mortified, sakusa stands helplessly as atsumu kisses you on the cheek in greeting, before extending his finger to kiyoomi, whispering something in your ear. sakusa can't make out what your response is, but he sure as hell doesn't miss the way you stand with atsumu, linking your arm with his. atsumu gives a thumbs up and a wink, the both of you heading his way.

sakusa feels his eyes widen with every step you take, until you stand in front of him. he hopes you can't tell that he's nervous.

up close, you're even prettier.

"c'mon, oomi, let's go someplace quieter," atsumu waves him an invitation, leading him across the crowded house and through the sliding doors, joining the small crew of people on porch. everyone's sitting in plastic lawn chairs arranged in a circle, a small bonfire in the middle.

he recognizes the few familiar faces from volleyball, feeling relieved at the sight of akaashi. as long as he's here, things shoudn't get too crazy, then.

watching you rush to the circle, jealousy burns in sakusa's stomach at the sight of you greeting everyone, envious that everyone seemingly knows you better than he does. how the hell does everyone know you?

"oomi!" bokuto calls, snapping him out of his feelings, "it's good to see you, man! take a seat!"

"we're talking shit about kageyama!" hinata giggles, a deep red hue spread across his cheeks and nose.

"you're talking shit about kageyama. the rest of us are trying to have an actual conversation," suna corrects, amusement clear on his face.

"ya don' have to look so scared, oomi-oomi. sit your ass down, you're makin' me nervous." atsumu winks at him, a knowing grin on his face. kiyoomi wants to punch him.

sakusa hadn't realized he looked out of place, still standing by the door as if he were afraid of the people out here. shoving a hand in his pocket, he stalks over to where everyone sits, sending a particularly harsh glare towards atsumu.

kiyoomi can't decide if he's the luckiest man alive or a hated by the universe, because the only open seat is next to you. he lowers himself in the plastic chair, his resolve crumbling as seconds go by.

"hey," a voice calls to him. sakusa thinks he's about to explode, turning his head to the origin of the voice, he's met with your gentle features, "you're sakusa, right?" you aren't even trying to seduce him, but the way you bat your mink lashes sends him spiraling, "you're the only one here i don't know. i'm y/n." you finish.

sakusa feels himself blinking owlishly at the sudden conversation. forcing himself to clear his throat after a few nervous seconds of staring, he nods his head, "yeah, you can call me kiyoomi, though," taking a sip from his drink, he hopes the blush on his face will be accredited to the contents of his cup.

"okay, kiyoomi," manicured nails tap the sides of your cup, "it's nice to meet you, then."

"likewise," he states, upset that he didn't have more material to keep the conversation going, deflating at the thought of you finding him boring.

you're the complete opposite of him; you're bold and friendly, striking up dialogue with everyone as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

getting pulled into another conversation, he watches your bright eyes engage with everyone in the circle, your charisma shining through. not having much to add to the conversation, he listens to everyone's banter, sliding in a sly remark when he could.

it's a nice atmosphere; the music isn't as loud out here and the air isn't stuffy. it's just good friends celebrating a birthday. sakusa feels himself relax more in his chair.

"guys! we should play truth or dare!" hinata beams, his sudden burst of energy startling everyone. suna scoffs, chucking at his antics.

"i think it'll be fun!" bokuto agrees, akaashi solemnly nodding his head as well.

"if there's nothing better to do," shrugs osamu.

"god, you guys are like highschoolers," you jab, but there's no venom behind your words, "let's do it."

"well? are you in, oomi-oomi?" atsumu nudges him, but his eyes hold a level of mischievous that makes sakusa nervous. all eyes on him, how could he say no?

"yeah," kiyoomi nods, "let's play. who's going first?"

"i wanna go first," suna quips, a deviant look in his eye, "this one's for akaashi. truth or dare?"

akaashi looks confused, but responds nonetheless, "truth."

suna gives a knowing smile, "my second year," he starts, "there was a fancy training camp that a buncha' schools went to. it was boujee as hell and they even let us pick who we would room with. anyways, i was the lucky bastard who got the room next to you and bokuto."

bokuto gets uncharacteristically quiet as akaashi flushes red, "okay? you're yet to ask a question, suna."

chuckling, suna takes a swig from his heineken, shaking his head, "there is no question. your reaction told me all i needed to know."

the circle erupts in hooting and hollering, atsumu doubled over in laugher. even kiyoomi stifles a chuckle.

"that's not fair! that was a targeted question!" bokuto whines.

"oh boo-hoo, there's no rules against it," suna jokes, "akaashi it's your turn."

if looks could kill, suna would be dead.

"fine," akaashi glares at suna, before taking a deep breath and selecting his target, "atsumu. truth or dare?"

"i ain't no pussy," still laughing at the implications of suna's averted question, he bares his teeth in a wide smile, "i chose dare. give me your best shot."

"i dare you—" akaashi smirks like a predator who's just cornered it's prey, "—to share with the rest of us why you and your girlfriend broke up."

hinata's mouth drops open. sakusa freezes mid-sip. everyone's hand flies to cover their mouths.

"oh shit," osamu chimes, biting his lip to seal away any giggles.

"oh, will you—will you guys cut it out!" atsumu flails his arms around, exasperated, "—i'm not made of glass or anythin'. we broke up because we broke up. simple."

"you used so many words to say so little," osamu prods.

"it's obvious you're not over her," bokuto states, as if he were the only person to come to this conclusion.

"oh, shut it. i answered the damn question, so we're moving on!"

"he's definitely not over her," bokuto whispers. atsumu pretends he didn't hear that.

"—oomi-oomi. truth or dare?" sakusa's brows perk up at the sudden attention.

"truth," he states flatly, "i don't trust any dares coming from you."

"boooooo!" atsumu calls loudly, "don't be such a party pooper! chose dare!"

"no, you're going to embarrass me."

"quit bein' a coward," atsumu challenges, knowing he doesn't want to look like a wimp in front of you, "what's the worst that could happen?"

"fine," sakusa grits his teeth, "dare."

atsumu smirks.

"i dare you to kiss y/n."

that. that was the worst that could happen. sly bastard.

"what the fuck? i'm not doing that, atsumu."

"why not? scared of a little bit of action, oomi-oomi?"

"no," his face burns, "y/n didn't consent to a kiss, you sick fuck. this is textbook sexual harassment."

"oh?" atsumu pipes up at this flawed admission, "so if y/n gave you permission, you'd kiss her?"

sakusa doesn't speak, but his silence expresses enough. atsumu leans his head back in laughter.

"what am i going to do with you two, hmm?" he questions to no-one in particular, tilting his head in your direction, "y/n," he calls.

"truth or dare?"

"it's not her turn!" hinata quips.

"shhhh!" akaashi shushes him, mumbling something about wanting to see how this would turn out.

you sigh, "i know what you're doing, miya."

"you're avoidin' the question."

"it's not going to work, you know."

"then just pick." he persists.

"miya!"

"truth or dare, y/n?"

you hold your breath, "truth."

"do you want sakusa to kiss you?"

biting their cheeks in anticipation, everyone waits for your crushing reply. sakusa wishes the earth would just swallow him whole.

"yes."

sakusa almost spits out his drink.

"then what are you waiting for? kiss dammit!" atsumu commands.

the earth seems to stand still, the bass of the music drowning out completely. you want to kiss him. it takes everything in sakusa to hold back a smile and he briefly thinks he owes atsumu his life.

turning to look at you, he speaks softly, "you don't have to do this, you know. literally nothing would happen if we didn't complete the dare."

"you don't have to freak out, it's just a kiss." you shrug, hoping he can't tell how badly you want this, "if you don't want to kiss me, you can just say that."

"i didn't say that."

