#When it rains I want to disappear off somewhere

[teapartyprojectrpg]

QUANDO CHOVE, QUERO DESAPARECER PARA ALGUM LUGAR (Tradução)

Traduzido por Maya Ooue.

Revisado por Ashiri e Lua.

Podem jogar clicando aqui.

[izvmimi]

cw: slightly inebriated smut (only tanjiro is tipsy, really). tanjiro being his soft self. fem!reader. modern au, characters are a little older than college age. one (or more) silly jokes. pussy eating. penetrative sex.

Your boyfriend is far too social, you think to yourself as you tip your red plastic cup to your lips, drinking the last of the punch Tanjiro handed to you before returning to practically schmoozing the crowd, the remainder of your friends and old classmates gravitating around him like moths to a flame. It’s not his fault, you remind yourself again, taking another sip, the alcohol hitting the back of your throat with an airy gulp. He’s popular and social; he shines like the sun always, while you are somewhere closer to hot summer rain, sweet at times but intense and easily transitioned to thunder and stormy weather if suboptimal conditions arise. 

Similar to now. 

You can already feel your social battery slowly drain to the end of its lifetime, dreading what will ensure thereafter. Shinobu and Mitsuri had enthused you earlier in commenting on outfits and filling you in on gossip (Zenitsu having a restraining order against him ordered by two girls in the exact same neighborhood and Inosuke accidentally eating cat food Gyomei had left out for the neighborhood stray then asking for more), but now Obanai had quickly captured the latter girl’s attention again and they were off to God knows where in this party house, while Shinobu had decided to turn in early and disappeared without comment. You find yourself perched on a high stool while the remainder of the party continues to rage, loud music making your head pound with the bass. At some point, Tengen and Rengoku started doing competitive keg stands and you’re almost sure that if you see Tanjiro do this too you’re going to head upstairs and go to bed without another word. Instead, he’s playing a drinking game with Sabito and Giyuu, Sabito with a pingpong ball in hand and aiming a little too seriously at the arranged cups. Murata stands at the other end of the table frowning and you wonder when he’ll ever win a game.

The Demon Slayers are a rowdy bunch when they party. 

You reach the end of your drink and consider a second when you suddenly feel a hand clap onto your shoulder, squeezing hard enough that it startles you to the point of nearly falling off your seat.

You yelp, and Inosuke is grinning once you turn, and you think again about the cat food before you ask what he wants. 

“What do you mean what do I want- JANJIGO YOUR GIRLFRIEND WANTS TO LEAVE!”

Inosuke’s loud voice cuts clear through the music, enough that Kanao and Aoi whip around from their lazy positions cuddled on the couch to look in your direction.

“I did not say-” you hiss at him, but Tanjiro’s already quick to come over, smiling all the while. Inosuke grins and disappears, and you consider throwing something at him, your face is so warm and embarrassed, but you’re quickly distracted by Tanjiro’s gentle voice.

“Hey, are you tired?” he says breathily. He’s already easing you off the seat, taking the cup from your hand to discard it, and holding your other hand gently with the other. He’s pleasantly buzzed, soft red on his cheeks matching the tint of his dark eyes. He’s disarming you with how cute he is, and overly affectionate, his face nuzzling into your neck practically as he leans in. 

“Tanjiro~, there are people around…” you remind him as he starts to kiss your neck, but he whispers a soft ‘so?’ and you realize there’s not much you can do to deter him from being too handsy, and decide to pull him away before you end up embarrassed. He’s practically laughing as you pull him up the wooden steps of the rented home, and you move so quickly upstairs, you end up stumbling, only to be scooped up and pulled close to get kisses between giggles.

“What are you-”

“You’re clearly too drunk to walk,” he teases, although he’s slurring his speech far more than you are, eyes gently lidded as he looks at you. Warm around the ears, you decide to abandon that fight, and remind him where the room you’re sharing with Mitsuri is, thankful that you’re not sharing with Shinobu and your roommate is nowhere to be found.

