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jjuzoir · 4 years ago

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Random Kageyama Tobio HCS

Word Count: 1851

Warnings: just... me being in love with a m*n other than masumi 😔 also! these are my headcanons as in,,, what i personally i think he’d be like ‼️ also me projecting my ideal man into him (as if he wasn’t it already 😋)

A/N: i... i love tobio so much it’s literally unreal... i couldn’t wait for a request (i’m still working on the remaining 4 too lolol) so take me projecting my love for tobio >:(

— Kageyama normally wears loose fitting clothes or athletic-style clothing. His favorite go to outfits tends to be a loose tee, some loose pants with an obnoxious Nike logo he swears are super cool but look like two garbage bags sewed together, and running shoes. Throw a hoodie in there for colder weather, even then he still manages to look good.

— He takes very good care of his hair, like freaky good care, because of Miwa. Once she enrolled in cosmetology school and she saw Kageyama use the same baby shampoo from when they were kids she freaked out (if she’d been any later he’d start using 3-in-1) and chewed his ear off about hair care. His hair is super shiny and there’s literally no freeze, he uses nice smelling shampoo and conditioner too. Ugh, I love him.

— He has a very sensitive nose but it gets clogged easily so he doesn’t notice much unless it miraculously unclogs itself and he’s complaining about everything.

— “Eh! Hinata, why’d you smell like a fucking axe bottle?!” “Why does no one say anything about Tsukishima smelling like strawberries?” “Yamaguchi smells like... milk.” “Hah?! Sugawara smells bad-?!”

— He says he’s a picky eater to appear cool but as long as you don’t say what’s in the food he’ll down it. He’ll say he doesn’t like carrots but if you give him a salad with carrots he might even say “it’s the best salad he’s ever had”.

— He’s a hot sleeper, and not in the “oh he’s sexy” type of way. I’m talking, he’ll sweat buckets if he sleeps with anything other than a flimsy white t-shirt and his underwear.

— Might be me projecting my love for bunny teeth but he has bunny teeth, his front teeth are a bit bigger than average (not to the point it’s super noticeable but it’s still something Miwa teased him about), his aunties probably squeezed his cheeks and called him “baby bunny” when he was younger.

— He doesn’t go to sleep later than 9PM, he thinks if he does it’ll ruin his schedule (which it will) and fuck up his body - he’s seen Miwa screw up hers after she pulled a bunch of all nighters in her third year in high school and has been afraid since.

— The type to forget people were coming over and come out of his room shirtless asking for his clean underwear.

— His sister forced him to let her cut and style his hair which led to many questionable hairstyles. Tsukishima is genuinely so grateful to Miwa, especially when she was first starting - he’s got some pictures of Tobio with the shortest most embarrassing bangs ever saved in his phone in a file for blackmail if the need for it ever presented itself.

— Likes pissing people off on purpose sometimes, during one of the training camps he probably walked into the bath with socks on and was made fun of but out of spite he just… never took them off. Said he’d done it on purpose and all too. Tanaka cried out of fear for like a hot minute when he saw him standing under the shower with Iron Man socks on.

— He’s so petty too, if you make fun of him for messing up he’ll remember until you embarrass yourself to make fun of you. And when I say he remembers, I mean it - he can’t for his life remember when to use make and do in english but he remembers when Hinata made fun of him for wearing different socks back on their first year and yes he will bring it up on their second year when he did the same thing what are you going to do about it?

— Probably got scouted for a modeling agency once and began running away because he thought they were trying to kidnap him.

— If he had Tiktok… he would’ve gone viral after posting a video of him practicing, he posted for a while for fun and to flex on people that he was hot but then he saw a comment saying they wanted to drink his milk under a video of him drinking milk and he deleted his account, he can’t buy from that brand for a while.

— He’s got a video of a gorilla walking in two legs saved on his phone for when he’s feeling down and watches it whenever he’s not going well. People think he’s texting his S/O but no, he’s just watching a gorilla walk like minecraft Steve.

— He can’t pose for pictures to save his life, his default pose is an NPC stance with his arms stiffly hanging down and his eyes wide in surprise, don’t ask him to smile or else he will look like a serial killer.

— He’s got a bit of baby fat on his cheeks that won’t disappear no matter what. It’s become a pre-game ritual to pinch his cheeks. He’s also got dimples you can really only see when he smiles naturally but he doesn’t know and he’d get shy if he knew and try covering his face so don’t tell him, that’s a fact he told me so himself.

— Cannot dance to save his life. He’s so long (?) his limb control is non-existent, it appears in game and vanishes when he steps out of the court. He really just bounces on his heels and moves his arms like a t-rex, don’t ask more of him.

— Buys his clothes one size bigger just in case and Miwa teases him saying he’ll need them when he gets old and fat.

— Gets asked out often but always rejects, then has the audacity to complain he’s never dated anyone like he hasn’t turned down half of the school's population.

— Can’t sing. He’s got a nice speaking voice but ask him to sing and he’s out of tone, out of sync, out of breath, and out of the room in 5 seconds.

— Sugawara joked about having him singing as his alarm clock and Kageyama actually believed him, probably sent him a new recording as a gift after he annoyed him during practice.

— Surprisingly funny when he wants to but most jokes fly over people’s heads since he seems so serious most of the time, it annoys him to no end. Yachi still struggles differentiating when he is and isn’t joking because his tone literally doesn’t change at all and she doesn’t want to offend him.

— When he was younger he liked to collect rocks, not even the pretty ones he’d pick the most average, raggedy rocks off the ground and clean them up and tuck them to bed because he saw Miwa play with her barbies like that. Still owns his first rock, he named it “Johnson” after Dwayne Johnson, aka the rock (he’s had to explain it so many times he’s exhausted).

— Accidentally drank expired milk once and didn’t notice until his stomach began hurting and he thought he became lactose intolerant and he was inconsolable for days until he realized it had expired like a month ago - he went on a milk shopping spree and the milk sales that week saw a 20% rise from the last few months.

— Tobio had bad handwriting until he was in Junior High because his teachers couldn’t understand him and had him practice calligraphy, his handwriting is now one of the prettiest ones in the team and he’s the official inker of the VBC posters (as designated by Goddess Yachi Hitoka herself).

— His biggest fear for a long time was getting eaten by piranhas because he saw it happen so often in cartoon shows he genuinely thought it was going to be a bigger deal than it turned out to be but for like a solid 6 years of his life he avoided suspicions puddles just in case.

— Kageyama has a habit of rolling and unrolling his sleeves when he’s deep in thought, it soon made way to a habit of checking his wrist watch (he absolutely has a wrist watch, you cannot change my mind on that) but not actually reading it.

— His nails are very pretty, like most setters, he takes very good care of them. They’re filed down to a perfect length and he puts oils and creams, his hands in general are so nice. He takes a lot of pride in them, you know his cuticles are pushed back and trimmed and he could absolutely be a hand model. Kags’ hands are calloused, he’s a volleyball player of course they are, but it’s not to the extent of Ushijima or Daichi’s hands.

— Talking about hands, it’s probably one of his favorite features on people. He loves holding hands with his S/O and tracing the wrinkles in their palm, being able to interlock fingers with them and feel the bumps in them.

— Mumbles to himself when in thought too! Very nonsensical if you’re not informed on what he’s thinking about, if he’s thinking about you he’ll mumble your name or something like “pretty eyes”.

— Has a very healthy diet, like extremely healthy and thought out. He won’t eat anything too sugary or that could throw off his body, but he does have cheat days (which are rare but exist). He also doesn’t drink much soda or alcohol (once he’s of age).

— Things like smoking are a big no, he takes so much care of his body he wouldn’t even touch a cigarette or be near a smoking area, lowkey paranoid of ingesting the smoke too.

— When he’s older I can see him having a dog and a cat, the dog would be a big dog; if they stood on two paws it’d be the same height as you, he’d name or something like Tobias and think he was super clever and funny, the cat would probably a small cat he’d name Milk (it probably would be a black cat too but he does not care).

— Probably tried baby formula because he heard it was a substitute for breast milk. No further comments on this.

— I feel like he doesn’t listen to music, but if he had to choose something he’d pick instrumental music - not orchestral music or anything like that - but more of a chill, no deep meaning just guitar and piano track. I could see him listening to Shego Sekito or Joe Hisashi on occasion, he might even listen to some 2000’s pop if he wants something to pump him up during training (he works out to Brittney Spears’ “Womanizer”).

— A cuddle-bug when he’s sleepy, he’ll throw himself across his S/O and not move at all, he just wants to stay there and not move ever again (or at least until he’s not feeling like passing out). He’ll like to wrap himself around them and cuddle their neck, he’ll attach himself to their arm like it’s a lifeline.

— In other words, Kageyama Tobio… b-boyfriend material.

#—🎀 haikyuu!#kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio x reader #haikyuu x reader #tobio x reader #hq #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hc #hq fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu fanfiction #kageyama headcanons #hq x reader #haikyuu x you #hq x you #—✒️ sora’s scripts

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bucketslutz · 4 years ago

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Godspeed

Summary: You've been working as Marcus Moreno's assistant for years, but during all this time you've also been hopelessly in love with him. You're unsure if he feels the same way, but as of late you've been catching him stare at you. He's said things that have seemed to have an ulterior definition and it's made you suspicious of his feelings. When a pipe bursts in your apartment, leaving your home unlivable while it's being renovated, Marcus invites you to stay with him and Missy till it's fixed. Will you fold and finally confess your feelings for him?

You can read Godspeed on AO3 here.

Warnings: 18+, smut, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, Marcus takes reader’s v-card, fluff, domestic-ish, AFAB reader, bisexual reader.

If Marcus was good at one thing, it was making your job a million times harder than it needed to be. He didn’t do it on purpose, he just tended to be more forgetful than you’d expected someone of his reputation to be. Whether it’d be meetings with the Heroics, grocery shopping, or even Missy’s parent teacher conferences, everything always managed to slip his mind. You suppose it is your job to keep track of all these things for him, remind him, and make sure he stays on top of all of his responsibilities. When he hired you, you were still a junior in college and his wife had passed away only a year prior. You didn’t expect that you’d be using your BA in international relations to be babysitting a grown man, but you don’t mind. He pays you substantially and he’s taught you so much over the years. You’re thankful that he even considered you for the job, the leader of the Heroics, when you’re far from interesting yourself. But he’s always been so kind and patient with you. Your first day you were fumbling over everything; you spilled coffee on his white button up, you accidentally packed Missy a peanut butter sandwich in her school lunch when she has a severe peanut allergy (luckily Marcus had glanced inside the unzipped lunchbox and swiftly threw it away), and you forgot to go grocery shopping that day. You hid inside the half bath off of the living room and cried from the stress, feeling like an absolute and complete fuck-up. Marcus knocked ever-so-gently on the door and you choked out a measly “I’m fine. Be out soon,” as a response. He didn’t buy it, obviously as he heard your sniffling from down the hall, and opened the door with a concerned look on his face. You were sitting on the floor, absolutely spent from the emotionally exhausting day. He got down with you and comforted you, talked you down from the breakdown and explained that he knew his schedule will take some time to get used to, but you’re a capable and strong individual who will catch on quickly.

“Cariña, I’m not disappointed in you. Mistakes will happen, you’ve gotta break a few eggs sometimes to make an omelette,” he told you with a wink, which caused you to snort at his very dad-ish remark; at that point, you had already forgotten about all the things you screwed up that day and was ready to start fresh tomorrow. And he was right, you caught on quickly. He’d begun saying a million times how life has seemed to have gotten easier since you entered it. You could’ve sworn there was a glint of something behind his eyes when he’d say it, maybe admiration, respect, perhaps even love. But you’d brush it off with a modest smile, trying to soften the weight of his words by saying you’re just doing what you’re being paid to do. He’d shake his head, trying his best to make you understand how much you’ve impacted his life. But you’re not used to someone insisting you deserve more respect than you give yourself, and Marcus showers you in praise every single day. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find the compliments flattering, especially coming from someone like him. You’ve always found him very attractive, even before you started working for him. A lot of your friends in college would tease you about it, not finding him nearly as charismatic as Miracle Guy, but you stuck to your guns. You’d hoped that when you met him you wouldn’t be disappointed, praying that he was just as kind in person as he appeared to be on the news. But now that you know him, he’s more than kind...he’s considerate, caring, patient, and a wonderful father. You’re beyond lucky to have met someone like him. He’s changed your life for the better, and you’ll never stop being grateful for his generosity. He makes it too easy to fall in love with him; his warm smile, chocolate brown eyes, his dad jokes. You even love the parts of him that wouldn’t necessarily be that interesting to anyone else, yet they are to you; the way he eats sandwiches by nibbling all the crust off of the sides then working his way to the middle in a circular pattern, or the way he hates to make his bed because he’s “just going to get back in it at the end of the day anyways,” or how he sometimes takes a minute to get a joke in a movie or TV show and will laugh for way longer than he needs to. You’ve been hopelessly in love with him for years now, and it’s made your job uncomfortable from time to time.

Once he started going back in the field, he’d come back to his house in immense pain every day. And for a little while, you just gave him some advil and a heating pad to leave him to his devices. But the pain and discomfort got worse, and he suggested a massage would relieve the pain. Which of course it would, and you should have no problem doing that for him. He wasn’t even necessarily asking you, he just said that a massage would feel better and he should go get one. But you still took it upon yourself to give him one anyways, perhaps as an excuse to touch him, but you care about him and you wanted him to feel better. He protested, of course, not wanting to inconvenience you, but he ultimately succumbed when you straddled his back and began rubbing his sore muscles. You did everything in your power to not seem as turned on by his groans of pleasure as you were; trying to hide the way your breath hitched when he choked out a “Yes, right there. Perfect,” between his shallow grunts. He had you in the palm of his hand, and he didn’t even know it. Your best friend has been telling you to make a move for months, but you’re too shy, and you’re not even sure if he feels the same way. He could very well want all of his assistants to stay for dinner, or movie night, or offer to let you stay in the guest bedroom when a pipe burst in your apartment leaking water all over your living room. You didn’t want to accept at first, feeling like you’d be overstepping, but Marcus insisted. He said he and Missy didn’t mind, especially considering you were way better at cooking meals than he was. You finally accepted the offer, figuring it’d also be way easier to work when you’re in closer quarters. You’d be cutting out commute time, and you wouldn’t have to get up so early to get there in time to make breakfast before Missy leaves for school. And you do love sleeping. So you accepted, what’s the worst that could happen? It’s not like you’ll confess your love for him while you’re staying over; so long as you stay away from the alcohol.

You knock gently on Marcus’ bedroom door and call out his name softly, coffee cup and newspaper in hand. You hear a muffled groan in response, and take that as your cue to enter. Cracking the door open, you see him laying on his stomach tangled up in his sheets with a pillow covering his head. He hated mornings.

“Marcus, it’s time to get up. You have a meeting this morning,” you coo as you enter his bedroom. He rolls over and pulls his head out from under his pillow, sporting the worst bedhead you’ve seen on him yet; you bite back a laugh.

“It’s early,” he grumbles, obviously very groggy from his slumber. You settle on the edge of the bed, offering him the cup of coffee to which he sits up and takes the mug from you eagerly.

“You didn’t see me complaining about the hour when I had to get up at 4 am and bust my ass here every morning, just so I could make breakfast for you and your daughter,” you snide playfully. You don’t resent him for that, and he knows that. He works hard and has a lot on his plate, and he knows you understand that. But it’s become almost like a running joke between the two of you that he can’t complain because “you have it harder.”

“Touché,” he says, pausing to say your name, “Touché.” He takes a few sips of his coffee and holds his hand out for the newspaper, which you then hand to him. He takes a quick sip, contentedly. “Mm, why is it whenever I make coffee it takes like dirty socks, but when you do it, it tastes like heaven. Are you hiding a fancy coffee maker here that I don’t know about?”

“Hm, don’t know. Maybe I’m magic,” you remark jovially, smiling warmly at him. His eyes lock onto yours for a moment and he returns the smile.

“Yeah, something about you sure is magic,” he says, that familiar glint of... something in his eyes. Then he gets up from under his covers and pats your leg with the newspaper as he exits his bedroom, leaving you feeling strange after that encounter. Not a bad strange, you just sensed there was an air of something hanging around him. You’ve been feeling that a lot with him for a while. He’s just said or done things that hinted at meaning more than what it was, but you’ve been trying to brush it off as you looking for something that wasn’t there. You stood up from his bed, tidying up his covers a little so they no longer looked like someone just rolled out of them. You shook your head at the sight of some of his dirty clothes scattered all over the floor and took it upon yourself to pick them up and toss them in his hamper for you to wash later this afternoon. Making your way downstairs, you can hear Marcus shuffling around in the kitchen, humming the chorus of Raspberry Beret by Prince. Another thing you loved about him, he was always humming something around the house, to Missy’s dismay, but you never got tired of it. It warmed your heart to see him so happy. While you didn’t know him before the passing of his wife, you could tell that it still brought him down sometimes when you first started working for him. He’d come home late from work, immediately go to the liquor cabinet, and lock himself in his office for the rest of the night. A year or so ago he finally went through her old things with you and got rid of a lot of stuff. He kept a lot of her belongings, mostly for Missy, but was finally ready to throw a lot of her things away. So the times when you hear him singing absentmindedly, it reminds you that he’s healing and it makes you happy to finally see that after so many years of grief. Entering the kitchen, you cross over to the island and finish plating Marcus’ and Missy’s pancakes; Marcus was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper and sipping on his coffee. You set his plate in front of him and he glances up at you, smiling brightly.

“Thanks, these look great. Do these have bananas in them?” he asks excitedly.

“Yep, of course,” you reply with a grin, running your hand over his shoulder before turning back to cross over to the island. You know full well his favorite breakfast is banana pancakes, so you make them for him whenever he has to get up extra early for meetings.

“You know me too well,” he teases, spreading a glob of softened butter on the top of his pancake. You hear footsteps descending the staircase rapidly and the appearance of Missy in the kitchen shortly thereafter, dressed and ready for school.

“Hi dad!” she greets her father, then you, and settles in her chair at the kitchen table. You set her plate of pancakes in front of her along with a small plate of bacon. Marcus glances at you, then the bacon, then back at you, his eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Why does she get bacon and I get fruit?” he whines, through a mouthful of pancake.

“Because you’re susceptible to heartburn, Missy is not,” you tell him, smacking his hand as he reaches for one of her slices. Missy sticks her tongue out at her father, teasing him as she munches on her bacon. “Quit your whining, Moreno. Fruit is good for you.”

“Outnumbered and outwitted,” he remarks dejectedly, poking at the fruit on his plate. You roll your eyes at his dramatics and finish plating your own breakfast, with extra pieces of the assorted fruits that you especially love. You catch Marcus’ gaze lingering on you for longer than what would be considered “a passing glance.” Once you lock eyes with him, he turns his head back to his newspaper immediately pretending he wasn’t just staring at you. Okay, you can safely say now that he’s officially been acting weird. You don’t have the energy nor the time right now to address his behavior, so you opt to join him and Missy at the table and silently finish your breakfast before you have to drive Missy to school.

…

These chores have been kicking your ass today. You were too preoccupied with the burst pipe in your apartment last week that you weren’t able to do the laundry, so now you’re gifted with two weeks worth of laundry to wash, dry, iron, fold, and put away. It’s almost the end of the work day and you just finished folding the last load. You huff as you haul the basket up the stairs and down the hall to Marcus’ bedroom. You hum absentmindedly as you put his clothes away, tuning out your surroundings as your music blasts through your earbuds. This is the only part of laundry you really like. Firstly, because it’s the easiest part, and secondly because you get to listen to your music in peace without anyone bothering you. Being in the house alone means you can scream/sing the lyrics to your favorite songs without Marcus or Missy making fun of you. Except you didn’t realize you weren’t home alone right now, because Marcus has been watching you, leaning against the threshold of his bedroom door. You stopped dead in your tracks and startled when you noticed his presence. Clutching your chest with your hand you laugh out of embarrassment.

“Marcus, what the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me you were here?” you ask, frustrated that he just completely ruined your vibe.

“I like hearing you sing. I’ve got my own concert right here in the comfort of my own home,” he half teases, half remarks flirtily at you. He’s staring you up and down, as if you were a sight for sore eyes in your ripped mom jeans and bleach dyed t-shirt. Your hair was lazily thrown up into a messy bun for convenience, some strands hanging around your face to frame it.

“Whatcha listening to?” he asks, crossing towards you.

“Um, Godspeed, by Frank Ocean. You wouldn’t know him, as his career exists post-Prince and Queen, grandpa,” you joke playfully. He shakes his head and rests his hands on his hips.

“Alright, indulge me then. I wanna listen.” Sighing, you oblige and pull your phone out of your pocket and tuck your earbuds away. You start the song over from the beginning and turn the volume all the way up as the song begins. Marcus stares off and listens intently, taking in the synthetic sounds that prelude the lyrics. Once Frank Ocean begins singing, a small smile appears on his face and he nods his head.

“I like that, reminds me of you,” he says sweetly, offering his hand out to you. You glare at it suspiciously, not really sure what he’s asking. “Dance with me.” A blush creeps up on your cheeks and you take his hand happily.

Marcus moves one of his hands to the small of your back while the other clutches yours. You bring your hand to his shoulder and begin swaying with him to the music, singing along to the lyrics softly. He’s staring deep into your eyes and trailing his hand up and down your back, leaving goosebumps wherever it goes. You’ve never felt more in love with him than in this moment. He’s content just swaying with you and staring into your soul. And this song reminds him of you. Because of what? Is this how he feels about you? There will be mountains you won’t move. Still I’ll always be there for you, how I do. He has always been there for you. He’s said he will a million times; when your dad died and your mom became estranged, he didn’t expect anything of you. All he did was text or call you ever-so-often to check in on you and make sure you were doing okay. He was one of the only people who really made you feel cared for at that time. That’s when you fell in love with him. You realized that you wouldn’t have gotten through that without his support and care. He and Missy dropped off a gift bag of all of your favorite snacks and movies one night and they spent the evening with you watching movies. Missy fell asleep on your couch and you fell asleep leaning against Marcus’ chest. It was the best you’d slept since your father’s passing. The song ends, leaving you and Marcus swaying to silence, anticipating each other’s next move. Eventually you both stop swaying, your hands move up to lace around the back of his neck and his move to cradle the small of your back. His mouth keeps parting and he inhales sharply, as if he’s about to say something, but he’ll purse his lips, second-guessing himself. You don’t know how, but you know what he wants to say. You can feel it as you look into his eyes. You can feel it when you catch him staring at you. You can feel it every time he enters a room.

“Say it, Marcus,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper. You stare at him desperately, you want, no--need to hear him say it. Because you both know how he feels. He just needs to say it. He stares at you lovingly, and brings one of his shaky hands up to brush a stray strand of hair out of your face. You inhale sharply at his touch, anticipating the words you’ve been wanting to hear him say for years.

“I’m in love with you,” he admits, his voice dripping in his signature rasp, saying your name as if he was blessed by the gods themselves to have the ability to say it. “I’m hopelessly in love with you, cariña. I always have been, and I always will be.”

Your heart beats out of its chest by his admission, your stomach somersaulting and your skin ablaze. I love you, Marcus. Truly, deeply, I do. Your eyes begin to well up, not from sadness, or even joy, but from relief. After years of uncertainty, wonder, even frustration, you finally know how he feels about you. How he’s always felt. It feels as though a weight’s been lifted off of your shoulders. You love him. You’ll shout it from the rooftops, if you have to. I love him, I love him, I love him, I love him. Tears begin sliding down your face as Marcus cups your cheek with the palm of his hand. You nuzzle into his touch, revelling in the way he so effortlessly cares for you.

“I love you, Marcus. I always have,” you finally confess, your voice shaky from the crying. You sniffle and let out a light laugh in relief. You finally said it, and so did he. His eyes look glassy, and he appears to be biting back tears. He smiles lovingly at you, clearing his throat to try and push down the lump that’s been forming. He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, stroking your head with the pad of his thumb as he does so, and pulls you into his arms, hugging you tightly. He cradles the back of your head while his other hand wraps tightly around your back. Your arms hook under his, clutching his back eagerly.

“I love you too, cariña,” he whispers, his lips pressed atop your head. You close your eyes, revelling in his hold on you for a moment before you decide to pull away and look up into his eyes.

“Kiss me,” you whisper, your eyes searching his for the need you have to lock your lips with his. He doesn’t hesitate to dip his head and pinch your chin, tilting it up towards his face, and sealing his admission of love with a needy, gentle kiss. You sigh into the kiss, feeling sparks all throughout your body. He pulls you into his chest, your body now flush against his and your arms wrapping around his neck. He slides his tongue along your closed lips and you part them, welcoming his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues tangle, the both of you needily searching each other’s mouths. His hands begin roaming your body, sliding up and down your waist, toying with the hem of your top and grazing his fingers over the skin of your lower back. As if he was asking permission to slide his hands up your bare back. You nudge his arm lazily and he complies, sliding his hands up your spine leaving goosebumps in his wake. You gasp against his lips as his hands explore your back, pressing further into him as best as you can. He mumbles into the kiss, gripping your bare waist.

“Mm, Missy home?” he asks against your lips. You shake your head, of course he’d forgotten that she was staying over at a friend’s; you had to bust your ass this afternoon running errands and trying to drop her off in time.

“Friend’s house,” you tell him between kisses. He nods, tugging the fabric of your shirt up.

“Do you want me to take this off, honey?” he asks gently, his lips moving from yours to your cheek then your neck as he trails love bites up and down the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck.

“Yes, please,” you reply breathlessly. He slips your top over your head leaving you in your bra. Not wanting to be the only one shirtless, you bring your fingers up to his tie and loosen it before slipping it over his head, working impatiently on the buttons of his dress shirt. Soon you’re both shirtless, chests heaving as your lips lock together feverishly once again. He starts pushing you towards the bed till your calves meet it.

“Lay down--if-if that’s-if you’re okay with that, cariña,” Marcus says, trying his best to seem assertive, but in his heart he’s too gentle and caring to force you to do anything. You roll your eyes and spin him around, shoving him back onto the bed and climbing onto his lap. Supporting your weight by pressing your hands to his bare chest, you dip down to kiss him again. This time they were sloppy and needy, you wanted to savor every bit of him and memorize the way his lips melted into yours. The way his stubble poked your lip, the way his tongue glided across yours, the feeling of his breath against your face. His hands slide down to grip your ass, kneading it through your jeans. You grin into the kiss, enjoying his hands all over you and the way he’s possessively groping your ass.

“Take off my bra,” you command against his lips. He nods eagerly, his fingers fumbling with the straps of your bra before finally releasing the clasp at the back. You shrug off your bra and slip your arms out of the straps, the garment falling onto his bare chest. He chuckles once it plops onto him, he tosses it to the floor and smiles up at you giddily; he looks at you as if you just gave him the best thing you could have ever given him. You roll your eyes at his excitement.

“Why are you so excited? You never seen a pair of boobs before?” you tease, a blush creeping over his face as he realizes you’ve noticed the way he’s been ogling your chest.

“I just never thought you’d let me look at you like this,” he says, with a slightly somber tone. Did he really think you weren’t going to love him back? He must’ve been feeling the same way you have all these years; the yearning, the pining, and the pain of never really being sure if they loved you in return. But you were here now, on top of him in his bed without a shirt on. You grab his arms and pull him up towards you so he’s sitting up, while you remain straddling his lap. He strokes your face tenderly, taking every bit of you in. You turn your cheek into his touch and plant a chaste kiss against his palm, Marcus smiles at you in return. Your heart could not be full of any more love right now. The way he’s looking at you, touching you, kissing you...you’ve never felt this much love from anyone at once. You don’t think you’ve loved anyone like you’ve loved Marcus. Even though you haven’t really had a serious relationship since high school, a relationship that scared you away from love, but you still didn’t think that you’d let someone enter your heart again. Marcus proved to you from the beginning that he’d never hurt you, so you’ve always trusted him, which is something that you don’t like giving away so easily. Truth is, you’ve not even let a man look at you naked since you were a freshman in college; he was an asshole who took advantage of you and your body. And when you told him you weren’t ready to go all the way, as you’re still a virgin, he was fine with it...Till he decided to ghost you the next day. That made your experiences with men even more volatile. It left such a bad taste in your mouth that you never got around to actually having sex with a man. You got by in college with occasional hookups with women, but you always made sure to leave before they woke up, so as to avoid any festering feelings. Marcus got you to a point in your life where you could trust someone like him, finally. He’s treated you well, he’s loved you more than anyone ever has, he’s taken his time with you by being ever-so-patient. And he will always be your rock no matter what.

“Marcus, I want you to see the rest of me,” you whisper, holding his face in your hands. He smiles warmly at you, his coffee-colored eyes holding every ounce of your pain you’ve allowed him to hear and see. He obliges immediately, stripping you of the rest of your clothes, stroking your exposed skin with his feather-like touch. He’s gentle, loving, caressing your skin like you might crumble under his fingertips if he applies too much pressure. You straddle his clothed lap now completely naked, your slick lips gliding over the rough fabric of his jeans as his erection applies intoxicating pressure against the length of your cunt. Your lips are tangled together hungrily, but he kisses you slow and sensually as he searches your lips with his own, his tongue sliding inside your mouth.

“Let me see the rest of you too,” you whisper against his mouth, your fingers dipping down to his belt buckle as you pry it open. He nods his head and aids you in taking off his pants till he’s now clad in his black briefs. He groans as you palm his erection through his briefs, feeling his dick twitch under your touch as you glide your fingers up and down its tense length. He gasps into the kiss, sensitive and responsive to your hold on his cock. You tug on the elastic of his briefs and yank them down, Marcus adjusts so you can pull them down his legs more easily. His dick springs free, dripping with pre cum and twitching with need. Your pelvis settles firmly against his, Marcus’ cock sliding between your pussy lips and nudging your clit gently. You whimper against his lips as each thrust of his hips results in the head of his dick flicking your sensitive nub. Your clit aches for more friction, needing his fingers in your pussy and for him to stroke you. You grip his wrist and bring it between your legs, urging them into your dripping core.

“You want me to touch you, cariña?” Marcus grunts into your ear, his fingers tracing your entrance. His hot breath tickles your ear and makes your pussy clench with need.

“Marcus, my clit--please, baby,” you whimper against his neck. You thrust against his fingers, attempting to force them inside you, but he avoids your advances. He finally slides his finger up through your lips and to your clit, flicking the aching, swollen bud. You gasp, throwing your head back in pleasure as Marcus strokes you. He pulls his hand away and brings it to your mouth, prying your lips open with his finger, urging you to lubricate it. You swirl your tongue around his digit, then he pulls it out and brings it back to rubbing your clit. The pleasure builds inside of you, your breath hitching with each flick of his finger. You’re getting close to the edge, desperate for Marcus to let you cum; his lips trail up and down your neck, lazily licking and nipping at the skin there. He replaces his middle finger with his thumb and continues the pace of his strokes on your clit before sliding two fingers inside of you. The fullness causing you to mewl in his ear as you begin riding his fingers. Your climax builds as your pussy clenches around his fingers that are working in and out of you, curling with each thrust inside of you. The flicks against your swollen bud, your hips rolling into his fingers, his lips on your neck...the way Marcus is working your cunt right now is pushing you close to the edge. Your toes start curling and your pussy clenches around his fingers, causing Marcus to groan at your tightness.

“That’s right, hermosa. I wanna see that pretty face when I make you cum,” he groans in his signature rasp. His hot breath sticks to your neck as the pressure inside of you builds. Shutting your eyes and moaning a slew of curses, you begin to see spots as your pelvis tingles and your cunt clenches hard around Marcus’ fingers. His fingers climb up to your scalp and he tugs your head back by your hair, pulling it away from where it was resting in the crook of his neck. You lazily part your eyes open through your climax, finding Marcus staring at you through his lustful brown eyes. His digits work you through the rest of your orgasm, relishing in the way he’s staring at you; your jaw slack, whimpering and moaning, your hands clutching his broad shoulders.

“You’re beautiful, my love,” he breathes, stroking the stray strands of hair out of your face. You smile lazily at him, panting as you come down from your climax. His dick twitches against your thigh as he pulls his fingers from your soaked pussy. He offers them to you and you part your mouth, welcoming his cum soaked digits into your mouth; sucking the evidence of your arousal from his fingers. He watches you, your lips sealed around his fingers and your eyes dark with lust. He pulls his fingers from your mouth and lightly grazes your jaw with his saliva soaked fingertips.

“I want you to fuck me, Marcus,” you tell him hungrily, still breathless from your orgasm. He nods eagerly and grips your hips, trying to position you above his cock. You resist his grasp, and he glances up at you confused.

“What’s wrong, mi amor?” he asks, his tone dripping with concern as he cradles your cheek with one of his hands.

“Nothing, I’ve just--I haven’t really...I guess I’m--,” you pause to sigh. “I’m still--technically--a virgin.” You swallow hard, unable to keep yourself from feeling embarrassed by your admission. It’s stupid to feel embarrassed, especially in front of Marcus who would never judge you for something like that. He stares at you comfortingly, not an ounce of condescension in his eyes.

“Okay, honey, let me take care of you,” he says tenderly, flipping you on your back so now he’s hovering over you. “Do you want this?” He holds you gently, wanting you as comfortable as possible and trying desperately not to pressure you into anything.

“Yes, Marcus. I want you. I trust you,” you affirm, your fingers dancing over the stubble on his cheek, desperately wanting more of him. Trust has always been hard for you. This was more than just letting him take your virginity, it was letting him into your heart completely and earnestly; it was the first time in years you’ve let someone love, touch, and look at you like this. And you wouldn’t want anyone else to be here fucking you except for Marcus. He grins at you warmly, his eyes so full of love and want.

“I love you,” Marcus says your name, planting a longing kiss on your forehead and nuzzling his cheek against your cheek.

“I love you, too, Marcus,” you say, feeling all his love for you by simply looking into his eyes. He smiles and plants kisses along your jawline and throat, nipping at the flesh. He reaches into the drawer in his bedside table and pulls out a condom. He tears open the package and rolls it onto his cock. Marcus positions himself at your entrance, your legs wrapping around his waist in anticipation.

“You okay?” he asks nervously, he seems more anxious than you even are and it’s absolutely adorable.

“Marcus, sweetheart, I’m fine,” you giggle, your hands cradling the sides of his head. “Please, I want this. I’ve wanted this for forever. Fuck me, please.” He nods, planting kisses on your forehead, and his dick prods your slick entrance. Marcus sinks the head of his cock into you and hisses at the tightness of your pussy. You mewl as he stretches you open slowly, your arms wrapping around his neck and your bare chest pressing into his. He slowly buries his length into you, his cock twitching inside of you and he revels in the tightness of your cunt. You gasp once he’s sheathed inside of you, your pussy stretched wide open for him and only him. Your clit aches for more friction, and you desperately need him to move inside of you.

“You good?” he groans through gritted teeth, his lips hovering above yours as your breaths mingles together.

“Marcus, baby, move please--fuck,” you gasp, gripping his shoulder tight. He doesn’t hesitate to begin pulling out slowly, and moving back inside your aching pussy. His thrusts are slow and gentle, trying to get you used to his length before he picks up the pace. He wants this to be as enjoyable for you as possible and he’s only able to do so by starting out painstakingly slow. After a few more slow, languid thrusts, he gauges a slightly quickened pace. You moan, locking his lips with yours, and sloppily kiss him as you begin to try and thrust against him, searching for a rhythm. Your hips rock with his, his thick cock gliding in and out of your pussy, but your clit still craves more friction.

“My clit--shit, Marcus,” you hiss against his lips. He dips one of his fingers between your bodies and begins flicking your clit gently and expertly as he continues to fuck you. You gasp and whimper into the kiss as he keeps flicking the sensitive bud in rhythm with his thrusts. You bring his lower lip between your teeth and tug it gently, Marcus groaning before locking your lips again.

“Fuck--cariña, you’re so tight--so good--for me, shit,” Marcus growls into the kiss, his thrusts keeping pace but becoming harder. You moan, the pressure on your clit becoming almost too much for you as his cock stretches you wide and fills you each time he thrusts all the way into you. “Wanted you--wanted--I’ve dreamt about fucking this tight little pussy, cariña.”

The way he speaks to you makes your body run hot, his words burning into your skin and making you flush. You moan your affirmations, wanting to urge him on to keep going.

“Baby, keep going--keep talking,” you choke out between gasps and moans. Marcus continues his pace on your clit and with his thrusts, not faltering even once as he groans in pleasure.

“I wanted to bend you over my desk and fuck the shit out of you. I--shit--wanted to eat your pussy out while you made breakfast; on my knees, my head between your thighs, licking your cunt like that’s what you were serving me,” he growls, dipping his head down briefly to lazily suck your nipple, switching between both breasts. “You--fuck--mija, you’re mine. You’re finally mine, I won’t lose you.” His hot breath tickles your breasts and he kisses his way back up to your lips locking them together again. His words were not possessive by any means, they were desperate, needing you to know how much it would hurt him if he were to lose someone else he loved the same way he lost his wife. The pressure he’s creating from the flicking of your clit partnered with his cock buried deep inside your pussy as it tickles your g-spot, becomes too much and before you know it you’re close. Your cunt clenches around his cock a few times, making Marcus groan into your mouth. You gasp and whimper, wanting to cum for him again; you want to come undone in front of him, show him just how much you’ve wanted to fuck him all these years. You roll your hips up into his, frantically searching for your orgasm as your thrusts begin to quicken and your pussy clenches around him once again.

“Marcus, I’m close,” you whimper into your sloppy kiss, clinging to his back and dragging your nails up and down the skin there.

“Cariña, cum for me. You look so sexy when you finish,” he whispers huskily against your lips, nipping at your bottom lip as he thrusts harder into you again, the slapping of skin echoing throughout the room. Your body tenses underneath him, white spots clouding your vision as your cunt clenches around his dick, milking him. Your body tingles and you spasm against his bare chest, digging your nails further into his back. Marcus thrusts into you, hissing when you clench around his throbbing cock, as he rides out his climax. His groans and whimpers growing louder as he reaches his orgasm, then promptly quieting down once he begins to come down. You pant, your chest rising and falling as you also come down from your own climax. Marcus slumps next to you, his twitching length still sheathed inside of you as your legs tangle together. He grabs your chin and tilts your head towards him to kiss you, slowly and featherlike, wanting to savor your taste. You lay like that for a moment, your sweaty chests rising and falling together as you both try to catch your breath.

“I’m so in love with you,” Marcus says your name, draping his arm over your stomach and squeezing your waist gently. “And I will show you just how much I love you every day, mi amor,” He plants a kiss on your shoulder. “I’ll never let you forget it.” He kisses up and down the length of your neck, his tongue darting out occasionally to taste you.

“You’re my hero,” you giggle, turning on your side to face him while his dick still remains buried inside of you. He rolls his eyes playfully, having heard hundreds of different women say that very phrase over the course of his career, but it strikes something inside of him when he hears you say it. “You saved me. I love you.” You snuggle into his chest and pepper kisses along the sweaty skin there.

“I’ll always be here, cariña. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll catch you when you fall, like how you catch me when I do. I would be so lost without you, mi corazon,” he says tenderly, planting a kiss to the crown of your head and wrapping his arms around you tighter. He loosens his hold on you, and pulls his half-hardened cock out of your pussy. He disposes of the condom then pulls the sheets back over your bodies, bringing you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you. Marcus plants slow, languid kisses all over your face, wanting to make you feel all the love he holds for you. Your eyes droop shut, fatigue beginning to overcome your body as you’re trapped in Marcus’ arms. But this is a place you wouldn’t want to escape, no, you feel safe here. Marcus won’t let you go, and you wouldn’t let him go either. Marcus has your heart, and there’s no one else you’d trust to keep it. He’s your hero, after all. The hero who saved you with his love.

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #afab reader #marcus moreno x afab reader #we can be heroes #pedro pascal #marcus moreno dilf #mutual pining #yearning #domestic fluff #marcus moreno takes your virginity #marcus moreno is caring af #marcus moreno marry me pls #miracle guy #godspeed by frank ocean

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imaginedhaven · 4 years ago

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Reluctantly Rooming: Part Seven

Link to Masterpost

Guys, I loved this prompt! Please feel free to keep sending them my way!

Today’s prompt:

"Shut up, you don't know what it's like to have your body attack you every month" for Aelin on her period please?????

~*~*~

Two weeks after she had broken her ankle, and on the very first day she was supposed to go back into work, Aelin woke up with the distinctly unpleasant sensation of her lower back muscles attempting to crush her spine. With a vicious curse, she hauled herself up out of her makeshift bed and made for the kitchen. Her phone chimed from the desk Rowan had been using as an office before the incident, and she snagged it off of the charger, quickly sending a text off to Sam.

Cancel the ride. I can’t do it today after all.

She didn’t bother to await a reply before making her way to the cabinets where she usually stored all of her treats. Her brownies had run out a week ago, but surely she still had something stashed away.

As she rummaged, she took a moment to count backwards in her head. Surely she hadn’t miscounted? This was far too soon for her usual monthly cycle, or so she had thought. After all, her last one had been just two weeks…

Two weeks before she had broken her ankle. Fuck. It was right on schedule and she was the fool who hadn’t counted right. And since she hadn’t counted right, she had done exactly none of her usual self-care routine for the day before that mitigated the symptoms of this first awful day. Gods, she felt like such an idiot.

Gently, she let her head fall forward and into the cabinet door with a soft thunk. It served her right for forgetting such an important thing and messing up her very first day back at work. The best she could do now was try her best to catch up to it with painkillers and hope she would be better enough to try again tomorrow.

Her phone chimed on the counter with Sam’s reply.

I was wondering if you were sure. It’s awfully soon, aren’t you still on those heavy duty pain pills?

Of course she wasn’t. They had run out four days ago, and she hadn’t given it a second thought before now since her ankle had been feeling so much better.

No, I’m just an idiot who can’t count days and weeks. A vague message, to be sure, but Aelin knew that Sam would know exactly what she was talking about. She had complained to him enough about it over the years, after all.

Damn, that sucks. I can stop by after my shift if you need anything?

It was sweet of Sam, really, and a holdover from how they’d helped each other out while they were dating, but she knew it would be too little too late and she didn’t want to interfere with his own schedule. I should be fine, really. Just gonna curl up and try to sleep it off. I should be better tomorrow, you know it’s always just this first day.

That’s true enough. Feel better xo

Aelin smiled and set her phone aside, then winced as her more immediate problem made itself known once more. She finally opened the cabinet…

And was met with plates. Gods, she didn’t know Aedion had even owned this many plates. Not only that, but this meant that Rowan had reorganized the kitchen again and most likely thrown out her snacks. He’d probably even sniffed with disdain as he’d done so, the joyless buzzard.

Aelin whined quietly. Fuck, she just wanted one thing to not be completely screwed up today. Apparently that was too much to ask, though.

Her supplies were kept in the upstairs bathroom next to her usual bedroom, and since she had stocked up the previous month she knew that at least those wouldn’t be an issue. She just had to get up the stairs. It was slower going than usual, as she still had to wear the boot, but now that she could actually walk as long as she had the boot on she managed okay. Several minutes of cleaning up later and she was ready to awkwardly clomp her way back down the stairs, taking some of her stash with her so she wouldn’t have to make this trek again in the next day or two at least.

She paused in front of the television, going through her collection of movies and selecting an older musical Rowan was certain to judge her for before gathering up every blanket they’d left around the living room and forming a cocoon on the couch.

She’d just gotten some semblance of comfortable when the door opened, footsteps heading for the stairs and then pausing. “I thought you said you were going to try working today,” Rowan said, clearly confused. “Unless… is your ankle bothering you?”

“What? No.” Gods, she’d lost track of the time, and she hadn’t expected to deal with Rowan this soon.

“Did your ride fall through? If you’d called I could’ve—”

Her grip on her temper, already tenuous due to the situation at hand, frayed and broke. “Shut up,” she snapped, and a part of her reveled in Rowan’s stunned silence. “You don’t know what it’s like to have your body attack you every month.” She avoided Rowan’s eyes, not sure what she’d find in his expression and even less certain she wanted to know.

She curled up a little bit tighter, though, when his footsteps quietly retreated through the front door once more.

Gods, not only had she messed up her own day, but she’d probably ruined Rowan’s too. He hadn’t asked for her to snap at him, and in hindsight he hadn’t deserved it either. He’d been the perfect picture of a caring roommate, and she’d stomped all over that. It sucked, and not just because she’d actually been trying to befriend him.

No, it was awful because it wasn’t until the door had quietly closed behind him that she realized the last thing she’d wanted was to be left alone.

She’d brought it on herself, though, so she didn’t reach for her phone again. There was no point in dragging anyone else into the utter mess that was her day, and the last thing she wanted was to send a pleading text to Rowan and have him ignore it. Instead, she burrowed deeper into her pile of blankets and tried to ignore the tears she could feel welling in her eyes.

She had mostly succeeded in banishing them and was drifting somewhere between waking and sleep when the door opened once more. She said nothing, hardly daring to hope he’d actually come back. No, most likely he’d forgotten something he needed and he’d be gone again in a few minutes.

Her self-loathing tirade stuttered to a halt when something warm was tucked behind the small of her back.

Stunned, she reached behind herself and found an electric heating pad, the kind she’d always thought about buying but never managed to remember until it was too late. When she turned her head to look at him he wasn’t looking at her, instead setting a cup of something on the table in front of her. It turned out to be a mocha from the café down the street upon further investigation, and suddenly those tears she had mostly managed to shove back down were welling up to the surface once again. “Rowan…?” Gods, her voice broke on his name, but she couldn’t even bring herself to be embarrassed about it.

“You should drink some of that,” he said quietly. “The caffeine will help, and I know how you feel about chocolate.”

Gods, who was this man and what had he done with her roommate? She was having a hard time believing he could be so… soft. She supposed it made sense, though; surely it was just an extension of all he’d done for her in that first week after breaking her ankle. She knew better than to call attention to it by asking; if she knew Rowan, that would just cause him to grumble something at her and retreat into his room for the remainder of the night, and that was the last thing she wanted. Instead, she quietly reached for the cup and sighed as she inhaled the scent of it.

He wasn’t done yet, though; no, he was reaching into one of those reusable grocery bags she’d never seen anyone else using. “I didn’t know if you preferred sweet or salty snacks,” he admitted as he pulled out a couple bars of chocolate and a bag of pretzel sticks.

“Gods, those pretzel sticks sound perfect right now,” she replied. “I… you didn’t have to do all this. How’d you even know what to do? Most men I’ve talked to panic at the very thought of it.”

The question earned her a tiny hint of a smile. “Contrary to popular belief, I have lived with a woman before,” he said.

Aelin immediately fought down a surprisingly strong surge of jealousy at this unnamed other woman who’d had this amount of care from Rowan and presumably lost it somehow. “What happened? I can’t imagine she’d just let you go, if you did this for her.”

“She didn’t.” The words were clipped and short, and Rowan’s expression had shut down completely.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” The words rushed out of her, and she ached to reach out to him, to do something to smooth that look away from his face. “Whatever it was, you don’t have to talk about it to your idiot of a roommate who can’t leave well enough alone.”

He finally looked at her, then, and there was a deep sorrow lingering in that green gaze but the smile he gave her was genuine enough. “Maybe I will, someday. But not today.”

“Please tell me I haven’t scared you off. I really, really don’t want to be alone right now.” She could feel her face heating, but not even her own embarrassment was enough to contain the words. Not when he’d already done so much to help and she was finally beginning to relax.

He pulled a small container of medicine out of the bag and set it beside her drink. “Take this while I put the rest of these away, and I’ll be right back,” he offered.

She nodded, and as she reached for the pills he moved into the kitchen. She had just settled back against the heating pad once more when he returned, true to his word. He didn’t take his usual position in the armchair, though, much to her surprise. Instead, he sat beside her on the couch and didn’t even protest when she snuggled herself up under one of his arms.

As she drifted off, comforted by the warmth and the blankets and his loose embrace, she could’ve sworn she heard him humming along to the musical that still played.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows @thegoddessofyou @mymultiversee

#haven writes #reluctantly rooming #rowaelin

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alpacaparkaseok · 4 years ago

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Where you should be

Chapter 1: Prevaricate

Genre: Hobi x oc

Warnings: this series contains stalking, blackmail, and similar stressful/fear inducing situations. Also unrequited love, which is perhaps the most terrifying of all.

Word Count: 5.6k

Prevaricate (v.) : to speak or act in an evasive way

Present Time

There’s a reason why I’ve been working under a pseudonym for the entirety of my career at Bighit and never show up in photos that are going to be sent out on social media. There’s a reason why the very people I work for have hardly seen me.

After Bang Si-hyuk met me as a junior producer at another agency and saw that I was hardly working enough hours a week to survive, he gave me a one-time opportunity to prove myself. I would work at my agency in the mornings and then head out to the Bighit building in the evenings to meet up with Pdogg and Slow Rabbit who were more than happy to give me a shot behind the producer’s chair.

In the end, Adora was my biggest advocate. I heard her the day I was waiting for the verdict, speaking firmly with Bang PD in his office.

“If you let her go you’ll be screwing yourself over. I’ve seen her work, she’s a machine. I haven’t seen anyone like her. She’d be an asset to this team and we both know that we need that right now.”

It was the beginning of 2018 when Bang PD marched into Pdogg’s studio where I was working with him and told me the plan.

My contract at the other agency still had six years left on it, there was no way out of it. That had been Bang PD’s main concern, but when he looked at his star studded BTS and saw just how badly they needed a fresh perspective, he decided to go all in. So what did he do?

He bought out my old agency.

Naturally.

Source entertainment, the previous house of GFRIEND, still had their logo and a hand in their decisions. However with Bang Si-hyuk their new CEO they really didn’t have much of a say in my promotion.

Two and a half years later, life is pretty good. Well, besides the fact that I’m still living under a rock.

Let me explain: Source entertainment gladly sold their company to Bighit entertainment...under one condition. They didn’t want anyone to know why they were bought out in the first place. Not being able to keep a hold of a young female producer sounded pretty pitiful to them.

It just so happened that my name was starting to circulate around the different agencies around the time Bang PD took me in, and a few were out shopping for a new producer. Once word got out that I was the one behind “Navillera” things started to go downhill.

Sometimes I really feel like I can empathize with Rapunzel, locked up in her tower. At least my tower has a sweet stereo system. Equipped with a pseudonym and surrounded by speculation, I live an interesting life.

You see, nobody actually knows that I bailed Source for Bighit, although many suspect as much. When ‘trackers’ from other agencies began to snoop around for my whereabouts, Bang PD gave me a choice.

Either work so far behind the scenes that I would never see any action but would stay safe from prying eyes, or adopt a pseudonym and be alert for people showing up at my door offering me a higher salary.

There are a lot of things I wish I’d known before I began my career. However, there is one thing in particular I would have liked to known before jumping over to Bighit: cameras have never been able to capture Jung Hoseok in his full glory, and I doubt they ever will.

Mid July, 2018

“Have you eaten?”

Hoseok’s voice is muffled through my headphones, but I quickly slip them off my head and turn to see him standing in the doorway.

“Me?” As soon as I ask the question I know that it isn’t the most intelligent. The room is empty except for me.

Hoseok doesn’t tease me too much, instead stepping into my small studio that I share with a couple of other producers. “Yes, you.” Producing a giant bag of takeout, he lofts it up in the air. “You’ve been here all day and I’m pretty sure you haven’t left this room once.”

I’ve begun seeing Hoseok more frequently around the company building, he’s taken up the habit of stopping into Slow Rabbit’s studio more often during the day. We’ll make some small talk, talk about work and upcoming plans. But this? Just showing up at my small studio with food? That’s definitely never happened before. We’re not even on a first name basis.

I didn’t even know he knew where my studio was. If we’re ever in the same room together it’s either in a big staff meeting with all the producers or in Slow Rabbit’s studio.

Taking a long look between the food and my workload, I sigh and push some of my stuff away, creating a space for the food. Hoseok hollers and grabs a chair for himself, wasting no time in plopping down beside me and pulling out the cartons.

I must be staring at him like he has three heads, because he’s freezing in his tracks when he catches my eye.

“What?” He asks innocently.

I laugh lightly, hoping that he doesn't misinterpret what I say next. “I just wasn't expecting to see you, much less with food.”

“Oh,” he hesitantly passes me a carton. “Yeah, kind of weird, I know. I just thought you might like something to eat. I know how grueling work can be when you’re just starting out, and you’ve got a lot of competition here. No matter how hard it all gets you can’t forget to eat and sleep, alright?”

I nod slowly, watching as he looks utterly unfazed and begins slurping up his food. That’s when I realize that we’ll be eating together.

It’s oddly quiet in the studio that’s usually filled to the brim with music, but it’s nice. “How did you even know that I’d be in here?”

Hoseok shrugs, glancing my way. “Slow Rabbit said that you haven’t showed up for your usual lunch with him all week; I figured today would be the same.”

He talked to Dohyeong about me? Somehow that thought leaves me feeling a little off-balance.

“Thank you.”

Giving me his award winning smile, Hoseok nods. “Hobi. Just call me Hobi.”

Busying myself with my food, I nod. “Thank you, Hobi.”

“You’re welcome...” He looks at me expectantly and I realize that he’s not interested in calling me by my stage name, Sunny.

“Oh. Ha-rin.”

He nods, satisfied for the moment. Diving into his food again, he clears his throat. “Mind if I come back tomorrow?”

January 2019

Lunch with Hobi becomes the new normal. Whenever he has a free spot in his schedule he just shows up at the studio. Sometimes we have lunch around 12, other days it’s more like 8. Either way, he always sends me a text asking me if he can eat lunch in the studio, and chances are I’m still hanging around. He gives me a tentative time, and I always find a way to say yes.

I don’t think I’ve paid for lunch for six months straight. To be honest, it’s really nice. On the other hand, I feel a little guilty. Whenever I bring it up, Hobi just waves me off.

Nearly on the verge of tearing my hair out as I struggle with the title track of TXT’s debut album, Hobi sends me a text telling me that he’s on his way over with the goods. It doesn’t take him long to show up, plopping down beside me and placing the food in front of me before I can even take my headphones off.

“I’ll order next time?” I ask tentatively. We’ve had this conversation several times already, but I can’t quite seem to win.

“Don’t worry about it,” Hobi says as he continues on in his meal. I glare at him.

“Well, I do worry about it. You don’t need to keep doing this, Hobi.”

Now he sets down his food and turns to look at me. He’s wearing a white t-shirt today, and his hair has been recently dyed with honey-brown highlights. When I first saw him in the doorway of the studio with his usual bag of food, I had to remind myself to breathe.

He looks good.

“Yes I do.” He said it so matter-of-factly that I nearly agreed with him before stopping.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, a little annoyed. “I’m not some pity case that you have to foster until I make a name for myself, you know.”

As soon as I say it I gasp, covering my mouth with my hand. Hobi blinks before starting to laugh, applauding my bravado.

“Wow!” He says through his laughter. “You think that’s why I’m here?”

I just shrug, too mortified to say anything else. Heaven knows I’m too high-strung at the moment to be trusted to say anything else.

“I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but you’re not a pity case. Do you feel like you’re a pity case?” Hobi turns what should have offended him into a shovel to dig around my brain a bit.

Shaking my head, I sneak a peek over at him. He’s sitting with his legs and arms crossed, looking at me intently.

“...no.”

I don’t sound that convincing, that much is clear on Hoseok’s face. Leaning forward in his chair, he looks like he’s thinking over something important but remains silent for a moment. I take the temporary silence to eat a bit more of my food, only then noticing that it’s ramyeon.

The thought of Hoseok taking some of the packets of ramyeon from the break room and sneaking down here with them makes me want to laugh and cry.

“Pdogg said you’re working on TXT’s title track. It’s your first big project here; how are you feeling?”

The question takes me off guard, and I slurp up the rest of my noodles before I respond. “Alright, I guess. It’s been a while since I had to start on a track from square one.”

A look of understanding dawn on Hoseok’s face. “That’s stressful. But that also says a lot that you’re trusted with so much.”

Shrugging, I drink the last bit of the broth before tossing my cup in the trash. “If I didn’t know any better I’d think Bang PD is trying to kill me.”

“Really?” J-hope frowns before also finishing off his ramyeon. “I could help you, if you want.”

I shake my head firmly, watching as he laughs as though he’d expected as much. “No, I need to do this on my own. I think I’m nearly there, anyways.”

“So that’s why you never leave the studio these days,” he muses.

“Exactly.”

Normally Hoseok is pretty quick in his visits; we eat and he leaves as soon as he’s finished. I’m honestly surprised that he has enough time to eat with me nearly every day. Today though, he lingers. I can tell that he’s chewing on a thought, and I turn to him, raising my eyebrows.

“Are you about to tell me I can get us food next time?”

He blinks at me, laughing. “No, not that. I know you won’t let me help you with producing; that’s fine. But will you at least let me listen to the track when you feel like it’s good enough?”

Hoseok and I are at a strange crossroads in our acquaintanceship. Are we friends yet? From the consistency of his lunches and willingness to help me, I believe we are. But then again, this feels completely unbalanced for a friendship. After all, isn’t he the one putting in all the work?

“That sounds like work, though.” I fold my arms in front of me. “You already work all the time.”

“You won’t even let me listen to it?”

Looking at him, I see how sincere he is in his intentions. Maybe that’s what makes me loosen up a bit, letting go of my insecurities just enough to let him in.

“You promise to tell me if it sucks?”

He giggles, the sound of his little laugh making me smile. “Oh, absolutely.”

Giving him a curt nod, I grab my headphones, ready to get back to work. “Ok.”

He hesitates. “Ok? That’s it?”

My chair swivels to face him, one side of my headphones off my ear so I can hear him. “That’s it. I’m kicking you out now so I can come up with a track decent enough for J-hope to listen to.”

Cackling at my behavior, he holds his hands up in surrender and makes his way out of the studio. “See you tomorrow, Rin-ah.”

I don’t hear him, my headphones firmly planted on my head. Chuckling to himself, Hoseok closes the door on his way out.

Two weeks later

“I think that one’s my favorite,” Hoseok says as he slips the headphones off. I raise my eyebrows.

“Really?”

He nods, smiling softly as he hands the headphones back to me. I put them on, immediately beginning to toggle with the track before me.

“Really. Why, do you not like it?”

I shake my head, eyes glued to the monitor. “No, it’s not that. It’s just...I think that’s the song I hated producing the most. It was by far the most challenging.”

“I can see why. But it sounds like your hard work paid off.”

I forget to breathe for a moment as he reaches out and gently removes the headphones from my head. Placing them on the desk, he crouches beside me and saves the changes I’ve made before closing down the computer.

“What are you doing?” I ask once I’ve remembered how to expand my lungs again. Hoseok straightens up, patting his thighs as though checking he has everything he needs in his pockets.

“That was the final track, right?”

I nod slowly, not catching on. “Yeah, but I’ve still got to review everything and-”

“No.” He looks serious as he shakes his head. “Not tonight. You’ve been locked up in this studio for over a month, I swear.”

Frowning, I turn my swivel chair in a slow circle, glaring at the wall and then Hoseok. “You make it sound like I never leave.”

“Well, do you? I’ve only ever seen you in a studio.”

Scoffing, I stop spinning and face him. “I go home at the end of the day! I shower! Do you really think I don’t shower?!”

Laughing, Hoseok extends a hand out to me which I stare at. My brain is completely fried.

“Sure, ok. You shower. But you leave here late and come back early. You’re finished - you’re practically finished, don’t give me that look - with the album and if you really want to review it, you can tomorrow. But I’ve listened to all the tracks and you deserve a break. Come on.”

He keeps his hand out, waiting for me to take it. Groaning, I grab my phone off the desk and take his hand. Hauling me up and out of the chair, I realize that his hand is larger than I thought it was. And warm.

“I can’t believe you’re kicking me out of my studio- it’s only 9 o’clock!” I shout as I see the time. I haven’t been out of the studio before 9 in weeks, usually opting to leave around 1 or 2 in the morning. Hoseok chuckles before me, looking at me over his shoulder until he slows down enough to walk beside me.

“When was the last time you were actually outside for longer than it takes to walk to your car?”

I shrug. “I take the bus. Can’t relate.”

“Whatever, you know what I mean.”

Squinting up at him, I curse those honey-brown highlights that are still prominent in his hair. He looks like some sort of model that got lost in the agency building, not my friend that sits with me and offers unsolicited advice.

“I don’t know…” I pout as he opens up the door and we head out into the night air. “A while?”

Laughing, he nods his head. “Yeah, I bet. Here, I’ll give you a ride.”

Stopping in my tracks, I shake my head. “No, that’s fine. I’m ok to take the bus, it stops right in front of my street and everything.”

Hoseok stops with one foot hanging off the curb, ready to head into the parking lot. He tilts his head to the side in that cute habit of his. Struggling to maintain an innocent expression, I watch as he marches back over to me.

“First off, do you consider me a friend?”

I’ve never seen Hoseok’s intense professional side before, but I can see that same tamed fire lurking behind his eyes as he draws nearer.

“I...yes?” I assume that’s the correct answer.

He nods his head before moving on to the next question. “Good. Secondly, I don’t remember saying that I’d give you a ride home. Did I?”

Blinking up at him, I shake my head. “No...but then where are we going?”

In an instant his intense gaze turns into the happy-go lucky expression I’ve come to associate with Hobi. “To celebrate! You just finished producing almost an entire album with only Pdogg for company; that’s a feat in and of itself.” He pauses, looking at me with a soft gaze. “You’re ok with that, right?”

Once I nod Hobi jumps off the curb and leads me to his car. Where I’m expecting a sports car I’m pleased to see a normal, albeit nice, car waiting for us. Opening the door wide for me, he gives me a big smile as I reluctantly get in.

Once he buckles up and starts the car, I turn to look at him. He looks a bit worried behind the driver's seat.

“Are you ok?” I ask. He quickly nods.

“I’m fine...I just don’t tend to drive that often. It’s not my favorite.”

I can’t help but laugh a little at his concerned expression. “Right, I forgot.” He eases out of the parking lot at a slower speed than necessary, but I let it slide. “Why did you drive today?”

He shrugs. “Just felt like it. Are you hungry yet?”

I raise my eyebrows. “I think I could eat again.”

“Great,” Hobi smiles at me before returning his full attention to the road. “I think the boys ordered pizza.”

Heart dropping to my toes, I nearly smack him before I stop myself. “The boys? What are we doing?”

He’s too focused to laugh at my obvious worry, but the ghost of a smile flits across his mouth. “Well, you don’t really seem like the type to hit up clubs and stuff to celebrate, and I figured you’d be tired after everything. So we’re heading to my apartment to eat and maybe watch a movie or something.” He spares me a quick look. “Unless you’d rather go home. Really, I don’t want you to feel pressured. I can just drop you off.”

A part of me wants to shrivel up with embarrassment at the thought of hanging out with the rest of BTS tonight; I’ve only ever seen them at work. Unlike with Hobi who I see nearly every day, I’ve only seen the other boys a handful of times.

I doubt they even know my name.

The small part of me that has kept me up staring at the ceiling and replaying every moment spent with Hoseok; his warm smile and soft eyes, the way he says my name and seems so kind...that part has me smiling at the man in the driver’s seat.

“If you can get us all the way to your apartment without crashing this car, I’m down to watch a movie with you guys.”

His eyes light up with something I can’t quite catch before he’s focusing on the road again.

“Perfect. Here, can you figure out how to call Jungkook on this car phone? Tell him what kind of pizza you want.”

Hobi’s apartment can be summarized in one word: clean. When he mentioned going to his apartment, I thought he meant the apartment he shares with the other six members. Instead, we’re at his own apartment. I didn’t even realize he had one of his own.

I say as much when we pull up.

“I tend to split my time between both apartments,” he says, opening up the front door. “However, the floors are being rebuffed at the shared one. So for tonight we’ll be here.”

The smell of pizza intercepts my thoughts as I kick my shoes off and watch with no small amount of amusement the way Hobi delicately places his shoes on the rack. I make sure to follow suit, grinning as he lets out a sigh of relief when I appear to be tidy.

“Helloooo,” Hobi calls as he leads me into the dining area. Jungkook already has his mouth full of pizza when he spots me.

“Oh- mmf...Sunny!” I smile at the boy I just spoke to on the phone. I guess they remember who I am, after all. “Your pizza is...oh, Jimin’s got it.”

Sure enough, Jimin is opening up a pizza with pineapple, olives, and chicken on it. He raises his eyebrows upon seeing my strange assortment of toppings.

“And this is good?”

I laugh a little at Jimin’s attitude, surprised to see him so at home with me.

Instantly feeling more comfortable around them, I grab one of the plates sitting on the table and make my way over to the pizza. “Of course it’s good. Haven’t you ever tried it before?” Hobi follows suit, looking over the options with a sharp eye.

“Can’t say I have. Mind if I steal a piece?” When I shake my head Jimin reaches over to ease a slice out of the box. “Thanks. Also, congrats on surviving the debut album. Hoseokie hyung said you were crazy busy with it.”

My eyes widen a bit as I look to the man in question. Hoseok gives me a guilty smile before returning his attention to the pizza.

“You talk about me?”

The question leaves my lips before I can stop it, and I once again chalk it up to the lack of sleep, fresh air, nutrients, and peace of mind that I’ve been getting lately. Jungkook immediately starts laughing, nearly choking on his pizza.

Hobi shrugs, giving Jimin a brief look that details his plans for his murder. “I’ve mentioned you a couple of times. It’s been a while since we’ve had a new producer under our roof- much less one that works so hard.”

While the compliment doesn’t fail to make me blush, I also can’t get over the fact that J-hope has told Jimin and Jungkook and probably the rest of the boys about me.

“In his defense,” Yoongi says, striding into the dining room wearing a large hoodie, “we did grill him for questions when he kept skipping out on meals with us.”

“Especially when he was smuggling ramyeon out of the break room,” Jungkook adds.

I’m not sure where to look as Hoseok’s face goes bright red under the chandelier. Either way, I can’t hold in my laughter.

“I was wondering where you got all that ramyeon,” I muse. The other boys chuckle, grabbing the last few things before heading out into the living room. I wait for Hobi who’s currently staring holes into his pizza.

“You coming?”

He jumps a little at the sound of my voice, looking up at me with his mouth in a small frown before smiling. He dips his head to the side in that way he always does.

“Right behind you.”

February 2019

Things slowly begin to change. The debut album is reviewed and accepted, and suddenly I’m no longer eating in my studio with Hobi. Instead, I’m showing up at his apartment after work for dinner.

His schedule has gotten busier since mine has relaxed now that TXT is debuting in less than a month. Unfortunately I can’t just show up on set or in his studio or wherever it is he’s working for the day, so instead I begrudgingly accepted his offer of dining in at his apartment.

He’s never alone, our meals now consist of Jin usually choking on something or Yoongi making sly comments under his breath. Namjoon has only been there once, according to the rest of the boys he’s a workaholic. It doesn’t surprise me at all.

Jimin is a constant at Hobi’s apartment; apparently he’s none too happy about his roommate spending more time at a separate place. Jungkook and Taehyung usually tag along, although Jungkook has a bad habit of wandering about and leaving early.

Dohyeong has come over a couple of times as well, he made sure to make fun of me for no longer stopping in at his studio.

“You’re busy these days,” I say as I try to defend myself. “I don’t want to be a distraction.”

Dohyeong shrugs, completely ignoring the dark circles under his eyes. “We’re not too busy. And you could honestly be a big help to us, if you bothered to drop in.”

I’m in the middle of rolling my eyes when Hobi speaks up from where he sits beside me. “Actually, you really should. I was talking to Bang PD about it and-”

“You talked to Bang PD about me?” I shriek, dropping my spoon in my soup and turning my full attention to the man beside me. “Are you trying to get me fired or something? Jeez, Hobi, you’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days!”

Hobi looks like he’s not certain if he wants to run off screaming or burst into laughter at my sudden outburst. He holds up his hands in an innocent gesture. “Hey, all I did was mention the fact that you’ve been working very hard and that you show a lot of promise. If we could get you on a project of ours, it might really open up a lot of doors for you. You know, more than the occasional song.”

I stare at him, the table completely silent as I study out his face. He’s casually eating his food, keeping one eye on me as though waiting for me to start beating him up. He straightens up and grabs a bit of the meat from his soup, blowing on it before extending it out to me.

Glancing between him and the meat, I sigh before leaving forward and biting it.

Later that night, as we’re watching “Inception” and everyone is lounging about the living room, I look over to Hobi who sits between Jimin and I. The light of the movie dances across his face, leaving me a bit starstruck as I mull over his words.

I’ve worked on a few small parts of songs with the other producers for BTS before, but I’ve never headed a project for them. Granted, I’ve only been at Bighit for a short amount of time. I was thrilled to know that Bang PD wanted me to be one of TXT’s main producers. It’s a big deal, especially for someone as young as I am.

So why is Hobi trying to get me to jump onto some project for BTS?

He must sense my stare, because he’s crinkling his nose before looking over at me a moment later. I stare at him with wide eyes, caught red-handed.

Apparently the dark room doesn’t show him how red I am, because he simply looks at me and raises his eyebrows, silently asking me what I’m thinking.

Scooting in a little closer until my head is resting against the back of the couch near his shoulder, I whisper my worries to him.

“It was nice of you to mention me to Bang PD, but I don’t feel comfortable just jumping in on a project with you guys. That feels...wrong, somehow.”

He nods slowly, bringing his arm around my shoulders and giving me a comforting squeeze. “Ok...you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. But I really think you should talk with Pdogg or Dohyeong about it. I just think we could really use your help.”

Once I agree to talk with Pdogg about it, Hobi removes his arm and focuses on the movie again. I close my eyes for a moment, fighting the pounding in my chest as I replay how it felt to be so close to him.

Just jumping in on a project with Hobi doesn’t feel right. I know he’s doing it out of friendship, but I also know myself. The world tends to open doors for people based off of who they know, and I refused to use that to my advantage a long time ago.

Looking around the room at the people I’ve begun to call friends, I wonder if I’ve inadvertently sabotaged myself before I could even begin.

♟

After the movie ends Hobi wastes no time getting up and driving me home like he usually does. It’s quiet inside the car, I lean my head against the window and watch the city lights stream past.

I hear Hobi’s intake of breath before he speaks. “Did you like the movie?”

Glancing over at him, I can’t help but smile. He’s nearly buried in his oversized sweatshirt, his nervous eyes flitting all over the road almost as though waiting for a bear to amble out in front of him.

“Yeah, it’s a good one. I’ve seen it before.”

He frowns. “You didn’t tell me that. We could’ve watched a different one, you know.”

I shake my head, eyes drifting down to where his hands clutch the steering wheel. “No, it never gets old.”

He turns onto my street, starting to let off the gas. “If you say so.” Coming to a stop before my apartment building, he turns to face me. “Hey, about earlier...I know it probably seemed really weird for me to just say that out of the blue, but-”

“Lock the doors.”

“What?”

I lean across him to lock all the doors, grabbing his arm out of fear when I see a burly man edging closer to the car. “Hobi…” I whisper, a sudden shot of fear coursing through my veins.

Hoseok catches sight of the man, who has bent over and is trying to see who’s inside the car. We’re both frozen as he comes ever closer, until he suddenly pounces at the passenger side door, making me scream.

“I see you!” He shouts, his hood dropping from his face. “I see you, you little-”

I don’t get to listen to his colorful language before Hobi throws the car into drive and takes off. I’m still clinging to him, staring out the passenger window. Blood is pounding through my veins, making me see stars even as I gasp for air.

“Do you know him?” Hobi asks, keeping his eyes glued to the road. His voice is exceptionally calm, despite the fact that I know he scares easily.

Finally detaching my hands from his arm, I rub my eyes. “I...I don’t know…?” We pass a speed limit sign, and I jump up in my seat. “Hoseok, slow down!”

He doesn't listen to me, and I swear he almost speeds up. I watch people’s faces as we speed by, a few staring after the nice car with a sneer. If it weren’t for the terror in my system I would have been making fun of Hobi. For a man so terrified of driving, he sure does know how to floor it.

Pressing a few buttons on the steering wheel, the sound of a phone ringing fills the car. A glance at the dashboard shows that Hobi’s calling one of their full-time bodyguards.

My jaw appears to be locked as I can’t even bring myself to open my mouth to ask him what’s happening.

“What’s going on?” The bodyguard, Do-yun, immediately asks. It’s rare for him to receive a call this late at night; it can only mean one thing: trouble.

“Do-yun?” Hoseok’s voice is ice-cold as he begins to deliver instructions. “I’m going to send you an address, I need you to stop by my apartment to retrieve a key and then bring some of Sunny’s items over.”

I perk up a little when he calls me Sunny. It’s the first time I’ve ever heard him refer to me by my pseudonym. The bright name coming from his lips somehow makes me feel cold.

“Yes, sir. Are you alright?”

I don’t miss Hobi’s gaze as he glances over at me with fire in his eyes. “We’re fine. See you soon.”

When we pull up outside of Hobi’s apartment again, I stare up at his darkened windows with wide eyes. He must sense my confusion, because he waits before getting out of the car. Gingerly unbuckling my seatbelt, his icy exterior melts enough for me to see to Hobi that I’ve grown close to over the past six months.

“Rin-ah,” he starts, and I instantly relax upon hearing my name from him. “Did you recognize that man?”

I immediately begin to shake my head. “I told you, I don’t...I don’t know.”

“Have you seen him before? Even just hanging around your apartment, down in the street or something.”

Looking into Hoseok’s eyes, I can see the unending depths of his patience. But there’s something more there, now. Something I’ve never seen before.

A sharp blade hides behind his eyes, one that I’ve never seen him wield. Watching how his hands curl up into fists against his jeans, I realize that I’m not sure I want to see that weapon at work.

Perhaps I’m at my limit, the memory of that man hurling himself at the car and attempting to claw his way inside too much for me to handle. Whatever it is, something pushes me to do something I immediately wish I didn’t.

Looking straight into Hoseok’s eyes, I lie.

Chapter 2

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vintagedolan · 4 years ago

Text

mixtape | track seven

| masterlist | faceclaims | playlist |

*contains smut*

When Nicole died, Indiana convinced herself that someone was holding down a fast forward button on her life. Some greater power with a universal remote, carelessly keeping a finger shoved down on the little button with the double arrows, with no regard to the fleeting few days she had left with her most important person.

History seemed to be repeating itself, with the best physical representation being the very quickly evolving tiny homes.

The first thing on Grayson’s agenda when they’d made it back to NYC was to decorate the property for Halloween. It hadn’t seemed like the most sound plan to Indy, considering last time they were out in the field it was just raw building materials, a platform and lots of grass. But when she climbed off the back of the quad, away from Grayson’s warmth and into the chilly air, she was standing in front of a house, or at least the bones of one, with the beginnings of the loft and stairs formed inside. It wasn’t polished yet - in fact, there wasn’t even a front door to hang the spider wreath that he had bought at Home Depot. But there was a house, and it stood as a reminder that time was passing quickly.

Despite how over the top the Dolan’s were about it, Halloween was a blink. Ethan was still in California, spending a few more days with Eden, but they facetimed in their costumes anyways - Indy had been convinced into dressing up at the last minute, which resulted in a witch costume that consisted of black leggings and a black bodysuit, which got covered up by a spare hoodie of Grayson’s early in the evening, brought on by the ever-dropping Jersey temperatures. But they celebrated with Lisa, and with E squared across the miles with a bonfire and too many pieces of candy, and Indy realized at the end of the night that it was the first holiday she’d had with family in years. It filled a vacant room in a back hallway of her heart that she didn’t realize had been abandoned, and as soon as the calendar turned to November, she was determined.

“Thanksgiving. Me, you, Lisa, Ethan, Eden, Cam, Charlie and Devin. Thoughts, opinions?”

Grayson quirked an eyebrow from the other side of the couch, face lit by his laptop screen.

“Vegan thanksgiving?”

She nudged him in the side with her foot, getting the perfect angle from where she was laying to tickle him. “Nah, we’re gonna cook a whole meal that 25% of the participants can’t eat. Sounds like the holiday of dreams.”

He poked her with a toe. “Yeah, that sounds good to me. Might have to find an extra table at Ma’s though.”

“I can plan out a menu, make sure everyone brings something. Charlie can bring plates, for all our sakes.”

“Then Ethan can bring cups, cause god knows he doesn’t know what the fuck to do in a kitchen. And I can do the menu, you’ve got enough on your plate.”

“It’s not that bad this week,” she countered, but before she could say anything else he’d picked up her planner, looking at all the little color coordinated blocks that she’d drawn out. Grayson had never had a planner before, much less an hourly one, and it stressed him out a bit just to see how little time she didn’t have allotted to something. His finger moved over a little block in dark blue, a tiny scribble inside it - time with g :).

“You block out time for us to hang out?”

“I block out time to do just about everything but pee,” she laughed, keeping her eyes on her textbook as he continued to look through her pages.

“You haven’t peed in like… 3 hours. Drink your water.”

She stuck her tongue out but did as he asked, watching the way he found something on the page and frowned, eyebrows creasing across his forehead.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He answered it too quickly, and it was her turn to frown.

“Babe. What is it?”

“It just says, uh, ‘deposit from Kenneth’. Who’s Kenneth?”

Her breathing stopped for a moment. She hadn’t heard that name said aloud in years.

“Oh um. That’s my dad. Kenneth Cross.”

He switched from realization to guilt in an instant, flipping the planner shut. Grayson wasn’t privy to much information about Indiana’s father, but he didn’t need much to know that the relationship wasn’t great.

“Shit, Dee, sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

She closed her textbook, sitting it aside with a sigh. Sitting up, she crossed her legs on the couch, a bid to get a little closer to him.

“No, it’s okay. We probably should have talked about it by now anyways. What do you want to know?”

“Whatever you want to tell me.” He offered her his hand, knowing she liked to toy with her fingers when she talked, hoping it would help.

“Well. He wasn’t always a shit head. Actually, he used to be a pretty good dad. When Charlie and I were growing up, he was always there. He coached Charlie’s basketball team, then mine. He helped mom with dinner, we all went on vacation together. I mean, I had a good childhood, I really did. But things changed when mom got sick.”

“How long was she sick?”

“Six months. It took her fast, much faster than usual with her stage and her type. I thought my dad would step up, but he didn’t. He shut down. And I get that, it was hard, but we needed him and he just… wasn’t there. Charlie had to take her to appointments because I couldn’t drive yet. He stayed at home and worked, and drank, and then drank some more and called it work. He never talked about mom, never even admitted to himself she was sick I don’t think. So Charlie and I did our best, and we stayed with her as much as we could, especially towards the end. I’d ride the subway out of the city to get to school cause I slept at the hospital most nights. And I guess Charlie and I didn’t realize, but he was working on selling the house while we were doing all that, before she was even fucking gone. So, when she did go, all of a sudden she was gone, and my house was gone, and Charlie was going to school, so it was just me and him.

“We moved into a smaller house. He didn’t talk to me. He was a shell without my mom. And I thought it would get better but it didn’t. So, I taught myself how to be okay without him, and without my mom… without anyone. I think he realized it too, and some part of him felt bad. But he knew he couldn’t fix it. So, the summer before college, he said he’d pay for wherever I wanted to live for school. I couldn’t swing rent on a Jet’s salary, and I wanted to get out of his house, so I agreed. I moved in here freshman year, and we haven’t seen each other since. Haven’t even talked on the phone really. He deposits rent in my account each month, and as soon as I can get enough money to not have him do that, I’m going to tell him to stop. I don’t want him to think I need him, for anything.”

Indy looked up for the first time since her story started, and she sucked in a breath at the sight of Grayson’s watery eyes. He blinked it away and cleared his throat, but the way he opened his arms up told a different story.

“I don’t like hating him. But I don’t know how to forgive him either.”

“C’mere,” he mumbled, waiting for her to readjust and climb on top of him. His arms wrapped around her tightly, like he wanted to press her into him and make her a part of him.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that with your mom like that, I can’t imagine.”

Indy lifted her head and looked at him with sad eyes.

“Yes you can.”

The knot in his throat grew, and he kissed her head when she relaxed against him again. He let the silence settle for a few minutes, tracing a heart against her back and pressing his lips into her hair over and over.

“I had my mom though. She helped us through the entire thing. And I had Ethan, and Cam. And I know you had Charlie, but thinking about you having to do that without a parent.” He shook his head. “I hate it. Not to mention the rest of the bullshit he’s probably put you through that you’re too nice to tell me about.”

It was her turn to get teary.

“Well, I’m okay now. I made it, and so did you.”

He ran a thumb over her cheek with a soft smile.

“Wish you didn’t have to make it through it at all.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

Grayson shifted then, rolled them over to the side so Indy was between him and the back of the couch, coiling his arms around her tightly, shifting her up enough for him to kiss her. He let his hand roam down her back, over her ass, grabbing and moving until her leg slotted above his.

“I love you,” he said, hoping she knew just how much. She moved her hand from his cheek, let her arm wrap around him, trapping him closer to her.

“Love you more.”

He shook his head at her, making her laugh against his skin.

“You don’t have a nap written in your schedule, am I gonna screw it all up?”

“I can shift things. I’m flexible.”

He laughed again, a beautiful sound that bounced off the walls of the apartment and filled the space. Indy kept her leg wrapped around him, holding him close and finding his lips with hers again, breathing him in - her favorite distraction.

“Flexible hm? How flexible?” His voice had dropped slightly, throat gruff.

She knew they weren’t going to sleep, so she gave in, dipping down to kiss along his neck, taking charge a bit more than usual.

“You know, I think we might be the only couple who can switch from parental trauma to horny within 60 seconds,” she mused, smiling at the rumbling laugh it got out of him.

“Maybe we’re just built different.”

“Hate that,” Indy mumbled, moving back up to kiss him again. He wasted no time in coaxing her shirt off, sitting them up with her in his lap so he could do the same to his own, getting her bra off quickly after his own sweatshirt was gone. There was no better feeling than her skin against his, he was sure. Her hand landed on the middle of his chest and she hummed, smiling.

“You didn’t shave your chest hair.”

He pulled back a bit with an incredulous look. He hadn't even thought about it, but she was right. “You noticed that?”

“I notice everything about you. You’re my favorite thing to study,” she smiled, and his heart melted in his chest. The only way he knew to respond was to pull her back to him. In a bed, he would have rolled them over, climbed above her, but the couch limited him and he was at her mercy for the time being.

She didn’t seem to be in much of a rush, and between the slow roll of her hips and the kisses she pressed along a path from his jaw to his collarbone, he was very much wishing she would pick up the pace. His hands slid down to her hips, pressing her down against him in a bid for friction.

“Easy,” Indy laughed his favorite laugh, the breathy one that seemed like an afterthought. “If I’m gonna rearrange my schedule, I get to set the pace.”

“Well then, take it away,” he chuckled, but it faded into more of a groan when she nipped at his shoulder, letting her hands run down his sides. She left goosebumps in the wake of her nails, and he couldn’t help but shudder as she toyed with the waistband of his sweats for a moment, like she was playing a game. Grayson Dolan wasn’t used to being at the whim of anyone, and it was liberating in a way that had his nerves buzzing.

Indiana was perhaps enjoying herself a bit too much. Usually, she was so overwhelmed by him that she didn’t have time to really take him in. So, she soaked up the opportunity of having him displayed out for her, tracing her fingers over every plane of him - the v of his hips, the muscles over his ribs. Down his arms, back up to his shoulders, running her thumbs over his scruff as she cupped his face. When she made it back down to his abs she felt them flex under her hands, his hips bucking up just barely against hers.

“Baby.” His tone was stern, and she played into a bit, looking at him as innocently as she could.

“Hmmm?”

“You’re teasing.”

“I’m admiring.”

“Okay, then you’re cheesy and you’re teasing.”

“Guilty as charged,” she murmured, shrugging a bit.

Bad move.

His arms wrapped around her tightly, ensuring he didn’t lose his grip as he planted a foot on the floor and rose up just enough to roll them, getting her underneath him on the couch. It happened so fast that all she could do was gasp, eyes wide as she stared up at him, the blues bright with shock.

“Now, where were we.”

His cockiness was back in full swing, but he paused at the pout that came over Indy’s face.

“What?”

“I kinda liked being up there,” she said, running her hands along his arms as he held himself up above her.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“You wanna switch again?”

“Kinda.”

“Okay, I’ll make you a deal. Pants off, then we switch.”

“Deal.”

He stood up first, taking her hand and pulling her up to her feet. They shimmied out of the pants and underwear quickly, leaving them in a pile on the rug in a rush to get back to each other. The mood shifted yet again when he guided her onto his lap as he sat down, lighthearted and fun as she got herself settled. Grayson had never had lighthearted sex before he met Indiana Cross. It was always scratching an itch, even when it was with people he was in a relationship with. She seemed to unlock another side of him, one that made it so much more fun to have her above him, struggling to keep her hair out of her face and get close enough to him at the same time. He wasn’t sure how she managed to be adorable and sexy at the same time, but when she finally got herself lined up and began to sink down onto him, he didn’t have the brain power left to care.

“Shit Dee,” he groaned, using every bit of self control he had to keep his hips still, letting her set her agonizingly slow pace.

She whimpered with every inch that she moved down, finally taking all of him somehow, arching her back for a moment before she caved, leaning forward onto his chest, burying her face in his neck.

He started as slow as his body would let him, groaning as she started to grind her hips, searching out an angle that kept the pressure building. It took a moment, like it always did when they tried a new position, but when she found it Grayson knew by the way her nails dug into his shoulders. He grabbed her hips to hold her there, memorizing the way their bodies fit together so he could get right back to that same spot over and over again.

“Gray,” she whimpered into his ear, bracing her forearms on his shoulders as he chased her high for her, determined to have her shaking. All she could do was moan and hold on as he thrusted into her faster with a renewed purpose, only stopping when she clenched so hard that he could barely move.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Indy whined, every muscle in her body tightening down in defense of how overwhelmed she suddenly felt, breath catching in her throat as her orgasm ripped through her. His arms coiled around her back as if he was trying to hold her together as she shook, and he chased the last of his high, lifting her off of him at the last possible second before he came, white streaks landing on his torso. He knew it would be a mess and he didn’t care - he pressed her back to him, wrapping her up for a moment in his arms and letting the two of them come down.

“Woah. Good woah,” Indy mumbled, pressing kisses to his neck where she could reach.

“I second your good woah.”

“Good.”

“Do you have time in your flexible schedule for a shower? I got you all sticky.”

She sat up and pretended to ponder it for a moment, making a show of quirking her eyebrow just to make him laugh. “I suppose I could pencil it in. C’mon.”

She climbed off him and took his hand, leading him to her bathroom with a smile. They paused in front of the mirror for a moment, and it was the first time in a long time that Indy felt happy to be looking in one. But still, she turned around and looked up at her boyfriend - he looked better in real life than in his reflection anyways.

“You know, if you play your cards right, you might just win yourself a round two.”

That was all it took for him to pick her up so fast she squealed, carrying her behind the privacy of the shower curtain for a second taste.

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

Bekah’s hands were always cold, but they felt like ice cubes in Indy’s hands. She rubbed along her skin in a bid to warm her up, eyes wandering over to Grayson.

“She’s pale,” he murmured, keeping his distance as he stood at the end of the bed. The sight of her so still in her hospital bed was unsettling. He had expected their first visit back to be filled with smiles, and ‘I miss you’s’, stories of California and her recovery.

Instead, they’d walked into Bekah’s room to find her fast asleep underneath her Halloween blanket, brows furrowed in what he hoped was concern and not pain.

“Her body is probably just trying to get used to the new cells. Not making enough blood, she’s probably up for another transfusion soon.”

“How do you know?”

Indy nodded towards what Grayson had assumed was an IV pole - he supposed it was, but instead of the usual bags of clear or milky liquid, there were just empty hooks.

“An hour.”

Bekah’s voice was dry and horse, and although it was quiet, it made both of them jump.

“Hey! How’re you feeling?” Indy immediately perked up, painting that smile across her face that Grayson had started to associate with everything hospital, from the sounds to the smell of bleach.

“Tired. My next transfusion is in an hour.”

“Did the doctor say anything about your counts?”

Bekah looked at her and rolled her eyes, wincing as she tried to sit up in bed. Indy reached to help her but she held a hand up.

“I have a transfusion in an hour, you tell me what my counts are,” she muttered, sitting up for a moment before she let out a sigh and put her face in her hands.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay Beks,” Grayson said.

“No, it’s not. You all came to see me and I’m being an asshole.”

“No one is nice when they don’t feel good,” Gray offered, moving to the other side of the bed and resting a hand on her shoulder. It was a simple gesture, a small attempt at consoling, but it was too much for Bekah. The sniffles turned into broken sobs that shook her entire body so hard it looked like she would come apart.

“I’m just tired of this. I’m tired.”

There wasn’t an adequate response to give, so the room filled with silence apart from her sobs as they did their best to hold her together, wrapping their arms around her, around each other. Indy’s eyes were red by the time Bekah’s cries quieted, and Grayson scrambled to come up with something, anything, to lighten the mood.

“Well, if we have an hour, that means we have time for an episode of something. Didn’t you say you were watching Vampire Diaries while we were gone?”

Bekah nodded, laying back against the pillows.

“Then let’s watch one and just chill. Save your energy.”

He set it up quickly, turning off the lights and pulling his chair over to the side of her bed as it started to play. When he looked over, there was just enough light to see that Bekah had reached for Indy’s hand. And to his surprise, she reached for his too. He took it, trying to ignore the way his throat tightened at the feeling of her squeezing weakly - a silent thank you as the episode began to play.

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

The first two weeks of November passed with unrelenting speed. Indiana buried herself in her school work, carving out what she could for quality time for Grayson, even if it was just going out to Jersey with him for a movie night that ended with her asleep on his lap before the opening scene was done. He didn’t mind - he just liked having her around, watching her get closer with Ethan and his mom, knowing she was safe because she was there with him. It was hard to help someone who was so determined on being independent, but he did what he could and she did the same, spending what little time she had encouraging him and supporting him.

Grayson had his own work to focus on, and it filled the time nicely as they worked to get their brands up and running through the holidays, plus the task of finalizing the plans for the details of the tiny homes. Somehow, it was already the week of Thanksgiving before he stopped to take a breath, which he found in the backyard with his brother the day before the holiday.

“Listen. I can make rolls. I can’t fuck that up.”

“Ethan, you could fuck anything up, including rolls. Just get cups. And things to put in the cups.”

“Fuck you,” Ethan grumbled, tossing the football a bit harder than necessary across the back lot. Grayson wished he’d put on gloves, but

“When is evil coming in?”

“She lands tonight, gotta go pick her up at 10:30. Is Indy staying out here tonight too?”

“No, I’m staying at her place, her sister and her boyfriend fly in tomorrow morning so we gotta pick them up. You’re picking up Cam tonight too right?”

“Yeah. Damn, I feel like dad,” Ethan laughed, a puff of white in the cold air.

Grayson waited for him to elaborate, throwing the ball back.

“He was always the chauffeur. I mean jesus, how many times do you think he picked us up from the airport when we came home?”

“True, he fucking hated that drive too. Complained about it the whole time, every time.”

“Like you don’t hate driving into the city.”

Grayson quirked an eyebrow at him, tossing the ball a bit harder, trying to put a different spin on it.

“Okay, fine, used to hate it. Now you just like it cause you get laid at the end of it.”

“True,” Gray grinned. “That makes me sound like a douchebag though.”

“You are a douchebag.”

“We’re identical twins, so if I’m a douchebag you’re a douchebag by association,” Grayson said.

“True. You aren’t a douchebag when you’re around Indiana, I’ll give you that.”

“Yeah, she wouldn’t put up with that shit.”

“You are a simp though.”

“Says you.”

“I never said I wasn’t.” Ethan shrugged, offering up a smile as he threw. “Eden really likes her by the way. Says they’d be great sister-in-laws in the future. I told her to chill with that shit though.”

Grayson missed the ball, not even bothering to watch it bounce away on the ground.

“Why?”

“Well, you said you were never going to ask her to leave, or move or whatever. And you live in LA, we live in LA, so... I mean, being here this long is just because of the tiny houses. And I know you, you can’t do long distance bro, you’re too physical.”

“Oh fuck you, I can survive without getting my dick wet if it means being with somebody I love.”

“That’s not what I fucking meant, I mean you’re touchy, and you need to be close to the people you love. Like physically close, as in in the same room, in the same house at least. That’s why I haven’t said shit about you being at her place every night of the week. I get it Gray, it’s how you are. But that shit won’t work when you’re on the other side of the country, and I know you aren’t going to ask her to fly out there to see you after how bad those flights were for her. And I love you, and I’m gonna support you, but you can’t fly home every weekend either. We have businesses, we have shit to do. Work.”

“I know that, I’m not stupid.”

“And it makes me feel like a shit brother but you always tell me that I’m supposed to keep you on track, so if that means being the bad guy then that means being the bad guy.”

“E I know.”

“I’m not saying you have to like break up with her or anything but, I just, I think it’s gonna be hard. Like really really hard.”

“Ethan. I know.”

“I just don’t want to see you hurt, that’s all.”

“Yeah. I get it. But can you just drop it for two fucking seconds? It’s almost Thanksgiving, let’s just focus on that. Besides, you’re the one who said to wait to cross the bridge when we come to it,” Grayson huffed.

“It’s the last week of November almost. Hate to break it to you, but the bridge is right in front of you.”

The thought made his stomach drop.

“Let’s go inside. S’cold.”

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

It felt unnatural to have her sister in the back seat, but that’s where Charlie climbed in after Grayson had helped them load their minimal luggage into the back of the car and made his introductions. They’d borrowed Lisa’s SUV for Devin’s sake, knowing that his long legs would be cramped in the backseat of anything, especially the truck.

“How was your flight?” Indy turned almost fully in her seat, trying to soak in every minute she had with her sister - they had to fly out bright and early the next morning.

“Bumpy,” Charlie laughed, picking at her nails in her lap. Indy frowned when she noticed - it was her nervous tick.

“Devin I have no idea how you fit in coach bro, I barely fit and I’m tiny compared to you,” Grayson chimed in, checking over his shoulder as he pulled out of the pick up lane.

“It’s a struggle my man, it’s a struggle. But I don’t think anyone in their right mind would look at you and call you tiny. You’ve got me beat in every department but leg length.”

“Hey, if you’re actually serious about growing muscle I can throw together a workout for you while you’re here.”

“For real? That would be sick bro, I could really use the help.”

Indy held back her laugh at how they both slipped into bro mode so quickly, and Charlie seemed to be on the same page as she snickered. Eventually conversation gave way to music, Indy proud of herself for finding a perfect 2000’s throwback playlist that had everyone singing and bouncing around in their seats. By the time they made it to the house, they were all a bit breathless and full of nostalgia.

When they climbed out onto the gravel, Charlie stuck close to her sister.

“Lisa is mom. And Ethan is the twin, Eden is the sister, Cameron is the girlfriend?”

“Cameron is sister, Eden is girlfriend,” Indy laughed. “Thank god you asked.”

Charlie gave a bit of a chuckle, and Indy nudged her.

“They’re good people Char. Don’t worry, they’ll love you.”

“I just… haven’t done this in a while.”

She wrapped her arm around her older sister’s shoulders as they approached the house, squeezing her lightly.

“I know sis. I know.”

Inside, Eden was trying to be subtle as she peeked through the blinds on the windows, watching the whole crew approach.

“They’re here! Come to the door, they’re here!”

“Babe, that’s creepy. Just come sit down,” Ethan laughed, waiting for Cameron to make her next move in chess.

“It’s not creepy, it’s friendly,” she countered, but she stood back from the door at the last moment to try to make it less intimidating.

“Hey guys!” Grayson’s voice boomed loud through the house as soon as he opened the door, his excitement obvious. Cam and Ethan abandoned their chess game for a moment, and Lisa came from the kitchen with a warm smile.

Indiana officially met Cameron for the first time, happy that she went in for the hug. Lisa hugged everyone, making everyone laugh when she looked up at Devin and said “my god you’re tall.”

Once everyone had met everyone, Lisa clapped her hands.

“Alright, let’s get to work!”

The Dolan’s did things in stations it seemed, which pleased Indy’s organizational side that usually went a bit crazy around the holidays. Lisa was nice enough to assign each couple a dish to work on, which of course became a competition, like everything seemed to. Indy wasn’t sure how they were going to truly compare E squared’s vegan stuffing to Charlie and Devin’s vegan mac and cheese, but she didn’t care.

Because Grayson was beaming beside her as they worked on peeling potatoes over the trash can, and everywhere she looked she saw smiles. Devin was swaying his hips to the music while Charlie tried to copy him, just a blip behind the beat. Ethan and Eden raced to see who could chop vegetables quicker until Lisa told them to slow down so someone didn’t end up needing stitches.

LIsa was the master of the operation, working on three different things at once, waving off Indy’s offer of help.

“I used to feed all three of them and their dad. Cooking for an army is second nature,” she teased, but that familiar tone was in her voice that tugged at Indy’s heart. Ethan eventually connected to the speakers and shuffled a playlist filled with everything, from Elton John to Cudi. Grayson got vegan butter on his shirt at one point while dancing too hard, and when Indy laughed he swiped it off with a finger and smeared it on her nose. The kitchen got so hot they cracked a window, with the revolving door of the oven trying to handle all the dishes and all the bodies close together.

By 2pm, everyone took turns carrying everything into the dining room to the massive which Cameron had decorated. Everyone took their places at the table, with LIsa at the head, Grayson and Ethan beside her with the girls beside them, and Charlie beside Indy, Devin beside Eden, who had seemed to hit it off with him in their short few hours of knowing each other, and Cam at the other head.

“Before we start, I think we should all go around and share something that we’re thankful for,” Lisa proposed. “I’ll start. I’m very thankful for my health, and for my family. For my wonderful daughter, and my amazing boys, and my husband, who I love and who watches over us every day.”

She could only speak for herself, but it was a safe bet that everyone’s throats tightened. Ethan cleared his before he spoke.

“I’m thankful for my family, for the quality time we get to spend together. For my brother’s ability to deal with my ass and his help in chasing our dreams and making that shit happen. And for Eden, because… well just because.”

Eden laid her head against his shoulder for a moment before she spoke up.

“I’m thankful for my dream job, and getting to do something I love every day. I’m thankful for Ethan, for loving me and keeping me sane. And I’m thankful for all of you, especially you Lisa, for welcoming me into the family.”

“I’m thankful to be here, to meet new people and get to eat some awesome food. Thank you, for inviting us in and sharing your holiday with us,” Devin said, polite as ever.

“I’m thankful for the wine,” Cam grinned, sipping from her glass quickly just to get an eye roll out of her mom. “And for all of you, and good food, and for family. Charlie?”

Charlie threw Indy a nervous glance before she spoke.

“I’m thankful for my sister, and my boyfriend, who always keep me together and on track, and who make me laugh. And I’m thankful for new friends, and good food.”

Indy had been so intent on listening to everyone else that she hadn’t even thought of her own response.

“I’m thankful for my sister, and for all of you guys, who have been so kind to me. I’m thankful for this guy,” she bumped Grayson’s shoulder. “For loving me, and supporting me in everything I do. And, I’m thankful for the years I had with my mom. I wish she could be here today, but I know she’s up there watching, and she’s thankful that I have you guys.”

She ignored the way her eyes stung, turning to Grayson, who squeezed her thigh under the table.

“I’m thankful for my family, and for the way that dad guided us to be who we are today - all of us Dolan’s. And I’m thankful for Indy for showing me what strength and determination looks like. And for everyone here, because we’re all family. I love you guys.”

The weight of his words hung in the air for a moment as everyone soaked them in.

“Alright, dig in!” Lisa broke the silence, reaching for the rolls.

Grayson squeezed Indy’s thigh once, tracing a little heart with his index finger when she leaned over to kiss his cheek before turning back to the table. They all ate until their plates were clear, almost all of them heading back in for seconds. The final verdict was that the vegan mac and cheese was the winner of the side dish competition, much to the pride of Devin. The evening settled into various activities, from Grayson teaching Devin proper pull up form to Charlie letting Eden take test shots on her camera. Indy mostly watched from the sidelines, happy to see all the people she loved all together in one place.

Her family.

“Thank you for this.” Lisa’s voice startled her a bit, but she relaxed when the older woman moved to stand beside her.

“I should be thanking you!”

“No. We didn’t do Thanksgiving last year. Everything was still too… raw, I suppose. Everyone is here because you asked them to be. So, thank you, truly.”

The tears that Indy had been fighting all day finally found their place on her cheeks, and she sniffled through a laugh when Lisa hugged her.

“Well, thanks for sharing your family.”

“It’s not sharing if you’re a part of it my dear.”

She pulled her close for a hug before the two of them folded themselves into the mix, running around in the cold air of the backyard and enjoying each other’s company as the night drew to a close. They opted for pie and vegan ice cream to finish off the night, and Charlie insisted they take some pictures before the food comas took over. She’d thought ahead enough to bring a tripod, and she sat it up in the living room, making sure every couple got a few that they liked, and that they all got one together. Lisa requested one of just her kids where they of course all goofed off enough to annoy her. Charlie would send them all in the next few days, Indy’s favorite being the one of her on Grayson’s back, wrapped around to kiss his cheek while he grinned with his eyes squeezed shut. It became her lock screen as soon as she saved it, and Lisa went on to get the family one framed, as well as the one of all of them together too, both beside each other on the mantel held with equal importance.

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

The Thanksgiving leftovers only lasted two days in Indy’s fridge. With the stress of preparing for four cumulative finals, she didn’t have time to cook anything, and the microwaveable vegan leftovers were a god send. So was Grayson, who stayed by her side each day as she studied, quietly keeping himself busy with work until she needed him. It was a nice co-existence, both of them understanding the need for quiet but enjoying each other’s presence nonetheless. By Wednesday, she was only left with one last final, though it was her hardest, and she couldn’t convince herself that she’d prepared enough despite pulling multiple all nighters. He quizzed her when she asked, even though he butchered half the pronunciations. His commentary was the comedic relief she needed to get through it though, and she was more than grateful that he was there.

“Last set, and then you need to take a break.”

“But-”

“No buts. Unless you’re talking gluteus maximus.” He grinned when she rolled her eyes. “Baby you’ve been going non stop for 4 hours now.”

“Okay fine, hit me with it.”

“Soleus.” She pointed to the side of his calf. “Extensor carpi ulnaris.” The outer side of his forearm. “Zygomaticus major.” His cheek. “Iliopsoas.” The inside of his thigh.

“Dee, you know these. You literally don’t even have to think about it, you know them.”

She shook her head before he even finished his sentence. “I need more practice.”

“The only thing you need more of is sleep,” he countered. “C’mon, we’re both exhausted, let’s just take a nap.”

“Once we finish the set, then we can.”

“Fine. Serratus anterior.”

She tickled his ribs, making him squirm away from her.

“Biceps femoris.” She heaved his leg up from where it was resting on the couch, pointing to a spot in the middle of the back of his thigh.

“Teres major.” It was a reach, but she made it around to the back of his armpit.

“Teres minor.” She poked the same spot, just a bit harder.

“Okay, ouch, don’t abuse my teres. Uh, gastrocnemius.” She was gentler on his calf.

They went through the rest of the stack like that, with Grayson doing his best to say them correctly while Indy poked and prodded.

As soon as he flipped the last card he yawned, sitting the stack aside and leaning forward to grab her, dragging her on top of him and nuzzling his nose into her hair. Indy sighed and relaxed into him, his warmth and the weight of his arms settling her body down. She could remember the days where she’d always wanted something as simple as this, just laying on her couch with someone to hold, and she tried to soak it in.

“I love you,” she said.

“I love you more,” Grayson countered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. His hands moved under her shirt over her back, finding space.

R-E-L-A-X

“Can’t. My mind won’t stop.”

“Well, I’d offer to sing to you or some shit, but your ears would probably bleed,” he chuckled.

“S’okay. I’ll just dream about muscles or something. Innervations.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“Oh yeah, riveting stuff.”

She wiggled around to get comfortable, her cheek squished against his chest as he rubbed her back.

“Sleep, have your little anatomy dreams,” he teased, reaching over the back of the couch for a blanket to drape over the two of them.

It took a little while, but she managed to drift off to the soothing sound of his heartbeat and the feeling of his fingers against her skin.

And she dreamed.

Indiana was in a hallway. White, smooth walls with doorways that stood black and brooding on either side. Her stomach turned a bit, unease washing through her veins as she took a few small steps forward, moving to peek past one of the frames.

“Don’t sweetheart.”

Her head shot up. At the end of the hall was Nicole. She looked young, even younger than Indy’s last memories of her. Youthful, and full of life, her blonde hair familiar as it hung down and framed her face.

“Mom.”

“Hi my love.”

Indiana ran. She barreled past the doors, not even giving them a second thought as she finally, finally landed in her mother’s arms. The tears were inevitable, but she didn’t care that she shook as Nicole held her, the way only a mom could. Held her body, but held her soul.

“Where have you been? Where’d you go?”

“I’ve been here the whole time. Right here with you.”

“I miss you. I miss you so much.”

“I know. But I’m here.”

She pulled back, letting her mom brush her hair behind her ear the way she always used to when it fell into her eyes.

“Look at you. You’re all grown up. Look at those beautiful eyes. So blue.”

“Just like yours,” Indy said.

“Just like mine.”

A part of her knew that she was dreaming. She knew her mother was gone, that this wasn’t real. But her heart refused to accept it, because she could feel her mother’s skin, hear her voice, feel her like she hadn’t been able to in so long. So she just stared. Tried to memorize every part of her face, every smile line, every freckle. She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, but Nicole was the one to break the silence.

“Baby. I need you to be careful.”

Indy frowned. “Careful?”

“With your heart. I need you to be careful with your heart, with my heart.”

“Momma what do you mean?”

Nicole looked to the left. Indy followed her gaze, surprised to see that the light was on in the doorway.

The doorway to Bekah’s room.

“Beks,” she breathed. Her feet automatically moved, taking her into the room until Nicole’s arms wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her back.

“Indiana,” Nicole cautioned. “No.”

“No, no Mom it’s okay, she’s getting better, see? Look, she’s fine.”

She pushed forward, but Nicole’s grip only tightened.

“No baby. Look.”

Indy listened. And she watched. Watched Bekah try to sit up in her bed. She was probably calling for Jessica, or Emily, or maybe even Indy. Her mouth opened, and no sound came out, her eyes going wide for a moment before she fell back against the pillows, chest rising too fast, too shallow. Indy knew what that meant.

“No. NO! Beks! Bekah!”

“Shhhhh baby, there’s nothing you can do, Indiana stop, there’s nothing you can do.”

“BEKAH!” She cried anyways, fighting her mother’s grip as she watched the monitors light up, heard their mocking monotone calls as they alarmed. Nurses appeared, and Indy watched them do all the right things, give all the right medicine.

She didn’t wake up.

“No, no no no no,” Indy wailed, thrashing in her mother’s arms.

“Indiana. Indiana. Dee!”

She was back in her living room, and Grayson was scared.

“Wha-” she looked around, bewildered. She was sitting up, which disoriented her a bit, though she was with it enough to realize she was still in Grayson’s lap.

“Hey, you’re okay, you’re safe,” Grayson said, eyes still wide. He pushed her hair back out of her face as she looked down, only then realizing that she’d balled up his shirt in her hands. She let go, looking at the disheveled fabric, which was also splotched with dark spots.

“I’m- sorry, I don’t… I uh… I had a nightmare. Sorry.”

“It’s okay baby,” Grayson murmured. “You okay?”

Those two words brought on a whole other wave of tears, and she crumpled into him, shaking her head as she cried.

It took him by surprise for a moment - he knew she didn’t like to cry, and he’d never really seen her so upset. So he took a moment to process, and then he lifted her arms up over his shoulders, coiling his own around her and squeezing her to him as tight as he could without crushing her. He didn’t speak. He just held her, let her get it out of her system, whatever it was.

When her sobs turned to sniffles and his shirt was fully soaked through on the shoulder, he spoke up.

“What do you need? What can I do?”

She pulled back from him, frame seeming even smaller somehow as she sat there.

“Can you go check on Bekah? I know it’s Wednesday, and I know we’re going to tomorrow but… you don’t have to, I just, I know she’s alone up there, but I have so much work to do, and-”

“I can go. I’ll go,” he said. The pieces fell together in his brain, and he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Thank you,” she exhaled, shoulders slumping back down.

“Are you gonna be okay here by yourself while I’m gone?”

“Yeah, I need to study anyways, I’ll keep myself busy. Just need to know she’s okay.”

“Okay. I’ll make sure she’s good, might hang out for a bit and watch something if she’s up for it.”

“That sounds amazing. Thank you.”

He didn’t like the idea of leaving her there, but he could tell she wouldn’t have any peace of mind until she knew that Bekah was okay. It reminded him off all the times he’d called his mother in the middle of the night in those last few months before he’d officially come home, just to make sure his dad was still there.

“If you need me, call me okay? I’ll turn back around.”

“I will.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. I love you,” she said, kissing him quickly.

“I love you more.”

He shifted her off him onto the couch and got up, putting his shoes and coat on quickly before he could convince himself to stay. It was already dark outside despite it only being 6pm, and he kept his head down on the streets on his way to the hospital, mind racing until he got up to the unit and signed in.

He half expected Bekah to be lying still in her bed, on her back with all her machines on. Or, at least for her to be drained and tired like she had been the last few times they saw her. But when he cleared the doorway she was sitting up in bed on her phone, random Tik Tok audio’s playing. She looked up at him and smiled her brightest smile.

“Earrings! It’s a Wednesday, the fuck are you doing here?!”

He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“You get an extra dose of me this week, deal with it,” he teased, unzipping his coat and laying it over one of the chairs.

“Where’s Indy?”

“Studying for finals. It’s a me you date tonight, you pick. What’re we doing?”

“Well, I restarted Vampire Diaries.”

“Restarted? Bro, you were on season 7 yesterday!”

“Yeah so? The best seasons are the first two, we’ve been over this.”

“Whatever, scootch over.”

She did as he asked, though he had to put the bedrails down to even fit halfway on the mattress.

“Here, get in here so we can send some motivation to Dee,” he said, pulling out his phone and opening snapchat. They moved so just their noses-up were on screen, making Bekah laugh as he sent it off.

She screenshotted it and sent back a heart, which put his mind at ease enough to relax and attempt to enjoy an episode, though he wasn’t really following the plot considering they were almost halfway through the first season.

“So, what’s happening exactly?” He finally asked 20 minutes into the episode.

“Stefan is trying to be all ‘you deserve better than me’, and Damon just doesn’t give a shit. Essentially, Stefan doesn’t want to hurt Elena so he wants her to make the decision to break it off so he doesn’t have to. He doesn’t want to be the bad guy.”

“But if he loves her, then why does he want to break it off at all?”

“Well cause he’s bad for her. She would have to give up so much for him. She’s having to lie to her friends, hide all this stuff for him. Change her whole life really. But she wants to, because she loves him, he just doesn’t think it’s fair to ask that of her. But like… he’s still asking her to do it just by being with her, you know?”

He knew.

“I mean, and he’s a fucking vampire. Yah know, suck suck and all that jazz,” Bekah laughed. “If the rest isn’t a deal breaker, then that definitely is. I mean, yeah, Damon’s a vampire too but at least he just accepts it, and he doesn’t ask her to change or anything.”

He didn’t say anything.

“I’m Team Damon, if you couldn’t tell,” she tried again.

“Yeah. Me too.”

Grayson tried to shake himself out of his thoughts, but it was proving difficult. Luckily, Bekah just mistook it as him being super invested in the show, which made her happy. Jessica let him stay an extra fifteen minutes, and he took a quick video of Bekah wishing Indy luck on her last final before he left and headed out.

The walk home was worse. It was darker somehow, colder as his mind raced with realization after realization. He did his best to do the math in his head. It was December 3rd, which meant 30 days until he was supposed to go back to LA. All the way to the other side of the country, only coming back to Jersey every few months if he was able to. Ethan’s voice rang in his head as he trudged through the lobby and into the elevator.

That shit won’t work when you’re on the other side of the country.

He tried to breathe it off, put on a positive face before he opened Indy’s apartment door, smiling when he saw her on the couch, pencil tucked behind her ear as she looked over diagrams.

“Hi! How was it?”

“It was good, she’s good. Looks great actually.”

His phone buzzed in his pocket once, then again, and he pulled it out to check it.

A notification of a payment from the joint bank account, and then a text from E.

Booked the flights for the 2nd. Hope that’s cool.

“Everything okay?” Indy asked.

He put his phone back in his pocket and smiled.

“Yeah. Everything is fine.”

#lmao at me not formatting this right haha #lets try again!#mixtape #grayson dolan #dolan twins #grayson dolan fanfiction #let me know what you think in exchange for my eternal love

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allthatglittersisnotgoldrush · 3 years ago

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Author Interview: Victoryindeath2 (by Mythopoeia

Thank you @abadpoetwithdreams! I hope you don't regret the last question you asked :D

1. You are responsible for creating the characters of Frog and Sticks! What canon Silm event are you most excited to see from their child perspectives?

Soooo many things—but I am interested to see how they will feel when Mae is back on his feet, a warrior more deadly with his left than he even was with his right, the sort of man who can in canon create the Union of Maedhros. The children have seen Maedhros at his lowest, seen him tormented and crushed into the earth in the cruelest of ways. They also saw how he could be his best even when there was no hope or light for him—he protected them and was kind to them and loved them. I am just interested to see how other men’s and women’s opinions might change as Maedhros moves into the next phase of his life, and how the children will, in some ways, always see Maedhros as their Russandol.