"then stop panicking." you insist, offering a shy smile, "if it makes you feel any better, i'll—"

"quit stallin'!" atsumu shouts, clearly pleased with himself.

sakusa's eyes flicker to your lips, "sorry in advance."

leaning over his arm rest, a callused hand caresses the side of your neck, pulling you into him. the sensation of your lips against his sends his nerves into a frenzy. it's a brief kiss that doesn't last for very long, and sakusa slowly pulls away to get a look at you.

there's something about this damned angle that makes you look so enchanting. the brightness of the fire and the illumination from the moonlight seem to be working against him, only tempting him more. despite them both, your eyes seem to be shining the brightest, captivating him in an inviting gaze that asks for more. his fingers twitch with the urge to touch you.

his eyes flicker down to your lips once again. he finds you doing the same. no words are exchanged, but you move in sync nonetheless.

"fuck it."

throwing caution to the wind, he pulls you back to him, your lips meeting once again. tilting his head to kiss you deeper, he nearly let's out a groan when he feels your palm rest on the nape of his neck, light fingers toying with the fine hairs found there. sakusa thinks he hears cheering, but he can't seem to focus on anything else besides your soft lips moving against his.

his tongue reaches out to swipe against your lips to test the waters, and you take the liberty of pulling him closer, using the back of his head to shield you both from wandering eyes.

more comfortable in the new-found privacy, he kisses you with more passion, biting your lip and experimenting with tongue, confidence burning in his veins when you let out a squeak. your lips move in a rhythm that makes him wish you two were alone out here, but sakusa knows this is as far as this should go.

satisfied with himself, he pulls away, basking in the intoxicated look in your eye, the string of saliva previously connecting the two of you breaks when you both move back into your seats.

nobody says a word.

"stop staring, perverts. you should've taken a picture so it would last longer."

"yeah, if you wanna keep watching, it's five bucks from each of you," you joke.

atsumu reaches for his wallet instantly. osamu reaches to stop him.

"i thought sakusa was gonna whip out his dick." suna snorts.

kiyoomi's face burns at his accusation because the thought did cross his mind, actually.

"pretty sure i heard y/n moan," akaashi prods.

"girl—" bokuto gives you a pointed look, "—you better take him home with you. tonight."

hinata nods, "did you see the way he kissed her? he went back for seconds!"

laughing at their energy, you turn to gage sakusa's reaction, "i'm with shoyo on this one. if you're gonna kiss me like that, at least take me on a date first."

sakusa blushes further, not trusting himself to speak. atsumu takes the liberty to speak for him.

"holy fuck, i'm the matchmaking god. come to me for all your relationship needs."

"i'm not asking a single guy for realtionship advice." osamu picks at his nails mindlessly.

"this again? i told you, it was a mutual breakup—"

"sho!" you beam, cutting them both off, "truth or dare?"

"dare!" hinata calls.

you grin, "try your best to suduce bokuto. lap dances, a strip tease, whatever—give it your best shot."

hinata lets out a bright stream of giggles, already standing to remove his shirt, "you're on!"

akaashi visibly pales.

the game continues on and one by one, the small crowd gets even smaller as people bid their goodbyes and happy birthdays to the hosts.

at one point, you dance with hinata and bokuto, yelling something about a hot girl summer. suna shows you tiktoks on his phone and akaashi teaches you how to play minsweeper. osamu shares his chips with you as atsumu plays with your hair. you fit in so well, everyone just clicks to you.

the patio crew are the only stragglers left, finally standing from their seats and heading inside to help clean up the aftermath of the party.

nobody speaks of the sexual tension between you and sakusa for the rest of the night, but it's painfully obvious to anyone within six feet of you two. something warm blooms in his chest when he watches you stumble around the house, more drunk on sleep than anything else, and he finds the courage to speak to you.

"did you have a good time?"

"hmm?" you attempt to blink the sleep from your eyes, leaning over to pick up solo cups from the floor, "oh, yeah. tonight was fun."

"it almost ended before it started. atsumu wanted to put 'pink + white' on his birthday playlist."

laughing at how awful that would've been, you snort, "i guarantee he would have burst into tears at the chorus." sakusa chuckles, enjoying this moment he gets to share with you.

briefly, kiyoomi sends up a quick prayer who whoever is listening.