“Don’t drop me,” you remind him. 

“Wouldn’t ever for the world.” 

…

Tanjiro’s coordination despite inebriation is a bit too good. Not content to just drop you off and see you in the morning (as you expected) by the time the door is closed, he’s at your neck and then your chin and then your lips, until you’re kissed every inch from your forehead to the center of your breasts, and he’s pulling off your jeans, lips still closed around your nipple. Hands heavier than usual under the influence of more than a few drinks run all over your body, and play with your pussy as he kisses you, spit-slicked fingers toying with your clit and your insides until they’re wet, then further wetted by the motions of his tongue. Sloppily he makes out with your pussy, head between your dangling knees until you’re moaning and squeezing your thighs shut around his head; something that doesn’t stop him, only spurs him further. 

“Sorry for leaving you alone down there,” he whispers against your pussy, then slurps further, and it’s almost laughable that he chooses now to apologize. You laugh and whisper that it’s fine but then he licks a long stripe through your cunt that makes your back arch as you let out a moan and your fingers tug shakily on strands of his hair. He says a playful ‘ow’ that has you whispering sorry but shuddering all the while.

“I’ll give you all the attention you need, okay?” he promises. You nod as he gets up and pulls his shirt over his head, your eyes practically swimming with desire as you watch him. He catches you enjoying the show and winks and you would die for the cringe if not for the act that he’s quickly turning you over onto your belly, taking a handful of your ass hostage before pressing his chest to your back. 

Slipping inside you, he groans a bit.

“The door’s locked, right?” you murmur, trying to distract from the stretch between your folds.

“Yeah,” he says through a grunt. You're not sure if he actually knows for sure but you do know, he'd never lie to you. You sigh, as he pushes in to the brim, and then lets you settle around him, letting his fingers pet your hair gently, and his other hand plant carefully into the mattress beside you. Still folded over the edge of the bed, he gently grips onto your scalp, and then he’s thrusting in, slow, then fast, then faster, then hard as your breaths deepen and you let out a moan. Skin slapping against skin, your voices melding together, Tanjiro is soon a little too exuberant, and a little too strong, soon lifting you off the mattress until your trembling arms are trying to find purchase on his slightly bent knees. Just seconds into this position, he has some mercy on you and it’s a normal stand, gentle, slow, loving - he kisses your neck as he moves you up and down, careful, until he slows, resting his arm against your tummy and breathing in your scent.

“I love you, you know that,” he says, breathily. You savor the twitch of his cock inside you as he eventually lays you down, additional, slower strokes accompanied with deep kisses. Your heart flutters as you keep going. 

You know that. The social butterfly will always come back to you, whether you’re a thorny rose or a bright daisy, your special fragrance always carrying him home.

[shu-porang-porang]

Slow Moments

He's yours and it's raining, life couldn't get better!

Pairs: Lee Minho (Lee Know) / fem!reader

Theme: fluff, explicit

Warnings: cock warming, not proofread, 18+ NO MINORS

Word count: 0.7 k

You had plans to dine out tonight, but the soft drizzle of rain turned to a somewhat thunderstorm. You open the window and take a deep breath, but you have to close it soon since the cold air makes you shiver. You stand there, looking at the blurred city lights through the glass, listening to the pitter patter of the rain. The dim lights of the evening invite you to stay in the coziness of your apartment

You feel his arms wrap around you from behind, he kisses the side of your chin.

“All I wanna do right now is cuddle up with you.” He says as if he read your mind.

“Me too.”

“Really? So can we have our dinner date tomorrow night?”

“Sure baby. Just let me make some coffee, then we can cuddle all you want.” You turn on your hill to give him a quick peck and then disappear to the kitchen.

Minutes later when you’re back with two mugs of hot coffee with milk and cinnamon, you find him sitting on the bench beneath the window, peering out the view. You place the mugs on the table next to the bench and sit in his lap. His hands are quick to circle your torso as he rests his chin on your shoulder, the soft tuft of his hair tickling your neck.

At moments like this, it feels as if the time has stopped, as if the whole world stayed still, and you two are the only people in it, the only people who matter. You don’t know how long you sit there, utterly silent, only the rain and the occasional sipping of coffee can be heard.

He’s done with staring at the rain, he can only control himself so much when your bodies are flushed against each other like this. He starts with lazy kisses on the side of your neck, he takes his time with each kiss, closing his lips on a patch of skin, giving it a lick, sucking a little, and finally letting go of it with a wet smooch. You roll your head back to give him more access, your hand reaches behind his head to play with his locks. He does the same to your shoulder and when your sweater stops him from further marking your skin, he lifts his head up to kiss your chin, working his way along your jawline, your cheek and finally his lips are brushing against yours. You adjust yourself in his lap so you can properly kiss him. His warm wet tongue swirls around yours, probing every corner with so much excitement as if discovering unmarked lands. You pick up the faint taste of cinnamon on his tongue. His hand slides under your sweater, rubbing your side.

He needs more, you can sense it, but he knows how much you love the rain, so he’s holding back until it’s over, then he’ll take you to bed and make love to you properly. For now, he can settle for a make out session by the window. You, being the sweet caring girlfriend you are, decide to give him some relief. So, you break the kiss to say: “I wanna try something.”

His big boba eyes meet yours with curiosity, waiting for more explanation. Your hand fumbles with his waistband and drags his sweatpants and boxers down to free his member. It’s not entirely soft but you need it fully erect for your little plan. You stroke it up and down while kissing his neck, his head rolls back and little whimpers start to fall off his lips. When he’s hard enough, you pull your sweats and panties down and align it with your soaking wet entrance. His eyes screw shut as you slowly sink down on it.

“Let’s stay like this while it’s still raining. I’ll keep you nice and warm for me.” You say as you rest your body against his, your head on his chest where he’s heart is beating with excitement. He holds you tight in his arms, peppering kisses atop your head, whispering sweet nothings in between.

Feeling full and wrapped in his warmth, somewhere between listening to the melody of raindrops tapping against the window and his heartbeat pounding against his ribcage, you fall into a slumber. He lets you have this little rest as he’s gonna make sure you won’t get much of it later that night.

[helslastangel]

Moon Conjunct Venus + Moon Trine Ascendant Synastry

Based on My Personal Experiences 🔞

This may not resonate for everyone, so if it doesn't hit, please let it miss. There are 18+ topics included this so minors, do not interact. 🔞

Their Moon conjunct your Venus

This aspect is wonderful if you're both feeling each other. They can and will read you like a book without even needing to turn the first page. If you've ever seen or been in one of those couples where the one person knew exactly what the other one wanted or needed, without ever discussing it, even once?

Yeah, those are the vibes here.

You will be loved exactly the way you want to be loved and if things don't work out, there is a good chance the breakup could leave you feeling destroyed for quite some time, even if you were never in a relationship.

This aspect can make it very difficult to be "just friends" if either person wants more from the connection.

But even platonic friends with this synastry aspect can be amazing. These are the kinds of friend that you give the spare keys to, can call at 4 in the morning whether for an emergency or just to sob about something stupid.

They are the ones you who can come over without calling first. In fact, you welcome it and aren't surprised to come home and find them asleep on your couch. Like this is the friend that you're more like family with if you're not in a romantic connection.

If you ever get in a mood and start talking about "everyone this" and "people always/never that," they aren't offended because it doesn't even cross their mind to think they're included in that pile.

There is no guarantee that things will always be perfect or work out with this placement, obviously it depends on factors in the whole chart and other things like time, place, circumstance, and so on.

Of course, anyone who can read you accurately has the ability to use that to manipulate and harm rather than help and support you, but that's a risk of life in general. All I'm saying is: with this aspect, when it's good, it's DAMN GOOD.

To give you an example, I had this synastry with a Scorpio moon several years ago (I'm a Scorpio Venus). We met at an event and hit it off so well that we were talking outside the venue for nearly 4 hours, annoying his friends and mine. Ended up bringing him home with me and I fully expected him to disappear into a cloud of dust the next day, but he didn't.

We didn't end up working out beyond friends with benefits, but he's NEVER been rude or unkind to me once. Extremely patient, always calm no matter what and very sweet to me whenever we run into each other somewhere in the city every couple of years.

The way he handled me emotionally was just beautiful, I can't think of another way to put it. Most of my friends at the time would ignore anything I did creatively - not him, he found one of my books and posted it on his story with a cute caption saying how much he loved intelligence and that he was proud of me. The type to show up in the rain and keep me company when I was sick (back when I lived alone), even though he had class, work and practice all that day. The first time we hooked up, I was getting my laundry together and wondering why he hadn't left yet. He picked up the bags talking about, "Nah I got 'em, lead the way to the laundromat, why would I leave you to do this by yourself."

TMI / TW (mentions of sexual activities, body fluids, menstruation/periods) so again, minors, get out of here and the rest of you proceed with caution or skip to the next paragraph.

He was very much empathetic and also body positive-absolutely nothing seemed to gross him out. I have so many examples, but let's go with something both extreme and spicy. I was bundled up, laying on his shoulder and trying to deal with menstrual cramps while we were watching a show and him going, "Oh you know I read somewhere that orgasms can ease those, may I?" I'm there like, may you what? sure?? I'm curious?? Next thing I know, he's got a towel down, yeets the tampon and dives in head first talking about "a period ain't stop nothing but a sentence." And, well? All I'll say is.. at least ONE man knows where the clit is! ibuprofen, who? where? 😂😈

Obviously that's a bit much if you're a vanilla type (but a Scorpio moon + Scorpio venus? baby we was freaks, what can I say? lmfao) but this is just an example I mention because the important part is not once did he bring up getting off himself. No hinting for a quickie or a BJ like you might expect. I even offered because I was used to guys doing seemingly selfless gestures only to be guilt-tripped shortly after, and he was just like, "Sorry, what? No, you're not feeling well, I wanted you to feel better, plus I don't need to get off all the time, I read it's healthy to ignore the urges sometimes." (Idk if you could tell, but he REALLY likes to read, loll).

That's what I'm talking about with the Moon-Venus conjunction. This kind of synastry will vary in the specific ways it's expressed of course, but all other things being equal, someone with their moon conjunct your venus will intuitively know what you want and need to feel loved, and it works because it blends very well with their own emotional needs. If the moon person tells you they enjoy doing something for you or with you without expecting anything in return, believe it. It sounds like a lie because of the types of people who would lie about that, but with this aspect, chances are they meant that shit.

Not only that, but you'll feel like you've known them for a long time. That's because you'll also understand their emotional expression on an intuitive level. This isn't as one-way as it could sound. Oh, no, not at all. You will feel like you've met before and find yourself making time and space, and finding energy for them even out of thin air. You could live in a tiny studio that you'd never share with anyone and then find yourself cleaning out your closet on a Sunday afternoon to "make a little space" for their extra work uniform or even as tiny as keeping an extra toothbrush, clearing a hook in the bathroom, keeping their favorite snacks in the fridge, stuff like that. You'll generally feel at home with each other and trust can build VERY quickly. Others could even wonder if you're okay, especially if you're normally a paranoid person.

With Scorpio moon guy, he accidentally left his wallet the first time he left my place and I called him when I found it. His response was "Oh I left it at yours? Oh good, that's okay then, I'll come get it at some point this week, let me know what days you'll be home". He knew me for less than 24 hours at the time, lol. 3 months later he had the door code to my place and there were two toothbrushes and two towels instead of one LOL, trust was never an issue and it certainly wasn't the reason we didn't work out either! We basically just couldn't really keep pace with each other because... we had a 6 year age gap. Completely different life stages. I have a feeling if we both were a lot older, it would have worked out. Literally nothing else was wrong with us.

Now, that was with me being the Venus (and Ascendant-see below) person. I'll be honest, as a Capricorn moon, I'm curious about how it would be if I meet a Capricorn venus romantically. I wonder how that would play out all the time, and I think I'll let that remain a mystery until it happens, then I'll hopefully still be blogging then and come back and tell yall about that too. THAT BEING SAID... I do have this aspect (as the moon person this time) with a platonic Capricorn venus friend I had for nearly 13 years. We would literally be in each other's houses (and hair and business lol) all the time. We had yearly festivals we always went to together, talked almost everyday, knew how each other was feeling before the other one would even say anything. Mopped each other up off the floor when going through shit. She punched a guy I was dating who cheated on me, and I introduced her to a mutual friend who I thought she might like to date, and then cussed the hell out of him when he didn't pull his weight like I thought he would. Things like that.

The friendship ended nearly 7 years ago but I miss her every day. I remember what happened, but in hindsight, it seems so foolish now and I miss her every single day. We would have been friends for 20 years by now and I don't have a lot of regrets in life, but that is one of them. She hurt me but I handled it so poorly both before and after she reached out to talk that it just destroyed the entire foundation of our friendship. I haven't even tried to get over it because I don't want to. To me, that would be just disrespectful, I feel like it's something I need to carry with me as a reminder to do better next time. I'm sure you see by now that this is a quite an intense and dynamic placement!

Bonus Observation:

Moon Trine Ascendant Synastry

If someone with their moon conjunct your venus ALSO has their moon trine your ascendant, WHEW that is hot. Not only will the emotional connection be strong, but they will find everything about you on the outside just as enticing as the inside.

They genuinely enjoy the way you express yourself and can have a lot of patience for any shenanigans you might get up to. These people will watch you from across a crowded room all evening and suddenly appear by your side just before you leave to tell you they think you're attractive and want to get to know the rest of you beneath the surface. And it's rarely ever creepy. They'll know just how to approach you. I've had this synastry aspect a few times and it's always been like that. Genuinely charming. Perfect rizz.

This kind of synastry, as I said earlier, will leave you in absolute shambles if things don't work out, especially if you don't encounter this synastry often in your connections. Personally, I'd consider this one of those aspects where one or both of you can feel like the other was a soulmate, or "the one that got away," and end up being celibate or single (if romantic), or becoming asocial (if platonic) for a long time after splitting up. That or cycling through a series of awful relationship and friendship rebounds in an attempt to find them in another person.

Not too much on me for this, but there's a country song by Colt Fold that I'd loved for half a decade now called 4 Lane Gone. I'm sure there are other songs out there that would capture this better, but this is the one that stuck with me.

Something about the way this artist captures the feeling. Wistful, you can tell dude is acting strong, but knows damn well a good thing just got royally fucked up. Maybe I'm just melodramatic (I'm water dominant after all), but have a listen and see if you get what I'm talking about.

Idk. From my experiences with these aspects (been lucky enough to experience it with more than one person), I'd say it gives a pretty good idea of how either side could feel when it ends. Probably more so the Moon person, though, as they're likely to react like this to either a) being the one to end the relationship prematurely and regret it, or b) being blindsided by the Venus/Ascendant person up and leaving, and taking so long to process and recover from the shock, that by the time they chase after them...they're...well...four lanes gone. Lol.

Lyrics

[Verse 1]

Been raining for three days

On the fast track to the highway

Trying to save a little time

Lord I never should have tried

Taking this back road shortcut

Now I’m way stuck, so sunk

I’ll never catch her now

So I just put the tailgate down

She’s probably somewhere doing 95

I got nothing but this cooler and time

[Chorus]

I cracked one waiting on a ride

Two or three just to pass the time

While she’s headed to a new town

And I’m too lost to be found

She probably thinks that I don’t care

Stuck in the rut in the middle of nowhere

And just my luck I’ll be here all night long

Man, I’m bummed out back road buzzed

And she’s four lane gone

Yeah she’s four lane gone

[Verse 2]

Every empty beer can makes me

Miss her like hell, man I can kick myself

For the place and the shape I’m in holding me back

Yeah my wheels keep on spinning

And she’s ticked off blacktop fast

[Chorus] x 1

[Bridge]

While I’m stuck here all alone

With a midnight natty light

One more chance I’ve blown

[Chorus] x 1

[Outro]

I’m out here all alone

Yeah she’s four lane gone

She’s four lane, four lane gone

Yeah she’s four lane gone

She’s four lane gone

[boobav]

fluff ☁️ with curly

A thousand pretty stars hover above you, below you, all around you. Every inch of infinite darkness embroidered with twinkling lights.

If only there was a window.

A big window, framed ornately with curling silver and sparkling jewels. A planet or two far off, reminding you of home, of the promise of earth. You dream quietly of soil and dirt. Of clouds and pouring rain. Mundanity. It's so overlooked when you have it. When you hold simplicity in your hands, you disregard it. Then, when it's gone, you beg for its return. Never pleased. Never-

"Can't sleep?" A voice comes from behind, cuts through the air and your thoughts with ease as though they were one. Curly.

You hum. "No. Somehow I ended up back here, staring at the screen."

His footsteps sound out loud in the silence as he makes his way to your side, then hovers for a moment, like he doesn't know what to do with himself. He motions to the spot beside you on the couch.

"May I?"

"'Course. You're the captain, after all."

"Well," he sits down with a huff. Your knees touch, and the two of you flinch away on instinct. A glance is shared as an apology, but you both run from it. "I wouldn't want to be an intrusive captain. I don't think anyone would appreciate that."

"How responsible." Your eyes remain trained on the fake night sky, the screen that works only to make your yearning harsher. The room seems infinitely warmer with the captain here. There's space between you, but clearly not enough. "I'm sure Pony Express is... proud."

The shift of his hips draws your attention. He leans back, puts his hands up on the couch in an attempt to get comfortable. He looks anything but.

"I don't think the word proud has ever crossed their mind, to be honest."

There's a pause, a jittery quiet, and then he looks to you. His face illuminated by the ships nighttime blue and the fake moon. You hate how quickly your insides melt.

"And do you- does that bother you?"

His eyes dart down, and away.

"What? If Polle's proud of me or not?" Curly tries to laugh, but seems too tired for it.

"No, I mean," you struggle to grasp the right words, the right way of approaching what you really want to talk about. "Does it bother you that no one's proud? That nobody really... cares, or even knows that we're out here?"

His gaze returns to you. From the corner of your vision you can see, see how he watches your every twitch with unearthly interest, see how he takes his time to commit even the curve of your nose to memory. At least, it makes you feel better to imagine he's doing such.

"I don't know. Sometimes. But you should keep your head up, right? Think about the people who do care, like me- the crew." He places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, but it leaves quickly, too warm, too out of place.

"I really don't think Swansea would think twice if I disappeared off this ship, captain."

He laughs properly this time. The sound alone almost shatters the walls you've built, the high inhibitions your position calls for. You find yourself shuffling just an inch closer to his warmth regardless. The sun, smothered and hidden by metal, yet visible just for you.

"Well, maybe. But I would. More than twice, actually, I'd probably..." he clears his throat, "probably think a few times. You know, think about where you've gone."

Now comes your turn to stare. The gentle blue light on his warm features, the red creeping up his thick neck, his hair falling perfectly over his face. Every movement you make now is deliberate, awfully so, each inching move towards him a desperate crawl through dirt. Your knee nudges his again. This time, neither of you move.

"When we're back on earth, what do you wanna do?" You ask. He shifts uncomfortably.

"Get a nice dinner somewhere, maybe. There's this one place I used to love but... I haven't been there in ages. I'm sure they've forgotten me by now. You?"

"Go on a hike in the rain. Breath in some fresh air. Pet a dog, buy groceries. Everything I can't do up here I guess."

He fixes his eyes on you now, clenches the fist that's fallen to his lap.

"Would you..." he pauses, "would you, by any chance, need some help with that?"

"With... breathing?"

He blinks. "No, I meant- would you-"

"Like to go on a date when we're back?" The words spill from your lips, molten and hot. You regret them instantly, curse yourself for pushing so far, but the look in his eye changes your mind. A gentle glimmer of hope, of surprise, of hesitation.

"Uh, yeah. I'd take you on one now if I could but we're in the middle of space and I'm, well- I'm your captain. I don't want you to... feel pressured."

You smile. His expression is uncharacteristically timid. It fits strangely onto his strong features, runs along his nose to leave muddy footprints. With another push against the tides of your hesitation, you reach over, pull his clenched hand into yours. He sighs from the contact, sighs again when you run your thumb along his knuckles.

"Good thing we're getting fired after this, I guess. You won't have to worry about the captain thing anymore."

He leans his head against your shoulder. Your other hand wraps around him, kneads through his hair as if you'd done this a thousand times before. Maybe you have in some other, distant life. But with how fast your heart is beating now, how hot your skin feels at every touch, that life must have been centuries ago.

"What then? I take lead of another ship? The pays good, but... there's so many things I wanted to do before I put myself in this loop. Now, they're just empty boxes on a bucket list." He looks up through his lashes, embarrassed yet emboldened by his vulnerability. By your acceptance of his vulnerability. "Sorry. I shouldn't just dump that on you."

"It's okay. You're in a difficult position. We all are." You weave your fingers through his thick hair, crumble at every small noise that leaves his throat. The bags under his eyes are getting darker, you notice. "We'll do one thing at a time."

"Right. Yeah," Curly sits up, "but the first thing's dinner, alright?"

His smile is contagious. The sweetest disease in the galaxy.

"Alright."

[a-boca-do-inferno]

blueberry (caesar x human!reader)

summary: Man is insecure and, perhaps not so surprisingly, so are apes.

warnings: angst, swearing, fluff

words: 3.6k

notes: can be read as a standalone or a continuation to alone. this is set somewhere between the events of wftpota but he is alive in my heart btw. enjoy x

gif credit

“I don’t care”, you sign and huff, glaring at him. You needed to hurt him; like he had hurt you just now. You point to the cave entrance. “Leave.” 

Caesar shoots you a desolated look, standing in the middle of the rain, completely soaked. He can’t speak. Not this time. He’d done it so many times before, repeating the same thing over and over again. I will change. I will stop worrying. I love you. And now you could see the truth: no matter how much he claimed to love you, his sorrows would always be stronger than his feelings and you just had enough. You were a tired woman. And he knew that, too. 

“Okay”, he mumbles at last with a brief sign as he watches his step and backs away. 

He leaves with his head down and disappears into the dark of the night. You’re only left with the sound of heavy drops smashing onto the floor. The ground now felt like opening up under your feet, but it wasn’t always like this. 

Caesar stared at you with widened eyes, not noticing your presence until you spoke up. A smile spread on his face and he shrugged off his worries, his frown fading gradually. “You… lifesaver.” He gesticulated toward the food you carried with a grateful look. It smelled so good and he didn’t hesitate to grab the bowl of soup, sipping on it and letting out a sigh of relief. “Thank you... for everything”, he signed with his free hand after a moment.

“You’re welcome, now what do you want?” You teased and ruffled his head lightly. Caesar had become a good friend over the past few months. It felt like you’ve known each other for a long time, even before the flu. “Or were you just that hungry?”

Caesar snorted, still drinking the soup. “Both… I think.” He swallowed before adding hoarsely, “sometimes I just need… to see you.” It sounded like a lighthearted comment, but he wasn’t smiling because deep down he knew it was true. You made him feel like he never did with anyone, ape or otherwise. He recoiled in his spot, watching you with attentive eyes. 

And you, to your credit, chuckled quietly with pink cheeks, “well, here I am.” You sat in front of him and leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees. “You know, Caesar, I’ve been thinking… Maybe you should come stay with me for a while.” 

You were well aware of his problem with loneliness ever since he lost Cornelia and couldn’t help but want to take care of him. Being a leader had its perks and many included a deep sense of isolation, especially when the very lives of a whole species depended on him to make it in this world. Humans were still a constant threat, even amidst the downfall of civilization, but you reckoned Caesar felt lonely long before the apocalypse from the few stories he’d tell you about Will. If anything, being surrounded by his own kind only alienated him more overtime due to the burden of the “crown”.

Caesar tensed up, his eyebrows raising at the unexpected offer. He stayed unmoving for a few seconds, however his demeanor eventually changed into one of contemplation. Perhaps it wasn’t such a terrible idea at all. He’d been greatly feeling the change in environment since they moved and doing things alone had always proven to be harder for him, if more familiar. Taking another sip of his soup, his thoughtful gaze traveled the ceiling. 

“Sure… you wanna live… with my drama?” He finally asked, with an almost amused expression.

“We can be dramatic together”, came the quick reply, as you carried a playful tone of your own. “But really, I think it’ll do you some good. It’s not permanent, I just wanna help you get a little more time to adjust while you sort things out with the council.” You grinned softly, “change is always overwhelming and some company might broaden your horizons, maybe even help with your decision.”

Caesar pondered your words, still with a humorous smile. “I could stay… for a while.” He added with some emphasis. 

“It’s settled then, you can move in anytime you want”, you stood up and patted his shoulder. As you noticed there was a hint of uneasiness lingering in his eyes, you hummed, “consider it my formal thanks to you for taking me in. Now we’re even.”

“Then I move in… tonight.”, he tried to play it off with humor, signing with a smirk. “Don’t like my place… anyways.”

In fact, deep down Caesar was glad to get away from there; especially because he was about to face the most challenging phase of leadership: letting go. By the end of the day, he was all settled into your home. He took your bed under your indignant protests that the floor was a “back killer”, in your own words. You had a way of making him sustain a smile for far longer than he was used to—which wasn’t often—and that was the sole reason for his compliance. 

As you were fluffing the makeshift pillows made out of animal skin, he organized his stuff in the small cabinet you made yourself. You were a handy carpenter. A quiet chuckle reached his ears and he shot you a glance. 

“I didn’t take you for the messy type, I thought all leaders were neat.”

Caesar rolled his eyes, closing the cabinet door. “I only clean… other people’s messes”, he signed with a wry smile. He turned around and leaned against the wall to face you properly, his grin fading into a sterner look. “I’m glad… you’re here.”

“And I’m glad you’re here with me, that way I don’t have to worry about your insomniac ass wandering in the cold”, you threw a stick at him, sitting on the bed with a small beam. “I really do worry and care for you, Caesar. I hope you know that.”

Caesar caught the stick with ease and met your gaze with warm eyes once again. He was clearly touched by your words and his shy grin turned into a real one, despite the tiredness on his features. He came over to sit beside you, much closer than before. 

“I know”, he replied huskily, gently caressing the nape of your neck with his thumb. “And I hope you know… I care about you.” You shivered under his touch and your lips reached for his rough palm as you kissed it. His breath hitched at the sensation of your smooth skin and he touched your foreheads, shutting his eyes.

It was now but a distant, bittersweet memory haunting you while you gathered your things and left your tent-like home with him, preparing to move in with Maurice. You had a close bond with the ginger ape due to his calmer nature; sometimes you even assisted in his classes, too, and he knew better than anyone about the shortcomings of your relationship with Caesar. This time was no different and he offered you shelter right away. He had always been supportive of you two, but never judging when you had a falling out with the boss.

Maurice knew better than anyone as Caesar got older, his stubbornness and overprotective nature only got bigger. You left out a humourless laugh, walking into your new home. Man is insecure and perhaps not so surprisingly, so are apes. And with insecurity comes obsession, along with an unhealthy need for control. Yet you always had too much understanding in your heart. