#I knew it would be soon since they started to turn gray but I wasn't sure how long lol

[elspethdekarios]

Atonement

Hello fellow Solavellan sufferers!!! I've written a little fic about what I imagine goes down between Solas and Lavellan once the game is over. I'll have you know I listened to the Lost Elf Theme on repeat while writing it, if that tells you anything. Anyway, read below the cut or on AO3 here!

SFW, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Words: 2,821

! HUGE VEILGUARD SPOILERS !

When she stepped into the Fade, hand in hand with her love, Sulah had no preconceived notion of what to expect on the other side, nor did she spend a moment speculating about what it could possibly be. She was with Solas, after all, and there was no use in trying to predict his actions. It was funny, really—how she found him predictable and surprising all in the same. No, there was little use trying to guess where in the Fade he would lead them. Nonetheless, she wasn't sure she would have ever expected this.

The pocket of the Fade they walked into was dull and gray as stone. In fact, most of it was stone. Fragments of buildings and debris floated slowly through the foggy sky above. Tendrils of winding roots grew up through cracks in the stone. There were staircases that seemed to lead to nowhere, and twisted, barren trees clinging to broken columns and walls. The air was so still it felt stifling in Sulah’s lungs. And Solas, downtrodden and bruised, looked like he belonged there. Like he was part of the backdrop. As if he could hear her thoughts, he spoke.

“It is a reflection of what I am. What I don't want to be.” He paused, dropping his head. “What I don't want to face.”

“This is how you atone?”

“I told you it would be terrible.”

“And I told you forever.” Sulah turned to him, heart aching for the bloodied mess of his face. “I meant it.”

Solas lifted his head enough to look at her through glassy, violet eyes. “I don’t deserve you, vhenan.”

“I think that’s up to me,” she said, wiping away a stray tear on his cheek. “Let’s talk, my love. Before you start making your amends.”

They sat with their backs against a nearby stone wall. Solas’s eyes alternated between being heavy with sleep and haunting despair. He looked so much older than she remembered him—not physically, really, but in the way he seemed to be held down with millennia of burden. On the other hand, he had the heartbreaking demeanor of a child unable to emotionally grasp the multitude of his feelings.

“I don’t know… where to start,” he breathed. With one look at her, a hint of hope glimmered amongst the sadness in his eyes. “I have missed you. Desperately so.”

“I’ve missed you, too.” Sulah’s voice cracked as she spoke, a stream of tears steadily falling down her cheeks. She brushed them away and smiled sadly. “So let’s start there, shall we?”

His kiss tasted of salt and metal. She didn’t care about the wounds on his face or the small gash on his lip still swelling with blood. It had been a decade since she tasted him, touched him, spoke to him. Even though she knew he visited in her dreams, he never made contact—only watched, a dark figure in the distance. How she longed to reach out for him every time, to pull him close and find solace in his arms like she used to. Sulah crawled in front of him, her knees aching as they pressed into the cold stone, and wrapped her arms around his neck. After a brief hesitation, Solas rested his hands on her waist, his touch timid at first, like he was afraid of doing something wrong. But his touch grew more confident by the second, and soon his arms were wrapped around her so tight she could barely breathe. It felt as if a missing piece of her heart had been restored, held in place by molten gold.

“I don’t know that I can possibly tell you all of it. Perhaps I could… show you, instead.” With a single thought, Solas willed into the Fade a blue crystal statuette of a wolf, not unlike the one Sulah found when his ritual failed. He held it, concentrated on it, and its core radiated bright blue magic. He held the figure out to her. As Sulah took it from him, their destitute surroundings swirled and dissolved, leaving her in front of a young Solas. His face was not quite so worn with pain and exhaustion like the one she knew. Long, auburn hair cascaded down the center of his head, falling over his shoulder as he turned to face the other elf in front of him.

“Solas, how could you?” the other elf asked. His skin was tan, his hair was dark, and his face was marked with Mythal’s branching vallaslin. The same branches that Sulah had tattooed underneath her eyes.

“I do not expect you to understand, Felassan,” Solas said, standing tall and proud as ever. “It was necessary for the enemy to believe we were committed. A heavy sacrifice, but one that gave us a real chance to end the war.”

“You knowingly sent those spirits to their deaths!” Felassan shouted. “We’re supposed to be better than this.”

Felassan spoke to Solas with the intimacy and confidence of a close friend, unafraid to confront his wrongdoings. Sulah could make out a hint of remorse in Solas’s eyes before his face hardened into a scowl.

“I did what had to be done.”

The scene dissipated. Ruins were replaced with the glorious landscape of ancient Arlathan, sprawling greenery among grand, floating palaces. Solas argued with an elven woman who Sulah now recognized as Mythal. She was identical to the spirit fragment she had seen before stepping into the Fade with Solas, only solid and real. The words they spoke were jumbled, as if Solas couldn’t remember the exact things said when he transferred the memory to the statue, but Sulah knew what they were discussing all the same: the Blight. Solas protested, pleaded with Mythal, before finally giving in to her demands.

“I will follow you always,” he said. Sulah had never heard him sound so defeated. A distinct and overwhelming sense of shame settled over her as the scene faded.

The memories continued like this, one after the other, each one brief but enough to show her the actions that haunted him. And enough to leave her with thousands of questions. She saw his regrets from centuries ago—memories of Mythal, Elgern’an, Ghilan’nain, the other Evanuris. She saw him destroy the legacy of the titans, and the corruption that introduced the Blight to the world. She saw his sorrow at the creation of the Veil, the loss of the world he knew, the unbreakable tether he had to Mythal, similar to a commandeering mother and a child eager to please her, desperate for her approval. She saw his plans to give Corypheus the orb go awry, the conflict raging inside of him as he fell in love with Sulah, the way he almost told her the truth that night in Crestwood. She felt the guilt he carried afterwards—that he still carried. She saw him devise his devious plan to mold Rook into someone the prison would take in his place. His betrayal and desperation.

She saw the despair in his eyes when he killed Varric.

Sulah stood on the raised platform where Solas orchestrated his ritual, watching as Varric climbed the stairs in an attempt to stop his friend. Even in a memory, the air was charged with powerful magic, culminating in a swirling wind that blew her hair into her face, obscuring her view. She could only make out fragments of the argument.

“You need to listen—”

“You have come a long way and made a valiant effort, Varric—”

“—able to give me a straight answer—”

“—rather than admit this is mine to solve—”

“—who are you trying to convince here? Me or yourself?”

Varric’s last statement stung like a knife. His words echoed as time slowed. Sulah felt the heavy burden of self doubt imbued in Solas’s memory as the two men locked eyes, their argument hanging in the air between them. In a chaotic flash, several things happened: Solas turned to continue the ritual, Varric attempted to pry the lyrium dagger from Solas’s hands, and the monuments of the Evanuris surrounding the ritual site began to fall. Somewhere in the chaos, while wrenching the dagger back from Varric’s grasp, the blade pierced through his chest. The sound of ripping flesh. The gasp from Varric’s mouth.

“NO!” Sulah shouted. Time had slowed, and she rushed to catch him as he stumbled, forgetting that it was no use. Her arms moved through him like a ghost.

Solas watched his friend fall to the bottom of the stairs, regret bubbling up inside of him at what he’d done. And still, the sense of doubt from Varric’s words lingered, sullying Solas’s certainty as innocent blood seeped through the fabric of his gloves.

He steeled himself with cold resolve and turned away.

The gray of the Fade prison came back into view. Sulah felt like she had been in Solas’s memories for hours, but neither her body nor his had moved from the ground against the wall. He watched her with bated breath, his jaw clenched, eyes glossy with fresh tears. Moments ago, she watched him command a rebellion, steadfast and resolute and proud. A powerful god among mortals. But the Solas in front of her now held little of the immense ancient spirit she’d seen. He was only a man, broken from the weight of his regrets.

“I cannot ask for your forgiveness, vhenan. Not even your understanding.” His voice broke, his next words spoken through a sob. “I am so sorry that I let you fall in love with a monster.”

Solas hugged his knees to his chest. His hands shook and his body trembled as he cried. It was pure, raw, searing emotion—and it was the first time she had ever seen him lose control of himself. Sulah had been lonely for years, yearning for the man who felt like home while sleeping cold in an empty bed, but she’d never felt as alone as she felt now, sitting in the vast emptiness of the Fade with a god shedding centuries’ worth of repressed agony that she could never possibly comprehend. He was the one who always seemed to know what to do, who had a plan for everything. He was the one more familiar with the Fade than the waking world. But he was also the one who had to face his regrets. His pain. And he had already proven that he couldn’t do that on his own.

“Solas,” she said, quiet and sad. “You killed Varric.”

“I’m sorry,” he choked through tears.

“I… I knew he was gone, but no one…” she trailed off, thinking back to the letter she received from Morrigan shortly after she met Rook and the others. Varric was gravely injured in an altercation. He did not make it. I am sorry you have to find out this way. “No one told me it was by your hand.”

“They were protecting you,” he said. “From the truth of what I am. Perhaps they shouldn’t have done so.”

Sulah sat in silence, trying to piece it all together in her mind.

“I never meant to hurt Varric,” Solas whispered. “I have harmed so many people, innocent people, and Varric… Varric….”

He stopped speaking and rested his forehead on his knees, letting the tears fall on his armor.

“My love—”

“How can you possibly still love me, Sulah?” he snapped, a wolf showing his fangs. “I deserve whatever cruel fate awaits me here. You do not.”

“Solas—”

“Would you truly—”

“Let me speak,” she said, stern and commanding. Her Inquisitor voice, the other members liked to call it. It worked. Solas nodded for her to continue. “To heal from your past, you have to confront it. It will be painful, but you must. Tell me about Varric.”

Solas sighed and let his head fall back to the wall, the apex of his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

“Varric was a good man. He was my friend.” He closed his eyes and Sulah watched as a single tear ran down his bloodied face. She tried to hold back her own tears, but they streamed warm down her cheeks nonetheless.

“What would you say to him if he were here?”

“That it is one of my greatest regrets, one that I desperately wish I could take back. That I enjoyed his company on our journey years ago, and that I have missed him in the years since. And that I am terribly, terribly sorry.”

Like a prayer, the final words escaped Solas’s mouth in a despondent whisper. In the distance, a structure resembling the skyline of Kirkwall crumbled. Sulah recognized it from her visit several years ago. She had only made it to Kirkwall once in the time that Varric was viscount, a position he reluctantly accepted, but one that she always suspected he secretly enjoyed. He took her to the cliffs of Sundermount, where Dalish sometimes set up camp. It looked remarkably like the area of the Free Marches her clan frequented before she left.

“I thought it might remind you of home”, he had said.

“I came here to see* your *home, Varric.”

“We’re doing that too.” he pointed across the water to the silhouetted, square buildings.

She smiled at the memory and let herself cry as the Kirkwall replica became an avalanche of stone plummeting into the abyss. When its final, broken pieces fell, Solas turned back to her and took a long breath. She looked at him, attempting to reconcile the Solas she knew and loved, the Solas in front of her now, with the Solas she saw in his memories. There was a cruel pride deep inside of him, one he tried to keep from her for so long. She could see it now, and it was fractured.

How could she possibly come to terms with all he had done? He had taken Varric away from this world, a man who, despite his faults, brought hope and friendship and humor into the world around him. She could feel the empty, aching shells of all the hearts who missed him—including her own. There were more adventures to be had, more books to be written, and Solas took it away. Away from Varric, away from the world. Sulah couldn’t bring herself to consider the even larger things he had done. The man she loved was responsible for the Blight. He tranquilized the Titans. He murdered his friends—sometimes on accident, sometimes for what he considered betrayal.

Sulah steadied her breathing and closed her eyes, focusing on the rhythm of the air flowing in and out of her lungs. She let the world fall away until she could feel nothing but the essence of her soul spreading into her limbs, making her weightless. If Solas was a spirit of wisdom, what was she, deep down? A word stirred somewhere in the depths of her heart: patience.

“This is going to take a long time, vhenan.” Solas’s words roused her from contemplation.

“Yes,” she said. “For both of us, I think.”

For the first time since reuniting, he touched her of his own accord, studying her prosthetic arm with gentle fingers before resting his hand on her thigh beside it.

“It’s a good thing time doesn’t exist in the Fade, then.” Sulah placed her remaining hand on top of his. “To answer your earlier question, I choose to still love you despite your mistakes, Solas. I love you because I tried to move on, to meet other people, but none of them could touch whatever piece of my soul that you do. Every person I tried to give my heart to was a flimsy bandage over a gaping wound. And I had to reconcile with myself that I love someone who would tear the world apart for his own stubborn pride. I know your heart, Solas. You are more than your mistakes.”

Sulah felt as if a small part of the rift between them had stitched itself back together; a fragile scar translucent and deep, but healing nonetheless. For a moment, the insurmountable hurdles she would have to help him overcome fell away. It was just the two of them, together in the Fade like all those years ago. She knew how the world would see them: the lovestruck Inquisitor and the Dread Wolf. The cautionary tale of a Dalish girl who fell right into the jaws of Fen’Harel himself.

“Sulah,” Solas reached for her face with both hands, holding her like he had to be sure she wasn’t a mere reflection of his desire. “As long as you will have me, I swear to you: I will never abandon you again. You will have me, always.”

His kiss was soft, but charged with intention. Devotion. As they broke apart, he pulled Sulah into his arms, resting his cheek on the top of her head.

“Ar lath ma vhenan. Bellanaris.”

[applejarjar]

Babies!!

[doctor-dusk]

𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧 | 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐭.

being the only witness to a crime has its advantages.

warnings: hard dom!alex, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), piv, mentions of death/strangulation.

word count: 4.7k

celebrating am's birthday with an am!alex smut. is it weird for me to say that i actually enjoyed writing this? save me officer turner save me. hope you like it :3

the ticking of the clock was starting to irritate you. not that you were easily irritated, but since you had been sitting there for almost forty minutes, everything seemed to be at least a little irritating from your point of view.

they said it would be quick.

the ceiling fan was also irritating you. it was spinning slowly, barely ventilating. you crossed your legs, leaning back against the cushioned chair, and looked at the clock on the wall. it was almost 8pm.

they really did say it would be quick.

‘’miss.’’ the strangely deep voice of the police station clerk caught your attention. you turned your head to look at her. she didn't look that old, but the strands of gray hair scattered throughout her brown hair gave away that she was in her 50s. ‘’can you sign here?’’ she pointed to the paperwork laid out on the counter under a black ballpoint pen.

you stood up, your shoes making a clicking noise on the porcelain floor as you made your way to sign the papers. you signed the fields marked with an 'x'. it was a boring form, but necessary.

‘’follow me, i'll take you to the interrogation room.’’ she said, coming out from behind the counter, going through the small door to get to you. you followed her through the hallways full of doors, you couldn't tell if they were cells or other departments. you weren't in a position to find out right now, you would just go there, tell what you knew and leave.

she opened the door to interrogation room number 5. you looked around before entering. dark gray walls, a mirrored glass wall to your left, a medium square table with two chairs at the ends. oh, and of course, a small recorder right in the center of the table.

‘’the investigator will be right there to talk to you.’’ she said, motioning for you to sit in the chair. you nodded, taking a few steps forward to sit in the first chair.

you left your purse on your lap, crossing your legs over the other, swaying back and forth. there wasn't much to look at there. you didn't have your phone with you. somehow, they took it as soon as you entered the police station.

that's what you get for going to a pub with a college friend and watching her get strangled in the alley.

you shook your head, guilty for having thought that. it wasn't her fault. at least as far as you know. it was on saturday. it didn't take long for the police to call you in for questioning when they found out you were the only one who witnessed the whole thing.

you sighed, looking around, not sure exactly what you were looking for. you looked at the recorder on the table, tilting your neck forward to get a better look. it was ridiculously old, but it seemed to be in good condition. several small buttons, a small sound output and a vertical microphone, almost imitating an antenna.

you reached out your hand, wanting to touch the tip of the small microphone.

‘’don't touch it.’’ you heard a male voice behind you that made you straighten up immediately, the shock making your heart beat faster and your hand twitching back to your lap in the blink of an eye. you didn't even hear him come into the room.

‘’sorry.’’ you said in an apologetic tone, glancing at him when his steps got louder and firmer towards you to sit in the chair.

all in black, including the suspenders. tailored pants, shoes that were shined that morning. ironed black shirt closed to the last button with the collar low. utility belt circling the small waist with a badge and a gun in the holster.

so this is the investigator? fuck, he's hot.

he let out a heavy sigh, holding a mug with black coffee without sugar and a brown folder under his arm. he smelled like cigarettes, especially because he had smoked one before entering the room. there were bags under his eyes, you didn't know if they were dark circles or if that was something characteristic of him. he certainly looked like he hadn't slept in three days. but still hot.

he threw the folder on the table without much care, pulling out the empty chair to sit down.

‘’coffee?’’ he asked, gesturing with the mug. you shook your head. he shrugged, taking a sip and soon reached into the small outer pocket of his shirt. ‘’gum?’’ he asked again, taking a piece of gum from inside the small rectangular package. ‘’you can take it, you know?’’ he said as if he knew you were hesitant to take it. of course, he was an investigator. he certainly knew a lot about body language at this point.

you reached out to take the gum, accepting it. watermelon flavored, curiously enough, it was one of your favorites. he repeated your action, opening the small package and putting the gum in his mouth, keeping the paper inside his shirt pocket to throw in the trash later. 

‘’comfortable?’’ he asked you. you shifted in your chair, nodding. the chair wasn't that comfortable, but you wouldn't dare complain. ‘’good. let's get started, miss…’’ he paused, reading your name on the interrogation sheet. his accent made it even better. 

he spread the papers on the table meticulously in front of you. it was the investigation dossier. photos of the crime scene, the autopsy report, the draft of the opening of the investigation. he opened a small, worn notebook. there was a pen inside, the clicking sound crackling in your ears as he tested the pen to confirm that it was working. he cleared his throat, turning on the voice recorder, making a small red light light up in the upper left corner of the recorder. he brought his face closer to the microphone, making a few strands of his black hair fall over his forehead like a small waterfall.

‘’tuesday, july 8th, 8:15 pm. this is investigator turner from the 3rd regional police station, and i will now be taking the statement of...'' he paused, reading his name and surname again on the file. ‘’... about the crime of homicide against tori baker, which occurred on the 5th.’’ he said out loud as the recorder began to emit a tiny red light that blinked non-stop, indicating that the recording had started. ‘’did you know the victim?’’

you nodded. he let out an impatient sigh, shaking his head.

‘’words. we're recording.’’ he said in a firm tone, pointing to the recorder. you mentally cursed yourself for having forgotten that detail. he was intimidating you more than you would have liked.

‘’yes, sir.’’ you answered loudly, hearing him hum, writing it down on the interrogation sheet.

‘’was she your friend?’’

‘’college classmate.’’ you answered, eyeing him up and down. you couldn’t help it. cops in general were hot, but this investigator was something else.

‘’were you very close?’’ he continued asking, his eyes fixed on you, looking for some kind of hesitation.

‘’not really. we went out for drinks every now and then.’’ you answered with a slight shrug. ‘’on saturday it wouldn't be any different.’’

‘’any particular reason for drinking on saturday?’’ he asked, pretending he didn't notice you devouring him with your eyes. ‘’birthday, celebration...?’’

‘’good grades.’’ you answered. he raised his eyebrows, not writing down the information because he didn't think it was that important.

‘’tell me about this pub you guys went to on saturday.’’ he prompted, crossing his arms and leaning his weight on the back of the chair.

‘’we used to go to this pub almost always. it's good and cheap. they serve great drinks there and the fries are made fresh.’’ you answered, seeing that he hadn't written anything down in his notebook, since he didn't think it was important yet.

‘’when you guys went out, was it always the two of you or did someone else go with you?’’ he asked, fiddling with the pen between his fingers. there was no way that even this was sexy.

‘’most of the time it was just me and her. some college friends would go with us too, but not always. on saturday, a friend of mine had gone with us.’’

‘’and where was she when it all happened?’’ he sat up straight in his chair, ready to write it down.

‘’fucking the security guard in the bathroom.’’ you answered. he was speechless for a few seconds, raising his eyebrows. you knew it was very blunt of you, but you knew you couldn't lie. ‘’her words.’’

‘’right. i think we can leave that part out of the interrogation.’’ he muttered, clearing his throat. ‘’tell me how it all happened. where you were, how you got there and what you saw.’’

you took a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts. it wasn't a memory you liked to keep and much less one you would like to recall out loud. you clenched your fists a little, becoming merely restless.

‘’take your time.’’ he said when he realized you had been silent for too long.

you sighed, chewing your gum for a few seconds before starting to speak. ‘’i was already a bit tipsy. i had had about 4 shots. maybe 5. she told me she was going to smoke and left through the back door. i stayed at the bar.’’ you said slowly, especially since he was writing it down quickly. his writing was a bit sloppy, but it was enough to understand. i mean, at least he understood. ‘’at a certain point i decided to leave too. i wasn't feeling well and the bathrooms were too far away.’’

‘’how long between her leaving and you leaving too?’’ he asked you. you blinked a few times, you realized you were too distracted by how his body was leaning over the table.

you scoffed, trying to think. ‘’i don't know... maybe 10 minutes. i wasn't looking at the clock.’’ you replied and he nodded, gesturing for you to continue. ‘’so i went out the back door and…’’ you stopped. ‘’can't remember vividly.’’

he looked at you, squinting his caramel eyes. you remembered, of course. you remembered enough. and he knew it.

‘’c'mon. tell me what you know. i promise if you tell me we'll finish before 10pm.’’ he drawled a little. it strangely gave you chills. you chewed your gum, blowing air into it, the sound of it popping echoing through the silent room. so silent that you could even hear the blood running through your veins as your heart beat faster.

the investigator clenched his jaw, pressing the recorder button to pause the recording, clasping his two hands together, resting his forearms on the desk, leaning closer to you. fuck, he was so pretty up close. you could even see a mole in the lower left corner below his mouth.

‘’what do you want?’’ he questioned.

‘’what do you have to offer me, investigator?’’ you asked back, your shoed foot climbing up his leg. his fingers clenched against each other subtly at your tone.

he stood up, firm footsteps walking across the room towards the door. he opened it, sticking his head out and looking down the hallway from one end to the other, making sure there was no one there. the police station was almost always empty at this time. almost everyone was having dinner.

he closed the door again, locking it. the clicking sound made your heart beat faster and your mouth went dry.

‘’let's make a deal, miss.’’ he urged behind you, his big hand flying to your shoulder, your eyes widened at the firm contact. he bent over, his head right above your shoulder, his face close to yours. ‘’i'll give you what you want as long as you tell me what you know i need to know. deal?’’

oh, please. you didn't even need to answer. your cunt throbbed at the single thought.

‘’deal.’’ you answered, glancing at him, catching his smirk in the corner of your eye.

‘’sit down at the desk.’’ he commanded, straightening his posture and carefully removing his utility belt, leaving it hanging over the back of the chair as you stood up.

‘’the papers.’’ you pointed to the papers spread out on the metal table.

‘’fuck the papers. i told you to sit down.’’ he said rudely, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows. rough. you liked it.

you sat down on the table before he could lose his patience, your jeans were crumpling the papers under your ass, but he didn't care about that, and neither should you. he hurried to reach for the button on your pants, pulling the zipper down.

‘’not even a little kiss to warm up?’’ you teased him. he narrowed his eyes on you.

‘’no. you're asking too much.’’ he said and you giggled as he roughly pulled your jeans down along with your panties, going down to your ankles, where he pulled only the left side, keeping your pants and panties hanging by your right heel.

‘’you're going to eat me out and you're telling me that a little kiss is too much?’’ you questioned as you watched him getting down on his knees in front of you, the sight alone already making your cunt even wetter.

‘’the bones of the trade.’’ he grunted, spreading your legs without any delicacy, as if he was impatient and in a hurry. but oh, he couldn't help but lick his lips at the sight of your glistening pussy right before his eyes, so pretty and ready for him. he looked up at you for a split second. ‘’any particular reason for being like this?’’ he asked, teasing you for the first time.

‘’i have a thing for investigators.’’ you joked, already feeling his hot breath ghosting over your sensitive skin, making your cunt pulse in reflex. he took the chewed gum out of his mouth, sticking it under the table.

‘’guess i'm lucky.’’ he shot back, moving his hands to your inner thighs, his rough and calloused fingers digging into your skin, almost leaving marks because of how little delicacy he was using. ‘’now tell me what you know.’’

before you could even begin, his tongue slowly runs itself against your pulsing clit, making your eyes gradually roll to the back of your head. he licked again, this time starting from the bottom, collecting a stripe on his tongue, swallowing his own grunt for doing so.

''w-where do i start?'' you asked after recovering from that first contact.

''you left the bar through the back door.'' he recalled, his mouth going back to your pussy, his tongue swirling around your entrance, collecting your slimy juices, lapping his wet muscle over your folds like he meant it.

oh, this is going to be harder than you thought.

‘’i left the bar, they were on the dark side. the lamp was broken and i couldn't see very well.’’ you kept going, your eyes almost closing as he was sucking against your folds, the squelches were sloppy and your both hands grabbed the edges of the cold desk, grounding yourself as he delved into your pussy, licking and sucking you like your pussy was an orange, where he could smear himself with your sweet wetness. ‘’i- i was so fucking drunk and…’’ he hummed against your throbbing cunt, his eyes and ears on you the whole time, multitasking between eating you out and continuing with the interrogation to get more information.

‘’what did he use to strangle her?’’ he asked, his breath coming out in hot puffs, his hot mouth rising to suck your clit, shoving two fingers inside your cunt. his long and slender fingers scissored you, stretching you out, exploring your gummy walls and making you whine.

‘’hands.’’ you panted, your head falling back, all your eyes could see was the white light from the interrogation room ceiling.

‘’hands.’’ he repeated, curling his fingers inside you, reaching the caves of your walls and hitting spots you didn't even know could be located, feeling the clenching motion around them. ‘’were they saying something?’’

‘’i couldn't hear, i swear…’’ you babbled, feeling him giving sweet kisses all over your pussy while his fingers were buried in you up to the knuckles, moving in and out, making a squishy sound. he made a disappointed face, but didn't stop what he was doing.

‘’he saw you?’’ he asked. you nodded. you remembered the man looking at you that night. his piercing eyes staring into your soul. you didn't even know how you were still alive. ‘’do you think there's a reason he didn't kill you too?’’

‘’i think it's because i’m hot.’’ you hissed as he slapped your pussy sharply. you were being too bold for your own good.

‘’maybe you're right.’’ he answered, you could even feel that annoying smile against your pussy as he slurps everywhere, making sure no spot goes untouched as his protruding nose rubbed against your clit.

oh, you almost smiled. he thinks you're hot too.

you're so wet and so sensitive now, soaking not only his mouth but also his chin. but damn, that man was an eater. you couldn't control yourself, almost closing your trembling legs around his head as his fingers pumped inside your pussy with purpose. your hand moved from behind to hold his head, needing to keep him close as you're approaching your climax.

‘’and what did you do after he strangled her?’’ he asked, moving his mouth away a little, his fingers never stopping their restless movements, feeling that your cunt was coating them so much at this point.

‘’i threw up.’’ you answered honestly. his mouth and nose twitched a bit.

‘’understandable. what was he like? i know you saw him.’’ his tepid breath hitted your fevered skin.

‘’m-maybe i saw him.’’ you babble out. he rolled his eyes, realizing he needed to change his strategy.

without any warning, he pulled away from your pussy, pulling his fingers from your gaping and aching hole. you looked at him, you were close, so close...

turner wiped his wet face with the back of his hand, standing up again.

‘’what was our deal?’’ he asked, placing both his hands on the table, caging you. he was impatient. ‘’i'll give you the what you want and you give me what i want.’’

‘’i told you what i knew.’’ you shrugged nonchalantly.

‘’fucking brat.’’ he growled, running his hand through his hair, combing back. he took a deep breath, pulling you from the table and making you stand, your weak knees almost gave out, but you managed to balance yourself only for him to turn you around and push you against the table, forcing you to bend down.

you let out a gasp at his attitude. his hand crept along the curve of your ass in a strangely delicate way.

‘’change of plans.’’ he announced, the sound of him unbuttoning his own pants ringing through your ears like a sweet melody. ‘’take this notebook and this pen.’’ he said, referring to the small notebook and pen he was using. your eager hands reached out to grab it. ‘’you will write down all of his characteristics that you remember on this sheet of paper while i fuck you. is that enough for you?’’

his words hit you harder than expected. you nearly convulsed at the feeling of his reddened tip nudging your entrance.

‘’fucking answer me.’’ he growled, gripping the back of your head hard. you nodded quickly. he pressed your face against the papers on the table, your eyes glanced at him behind you, his thick cock threatening your entrance the whole time. ‘’words.’’

‘’yes, yes, i get it.’’ you answered almost breathlessly.

taking a deep and sharp breath, he buried himself inside you, a high-pitched moan escaping your lips as your toes curled and your hands twitched. he bottomed out, watching how your pussy swallowed his cock with greed. he forced himself to look away. god, he was already hard since he saw your pussy, when he ate you out then... he almost came in his pants. if he gives in a little more, he might explode cum inside you in the blink of an eye.

‘’what are you waiting for? write it down right now.’’ he ordered, his hand slapping you hard on the ass, watching it jiggle and you winced, feeling it sting like a painful insect bite.

‘’fuck, you're so deep…’’ you cried out, you could feel his tip poking your cervix. he was indeed balls deep inside your cunt, forcing the goppy insides of your cunt to accommodate him.

‘’stop complaining. you asked for it.’’ he grunts as his rhythm begins to become restless, his hips snapping against your ass, hitting you deep and raw. so dirty and raw. yes, you definitely asked for it.

he was taking you so hard, almost as if no thought was going through his head while he was pumping into you, making you feel full of his big, veiny cock. trembling, your hand began to write. your handwriting was almost a scrawl, you could barely stand and the desk was shaking too much with his incessant rhythm.

‘’tall. good girl. how tall are we talking?’’ he hummed in your ear, seeing what you were writing.

‘’mmm i think 6 feet tall…’’ you replied, a pathetic moan leaving your lips as he started to roll his hips against you.

‘’write it down.’’ he tapped the notebook with his index finger.

you were so drunk, your body was practically stretched out on the table, but you were determined to write down everything you remembered about that man. god, you even felt guilty because your colleague had to be strangled for you to be there, but it was so good, he was fucking you so good, so hard and deep.

he couldn't say he was hating it. oh, quite the opposite. he was loving feeling your cunt gaping out around him. he was so thick, the stretch making your mouth water and your knees buckle as your tongue lolled out.

“tall, buzz cut, green eyes, scar on the cheek and tattoo on the hand. that's because you didn't remember, hm?” he groaned hoarsely into your ear, smirking and slowing down his movements, moving as slow as a turtle now. “was that all you needed? for me to fuck you to the hilt? what do you think your colleague would think about this? you're so fucking selfish.”

“shut up.” you gulped, feeling his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he slammed back into your pussy again and again.

“tsk tsk, don't you dare to talk to me like that." he scolded you, his hand returning to your head, pressing your skull against the table, you're already drooling over the papers, but you loved it. he was right, you're selfish.

“or what?” you asked, feeling the pressure in your bones like he was smashing your head at that desk. worse than that, he was practically skinning your pussy, it was getting sore, swollen, it burned like it was getting raw.

“or you'll spend the night in a cell to learn to respect authority. sound good?” he panted in your ear, closing his fist around your hair, twisting it and forcing you to raise your head to look at him. 

“will you pay me a visit in the early hours of the morning?” you asked, a wicked smile playing at your lips. he almost smiled. damn, you're crazy. and in a way it made his cock throb.

“maybe. what was that tattoo on his hand? promise, that's all i need and i'll make you cum.” he tilted his head, his hand grabbed your buttocks tightly, pushing it to the side so he could look and see how his cock was already coated with a white liquid from the friction. “milking my cock already.” he scoffed, giving you another firm slap on your ass cheek.

“i-it was a snake. a snake.” you cried, coaxing a groan from the back of his throat, his pace quickening as his smile widened. the scent of sex surrounding you both and permeating the interrogation room. 

“mhmm, good girl. well, you were actually useful to me.” he said in a tone of mere disdain, deep down a bit of desire dripping into his voice as he pounded into you restlessly. the way he said it did things to you, and soon you were collapsing on his cock, your cunt pulsing and squeezing him like a vice. 

he forced himself to pull out of you. of course, he wasn't using a condom, he would never risk it. he watched with wide and attentive eyes while you were reduced to a mess, your cunt gaped, oozing arousal, a strong pink hue predominated, demonstrating how abused your hole was because of him.

turner looked down at his cock, it was so hard that it was painful the veins were much more marked and the reddened tip was leaking precum, he needed to release it somehow. he grunted, tucking his cock back into his pants and zipping up. he didn't ask if you were okay. he knew you were. 

he cleared his throat, watching you collapse into the chair behind you. you were breathless and blissed out with all that happened.

it took a while before you could put on your jeans, you felt like you were completely boneless now, every part of your body was exhausted and begged for bed and two muscle relaxant capsules. 

“alright, the interrogation is over, you can leave.” he said to you, sitting back down in his chair, taking a sip of the coffee that was still warm. simple as that. you weren't expecting more, actually. 

you held your purse, feeling a pain in your cervix that you knew would last a couple of days, but it was worth it. you wiped your face, wiping away the sweat and fixing your hair so it didn't look like you were hit by a bus.

“i think he was a drug dealer.” you said, stopping at your tracks. "that area has a lot of them and she wasn't a saint either. but she was a nice person.” 

the investigator nodded, noticing the hint of resignation in your voice. that was all he needed to know, actually. the police didn't get too involved in cases involving drug trafficking. society had its laws and they had theirs. the police didn't have much power in that regard — in fact, they didn't want to fight. what would the militia be without drug trafficking, by the way?

“thanks for your cooperation.” he replied. you nodded, pressing your swollen lips against each other, forming a thin line. “there will be a vehicle with two cops outside to take you home safely.”

“is that all? i mean if you need anything else…”

he interrupted you. “i know. i have everything about you here.” he tapped the sheet with your file. “besides, i'm an investigator. i will find you.”

you could see the shadow of a smile forming at the corner of his lips. but you weren't sure. he was so hard to read. you nodded, excusing yourself and walked to the door, unlocking it and leaving the interrogation room without looking back. 

turner spent a good few seconds staring blankly at the closed black door. he didn't know what he was thinking exactly. it wasn't like he fucked every witness he questioned. but he didn't regret it either. 

he shook his head, collecting all the paperwork again, seeing that you had drooled over some of it, smudging the written words with printer ink. he didn't care. it wasn't like this investigation was going to go anywhere. he carefully placed all the papers in the file folder, turning off the recorder. 

his body relaxed a little in the chair, his head fell back and he closed his eyes, rubbing his closed eyelids hard with the thumb and index finger of his left hand. your moans were still echoing through his head. he had to admit, he liked you. 

his cock throbbed again at the thought of you, he had almost forgotten about his own problem now. he would have to spend a few minutes fucking his fist in his office to get some relief.

before he got up from his chair to leave the interrogation room, he picked up the small notebook, looking at what you wrote. his eyes rested on your handwriting before he closed it and picked up the pen, starting to scribble on the investigation update sheet on the cover of the brown file.

#case 521 — tori baker

status: closed…?

a/n: i shoud be working rn...

taglist: @thenightslikeawhirlwind, @goblinontour, @yourstartreatment

(if there are more people who asked to be on the taglist, please enlighten me again, i must have forgotten to include :x)

[libby-for-life]

So, can you do a sick one-shot with Adam and Lucifer? Maybe Adam has a fever and Lucifer reluctantly takes care of him. But then he starts to hallucinate things. Stuff that makes Lucifer question things about what he believes.

Oh? A challenge, hu? Since you didn't specify if this was my version of Adamsapple, I'm just going to assume that this is more traditional Adamsapple and go from there.

Sinner!Adam under contract with Lucifer.

Lucifer stood before Charlie with a sigh, feeling irritated. "Are you telling me that there isn't anyone else who can take care of him? I don't have time to deal with a whiney brat who is probably faking all this just to get attention," he grumbled. The devil was not convinced that Adam was genuinely sick. He wouldn't put it past him to fake it to receive special treatment.

Charlie replied, "Normally, I would take care of it, but I have a lot of paperwork to deal with." She gestured towards her desk, which was piled high with papers, making Lucifer wince. "Vaggie is busy with Niffty, Angel Dust and Husk are working, and Alastor is not an... option."

Lucifer shivered at the thought of Alastor taking care of Adam. The devil was under contract to protect the idiot from harm, but it would end badly for Adam if Alastor was involved. "Alright, I'll do it," he said, resigned.

"Thank you, Dad!" Charlie beamed at him, making him feel a little better. Teleporting to Adam's room, Lucifer hoped to catch him in the act of faking it but found himself in a dark room with the curtains drawn. The only thing he could see was a lump on Adam's bed.

Frustrated, the devil snapped his fingers, and the lights turned on. Adam let out a whimper, making Lucifer roll his eyes. "Oh, stop it. Nobody is buying this pity act," he said sternly.

When he got no reply, he growled again, "The hard way it is then." He stomped over to the sinner's bed and ripped the blankets off him. "Get up now!" Lucifer was done playing games. If Adam was going to continue acting this way, he didn't mind using force to beat some sense into him.

However, to his surprise, Adam didn't yell, swear, or even glare at him. Instead, he let out another whimper. This time, Lucifer actually looked at Adam and saw just how different he looked. His gray skin had an ashy color, his breath was labored, and his shirt was missing, revealing how sweaty he was. It was clear that Adam was genuinely sick.

Lucifer felt slightly guilty for making Adam uncomfortable when it was clear he was miserable with a fever.

Placing a hand on the sinner's forehead, he hissed at the heat. "Oh, you are sick, aren't you?" He murmured. "Alright, let's sit you up."

Soon, Adam was propped up on pillows, wrapped up in comfortable blankets, and looking at Lucifer with dazed eyes. The devil knew that the demon wasn't truly seeing him due to his sickness.

Gently draping a cool cloth onto Adam's forehead, he noticed how the sinner's eyes followed his every move.

"You're so beautiful...." Adam slurred.

Lucifer froze and looked at him confused. "Hu?" He must've been really out of it if he was complimenting him.

"Beautiful...so beautiful. I can see why she left me...I didn't stand a chance."

Lucifer grimaced when he realized that Adam must've been talking about Eden. Whether it was Eve or Lilith he was referring to was still being questioned in Lucifer's mind.

"Let's not waste your energy." Lucifer finally said.

Adam whimpered again but he continued talking. "Lilith was beautiful too...but she didn't like me...why did she not like me?"

"Maybe because you were a narcissistic dick who wanted to control her?" Lucifer said with a glare. Any kind of sympathy he had for the sinner was gone. How could Adam even ask that?!

Adam shook his head, clearly too out of it to understand that the devil was insulting him. "That's not what she said..." He slurred out. A look of sadness came over Adam and, to Lucifer's growing discomfort, looked like he was going to cry.

"She told me I was disgusting...that she didn't want to stand next to someone so ugly." Lucifer was too stunned to speak. What?

"She didn't like me talking. I talk too much. She liked to gag me when she couldn't stand the noise. It hurt...." Adam was now crying, big tears rolling down his chubby cheeks.

"Why didn't you fight back?" Lucifer immediately asked. If he hated how Lilith treated him, especially if it hurt, then why didn't he make her stop? Adam certainly never backed down from a fight. In fact, he was usually starting them.

"I wanted her to like me..." Adam replied with a groan. His breathing seemed labored. "If I did what she wanted...then she'll like me....even if it hurt. Even if it made me cry." Adam furrowed his eyebrows, his hazy eyes looking into the distance. "No...she didn't like me crying. She said it was annoying and ugly so I don't do it anymore." It was ironic with the tears streaming down his face.

Adam turned his golden eyes to the devil who flinched at the devastating but resigned look on his face. "I guess I didn't do it good enough...she found someone better...someone smarter...."

A large hand cupped Lucifer's cheek. "Who can compete with angels?" And then he passed out. Lucifer didn't know that he was holding his breath until he started gasping. What the fuck?

[allmcl]

WICKED GAME │ Castiel Veilmont.

A quiet afternoon with your boyfriend couldn't seem like a better plan. But when two people are ridiculously in love, they always find something ridiculously more romantic to do.

pairing. castiel veilmont x f!reader

genre. fluff, suggestive.

setting. established relatonship, both are aged up.

content warning. kissing maybe? and castiel loves you too much :( (that needs to be a warning)

author’s note. im kinda nervous to post this 😭, pls tell me if you liked it, enjoy!!

The day was horrible, and all I wanted was to return to the comfort of my room and never leave. But since I discovered the comfort of being with Castiel in his house, simply talking about everything, resting, or any relaxing activity, I understood that there was nothing better than that.

"Feel better?" Castiel asked in a raspy voice, as if he had just woken up.

His finger gently tracing the curve of my back under my shirt sends an electrifying spark through my body. "A lot." I snuggle a little closer to him.

"I'll beat whoever hurted you." Castiel murmured.

I laughed. "You won't."

"Well, not if you don't tell me what happened."

I grimace. "It's not that important, seriously."

"If it concerns you, it's important to me." I don't see his face but I'm sure he's already frowning.

I managed to lean on him and stretch out a little and get a better look. I moved a little closer and my fingers stayed busy untangling the strands that fell into his eyes gray eyes, shining under the sunlight. "You look very handsome." The compliment slips from my mouth before I can think.

Castiel pauses for a second. "Do not change the subject." I would have believed him right if it weren't for the way his ears reddened and his expression relaxed.

"I'm serious." With the golden light from the window illuminating his features, and giving an even brighter shine to the red of his hair, I dare to say that I have rarely seen him so angelic.

He complains. "I knew you were obsessed with me, but it's starting to get embarrassing." Finally his smile escaped.

I rolled my eyes. "Wathever you say..."

A few minutes of silence were enough for the fatigue to dissipate a little. Between talks, Castiel and I were fully up and we were talking about everything and nothing, as usual. At this point in the afternoon, the radiant glow of the sun indicated that it was about to set.

With his eyes still closed, Castiel spoke. "I think about you a lot when I listen to music."

The idea took me by surprise and I couldn't help but raise my eyebrows in surprise.

"Oh yeah?" I smiled.

"It's a slow song."

"I thought you only listened to rock bands."

I have shrugged. "Not since I've known you." He confessed and seemed to avoid looking at me for a couple of seconds.

I stretched a little closer to him. "Can I hear it?"

Castiel seemed to hesitate for a moment, but soon agreed. He shyly reached over to turn on a music player and the song began to play. I know it! If I remember correctly, I may have mentioned to him at some point that it was my favorite. "Wicked games" started playing, and I couldn't help but get carried away by the melody.

"Come on!" I said, and got up from the bed. "Dance with me!"

Castiel shot me a horrified look before starting to complain. I slowly started dancing, and I offered him my hand to take, but he seemed prettysure that he wasn't planning on dancing with me.

"Please.." I wishpered.

Castiel could never resist that, so I noticed how he sighed heavily and barely stood up from the bed to join me. Although at first his movements were a little reluctant, he began to play along when I took him by the hands. We intertwined our fingers and I noticed how his grip was so delicate, but still firm.

The now dimly lit room gave everything a comfortable, homely look, and I felt like the time was frozen, and, for a brief moment, it was just the two of us. Castiel didn't dare say anything, but I could tell he was enjoying it too from the way he was watching me. His eyes shine and I can't tell if it's because of the light or some other reason.

"I wouldn't do this if it weren't for you." He reproached with a red face. I smiled and stood on tiptoe to kiss him.

Although I expected the same gentleness with which he held me, Castiel caught me off guard and instead grabbed me by the waist tightly, pulling me against him. Our bodies continued to move to the music, only this time we were melted into each other. The strong smell of his cologne intoxicated me, and his body heat relaxed me. His lips kissed mine a little too roughly, but he always did it that way.