"hey, uh," sakusa scratches the back of his neck, his heart hammering in his ears, "earlier you mentioned something about a date. is that offer still on the table?"

"yeah," standing straight, you try your best to seem relaxed, "what did you have in mind?"

"next saturday. are you free?"

"the freest."

"great," he feels a weight lift off his shoulders, "i'll pick you up at seven?"

"seven works fine," you offer a shy smile, "see you then."

BYE I LOVE FICS WHERE THEY'RE ALL ONE BIG FAMILY IDC IF ITS CORNY

[boltlightning]

hey gamers. the dead man’s chest soundtrack has been rolling around my head a lot lately; the extended soundtrack from this playlist has been a godsend. specifically i want to gush about the instrumentation.

the potc soundtracks use a standard orchestra composition, focusing on strings and brass and less on woodwinds. DMC introduces the kraken and davy jones, who are associated with davy jones’ organ (of course) and — well. hans zimmer went nuts and recorded the orchestra, then piped that recording back over the music through a guitar amp. it sounds uncannily like an electric bass (and yes, a guitar now and then), so for our purposes i am going to say it sounds like electric bass with CRUNCHY reverb. it seems a little counterintuitive to associate ancient and cursed beings with more modern, experimental sounds, but altogether it creates this delightful, otherworldly, primordial rock band feel.

let’s take the track from when we first meet davy jones, dutchman arrival, for instance. it gives us a touch of that electric bass underneath jones’ theme when the sailors first show up, then pivots to normal orchestration as will is fighting. HE doesn’t know who they are, only that they’re odd — and when jones shows up finally, you get the bass holding that melody all on its own, this terrifying, growling refrain that sounds like it’s seething just under the surface. an undercurrent…a heartbeat, perhaps.

hold onto that thought. let’s move on. davy jones and his organ. jones having something as dramatic, expensive, and dominating as an organ on his ship speaks to how authoritative his character is — he’s playing his self-pitying music while his crew is breaking their backs to keep this awful ship sailing. he plays it solo, then the entire orchestra joins in, and beneath it all…the thrum of a heart. the melody of jones’ theme fits lock-and-key with the beat of a heart. here, everything is orchestral, but we’ve added the warm tones of choral voices under it all, like this is a horrible waltz that everyone aboard is doomed to keep dancing. and then it spirals into discordant chaos.

as a bonus: pipe organs have the countermelody playing with foot pedals, usually. imagine jones and his peg leg playing this kind of shit while the squid beard tickles the keys

i also L O V E the chorus humming in the back half of the whipping scene. it makes my skin crawl.

this all builds to the second kraken attack, the attack that introduces the viewer to the kraken in person. just…the constant buzz of the bass under these insane, warning low brass flourishes. the guitar-alike sound is in full force here and drapes this growly, eerie echo over the entire score. just when you hit the natural apex of the song, when you think you might reach some sort of musical resolution, it cuts out for a caesura — and bursts back in with the organ melody, huge and overwhelming over it all, as the kraken FULLY CRACKS A SHIP IN HALF. just in case you forgot who made this all happen. this is the EXACT way a heroic theme would triumphantly emerge in any classical piece of work. eat your heart out, holst.

the way jones’ theme is reprised with horns in the ship to ship score is so chilling too. it’s played in will's instrument after all! it's this teeny little bit of hope, a sign the pearl might get away — yet it’s getting lost in all the tenor voices just to really remind you how hopeless this all is. and then everything drops away and jones’ theme fully emerges in the low bass; it’s raunchy and nasty and so, so scary. god. what a score.

they do such a good job with the themes, even without visuals it’s so easy to tell who is on screen doing what in any of the tracks from the wheel of fortune section (specifically heart madness on the extended soundtrack). if there’s soaring brass and string stings, you know local romance heroes will and norrington are trying to kill each other on the wheel. if it’s quiet with a plucky little string soli, low reeds, and snare accents, you know jack is doing some shenanigans off to the side. if there’s deep and growling bass and organ swells, it’s elizabeth and pintel and ragetti racing against the crew of the dutchman for the heart.