Sticks: yeah I knew he was cool before you all realized it

Frog: *drops a rock in Mae’s left hand and curls up in his lap* tell me and my pet rock a story Mae

Mae: I actually have leadership things to do....

Sticks: you owe us for all the stories you didn’t tell us back in the Bad Place

Mae: *tells them a story and Fingon finds the kids sleeping under Mae’s arms twenty minutes later*

(There is also a non-canon event sometime in the future that I want so VERY badly but guess I can’t say because of spoilers *sighs*)

2. We often joke about how this AU is basically our own crazy version of a Silm tv series. What are some of favourite moments in the series so far that stand out to you as particularly cinematic?

There are so many moments, some of the wondrous and stunning variety, and some of the quiet and beautiful....but here are a few that leapt right to my mind:

a. Maedhros and Fingon parting the last time before Feanor divided the families almost forever! Maedhros with his hair in the sunlight on his horse and the line, “see you on the other side, cano!”

b. Gosh DARN it Mae on the cliff, with Morgoth offering him the chance to leap to his death, and he doesn’t take it *cries*

c. FINGON’S CHILD OF THE WOLF MOMENT WHERE HE TAKES MAIRON OUT (ALSO RIGHT BEFORE WHEN MAE GRABS AT HIS ANKLE AND TRIES TO GET FINGON TO SAVE HIMSELF)

d. Maedhros riding into the thrall camp and basically falling into Gwindor and SLINGING AN ARM AROUND HIS NECK YES HUGS ALL AROUND YESSSS

e. Look Ceili fic I know we talk about it all the time but I am here to talk about it again, especially the moment where Mae pulls Caranthir out on the dance floor and then they all dance together and everyone ends up in a pile on the floor except for Mae who just stands over them all laughing I think doubled over and there is so much good energy in that scene I NEED IT ON SCREEN

f. Personally I like to think that Celegorm stalking his way into a club in New York City and beating the living daylights out of Eol was cinematic

g. Maedhros having successfully argued Huan’s way into the journey west, stumbling all tired like up to the stairs, and meeting Nerdanel there, and resting his head on his mom’s neck. The darling tol bby

h. MAE ATTACKING ULFANG FOR THE SAKE OF HIS BROS, GOING FROM DEPRESSED BROKEN BABY WHO HAS LOST ALL HOPE TO DEPRESSED BROKEN BABY WHO HAS LOST ALL HOPE BUT STILL WILL FIGHT FOR HIS BROS

i. Bby Mae lying on Feanor’s chest ;;;;;;;;;;; before Feanor became the worst

j. Can’t even remember what fic it was at this point but there is a dream? Mae has? Of like....the sea and red sun or something? It was a lot

k. There are many many more moments and I am mad that I can’t remember the one that stood out to me recently

l. ..........the whole fic Seven Card Stud

m. MOONLIGHT GUNSLINGER MAE AND HOW HE TOTALLY OUTCLASSED MAIRON

n. Every hug and brotp and found family moment ever. I have addictions and there is never enough of what I want on screen

o. THERE ARE MORE SPECIFIC ONES BUT I HAVE TO STOP AT SOME POINT DON’T I

3. Walk me through what an ideal day would look like for Caranthir?

The MOST ideal day would be Caranthir waking up in his little closet bedroom in Formenos and realizing he just had a horrible nightmare, and also realizing that he still has his mom and ALL of his brothers. And then at the breakfast table Feanor says something like “wow I’ve been stupid in a good many ways, and a rotten dad because of that, good thing I have recognized my flaws and shall now be a better person, also Mae you can stop going to live in the city if you want, just stay here with your brothers. Also you know, Caranthir, even though you’re still my least favorite child, I’m proud of you. And not just because these are the best pancakes I have ever tasted.”

Then Caranthir probably helps his mom in the garden, gets some quality one on one time with Mae when Mae helps him make a pie, Mae reminds him how special and good he thinks Caranthir is, and Celegorm and Curufin ask Caranthir to join them for fishing. Not that Caranthir necessarily wants to do that, but he does want to be asked. Then Amras and Amrod ask him to help them with sums, so that he feels like a helpful big brother, and without being asked, Maglor takes out his fiddle and plays the slow-moving, peaceful song that Caranthir loves and Maglor despises because it is not challenging enough

4. What is a character POV you have not written yet about but would like to?

I would like to write something from Maeglin’s POV—I feel a powerful urge to protect that lost boy. He’s had an odd and often terrifying life and he needs a break. Good grief imagine having a mom like his mom, imagine Morgoth commanding you to call him uncle. Ew. Anyway, he’s exactly the sort of character I usually adopt as my son. An angsty sad boy without much future, who needs LOVE

5. If you could recommend only one fic from each author (including yourself, of course) what would they be?

HOW TO PICK?!

TolkienGirl: wayyyyy too many to really choose from but I have to go back to the beginning and say “news, breaking” because of the way it introduces my Feanorian boys, and also because of Mae wearing a flowered apron one minute and then a half open leather vest the next, with his glorious hair tied back!

Mythopoeia: I feel like I have to say “those gathered beneath” because it was so DEFINITIVE of our favorite Irish family, and also Turgon is a great narrator (but since I always talk about this fic I shall also add another, lesser known perhaps: “save ourselves unaided” because it introduces Haleth and more people need to appreciate Haleth and Mythopoeia’s Haleth is SO GOOD)

Victoryindeath2: “a certain slant of light (where the meanings are)” because it was my first Caranthir fic, and so it holds a special place in my heart

Bonus Q: The Feanorians are now a KPop group. What are their hair colors and roles?

THE WAY I CHOKED ON MY LAUGHTER WHEN I FIRST READ THIS QUESTION

I ALSO GOT WAY TOO CAUGHT UP IN THIS SO IF YOU ARE AN AU READER WHO DOESN’T CARE ABOUT KPOP IN ANY WAY YOU CAN STOP HERE, I WON’T BE MAD. On the other hand I think I have really good answers so maybe you should continue lol

Maedhros: He has to be a coppery red-head, doesn’t he? Maybe something of the red color that you once told me you wanted Heeseung to try. He would make a great leader, but ALSO. Also I think that he has had enough stress in canon in and in our AU, so I really just want to give him the opportunity to be merely the eldest hyung, who everyone goes to for comfort, for hugs and advice, and who supports the leader quietly. He is a good vocalist and can maybe rap in a pinch? but we put so much emphasis on him as a dancer that he HAS to be the dance leader. Obviously. Is widely acknowledged as the visual of the group

Maglor: Longish black hair, maybe midnight blue or deep purple. Has tried several different hairstyles and regretted half of them. He claims a specific aesthetic in hair and dress is necessary for him to compose the group’s songs, and while he gets teased by everyone for this he also writes amazing music so? It works? Is definitely a vocalist. His vlives consist of him playing every instrument known to man, and half the time Mae is sitting in the background listening with an awed expression on his face—till he falls asleep. Maglor can’t decide if he is pleased by this or insulted

Celegorm: Usually rocks blond or silver hair, but one time some fool insulted Amrod’s pink hair and the next thing you know Celegorm had pink hair for three months. Probably disparaged Maglor’s mullet phase but tried it once himself as a penalty for a game in a Run Feanorian episode and kinda thought it wasn’t half bad.

Celegorm is the “I don’t follow what the company says” member, “screw the rules if they aren’t good for my fam.” He is also a sick rapper and his diss tracks and mixtapes are things of beauty. He also clearly frequents the gym and will toss an annoyed member—most likely Maglor, but sometimes Curufin—over his shoulder any chance he can get. Has definitely done pushups with Amrod or Amras on his back. He and Mae swept the ISAC games

Caranthir: Typically goes with brown/black hair, which only throws the fandom into more of an uproar when the rare occasion arises in which he actually dyes it some other color. Probably went mint for a music video and Curufin started calling him mint choco boy, which offends him deeply as he is (sadly) on the side of “mint chocolate ice cream tastes like toothpaste.” He’s a vocalist with a rougher voice that is surprisingly pleasing to listen too.

Speaking of surprises, Caranthir never quite understands his own popularity. He didn’t like to do vlives by himself for ages, until Mae encouraged him to do cooking and baking vlives, and now he does one once a month on a schedule. Fans are putting together a book of his recipes

Curufin: He does intense and striking hairstyles and colors, and is probably the most likely to do black hair streaked through with red, teal, green, gold, white, etc. He claims to be the visual of the group and Mae is the one member who always agrees with him. I’d say he is also a dancer, one almost as good as Mae but with a different style, and he has a quick and sharp rap. He is heavily involved in the production of their songs over time.

Here is the thing though—I think, in this better non-canon non-Gold Rush AU universe, that Curufin could be the leader. See, Feanor is not gonna be the company CEO loll. Fingolfin is. And Fingolfin mentors better than Feanor EVER could. And Curufin is a sharp lad, very smart and crafty, and if he could just be convinced to care about all his brothers/group members like he does about himself and Celegorm in the AU, and if he just has proper guidance, allowing Mae to assist him in struggles, going to him for support, I think he would be an excellent leader

Ambarussa: Amras and Amrod have tried every color and color combination under the SUN, and they often coordinate with each other either to match or complement. Amras sometimes gets tired of this, preferring to stick to the general group color scheme, and when that happens Amrod just says fine be like that and goes off and does his own thing. Sooner or later though, Amras always gives in and joins him once again.

The twins obviously have all their hyungs wrapped around their little fingers, even Maglor who is driven insane by them crashing into his room shrieking and giggling when he is trying to write music or run a very serious vlive. As far as their musical talents go, I love when maknaes are ridiculously well-rounded, and these are Feanorian maknaes, so I’m gonna say they can both dance, sing, and rap. People have placed bets on whether they will grow as tall as Mae (spoilers, they won’t, no one ever will, he’s the tallest in Kpop world)

Huan: is the team mascot, and lives in their large dorm with them because Celegorm said so

Anddd that’s all folks

#author interviews #gold rush AU #the silmarillion #q&a #yes mythopoeia gave me a kpop question and I was on a roll with it shush don't judge me #even if you are tolkiengirl #victoryindeath2 answers questions

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bidoldaccount · 4 years ago

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Grow As We Go - Five

Word Count: 1,626

ONE ; TWO ; THREE ; FOUR

Read on AO3

Read on Wattpad

Dean is the father.

After two home visits, a lot of dealings with the court, a matched paternity test, and a lot of sympathetic looks, Dean is biologically, and most important, legally, Jack's father.

Dean kisses Cas hard when everything is done, and they both kiss Jack's cheeks. Bobby gives Dean two weeks off of work, and Cas is only in school for another week before spring break, so they spend their time cooped up in the apartment, getting to know themselves as parents. Getting to know Jack, Jack getting to know them.

"You are killing this whole tummy time thing, dude, absolutely shredding it. Look at me, look at daddy," Dean smiled, tilting his head as Jack tried looking up. He smiled when he saw Dean, his knees wriggling like he was trying to go for Dean.

Dean is the best at playtime, they find. He does the best car noises, he does a killer Elmo impression, and he can make Jack smile by simply raising his eyebrows.

Castiel is better with stories and sleepy time. He'll lay Jack on his chest, skin to skin, and breathe as evenly as he can while reading a book. Jack goes instantly still when Cas starts to speak, like a switch goes off and he's boneless. Dean watches in amazement most nights, when Jack is fussy and hates everything and doesn't like skin to skin contact with Dean, he'll go quiet in Castiel's arms, just rest against his skin and breathe.

Two nights before Dean has to go back to work and Cas has to go back to teaching, they sit down in the living room while Jack sleeps in his crib. Dean places his head in his hands and he's crying but Castiel isn't sure why. Cas sits behind him for a while, just laying his head on Deans back, waiting paitently until he's ready to share.

"This is so unfair to you." That is not what Castiel would have expected, but he doesn't let his surprise show. "A baby shows up on my door step and suddenly you have to co-parent with a guy you've only been with for a year. I can't imagine how hard this must be for you. I probably made you feel pressured to stay with me, God, Cas," Dean pulls at his hair as he tried to soften his cries. Cas picks his head up and looks towards Dean with furrowed eyebrows.

"What? Dean, if I didn't want to be here then I wouldn't be. I don't feel pressured to stay, I'm staying because I love you," Castiel said.

"But what if I change. Parenthood changes people, doesn't it? What if it makes me someone that you don't like. Someone that you'd rather not be with? I'm not going to have any time between working and Jack, how am I supposed to be a good boyfriend while trying to be a father?" Dean hiccups, his chest tight.

"Hey, honey, look at me," Cas only pulls out that nickname on special occasions, so Dean glances up rather quick. Cas scoots over so that he's sitting at Deans side. He brings his hand up to wipe away the tear tracks on Dean's cheeks. "I love you, okay?" He whispered softly. "I love you as a boyfriend and I'll love you as Jack's father. You don't have to be alone to be a good father and you don't have to be childless to be a good boyfriend. We're going to figure it out, because that's what people do when they have kids. They change and they grow, but they don't have to do it alone," Cas shakes his head, wiping away more tears.

"I'm so scared, Cas. What if I mess something up? With you or with Jack? What if I screw him up?" Dean whispers.

"Screwing up is apart of the deal. A little trauma never hurt nobody," Dean laughs wetly. "Kidding, but seriously, parents make mistakes, it's apart of the process. For what it's worth," Cas leaned his chin on Dean's shoulder, his forehead at his temple. "You're doing a great job and I think you're an amazing father." Dean closed his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest.

"I'm so happy you're here, Cas," he said.

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else." Dean cries a little bit more, then Cas decided that their pity party is over. He grabs two sodas from the fridge, and sets out a piece of paper on the coffee table between them.

"Okay, I have to be at school by 7 and the latest I leave is 3:30, so if you drop Jack off at daycare before work, that puts him there from 10 to 4, that's 6 hours, with $15 an hour, we'll be looking at roughly $450 a week. It might be slightly lower because we have a fixed schedule and I get out early on Wednesday's, but that's a rough guess."

"I already have a headache," Dean grumbled.

"I've already calculated what we pay in rent, electricity and utilities, also factoring in Jack's necessities, a monthly food budget, daycare, our Netflix subscription, estimated gas expenses, our phone bills, etc. This is what we're looking at left over," Cas slides the paper to Dean and Deans eyes widen.

"Wait, are you serious? I thought it would be a lot less," he said.

"You make good money at the garage on top of what you earn from consulting, and I earn a good amount from teaching and translating," Castiel said.

"Wow, I guess I just never paid attention to it before," Dean said, still staring at the paper.

"We've never been hurting for money," Cas shrugged.

"Then why are we living in this shitty one bedroom?" Dean asked.

"Because then Jack would have been left on the doorstep of someone else's home while we were in a cozy two bedroom?" Cas shrugged.

"Ha. Ha," Dean rolled his eyes. " I'm serious though, do you think we should move? We can certainly afford at least a two bedroom," Dean said.

"I mean, I thought about it even before Jack but I thought it was too soon, now that he's here though, we could use the space," Cas said.

"Okay, next on the list, find forever home," Dean widened his eyes dramatically. Cas huffed a laugh, rolling his eyes.

"A forever home might have to wait a few years," he said.

Castiel was right, as he always is. Before Jack turns seven months, they sign a lease for a two bedroom apartment. Dean has an anxiety attack on their first night because he's afraid they won't wake up if Jack cries. It took Cas an hour to talk him into bed, and twenty minutes to make him stop trying to get out. Dean wakes up at 6am and he startles, flying out of bed to make sure Jack didn't hurt himself through the night. When he busts into his room, Jack is still soundly sleeping and Castiel shakes his head with a fond smile.

When Jack turns three, Dean stumbles upon a cheap house in a good neighborhood. It was nearly run into the ground because of foundation issues, no one wanted it, and the couple was desperate to sell. It took very little convincing from Cas to purchase. Dean tore the entire house down and started from scratch. It was almost nine months before Dean allowed Cas and Jack inside of the shell of their home, pointing out rooms and different features. Cas had cried the first time he saw it.

It was shortly after Jack turned four that they officially moved into the house. Two stories, painted a soft yellow that was easy on the eyes, blue shutters, a white picket fence. A very spacious garage. Cas pointed out everything that Jack helped pick out, like the granite countertops, and the wallpaper in the hallway.

"Do you like it?" Dean asked nervously once Jack was sound asleep in his new bedroom, the walls a soft blue with a space theme. He wrapped his arms around Cas' waist as they stood in the foyer, the living room the right, the stairs to the left, kitchen directly ahead. Cas leaned his head back with a furrow in his brow.

"No, I hate it, I want a home that my amazing boyfriend didn't build," he rolled his eyes as he turned in Deans arms. "Are you kidding?" He wrapped his arms around Dean's shoulders and kissed him softly. "I love it. You did such an amazing job, I can't believe you built this," he whispered.

"You and Jack deserved a home," Dean shrugged as he stepped away, hands in his pockets. "You deserve the world for being so incredibly amazing and supportive all these years," Castiel gasped as Dean lowered himself onto one knee, pulling a small velvet box from his pajama pants. "As I was building this house for you and Jack, I thought a lot about our life together. I thought about when Jack would get so calm by just laying on your chest, and the way you cried on his first day of school, and our first date when you spent twenty minutes talking about bees. I can't imagine my life without you, without you being right there next to me, so, Castiel Novak, will you marry me?" Castiel breathed out shakily as he nodded.

"Yes," he pulled Dean back up to his feet, grabbed the front of his shirt, and smashed their lips together. Dean couldn't stop smiling as he slipped the ring onto Castiel's finger.

"I love you so much," Dean said with a bright smile.

"I love you too," Cas sniffed as he pulled Dean into him, hugging him tightly.

#Destiel #dean winchester #castiel #jack kline #baby jack kline #established relationship #established destiel #dean winchester x castiel #castiel winchester #happy ending #fluff

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rainbowglittr · 3 years ago

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Love and Marriage - Chapter 10 (Mature, Minors DNI)

Description:

After a loss in the family uncovers a family secret, Jaleia and her husband Jesse are forced to balance one family crisis after another along with their budding careers and their plans to expand their family. Will the pressure to keep everyone else together ruin their own relationship? Can ruined relationships be fixed before it’s too late?

Chapter 10:

Jesse's POV

I opened the door to our hotel room. I slept on the plane and I was still tired.

"Ooooooh." Diana said walking into the room behind me. We had a two room suite. I turned to Diana.

"Pick whatever room you want, shake out the blankets, and sleep. We got a busy day tomorrow. Or today." I rubbed my face. Diana slept on the plane and now was wide awake, touching everything in the room.

"Di, go to bed, I'm tired."

"Sorry, I'm just so excited. I can't even sleep! We haven't been here in so long. Thanks for bringing me. Oooh, let me take pictures by the window." She ran to the window.

"I'm going to bed, don't do anything crazy. Night." I said.

"Kay, night Jess!" She said

I found the bigger room and collapsed on the bed.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

"I miss you already, babe! I couldn't sleep." Jaleia said. I was face timing her before me and Diana left for the day. It was 5AM her time but 8AM in Cali.

"I miss you too, love. I haven't had to go away in a while. "

"I know. I hated it when you lived in L.A."

"Yeah, you kept telling me."

"So what's the schedule like?"

"Today me and Di are hanging out. This week and next I'm working with the new artists. The week after next is when I work with some famous people."

"Sounds fun. I'm going back to sleep. Love you."

"Alright baby, don't over sleep. Love you."

I hung up. I grabbed my wallet and keys and walked out the room. Our suite was nice, it had two rooms, a common area, a bathroom and a small kitchen area. It looked expensive as hell so I was glad that the studio was paying for it. I make decent money but sure as hell not enough to stay here for three weeks. Maybe not even 3 days.

I walked to Di's room and knocked on her door. After the "incident" we've all been more aware of knocking first.

"Di are you done? We gotta go!" I yelled through the door.

"Almost! I just gotta find the right shoes!"

"Well hurry up! We gotta pick up the rental car." I said. Because we were going to be here for a few weeks I got a rental to make it easier to get around. Having lived her before I knew the traffic was going to be shit.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

Diana had not stopped talking since we left the hotel. It was making my head spin. We had just picked up the rental, and now we were now on our way to see the Hollywood Star Walk of Fame. Diana had been bugging me to take her. And as I predicted we were stuck in traffic.

"And hopefully we have time to go to Universal or Disneyland or world or whatever the one on cali is called. I can't wait to take selfies. What do you-"

"Di."

"I cannot wait so see L.A, like really see it.-"

"Diana."

"I'm just so Excited!!"

"DIANA!"

"What?"

"Just a second of silence, please." I said.

"Sorry." She said.

"Don't be, my head is killing me." I said which wasn't exactly a lie but I felt bad for killing her joy.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

We got back to the hotel at midnight. Diana made me feel old. She dragged me everywhere on the Hollywood Stars to find her favorite stars. My feet and back hurt. I was done.

My phone rang and I groaned. I had spread out on the couch in the room while Di took a shower. I looked at the screen. Jaleia was face timing me. I answered.

"Hey Jess!" Jaleia said. She looked like she was in our bed.

"Hey bae." I said, trying to keep my eyes open.

"Awww, you look tired, how was your day? Diana drag you around?"

"Hell yeah! We went to the Hollywood Walk of fame. When I tell you I'm tired. I'm done! It was fun but damn."

"Aww, you're a good older bro. You look so tired. It's adorable."

"Woman, I am not adorable. I'm a man. I'm not adorable. "

"Yes you are! So cute when you're tired. I'll let you get some rest, make sure you call me. I love you."

"I promise I'll talk more tomorrow. I love you, bae. Bye."

"Bye."

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The first few days in the studio were great. They knew what they wanted, what sound they were going for and they were already talented in music. There were three artists this week, Alana who was looking for a pop sound, Smoke R&B, Jazmyne soul. We worked on about three tracks in for each of them. When I'm in L.A it's a much bigger song writing and producing team. I got my man Dre, best friend since NYU, who produces, JD, Dre, Mandy all produce, and Mark, Green, and J.T and I all write. We do melodies and help produce as well but mostly we do the lyrics. I produce as well but my strength is in the lyrics. It's a lot of noise in the studio with more six people and usually it's hard to work like that but we've been doing it together for years and we're able to cut through all the nice to get the sound it words we need. We usually work in teams to produce an album.

Diana had been having a good time from what I could see hanging around the studio and watching us work. Anytime I could fit in I took her to different places around L.A, mostly places to eat because that's all we had time for. She couldn't get over the fact I used to live here before I got married. It was so hard to move but I had to, Jay couldn't since she was in her residency. But someday we're moving back. I had Diana on lunch duty, so she could get out from the studio for a moment. She picked up our lunch when it was within walking distance. She didn't mind because she once ran into Luke James and hasn't stopped talking about it since. So she volunteers to get lunch now.

On Wednesday, everyone decided to go out for lunch. I let Diana go with them since Dre was going and I knew he would look out after her like I would. He's known her since she was seven. I stayed behind to finish a track we were working. It was just me in the studio and I was so into working I didn't hear someone enter.

"Jess! How are you?" Imani Redd walked into the room. She was wearing a bra and those shorts girls wear where their whole ass is out. She hadn't changed much since I had last seen her in person except her hair was now blonde. She still looked good. I got up from my chair.

"Hey Imani." I said.

She laughed and said "You don't have to be so formal. We good. You looking hella nice. You didn't dress like that when we were together." She gave me a tight hug.

"What's up?" I said sitting down again.

"I heard I would be working with you and just wanted to swing by and say hello. I know we didn't leave on the best terms-"

"Fucking understatement of century there." I said, crossing my arms.

"But I wanted to make sure we were cool and that you knew how very sorry I am for doing that to you. You didn't deserve that. I loved you, I really did. I hate that I screwed it up, especially for a guy that wasn't even worth it. Are we good?" She said walking toward my chair. She bent down in front of my chair, putting her hands on the armrests of the chair. I leaned back to get her breasts out my face.

"Cause if we're not, I'm sure I can make it up to you." She whispered in my ear. I started to sweat.

"Um, we're good, what's in the past is in the past, there's no need to bring ANY of it back up. I'm actually glad what happened, happened, I wouldn't have met my WIFE if it hadn't." I said, rolling my chair back. She turned around and like I figured, almost her entire ass was out. As she bent down in front of me to pick some imaginary object off the floor, I stared at the ceiling.

"That's too bad," she said, now standing over my legs, putting her hand on my shoulder. "Cause I love to make a man happy and I've only gotten better. Congrats on getting married, Jess. I'll see you later. And please let me know if you need anything." She slid her hand down my chest slightly brushing my crotch. Her hips swayed as she walked out the room. I let out the breath I was holding in. I wasn't scheduled to work with her until the last week I was here but I could already tell she was going to be a problem.

>>>>>>>>

It was past 2AM in the morning as we sat and talked in the studio. Diana had passed out on the couch. All the artists had gone home and it was just Dre, Green, J.D and me left still trying to finish some tracks. Admittedly we stopped working a while ago.

"So you used to bag Imani?" Green said. Green was a 35 year old white guy who slept with any girl who would sleep with him. He's been divorced five times, all for the same reason - infidelity. He was a terrible partner but a great somgwriter.

"I used to date her, yes."

"How was she?" Green asked. Green was also a pothead, and had a few edibles earlier. He was still as vile sober as he was high. I wouldn't let him eat them anywhere near the studio, since I had Diana with me. Usually I didn't care but she was staring to get better and she wasn't going to pick up bad habit now.

"You know I don't talk about women like that. Especially since I'm married. " I said.

"Hmm. Yeah you let your wife whip you. But I would love to get that Imani in the sack. She got it all."

"I'm not whipped." They all gave me a look.

"Y'all think I'm whipped? Trippin."

"Nah, man I hate to say it, but she got you wrapped around her finger. Ain't nothing wrong, that's your girl. But hell yeah you whipped." Dre said.

"I'm not fucking whipped."

"I bet you had to beg her to come here. Especially once she found out about Imani. " J.D said.

"We talked about it but I ain't got to beg for shit!"

"Yeah, okay man." J.D said.

"I'm not whipped!"

"What happened between you and Imani anyway?" J.D asked.

"She did him dirty as hell. Played his ass." Dre said.

"We were engaged and she was cheating on me for months. I only found out because I walked in on her with another guy."

"Damn. She really had you going."

"He really acting like she wasn't shady before that though." Dre said.

"How was I supposed to know?"

"This nigga really gon ask that? She used to "go away" for the weekend and have "late night recording sessions" and never could show him a demo. You know that this nigga right here wrote like seven songs for her? Almost her whole first damn album. She played the hell out of you. I even told your stupid ass that she was doing you wrong. And you ain't want to hear it." Dre said.

"I was young and in love." I said. When he put it like that I did sound stupid for not knowing she was using me.

"More like young and dumb as hell!" J.D said. They all laughed.

"And you had the nerve to be all depressed afterwards, acting like you ain't know she was no good. I got sick of your Mopey ass. I guess the sex was that good. But I got to say you married well." Dre said.

"I did, didn't I? Well it's not like you had it together either. Remember that girl who tried to claim that you were her deadbeat baby daddy?" I said.

"Oooooohhhhh. She was a fucking nightmare. Almost ruined my relationship." Dre said. J.D's jaw dropped. We had met J.D after we got out of college.

"Followed him around campus everywhere. Dressed the kid just like him. You've dated some crazy ones, don't play me like that!" I said.

"Look, I would cheat on my girlfriend just to hit that ass. Imani got that ass." Green said.

"We know." We all said at once.

"I would never cheat. My girl would kill me if she ever found out." J.D said.

"I never want to lose my wife again. Not again. " Dre said.

"You cheated on Eva?"

"Before we got married, we were engaged. Wasn't worth it, it was the worst mistake I ever made. I would never do that again. And Jess is too whipped to even think about cheating. " Dre said.

"Fuck you... But you right about that." I said as they laughed.

"I know what it's like to be cheated on, so I would never do that her." I said.

"But you got to admit that Imani is fine. You would hit that again if you were single. "

"I'm happily married."

"He didn't say no."

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

"So what are you trying to say with the hook because it's really confusing. Is the relationship worth saying or not?" I said to Jazmyne. We were finishing up one of her songs and the chorus just didn't flow right.

"What I'm trying to say is I don't know what I want from the relationship. I guess I could make that more clear."

"Yeah, I really want that point driven home in the chorus. You're stuck between two feelings and you just want something worth fighting for."

"Oh my God, that's it!"

"Let's try it." I picked up my guitar and started to strum the melody.

Baby I'm stuck in the middle,

Of this one single issue

Don't know what I'm saying

And you seem to think I'm playing

Not sure if I don't want your love

Cause it feels like it's from above

I'm sick of being ignored

I just want a love worth fighting for

Jazmyne sang.

"I love that! I like the switched melody, and I love that new line. You are a freaking genius!"

"Nah, you did all the work. You ready to lay the vocals down for real?" I said.

"Yes!" She went into the recording booth, a couple of takes on the chorus and she was done.

"How does it feel to have all of the tracks to your first album ?"

"I'm so freaking excited! This shit was lit. So what happens next?"

"You're going to pick your favorites, and the ones you don't want on the album. You'll play it for some executives on the label and they'll give you feedback, you skim the tracklist and songs down more, hopefully get it approved. And then work on the cover art. They'll give you a date and some promo, and your album will be released. There's a bunch of other bull in between that but that's really it."

"I'm so excited. Wow that's a lot. But I'm so happy with everything, thanks for your help. Can I listen to them all?"

"Sure, they'll be unfinished of course."

"Yeah, it's fine. Thanks." I handed her some headphones.

Alana was almost done with her album. Jazmyne was done with hers. Smoke however, had a lot more to be done.

Usually writing an album takes several months and it did for them. We were just here to polish the songs they had, write any ones they were missing, and really curate the style they were trying to have and finish the demo album.

It was my second week in L.A and it had been great so far. Last weekend I took Diana to Disneyland and we had a great time. She was such a good sport about being cooped up in a studio for so long I really wanted to do something special. It was Friday night and it was going to be another night spent at the studio.

My phone started vibrating on the control panel. I put down my guitar and looked at screen. Jaleia's face lit up. I answered, propped my phone up nearby and started to strum my guitar lightly.

"Hey Jess!"

"Hey Love, what's up?"

"I miss you. I'm sorry I keep saying it and calling you and-"

"I never get tired of you. Call me anytime."

"How's Di?"

"She's having fun, I'm sure she'll tell you allllllllll about it when we get home."

"I feel kinda stupid."

"Why?"

"I cried cause I missed you so much. The house is a mess, I've been late so much lately. I can't wait for you to come back."

"Aww, I'm sorry baby. It's only one more week. I miss you too."

"I know."

"Did you see all the organization tips I left you? I know it's hard for you to adjust your schedule suddenly. "

"One of the worst parts of ADHD I guess. Your wife's a mess. What's new?"

"Jay, you're not a mess, don't talk like that. What you up to tonight? You look cute." She had a low cut silky night shirt on.

"Um, I am having a sleepover with the girls. I finally convinced everyone. A quiet girls night. Movies, wine, snacks and shit. Should be fun. I'm really lonely, please come home soon."

"I'll be home real soon, alright."

"Oh and Jess? I found your present. And it's beautiful. I'm wearing it now. I always wanted a tennis bracelet! Now I get to brag about how great you are. When you get home, you will get the biggest thank you ever. Whatever you want. Trust me."

"I knew you'd like it. And I'm looking forward to that thank you."

"I have a little sneak peak of something I bought for you." She said and pulled her shorts down a little so I could see the top of her lace panties.

"You like these?" She said pulling her shorts back up.

"Hell yeah, you look sexy. I'm still on the studio Jay, so I gotta call you back. I love you, Jay?"

"Yeah?"

"I really miss you too. You're amazing and I love you! Have fun tonight."

"Love you too Jess! I'll talk to you later!"

#love and marriage #original story #original writing #writers on tumblr #black writers #black characters

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lannisterdaddyissues · 5 years ago

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The Last Kingdom High School AU - Chapter One

Hey y’all,,, so I finally decided to make this a thing after like 100 years! Anyone remember this post? It’s a thing now!! All my friends in the discord finally convinced me to share my writings with the world so here it is! This is going to be a multi-chapter fic, I will update it during the summer but I have a job so idk if updates will be regular. Anyway here is chapter one aaah!!

Chapter One

TLK High School AU

Word Count: 4.1k

“Oi! Arseling! Get your sorry arse to the principal’s office, now!” Leofric shouted as he slammed the gymnasium’s phone back onto its receiver. Uhtred’s classmates all turned to stare at him with round eyes, like a bunch of identical creepy owls. Uhtred hated those looks. He’d been getting them a lot in the past two years.

“Thank you for coming to see me, Uhtred,” the principal Odda greeted him, smoothing some papers out on his desk as Uhtred shuffled into his office. A steaming hot coffee mug sat to the side, untouched, and a bagel with a single bite mark in it lay on a napkin near the corner of his desk. “I wanted to talk to you about your behavior lately.” Uhtred blinked slowly but said nothing, leaving the ball in Odda’s court. Odda sighed. “You’ve been starting fights a lot lately in the past few months...the most recent one, three days ago, I believe, you sent my son home with a bloody nose and a black eye.”

“He called me names,” Uhtred said tonelessly, “And he’s an arsehole.” Odda grimaced and sucked air through his teeth. “See, Uhtred, that’s just more of what I’m talking about. You cannot just go around speaking like that to adults. You need to respect your elders. Otherwise, you’ll just keep getting in trouble and getting sent to detention. You know these are put on your permanent record.”

“...Fine.” Odda nodded, as though satisfied, and shuffled his papers. The reading glasses perched on the edge of his nose drooped a little and he pushed them back up towards his face.

“I also wanted to talk about your grades this semester.”

“What about them?” Uhtred stated more than inquired, hair falling over his shoulder as he tilted his head to the side. The old man never said anything of interest to him, just that he needed to stay on track if he wanted to be successful in life and that he had to watch his words in his essays. So what. He scanned the rest of the principal’s office nonchalantly, searching for an item to fixate on so he didn’t have to meet Odda’s eyes.

“They were just fine in your freshman year, perfectly average and acceptable for you to graduate, but halfway through your sophomore year they took a turn for the worse. Last year you failed both your English class and your maths class, barely passing your science class with a C-minus.”

“And what about it?” Uhtred repeated, twiddling his thumbs. His eyes alighted upon the globe in the back of the room on top of Odda’s filing cabinet and he exhaled deeply, wondering if he could get it to spin with his breath alone all the way from across the room. It didn’t move and he felt his mood blacken a bit more for no reason whatsoever.

“See here, Uhtred,” Odda said, leaning forward and turning the paper so he could see it, “you’ve got this red letter here. What letter is this?” Uhtred rolled his eyes.

“An F, sir,” he said, turning the honorific into more of a mocking title.

“Yes, I see, and do you know what happens when you fail your core classes, Uhtred?” There was a pointed gleam in Odda’s eye.

“What, sir?”

“It means you fail. You fail the entire year. And when you fail the entire year, do you know what that means, hmm? Let me tell you. You have to retake all of these classes.” Uhtred shot out of his chair, outraged. “I most certainly do not!” he shouted. “I’m not taking these bullshit courses again! I could pass these in my sleep, this is fucked up!”

“Life isn’t always fair, Uhtred,” Odda gave Uhtred another pointed look for his language and Uhtred sat down again, chastised. He sighed. “I know you‘ve had a tough time these past couple years.” Uhtred scoffed and whipped his head to the side.

That was a bit of an understatement, he thought. Uhtred had never known his birth parents. All he had ever known was his adoptive brother Ragnar’s father, who was also named Ragnar. He had grown up alongside Ragnar, Ragnar’s sister Thyra, and Brida, his best friend, and together the four of them were inseparable. Two years ago, Ragnar’s father had died in an accident, leaving Uhtred and his adoptive family to Kjartan, Ragnar’s uncle. Kjartan was neglectful and ignorant; he mostly left them to their own devices since he couldn’t be brought to care enough about them to hurt them. His son Sven was an abusive arseole whenever he visited, though.

“I don’t want your pity. It’s fine.”

“Since I know there are extenuating circumstances involved, I’ll give you an ultimatum,” Odda said. “I’ve asked a boy in your class to tutor you in all four of your core classes. He’s agreed to do it - don’t give me that look - in exchange for community service hours. You don’t have to pay him a dime.” The chair Uhtred was sitting in squeaked as he uncrossed his legs and recrossed them.

“And who am I tutoring with, sir?” Uhtred mocked, thinking his day couldn’t possibly get any worse.

“His name is Alfred Rex, I believe he’s in your class-”

Ohhhhhhhh, fuck that.

“No!” Uhtred yelled, “I am not working with that pain in my arse!” Odda gave him a pointed look over his reading glasses.

“I believe he’s in your class, and you should be grateful that he’s agreed to do this for so little. He’s the brightest student in the school. Surely you won’t be able to fail any of your classes with his help.” Taking a sip of his coffee, Odda leaned back in his chair, looking satisfied. Uhtred was glad one of them was.

“You must have missed the part where I said he was a pain in my arse,” Uhtred seethed, fingers itching to strangle the principal - and maybe a particular student - to death, “We absolutely hate each other! This will be a fucking disaster! He doesn’t want to teach me shit, he just wants to lord over me like he always has!”

“Now I am just disappointed in you. Alfred wants to help, truly he does! And he’s all you’ve got right now, so you’ll just have to suck it up and deal with it, won’t you?”

“How much time do I have to spend with him anyways?” he spat. Odda met his eyes over his reading glasses and pursed his lips.

“You’ll be tutoring with him four days a week. One day for language arts, one day for maths, one day for science, and one day for history. At the end of the week he’ll give you a report of your progress. Really, you should count yourself lucky that he’s taking so much time out of his busy schedule to tutor you.”

I have to spend four days out of every week with him?!

“That’s not going to work, no way, I can’t spend four days out of every week with him. Give me anybody else and I swear to whatever god you worship that I’ll do it. Not him.”

“Uhtred, I already told you,” Odda’s voice grew firm, “You can take it or leave it. You’re not getting tutoring from anyone but Alfred. This is the last straw.”

“Whatever,” Uhtred hissed, “I’m leaving, and I’m not getting any tutoring if it’s from him! Alfred can screw his perfect self as many times as he likes, see where that gets him.”

“Uhtred! Wait!” Odda called after him. Shutting the door to Odda’s office, Uhtred pulled a cigarette out of his backpack and lit it, ignoring the multiple shouts of his name that followed the trail of smoke he left down the hall.

Uhtred slammed the door to his car shut, seething as he aggressively turned the ignition key and cranked the volume on the radio up high. He plugged his phone into the charger cord and hit call on the pre-existing groupchat he had with his best friends, Finan Agil, Sihtric Elflaedsson - his name was actually Kjartanson, but he legally changed it a few years ago when he moved in with his mom - and Osferth Heahengel. “Hey,” Uhtred said as the line clicked and they all greeted him. Gym class with Coach Leofric had just ended, so they were still in the locker room changing their clothes.

“The hell was that all about earlier?” Finan asked on the other side of the line. “You get sent to the office again? What’d he tell you?” The others voiced similar questions.

“You want to know what he told me? I’m fucking failing my classes. I have to get a tutor. I have to see him four times a week. That’s bullshit!” Uhtred ranted. “I’m going to have to repeat a year if I can’t bring my grades up. This is by far the worst fucking shit that has happened to me, ever.” Feeling his temper worsen, Uhtred made a right turn far more violently than he normally did and grunted as the tires squealed.

“What the hell?!” Sihtric yelled on the other end of the line. “You have to get tutoring?! That sucks!” Uhtred nodded his agreement even though they couldn’t see him.

“Do you know who your tutor is?” asked Osferth. “Maybe you won’t actually mind them. I mean if they said yes, they can’t be that bad, can they?” Uhtred gave a mocking laugh.

“Oh, dear Osferth, why don’t you just go on and ask me who it is?” The line went silent for a moment as all the friends considered how bad the news was going to be, and then Osferth spoke again.

“Uh...who is it?”

“Oh, only Alfred fucking Rex, the hugest prick in our grade.”

“You’re fucking kidding me!” “You have to tutor with Alfred?!” “But you two hate each other’s guts!” They all exclaimed simultaneously.

That fucking bastard, Uhtred thought, I know he’s just doing this to get one over me. He’s always bossing me around and acting like he owns the entire school. I fucking hate pricks like him.

“That’s just the worst,” Sihtric said sympathetically. The sound of a door opening on the other side of the line roused Uhtred from his bitter thoughts. They must have finished changing and were now heading to their next classes.

“I know, but Odda doesn’t even care,” Uhtred spat, “He says this is all I get! I can’t believe his audacity! You and I both know that Alfred wants to boss me around and that’s that!”

“I don’t know, Uhtred, maybe give him a chance,” Finan said doubtfully, “At least you’ve got a tutor, and Alfred’s the smartest kid in the school. You’ve got an advantage here.”

“Well, whatever, I’m home now so I’ll talk to you guys later,” Uhtred said, pulling the phone away from his ear.

“Wait, you went home?!” Osferth exclaimed.

“Uhtred, you’re going to get caught. That’ll just be another detention for you. Maybe you should come back.” Uhtred turned the key in his car’s ignition and slid it into his pocket, ignoring Finan’s words.

“Right now, I couldn’t care less about detentions,” Uhtred said. “See you guys later.” Finan protested with a “wait, you bastard—!!”, but Sihtric and Osferth bid him goodbye and he hit the end call button with little remorse before shutting his car door and making his way to the front door.

“I’m home,” Uhtred called out as he shut the door behind him. A chorus of ‘hey’s greeted him and Uhtred left his bag on a chair before walking into the living room. Ragnar - Uhtred’s adoptive older brother - and his childhood-friend-turned-girlfriend Brida were cuddling together on the couch. Some movie Uhtred didn’t recognize was paused on the screen. “Uhtred, what are you doing home so early?” Ragnar frowned at him as he sat up and pushed the blanket off his legs. Uhtred exhaled deeply and plopped on the couch like a deadweight, causing Brida to shove him with her foot.

“Didn’t feel like staying at school,” he muttered. “Left after gym class.” Brida sat up at that and she exchanged a glance with Ragnar, looking concerned.

“Hey, well,” Ragnar began, “Speaking of school, I have something I need to talk to you about.” Uhtred frowned.

Gee, how could this day possibly get any worse? I can’t wait.

“The principal called us a couple days ago and told us that...you’re failing this year, Uhtred,” Ragnar said seriously. Brida nodded alongside him.

“He said you’re going to have to repeat a year if you can’t hack it,” she added. “So Ragnar talked to him and the principal arranged for you to get tutoring with—“

“—With Alfred,” Uhtred interrupted, balling his fists, “Yeah, I already fucking heard.” Ragnar’s eyes widened.

“Oh, fuck,” he said.

“Yeah, oh fuck! I can’t believe you! Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I could have said no sooner!” Ragnar shrugged and laid back against the couch, crossing his arms behind his head. “I forgot,” he said honestly, smirking.

“Are you kidding me?! You know how much I hate Alfred! Why are you laughing at this?!”

“I’m not,” he said, “Don’t know what you mean.”

“Ragnar, please, tell me there is another option besides getting tutoring from Alfred of all people,” Uhtred begged.

“Sorry, Uhtred, but there’s no negotiation on this one. You need to get out of this house and away from Kjartan. You can’t do that if you fail your last year of high school. You need to go to college and, well, your principal gave you a stellar opportunity. Besides, you guys have never really spent any time together outside of class. Maybe you could find some common ground and we can finally be free of your constant complaining.” Uhtred dug his nails into his palms.

“How,” he growled, “Could this possibly be a good thing? Stop acting like my dad, Ragnar, you’re only a year older than me. I thought you were on my side about him.”

“Is that what this is about, Uhtred? That you don’t need help?” Ragnar rounded his eyes pleadingly. “Come on, Uhtred, do it for your future. Not because I think you’re going to be some great brilliant fucking Einstein, but you need to get out of here. Don’t be like this. You’re doing it whether you like it or not. I will call Alfred and have him come to our house for tutoring. You can do this on your terms or on ours.” Uhtred growled and reached for his phone, standing up from the couch to head upstairs.

“Give him a chance,” Ragnar said again. “One chance.”

“Fine,” he hissed, “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it. I’m going to hate every fucking minute of this and you’re going to feel extremely guilty whenever you think about it!”

“Where do you think you’re going?! Your first session is at three,” Ragnar called after him. Uhtred just yelled in response and slammed his door shut, the little bells on his door handle jingling.

As he lay on his bed in his room, the door locked, Uhtred took the time to reflect about the day’s events so far.

Alfred Rex...he’s a total fucking prick.

Uhtred had met Alfred in his freshman year of high school. Alfred had gone to a different elementary and middle school than he had, but Winchester High was the only high school in the area. They’d immediately gotten off on the wrong foot and had been bitter enemies ever since. Uhtred thought Alfred was an officious, sickly, annoying pain in his arse and Alfred thought he was a stupid child that needed to be told what to do. Hate at first sight, truly.

Uhtred sighed. His sister Aethelflaed was so much nicer. She was a freshman, so he’d only met her this year, but he had no idea how the two of them were related. Aethelflaed was a social butterfly and tried to include everyone in everything she did, while Alfred was just a complete arseole. Dammit, why was he stuck with him?!

Growling, Uhtred threw his phone at the wall.

3:02 pm. He was past the point of no return. Pushing open the library doors reluctantly, Uhtred poked his head in, scanning the area. A couple of students he recognized were perusing the library’s faculties. Aldhelm Sawyer - an extremely tall brunet who had a bag of wet dicks for a personality - lounged on one of the couches with a science textbook propped on his lap, one leg crossed over the other. A pretty ginger girl whose name he thought was Eadith sat at a table by one of the windows across from a guy with dark hair; Eardwulf was his name, if Uhtred remembered correctly. Aethelflaed, Alfred’s younger sister, was using one of the computers. When he walked in, she turned around and smiled at him and he felt his heart flutter a bit. Something about her had that effect on people. On the other side of the room in the tutoring section, Odda - the principal’s little shit of a son - was giving a freshman tutoring session at one of the whiteboards. Alfred was nowhere in sight so Uhtred headed towards one of the open tables and plopped into a chair, checking his phone.

“You shouldn’t be on your phone if you’re here to learn,” a voice behind him said. Uhtred whipped around, hissing.

“What do you want,” he bit out, before thinking better of it when he recognized the owner of the voice as his tutor, Alfred. Alfred was...how did Uhtred describe him? He was tiny and slender, shorter than Uhtred by about half a foot. The first time they met, Uhtred mistook him for a twelve-year-old, even though they’d both been fourteen. His wispy brown hair fell just below his ears and he had a pair of bright blue eyes that were so intense they always made Uhtred feel uncomfortable, framed by a pair of silver wire lens glasses. In essence, he looked like a nerd, which was another reason why Uhtred hated him. Nerds were annoying.

Uhtred scoffed and pocketed his phone, leering up at Alfred balefully. “Whatever you say, Lord. I’m here for your blessings and guidance, so let’s get this started, shall we?” Alfred sat down and the two of them unpacked their belongings in silence.

“We’re going over English today, as per Odda’s suggestion, so why don’t you show me where you’re at?” Alfred asked, putting his chin in his palm.

“Yeah, go on, teach me stuff...English. I bet you’re fucking great at it.” Uhtred crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in his chair until the front legs were off the ground, hoping to provoke a reaction. He was disappointed; Alfred merely ignored his blatantly disrespectful behavior, instead ducking his head to flip through his English textbook.

“Feel free to disrespect me,” he murmured, “But rest assured that Principal Odda will hear about it, and my reports are extremely thorough. I don’t care what you say to me, but just know that it will reflect badly on you.”

Oh my gods, I fucking hate this guy so much!

“Yes, my Lord, I live only to serve you,” Uhtred snarked, clenching and unclenching his fists under the table. Leaning over, Uhtred pulled his folder out of his backpack and slid a paper out. “We’re reading Of Mice And Men. You might think that’s a bit below your skill set, but here you are.” Alfred snatched the paper from his hand, rolling his eyes.

“Don’t be facetious, Uhtred. Just shut up and let me read this. That’s what I’m here for, as you said.” Never having been one to follow orders, Uhtred opened his mouth to snark again, but Alfred snapped his fingers to grab his attention and glared at him.

“I said shut up. I’m reading,” he repeated, his eyes moving back and forth like the spool of a typewriter. After a couple of minutes, he set the paper flat on the table and bit his lip, looking a bit uncertain of what to do.

“Well, Lord? Does it meet your lofty expectations?”

“Can you not?” Alfred asked sharply, “And no, I’m sorry to say, it does not. What were you even trying to write? The subject of your analysis seems to jump to and fro. And while you are summarizing the story in your analysis, that’s all you’re doing. Summarizing. You’re not explaining why it’s important or what it means. Here, let me show you mine…”

“‘Bye, nerd,” Uhtred sneered, standing up and slinging his backpack over his shoulder. Alfred stood a bit more slowly, organizing all of his supplies into a neat pile before picking them all up and sliding them into his bookbag.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” Alfred inquired, not appearing bothered by the epithet apart from his clenched jaw. Good. “Make sure you incorporate what I told you today into your essay. I don’t want you to get a poor grade. And do keep in mind that I am reporting all of this to Principal Odda.”

Sure, whatever, Assfred! Feel free to slit your throat when you get home today! “...Yeah,” Uhtred said, before standing up and leaving without a word of thanks. Aethelflaed waved at him on his way out and he grinned back at her as he opened the doors.

“Welcome home, Uhtred,” Thyra greeted Uhtred as he stomped inside. The smell of spaghetti assaulted his senses and all of a sudden he felt much calmer than he had been a moment ago. “How was your first tutoring session?”

“Yeah, how was it?” Ragnar called from the living room, where he and Brida were cuddling yet again. The same movie as yesterday was paused on the TV and Uhtred had a feeling they hadn’t actually watched any of it and were just using it as an excuse to cuddle. A bowl of popcorn soaked in butter lay on Brida’s lap and the table was littered with empty beer cans, another in Ragnar’s hand.

“It fucking sucked. Alfred is even more of a bastard than I remember. Feel free to regret your decision completely,” Uhtred sniffed. Ragnar grimaced sympathetically.

“Is he seriously that bad?” he asked, snorting. “All I know about him is from your complaining.”

“He’s a fucking midget, but he tries to talk to me like he’s better than me! I fucking hate that, you know I do!” Uhtred threw his hands up. “He treats me like a stupid child and what’s more, he’s telling Odda everything that happens! Like some kind of probation officer! ‘Don’t disrespect me, Uhtred,’ ‘don’t use your phone when you’re supposed to be learning, Uhtred,’ ‘don’t breathe oxygen, Uhtred!’ He’s so annoying!”

“Sounds like a cunt,” Brida said.

“He is!!”

“Well, I’m sorry Uhtred, but if you want to pass your classes, your best bet is tutoring with him. You’re going to have to suck it up. Maybe you two just got off on the wrong foot,” he suggested, playing peacemaker.

“Not true,” Uhtred declared, “He just sucks at being a person.” He kicked Brida’s feet off the table so he could prop his own up and stole a popcorn kernel from her bowl. She flipped him off. “I’m just going to try to pass my classes this year and as soon as I do I’ll be totally done with him forever. Damn, that’ll be a good time.” Ragnar lifted his beer can in a toast.

“To the cunt who’s helping you pass your classes,” he said, and they echoed his toast as he downed his beer can and tossed it on the table.

“Ragnar, throw that empty beer can in the trash right now, you pig!” Thyra shouted from the kitchen. Ragnar shrugged and lazily kicked it onto the floor. “Ragnar!!” Giving Uhtred a ‘what-can-you-do’ expression, he stood up from the couch with a loud, obnoxious groan, plucking the beer can from the floor before lumbering to the kitchen.

“Hey, is dinner ready yet—”

“No! And stop asking, you animal, it’ll be ready when I say it is.”

“Geez, old woman, I was only asking, don’t hit me!”

Uhtred sat back against the couch and lifted the remote, clicking it until the TV changed to an acceptable channel. As the TV faded into background noise, he lifted his head to the ceiling and thought about what had happened that day.

Well, overall today sucked. I’m failing my classes and I’m getting tutored by Alfred, who’s a privileged arseole and also a complete tool. This whole year is going to be absolute bullshit with him around.

One chance, my arse. This year can’t end soon enough.

Art posts: @lauwrite1225‘s sketches of the high school!Coccham squad, @seaberrycloudberry‘s sketches of high school!Uhtred and Alfred, and @seaberrycloudberry‘s sketches of the characters in high school + sketches of Alfred, Aethelflaed, and Edward!!! THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH. THEY’RE PERFECT. Tagging @bellamehblake, @lonelyislanddaydreamer, @caleb-16charisma-widogast, @ucancallmechlo, @cocchamscrew, @myenglandmylove, @nightskyfangirl, @morganology, @tsukkinami @pokeasleepingsmaug here it is you guys!! I finally posted something!!!

#tlk #tlk uhtred #tlk alfred #tlk hs au #tlk high school au #my fics #fanfic #I HAVE NEVER PUBLISHED A FIC BEFORE IN MY LIFE AAAAAA #pls be gentle #my writing #:(#edited bc copy paste does NOT know what italics are???? apparently???

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alcego-writes · 4 years ago

Photo

July Goals

[X] Fix sleep schedule and re-establish daily routine.

[X] Finish outlining The Road That Follows (and post the magic building post).

July Stats™

Words Written: 100,319

Most Written in One Day: 19,812

Least Written in One Day: 0

July Notes

July was a fucking trip. I swear to god it was July 1 yesterday, yet here we are, three days into August.

Started a new medication to help with my insomnia, but alas... the meds really screwed me up. Even a quarter of a pill knocks me out for ~14 hours and makes me groggy and unfocused for the next few days. Definitely not continuing that one. I’ll take the sleepless nights lmao.

I genuinely don’t remember most of what happened this month. Partially because I was majorly fucked up for a few weeks, partially because it’s all blending together as I succumb to quarantine madness after five months in the house.

TBH, I feel pretty bad for not being active lately, but I just don’t have enough time and energy to keep posting as regularly as I’d like, let alone keep up with everyone’s work and respond to tags. Hell, I haven’t worked on TRTF at all this month, despite it being one of my primary goals! It’s all been work and sleep and brain fog.

That said! I think I’m getting a handle on things again, and I’m looking forward to re-establishing a sleep schedule (and scheduling weekends for personal projects so that I stop running myself into the ground). Finding that balance is rough, but I’m going to do it!

I forgot to keep track of my word count for almost a week straight, so a good deal of my writing data is estimated based on my work output and what I remember writing. Pretty sure I undershot my WC by a significant margin, but I don’t feel like back-tracing my WC. It is what it is and all that jazz.

August Goals

Re-establish and maintain routine.

Balance work, writing, and school.

I’m moving next week, so that’s going to be fun to work around...

Updates Tag List: @maxgraybooks @howdy-writes @ladywithalamp @violetcancerian @daltoneering (Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed!)

#updates #monthly writing update #aj's adventures in writing

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writernomore · 4 years ago

Text

Wake. Prolouge.

Quick A/n: Hello there I am back from the dead, I have decided to put onhold my ongoing stories and made another one called wake the one you’re about to start reading. You can get early updates in my wattpad .

Vivian MacQuoih or what they preferred to be called; Vinnie was a college student studying their major subjects that will allow them to work in a job in their prescribed setting and capable for the best of their abilities.

They had to move countries all alone on their own to a different country to study in Winston college, so their brother or you could say their twin brother took care of the house and helped their parents if needed be.

They would also be keeping in contact with their family as to not distance themselves with their family just because they were in a different country studying.

Anyways, Vinnie worked a job that helped paying their appartment rent each month and sent some money to their family- even though their brother Johan or JD told them not to and just said they should use it to buy something for themselves like clothes or a little treat.

Thinking back now they stare down at the clothes they wore, a hoodie and shorts that they always wore when their in closed doors because it was like a safe haven from all things bad and anything that disrupted their peace.

They needed it to be honest, running around with a bunch of homework in hand and some cardboard cartolinas they had to stuff in their backpack to write down a report they wrote down and write it with black markers and cut excess paper from the pictures they printed yesterday.

They never really thought about not making a powerpoint and lived to regret it now since making a powerpoint was easier since it was basically copy and paste, do research and just paste in the important bits because noone has time to read it all and it was easier as well since it would all be in their laptop.

Reaching in to the popcorn bowl they looked back up to the T.V and continued watching their movie, it was the weekend and thankfully their brother had sent them the full dvd cds of the Harry Potter movies along with some of their favorite snacks that their brother had miraculously remembered and along with some pictures of him and their parents.

Vinnie put them on their wall clipped onto a string along with different pictures they brought from home or pictures their brother had sent to them thinking they would miss home very much.

They were watching the 3rd movie Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, they weren't able to focus on the movie properly because they kept on losing track and paused the movie first to rack their brain if their forgetting for something, silently they pulled their phone out and checked their notes if they had forgotten to do something, and it seemed they had forgotten to write an essay.

"My gut feeling is always there to help me thankfully." they said to themself in a quiet tone.

They stood up and brushed off anything from their shorts and went to go to their room to get their notebook and pen to start writing an essay, the essay was about Books about fantasies and Action and write down if their beneficial and why.

The teacher from their Homeroom subject was very curious on the books they read and asked what kind of books some of the students answered Adventure, Action and Fantasy.

And the Teacher decided to ask the class to make an essay about Fantasy and Action.

Vinnie was getting tired so they just decided to resume the 3rd movie tomorrow since it was the weekend and they didn't want to mess with their healthy sleep schedule even though it was a tempting offer when all they wanted to do was just watch Harry Potter all night and probably go back to tumblr and binge the fanfics in the Harry Potter x reader tag, they weren't much biased towards the characters and read fanfics with any character they could think of because it gave off such feelings they long craved for.

But if someone were to ask who their favorite really was they would answer with the name; Viktor Krum.

He was one of the really nice characters, He was seen as scary and intimidating towards his other peers but when he was Hermione during the Yule ball they would've melted if they were Hermione and it was just absolutely cute when he asked for Hermione to write to him!

He didn't love Hermione for her body, It was her smarts, kindness and beauty.

They really grew high standards because of fictional men but they didn't really need to find the perfect partner, they just wanted someone who they could love and someone who would accept them just as they are and love them as they are.

They longed for someone like that, someone who would understand.

They snapped back to reality and realized they just finished their essay, they scanned it twice before closing the notebook and returned the notebook and pen.

They went back to the livingroom and cleaned up their mess and popped out the Cd and place it back in it's case carefully.

They turned off the T.V and closed the light in their livingroom they walked to their room and plugged their phone into the charger before going to the bathroom they went to their closet and took out a white tank top and long blue pajama wear.

Going over to the bathroom they opened the lights and went to undress and brush their teeth.

They checked if their alarm was set to wake them up early in the morning in case they would forget again and stay in bed late.

They pulled back the covers and layed in bed trapping themself in a little warm cocoon underneath their comforters.

They always had a little trouble in sleeping so they just stared at the ceiling but since it's been a few minutes now and it's getting them nowhere they threw back the comforters and walked over to the livingroom to just continue watching the 3rd movie.

'Screw sleep then' they thought as they watched all the Triwizard contestants dive down in the water.

Ever since the first movies had released they longed to be like one of the characters and to be apart of all their adventures.

So Harry Potter was like a big part of their life that helped them through thick and thin dressing up as wizards with their friends and waving the wands Vinnie and their friends made on their own, begging their parents to get an owl thinking they'll get their letter soon from Hogwarts.

Their eyelids getting heavy they slowly lied down on the couch and fell asleep.

........

They opened their eyes and was in a black void, looking down it was like there was water on the floor but it didn't feel like it since there wasn't this wet feeling beneath their feet.

They started to walk around the void, they know well they won't be able to get anywhere but they tried anyways to see it would get them anywhere.

"Hello." They jumped in surprise and turned around to be face to face with...a boy?

"Uh...Hi?" "You aren't much of a talker hm?" The boy- nah Entity said smirking down at Vinnie.

The entity stood up straight to it's full height.

Damn...And they thought they were tall being 5'11 but they just encountered people the same age and height as them since they don't go out to much at crowded places.

They didn't like crowded places that much...

"Hey!" The entity snaps their fingers infront of Vinnie's face, shaking their head they stared back up to the entity infront of them.

Now that you think of it, the entity has long jet black hair tied into a loose braid and eyes red like rubies he wore a seemingly majestic like outfit, white fabric and lined with gold and a cape designed to replicate the galaxy to top it all off.

Vinnie took a step back look at the man more with furrowed eyebrows.

'Stranger danger' They thought to themselves and tried looking around "Don't worry I'm not here to hurt you." The entity says looking back at them they had their hands up in surrender and eyes closed.

Opening their eyes there was this aura that surrounded them as they stared at Vinnie's soul with such malice "Atleast....not yet.." The entity erupted in dark laughter as it sent chills to Vinnie's spine as they took another step back and wrapped their arms around themself as in to protect themself or atleast in a sense of comfort.

"Why...Why am I here then?" they said to the Entity.

The entity crossed their arms and put a hand to their chin as if pretending to be in thought then looked directly at Vinnie and said "I don't know what do you think...Vivian." Vinnie stilled and stared at the entity with furrowed eyebrows and narrowed eyes "Don't call me that." they said with gritted teeth.

"Oh? Did I struck a nerve Vivian?" The entity once again started chuckling at their reaction.

"That name's dead." They glared at the entity.

"Hm...alright then.." The entity crossed their arms over their chest and sighed.

"Can we just cut to the chase?" Vinnie huffed and crossed their arms and looked away at the entity.

"Aren't you a snappy one." Entity chuckled.

The Entity snapped their fingers and they were floating on mid air, Vinnie made a surprised yelp and all the entity could do was chuckle and shake their head 'This one's going to be much more interesting than the others'.

The entity snapped their fingers again and Vinnie began falling, they screamed at them "Weird entity!" " It's Calcifer!" The entity just stared down as they fell with a horrified expression on their face, They looked down at Vinnie and smiled and waved at them.

As Vinnie was closing in with the hard ground....

They woke up.

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

This is what he have for now!

So how’d you guys like the prolouge I am not very good in writing but I know some stuff with what I shouldn’t and should do.

Anyways, Calcifer is just a dick here.

If you want more content like this. Consider giving me a follow;)

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semperama · 5 years ago

Note

Verbs: 4, Pinto!

I apologize, this got a little too long, and I probably should have posted it to AO3 instead, but I’m too lazy to think of a title and all that jazz right now. So hopefully it isn’t too much of a pain to read here!

pinto, convalesce

"So how many 'break a leg' jokes have you heard in the past few days?" Zach asks as he follows Chris into the house, close on his heels in case he trips. He wanted to rent a wheelchair to bring Chris home in, but of course Chris wouldn't hear of it. He always seems to think he has something to prove, even when sporting a cast that extends from foot to thigh and a bulky boot to go with it.

"I lost count," Chris says, leaning for a moment against the wall in the foyer and looking over his shoulder at Zach. "But you know what? I didn't mind it."

"You do love a corny joke." Zach drops Chris's duffel on the floor, then goes to his side, hands hovering in the air as he tries to decide how best to help. "Not sure what that says about your sense of humor. Alright. Too bed now, right?"

"The couch?" Chris says, turning wide, pleading eyes Zach's direction. "I've been laying in bed for days. I don't want to shut myself away in the bedroom until I have to."

Zach purses his lips, but he can't think of a good reason to refuse him. "Fine," he says, "but you aren't going to go hobbling around the house every time you want something. Once you're on the couch, your ass is staying��on the couch."

Chris doesn't argue now, but Zach guesses there will be arguments later. And really, it's not like Zach blames him. He can imagine how frustrating it must be to have your mobility limited, to need someone else to take care of you. Chris has always been independent. He doesn't like relying on others--not for anything. Even as Zach leads him to the couch and helps him prop up his leg on a stack of pillows, he wonders how much Chris is bristling at him, how much he wishes Zach would just go away.

Still, Zach has to ask, "What can I get you?"

Chris sighs. "Water, I guess. And hand me the remotes? They're over there next to the TV."

Zach knows where the remotes are. He knows where everything in this house is, and he knew it long before he moved in two months ago. But Chris is still adjusting--they both are--and this whole mess with his leg has only thrown a wrench in things, so Zach lets this one slide and goes to retrieve the remotes.

On the way back from the kitchen with Chris's water, he digs two prescription bottles out of the duffel. Painkillers and antibiotics, both of which need to be taken on a regular schedule. One more thing for Zach to keep track of, and one more thing for Chris to potentially resent him for. Maybe it would be easier if he set alarms on Chris's phone, so he isn't bugging Chris himself, but even that feels like it might be too invasive.

"Here," he says as he sets the water down close enough for Chris to reach it. "And here are your meds. You're about due for more oxy now, if you want."

Chris waves him away absently, his eyes fixed on the TV screen as he flips through the channels. "That stuff makes me feel awful. The doctor said I could switch to ibuprofen whenever."

Zach sighs. Chris has three pins in his leg, but trust him to try to play the tough guy now. Who doesn't want to take the good shit when they have it? But he bites his tongue. "Do you want ibuprofen now then?"

"Nah, I'm good. I'll wait until dinner."

Nodding, Zach looks from Chris to the TV to Chris again. What is he supposed to do now? How is he supposed to help? "I guess I'll go start a load of laundry then. Mind if I get your clothes out of the bag?"

Chris looks at him then, eyebrows pinching together. "You don't have to do that. I can wash them later."

"Chris." Zach throws up his hands. "How are you going to do that, huh?"

"Right." The troughs in his forehead deepen. "Okay. Sorry."

Sorry? Zach frowns, but he finds he isn't in the mood to unpack all that baggage in that one word now, so he goes to unpack the physical baggage instead. It's a relief, in some ways, to go through the motions of sorting the clothes in the hamper and tossing them into the washer. He feels far more useful now than he did hovering over Chris in the living room, or back at the hospital, where friends and family came and went and all Zach could do was sit and watch Chris's pale face for signs of fatigue. He thought he was going to cry when Chris's dad offered to have him come stay with them while he was recovering, but luckily Chris shut that one down quickly. But was it because he trusted Zach to take care of him, or because he didn't want to put his family out? Is he only putting up with Zach now because he has to?

Zach realizes he's spiraling and takes a deep breath to rein himself in. This is all too new. He moved in with Chris just a couple weeks before filming on the new Star Trek started, and though it seemed like a good idea at the time, it's been a big adjustment. Going from a long-distance relationship to a live-in one--plus filming twelve-plus hours a day--hasn't been easy on either of them, and Chris's injury has made things that much more awkward. Now he knows Chris feels guilty for delaying production and guilty that Zach almost took the poor stunt coordinator's head off after the fact and guilty that he screwed up the stunt in the first place. And what's Zach supposed to do with all that? He can't fix Chris's leg and he can't fix all the emotional shit surrounding it either, so all he's good for now is fetching Chris water and making him feel uncomfortable in his own damn house.

Back in the living room, Chris is still scrolling through the channels, though his eyes look unfocused, like he might not really be paying attention to what he's seeing. Zach wishes they hadn't taken the dogs over to Mark's. Maybe if they were here, they would cheer Chris up better than Zach can.

"Hey," Zach says, leaning against the door frame and offering a tentative smile. They used to be able to communicate so much to each other with just smiles, and Zach has no idea what he may be communicating now, but he hopes it's something. He hopes Chris can still read him like this.

Chris clicks the TV off again and tosses the remote on the coffee table, and only then does he look up at Zach's face. "Hey," he says wearily. Then, after a double-take, he stretches out his hand. "Hey," he says again, softer. "Come here."

Zach goes to him and slips his fingers into Chris's, a hopeful nervousness unfurling in his chest. Before he can protest, Chris tugs at him and sends him sprawling into his lap. He only barely manages to catch himself and avoid falling against Chris's injured leg.

"Careful!" Zach digs his fingers into Chris's shoulders. "They'll have us both killed if you reinjure that leg, you moron."

"Relax," Chris says, offering up the first real smile Zach has seen in days, then hiding it in Zach's neck. "I mean it. You need to relax. You're acting like I'm on my deathbed."

"I'm not--" Zach huffs and tries to rearrange himself, get some of his weight off Chris's stomach. "It's not that. I know you're going to be fine."

"Then what is it?" Chris reaches up and brushes a few strands of hair off Zach's forehead. And God, Zach loves it when he does that. He used to be so neurotic about his hair, would duck instinctively out of the way whenever anyone reached for it, but something about Chris doing it, the intimacy of it--it makes his stomach flip over every time.

"This isn't exactly how I thought living together would go," Zach says, and then it's his turn to hide his face, pressing his mouth against Chris's temple. He still smells like hospital, but he doubts either of them want to think about the work it'll take to get him in the shower right now. "Doesn't this feel like...I don't know, some kind of bad omen?"

"Bad omen? Jesus." Chris chuckles and snatches up one of Zach's hands, brings it up to his mouth and kisses the edge of his palm. "Look, I know I've been really fucking cranky. We were both sleep-deprived even before all of this, and now I feel like I've let everybody down, and I hate being..." He gestures down the length of his body. "Helpless."

"Yeah, I know," Zach says, because he does. Of course he does.

"But none of that has anything to do with you and me," Chris says. "There are no bad omens, Zach. Only bad luck."

He turns his head to the side and captures Zach's mouth--a quick peck first, then a harder one, the kind that has them both drawing an anticipatory breath. Not that they have anything to anticipate at the moment. Chris is out of commission in every possible way.

"I just don't want you to regret this," Zach says when they break apart. He is painfully aware of how it sounds--almost childishly needy, not at all like a man who's spent most of his adult life in therapy for his abandonment issues.

Luckily for him, Chris only grin at him and shakes his head. "The only thing I regret right now is not asking you to move in with me sooner." He rubs his thumb across Zach's bottom lip. "We shouldn't have had to spend the first months of our relationship to tired or too--injured to fuck."

Zach barks out a laugh at that and swats Chris on the stomach. "One-track mind," he admonishes.

Chris's eyes sparkle, even as the smile fades from his lips. "But seriously, do you think I don't worry about the same thing? Don't you know all I can think about is how unfair it is that you'll have to wait on me hand and foot for the next few weeks?"

"But I'm happy to do it, Chris," Zach says, brushing his fingers across Chris's cheekbone. "I'd do it even if you weren't bedridden, if you wanted me to."

Chris crinkles his nose. "Yeah, no. That sounds like a nightmare."

"Why's that?" Zach tries not to sound too hurt.

"Because I want a partner, Zach." Before Zach can argue, Chris puts a finger to his lips. "And yes, I'm aware that partners sometimes have to take care of each other, which is why I'm going to try to get over myself and let you take care of me and not be grumpy about it." He presses a loud, smacking kiss to Zach's cheek. "But in return you have to stop acting like you have to earn your right to be here, okay?"

That sentence has another ten years of therapy packed into it, but Zach pushes it away for now and focuses on the important part: that Chris wants him here, and not just for what Zach can do for him.

"Deal," Zach says, and presses his mouth Chris's temple again. He'll do his best, anyway--which is all either of them can do. It helps, at least, that their issues are complementary.

"Good." Chris kisses him on the mouth. "Now get me my phone, so I can order us burritos, because you are not cooking. And then you are going to sit here with me and watch a dumb action movie. And then--and then we can figure out how I'm going to shower with this thing on."

His mouth twists on that last part, and Zach can't help but smile. He scratches his fingers along Chris's scalp and then gives the back of his neck a gentle squeeze. "Maybe I can make the shower part worth your while," he says, brushing his mouth against Chris's jaw. "Provided it's safe enough, that is."

"Hmm," Chris hums, clutching the back of Zach's head to keep him there. "In that case, maybe we'll do the shower first."

#wordplay as foreplay #pinto #my writing #ficlet #suedescripture

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mitchmarnier · 5 years ago

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hitched

pairing: eddie kaspbrak/richie tozier [reddie] word count: 3,721 chapter count: 1 of 3 summary: Eddie wrapped his arms around Richie’s middle and buried his face into Richie’s neck. Richie startled for a moment, before wrapping his arms around Eddie and pulling him closer. “Damn, Eds.” Richie said, not understanding why his voice came out so hoarse all of a sudden. “Been a long time since I got a Kaspbrak hug.” warnings: alcohol consumption, airplane anxiety,

read on ao3

Richie pulled the blanket firmer around himself. He tried to sink further into his mattress, hoping it would swallow him whole and drag him right down into the under world. It had been almost three weeks since Sandy had packed up all her belongings, and taken off while Richie had been at work. There had been a letter stuck up to his fridge, a letter that Richie had read over a hundred times, until Stan had stolen it from him and ripped it up in hopes that it would get Richie out of the funk. It had only made it worse. Richie simply went to work, and went home. Curled up in bed. Listened to his sad hours playlist on Spotify on a loop.

Richie’s bedroom door swung open, prompting Richie to tense up under his blankets. If he stayed still enough, maybe whoever had decided to interrupt him would think he wasn’t there. Or that he’d died and deserved to be left in peace.

“Get up you piece of shit.” Eddie Kaspbrak‘s voice rang through the room and Richie knew he was screwed. Eddie was the Losers last line of defense. If Eddie was here, it meant that they’d exhausted all other options to get Richie from this apartment. “You need to stop moping around, get up. You still have to live your life. And it’s the 3rd.”

“Yeah?” Richie mumbled into his pillow, pulling his legs closer to his chest. “What about it?”

Eddie grabbed Richie’s comforter and yanked it off, tossing it aside. “Tozier.” Eddie looked up and down Richie’s body on the bed. Richie knew there was garbage around him from the occasional take out he’d get when he found the urge to eat, and that the sheets were probably dirty. Eddie crinkled his nose up in disgust, before sighing and his face softening. “Rich, you gotta get up. This isn’t healthy.”

“Leave me here to die.” Richie said, flopping away from Eddie. He and Eddie were close, had always been close. They’d maybe grown a bit apart in the last few years, since college had ended and they’d been tossed into their adult lives. Distance, schedules... Richie didn’t seem much of Eddie anymore.

“I’ve been begging the others to let me in here for weeks.” Eddie said, dropping down on the bed by Richie’s curled up form. “I wanted to come but they kept saying you’d snap out of it on your own. But that’s clearly not true, so I’m here to make sure you don’t miss this weekend. Because I know that you’re going to regret it if you don’t go.”

“What’s this weekend?” Richie asked, keeping his eyes closed. He wished Eddie would just let him sleep. Richie liked sleeping.

Eddie groaned. “Richie, are you serious? It’s Stan’s bachelor party this weekend. We’re leaving for our Vegas flight in less than four hours. I am not letting you miss this.”

Richie blinked hard, forcing himself to sit up and rub at his eyes. “Stan’s bachelor party? That isn’t until...” Richie frowned, swaying a little bit than groaning. “It is August, isn’t it? Fuck. Okay. I’m getting up. But you need to help me pack.”

“I think that’s half the reason Beverly made me come instead of going herself.” Eddie laughed, then crinkled his nose at Richie’s bed. “Get up and take a shower for the love of God. I can do the packing. I’ll do it better than you anyway.”

Richie couldn’t argue with that, so he got out of bed and slumped down the hall to his bathroom. He kept his eyes closed and the light off through the whole shower, forcing himself not to think about all the showers he’d shared with Sandy.

Finishing up, maybe taking a longer than usual because once he got in there he realized he really was disgusting, and he was toweling off his hair when he got back into his bedroom. He smiled at Eddie, getting a warm smile back. “Thanks for coming, Eds. I really would’ve hated myself if I missed this.”

“Don’t call me Eds, Richard.” Eddie said, but he was still smiling. “If I ask you how you are, are you going to crawl back into bed?”

Richie laughed, moving towards the comfy looking clothes that Eddie had clearly set out for Richie to wear on the plane. He shook his head. “I probably would, if I didn’t feel clean for the first time in weeks and I know how nasty my bed is right now.”

Eddie glanced at it, giving it a dirty, offended look. “Yeah. It’s gross even for you.” He replied. “So. How are you doing? I mean, not good obviously, that’s stupid but- are you gonna be okay?”

Richie sighed, glancing around his room and at his big Queen sized bed. At all the empty space that had once been Sandy’s stuff. “I think I need to get a new place. Everything here reminds me of her. It’s killing me.”

“I think that’s a great idea!” Eddie said enthusiastically. “You know, you can move in with me, if you wanted. I have the extra bedroom, and it would be nice to split on rent.”

Richie raised his eyebrows, slipping into his sweats and ruffling up his wet hair. “And is Martin going to like that?”

Martin was a guy who Eddie had been seeing for the last few months. He’d seemed pretty stuck up, a little pretentious and he’d been pretty clear (at least as far as Richie could tell), that he didn’t like Richie. Richie wasn’t sure how serious it was between Eddie and Martin, and Richie himself wasn’t a fan the guy, but he was a fan of Eddie Kaspbrak and anything that made Eddie happy.

Eddie rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I don’t care.” Eddie said firmly. “He isn’t the boss of me. If I want to live with you, I’ll live with you. Especially if it means it’ll help you out of a bad place.”

Richie smiled blandly, nodding his head. “We can talk about it after we get back from the trip, yeah? This weekend is about Stan the Man, not me.”

Eddie laughed and nodded. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure Bill has Stan tried up in his trunk to get him here.”

Richie chuckled, pulling his NYU hoodie over his head. He stepped closer to Eddie and shook out his hair again, making sure to stand close to Eddie and let the ends of his curls get him wet. Eddie gave a shout and shoved Richie away, groaning with a smile. Richie didn’t get a chance to stumble very far, Eddie’s hand catching his wrist and tugging him in.

Eddie wrapped his arms around Richie’s middle and buried his face into Richie’s neck. Richie startled for a moment, before wrapping his arms around Eddie and pulling him closer. “Damn, Eds.” Richie said, not understanding why his voice came out so hoarse all of a sudden. “Been a long time since I got a Kaspbrak hug.”

“I’ve missed you.” Eddie mumbled into Richie’s shoulder, letting out a little sigh. He squeezed Richie’s waist. “And I’m worried about you.”

Eddie says the second part quieter, in a way that Richie probably wouldn’t have heard it if he and Eddie hadn’t been standing right up against him. Richie rubbed Eddie’s back and smiled softly where he couldn’t be seen. “We can talk about it later, okay? We need to get going, right?”

Eddie pulled back and gave Richie a sad smile. He knew they weren’t going to talk about it. Eddie just shrugged and pulled back, wall going up. Richie groaned internally, standing their behind his own walls. That had been the problem with Eddie and Richie in the first place, wasn’t it? The damn walls. As Richie opened his mouth to say anything to Eddie to track them back, Eddie was tossing Richie his suitcase and walking out of Richie’s room.

Richie kicked at his bed, not completely sure why he was feeling so bothered. Well, no, he knew. Lately he’d been so caught up in his post-Sandy misery, he’d forgotten what had been bothering him for so long before. He missed Eddie, missed the easy relationship they’d always had. Sometime in last year or so, the simple ease between them had broken down to grind that left Richie feeling on edge and uneasy. Richie sort of felt like he’d lost an arm, unbalanced and uncomfortable.

When he got out his apartment, any chance of talking to Eddie was dashed when he saw Eddie talking to Ben and Bev. Forcing a smile, Richie let himself get hugged by his friends and dodged questions on whether or not he was okay. Eddie patted Richie on the shoulder, taking Richie’s stuff and tossing it into back seat. “Let Richie alone.” Eddie said without giving Bev or Ben a spare look. “If he wants to talk about it, he will.“

“Well, that’s just a lie.” Beverly said, shooting Ben an amused smirk. Richie smiled at Eddie, the pair of them climbing into the back seat while Ben started up the car. There were nervous lines at the corner of Eddie’s eyes and Richie sighed. Eddie had always been uncomfortable with flying, even though he’d never actually told anybody, and Richie felt a little pang of affection in his chest.

Richie wrapped a hand around Eddie’s wrist and squeezed. Eddie looked at him, frowning. Richie squeezed once again and then gave Eddie half a smile. Eddie’s cheeks turned a lighter shade of pink, and he looked away to stare out the window. His hand came down on top of Richie’s, stopping him when it felt like Richie might pull his away.

They arrived just before their boarding time, something Eddie complained loudly about as they got ushered onto their plane. They barely had time Richie took a look at his ticket and frowned, jumping through the aisle towards Beverly, wrapping his hands around her wrist.

“Switch seats with me.” Richie said quickly, staring Beverly in the eyes. Beverly frowned at him before glancing over her shoulder and seeing Eddie settling into the seat beside her.

Beverly immediately frowned and turned back to him with disappointment and concern written all over her face. Richie was groaning before she even spoke up. “Richie, don’t do this to yourself.” She said. “You’re still healing from Sandy, and reverting backwards isn’t going to-”

Richie held his hands up and started shaking his head. “It’s not that, okay? I’m way way over that. This is.. this is something else, okay? Just... fucking switch me.”

Beverly rolled her eyes, and grabbed her things before shuffling over to take the seat next to Bill. Bill looked over to where Richie was dropping down beside Eddie, and gave him a sad look.

Eddie looked confused as Richie settled in beside him, brow furrowing. “You mean I have to spend the next five hours stuck next to you? This flight is cursed. It’s going down.” Eddie said but Richie watched the panic flash behind Eddie’s eyes.

The pilot came over the speaker and started giving the usual boring explanation of plane ride expectations. The year before when Richie had been living in New York, and Sandy was still back in California, he’d done an inhuman about flying between states. But Eddie’s face paled and his jaw clenched as the plane starting to kick up.

Richie held his hand out, palm up as an offer. He didn’t take it himself, just left it there for Eddie if he wanted it. Eddie didn’t even hesitate before grasping the offered comfort and squeezing so hard it hurt. Richie questioned for a moment that maybe Eddie was going to break his fingers as the plane starting through turbulence, but Eddie’s grip loosened as the plane started to steady out.

“Thanks.” Eddie breathed out, cheeks a little pink. He didn’t let go of Richie’s hand. Richie’s hand was quickly getting too hot but he didn’t want to let go. This was longest he’d stayed in contact with somebody in weeks, and Richie didn’t want to loose it. He knew Beverly would be watching them like crazy right now, but he just couldn’t be bothered to care what she thought. He knew what this was, and he knew why he’d sat down next to Eddie.

Eddie and Richie kept their hands tangled together, while they started a simple conversation. Easy, nothing important. None of the things Richie knew that Eddie wanted to ask him about. Eddie had always been reading when a place wasn’t right for a serious conversation, so long as Eddie isn’t pissed beforehand.

Eventually, Eddie’s head lolls down onto Richie’s shoulder and his eyes flutter shut. “Mmm...�� Eddie hummed, nuzzling closer to Richie. “Sleepy. Can I sleep here?”

“Yeah,” Richie grunted, throat feeling a little tight. He told himself that it was just missing the closeness that he’d lost so suddenly. It had been ages since somebody had snuggled up against him. It was nice. “Course, Eds.”

Eddie mumbled something into Richie’s neck that might have- probably had been- don’t call me Eds, but he seemed to zoink out almost immediately. Richie looked down at Eddie, noticing now the dark circles under his eyes and seemingly paler than usual skin and felt a sad pang in his chest. He’d really been neglecting his friendships lately, and that had to change.

Eddie slept straight through the rest of the ride, head on Richie’s shoulder and hand half-limp hand resting in Richie’s, until the plane started to descent and Eddie woke with a start. His hand immediately tightened in Richie’s and he wheezed. Richie rubbed his thumb along Eddie’s palm in an attempt to calm him.

“It’s fine,” Richie whispered to him. “We’re going to be landing soon, is all.”

“God, I don’t know how you did this so much for that bitch.” Eddie spoke through a clenched jaw and Richie bristled, but decided to let that one slide. It wasn’t the first time that Eddie had let slip some sort of sign that he hadn’t liked Sandy; it had come out more than a few times in their three year relationship. Richie had always tried not to let it bother him, but he knew that it had forced him and Eddie apart.

Eddie had been groggy as they stumbled off the plane and into the airport. The rest of the Losers chatted up a storm, finally having the reunion that they’d been robbed off back at the New York airport. Eddie didn’t say much, leaning up against Richie as they walked through the airport. They weren’t holding hands anymore, but their bodies pressed together where they stood together.

Stan was glaring at him. That usual look of when Stan wants to lecture Richie on being an idiot, but wasn’t going to at the moment. Richie made a mental note to prepare himself for it later, and enjoy being pressed up against a sleepy Eddie now.

The cab ride to their casino hotel was chaotic, everybody speaking over each other and nobody getting any information. Something about Ben getting a promotion, maybe Mike seeing a new girl. Richie wasn’t sure because Eddie was scrolling through his phone, frowning, and Richie was starting to feel worried. As they’d gotten to their casino, Eddie held a finger up and pushed his phone towards his ear. “Sorry, I have a bunch of missed calls and texts from Martin, I need to give him a text and make sure everything is okay.”

Richie hadn’t wanted to eavesdrop, he really hadn’t. Eddie just hadn’t really moved away from him so he could hear everything, if he tuned his ear to Eddie’s voice and ignored everybody else’s chattering.

“Hey, baby! You called?” Eddie’s cheerful tone didn’t match the bored expression on his face. “I was on the plane... No, I didn’t get them, I was on the plane... You can’t have your phone on during the plane! No, you can’t. Martin. Come on, are we going to really fight about this right now?” Eddie pinched the brim of his nose, shaking his head slowly. “We just got to the hotel... yes, he’s here.... baby...”

Eddie eyed Richie awkwardly, then shuffled away so that Richie couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation. Richie’s stomach dropped and wrapped his arms around himself, moving closer to the group of his friends at the front check-in.

Stan immediately zooned in on him, narrowing his eyes. He grabbed keys from the counter and walked over to him. “Do I need to say it?”

Richie let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “No. You don’t need to say anything.”

Stan nodded, dropping a key into Richie’s hand. “Good. Best man gets his own room.”

Richie beamed and smacked a wet kiss to Stan’s cheek. Stan groaned and wiped it away, but he was chuckling. “Now I normally don’t encourage this sort of behaviour, but maybe you should bring somebody back with you. Get yourself.... going?”

Richie laughed, covering his face. “Stanley, shut up man. You have no idea what you’re talking about, do you?”

Stan shook his head. “Absolutely none. But I need you to be okay again and I don’t really know how to do that so-”

“Working on it, Stan.” Richie nodded, clasping Stan on the shoulder. “Promise promise.”

Eddie stumbled up, looking a little red eyed. “Who am I rooming with?” Eddie asked before anybody had the chance to ask him if he was okay. Richie shuffled slightly closer to him, before feeling Stan’s hand grab his arm and tug him back.

“Bill.” Stan said sharply at the same time Bill responded with a “me.”

Eddie groaned loudly, looking slightly moments away from stomping his feet. “No. Come on. You know what Bill is like when he’s drunk!” Eddie turned to Richie, pouting. “Can I stay with you?”

“Sur-” Richie started before Stan stomped down on his foot.

“No.” Beverly broke in. “Sorry, Eddie. Best man gets his own room.”

Eddie frowned, turning away and grabbing the extra key that Bill was holding out to him. Richie glowered at both Stan and Beverly, who were both giving him matching unimpressed looks. Richie shrugged one shoulder and looked towards the casino. “Can we start drinking now? I feel like I need to start drinking.”

“Hell yes!” Bill cheered.

✳✳✳

Richie was a solid five drinks in when Eddie slumped into the seat beside him, swaying. Richie looked at him with wide eyes, world a little blurry even with his glasses on. Eddie’s perfectly styled hair had flattened down over his face and was falling into his eyes, cheeks a dusting pink and way, way past sober. “Martin is an asshole.”

Richie raised his eyebrows at the bartender he’d been chatting with the last hour or so. He knew that Stan had suggested that Richie go out and get himself laid, but Richie really wasn’t feeling up to that just yet. He was barely even feeling up to being at this bachelor party in general, and was just trying to power through until it seemed late enough that he could disappear off to bed.

The bartender, Kay, leaned forward on her elbows and smiled at Eddie. “What’s the matter, sweetie? Boy troubles?”

“My boyfriend sucks!” Eddie cried, voice slurring. “He’s soooo mad that I’m here. He had some stupid dinner party this weekend for his boring job.”

Richie pressed his mouth against his knuckles, trying to hold back his giggles. Ranting drunk Eddie was Richie’s favourite kind of drunk Eddie, and he couldn’t deny getting a sick satisfaction from hearing Eddie talking shit about Martin.

“And he doesn’t want me with my best friend!” Eddie continued as though Richie wasn’t sitting right beside him. “It’s so stupid, he’s always been so jealous of Richie.”

“Oh, lil ol’ me?” Richie sang, knocking back the rest of his drink and swaying into Eddie’s space. “Why’s that, Eds?”

Kay looked between the two men with a smirk on her face. She filled up Richie’s drink, with a duplicate for Eddie, and pushed them towards the both of them. They accepted them without question, Eddie knocking his entire drink back in one go while Richie sipped at his.

“Because you’re better than him, and he knows it?” Eddie laughed, swaying into Richie’s space. “Because he’s a stupid prude-y asshole? I don’t know, man. He just... fuck that. Fuck everybody. You know what?”

Eddie started poking Richie in the chest, a warm heat spreading through Richie from the touch. “What, my love?”

“Let’s go do something fun.” Eddie started nodding as he agreed with himself. Richie smiled all dopey at his drunk best friend. “Cuz Sandy... she was bitch, Richie. And she never deserved you. And Martin sucks, I am so... I am so mad at him. So. les... lets go.Let’s fucking go.“

“Alright, Eds.” Richie finished the last of his drink while Eddie stared at him with wide, excited eyes. “Let’s fucking go.”

✳✳✳

Richie registered that his head was pounding before he even registered that he was awake. He groaned, rolling to sit up and stumble around to find aspirin and water. He didn’t get the chance to get out of the bed before noticing the heavy weight of a person sleeping behind him.

Panic burst out through Richie in every inch of his body, momentarily over taking his exploding brain. He glanced down and sighed out a breath of relief at the sight of the baggy sweat pants that he knew Eddie would’ve packed him to sleep in. He tried to wrack his brain to why their would be somebody in his bed, but he had nothing there. A big, empty, horrible blank. Not just a regular missing memory, but something more. Like Richie knew something important was missing.

Then it caught his eye. A big, ugly, bulky ring on his ring finger. The ring finger of his left hand. Nausea rushed over Richie that had nothing to do with the hangover. He took a big, heave of breath and forced himself to look over his shoulder.

Eddie Kaspbrak was sleeping in the bed beside him, wearing Richie’s T-shirt. Richie looked away quickly, slapping his hands over his face.

“Fuck.”

#reddie #reddie fic #it fanfiction #my writing #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #vegas au #ashley back at it again with dropping fics at 3am #anyway im OBSESSSED with this au :)

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xxisxxisxxis · 5 years ago

Text

Gateway Drug | Part Sixteen

Part Fifteen

Pairing: Douglas Booth!Nikki Sixx x OC

Words: 4.7k

Warning(s): Language, mentions of drug abuse, minor sexual situations, mentions of depression

Tag List: @cierrasixx19 @oskea93 @vamprlestat @sharon6713 @itsametaphorbriansblog @miriampraez @allie-mcginn @rebeccaphillips14 @nicholeh7 @fandomshit6000 @lilmou5ie @tamedhearts @divaanya @kingbouji3 @evrsncnewyork @6ixx6ixx @ratedrkohardychick91 @floregrohlssard @oldschoolimagineblog @thanks2pete @abaldboi @swoopygorl @justjodeye @liith-ium @caos18blog @ytwahsog @shamlessobsessions @scarecrowmax @toadspleen @random-internet-user-4471 @solohqrry @loveofmyloif

****Let me know if you want to be tagged****

———————————————————————

“It’s so good to see you again!” Tommy’s mother is as warm as she’s always been, enveloping me in to a tight hug and I gladly accept it. “You look beautiful as ever.” She assures me, pulling away to examine me.

“We’re sorry we couldn’t make it to your wedding, but we got you something.” His dad says next, handing me a small velvet box wrapped in a pretty dark green ribbon.

I take it from him, and Tommy’s bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“I helped pick it out.” He informs me, the chains and studs of his costume clanking together with his enthusiasm.

I look at him cautiously before taking the ribbon off and opening the box.

Shining silver flashes from the set lights above us bouncing off the thin diamond studded band with a tiny crucifix charm dangling from it.

I pick up the bracelet to get a better look at it and feel the weight behind it. Before I can even ask, Tommy’s confirming:

“It’s real as shit, Viv.” He beams. “Me, Ma and Pop and Athena all pitched in for it.”

“Thank you, Tommy.” I smile, wrapping my arms around his neck, and he’s grabbing at my wrist and fastening the bracelet around it once we pull away.

“Hey, Doc, where’s Nikki?” He asks when he’s done, seeing Doc walk past us. “I want him to meet my folks.”

“I’ll go find him.” Doc assures him softly.

“Where’s Roxie?” I ask next, remembering him mentioning she was here and he shrugs.

“She had to go use the bathroom, I think.” Tommy tells me before offering to give his parents a tour of the set.

I follow behind them, not completely paying attention until Tommy stops and points at Nikki approaching us behind Doc, looking guilty.

“Ooh, Ma, Dad, meet the Sixxter.” He introduces Nikki, the two sharing a high-five as Tommy’s mother immediately hugs Nikki to her.

It’s obvious he’s not expecting it, a slightly confused look on his face but he doesn’t reject her.

“It’s a pleasure.” His father greets him welcomingly, extending his hand to shake Nikki’s.

“Hey, Nikki, we could fly your family out for the next L.A. gig.” Doc offers and Nikki rolls his eyes as he states:

“Great idea, Doc.” Obviously sarcastic.

I furrow my brows slightly, but save whatever questions I have about it for later.

Moving to Nikki, I snake my arms around his waist, about to press my lips to his when he turns his head away and winces a little bit, my lips instead falling to his cheek.

I go to ask what’s wrong, but Tommy interrupts me.

“Oh, guys, I want you to meet somebody else. Babe, c’mere.” He motions for Roxie who’s observing all of this from a corner.

Nikki tenses up, his eyes seeming to be able to be everywhere else but Roxie...or me. As she passes by us, he’s seemingly hiding behind his black hair, and I look between the two of them just as Tommy’s introducing Roxie as his “fiancée”, catching all of us off guard.

“What?” I blurt out, nausea stirring in my stomach.

Nikki’s blatant “are you fucking kidding me” expression is shared with Doc, and Tommy’s parents are even more taken back by the news.

“Nice to meet you.” Roxie states as she forces her hand to Tommy’s Mother, who’s still staring at her son in shock.

“We’re getting married!” Tommy exclaims excitedly.

“What’s the rush, Tom?” His dad asks him skeptically but politely. “Marriage is a big decision.”

“A very big decision.” I echo him, causing Tommy to glance at me with a glowing grin and Roxie to glare at me.

“Exactly.” Tommy pipes back as if nothing’s wrong. “Nikki was out of his mind when he proposed to you but still knew he wanted to be with you forever. And, dad, you proposed to mom the night that you guys met. And she didn’t even speak English. That’s love, dude. That’s what I’ve always wanted. And that’s what I’ve got.” He motions to Roxie as he keeps his arm around her and she looks up at him like a sweet little angel.

Nikki steps away from the conversation, his body heat leaving me as he takes his arm from over my shoulders and starts walking away.

I leave Tommy and his family to their own devices as I go after Nikki, concerned.

“Hey, baby.” I grab at his hand gently, walking fast to keep up with him.

“Hey.” He says flatly.

“Wh-what’s up?” I ask, and he stops and looks down at me.

“I’m about to go get wrecked. If you’re in, feel free to join me. If not, leave me alone for a few.” He cuts to the chase and I open my mouth to speak, but can’t form any words.

“Nikki, you know I’m not ‘in’.” I reply to him calmly.

“I’ll see you when I’m done, then.” He pushes past me and leaves me behind, confused and a little humiliated being that some of the extras working on set just watched and heard our exchange.

He apologized within a few days.

Years later I found out he had screwed Roxie that day and he was being a dick to me because he felt like a shitty husband and was pissed off that I was too good to him because, had I been a shitty wife, he would’ve at least had justification of doing such a thing—which would apparently become a reoccurring theme in the first four years of our marriage.

The only excuse he really had at the time was that we hadn’t consummated our marriage three months in to it...mainly because my “I’m not in the mood” had turned in to constant sleeping and lack of motivation to do much of anything—including personal hygiene on some days. I was depressed, and once Doc dragged me to a psychiatrist before it got too out of hand, I was put on a daily 60 milligram dose of Nardil. Being that it took the antidepressant four weeks to really kick in, that day on the set of the “Looks That Kill” video was the first day I really felt like myself and wanted to be involved again.

The album was released about a week after that, and the band and myself were dragged to hell over it, which didn’t help me all that much, and Nikki actually noticed it, despite his newly found hobby of smoking heroin with Vince, although the both of them had no idea I knew.

To solve the issue of constant negativity from newspapers and protestors and everything else in between, Nikki proposed a vacation.

"I already have everything handled. All you need to do is pack enough clothes for a week and we'll leave tomorrow." Is what he had told me when explaining a belated honeymoon.

"Why?" I asked, blinking up at him from where I laid in our bed.

"The album's out, our schedule's clear for a while now, and we just need to get away for a little bit."

So, that’s exactly what we did.

Rockstar's Wife Attends Church Service Days After Satanic Themed Album is Released

Vivian Sixx (Kinston) was seen Sunday, October 2, leaving a quaint Church of Christ service after nearly one week marking the release of her husband's band, Mötley Crüe, debuted their album “Shout At the Devil.” The cover art of the album features a dark and twisted ensemble of red lettering and an upside down five point star which is used to often symbolize demonic or satanic presence. Vivian's mother and devoted member of the Assembly of God, Charlette Kinston, has expressed her worry for her daughter after it was announced Vivian and Mötley Crüe bassist, Nikki Sixx, tied the knot back in late June. 'I pray for them both. I'm afraid he's going to kill her. He mocks our faith, his lyrics are violent and spiteful and he's going to kill her.' Charlette reported to us when we reached out to her. Despite the scrutiny, “Shout At the Devil” continues to sell impressively well, with tracks such as “Bastard”, recently released single, “Looks That Kill”, and a cover of the Beatles' “Helter Skelter”, with the title track “Shout At the Devil."

I read the article of the newspaper Doc had read in the car ride over here to drop us off before Nikki's snatching it away from me and throwing it onto the tarmac, smacking his gum and staring down at me behind his black sunglasses.

"You don't have insurance." He uses my own words against me with a smirk.

"I was just reading what they were saying about me." I argue with a shrug, stepping up the stairs.

"Nothing worth reading." He replies, popping me on the butt to move me along.

Once we get on Doc's private plane, I plop down in a seat and look out the window.

"Are you telling me where we're going, now?" I ask him.

"I told you, it's a surprise, babe." He gives me that weird devious smile he wears so well when he's up to no good.

"I don't like surprises, Nikki."

"You'll like this surprise." He nudges me and I let out a breath and nod, giving him the benefit of the doubt although I'm full of doubt.

"I don't like tropical locations." I remind him and he brushes it off.

"You don't have to worry about where we're going being tropical." He scoffs out, resting his arm on the back of my seat.

"I don't like cold weather." I add and he rolls his eyes.

"It won't be cold, Viv." He assures me and I purse my lips for a moment.

"Big cities are what we're trying to avoi—"

"Viv." He states, raising his brows, his finger sliding his glasses down the bridge of his nose to expose his eyes to me.

"Yes?" I ask like a little kid getting in trouble.

"Just trust me." He orders with a little chuckle. "I'm not setting either of us up for failure. When I said 'get away' I meant it. Just relax and we'll be there in a couple hours."

Once we land and get off the plane, I'm blindsided by our location.

It's flat ground, and past the gates surrounding the tarmac, I see grassy fields.

"Welcome to Idaho." He pats at my hips and I look around at the completely flat ground around us.

"Idaho? We are honeymooning in Idaho?" I ask him, not skeptically, but in slight disbelief. "Isn't Idaho a bit humble for Nikki Sixx?"

"Where we're going is quiet, population 4,000, and no one gives a fuck about Nikki Sixx or Vivian Sixx-parenthesis-Kinston." He throws his arm around me as we step off the tarmac.

I had lived in L.A. my entire life, so, as you can imagine, a place such as Idaho was a shock to my system...mainly because I had no idea what the hell connection Nikki had to the state, that is until...

"Grandpa, this is, uh, Vivian...my wife." Nikki says to the older man that was waiting to pick us up in the parking lot.

Grandpa?

I'm probably scowling at Nikki without realizing it. I look a mess in my sweatpants and tank top with my tangled hair, and in no way presentable enough to be meeting any important family members, but I make lemonade and extend a hand to the not-so-stranger and he gives me a warm smile and grabs at my hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Vivian." He tells me with a slight nod.

"You too." I reply honestly.

He and Nikki pick up our bags, putting them into the bed of a truck.

"Nona's making dinner, she nearly forgot you were coming." He tells Nikki as we get in to the truck.

I want to ask Nikki if his dad or mom lives close to his grandparents, but I'm too anxious to speak openly at the moment, deciding to save it for later.

We're arriving in Jerome, Idaho within a few minutes, and on the outskirts of the town, we pull in to the long driveway of a cozy looking house.

"We're here." His grandfather announces and we get out of the truck, examining my surroundings.

It's flat, full of fields that hold different types of crops, and quiet.

As I'm looking around, I'm being left behind, and it isn't until Nikki whistles at me from the porch that I snap out of my observing and walk up the steps, following him inside.

"Look who I scraped off the road." His grandpa says once we're inside.

"I thought you'd leave us in the dust, rockstar." The voice is soft but holds a presence, coming from a small woman as she leans against the doorway of the steaming kitchen.

His entire rockstar, bad boy, demeanor changes as he completely engulfs her in a hug, chuckling at her reaching up to palm at his fluffy hair, verbally acknowledging the color difference since she last saw it.

Nona was the most genuine, kind, and gracious person I had ever met and she adored Nikki with every fiber of her being.

I didn't know how someone so pure could welcome a devil like Nikki with open arms. Of course to her, even after hearing about all of his nonsense, he was never a devil. He was always that charismatic, driven, dream-chasing, little boy with the poetic eyes.

She's hugging me before Nikki even properly introduces me.

"Oh, she looks just like a movie star, doesn't she, Tom?" She asks her husband, not giving him time to reply before saying, "I have been hearing about you for so long. It's nice to finally have a face to put with the name." She tells me warmly, looking up at me as she pulls away. "I've only heard all the good things, of course." She adds.

"Except for that one time you busted his only bottle of Jack." His grandfather says from the living room. "He had a bitter mouthful to say about that when he called here.”

"Because he slammed my fingers in my car door." I defend myself and his grandmother looks at him.

"On accident." He shoots back with a tiny grin.

It's now that I notice all the postcards from L.A. scribbled on in Nikki's writing and a few of Mötley's flyers from their earlier days plastered on the fridge, as Nona's and Nikki's back and forth turns in to background noise.

"You hush and go get settled before dinner." She finally gets the last word, though her tone is more so playful than harsh, the hint of a smile on her lips that he also shares.

I follow him through the house, down a hallway where the wood paneled walls are nearly completely covered with old photographs. I fall behind Nikki, taking time to look at a majority of the pictures and try to figure out who all is who in terms of relation to him.

Finally reaching the room Nikki entered, I furrow my brows slightly.

The "spare" room seems as if someone's living in it. The walls are littered with posters of artists ranging from Elton John to Deep Purple and to KISS.

There's a few pictures set up on the chest of drawers of a younger Nikki with brown hair, with his grandparents and another with what I assume is a few school friends.

"I was, like, sixteen or seventeen in those." He tells me when he notices I'm looking at the photographs.

"You lived here?" I finally come out and ask him, sitting down on the middle of the full sized bed, and he opens his suitcase and hesitates for a second.

"Uh, you could say that, yeah." He replies flatly, grabbing a change of clothes.

"What about your mom?" I knew he had her arrested or something, but I don't know if that was before or after he lived here.

He doesn't answer as if he didn't hear me, but I know he did.

"Or your dad—"

"I'm about to get a shower." He cuts me short, tugging at my ankle, pulling me down the bed so my legs are hanging off the end of it, settling between them. "You can come, too, if you want." He teases, the palm of his hand running up and down my thigh.

"...Or you could shower and I could probably just take a nap. I'm really sleepy." I tell him softly, my hand covering the top of his and stopping it before he can slip his fingers between my legs.

"It's our honeymoon, though." He doesn't give up.

I take my bare foot and place it on his shoulder when he tries to lean down, stopping him.

"You're grandparents don't need to hear us." I chuckle, his lips pressing to the arch of my foot, before leaning down over me, anyway, my leg slipping over his shoulder in the process.

"We'll be quiet." He argues, his lips brushing against mine. "I can always gag you or something."

"Go take a shower. A cold one, preferably." I state, pecking his lips and nudging him off of me.

My sex drive has been revived ever since starting my antidepressant, however, his sweet grandfather and grandmother's presence is ruining my libido.

I pull myself to the head of the bed and get comfortable, the box fan in the corner on a low setting to whisk away any heat, and drift off to sleep.

When I wake up, the sun's almost down, and Nikki's tugging on a pair of his pants before sitting on the foot of the bed.

Unable to stop myself from shifting towards him, my hand falls on the bare skin of his back, trailing across his shoulder blade as my lips mark up his spine, feeling the way his muscles ripple under his skin, starting at the middle of his back and stopping at the back of his neck before I'm wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing my lips to his cheek.

"Okay, you can't tell me to take a cold shower, and then do this." He looks at me and I furrow my brows, a little confused.

"Do what?" I ask innocently, running my finger nails across his chest.

"You..." He starts, smirking as he turns over and traps me under him, grasping one of his hands around my throat, kissing me roughly.

My legs lock around his hips, the junction of my thighs attempting to grind into him.

"The food’s ready if—oh!" Nona covers her eyes as Nikki and I scramble off of each other like a couple of teenagers caught in the act. “It’s ready. Unless you would like to wait until after you've worked up an appetite." She hints.

I burry my face in the quilt on the bed, heat rising to my cheeks in embarrassment as Nikki laughs.

"Coming.” He assures her a little awkwardly breath and she clears her throat and pushes her glasses up her nose, stepping away from the doorway.

My hand's grabbing at the pillow I was laying on earlier, hitting him as hard as I can.

"Do you not know how to lock a door?!" I whisper yell and he continues to laugh.

Once we get to the dinner table, Nona's handing us both a plate of steak and potatoes.

Except it doesn't look like steak, exactly, and it certainly doesn't taste like it.

"Um, what kind of meat is this?" I ask after a couple of bites.

"Venison." His grandpa replies and I stop chewing, blinking for a moment.

"Deer?" I ask, not wanting to sound rude.

"Mule deer." He says, taking a swig of his Pepsi.

"I soaked it in vinegar and then marinade to get the gamey taste out of it." Nona cuts in, worried I might throw up. I'm worried I might throw up, too, but I manage to keep it in.

"No, no, it's fine I just...I've never had deer before." I explain, looking at Nikki.

He's licking his lips, smiling to himself at my expense and I try to rinse my mouth out with my soda after I reluctantly swallow the piece of meat I'd been chewing, and decide to eat my potatoes instead.

"You know, we didn't expect you to come." His grandfather tells him, wiping his mouth with a paper towel. "You'd called and told us however many times before that you'd come for thanksgiving or Christmas and never did." He laughs to hide his obvious disappointment.

"Yeah...some things came up." Nikki doesn't look at him, cutting at his food.

"No, we understand. Between a wife and rock n' roll and partying with your friends, it's hard to make time for your family."

"They are my family." Nikki states, meeting his grandfather's gaze.

"So, Vivian, Nikki tells us you grew up in Los Angeles. Have you ever been out of the city at all?" His grandmother changes the subject to dissolve the tension forming around Nikki and his grandad and I hesitate to answer.

"I've been to New York a few times to visit our friend Tansy. She's modeling, now. But I've never been to a town as small as this." I admit. "You guys should come visit L.A. some time, actually." I offer, glancing at Nikki to see if he'd be okay with that.

"I've tried to get them to." He says lowly, cutting at another piece of meat.

"We plan on it, soon." Nona tells him calmly. "There's just a lot going on lately with Tom and I and you kids have plenty going on as well. It just hasn't been a good time is all."

"So, tell us about this mother of yours." His grandpa’s cutting in and I hesitate to answer for a moment.

"She hates us." Nikki informs him before I can.

"She thinks Nikki's the devil and I'm going to hell for marrying him." I explain.

"Oh, well..." Nona obviously doesn't know how to respond to that.

"But my dad's cool." I rush to say, trying to save the conversation from going sour. "He, um, told me he bought the new record." I add, remembering the letter I received a few days after the album was released.

"Does he like heavy music like that?" She asks and I lick my lips.

"I'm not sure. I've only ever heard him listen to gospel music, but mainly because my mom doesn't allow secular music in the house." I say.

"Do you like their music?" She questions next and I look at Nikki and my lips pull into a soft smile.

"I've built up my tolerance to it." It's as if I've thrown cold water in Nikki's face.

He was obviously expecting me to kiss his ass about it, and his grandparents laugh.

"Kidding." I do some damage control, gently nudging Nikki with my elbow as he looks at me unamused. "I think he's a brilliant songwriter. And the talent of everyone else's efforts match the composer's."

He rolls his eyes at me and I do the same to him, causing him to make a childish face at me and I mimic him.

"Are you going to school now or...?" She takes a sip of her drink before pulling me out of my back and forth with Nikki.

"Uh, I'm taking some time off." I tell her with a curt nod.

"She got a full ride to Juilliard for ballet, though." Nikki cuts in, taking a bite of meat. “She’s a fucking genius.” He adds proudly and I rub my lips together to hold back a giggle at the way his grandparents look at him.

“Language.” His grandad reminds him and Nikki holds back a smart-ass laugh.

“Why did you not go?” Nona asks me and I look at Nikki, who looks at me knowingly and I clear my throat.

"I didn't want to leave L.A." I explain. “Mainly my friends.”

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m sure there’s plenty of other schools closer by whenever you decide to go.” She replies hopefully and me nor Nikki have the heart to tell her I’m probably never going back to school with the way things are going for the band. “...Of course if you have babies, it’ll be harder to go to school and be there for them, especially if he’s on the road and no one’s there to help you.”

I lose my appetite immediately, and Nikki’s reading my expression like a book.

“She’ll be on the road with me.” He tells her. “I don’t care if we have to get a bigger bus for our kids to fit.” He’s certain of it and I swallow thickly, downing a few gulps of water to calm the prickling in my skin.

“I've got a cake in the refrigerator." Nona offers, noticing I’ve stopped eating. “If you want some for dessert.”

"No, thank you. I've had a long day. I just want to sleep." I decline politely and she nods, she and her husband bidding me Goodnight.

“I’ll be in there in a few minutes, babe.” Nikki says as I stand up and I nod, kissing the top of his fluffy hair briefly before stepping to his bedroom.

I stay in my T-shirt and pull off my pants and panties before I get comfortable on the side of the bed I’ve claimed as mine.

Every now and then I hear a car drive by on the quiet country road, and sometimes Nikki’s boyish laughter echos up the hall and crawls under the door to make me smile.

God, I love him.

After about an hour of hearing his conversations with his grandparents, they’re all saying goodnight.

The door creaks open and he shuts it behind him when he gets inside, stepping to his bag to drink a few gulps of Jack from the bottle he packed.

“They fucking love you.” He mumbles to me once he’s finished, pulling the covers back and crawling in to bed.

I turn to face him, getting as close to him as I can, actually enjoying the smell of whiskey on his breath.

“Of course they do.” I arrogantly agree, my voice deliberately holds an overzealously glamorous tone. “Everyone does.” I add and he scoffs at me, causing a small chuckle to leave me.

We lay in silence for a few moments, our eyes adjusting to the pitch dark of the room, aside from the moonlight streaming through the window.

His hand reaches out to graze my cheek, his thumb rubbing over my bottom lip and my tongue darts out to taste it.

A deep breath sucks in to his chest when I do this, and I don’t give him time to think before my lips brush against his.

Just as he opens his mouth slightly to tease at my tongue with his, my teeth are playfully tugging at his bottom lip, earning a faint groan from him as he pulls me up to straddle him.

Hands snake up my waist, making their way under my shirt and along my ribs, his rough palms grabbing at my chest, his thumbs rubbing over my nipples.

Heat pours from between my thighs and I pull the T-shirt from over my head, leaning back to moan out soft enough that no one in the house can hear it.

My lips find his again, one of his hands moving to my throat.

He goes to tug at the chain of my crucifix but I stop him.

“We’re married, now.” I remind him in a whisper, taking shallow breaths. “Sex in a marriage is a form of worship to God.” I add, my hands grazing over his bare shoulders.

“Bullshit.” He says back and I shake my head a little.

“I’m serious.” I tell him with a little smile, pressing a chaste kiss to the tip of his nose.

For once I’m saying something about God that he can get behind: the sleazier and more creative the sex is, the better. For worshipping purposes, of course.

“You shouldn’t have told me that.” He says with a sly smile and I laugh as he turns over and pins me to the bed.

#nikki sixx #tommy lee #vince neil #mötley crüe #douglas booth #daniel webber #colson baker #the dirt

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