His hands caressed from the curve of my waist to my back and higher with constancy and softness, just like the gentle swaying of our bodies.

"It´s nice to have you close..." I quietly whisper, breaking the kiss for just a few seconds.

In response, I feel a warm kiss on the crown of my head. Being so tall, he always used to do that instead of kissing my cheek. My body gives up a little, and I lean against his chest. The song is still playing in the background, and I feel how his chest vibrates while he hums to the rymth of the song.

"This…is nice" He said softly. "Even if it's ridiculously romantic."

I smiled against him, and from the way he pulled me closer, I knew he had noticed. I always knew Castiel wasn't that good with words. But he made an effort for me.

And that was enough.

©allmcl !

[jabberwocky-warrior]

Silver and lilia angst

[general lifespan angst/ hurt-comfort] [Diasomnia Chapter Spoilers] [The end is kinda rushed] [Sebek and Malleus mentioned] [not edited] (lrt I was literally coming on tumblr to post this and saw this post that touches on the same thing)

Lilia is 700 and lets say he has a good 100yrs left in his life. He would still outlive silver.

To make it more angsty, lilia doesnt realize he will outlive him. he's thinking like a fae; 100 years is a short time to them. he hates the idea of his boys watching him slowly get weaker as his age catches up to him. He doesn't want his boys to see the man they admire for his strength lose said strength.

Silver already knows his family will outlive him. Not to say, he's accepted it but he knows it. He knows malleus will look the same while he is old and gray. He knows Sebek will still be standing guard for Malleus when he's retired. Silver knew these things like they were facts. But when it came to Lilia Silver wasn't sure.

Silver played with the idea of many different futures with his father.

Would his father take care of him? Would they live in their little cottage together like they do know? Sitting around the fireplace, with his father reminiscing about the past. Walking around the small path in the forest, the same route he's walked since he was little. Would they sit together on that old bench his dad made when he was little to watch the birds together?

That day at the dorm when Lilia said he was leaving, silver didn't think about it much. His father had gone on trips throughout his life and had always come back.

It wasn't until Lilia talked about losing his magic that Silver realized his father wasn't planning to come back. Though he would never say it out loud, he was angry. His father was leaving him. Leaving him before he graduated. Before he was knighted.

Malleus takes it worse. Overbloting before Silver can sit in his anger anymore. Silver fights. Fights for his family. For his father. And for his surrogate brother.

When all is said and done, Malleus is returned to normal. Lilia and Mallues have a heart-to-heart. But when they turn and look at silver, he breaks. He hides nothing.

Sebek isn't surprised by the lifespan. He's known Silver would pass before him since they began training together. But Malleus and Lilia are. They look at him wide-eyed at the realization Lilia would outlive him.

Malleus seems to go through a few stages of grief. But Lilia looks numb. His eyes are far away. Lilia's plan was to travel the world but to return when he got closer to the end. He knows what it's like to not have a body to bury. He never wanted to put Malleus and Silver through that.

But now as he looks at his beautiful son that helped him heal from his past. The son he learned how to clean a baby bottle for. His baby boy would have been dead or dying by the time he came back. He was so caught up in not wanting his sons to see him get weaker, he never stopped to think about what he would miss while gone.

He already knew he'd miss his graduation and his knighting. but he never thought about Silver's first love and first heartbreak. If Silver had a wedding or a child.

In that small moment, everything he would miss came flashing through his head.

Shaking his head and grabbing Silver's arm, Lilia pulled his son into his embrace. Neither of them say anything as they hold each other. Slowly they moved to the ground still holding each other. Lilia pulled Malleus down to join them. Sebek was pulled into the embrace soon after.