in particular there’s this delightful bit in the track immediately preceding it, 3-way sword fight, where the melody starts and stops as all three dudes with swords are getting their footing on the various precarious places they take their fight. it builds and builds, and soon the melody is getting juggled by three different groups of instruments as elizabeth gets drawn into the fight too. talk about chaos.

on a related, but more lowkey character note: i ADORE that beckett’s associated instrument is the harpsichord. you only hear it a little bit in the track when will is bargaining with beckett. the harpsichord immediately puts you in the mind of aristocratic england; it was a household instrument back then, it’s plausibly an instrument beckett could play himself! it’s particular, but at the same time it’s subtle. it’s not dominating. he’s a new player in the game with a unique position, and damn does he know how to play the game.

and FINALLY. to compare beckett to someone ostentatious in a much different way: jack is associated with two themes, summed up perfectly in this track. this big, great, sweeping, seafaring melody we know and love, with regimented snare drum and timpani, the whole nine yards. it invokes jack’s reputation, the captain in his title…and then it fades to that stupid little soli, the gremlin trickster we all know and love.

yet compare that track with this demo of the same themes — it’s the exact same music, just with a solo piano, and it sounds so moody, even when the key and tempo pick up. THAT’S the power of instrumence baby! the texture, timbre, and context of any given melody changes the weight and impact, even if the notes are exactly the same. 

finally finally: i hope the timpani player finds a million dollars every day in the street.

ok. phew. this soundtrack makes me want to go learn cello and i needed to get that out of my system. thanks for coming to my tedtalk.

[theresattrpgforthat]

Any solo-player/journal games that are a bit more lighthearted, preferably with a focus on character building?

Theme: Light-Hearted, Character-Focused Solo Games.

Hello friend! I have some games here that skew more towards the Light-Hearted end of the scale, while others skew more towards Character Building. I hope one of them fits right in the niche you are looking for!

Souvenirs, by Rémi Töötätä.

You are going on a week-long vacation. You are determined to enjoy every visit you go on and come back home with souvenirs from each day, including one for your friend who is taking care of your pet while you’re away.

During the game, you will keep a journal of the places you’re going to and the souvenirs you’re getting. Draw cards each day of your vacation and use prompts to imagine the places you visit, the items you get as souvenirs and the memories they represent.Make yourself a nice cup of tea, write the diary of your character each day, maybe draw a map of the region and pictures of the items you imagine, or play entirely in your head; and most of all, have a lovely time!

This looks like a very lighthearted game, and the souvenirs you collect as you play seem like excellent tools to convey personal memories. This game is meant to happen over the course of a week, so every morning you can sit down and journal about where your character would visit, and what would catch their eye. As you do so, you’ll also want to think about who you’re buying for, and what kind of connection you have to them. At the end of the game, you’ll have a lovely web of relationships, as well as a little story to take back to your NPC friends.

Hygge Holiday, by Figgins.

Hygge Holiday is a solo journaling RPG set in a cozy small village in a Nordic country.

You’ve travelled home for an extended winter holiday, with lots of vacation time.  Winter is a time to slow down and focus on simple pleasures and good company. Luckily, the Nordic countries offer free health care and university education, on top of many weeks of paid holiday per year, and generous unemployment benefits--meaning less worry, stress and uncertainty, and more time for enjoying the simple pleasures in life. How will you spend your time, and with whom? 

This game probably feels more fitting for the cold weather days, but it certainly looks like a great cozy game none the less. You earn paper snowflakes that reflect your experiences and you will also journal about these memories, which might fit the character-building kind of theme you are looking for!

Etude of the Evening, by Takuma Okada.

Etude of the Evening is a tabletop roleplaying game about recovering lost objects from your brilliant past. It is a hack of Songs for the Dusk by Kavita Poduri and Quinn Vega combined with You Will Destroy Something Beautiful by Samantha Day. Uses a six-sided die, for 1 to 3 players. 1-2 hours.

Overall, I think the tone for this game can vary, but it certainly hits the spot of focusing on your character. You’ll answer questions about who you are at the beginning of the game, and navigate a strange landscape. If you want to focus on a light-hearted tone, then you’ll just want to take descriptive choices that focus on beauty rather than decay.

The Land Beyond, by Cezar Capacle.

You are a raccoon. You lived your whole life on an island but now you have a hot air balloon.

You want to be free and reach The Land Beyond.

The Land Beyond is a solo RPG about letting go and going beyond what you think you could. You travel through wondrous lands living fantastic adventures along the way. 

During your journey, you will have the opportunity to reflect upon the burdens you carry with you and, luckily, let go of them so you can travel even further.

This is a journeying game that looks like it’s probably a little less light-hearted than you’re looking for, but really focuses on character reflection. I like the oracles for events in this book, and the idea of tracking the gas in your balloon in order to see how far you can go. I’m keeping this recommendation in because even if it requires a lot of serious character reflection, at the end of the day, you’re still a raccoon in a hot air balloon - and that just feels whimsical to me.

Creation Myths, by gothHoblin.

Creation Myths is a solo journeying game based on the hero's journey/monomyth narrative template. 

It is designed to help you dive deeper into character creation through the development of a backstory adventure via dice and prompts, and to provide you with new things to think about. It can also work as a way to redevelop existing characters and generate fresh ideas. With multiple modes of play available, all you need is a set of dice and somewhere to write. Let your imagination do the rest!

This is another case of your mileage may vary when it comes to tone, because you’ll be the source of ideas for coming up with a character backstory. This is meant to be pretty genre-agnostic, so you might want to pull from other games or pieces of media to decide what kind of character you want to write backstory for. It’s solely focused on character development, but again, whether or not it’s lighthearted is probably up to you.

Incarnation, by breathing stories.

At some mundane moment, something shifted in you. The number of ‘coincidences’ became too large to be without meaning. The deja vu became impossible to ignore. It hit you, not like a sack of bricks, but like a shawl landing firmly on your shoulders.

This is not your first life. You have lived many others, and now they start trickling in…

In Incarnation, you create a character who has just become aware that the life they are leading is not their first life. Using a tarot deck you will create the story of this character and their past lives, uncovering secrets pleasant and otherwise.

With all that this character has been through, the weight of all they hold, who are they really?

This game has the potential to shift in tone, but since it’s played using a tarot deck, I feel like much of the genre and details will depend on the player’s interpretation. It’s deeply tied to character building, as the game revolves around discovering your character’s past lives. If Anamnesis sounds up your alley, then this game might tick a lot of the same boxes, as it’s built on the same set of rules.

Fox Curio’s Floating Bookshop, by lostwaysclub.

Welcome to the River; a flowing path born at the mountain’s feet. In her high narrows, barely two boats fit lengthwise; a furious pounding of water. From these rocky ravines, she threads her way through the land, until she reaches the Great Sea. Quiet and slow-moving in these lowlands, she provides homes for those who live upon her waters and food for those who live beside her.

Your days are filled with customers, leaks and the irritating nook beetles that bury into the pages of your books. Make friends with regular customers to the bookshop, experience the River as she moves through the different seasons, visit and explore various towns, go fishing in the River's rich waters. Throughout the year, the seasons change and holidays give the chance for you to join in celebrations and festivities with the animalfolk. 

This game is at the top of the list when looking at tone; it’s absolutely lighthearted, but I’m not sure how much it focuses on character building. Most of the focus will be on your customers, but I think as you journal, you have the potential to learn more about your character through the kinds of books they sell and how they deal with customers. Overall the tone of this world is so beautiful and peaceful, it’s on my own list of games I’d love to play.

Games I've Recommended in the Past

Void 1680 AM, by Bannerless Games.

Anamnesis, by Sam Leigh.

Wanderhome, by Jay Dragon.