If Silver started crying no one mentioned it. If they all stayed on the floor holding each other for a few hours, no one mentioned that either.

~~~

In the end, Lilia stuck around. He still went traveling but only for a week to months at a time. A better deal than him disappearing for years at a time.

[storytowrite]

|You will always be mine ~ Lee Minho series|

PART 4

Paring: Minho x Y/N

Genre: smut, angst, university au

Word count: 1588

Warnings: sex, 18+, Minho is a psycho, dom!Minho, sub!reader, abuse, slight BDSM, kidnapping, violence, age gap, Minho is an university professor, Y/N can be hurt physically (and mentally too I guess).

Synopsis: Who knew that accidental fuck in the club bathroom with a handsome man will bring you to a lot of unexpected events.

Author's note: I kept this series for a really long time not sure if I want to post it or not, but I decided to do it anyway, so I hope you'll like it.

——————————

Time passed quickly. After returning home, she didn't know what to do with herself. You were curious about what your new lecturer had come up with, but you were also afraid that someone would catch you. You knew that sooner or later the affair with your teacher would come to light, although you hoped it would happen later rather than sooner. 

Around eight o'clock in the evening you started getting ready for the meeting. You took a quick shower and put on a red lingerie set. You were to appear at his place after ten o'clock. You checked his address on the Internet. It turned out that Minho didn't live that far from your apartment. All you had to do was take a two-stop bus ride and you'd be there. As long as the bus wasn't late....

You put on black high-waisted pants and a plain white T-shirt. You improved your delicate makeup and, accentuating your lips with red lip gloss, you smiled at your reflection in the mirror. You were ready. On your way out, you picked up your black jacket and went to meet your teacher. 

“Should I take a gift with me?” You asked yourself. “But what does he like...?” 

You began to wonder. You didn't really know anything about him. What did he like? What did he not like? How old was he? Did he live alone? Did he have a wife? A child? Nooo, since he invited you, he must have lived alone. A lot of questions started swirling in your head. You sighed heavily. 

You glanced at your watch - you should have left by now. You took a bottle of red wine from the bar in the living room and put it in your purse. On your way out of the apartment you also took an umbrella, in case it was going to rain when you got home in the morning. You locked the door and headed for the bus stop. 

It was already dark all around, and there were few cars on the street. You waited impatiently for the bus, which was late as usual. You glanced nervously at your watch.  Should I text him? You asked yourself in your mind. No... I'll be with him soon... You began to think. 

Your pondering did not last long. The bus arrived. You got on it and headed towards your lecturer's house. Moments later you were standing in front of the door to his apartment. You rang the bell and waited. After a while, the door to the apartment opened. 

Lee Minho stood before you, wrapped in a white towel around his waist. A few more drops of water dripped from his damp hair. Your gaze followed one that ran down his entire torso, stopping only at the edge of the towel. A blush appeared on your cheeks, and you swallowed your saliva and bit your lip slightly. Minho smiled gently at this sight. 

“Hi kitten.” He said in a slightly more sensual tone. “I was expecting you a little earlier... would you like to come in?” He moved over and let you in. 

“Ekhm, yes... sorry the bus was late.” You replied, to which the man nodded. “I brought wine, I don't know if you like it, but I thought... ”

“That we could drink it together? Great idea!” He interrupted you in half a word and took the bottle from you. “Make yourself comfortable sunshine, I'll get back to you in a minute.” He added and disappeared into the bedroom. 

You had a moment to look around his apartment. The living room was connected to the kitchen. Minho apparently liked the open space. The dark furniture contrasted perfectly with the gray walls. The kitchen was decorated in a modern way, with only a bar separating it from the living room. In the corner of the living room you noticed a winding staircase that led to something, like an entresol. The corridor where you were standing also led to the room where Minho had probably disappeared and the bathroom, which was located right next door. 

You looked inside. You were struck by a pleasant wave of heat, following Minho's recent shower. You looked around the interior. Like the living room, the bathroom decor was rather dark. A large bathtub, which could easily fit two people, stood on a delicate platform against one of the walls. On the opposite wall was a large, glass-enclosed shower, and in the middle was a large countertop constructed of black marble, with a built-in sink. Above the countertop hung a huge mirror, covering the entire wall with its surface. 

“Wow...” You let out. Minho's bathroom could definitely accommodate your entire bedroom. 

“Why did I know you would be right here?” You heard his voice behind you. You jumped up, slightly frightened, and turned toward him. He was standing leaning against the doorframe, with his arms folded across his chest. He was smiling sassily at you. “Come on kitten, let's drink some wine.” He added and winked at you. Without a word, you moved behind him, watching as the white shirt he had to throw on when he entered the next room framed his muscles and the black pants highlighted his buttocks. 

“You have a nice apartment.” You said, standing at the kitchen counter and watching Minho open a bottle of wine and pour the drink into glasses. “Did you decorate it yourself?” 

“Mhm, I actually did everything myself.” He admitted handing you a glass. “I'm glad you like it.” 

“It's so... elegant. And big, definitely bigger than mine.” You said and took a sip of wine. The alcohol warmed your throat pleasantly. 

“I must come to you one day and judge for myself.” He smiled slightly at you. “Have you seen my hot tub on the balcony?”

“You have a hot tub?” You grinned. “I didn't know lecturers earned that much.” You added, then shot yourself a mental slap. Minho laughed quietly.

“I'm not just a lecturer, sunshine.” He said amused. “I'm involved in many things. I invest a lot in new projects and I am the main patron of an art gallery in the city center. I lecture rather out of boredom...”

“Really?” You blinked. “Wow, you're a really busy guy.”

“You don't even know how much...” Minho replied, slightly amused by your reaction. “Shall we sit down?” He suggested and went to the living room, where he set his wine glass down on the glass coffee table, then sat down on the leather couch in a gentle spread. 

You looked up at him, blushing. You were turned on by the sight of a man, and he didn't even do anything like that. You sipped your wine again, hoping that it would somehow make your cheeks return to their normal color. 

“”Come up to me.“” Said Minho suddenly, watching you and your every move like a hungry tiger. His voice was warm, yet firm. You obeyed and approached him. You stood right in front of him. Minho smiled slightly. “Sit down.” He added in the same tone, looking down at his thighs. You struggled with your thoughts for a moment, but after a moment's consideration, you sat on his lap with your arms around him. You rested one hand on his shoulder and held a wine glass in the other. “Good girl.” The man complimented you and looked into your eyes. “Tell me, what do you desire?” 

“I...” You were caught off guard by this question. You didn't know what to do. Minho's voice worked on you like a magnet. His tone hypnotized you to the point that all you wanted was to follow his instructions. 

“You?” He asked, slightly impatient. His hands landed on your hips. With his thumbs, he gently rolled circles on your skin. His brown eyes scowled at you with their gaze. 

“I want you.” You said quietly, barely audible. But he heard. He smiled slightly and leaned in gently, causing a slight friction between your bodies. His one hand slid under your shirt. 

“You already have me.” He whispered in your ear, biting lightly on its lobe. Then he moved his lips over your jaw and slid down to your neck. He glided along your neck slowly. His velvety lips barely touched your skin, thus making you red hot. You let out a quiet moan when he encountered the most sensitive spot on your neck. The grip on your body strengthened slightly, and Minho bit the spot that caused you to make such a sweet sound to his ears. He sucked your skin, and you moaned again, a little louder this time, squeezing his shoulder with your hand.

After a short while, Minho moved away from your neck, but continued to hold you tightly. He smiled slightly, admiring the red mark that had begun to form on your skin. He marked you. You looked at him, with slightly misty eyes. 

“”Will you stay the night?” He asked suddenly, seemingly carelessly. 

“I don't have any stuff... Plus I have class tomorrow...” You replied, not yet fully aware.

“That's okay, sunshine, I'll give you one of my shirts, although believe me, you won't need clothes today.” He replied, looking straight into your eyes. “And as for classes, I guess nothing will happen if you miss a day or two, right?”

“... Right.” You replied quietly admitting he was right. “I'll stay the night...” You added after a while with a slight smile. 

“Great!” Minho smiled.  Great... You thought. It's going to be a long night..

——————————

<- Part 3 | Part 5 ->

-> Series Masterlist

Taglist: @yaorzu-blog, @iovecb97, @hpnsfwaddict, @syedazarintasnim

[rjthirsty]

Bound Forever

Gilbert/Reader Roderic/Reader

Words: 2k

CW: Major Character Death. Angst. Tragedy. Grief. Smut. Route Spoilers.

A/N: @scummy-writes did a piece on Gilbert dying called Normalcy Bias that inspired this piece. We've spoken at length about our Gil headcanons, and I admire her as a writer, so I wanted to give myself a chance to mimic the depth of emotion I read in her works. I'm honestly hoping to cause some tears with this.

Gilbert had disappeared again.

It was always terrifying when he vanished, because you knew the only reason he had for leaving without saying a word - he was unwell. Like a wounded or sick animal, Gil removed himself from the palace to find a place he could rest until either he felt better or he perished. Thankfully he had always returned, but you still hated every time he left, feeling helpless and worried sick that you might not see him again.

Walter knew before you did. He always knew when Gil left, but he wasn't allowed to say anything. That, in itself, was a giveaway on why you couldn't find your husband. Just looking at Walter these days answered the question for you since you had danced this routine enough times to know when Gil had told him to keep things from you. Today, Walter refused to make eye contact with you when you visited his office in the medical ward, pretending like he didn't see you enter. You didn't even need to ask. That was enough.

Roderic knew, though he didn't know where Gil ran off to, or even if it was the same location each time. Walter was likely the only one who truly knew where Gil was. Roderic was painfully aware whenever Gilbert disappeared, scared that his master - his friend - would never return. Since you became a part of their lives, Roderic would stay with you on those long days that Gil vanished and the two of you would hold hands and try to keep each other's minds off the possibility. Neither of you wanted to voice that possibility.

As night fell, the black castle felt darker and more hollow without Gilbert's presence. Alone in your shared room, you restlessly waited for your husband's return. Some absences would span a few days, some only a few hours. Today turned to tomorrow, and a sleepless night passed you by with still no word from him.

Another day with Roderic for company. Another attempt to keep your thoughts from spiraling to the worst case. Perhaps baking would help. Gil could return to an abundance of sweets and maybe, just maybe he'll understand how hard it is for you when he goes off like this.

Another dusk leaving you alone with your fears for company in your shared room. Another sleepless night. Another morning that looks more gray than the previous. Three days was the longest he had ever spent away. It had only been two. There was still hope he would return, though that hope was a candle in the fury of a storm right now, barely keeping lit.

“You need to sleep.” Walter scolded.

“I want to see him as soon as he comes home.” It was a silly reason to keep yourself from sleeping, but even if you attempted to rest, you'd be haunted by the thought of him dying somewhere alone. He was alone right now. Alone and sick.

“I'll wake you when he gets back.” Roderic offered.

You're tired. A short rest would be good for you, but… “I'm scared.”

The tears start falling as you hug yourself. Walter looks away, cursing Gilbert for putting you through this. Roderic watches you, unable to offer any assurances. He's scared, too.

Laying on the large bed you share with your husband, it feels so cold and empty. The sunshine doesn't touch here even with the curtains opened. Your pillow is wet from your tears. You can't seem to quell them.

“I'll be right outside,” Roderic promises.

What good would that do? You're still alone in this large room. Exhaustion weighs your eyelids down until you fall into darkness.

You wake into darkness. The large windows are filled with the night sky. The room has no candles nor lamps lit. A shadow stands near the bed, far enough that his presence is hidden but the dull, midnight light from the sky beyond the windows outlines his form. His black hair shines like obsidian and you draw in a sharp breath.

“Gil?” You whisper his name, fearful that the slightest noise would wake you from this dream and he would fade away like an apparition.

He doesn't answer. He's not really there. Again tears well in your eyes and stream down your cheeks.

“Don't cry, Little Rabbit.” He steps towards the bed, out of the shadows. “Did you miss me that much?”

His red eye gleams from the starlight. His smile is perfectly placed. Now that he's closer you can see the layers he's wearing, still in his cloak, he must have just arrived. You glance towards the door, wondering why Roderic didn't wake you. The closed door gives no answers, though it is clearly late so perhaps he went to bed.

Throwing the blankets off, you jump out of bed and run to your love. You throw your arms around him and nuzzle into his chest and the tears come faster. “Yes, I missed you that much!”

Shakily drawing in breaths between your outpouring of feelings and the sobs you try to swallow down, you continue as you cling to him. “Everytime you leave like that I don't know if I'm ever going to see you again! It's been three days! I thought the worst and I couldn't sleep and you can't keep doing this to me!”

Slowly, Gil's arms wrap and you. Gently, he rubs circles on your back to soothe you. He leans down to softly drop a warm kiss to your forehead. He has no words to comfort you. He makes no promises. He never does.

“That was the last time.”

Except, this time he does.

He's warm in your arms.

You draw back as the horrible realization hits you. Looking up into his single red eye that holds more emotions than Gil ever expressed, you take a step backwards. Shaking your head as if it would do any good to convince yourself this wasn't happening, you back up another step.

“No no no. No. Please. No!” A third step has you stumbling into the bed, falling onto it. You can't even feel your legs anymore.

The man posing as Gilbert slowly came closer. The man who hadn't woke you on your husband's return, because he had never returned. Roderic delicately cups your jaw. Warm hands. He wipes your tears, even as new ones fall. Warm fingers. He speaks in such a sweet voice. A voice you love. “It's alright, Little Rabbit. You won't have to miss me ever again.”

Grief so deep you never thought possible drowns your heart and sobs wrack you. Warm lips kiss your eyes as your pain pours out.

Somehow he was on the bed next to you and you fall against his shoulder. Warm arms hold you close.

He murmurs words of affection and hushes soothing encouragement. And when your sobs finally die down to hiccups and gasps and shuddering breaths, you find a handkerchief already in hand to help clean your face. He guides you through the movements you are too numb to manage on your own.

His lips touch the corner of your mouth. Dazed, you turn towards him and your husband's face looks so forlorn. Fingers touch below your chin, lifting it for lips once again to touch yours. So soft. A slow blink from you and you find your voice.

“Roderic–”

“Gil.” He corrects, and the offer is so tempting.

You knew this was always the plan. You hoped it would be a long time from now, and you had pushed it from your mind. But the time has come and now… it would be so easy to close your eyes and pretend it was all a bad dream.

“Gil.” You repeat, your eyelids falling close.

“That's right, Little Rabbit.”

It's his voice that gusts across your lips. 

A nibble on your bottom lip and a longing sigh rises from your throat. It's his teeth that catches you, so familiar in pain and pleasure.

His tongue touches yours and you can almost believe that he's still there with you. Your mouths move together, chasing the memory of the man you love through clumsy movements that aren't quite right.

It hurts so much. Your chest aches and head throbs and you just want to forget. 

Fingers find clasps, and pull ties, and brush clothing from both of your bodies. Were they yours or his? Does it matter?

Teeth sink into flesh and tongue soothes the pain and your body responds to the training you've endured to appreciate the way his love feels on you. Marks blossom on your skin from his mouth that burns too hot.

Your eyes burn, tears forming between eyelids squeezed tight.

Your chest burns, bleeding out from the inside.

Your groin burns, desire whispering sweetly that if you just let go it'll be alright.

Think of him.

Think of him.

It hurts so, so much.

Your fingers tangle in his hair. His fingers push inside of you. You cry out his name as he rubs along your inner walls, exploring you for the first time, finding the places that cause you to buck into his hand and whimper and moan.

He learns quickly. He has always known.

New overlaps with old as your husband touches on memories from times before. Building that sweet ache in the pit of your belly. Causing your cunt to throb and drip making lewd sounds that your lusty moans overshadow.

You're on your back and he's over you. When did you lie down? He pulls his fingers out of you and you whimper in frustration. You were so close to covering the hurt in your heart with the pleasure of climax and he snatched it away.

He's gone.

A single sob breaks between your gasping breaths. Tears brim again between your closed eyelids. They fall hot, so hot down the sides of your face. You're empty. Alone.

His cock touches your wet folds and you crack your eyes to see your lover with damp lashes. He looks away and buries his face in your neck as he buries his cock inside of you. Your back arches and thighs cling to his hips, as he clings to you with strong arms and roaming hands.

He pumps into you and you can't help but rock with him to squeeze and drag and churn his dick inside of you. Fingers digging into his back. Nails biting skin. He gasps and whimpers and moans near your ear. You love to hear him. His teeth dig into you. It hurts so good.

You're not alone. Your voice grows louder. He's relentless. Pounding your sex and knocking every moan out of you. Biting you again, and again, and again. Your cunt clenching tight as the pressure in your pelvis reaches a tipping point.

His thrusts turn too eager. His rhythm lopes out of pace. But you're so, so close! Please! Just– “Ah! Gil!” His hot hands grip your hips and he slams into you finding his rhythm again and he moans and heat and orgasm and shivers and spasms snap through you.

Your thoughts go blank, flooded with relief from the throbbing from before. Euphoria washes over you, wave after wave as your cunt continues to clench sending another crashing over you, then another. Gil slowed down his pumping to ride out the squeezing milking his cock. And just as you finally thought you were coming to the end of your climax, Gil thrusts deeper, his pelvis flush against yours, trying to push further still as he spills his seed into you.

You gasp. He breathes heavily on top of you. You hold him pressed against you– too hot. So hot. He's stifling. He clings to you. He needs you to smother his own pain. Pain you understand because the both of you share it. Pain neither of you can ever talk about.

He's gone. The two of you are together but his absence in this room you share with your husband is felt, as if there was a void that could never be filled. You hold each other, your hearts bleeding for the same person. Silent tears will be shed and it hurts. So. So. Much.

[dummie-writes]

the party walkers

self insert ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* school bus graveyard

words: 4.08k

previous part: a demon inside of my skin

next part: over the horizon, somewhere

note: woah hey I'm back so soon whattt, anyway. sorry that chapter was kinda more scene setting, we only got to interact with the group at the very end 😭 also, I'd like to say this is gonna be pretty self indulgent for the time being bc idk where I want the story to go 🧍‍♀️keep in mind that while I'm trying to keep it gender neutral, at times y/n may lean more feminine,and this is because I am more feminine. please enjoy :3

ii. a rescue mission

again, there's a tension. there has been for the past minute you've been sitting here. after telling them your name and settling down cross legged on the classroom floor, you kinda expected some questions or something. that blonde kid and ashlyn are still having that weird little staring contest. it's as if everyone wants to start, but no one knows how. like you've passed a test, but they aren't sure if you'll actually pass their little assignment or whatever. you were having nightmares, and eerily, the blonde knew to ask you about them even when you hadn't said you'd been having them. so, they were also having nightmares. at least, from what you could infer. 

“um, okay,” a sandy brunette boy with glasses begins. he's not looking directly at you, but instead at your bag beside you in a spaced out manner, his thumbs tapping the wooden pencil in his hand. “nightmares, monsters, right? what kind of monsters?”

     “like, gray ones? they're kinda big? sharp hands?” you say, still somewhat confused. a robotic voice comes from next to you, and as you turn your head, the tallest of the group has his phone held up, the screen facing you. on it, in black lettering, it asks “humanish?”. you blink, and then nod at it. not much of a talker, apparently. the girl who originally spoke to you, sitting next to Tyler and who you've quickly remembered is his twin sister, though you don't remember her name from the beginning of the year, opens her mouth to speak, but then ashlyn cuts her off. 

     “well, that's weird. what notes do you have on savannah?”

     a second of slight whiplash from the subject change, everyone (except for tyler) gives the freckled girl a weird look. they hadn't expected it either, but they aren't going to interfere. she has a colder tone - not entirely mean, but like she knows how to stick to decisions that she makes. actually, you'd seen her before - this town wasn't where you grew up, but you'd been here since middle school. ashlyn always kept to herself, for what rare times you did see her. the only words that you'd really ever heard from her were “excuse me” “thanks” or just glowering. you didn't know when she got all these friends. 

     you also had friends - unfortunately, they weren't really happy with you at the moment. with the whole “several hours or so in hell” situation, you hadn't really been the greatest companion. one too many times had you had to stay home from a group putting, or just slept straight through. they had a right to be upset with you, especially when you wouldn't communicate and were crabby. 

     “again, not really my fault! what am I supposed to tell them? that I'm bleeding out in the bathroom all night?” but, you know, whatever. 

     you pulled out your notebook, reading through the few notes you had written down since the start of the group project. you wouldn't argue right now. maybe they were just weird, maybe they were all in the same boiling pot you were. either way, the six of them didn't seem open to talking about it, which means another lonely night in the bathroom for you. 

     not for them, though. as you tried to be as quiet as possible on the cold, tiled floor, and then moving to the shower so the blood from your back would trickle down the drain instead, they would have a rather rambunctious evening. 

     “tyler, seriously. if they're here too, we need to get them!”

     “that isn't a risk we should be taking!”

     ash cringed just slightly at the volume of tyler's voice, and picked at the peeling fabric of the bus seat she was in. this argument had been going on for about an hour, stopping them from any sort of progress in terms of supplies, information, or anything, really. aiden was seated in the seat across from herself, foot dangling as he rhythmically tapped the seat, smiling as he usually did. his red eyes swung back and forth between the aggressors, not saying much except for the offhand comment or joke. 

     “guys, what if it was one of us? what if it was taylor?”

     “fields, don't even think about using that kind of an argument. it's cheap, and that's my sister. not a random classmate - who, by the way, might not actually even be here! they could just be having bad dreams! but, no, i’m the crazy one, right?”

    ben shifted uncomfortably, tensing and releasing his fists. tyler was defensive, that much was for sure. truth be told, he in fact did not actually like the idea of possibility leaving you stranded somewhere. it wasn't moral. but he was right, he knew he was right. they didn't have the actual information needed, the possibile required resources, and he wouldn't put taylor in any sort of unnecessary danger like that. not when you lived almost four blocks away from where they already were. despite not saying so, ashlyn agreed almost entirely. she wouldn't lose her entire team saving one person. at the very least, not until they were positive you were actually I'm this other dimension. 

     “remind me again why we didn't just ask them if they were here?” aiden questions, his cheeks rising a little as he stared at tyler in an almost dare to reply. 

     “we won't even tell our parents what's going on. if they're just having nightmares, they'll think we're crazy or on drugs. and in that case, who knows what they'll tell the school, or the police,” ash replies in an even tone, raising an eyebrow as her eyes meet aiden's, and then to taylor as she speaks again. 

     “but it isn't right. you know it's not right. and there was that unexplained scream you heard at the hotel, ash,” taylor points out, throwing her arms out as she paces back and forth. her hair was starting to tangle from all the moment, and a stern look in her eyes told everyone this isn't something she would let go of. at least not thus far. 

     ashlyn sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and looking down. a quiet pooled in the bus as the ginger thought through the possibilities and risks. taylor was right. they couldn't just leave you wherever you were to rot, possibly die. even if she wasn't a people person, she wasn't a monster. she couldn't let any phantoms hurt you or anyone else in good spirits, that would just be horrible and wrong. she knew tyler wouldn't mind getting you either, if it wasn't such a huge risk, and a major liability if you actually weren't there. 

 

   a small glow emitted from a couple feet away from her, looking up to Ben's phone screen as her hand slid to hold up her head. “we need more info”.

     logan tapped his foot tentatively, his face soft but unagreeable. he had been making a more logical argument, but was emotion driven nonetheless in his words. having another person would be an advantage. it would come with its own challenges, yes - explaining why they had another person hanging out with them to ashlyn's already suspicious parents, keeping track of an entire other human being, the extra general supplies - but having another person who wasn't a phantom on their side was also a benefit. another pair of eyes, hands, ears. more supplies could be carried. 

     not to mention, you are not just a video game character. you're an actual human being, with a life, with sentience. in the end, that's the defining factor. they can't abandon you. but they won't come looking for you without being sure you'll be there when they search. 

     “this is a stupid argument because we aren't actually arguing about saving them, but about when.” 

     taylor looks up to ash, lightening from how upset she was previously, and her shoulders beginning to drop. an unspoken understanding passes through them as everyone else mumbles something of agreement. 

     “and how the hell are we supposed to pull that off? do any of you even have their phone number? we didn't add them to any group chats because we were still in our own world when class ended,” tyler huffed, crossing his arms and leaning back into his chair, a sour expression in the creases of his face and eyebrows. 

     “I could run over there,” 

     everyone stared at Aiden for a second as he smiles in excitement before tyler thwacks him in the back of the head. not hard, but audibly. aiden’s mouth opens slightly, his smile unwavering but now wider as he scoffs in hubris.. “that's not happening, you moron.”

     that next morning is a hard one for you. for one, trying to clean that horrible slash with isopropyl alcohol isn't working. it's making things worse, in fact; the flesh around it is red and dry, it throbs when you move too much, and every so often, it'll crack further down your back because you moved too quickly. not to mention, it hurts like a bitch when you do so. not cleaning it runs the risk of infection, but honestly, you're too exhausted to care anymore. your mind is messed up, clearly. talking to a psychologist isn't an option, you'd get put in an asylum before you could finish your sentence. this was just your life now. and you would properly clean it later. 

     walking into class, you felt the jab of a finger at your back. jumping, you turn around to give a dirty look at whoever was giving you a difficult time, before realizing that it was aiden, from your group project. you take a breath and smile. “hey, how are you?”

     despite it being a very normal question that usually results in a “im fine”, aiden clark is not a normal person (to be fair, you aren't at this point either), and answers with a much more winded explanation. 

     “oh! I'm doing pretty great, haha. last night's homework wasn't all too difficult or anything, and since you're having trouble with your work, you can copy off mine if you'd like. speaking of last night, how'd you sleep? you know, with sleeping issues and everything? sorry about my friends yesterday, they can be a bit argumentative. it think it's funny lol.”

     at this point, ben, who you remember now as being introduced as aiden's cousin and is walking behind, looks at you, nodding and giving a small wave. you, in return, smile widely at him. 

     “well, aren't you just a ray of fucking sunshine or something,” you hear an irritated, grumpy voice from next to you, and then a yelp, followed by “ow! don't pinch me!” and a “then be nice!”

     turning to taylor and tyler, the long haired of the two smiles in a nervous apology. “sorry, he's always kinda cranky in the morning. he didn't mean that, I swear.” as taylor tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and chuckles softly, you notice she has a soft sparkle in her eye. that, and the fact that she has been nothing but kind to you in the entirety of the while you've interacted with th pushes her to be your favorite for the time being. 

     “it's okay, i'm not all too great for the first couple hours too. coffee helps, would you like some? do you have a cup or something?” you're being a little over-nice on purpose, mainly to make him feel bad for being a bit of an ass- but it's a genuine offer. he wasn't downright cruel, just a little mean. and the eye bags on top of his cheeks tell you that taylor wasn't lying about him not being a morning person. 

     tyler scowls, wrinkling his nose and glancing at the thermos you have on your desk. it's your favorite color, and the metal is warm with the creamy, light brown coffee inside. for a second, his face drops a little, and he looks like he's genuinely considering your offer, before rolling his eyes scoffing. “I'm good.”

     rough start for a group that hasn't entirely accepted you as part of their project, but he didn't cuss you out a throw a shoe at you, so you'll count it as a win! you don't have much time to process, because you turn your head again and jump at the bright write paper, half an inch from your face. holding it is a pale hand, and connected to that hand is aiden, wide eyed. actually, that might just be his face. you're starting to think he looks like that more than he doesn't. oh, yeah, actually, that's the homework he was talking about. you had only gotten a couple questions done last night before giving up, and trying to comfort yourself with hot chocolate before midnight arrived. 

     aiden was still looking at you expectantly, so you gingerly pinched the paper, smiling at him again as you took out your own unfinished work, and compared them side by side so you could at least not down most of them before mr. thomas got to class. as you did so, a bright yellow post-it note caught your attention, and in messy handwriting, it reads:

     “what are your nightmares about????”

     your eyebrows knit themselves, and glancing up at aiden, he's already looking at you. he turned away to talk to ben about something almost immediately, but it makes you wonder if he knows something you don't. you peel it off, filling out a few of the questions before glancing at the note again, and flipping it over to scrawl down your response of “why do you want to know so badly”. instead of a blank back, you find a phone number, which you can only theorize belongs to aiden. snatching up your phone, you pat the number in, and then hurry to finish what of the homework you can. after filling out what you think will get you a passing grade, you roll up the work and tap the blond on the shoulder with it. 

     he stops mid sentence to turn toward you, smile widely, take his homework back, and then continues talking to ben. all just as mr. thomas walks through the classroom door.

     actually, the fact that he gave you that post it note makes you giggle a little. it looks like an ad for a psychic. you nonchalantly doodle and scribble on your paper during the lecture, nearly falling asleep a couple times before you're all dismissed to sit in groups. you pause for a moment, glancing to your old group. brandy looks in your direction, smiling and standing up to walk over. oh wait what no don't -

     “hey! listen, so, about yesterday,” she whispered speedily, a note book in her right hand, tapping her pen on the cover with her left. you purse your mouth, nodding. awkward. “I'm sorry if I was being mean. I failed this class last year, and I can't repeat it again. I know that's harsh, but I'm not taking any chances.”

     a silent, uncomfortable nod and pause later, she continues. “I copied down a bunch of my notes for you, because I hope you can still pass. I'm sorry if I made you mad. I'll just, go, um, yeah.”

     a second later, you're holding a few pieces of lined paper to your chest and watching her run off and back to her group. a sinkhole opens in your chest, and you bite the inside of your cheek. would ashlyn's group be expecting you? would they talk to the teacher about getting you removed too, since they might not have wanted to fail as terribly as they already were? your eyes find their circle, where three pairs of eyes are looking to yourself, and there's a large enough gap by taylor's seat for your own. 

a soft grin presses onto your cheeks, relief emanating from you when you sigh, grabbing your chair to haul it over. at least you had a solid group for your project now, even if it was going to fall apart. and, even if your group members were a tad, let's say, bold in how long they stared at you for. not in an entirely creepy way, but in a puzzled way, like you were something to be figured out. 

     “um, he gave you his phone number, right?” logan confirmed, pushing his glasses up his nose with his index finger while he spoke. after the glint from the ceiling light left his glasses, you realized his eyes weren't entirely blue, but had a twinge of turquoise to them. or aqua. something like that, either way, they weren't a strict blue. you acknowledge his question by pulling your phone from out of your jean pocket, shaking it a little. “yep, it's all right here.”

     “good! be-”

     “we have something we should really talk about with you. a few questions.”

     “oh my fucking - you're making it sound like we're a cult.”

     “aren't we kinda?? at this point lmao??”

     “aiden, you're not helping.”

     “excuse me?” your features are slightly scrunched in both confusion and amusement - you're assuming this has something to do with the whole weird “what's in your nightmares” note, and on its own this exchange might actually kinda freak you out. but the way tyler looks like he's about to pop a vein has you beaming and nearly laughing. not to mention, aiden is just kinda, weird. a bit creepy too, but mostly weird. 

     “hey idiots, shut up! it was your guys’ decision to do it this way, and now you won't even talk with them about it properly!” tyler gives everyone a dirty look, noticeably glancing at ben and then not glaring at him. ben has a flat expression, and just glances at aiden, who is already chuckling to himself and looking back at him. 

     “ahem,” ashlyn clears her throat, pointing her eyes at you. as you turn to face her back, tyler huffs, crossing his arms and sitting back in his seat, glaring daggers at you even though you. haven't actually done anything. “so, these nightmares.”

     it's interesting that she's the one to bring this all to a head, after specifically dodging the subject yesterday in class. 

     “tell me about them.”

     when she puts it like that, it feels a lot more individual. you haven't really talked a whole bunch to ashlyn banner, even when you guys have been paired together. she was sorta… floaty. 

     “well, uh, what do you want to know?” you feel stupid for asking, but they were the ones who put you on the spot. and who are also glaring down at you, mostly in a friendly way. you think, at least. it's starting to get a bit stuffy. 

     “what color are the skies?” 

     “kinda, red. typically. but I feel like that's sort of normal. for nightmares.”

     this was weird. this was so entirely strange, actually. maybe you were too sleep deprived to actually notice, but the fact that they're dissecting you like a bug isn't normal. especially when they keep sharing glances like that! 

     “okay, hold on. what's going on? I think I should get to know why you guys are trying to scoop my soul apart with your eyes or something,” you stab a dirty look at tyler, who rolls his eyes and looks away. the rest kinda lose their gaze, sights now wandering the classroom- of course, this is excepting aiden, who's still staring at you. oh well. you kinda expected that at this point. 

     ashlyn gives a low sigh, clenching her teeth together and crossing her arms. her fingers tap on her jacket, and aiden leans over to smoosh himself into her shoulder- which she seems irritated by, but doesn't do anything to push him off because he starts speaking. 

     “I don't think we're getting anywhere with guessing games guys.” his eyelids are low, and he puts his hands behind his head, crossing his legs to put them on ben's lap like he's relaxing. that's when ash gives him a hard shove with her other arm, and he lands swiftly on the floor, drawing a giggle out of taylor. “hey! I'm right! don't push me :(.”

     “I hate to say it, but we might need to be just straightforward here,” tyler interjected, glancing at ash. “that's not a good idea, wh-”

     “hello! hi! I'm still here!” you interrupt, your palms facing upward out you wave your arms around. disbelief crosses your face, and you're about to laugh because, what the fuck? what do they know, and what are they not telling you - and why are they being so rude about it! “I would appreciate someone being straightforward with me! actually! if my opinion matters at all here!”

     “of course it matters!” taylor responds almost immediately, her shoulders dropping and her eyes becoming soft. ben stops for a second, signing “yes” in consensus. for the first time, logan speaks up, his words muddled together too quickly for you to understand for a second. 

     “yeah okay so theresthislike alternative dimensions thingandwedontactuallyknow what'sgoingonbutwould youhappentoknowhatwe're talkingabou-”

     “dude, breathe, what the fuck,” you answer, eyebrows tilted in more concern than anything else. while logan wasn't the type to talk so quickly he didn't enunciate his sentences, he didn't want to be stopped by any of the group - specifically tyler, who, surprise, you'll never guess, was glaring at him. 

    

     “... did you say alternate dimension?”

     “yeah lol.”

     “and what exactly does he mean by that?”

     “exactly what i, um, said. there's a shift, it starts at midnight, and we're there for seven hours. only seven minutes actually pass, but, uh, no one actually gets any sleep at that point.”

     that is… exactly what your little nightmare issue sounds like. 

     “the red skies, the phantoms-” who you're assuming are those demon things. “-they all match with our little, uh, nightly problem. the only thing that doesn't match up is how on earth you're there too. we know what caused us falling through - but why are you there?” logan asks, and the more he talks, especially about something he knows, the more he seems less shy. tentative, sure, but more confident in his words. it makes your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. 

     if he's serious about this, maybe they aren't playing some joke on you- which was already unlikely, but you've gotta cope somehow. if there are who knows how many other people in that little hell hole of an evening, then it isn't only you that you need to worry about, and you can't just hole up in the bathroom if there are others too. 

     “when did you start going?” aiden asks, poking you in the back again so you turn to him. 

     “that night at the hotel after the field trip.”

     “hmmm. anything weird happen?”

     “i mean, I went with my group. and I was kinda lagging behind and got tossed up with another group who was touring some haunted house because the lady thought I was with them.”

     “... what house?”

     “ummmm, seed house? something weird like that? ‘s’ somethi-”

     “the sorrel weed house. “

     that time, ashlyn didn't ask, but stated. it was a ghost of her usual, stronger tone. 

    

     “you must have gotten tossed up with our group.”

     the cold bathroom tile that you sat on was uncomfortable when you awoke that night, but the air was chilled with excitement. you were getting busted out. you'd have to do the more difficult part of maneuvering out of the house with what ashlyn and her group called “phantoms”, as well as trying to grab some stuff on your way out. blankets, first aid supplies, food, bags- anything you could really get your hands on. but escape was everyone's first priority. which is why your ear is pressed so hard to the cheap wooden door, and your breathing is as quiet as you can force it to be. you're listening for footsteps. or tapping. or whatever other noises might hint to otherworldly existence. 

     you hadn't been out of this bathroom in your entire time here. had you been hungry? yeah. but… what else were you supposed to do? you didn't exactly have a group to watch your back while you grabbed a lunchable from the kitchen. 

     nothing. nothing for the past ten minutes. the others should be here in about twenty. that's how long you have. so, with that in mind, you focus on your first location: your bedroom, where your phone, backpack, and blankets were. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

that's right, get part 1'd. hope you enjoyed

next part: over the horizon, somewhere

[talesoftheesun]

I um... tripped! [O.G.]

pairing: ominis gaunt x slytherin!reader (gender neutral)

genre: fluff, slight angst, idk??

warnings: mention of blood. ominis might spontaneously go gray. can be read platonically, kind of. also english is not my first language and i wrote this while high on sleep deprivation lol

word count: 862

a/n: hi!! this is my first hogwarts legacy fic. i've written before here and there but it's been a long time lol. i hope you guys enjoy!

prompt: "they do a poor job of hiding the damage"

summary: you're out doing keeper stuff, ominis is concerned.

Stumbling through the common room doors, you cling to the wall like a lifeline. The winding of the stairs makes you feel even worse. As you near the bottom of the stairs, you strain your ears trying to figure out if anyone was still awake. Silence. You relax a bit as you continue to limp down the stairs. 

You should've known better. 

As soon as you make it all the way down, that ever-concerned voice speaks up, "And where in Merlin's name have you been?" 

“Bloody hell Ominis, how many times do I have to ask you to stop doing that?!” You clutch your heart. He turns his head in your direction, deadpan look on his face. “I wouldn’t have to if you’d stop coming back so late every bloody day.” 

You grumble, “You know I have keeper stuff to do.” Ominis can’t stop the sigh from escaping. “Yes, I’m aware of that, but do you have to keep doing it in the middle of the night?” 

Unbeknownst to him, you’re swaying on your feet, “Can we not do this right now, please, I just want to go to bed.” You don't wait for a response. Knowing full well he’d pop a vein if he knew of your current condition, you try to make as little noise as possible as you move in the direction of your room. 

Ominis scoffs and jumps up from where he was sitting on the chesterfield so fast, you’d think someone just slapped him. “No, we are doing this now!” He makes his way over to you in just a few strides, “You’re never around long enough during the day for us to have this conversation then! Do you have any id—” He freezes up at the sound of a loud thud.

Frantically waving his wand around, he finally finds you, on the floor. “Wha— Are you okay?” 

Any other day, in any other situation, you’d have laughed at how big his eyes have gotten since the start of your… conversation. Right now however, you were too preoccupied with keeping your pain hidden from him. You cough, “Yeah, I’m fine, I um… tripped! Over uh… Violet’s shoe..?” Mentally beating yourself up over how bad of an excuse that was.

“Right…” He holds his left hand out for you to grab, “Come on then.” 

Too preoccupied with keeping your labored breaths down, you don't notice his hand until he hisses your name. “Oh. Sorry,” you gingerly grab his hand. 

Now, Ominis wouldn’t describe himself as strong, he can’t exactly participate in sports given his lack of sight. But the blood-curdling scream you let out as he pulled you up, would make anyone think he just ripped your body apart.

Feeling your weight drop back down, he quickly wraps his arms around you to catch you. “What’s wrong?! Did I hurt you? Wait— Did someone hurt you out there?!” Eyes darting around, as if trying to find the damage.

Still trying to catch your breath, you can only groan in response. He strokes your hair as he carefully walks you back towards the couch. Repeating apologies like a prayer. He pulls you onto his lap, not sure whether he should be careful and hold you like a porcelain doll, or to pull you closer and hold on for dear life. When he feels you lean into him, he settles on the latter. 

"I'm sorry," by now he's realized that the iron smell of blood he got a waft of earlier wasn't the blood of your enemies, it was yours. "I'm so, so sorry."

Finally able to breathe easier now, you wrap your arms around his torso. "It's not your fault. Please don't beat yourself up about it."

"Why didn't you tell me?" He frowns, tears brimming his eyes. "And why didn't you take a wiggenweld potion?"

You sigh, "Well, I knew you'd be upset with me and... I ran out at some point." Looking down in shame.

"You're damn right I'd be upset," he huffs, "But I'd at least wait until after you're okay to lecture you." Realizing how silly you’d been acting, you mumble an apology into his neck.

"What? I didn't quite catch that." He fails to fight the smirk threatening to break out. You roll your eyes, but give in anyway, "I said, you're right and I'm sorry."

"Hmm no, still didn't catch that."

Exasperated now, you huff, "You're right and I'm wrong.” Finally satisfied, he allows the smile on his face to grow even more. "Now will you help patch me up?"

He winces, "Not sure how you could forget darling, but I'm horrible at potions, I don't have any wiggenweld potions for you." You groan, "Ugh right. Then can you just hold me until you can get Sebastian to get some for me?" 

“Of course,” Shifting your bodies so you’re both laying down on the couch, you on top of his chest, he summons the blanket resting on the other couch to drape over you. "Now, get some rest."

As you settle into the warmth of his body, you drift off to sleep. The last thing you feel is his lips on your forehead.

[armpirate]

Soundleasure | Choi San || CH. 24

Pairings: Soft!San x fem!reader || Strangers to lovers, fake dating

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, online sex, ghosting

Warnings: inexperienced!San, fem!reader, masturbation, online sex, camboy, first times.

Summary: You can do whatever you please and be whoever you want on the Internet. And San knew that a little bit too well.

After finally following all the signs the universe was throwing at him, he started living a double life that no one was aware of. Everyone in his daily life knew him as Choi San, the reserved and quiet boy who wouldn't raise his voice, and would barely communicate with anyone outside of his comfort group. But only a few knew him as Soundleasure, the man with a sexy voice and a filthy mind that had their toes curling just with his narrations.

He never thought of the possibility of those two lives ever meeting, he had always tried for them to follow a parallel route and had always played safe to keep his friends from ever suspecting that side even existed. But his plans will start to crumble when he gets a little too close with one of his subscribers and she invades his real-self and altergo's universes without being able to stop it.

Y/n will not only help him to keep his secret from his circle, but will also show him there's more of Soundleasure in him than he'd like to admit. 

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Aprox. time of reading: 15 minutes

There wasn't anything he hated more than going shopping, especially when he had to enter those shops where he was scrutinized as soon as he set foot inside. His anxiety already reached its peak whenever he entered commercial shops filled with people, but it was a whole worse experience when the stores had more assistants than customers. It felt as if he had a huge neon light above his head that made everyone aware of his presence. It felt like he was less able to go unnoticed as he loved to do.

And it was still okay since he went there with Hongjoong and Seonghwa, he couldn't imagine how bad it'd have been if he had gone alone.

—Are you telling me you don't have a single suit that you could use? —Seonghwa mentioned first, turning to San with a concerned look.

—Tell me when I'd need to have one —his eyelids slightly dropped, challenging his friend.

—This weekend —his answer was so quick and blatant, that San could only roll his eyes while he walked around the store, trying to hide among the racks.

—Do you know what dress Y/n is going to wear? —Hongjoong asked, interrupting their dumb conversation.

—Why?

—Your outfits should match —Hongjoong commented as if it were obvious—. If her outfit is mostly red, you should wear a small detail in red. If her outfit is blue, you should wear a small detail in blue. And important: with the same tone. It's common sense.

San quickly shifted his eyes to Seonghwa, who only nodded at the intervention of their friend.

—She'll be wearing a white dress —he shrugged.

—Cream? Eggshell? Seashell? Off-white? —Seonghwa questioned.

—I don't know... White.

The huffs that came from his friends pushed him to ask Y/n for a pic of the dress, receiving one almost immediately after the dress spread on her bed, easily standing out among the gray sheets over the mattress.

Y/n: Are you buying your suit?

Y/n: Don't worry too much.

San's smile hinted to the other two friends what was going on in his phone, making them roll their eyes at just the idea of him being so easily distracted.

—Oh, it's a seashell white —Hongjoong mumbled, zooming in on the picture when San finally turned his phone.

Both of his friends walked ahead of him, almost as if they read each other's mind on what outfit would be the best one to match Y/n's.

And their ideas were great, until he had to try on a total of eight suits, changing the fabric of the shirts with each one of them, because a plain white shirt would be too basic for the type of event he was going to attend.

San was exhausted, almost tempted to give up and wear a simple shirt and a pair of pants of the same color so he wouldn't have to think about the accessories more than necessary. But he also knew that, after Y/n invited all of his friends and their girlfriends, they all would give him a hard time if he ever showed up that way.

—I really thought you'd take her home that day —San heard Seonghwa tease Hongjoong from the outside.

—Things need to go slow. And also, I needed to finish a project that same night —his other friend excused himself—. If I don't get it well done, they'll start dividing projects among the group, and I can't let that happen. Not when my rent is already eating fifty per cent of my salary.

—Are you talking about the baker? —San asked from the inside.

Hongjoong had told them about that girl. He met her when he went to get something to eat on a short break he allowed himself, and he didn't hesitate to ask her out. But now it seemed like he was hesitating on adapting to what she expected from a normal relationship, placing his job at the top of his priorities.

—Yeah, we agreed on meeting up again —Hongjoong added, rolling his eyes at Seonghwa—. She understood I had to work. See? Not everyone is a drama queen as you —looking back at the curtains that were moving due to San's movements inside, Hongjoong asked:—. How are things going with Y/n? Mingi told us you two see each other almost every day.

—Great —San answered, poking the brown shirt inside the white pants—. It's going well.

—That's good to hear. I was a bit worried —Hongjoong admitted.

—Why? —Seonghwa interrupted.

—I'm not sure if I told you, but Y/n is really exigent with men. I remember, when I worked with her company, people in her office were a bit cruel about that topic —he admitted.

—So knowing that you wanted to set her up with San? —Seonghwa accused him.

—You wanted to set me up with Y/n? —San asked, alerted, peeking his head through the navy curtain.

Seonghwa could only press his lips when Hongjoong squinted his eyes at him, cursing silently before he turned to San again.

—Remember the girl I told you to go on a date with, and you said no?

—You knew it was Y/n?

—No, I didn't know who the girl was. Until a few days ago. I was talking to a friend, and she said she was surprised at Y/n's relationship reveal, and that she was thankful you said no, because the blind date would've ended on a demand if you had crossed any lines with her —Hongjoong confessed with a low voice.

—People in her workplace were trying to set her up? —Seonghwa was surprised at the news.

—People in her workplace were looking for her to be easier on them, and they thought she behaved like that only because she wasn't in a relationship.

—Now... that's some sexist bullshit. How does her love life have anything to do with her work? —Seonghwa asked, visibly annoyed— She's a sweetheart. If she's rough with them, it's because they work like shit.

—Does Y/n know about this? —San tilted his head.

—No... I doubt it —Hongjoong puckered his lips as he shook his head—. Although, I wouldn't be surprised if she did know and only ate it up. It's not like she can do anything. You can't change an asshole from being an asshole.

—Well, but you can confront an asshole for being one —San answered back—. Who was it?

Neither of them had seen San actually mad at someone and, even less, calling someone else out. The fights in their group were never big enough, they were usually solved by him and Yunho getting in between to pacify those who got mad.

Hongjoong felt a mix of curiosity and caution as he thought of San ever thinking of confronting someone to defend Y/n. It was obvious he was serious with her, and that it hurt to hear anyone was trying to act ill against her, and all that made his reaction uncertain.

Y/n's leg was shaking nervously as she waited for San to show up at her door. Ever since he asked her for a picture of her dress, she knew he was buying his suit, and it only made her eager to see what he'd look like completely dressed up for an event like that.

Her body jumped almost immediately when the ring belled, sprinting, as she could with the white high-heeled sandals. She held onto the edge of her door as she opened it, greeting San with a bright smile that slowly vanished in surprise when she saw him for the first time.

He was already attractive, but there was something on the way he styled his bangs back that made him look even more manly. The outfit was simple, yet he pulled it out so well she didn't notice when her lips started parting as she looked down. His broad shoulders were even more marked with the white blazer he was wearing, which combined ingeniously with the brown shirt he had tucked inside his white pants.

San got out of the trance after looking at her in awe, distracted by how good she looked with her short hair up in a semi-updo. He knew the dress she was wearing, but nothing prepared him for seeing it on her. Despite the fabric being airy from her hips to below her knees, it adjusted perfectly to her curves at the top, being held with some thin straps.

—You look... God... —his eyes shined when he looked back at hers—. You look so beautiful —that compliment had her playing with the skirt of her dress.

—You look so good, too —her free hand moved over his chest, stopping at the two buttons unbuttoned—. But I think something's missing here.

—You think I should button them up?

—No —she giggled, inviting him to step inside—. Give me a second.

San looked around, as if he didn't know that place by heart. He had spent so many times there, that he was sure he'd be able to run across the place, blinded, without colliding with a single piece of furniture in there.

Her high heels clicked against each step of the stairs as she walked down again, looking at him as if she were a princess going to a ball with him. He was so lost in here, that he didn't notice the black necklace she was carrying in her fingers.

—You know, accessories are good, too —she puckered her lips, sliding her fingers over his neck.

The necklace was simple, with a thin black chain that unified at the center and extended together for a few more centimeters -making it look like a pendant, when in reality it had nothing.

—If you don't like it, we can take it off —she whispered, resting her hands on his chest as she looked satisfied with the result.

—If you like it, I bet it looks great.

On their way to the venue, Y/n was always comforting him and trying to make him feel good at what was going to happen. San managed himself at those places better than he thought, but even then she wasn't going to leave him by himself -that was why she also invited his whole friend group.

She left the car at the entrance, leaving her keys to the valet parking so they'd take care of it before she joined an intimidated San. Her fingers stroked the reverse of his left hand, stealing his attention from the entrance.

—You'll do great —she assured him—. Just be yourself, and remain calm. Eat, drink... and don't feel forced to speak to anyone you don't want to. I'm the one working, not you. And I won't leave you alone, but even if it happens...

—We'll be okay—San cut her off, moving his fingers to wrap them around her hand—. And you have a lot of things to worry about today, I shouldn't be one of them —his hand only left hers to move up her body, hooking on her nape to pull her closer and lie a kiss on her temple—. Show them all the boss that you are.

Y/n had to control herself not to give in to her deeper thoughts and let her legs turn to jelly. That man always knew what to do and what to say, and he always did it because he felt all of his actions and words.

In the venue, the attendees were divided into smaller groups. It was clear who were the influencers they were trying to gain, and who were customers directly related to the company throughout the years it had been running. Although it wasn't something that mattered, because the main point of the event wasn't making them interact among each other.

The cars were distributed inside. At the center, there were real life samples of the latest models that were currently on the market, while on the sides there were samples of older version that had been released through the years -with the latest models versioned in smaller sizes that fit in the showcase at the entrance.

At first, San and her were walking around together, greeting those who had been directly linked with the company for years, only for them to move apart after they greeted her father, with San remaining at one side with his group of friends, while Y/n was quickly trapped in an improvised meeting that discussed everything but the event going on. Despite being so far away, separated by the two lines of cars, their eyes always managed to meet over them, exchanging supporting smiles before they tried to go back to their conversations.

—I love what you two did here —Yunho praised—. It looks really cool.

—Will they give us one of the cars? —Jongho suddenly asked.

—Don't be tacky —Sam slapped his chest.

—Poor Y/n —Yeosang sighed—. Imagine preparing something like this, and being forced to be surrounded by old men.

—Well, I hope it's only for the first part of the event and they set her free soon so we can speak to her longer than a greeting —Seonghwa's lips twisted in disappointment.

—Tss, surrounded by old men, as if she didn't like that —San caught the comment over the conversation his friends were having.

Hongjoong caught San's loss of attention on the conversation when his eyes looked nowhere in concrete, while his head was bending towards the side where the voice was coming from.

—I still can't believe she hooked up with someone who could be her father —another one commented—. I guess as long as the green peeks over...

—That poor boyfriend of hers... —he heard the same voice— Hope he knows she'll dump his ass as soon as she finds someone with more money.

—That if she doesn't end up alone.

—She won't. Her father is insistent on her being married to someone before she inherits the company, why do you think she found this new noob?

One click of tongue and they all knew they were losing him. Meghan couldn't stop him even if she pinched on his blazer, and his friends' warnings turned into silent sounds as anger took the best of him.

—Are you enjoying the event? —he cut them off.

—Oh yes, thank you —one of the ladies smiled, holding up their cup of wine.

—I couldn't help but hear what you were talking about.

—Didn't you know that it's disrespectful to listen to others' conversations?

—Didn't someone teach you that it's of poor taste to talk shit about someone , while you're eating and drinking at her cost?

—Excuse me? —her eyebrows lifted— Do you know who I am? I'm Rita Smith, and I'm...

—A talkhead, that's what you are.

He wasn't surprised by the things she was saying after hearing her name. The same person who made sure rumors spread over Y/n was criticizing her for things that had nothing to do with the company.

—I can't blame you though, I'd also be miserable if I were you.

—Miserable?

—You spend your days turning down someone for existing, because your life is so shitty you can't find comfort in it without shitting on others.

Y/n, who had spent every five minutes holding back her eyes from rolling, felt suddenly disconnected from the discussion they had going on when she heard some voices being a bit louder than the rest, and not in the funny and exciting sense.

When she turned to the owners, she was shocked to see San being at the core of the argument. And not only was he there by his own choice, but he was also replying back to every comment that escaped Rita's lips.

Before any of them could question whether that was her boyfriend or not, and without checking once what her father's expression was, Y/n walked to her where San was, getting in between the argument that was heating up.

—Is everything okay?

Rita only smirked, looking away at the presence of Y/n.

—Like girlfriend, like boyfriend —she rolled her eyes—. Your boyfriend is attacking me.

—Attacking you? —Y/n's eyebrows raised in surprise, shocked at the accusation.

—Yes, he interrupted our conversation —she pointed at her secretary—, and disrespected me.

—Well, I guess if you say it, it's because it's true —Y/n sighed.

San looked at her shocked at first, confused at how she didn't hesitate to believe her words without letting him defend himself.

—After all, you're an expert on disrespecting people —Y/n continued, placing her hands on her hips as she confronted the woman—. You have big balls to accuse someone of disrespect when you've been doing that for years. But I can't start to explain the nerve you must have to come here at this party, and do the only thing you're useful for —Y/n was calling her out calmly, never raising her tone, never giving anyone the show they wanted—. And I'll be giving you two choices: either you leave now without making a fuss, or you can pick all of your things in the office on Monday morning. Your choice.

Rita looked at the group of people that were backing up San and Y/n without saying a word, making it clear that, it didn't matter what she said or did, neither of them would come to her defense.

With only a huff, Rita looked at her secretary and commanded her to start walking to the exit without saying a word; and Y/n was close to doing the same, turning to their group of friends to apologize for what happened, before she grabbed San by his wrist and walked him to one of the rooms that were used to prepare the catering in trays.

—She was crossing all the lines. And I'm sorry, I'm not going to apologize. I wasn't going to stand there...

Y/n interrupted him, linking their lips together, with San almost losing his balance and colliding his back against the door before he started responding back to her kiss. His hands saved a secured spot on her waist, pressing her body against his, while their lips moved sweetly against one another on a slow kiss.

—I wasn't going to ask for an apology —she rubbed her nose against him—. Rita has been acting like that since I took a position as the manager —her hands slid to his sides under his blazer—. I never put her in her place because I thought it'd be better to just ignore her, but what you did today was exactly what I should've done the first time it happened. I also wanted to thank you —she added with a weak tone—, it wasn't your problem, but still you defended me.

—I like you, of course it's my problem —San replied instantly—. I know we're just pretending to date, but what I feel about you is real. Someone trying to hurt you will hurt me either way, and I'll act as I should to just protect you from that.

Y/n was touched by his words, wrapping her arms around his waist to hide her face on his chest, hugging him tight.

—I was going to wait until later —she whispered, siding her head to rest her chin on his shoulder—, but I know I'll have an awful night if I just keep it to myself.

—Hmm? —his humm vibrated through her cheek, making her feel goosebumps.

—Why don't we date for real? —Y/n finally looked at him— We like each other, we want to make it work, why don't we just stop using the fake label and turn it into a real thing? It's not like it's going to change anything, but it makes me feel good to call you my boyfriend for real —she admitted, giving him a cute smile.

—You were going to ask me later? I was going to ask you on our next date. I'm always one step behind, seriously.

Y/n cut off his inner cursing with another kiss, linking their lips together for the first time as an official real couple. 

Taglist: @brown88

[sweetsweetjellybean]

TW: Smut-tacular 3 way smut. Angst. NSFW. 18+

AN: See end of chapter

Beta'd by @superbcoffeedrinkersubparwriter

Series Masterlist Fic Menu

Last night, you dreamt that you were an acrobat wearing a costume made of white silk inlaid with diamonds that reflected the light and made you shine. Step after careful step, your slippered feet moved along a tightrope stretched high above the earth. Somehow you knew as long as you held your breath, you could make it, you wouldn't fall. A crowd gathered below you yelled things you couldn't understand. The rope creaked, and your lungs screamed for you to breathe, but you were only halfway across, and your fate became clear - you would either suffocate or fall. 

Your lungs still ached with that long-held breath as you walked down the stairs that morning in search of Steve. It was time to step off before you fell. The main floor is quiet, and you thought maybe you were home alone until you caught a glimpse of Steve through the kitchen window.  

"Hi," you say, coming out of the sliding glass door onto the back deck. The usual tidy space was in upheaval. Patio furniture that had been uncovered and scrubbed clean was now drying in the warm sun. There are gallon jugs of chemicals and cleaning tools on the cement apron surrounding the in-ground pool. Steve was in board shorts and a tank top using a long net to skim the debris out of the water.

"Hi," he gives you a quick glance before returning to his task. Some drenched whirligigs and bits of leaves get scooped up in his net before he empties it out into a silver trash can he has waiting.

"Going for a swim?" Your tone is light and breezy, a contrast to the butterflies rioting in your belly.

"Well, I thought if I can't give you the ocean, at least I can give you a pool." His thoughtful gesture only makes this harder.

"It's still a little cold, isn't it?" 

"It's heated," he shrugs before moving toward the house and connecting a garden hose to the spigot.

"Steve, I think we should talk," you blurt out, twisting your fingers.

"It's okay. You don't have to say anything," he keeps his back to you as he moves around, dropping the hose into the pool. 

"No. I really think-"

"There's nothing to say. We're friends, right? That's what you came out here to say," he asks as he crouches down to open the cover of the pool filter.

"Yeah, we're friends," you say almost hesitantly. 

"I don't want to hurt you or Eddie. Yesterday, I just got a little carried away. I stopped..we stopped before anything happened. So we can..move on, yeah?" 

When he is met with your silence, he abandons his task and joins you on the deck, where you stand with your eyes lowered, studying the texture of the gray boards. 

"Hey, none of this is your fault," he says, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind your ear, "It's me. I just need to…." He trails off and crosses his arms over his chest, "I want you to be happy while you're here. Hopper said you should hear from Enzo soon, and I'll start volunteering at the shelter again during the day. Let me know when your shifts start, and I'll give you a ride if you need one, okay?"

"Yeah, alright. Thanks, Steve," you say, turning back into the house. He returns to the pool to continue with his project. Everything is as it should be, but the disappointment washing over you confuses you even more. 

Steve was right. The phone rang the following afternoon, the voice of a harried older man letting you know you could start work the next week. It was just three shifts to start, but Enzo would schedule you for more once you were trained. The evening shifts would mean relying on the boys for rides since walking late at night wasn't a sensible option. 

"White tops, black bottoms. The men wear ties, girls wear skirts. Got it?" The older man with the Dallas mustache explained as you followed him around the busy Italian restaurant. Candles sat atop the crisp white table linens that covered every table, casting a soft glow on the brick walls and polished wood. 

"Yes, Mr. Enzo," you replied, trying to commit his whirlwind instructions to memory.

"Just call me Enzo. Forget the mister. Now, this is Leigh." He stops in front of a petite girl with dark hair cut in a sharp bob. She smiles kindly at you as Enzo continues, “She is going to show you the ropes. Stick with her tonight, and you'll be on by yourself for your next shift, learn the menu. Yes?" After you answer with a nod, Enzo departs for the kitchen, leaving you with Leigh. 

"Don't worry, you'll get it," she reassures. "There's a way we're supposed to do things, but I'm going to show you the easy way. You'll be a pro by the end of the night. You graduated last year, right?"

"Yeah, that's right," you say as she hands you a stack of menus and some silverware wrapped up in napkins.

"Lucky. I'm still a junior," She says with a sigh. Leigh takes you through table settings and the wine list, and you spend the rest of your shift shadowing her as she takes care of her tables with efficiency and a warm manner. It turns out Enzo's wasn't that different from any other restaurant you've worked at. Sure the menu and table settings were fancier. But in the kitchen, the wait staff still bitched about their tables while hanging halfway out the backdoor sneaking in a quick smoke between filling glasses and serving plates and the cooks still found a way to turn every request into something raunchy while leering at your boobs. By the night's end, your first-day jitters had disappeared, and you felt confident enough to work on your own.

"You have my number. Let me know if you need a ride or if you ever want to hang out," Leigh calls to you as you wait for Eddie to pick you up at the end of the night. 

"Thanks, I will," you wave as she heads to her car. Most of your friends left for college after graduation, and it's nice to meet someone new. The sound of Eddie's van precedes its arrival. The loud engine and equally loud music halt when he pulls up to the curb. He bursts out of the driver's door and sweeps you up into his arms, lifting you off your feet, and you squeal as he swings you around before kissing you like he hasn't seen you in days instead of hours.

"What's all this?" You ask breathlessly. 

"I've got big news, my love. But first, I want to hear about your first day," he says while opening the door and helping you into the van. 

"It was good, but I want to hear your news," you say, caught up in his excitement. 

"Okay. Hold on." He runs around the side of the van and climbs in his seat, "are you ready?" He asks with a smile like a kid on Christmas morning. 

"Yes. Yes. Tell me already," you say, bouncing in your seat.

"Okay. You are looking at the lead guitarist that will be playing with his band at the,” Eddie drums his fingers on the dashboard before continuing, “Metal Showcase Showdown." He says the name like a wrestling announcer, complete with echo.

"Ohmigod!" Stretching across the center console, you wrap your arms around him. For the last two years, corroded Coffin had been trying to get a spot in the showcase. It's a huge annual event at a club in Shelbyville. The winners walk away with a regular gig, a cash prize, and bragging rights.

"That's so amazing. I'm so proud of you," his cheeks tint apple-red at your praise, "I can't believe I'm going to be the girlfriend of a rockstar. That is unless you decide to trade me in for one of your groupies."

"Hmmm," he closes one eye and sticks out his tongue as he taps his chin with one finger. Narrowing your eyes, you give his arm a playful slap as he holds his hand up. "Just give me a minute. I'm picturing the groupies."

That earns him a few more slaps as your mouth drops open in a huff. He catches your hand mid air and kisses your knuckles. "I'm kidding, baby. You're the only one I think about." He reaches out and runs his hand along your jaw. His big doe eyes turn soft, and you can see yourself in their reflection. "After the earthquake, I crawled through hell, and my only thought was getting back to you." 

His words leave your chest aching, and you crawl across the console into his lap, covering his mouth with yours. The memory of the unbearable pain when you thought you'd lost him is still fresh in your mind. His name was a constant prayer on your lips as you cried yourself to sleep at night. But he's here, flesh and blood, with scars that remain a mystery but are easily forgotten with his soft lips moving over yours and the evidence of his passion growing under your lap. 

"Let's go home," he says, breaking the kiss. With one more sweet press of your lips, you move back into your seat as he starts the van and pulls away from the curb.

"Eddie, will you still want to move if things are going well for the band?" You ask tentatively, not wanting to rain on his parade.

"I don't know," he shakes his head as he keeps his eyes on the road, "I'm just trying to get through the rest of high school. Everything else feels too far away to think about. You don't need to worry. We won't win anyway."

"Hey, don't talk like that. I wouldn't have asked if I didn't believe you could win," you say, placing a hand on his thigh, "I was just thinking we can't stay at Steve's forever. If we're staying in Hawkins, we should think about getting our own place."

"You're not happy at Steve's? It's a hell of a lot nicer than anything we could afford."

"I know, but eventually, we will wear out our welcome."

"Look, baby, he's a friend. You've seen the guy. He was almost catatonic before he got laid, and I need a place to live. Wheeler and Buckley would be having kittens worrying about him if we weren't there. If you don't like living in a mansion with a pool, for free I might add, you could always move home for a little while."

"You don't want to live with me?" You ask quietly, pulling your hand away and looking out the window. Eddie hadn't actually asked you to move in. Steve was the one that extended the offer after you had spent a few nights there.

"That's not what I'm saying," he sighs, "I'm broke. I owe Wayne money. I got Rick breathing down my neck. Sales are slow because the cops are still keeping an eye on me. I'm drowning in schoolwork. Then there's the band and the club and you to keep happy. I can't keep stacking more on top of all this shit."

"Okay, I'm sorry," your face is hot, and unshed tears sting your eyes. 

"I might as well tell you now that the band's going to practice more to get ready for the show. I know that's going to mean less time together for a while. Can you cut me a little slack for the next few weeks?" He asks, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips. Nodding your head, you swipe at your eyes, trying to calm yourself before the dam bursts. 

"Good girl. I love you."

♡♡

Hugging the throw pillow to your chest, you sit in the dark living room with the tv providing the only light. Your hands are sweating, and your muscles tense as you watch Bruce Willis run around trying to get his life back from the doppelganger that has taken over.

The big quiet house feels empty with Eddie and Steve gone during the day as you wander from room to room, straightening up as needed, gathering laundry to wash, and making up the beds. Eventually, you end up in the kitchen, where you pull out a few ingredients from the fridge and begin to prepare a few meals so that the boys can have something that will heat up quickly while you're at work. The tedium of the last few weeks has given way to loneliness. Sadly, the best part of your day has become the short ride to work, where Eddie's attention isn't occupied with school, music, or campaigns. Even though you are proud of him for following through with his commitments, you can't help but feel you are falling further and further down his list of priorities. When you're finished cooking, you seal the food in Tupperware and put it in the fridge. The containers from yesterday's meals sit clean in the drying rack. Despite Steve's protests against being looked after, he eats the dinners you leave for him. He has made himself scarce whenever Eddie isn't around, choosing to spend time in his room or out of the house, and you miss him.

"What are you watching?" Steve asks from where he's standing just behind the couch, causing you to jump out of your skin.

"Jesus. Holy shit," you say with your hand over your heart, trying to calm down, "I think I almost peed my pants."

"Sorry," he says, trying to hide his laughter, "Watching The Twilight Zone in the dark, huh? You're brave."

"Turns out not so much," you toss the throw pillow at him, and he catches it easily.

"No Eddie tonight?" He tosses the pillow back onto the couch. 

"Nope. Band practice. The showcase is coming up." 

"Ah," He shakes his head, understanding. He hovers hesitantly in the entryway before he coming further into the room. "What did you do with your day off?" He asks, taking a seat on the edge of one of the overstuffed armchairs that flank the couch.

"Not much," you answer, pulling your knees up to your chest and crossing your arms over them, "I made some of the chicken and vegetables you like. I can heat it up for you if you want?"

"I already ate…but I'll have it tomorrow for lunch. Thank you for cooking."

"Sure." 

The narrator's monotone voice wraps up the first half of the show. "A man who lost himself...and found himself...on a lonely battlefield, somewhere...in the Twilight Zone."

"There is still the second story left. You could watch it with me? Protect me from all the scary things in the dark?" You ask, hopefully.

"I’m meeting Robin. Just stopped home to change." He says, standing and pointing back towards the door. 

"Oh, okay. Maybe next time. Tell Robin hey for me," you look away from him, turning back towards the tv, trying to hide your disappointment. He stands there for another moment before moving towards the stairs. He's doing the right thing, the commendable thing, but your heart can't help wanting him. His footsteps fade on the stairway as you try to focus on the screen and not the boy upstairs.

As if he times it perfectly, the commercials are just finishing when he plops beside you wearing sweats and an old t-shirt. "I thought you were going out?" You bite your lip to hide the smile threatening to give away how happy you are to have his company.

"I'm tired," he says, keeping his eyes on the tv, "Besides, I don't want to have to clean pee off the couch."  

Laughing, you bump his shoulder with yours. Circling his elbow with your arm, you lay your head against his shoulder as the announcer appears on the screen. 

"Is this okay?" You ask softly.

"Yeah. It's okay."

"Good morning, beautiful," Eddies whispers early the next morning, his lips lightly brushing the shell of your ear.

He hadn’t been home when you had gone to bed last night. After finishing the episode plus one more curled around him, Steve walked you to your room like the end of date. The two of you lingered in the hall thinking of things to say to keep each other there longer. Eventually saying your good nights before falling asleep in your cold, empty bed alone.

But now you're floating in that dreamy place between wake and sleep. Laying almost on your stomach with your left leg hiked up, the t-shirt you put on last night bunched up around your waist, Eddie’s warm chest pressed against back and his deft fingers stroking softly between your legs.

“Hmmm, Eddie,” you moan softly, eyes still closed, already incredibly wet, your body responding before your mind could catch up. “I’m here,” his breath fans over your jaw. Warm pluses of sleepy arousal radiate from your core, traveling through your body, making every brush of his smooth skin against yours feel electric. Clutching the sheets and blankets to your chest, your hips start to move, grinding against the very ready, very hard cock pressed against your ass. 

“Fuck baby, kiss me,” his mouth desperate for a taste of yours. Turning your head, his lips find you. His tongue dips into your mouth, sliding against yours in a slow wet kiss. The tiny cry that bubbles from your throat is muffled by his mouth as two fingers push into your slick channel, him giving you what you need before you can ask for it. His fingers pump in and out of you dragging against your spongy walls before gliding slowly through your folds to circle your clit, lighting you up like a sparkler before sliding back down, spreading your slick to the tight ring of your ass, and then up to repeat the process. 

"Eddie, shit…I need this…need you," you whine, reaching behind you running your hand up and down the velvety skin of his cock earning you an impassioned groan. 

“I know you do,” he helps you out of your shirt and rolls you on to your back. His beautiful face hovering over you and you realize just how long it’s been but now he’s here, sleepy eyes drunk with desire, lips berry red and swollen from kissing you.

“You are so fucking sexy,” you softly murmur while trailing your hand over his tatoos and lower down the expanse of his chest. His cheeks glow cupid-pink only adding to the effect. “Me?” he chuckles, returning your touch, letting his fingers drift over your hard nipples, “Do you know how much I want you? How much I always want you?”  He dips his head, wetly nipping down the column of your neck. 

“Show me you,” you rasp as his mouth closes over your breast, sucking, his tongue swirling over your nipple. Wandering fingers work their way into your heat, one breaching the tight ring of your ass while two others fill your pussy. Your hips roll, working him deeper inside you. He’s everywhere, filling you, tasting you, worshiping at your altar, pleasure flames through you and you lose control wantonly moaning.

“I need to fuck you.” He growls, his voice rough and strained as his mouth returns to yours sucking in your bottom, gently biting to remind you to answer. "I want you.. Eddie…please fuck me,” you helplessly whimper as pulls away leaving you empty and desperate. Knowing what you both want, you roll to your belly and lift your hips. Looking over your shoulder, you watch as he pumps himself, his eyes trained on your glistening pussy. “I can’t go slow. I’m sorry,” he warns as he lines himself up at your slick entrance. The need for each overpowering any rational thought. He drives into you in one smooth stroke, both of you crying out at the way you fit together. He thrust forward as you work your hips back, meeting each other in a frenzy. His hands run up and down your back, the tender touches a contrast to the hard deep thrusts of his dick, setting you ablaze inside and out as he moves in ceaseless rhythm, both of  you flying towards release.”I’m close,” your inner muscles tighten as that exquisite pressure builds deep inside you. 

"I can feel it, baby," his fingers move to circle your clit, sparking the fuse that has your orgasam exploding through you. A few more thrusts, and he's pulling out of you working himself through his release, spilling his thick, rich cum onto your back. You collapse onto your stomach enjoying the aftershocks and he drops down beside you a grin stretching across his face. Laughing, you lean over and press a small kiss to his cheek.

"I love you," he tells you, as he wipes your back with your discarded t-shirt. He's giving you a few more soft kisses when you hear a door slam and footsteps moving down the stairs. "I think we woke up Steve," Eddie says, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose, "Let's clean up, and after breakfast, I'll make you dirty all over again."

Turning off your blow dryer, you study your hair in the mirror, smoothing down any stray locks. Deciding you're pleased with the results, you leave your room to join Eddie for breakfast. The sound of Eddie and Steve talking and laughing in the kitchen brings a smile to your face as you descend the stairs. Their conversation continues as you enter the room. Reaching into the cabinet, you grab an empty mug and fill it with the coffee that sat waiting for you in the half-full pot. When you join them at the table, Eddie's hand moves to your leg, and Steve doesn't so much as glance in your direction. 

"I'm sorry I didn't wait for you." Eddie gestures to the bowl in front of him containing a small amount of colored milk and a few stray Froot Loops, "I'm gonna go smoke. Do you want me to stick some bread in the toaster for you?"

"Yes, please," you reply as you bring the mug to your lips and blow a little steam off before taking a sip. He drops a kiss on your head and stands to start your toast before heading out the sliding door. 

"Do you have plans today?" You ask Steve, keeping your voice light, trying to make conversation. But he doesn't answer you. He stands, taking his empty plate with him. 

"I'm sorry." 

Your words stop him mid-stride. He pauses for only a moment, keeping his back to you. His head lowers and shakes from side to side. 

"What are you sorry for?" The harsh tone of his voice startles you more than the plate breaking into pieces as he throws it into the sink. 

Your lips part but no sound escapes them. The emotions rampaging inside won't let you settle on a thought. 

"I shouldn't have lost my temper," his voice returns to even and normal as he picks up the shards and moves them to the trash, "I'm going to be late tonight. Don't bother with any dinner for me." Without another word, he leaves you alone. 

The new greens of spring are giving way to the vibrant deep hues of summer. There wasn't a cloud to be found in the clear blue sky, and the weather report on the radio promised a full day of perfection. The golden sun feels like a kiss against your skin, its warmth heating you from head to toe as you recline in your two-piece on one of the loungers Steve had set around the pool. Pushing the mirrored aviators higher on your nose, you look beside you at Leigh, lying on her stomach, flipping through a magazine. Deciding the weather was too good to enjoy alone, you called and asked her if she'd like to come over before her shift started. 

"All I'm saying is that Andrew would have been a much better match for Claire than Bender. I mean, how long do you think that's going to actually last?" Leigh muses.

"Don't be such a cynic. It could work out. Besides, Andrew and Ally are cute together." 

"Hello, ladies," Steve says as he slides the glass door shut behind him. Your eyes take in the sharp cut of his muscled shoulder before following the light trail of hair starting below his belly button and disappearing under the hem of his low-slung swim trunks.

"You're home early," you say, grateful that your sunglasses hide your ogling. No matter how often you see this man shirtless, the sight of his bare chest makes your throat dry. It doesn't help that you know the feeling of the bristly hair that covers his pecs rubbing against your skin. 

"It's too nice of a day to be inside," he walks between the loungers to set his Raybans on the table next to you, and you feel his eyes move over your body before he turns toward Leigh. "Hi. I'm Steve Harrington," he says, extending his hand to her.

"Oh, I know who you are," she says, sitting up to grasp his hand. Her cheeks bloom scarlet, and by the dumbfounded look on her face, one would think it was Emilio Estevez shaking her hand instead of Steve.

"This is Leigh," you tell Steve since the girl is too flustered to give him her name.

"It's nice to meet you, Leigh," he says, giving her a wink.

"Leigh works with me at Enzo's. She's a junior in high school," you say, ignoring the annoyed look that Leigh gives you for pointing that out. 

"Oh yeah? You must be happy that the year is almost over," he says, stepping onto the diving board, "I know Eddie is." He not so subtly reminds you that your boyfriend is also still in high school. With near-perfect form, he dives in and starts swimming laps back and forth across the pool.

"This is his house? You live with Steve Harrington?" Leigh asks you in an excited whisper. 

"Yeah. He's giving us a place to stay for a while," you shrug.

"Does he have a girlfriend?"

'I don't know. Maybe," you try to keep the irritation out of your voice as you watch Steve's long body slicing through the water.

After a few more laps, he pulls himself up the ladder. The water runs off his body, highlighting his fair skin dotted with freckles. He pushes his hair back as he walks over and takes a seat at the end of your lounger, dripping cool water on the heated skin of your legs. 

"If I had known they had such pretty girls working at Enzo's, I'd be eating there more often," he says, flashing Leigh a devastating smile. She giggles in response. 

"I'm going to get something to drink," you say, getting up and slipping on your sandals, not wanting a front-row seat to whatever this is leading to. 

The air in the house feels cool after being in the sun. Your flip-flops slap against the tile of the kitchen floor as you walk to the fridge and take out the pint of strawberries you had washed earlier. Biting into one, you let the sweet juice fill your mouth before taking a glass out of the cabinet and filling it from the tap. Steve comes in a minute later with a towel wrapped around his waist. 

"She's thirsty," he says in the way of explanation as he pulls two glasses from the cabinet. 

"I bet," you mumble, nibbling on another strawberry.

"What was that?" He asks, leaning over to snag one of the berries for himself. You're rendered temporarily speechless as you watch his lips close over the sweet flesh of the berry, leaving the crown between his fingers. 

"Nothing," you say, shaking your head to clear it. He moves to the fridge and pulls out a pitcher of lemonade to fill the glasses. 

"Think I should ask her out?" He takes a butter knife from the drawer and cuts a few strawberries to add to the glasses.

"Do whatever you want," you say, sipping your water, "it might be weird since I have to work with her, though." 

He can see right through your flimsy reasoning and doesn't even try to hide his cocky smile. He's about to say something else when the slider opens, and Leigh comes in from the pool. 

"I didn't realize it was so late. I have to leave for work," she says, grabbing the tote she left on the island earlier. She moves closer to Steve, "Do you want my number?" She asks him, batting her lashes, trying to look coy.

"Sure," he says, pulling out a pen and the pad of paper usually used for grocery lists from the drawer next to the sink. "It was nice meeting you," he says, taking back the pen once she's finished.

"Likewise," she says, walking backward and almost tripping," Thanks for inviting me. I'll see you at work." She waves to you as she leaves the kitchen. Steve waits to say anything else until he hears the click of the front door closing. 

"She's pretty cute, yeah? She certainly seems…eager," he says to you, smiling. 

"Who's eager?" Eddie asks, entering the room. He must have passed Leigh on her way out. 

"Leigh," you say flatly as he gives you a quick peck on the lips. 

"Oh yeah? You gonna ask her out? I say go for it, Harrington. The girl's a fox."

"What?" You raise an eyebrow at him and cross your arms over your chest. 

"Come on, baby. You know you're gorgeous, but I still have eyes," he says, trying to explain.

"She's hot, right?" Steve asks, raising his eyebrows and chuckling.

"Definitely," Eddie says, throwing an arm over your shoulder, "How well do you know this girl, baby? Maybe we can invite her next time we want to...spice it up."

Steve chokes on his lemonade, and you can feel the blood rushing to your face and neck. Fury. That's what you feel about his proposal. 

"I have an idea," you say, knocking Eddie's arm off your shoulder, "how about you two fuck yourselves and leave me out of it."

You can hear both boys giggling as you stomp up the stairs and slam your door.

"He's scorching hot. You are so lucky. You have no idea," Leigh says, practically swooning as she follows you around Enzo's with a stack of menus and hearts in her eyes.

"Yeah. Lucky me," you grumble, collecting the tip and stacking the dirty dishes from your last table onto a tray. It was an oddly quiet Friday night, leaving the staff plenty of time to dish, and apparently, you are on the menu. Twice now, you've approached the swinging kitchen door hearing laughter and excited murmurings from inside, but as soon as you cross the threshold, all conversation comes to a halt. Everyone is suddenly busy and unwilling to meet your eyes. 

"He hasn't mentioned me at all?" Nothing I'm going to tell you about. 

"Nope. Sorry. You know, Steve's just my roommate. I'm trying to focus on my boyfriend," you say in a clipped tone, adding a smile to soften your words. Picking up the tray, you start toward the kitchen.

"Yeah, I guess you would be," she says from behind you.

"What does that mean?" You ask, turning to face her. Her mouth snaps shut, and her eyes go wide. She hugs the menus to her chest while her face turns three shades of red.

"Just tell me, Leigh," you say impatiently, balancing the tray on your hip.

"Well…I don't think this," she stutters, her eyes looking everywhere but at your face. "Everyone is saying…now that everyone knows Eddie didn't kill Chrissy. They're wondering what they were doing together. That's all."

"Is that what everyone's gossiping about?" You ask, rolling your eyes and continuing to the kitchen with Leigh right behind you. The kitchen goes as quiet as a church as soon as you enter. Sighing loudly, you unload your tray. 

"Everyone knows that Eddie sells. That's not news," you say loud enough for the rest of the kitchen to hear, "Obviously, she wanted some weed," not one person in the kitchen looks up, even though they're clearly listening. Grabbing a bottle of cleaner and cloth, you leave the kitchen to finish cleaning your table.

"Hold this," you pass the cleaning supplies to Leigh who is sticking with you like a bad penny. Carefully, you fold the soiled table linens, so the crumbs don't fall to the floor. 

"It's just that..Eddie sells to people in the woods or out of his van, but no one's been to his place before." 

She's not wrong, and it's been on your mind since Eddie's return. At first, you were just happy to have him back, but he refuses to answer any questions about Chrissy or where he had been, or how the heck he wound up being best pals with Steve Harrington, and you don't know what to think.

"I don't know, Leigh," you trade the wrapped linens for the cleaner, "there was an earthquake. Everything was crazy. Why don't you tell me what happened?" Pausing, you wait for her response. 

She steps closer and lowers her voice,"They think Eddie and Chrissy were having an affair, and Jason found out. He caught them at Eddie's trailer, and he killed her. Then he tried to kill Eddie, but he got away, and Jason killed himself."

Bile rises in your throat, as you set down the cloth and cleaner with shaking hands. Your chest and neck heat, and you pause long enough to be sure your voice won't break as you answer. 

"He wouldn't do that. He loves me." 

"Of course, he wouldn't. It's just gossip," Leigh says, placing her hand on your arm. Her assurances sound sticky sweet, but they sour as they reach your ears.

"Can you finish for me? I need the ladies' room."

 Without waiting for an answer, you leave her with the mess. After turning the lock, you slide down the back of the closed door until you're sitting on the tiled floor, ignoring how gross it probably is. A few weeks ago you never would have entertained the idea that Eddie would ever cheat on you, then again you would have never entertained the idea of cheating on him. Despite whatever you feel for Steve, you have no doubt that you love Eddie, and he loves you. But now you understand how quickly feelings can be kindled and how a fire can quickly get out of control. The watch on your wrist tells you the restaurant will be closing in ten minutes, enough time to pull yourself together before Eddie picks you up. The cold water you splash on your face calms your heated cheeks and as you study your reflection in the mirror you wonder if maybe you deserve this. Or maybe he does.

"Are you sure I can't give you a ride?" Leigh asks for the tenth time. 

"I'm sure. Eddie will be here any minute. You don't have to wait," you say, crossing your arms across your chest, standing on the very edge of the curb while looking up and down the deserted street and rechecking your watch. 

"That's what you said forty minutes ago," she points out, "maybe he forgot?"

"He didn't forget. He has Hellfire tonight. He's just running late," the irritation inside you's bubbling like a pot about to boil over. It's clear Leigh's offer is more about her wanting to see Steve than her concern for you. 

"Oh, yeah. That's like a board game, right?"

"Something like that," setting down your purse, you use both hands to run circles on your temples.

"How old is Eddie?"

Before you can say something you may regret, a maroon BMW smoothly pulls up to the curb in front of you. Without another word to Leigh, you round the passenger side and climb into the waiting car. Steve gives her a little wave as he drives off toward home. 

"When did he call you?" You ask Steve after a few minutes of quiet.

"I dunno, about fifteen minutes ago," sinking back into the soft leather seat, you shake your head, "You know how they get when they're playing."

"Don't defend him," the passing lights fade in and out as you study his profile while his eyes stay fixed on the road. 

"Okay, I won't."

♡♡

"Will you come talk with me for a bit?" you ask, tipping your head to the side.

Steve flips the switch, lighting the foyer of the otherwise dark and quiet house. He drops his keys in the small stained glass bowl on the wooden console table just behind the door. A quick, sympathetic smile crosses his face as he lifts the strap of your heavy purse off your shoulder and places it next to his keys. He looks as worn out as you feel. 

"Nah, I'm going to go up," he hitches his thumb toward the stairs before resting his hands on his hips.

"Just for a few minutes," you tell him, grabbing hold of his hand, "Come on, I'll make us some tea," he lets you pull him into the kitchen and makes himself comfortable leaning against the counter as you fill the kettle from the tap. 

"How are things at the shelter?" the blue flame pops and comes to life as you adjust the knob on the cooktop before setting the kettle to boil.

"People are getting what they need. Most of the families have been set up in temporary housing. Soon there won't be much to do but serve meals," he chews thoughtfully on his lip as he watches you move about the kitchen. 

"That's good, right?" 

"Yeah. Definitely. What about you? How was your night?" 

"It was slow," the earthy sweet aroma of the herbal tea hits your nose as you lift the lid of the cardboard box, "Leigh was driving me crazy. She wouldn't stop talking about you," he stays quiet but one side of his mouth lifts into a smirk, "Are you hungry? I can make something to eat?"

The kettle begins to whistle, and you move it to another burner and turn off the flame while you wait for his reply. 

"You don't have to take care of me."

"I like taking care of you," steam rises out of the mugs as you pour the hot water from the kettle over the tea bags. 

"You're good at it. But I shouldn't get used to it," he runs his hands through his hair, "I'm always getting myself into these impossible situations with girls. The ones I take out, they're never right for me. And the ones that I like, I'm never right for them. The first week you were here, and I saw you with Eddie, I thought that's it. That's what I want, someone to give a shit, you know?"

"Steve, plenty of people give a shit. Nancy, Robin, me," you explain, placing your hand on his bicep.

"You have no idea of the irony in that statement," he chuckles and shakes his head.

Moving closer, you slip your arms around his waist, your thumb brushes against his belt loop, and you rest your head against the solid mass of his chest, listening to the thumping of his heart, "I care about you.. so much."

His chest expands as his breathing deepens, and his arms close around you, one big hand tangling in your hair, tipping your head back. His eyes work like a key in a lock, opening your heart so he can climb inside. 

"Not the way I want you to." 

"You're wrong," you shake your head, the truth slipping out so easily.

"It doesn't matter," he says, pulling away. His hands fall to your shoulders to gently loosen your hold. 

"No," panic builds as the word escapes, reminding you of that afternoon you begged him to stay. Knowing now, as you did then, if he leaves, it will be his last goodbye.

"We can't," his grip on your shoulders tightens, and he shakes you, trying to get you to understand.  

"I just want to be close to you. Please," the high pitch of your cracking voice sounds desperate, even to your own ears. 

"It's too hard," pain is visible on his face as he reaches back to unwrap your fingers from where they are digging into the skin of his back. 

Without a second thought, you stretch to your tiptoes and press your lips to his. Tears burn behind your closed eyes, and your heart pauses its beat in the loud silence of the moment, waiting to see if he'll return your kiss. His strong thick fingers smooth over the soft skin of your neck until his thumbs can angle your jaw. A low noise rumbles from his throat, and his decadent mouth opens to you. The kiss begins deep and delves further as he takes control. His plush lips work to taste every curve and dip of your mouth while his tongue slides against yours. Soft hmms and hums float on the air that escapes your hungry mouths as the desperation increases, and you pull him closer. His hands drift down your neck and move lower, lightly grazing your breasts before settling on your waist, where he's tugging the hem of your shirt free from your skirt and inching it up your stomach.

The creak of a heavy door slamming has him pushing you away and turning to face away from where Eddie is entering the room. Picking up your mug of tea, you sip the lukewarm liquid trying to hide your swollen lips. 

"What the fuck? Am I interrupting something?" Eddie asks, his eyes darting around the scene in front of him. 

Placing your mug on the counter, you walk around him without a word heading toward your room with the sound of his heavy footsteps behind you.

"You're mad at me?" Eddie asks incredulously once you shut the door to your room. 

"I'm not mad. I'm disappointed," you say, tucking a leg underneath as you sit on the bed and grab a pillow holding it in your lap like a shield.

"Jesus Christ. Thanks, Wayne," he paces back and forth while he scrubs his face with his hands, "Just because I was a few minutes late?"

"It's not because you were late. It's because I can't rely on you."

"Oh, but you can rely on Steve? Is that why the two of you jump apart and stop talking the minute I come in the fucking kitchen?"

Relief washes through you that he hadn't seen more, "This isn't about Steve. It's about you and me. I'm tired of being the only grown-up in this relationship," you say, keeping your eyes downward. The guilt you haven't even begun to process doesn't wipe away the fact that you and Eddie have problems that have been stacking up.

"The only grown-up…are you fucking kidding me?" he asks with a red face. He's never yelled at you before, and you can't stop the tears from slipping past the rims of your eyes. His voice wavers as he tries to hide his emotion, "I've got responsibilities coming out of my ass here. I don't need this shit from you. You and Steve can play house together. I'll go sleep in my fucking van."

The sound of the door slamming echoes through the house. Slumping forward, you cry into the pillow you've been clutching. Eddie's pillow. Tears soak through the material, and you inhale his scent, tobacco, shampoo, and a hint of old spice. He'd never been perfect, but you loved him anyway, the nervous boy sitting in the diner ordering pie he didn't want-just to be close to you. A short time ago, you thought you'd lost him for good, and now you're giving him up so easily. 

Before you can convince yourself letting him go is the right thing to do, your hand is on the doorknob, and you're running down the stairs. Pausing for only a moment as you reach the front door. Steve stands in the hallway, the air between you full of unspoken words. Turning away from him, you open the door. The pavement is cold and rough under your bare feet as you chase the taillights of Eddie's van down the driveway. But you're too late, or so you think, until brake lights blink on and the van comes to a stop. The driver's door opens, and Eddie steps out to catch you, wrapping you tightly in his arms. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," both of you say, speaking over each other. And you are, for so many things. Things you'll never tell him about.

"Where did we go, baby? We don't feel like us anymore. I'm losing you," he confesses, his voice thick and cracking. 

"No. No. I'm here, and I love you," you cry, pressed against his cheek. 

"Don't give up on me," he pleads.

Your hands grasp the sides of his face, moving him back so he can see your eyes, "I won't. I promise I won't," he pulls you tightly against him, and as you stand there while he slightly rocks you, you hope it's a promise you can keep. 

♡♡

Part 6

AN: Thanks for sticking with this story. I hope to wrap this up in maybe 2 more parts. OC Leigh was a tip of the hat to my good friend @loveshotzz. Congrats on your big milestone, kitten! Thanks for all your help. A big thanks to the rest of the squad all the late night ideas and read throughs. @myobmaya @boomhauer

♡♡

Tag List @boomhauer @onlyangel-444 @breehumbles @myobmaya @arsenicred @kiki17483 @stolen-in-moonlight @sometimesamysometimesjo @ladybug0095 @sammararaven @tlclick73 @munsonology @totally-bogus-timelady @katelyndestini95 @munsonswhore86 @kelsietilley-blog @figmentofquinn @champagne-glamour @ilovecupcakesandtea @bimbobaggins69 @munsonsgirl71 @sidthedollface2 @eddiessweetheart86 @miarosso @micheledawn1975 @eddiescorrodedcoffin86 @takeitsteddie @tiannamortis @sllooney @manda-panda-monium @prestinalove @sunfl0wern1kk1 @pbeckn26 @yogizzz @justmeandmymeanderingthoughts @samunson83 @spidey-fez @loving-and-dreaming

[warping-realities]

A Better Work Environment

Timothy couldn't help but smile at the last photo that Luke, his only source of torment at his job, posted on Instagram.

Anyone could imagine that the cause of Timothy's suffering would be some kind of aggressive behavior by Luke towards his colleague. Not that he wasn't used to being bullied, when you are skinny as a stick, in addition to being a certified nerd, the teasing and aggression were just another part of the package. No, the problem wasn't that Luke was violent, on the contrary, he was an extremely friendly guy, even though his posts showing off at the gym conveyed a different information. Too friendly, was what Timothy would say.

The truth is that Luke didn't fit in, it was ironic for such a thought to come from someone like Timothy who for most of his life had been part of the outcast group. But it turns out that in that job, a tech startup, Timothy was just one of the guys, while Luke was the outsider. But since he was the brother of the wife of one of the founders, Timothy and his colleagues were forced to put up with his irritating presence.

Turns out it wasn't just the fact that he didn't fit in with the work environment, or the fact that he barely knew what he was doing, getting in the way of everyone else's work, or the fact that he couldn't even follow the dress code of the company, as simple as it was. How could someone not wear the same gray T-shirt every day? And on top of that, showing up to work in the sweaty tank top he wore to the gym! Worst off all, he stank!!! That masculine scent of virility that makes Timothy…very irritable. But that still wasn't the biggest problem. The biggest problem was the fact that the idiot had decided they were friends! Friends! How was that possible if they had nothing in common? Not that the big asshole cared, spouting off stories about his gym workouts,the basketball season, weekend outings with his equally limited friends, and the endless string of women he bedded... extremely infuriating!

But that ended today, if Timothy would be forced to live with Luke, then let be a version he could have an affinity with. It had taken a long time, but he had finally gotten his father to hand him the Reality Warper, an ancient artifact with the ability to reset everything about the person it applied its power to. That particular object had been in his family's possession for generations and could only be used once by one person to impose his will on another and on that person's reality. Timothy's father relented after realizing the truth. Behind all that anger, his son was clearly in love with the other man, although he didn't have the courage to admit it.

So, sitting on a bench in the company locker room, Timothy waited with a smile on his face for his prey to arrive.

….

Timothy smelled him, before he saw his arrival, male sweat mixed with spray deodorant, it was unmistakable.

“Hello, Lucas” he said, widening his smile when he saw his objective in front of him.

Completely inappropriately dressed in a bright blue tank top and sweatpants, not realizing that soon his entire reality would be reset, Luke smiled back.

“Yo, Tim, my Bro, Whats Up?” He responds by raising his arm to give a fist bump and inadvertentrly coming into contact with the small metallic disc that Timothy was holding in his hand.

“What's going on, Lucas my dear, is that you and I are going to have a conversation, a life change conversation, I would say. Take off your shirt and sit down.”

Losing control of his body, Luke found himself forced to sit across from Timothy, the smile fading from his face.

“Tim, what's going ….? He started to say, quickly being interrupted.

“Hush, there is no need for you to speak.”

"Hmmm" mumbled Luke, his lips suddenly pressed together.

"Much better isn't it?" Timothy said, the smile on his face widening.

“You don't know how long I've waited for this moment Lucas. No more stupid conversations, no more dumb jokes, no more talk about women, no more inappropiete clothes , no more foul smell in the room!”

He concluded, releasing everything he had kept inside himself during all the time working with the other man. Placing the small metallic device at Luke's feet and thus starting an irreversible process. Quickly the small disk expanded surrounding him on all sides. Not knowing what to expect and praying for divine help that would never come, Luke closed his eyes.

Timothy carefully observed the structure that formed around his colleague, a giant vault, almost like a metallic cocoon. With its front part restructuring as if it were made of some kind of liquid metal, before solidifying again, featuring the carved image of a bearded man on its surface. Which made him think that maybe the object wasn't an ancient relic but a very advanced piece of technology from somewhere else. While his mind wandered between the possibilities of alternative realities, time travel or ancient alien civilizations, the "cocoon" changed again, now showing the carved image of a beardless man with glasses.

After a few more seconds, the surface of the structure became solid and smooth again, then the walls retracted as the reality warper returned to assume its unsuspected form. Thus revealing a completely different man in Luke's place. The toned physique revealed that this was someone who still exercised, but not someone who treated the gym as the most important thing in his life. The clean-shaven face and thick glasses combined with a shy smile gave off a dorky vibe, which was completed when the young man spoke in a nasal voice:

“Sorry, Timothy what did you say?”

Timothy was speechless, before him was his ideal man!

“Timothy? I'm sorry, but if you don't mind, I'd like to take a shower. I'm smelling bad after the gym, I hate that feeling” Said the new Luke taking off his glasses and getting ready to take a shower.

"Lucas?"

"Yes?"

"Before you take your shower, there's something I need you to do." Said Timothy approaching his colleague.

“Of course, just ask.”

“I want a kiss from my sweaty boyfriend.” He said smiling.

“But I stink, I thought you were disgusted by it.”

"Right now I don't care, Lucas."

Smiling back at his boyfriend, Lucas walked over to Timothy and gave him a long, passionate kiss.

….

Timothy's life had completely changed. Lucas was a diligent co-worker with an engineering degree and advanced calculus skills, always completing his assignments with agility and even helping Timothy complete his on occasion. In addition the two spent their free time animatedly debating a wide variety of subjects, from expectations for the Doctor Who anniversary specials with the return of David Tennant and Russell T Davies, or whether Guardians of The Galaxy Vol. 3 would be the last Marvel's movie with a soul, or what to expect from James Gunn's work ahead of DC films.

Timothy even allowed himself to be convinced to go to the gym with his boyfriend a few times a week and started a much more appropriate diet under Lucas's influence, which resulted in the gain of some muscles and a much healthier appearance. Not to mention their sexual activity, they might be a couple of nerds, but that didn't mean they were celibate, their neighbors would reveal just the opposite if anyone asked them.

Now they were both in line at the movie theater waiting to watch the new Indiana Jones movie. Timothy wearing a black T-shirt with a geek pun and Lucas the company's gray T-shirt.

“Babe, you could have at least put on another shirt.” Timothy said to his boyfriend.

“Timothy, you know our work is the most important thing in my life besides you. I wear this shirt everywhere with the utmost pride.”

Apparently some things not even a reality modifier device could completely change. Luke's love for the gym morphed into Lucas' love for his work. But Timothy would never complain about that, he got a fantastic boyfriend, a great co-worker and a much better work environment!

[lisannastraussisanangel]

Absolutely begging you do to a part 3 where they somehow manage to bring Lucy back, I need hugs and celebration my heart can’t handle it

I suppose I can heal the pain I've caused lol

It takes way longer than they planned for fix Lucy. I'm talking a couple years.

Because of this, Lucy has gotten used to floating around and spying on people. So now she has a terrible habit of knocking things over, falling over, and getting way to personal (physically and mentally) with members

It's Lucy who figures out how to come back so she get's the joy of surprising everyone

She goes after Happy first. Revenge is sweet

He's walking home alone from the guild and Lucy sneaks up behind him and grabs him. He screams in pure terror

But then when he sees it's Lucy and she's really there, he buries his face in her chest and starts sobbing.

They sit like that on the street for way to long just hugging

Natsu smells Lucy on Happy when he comes home so Natsu knows she's back (or at least he's hoping his nose isn't lying to him)

He runs out of the house and searches for her (because why wouldn't she go see him next)

Lucy is standing there in the walkway, almost sheepishly. Natsu freezes at first and just stares

It doesn't last long because soon he's tackling her. Lucy tries to be mad at him but she's so happy to be actually touching him that she just giggles as he clutches her tightly

Natsu wasn't able to smell her while she was a ghost so he sniffs her pretty hard, missing her scent (Lucy actually lets him do it too)

Wendy had helped come up with the spell to return Lucy to her body, but hadn't actually been there when Lucy successfully did it

So Wendy is stuck in the library trying to figure out new ways to improve the spell (they had several failed attempts so Wendy was always tweaking things)

Lucy simply comes up and sits on the desk next to her. Wendy is so buried in her research that she doesn't even smell her

She just assumes that its Lucy's 'ghost'. Well, until Lucy snatches the book from her hands

Wendy literally shrieks. I'm talking the loudest, most high pitched scream ever

And Lucy is once again tackled. Giggling all the way to the floor

Carla had seen it coming so she simply hugged Lucy and welcomed her back to the land of the living

Having heard Wendy's scream, Erza came running into the room. She was so confused when she saw the three women on the ground giggling

Lucy stood quickly and walked up to Erza. Erza was skeptical of what Lucy would do (ghost Lucy is a bit of a menace)

Without a word, Lucy pulled Erza into the tightest hug known to man

Well, she thought it was a tight hug, until Erza hugged her back and nearly broke all her ribs

Lucy had to tap out of it, but held Erza's hand the rest of the day

Erza didn't cry then, but that night she was the first to go to Lucy's house and cried into her arms about how much she missed her

The rest of the team showed up at Lucy's apartment that night. Something they had been doing since Lucy first turned into a 'ghost' (they figured they should make use of Lucy's space since they were paying the rent)

Everyone apart from Gray knew Lucy was physically back. So while they are all chatting, Gray tries to walk through Lucy (a habit he picked up because she kept trying to block his paths to things)

He ran straight into her and nearly slammed her into the doorframe. Lucy yelled at him because wth and then realized "oh shit, we didn't tell Gray"

He freaked out and lifted her off the ground as he hugged her.

He tried not to cry, but Lucy started bawling instead because now her could touch her whole team. This caused Gray to cry as well

Pretty soon everyone was crying all over again and Lucy was pulled into a group hug

They all cuddled her that night as well. No one wanted to take their hands off her for fear that she would disappear again

(Also Gray was pissed that everyone knew besides him and didn't say anything... there was a fight)

[perpetualproductions]

Never Be The Same- Chapter 4:

Life in the City

- Marie tells Jordan about the crash. They discuss their futures. Jordan makes a call. Also, what happened to the table?

(Title song: Life in the City by The Lumineers)

CW: this one's pretty chill again.

3k words

<-Previous | Next->

Marie’s keys jingle as she fishes them out of her purse and goes to unlock the front door to her apartment. The moment she begins to push the door open, the handle suddenly yanks out of her hand as Emma appears before her. She gives Marie a quick welcome as she hastily pulls Marie into the apartment. “Hey Marie! Welcome home! I gotta go, don't want to be late! Byeeee!” She closes the door as soon as she's out in the hall. 

Marie is left standing there, very confused by her friend's behavior. I mean, she knew Emma was taking the late shift today, but she still had plenty of time to walk to the diner. Marie was a little late getting home because of the whole car accident, but still… strange. She turns away from the door, shaking off the confusion and is met with Jordan sitting on the couch in their fem form. They seem to have changed their clothes from earlier this morning, now sporting a plain white t-shirt and gray sweats. They are also holding a mug, taking gentle sips as they watch what looks to be Office reruns. Marie puts her purse down and hangs up her coat near the door, then slowly makes her way over to the back of the couch. 

Jordan jolts a little when they feel hands rest on their shoulders, but immediately relaxes when they realize they're Marie's. They look up and see Marie smiling down at them, the same smile finding its way into their own face. “Hello there.”

“Hi,” Marie replies sweetly, running her hands down Jordan's arms and lowering her head to give them a gentle kiss.

Jordan hums as Marie pulls away, a smile still stuck to their face. “Good day?”

“Guess you could say that.” Marie makes her way around the couch, sliding in right next to Jordan. She kisses them one more time before continuing. “I sort of saved a man's life today.”

“Wait, really?” Marie nods and Jordan puts their mug down on the coffee table, pausing the TV before fully turning to face Marie. “What- that's awesome! What happened?” Jordan says, genuinely excited for Marie. They know how hard it is for Marie to accept that she's a real hero sometimes, and especially hard to see that her powers aren't only meant for hurting people (or herself). They've seen her use her abilities to heal before. Hell, the first time they saw her powers was when she healed that girl at the club their first night out. They never doubted her hero potential since then. 

“There was a car crash when I was making my way home. I saw it happen right down the street from me, and without thinking I started running towards the two cars. In one car, there was a guy, who turned out to be a doctor by the way, and I healed a large gash on his head. He also had a broken leg, bone sticking out and all, super gross. But yeah, I couldn't really heal that but I stopped the bleeding.” Marie explained the whole scene, gesturing about, and Jordan was super invested in every word she said, smiling as Marie explained her great feats of the evening. “So yeah, he said he'd be fine, and he's a doctor so I trusted that he would be, so I made my way over to the other car. There was a man in the driver's seat, completely passed out, and I realized immediately that his heart wasn't beating,” 

“He had a heart attack behind the wheel?” Jordan interjected, eye brows shooting up in surprise.

“Yup. I mean, that's definitely a scary time to have a heart attack, right when you're driving. But luckily it was only the two of them that were hurt. I was able to use my powers to get his blood flowing again and his heart beating. Then paramedics got there so I backed off and came home.”

“Wow. Marie, that's amazing! Your powers are so cool. You're so cool.” Jordan exclaims, squeezing Marie's arms and looking at her with pure adoration. 

Marie smiles back at Jordan, loving their enthusiasm. But of course, she just shrugs it off. “It's not that big a deal-”

“No, Marie. We're not doing this minimizing bullshit. It is a big deal! You saved a dudes life, Marie! That's fucking awesome!” Jordan bounces up and down a bit, still grabbing onto Marie's arms and causing her to giggle at the situation. “Nobody else can do what you do, Marie. I'm pretty sure that doctor couldn't've saved that man's life as fast as you did.”

“Don't think he could've done much with a broken leg.” Marie added, getting a look from Jordan in response.

“You know what I mean. Just accept it, you're a hero. And I'll remind you everyday if that's what it takes for you to believe it too.” Jordan says with a tone that makes Marie think they might actually be serious about that.

“I appreciate the compliment but please don't actually do that.”

“Then say it.” Jordan says, leaning back and crossing their arms.

“Say what?”

“You're a hero.” 

Jordan and Marie sit there looking at each other for a good few seconds. Jordan raises an eyebrow trying to get them to go on and repeat the phrase. Marie exhales, giving in as she repeats in defeat. “Fine… I'm a hero.”

A smile stretches on Jordan's face at their success. “It'd be better if you actually believed it, but I'll take it.”

Marie mirrors their smile back, relaxing in their presence. It's not like she doesn't want to believe it, she just can't see herself as a hero. Not after everything that she has done, all the people she's hurt. She knows it's ridiculous and that all that stuff wasn't actually her fault, but it's just hard to break out of an image that you've seen yourself in for so long. Jordan and Emma both try to remind her every day how good of a person she is, so maybe one day she will believe it as much as they do. She pulls herself closer to them, moving to hold Jordan's hands in hers. “If it makes you feel any better, I do believe that you believe I'm a hero.”

Jordan breathes out a small laugh, “I can believe for the both of us in the meantime. I know you'll see it too one day. It's inevitable.”

“Inevitable?” Marie repeats, raising an eyebrow at the choice word. 

“Oh yeah, there isn't a future I can think of where you're not saving people for a living.” They say matter of factly, a bit of playfulness in their voice.

“Oh really? You've been thinking about my future?” Marie teases, enjoying the blush in Jordan's cheeks.

“Maybe?... just a little.” Jordan lifts their hand as they hold their pointer and thumb close together and squint their eyes. “But am I wrong?”

“I mean, no. Of course I want to help people. Save people however I can. But I don't know how I can do that for a living. There’s vigilantism, but that's kinda illegal without a license from fucking Vought. Which is 100% a no go.”

“Right…” Jordan nods along, understandably. “But, there are other ways to help people. Just think of how non-supes help people. Police, firefighters, doctors.” Jordan pauses thinking for a moment. “Wait a second. You'd be a great doctor! I mean, you can control blood. You know, the very thing that keeps us alive? Just think of all the people you could help. You can sense their heart rates, see if they're bleeding - internally or externally- or detect things in their blood. Holy shit, you could 100% be a doctor.”

Marie thinks for a moment, genuinely thinking over everything Jordan has said. They're right, they could do all of those things and more fairly easily with her abilities. She hadn't really thought about it before, all the benefits of what her powers could do in terms of people's health. I mean, she's healed people before, sure. Stopped bleeding, healed wounds, restarted hearts. She thinks back to the doctor she healed earlier today, what he had said to her about her powers and how useful they could be. Really thinking about it, it almost seems ridiculous that she hasn't thought about this before. She's been back and forth for a while on what she actually wanted to do with her life, what major she’d pick when she went back to college. What she could have a career in that didn't involve being a Vought puppet. She considered the force, maybe a PI, but a doctor… 

“I could be a doctor…”  she repeats slowly, looking back at Jordan, staring at them as she processes her thoughts. Suddenly, she pulls them back in for a hug, “Oh my god, Jordan! You're a fucking genius!” She pulls away and gives them a hard kiss on the lips, before getting up off the couch. 

“Uh, you're welcome.” Jordan looks up at Marie, smiling at the sudden outburst of affection. “I'm assuming you like the idea?”

“Yes! Fuck. I have to start applying to med schools. What are the best med schools in the country?” She looks around the room for a moment, searching for the laptop that they've all been sharing, courtesy of Andre of course. 

“Laptop’s over here.” Jordan says, pulling the laptop off the side table and onto their lap. They open it up and begin typing. Marie goes back over and sits back down, leaning against Jordan as they search away. 

—

The two spend the next couple hours doing what they've been doing for the past few days; applying to colleges and scholarships and doing research on which schools had what they were both looking for. Both of course applied to most of the Ivy league schools and other prestigious schools in the area. They didn't want to venture far from their immediate vicinity, opting to at least stay in the north east side of the country. Except this time, Marie actually knew what she wanted to do, taking her time to look through the best med schools and programs in the country, genuinely excited by the thought of being able to help people and save lives for a living, using her powers in a way she couldn't've imagined a year ago. In a way that Annabeth could be proud of.

Jordan on the other hand, wasn't so sure what they wanted to major in. They had enough credits from Godolkin to at least cover the general education requirement, leaving them the next two years to focus on a major. They debated on going back to crime fighting, but really hated the prospect of working for Vought. Maybe criminology? They always enjoyed their forensics class, but they weren't sure they wanted to spend all day in a lab for the rest of their life. They weren't too bad with technology either, so maybe computer science or cyber security. They even thought about taking the doctor route with Marie, but it just didn't seem as appealing to them as it did for her, and they wanted to let her have her own thing. 

There wasn't much that they could use their powers for. They were more made for physical combat situations. Brink had literally described them as ‘the perfect weapon’ before, which they were. Both quick and steady, hard to hit and able to take a hit. Offense and defense in one being. So they debated law enforcement, which would be like crime fighting without the supe part. They could help people, protect them, catch bad guys, and it wouldn't be under Vought. But… Vought was still the fucking problem. Since Vought exists, police aren't really needed as much, more there to patrol the public and if something did happen, they would call Vought to bring in the closest supe to deal with whatever crime was being committed. Jordan didn't want to be on crowd control while fucking homelander ‘saved the day’. So yeah, no point in that. 

Jordan started to truly despise their situation. Sure, they were very grateful for their powers, mostly the whole gender switching part. But if it weren't for compound V and all the other abilities that came with it, they wouldn't feel so restricted with what they could do with their life. There were only so many paths a supe could take. Become a crime fighting supe for Vought, a famous Supe actor for Vought, or be detained and possibly experimented on by Vought. Or you could try to be a normal nobody who keeps their head down and doesn't use their powers in public too often, in fear of Vought. So yeah, Jordan really hates the fucking world right now, mostly because Vought is in it. But over the last few months (especially after being around Marie Moreau more often), they realized that there are other ways to do things, they just had to discover them. How Marie just did with the whole doctor thing. But they were lagging behind, which just made them more frustrated. A phone call from their parents did not help at all…

It started off as a simple check-in. Jordan was very aware that they've been avoiding their family, but they were really just avoiding their parents (mainly their dad). Regardless, they did want to check in and see how their siblings were doing. They felt a bit bad leaving them with their ever bickering parents, but were happy that they finally didn't have to deal with it themselves. It's not like they could do much about it, their sister was 16 and their brother was only 12. It's not like Jordan could take them with them, and it's not like they wanted to or had to either. Their parents were annoying, but they weren't abusive. Jordan had their own thing going on between them and their parents, but their siblings were fine. They weren't supes and, as far as Jordan knew, they didn't have any gender fuckery going on. 

So yeah, Jordan called, talked with mom, talked about Claire and Matthew (sister and brother, respectively), talked about dad, then talked with dad. By the end they were having an argument with both their parents (as fucking expected), all about college and Jordan's future and whatnot. Jordan once again insisted that their living situation was fine, that they have a job, and are in the process of applying to schools. What their parents didn't take so well was Jordan's intention of no longer majoring in crime fighting and going to the seven. After about an hour or two of going back and forth (hanging up at least twice, just to be called back), their parents eventually relented and gave Jordan a deal. Basically, as long as Jordan majors in something with good future prospects that will lead them to a successful career, they would pay for their tuition. But they would have to pick from one of the options their parents gave them and stick with it. Jordan hated the idea at first, but one of their options was cybersecurity, and they had to make up their mind at some point, so they agreed. They gladly hung up for the last time that night, not before their father told them how disappointed he was in them for their life decisions, but that just solidified the fact that they wouldn't be calling them again for a while. 

A few hours rolled by and Jordan and Marie were done with applying for the day. It was getting late and Emma wouldn't be home for another hour, so they decided to pick up and head to bed early tonight. As they were about to make their way to the bedroom, Marie stopped and turned around. She had been getting the feeling that something was different with the space ever since she got home from work, and it hadn't clicked till now, exactly what was missing. “Jordan…”

Jordan stopped walking and turned around to face Marie, who was still standing in the middle of the living room, looking towards the kitchen. “Yeah?” They responded slowly, a bit of worry laced in their voice. 

Marie turns around to face Jordan, a confused and questioning look on her face. “Where did the table go?” 

Jordan moves to look behind Marie, looking at the empty space where the kitchen table used to be. “Table?... What table?” 

Marie's eyes narrow as she steps closer to Jordan. “You know, the kitchen table. The one we had breakfast at this morning, before I had to run to work?”

Jordan's eyes are wide as they try to come up with the best way to go about this conversation, and not really finding it. “Right… that table. Umm… I don't know. Maybe Emma did something with it.” They shrug their shoulders, avoiding eye contact with Marie.

“Is that why she was in such a rush earlier? What did you two do with the table?” She's just straight up asking now. 

“It's nothing bad.” They try to reassure her. 

“Nothing bad? Well that makes me feel better.” Marie replied sarcastically.

“It's really nothing to worry about… we're going to IKEA tomorrow, by the way.” Jordan adds.

Marie pauses for a second. “Do I even want to know?” 

“No. You don't. It's really not worth it.” Jordan says with 100% surety. They switch to their male form, their big brown doe eyes on display. “Can we just go to bed and talk about it in the morning? Please?” They plead with Marie. 

“... Fine. You're lucky I'm exhausted right now.” She says, resuming her walk towards the bedroom, Jordan following after her.

“I love you.” Jordan says as they enter the room.

“Yeah yeah, just get over her and let me cuddle you.” Marie says tiredly as she pulls her pants off and crawls into bed. 

“Yes ma'am.” Jordan says with a makeshift salute as they follow suit.

They both get into bed, Marie opting to be the big spoon, despite Jordan being in their larger form, but they don't mind it at all. The two cuddle together tightly before drifting off to sleep, Marie secretly dreaming of what could have possibly happened to that table, all scenarios sitcom worthy.

--

I'd say you have around a chapter or two till things start picking up. Anyways, thank you so much for reading this far! I appreciate it very much. Please feel free to leave comments on your thoughts or where you think this story might go. It's a little early to tell, but I'd like to see what you think so far. Thanks again to Venus (@paperdoll201 💜) for putting up with my long Limoreau rambles. Appreciate it.

Anyway, thanks for reading. Have a nice day!

Much love, 😎👍❤️

-PB

(what happened to the table???)

[neuroprincess]

Simili - The Executioner

Professor!Agatha Harkness/Student!Female Reader

Fanfic Chapter List

Summary: A series of murders start to scare the small town of Westview when young university students turn up dead on campus, soon Y/N seems to be connected to the victims somehow. Determined to find the author of these atrocities, she can trust no one, not her family, friends, and even less the local police, except the only person really willing to help her, the professor Agatha.

Warnings: Trauma in the subtext, sorry

Word count: +2500

"I watch attentively as the molten bronze falls through the mold, boiling, shining, filling every gap that will form a beautiful image, just as the fire fills and consumes me inside to one day become a person, for now I'm just a mold, even though bronze already runs through my veins, it's in my blood, it's who I am." 

As an omen of dark days and in response to recent events, the sky has darkened, turning the bright ones into a mist of mourning. Everything is gray, the animated conversations have become murmurs and, even if they hide it very well, fear pervades the corridors. The academic staff have told everyone that there is nothing to fear and no reason to, but how could they not fear a brutal murder on campus? The image of the man in their memories, haunting some dreams, meanwhile seems to be the entertainment of others who can't stop talking about it as if it were a kind of gossip. Young people are stupid, that's what Y/N thinks as she goes along her usual route, trying not to stare for too long at certain groups that gather on corners, enthusiastic whispers and cunning words, dozens of theories being born. No one really knew Jareth Redd apart from the fact that the name was on the staff and his visits, which could easily go unnoticed among the suited men who administer the university. She... she remembers the yellowed and pointed teeth showing in a smile not warm at all, almost sickly from how forced it was, the eyes that lingered too long and the soft speech that could engage anyone. And she doesn't like to talk or even think about him. That's why she's silent while friends chatter away, trying to keep her mind off other things like new classes or the fact that it hasn't stopped raining, two days and three nights in a row, the puddles are piling up at the exits, there's no umbrella to withstand the gale and at the same time there are a dozen reporters surrounding every gate. It's annoying how they insist on asking questions that no one has answers to and when don't get what they want, induce those answers, distorting phrases to make headlines in the local newspaper, main posts on websites and bloggers too. After days, they're still seen standing on the other side of buildings, trying to take photos or at least catch a glimpse, it's hard to have a big news story like this in hand in a considerably small town. A promising opportunity. 

"I heard he had a mistress and the wife ordered his death..." Wanda whispers to friends, there had been several rumors spreading in her previous classes "And the mistress is a university student, from here."

"He wasn't married." Y/N comments without thinking, immediately dismissing another created story, although she knows that if he were married it would probably be true "There was no ring on his finger." she tries to take some of the attention off herself when realizes that the group is staring with curiosity.  

"You're very observant, darling." Darcy compliments and smiles sweetly, approaching her who walks ahead faster than the others "Is everything all right?" she asks in a whisper, worried, since everything happened her friend has been quieter than normal, which isn't surprising considering how traumatizing seeing the scene had been.  

"Hum, yeah... yeah... I'm just a bit distracted today. I still have a couple of classes to finish the day." she shrugged and sighed, feeling tiredness along with the sleepless nights take over her body "And you?"  

"Just one more, how about we meet at the Planet later?"  

"I'll come along!" the redhead says, just behind them, listening attentively "But I'll be late, our practice has been postponed until late afternoon."  

"The debating club too." Monica says dejectedly, many classes have been canceled and events postponed "Maybe we won't go at all." she points at Jimmy, he agrees. 

They quickly get back to chatting about trivial things, like celebrity affairs or how much they hate a specific professor; to Y/N's relief, Redd is no longer mentioned. However, the walk is long, too much for her taste, feeling exhaustion in every part of body. From neurons synapsing a millisecond slower to feet that don't seem to obey the mind screaming that at this rate she'll be late. A bolt of lightning flashes across the sky, illuminating the dim corridor and the noise makes all her hairs stand on end, like a dose of caffeine, it wakes her up almost immediately, senses heightened and eyes alert, suddenly there's a lot going on around. A bunch of architecture students, if she remembers correctly, walk past them, judgmental looks alongside curious stares, all pointed in one direction, Y/N. They don't even try to hide it. This irritates and embarrasses her at the same time, she has never particularly liked being the center of attention, since childhood preferred to be on the sidelines, just an observer and now, after letting instincts lead her to that scene, she has become the last thing wanted. She involuntarily stares back at them, until finally she loses sight, and swallows her saliva, realizing the consequences of that day. But she... needed to confirm what resembled one of the recurring nightmares she's had, the ones that still torment her in the middle of the night and make her feverish. All seems very surreal. The water running under feet, wet grass, red taking over green, white and gray, the statue she had never paid attention to appeared to express itself as it held him in arms, between pain and compassion for a loved one who was gone. Such irony, she thought to herself, smiling without noticing.  

"Hey!" Wanda calls as she approaches, increasing speed to keep up with them "I have to do something before class, I might be late, could you save a seat for me?" and without giving a chance for an answer, the other girl takes off down the corridors, everyone there knows what she went to do and with whom, no one comments anything.  

"Good luck with your new classes, I hope and pray I didn't scare you about SHE." the brunette whispers, feeling a bit guilty.  

"Nah, I'll be fine." Y/N shrugged and winked at her "By the way, I don't want to be late, so I'm going. See you later!"   

"See you..."   

Without even trying to hear what her friend wants to say, she heads towards the stairs to the second floor, where the classroom is located. It's not as if she can pay attention to any real words or advice, it just goes in one ear and out the other, through the fog that her mind has fallen into. She's thankful that the floor is practically empty compared to the first, so she doesn't have to face the people staring at her or fill herself with questions about what the hell they must be thinking, away from judgmental, malicious and biased speculation. For God's sake, they don't even know her name and that doesn't prevent invented rumors from circulating in every part of the campus. 

"I'm sorry, I was distracted..." she begins to explain immediately when feels herself hit another body, both almost fall to the ground due to the impact, but hold on to each other avoiding it, the younger raises face and, surprise, releases her, kept safe by the arms that continue to hold her by the waist firmly against herself, so close, face to face "You... I mean... Well, I, actually..." the words are jumble in the midst of so much nervousness, her throat dries up immediately and hands tremble. 

"Watch where you're going next time." the woman says slightly annoyed and lets her go after making sure she can stand. Then straightens the coat she's wearing, fixes the glasses that slipped down the nose during the collision "Are you hurt?"  

"No, I'm fine. And you?" she asks, nervousness evident in her voice. The woman, the same one who hugged and cried in her arms, is so different from how she remembers.  

The eyes, previously swollen and darkened by pain, are a clear, soft blue, expressive and gentle, capable of seeing through any soul, from the purest to the most bruised, contradicting the indifferent expression on her delicate features. Long eyelashes frame them, accompanied by well-defined eyebrows, outlined nose and perfectly drawn mouth, a mature beauty that makes Y/N melt immediately. The air is stolen from her lungs and a sudden need arises to look minimally presentable, internally regretting her modest clothing, slightly disheveled hair and the miserableness of her appearance in general. A little embarrassed, she runs fingers through locks in an attempt to straighten them. 

"More than fine." the brunette reacts indifferently and stares at her from head to toe, making the student even more tense "Now, if you don't mind." she mutters, checking the handbag before continuing to walk in the opposite direction, without a second glance.  

The stranger's phantom touch makes her skin burn, a weird sensation begins to consume her, an emptiness that hits her straight in the chest. Y/N sighs in defeat, feeling the world trying to create a small conspiracy so that nothing is forgotten or, as she prefers, buried seven feet under next to his corpse. Very dead, waiting to be consumed by the worms, who, even though they are worms, are about to taste the dirtiest thing they've eaten in a short lifetime. The poison intrinsic in the cold and sickly flesh, time destroying it, just as it should with all the secrets and deeds in life. In the end, all she wants is for this person to disappear from existence, to leave her alone. No matter how much she's being pulled into the small loose parts of a complex puzzle, by which she means people and anything related, begging to be seen, she prefers to blind herself. Repeating, for the hundredth time in the week, that everything ended the minute a heart stopped beating. 

"Right, right, everything's fine now." she murmurs, impatient for letting these thoughts, ideas and... some memories surface "Class! I have to be in class." quickly checks the room number on the timetable.  

It takes her a while to find the correct number in the long corridor, among the various identifications that scramble in her blurry vision, sometimes she forgets how big the campus can be. From the high walls raised in raw brick to the statues molded by the hands of the graduates themselves, every detail drawn on Westview's timeline, the pride of the small town. The Mythology professor's auditorium lives up to this, rows of chairs down wide staircases, at least fifty empty seats, the walls are filled with paintings probably worth more than her life, along with dozens of historical decorations, at the end there is a stage that seems untouchable, so clear and organized, a large table in the center, behind it two shelves full of old books and a blackboard already scribbled on. The cursive letter written in impeccable calligraphy.   

Heels tapping against the laminate floor attract attention and a figure emerges from the adjoining door, walking at a slow, glorious pace to the table, those thick-framed glasses stuck on the end of her nose as she seems to concentrate on reading the local paper.  

"Are you going to continue staring at me or find a seat for yourself? Class starts soon." the woman, the same one from the fountain and the corridor, says loud and clear, sitting down without even looking up "And keep quiet." 

Y/N just nods in shock and does as she's told, looking for one, having the privilege of choosing anyone since nobody but her has arrived yet, ending up somewhere in the middle. And not a single student shows up for the next ten minutes. She begins to wonder if there will be any more or if a second thing has happened in the week to bring everyone together, doubt makes the atmosphere tense, not only because of her concern, also for the indifference she feels coming from the other woman. It's almost as if she despises the girl without even knowing her, which only reinforces what Darcy warned about earlier and makes her believe that she is, in fact, an executioner. How will the next lessons be if this is just a taste of what's to come? Not to mention the visible connection between her and the late chancellor. As the clock ticks down, the hope of having a partner in the battle for the first class is fading and, like a heroine on a winged horse, Wanda finally appears. The loud banging of the double door draws the attention of the only people there, which earns her a disapproving look, she doesn't mind.  

"Honey, I'm home!" she jokes, taking a seat next to Y/N "Can you believe I couldn't find him anywhere? So I gave up wandering around campus like a silly cockroach. Did I miss anything?"  

"Class hasn't even started." 

 "At this pace it won't, will it always be empty like this?" she whispers noticing the older woman's deadly stare now directed at them, the newspaper forgotten on the wooden surface "I wouldn't be surprised at her fame."  

"I have very good hearing, Maximoff." the brunette says suddenly, standing up and showing off her elegant figure without a coat; no one noticed that she had taken it off, revealing a beautiful navy blue dress that clings to curves and accentuates all attributes "And you should know that my fame doesn't even come close to what it's really like being in my class."  

At this point, Y/N doesn't even care anymore about the reputation of an executioner or how the hell she's going to deal with it for the rest of an entire semester, her eyes are fixed on the lines that outline the impeccable body and she can't help but admire her beauty. If she didn't have the slightest bit of self-control, surely she'd be drooling with reason. But she's certain to be blushing deeply and is grateful that the attention is on her friend.  

"Well, you two are new, so I'll be kind enough to go over a few simple rules. First of all, time, anyone arriving after the agreed time won't be allowed in. I'm not going to waste my voice for nothing, so be quiet, pay attention and take notes. And, most importantly, no smartphones."  

"But..." Wanda tries to protest only to be interrupted immediately, with no chance to say anything or assimilate indignation. 

"That's all!" the professor takes two steps forward and stares at them for a moment, blue irises fixed on Y/N before returning to speak "Welcome to Cosmogonic Mythology! I am Miss Harkness, besides teaching I'm in charge of the history department..."  

The words become garbled and the younger can't concentrate on the introduction to the subject, even though she knows all the difficult words need to be written down and some knowledge absorbed, nothing seems to enter her head. She is paralyzed, without reaction. It's really happening, there's no escape. At the same time as being enchanted by the professor, she is also frightened, fearing that she might read her soul and pull out the deepest secrets, because, like a magnet, they can't take their eyes off each other. 

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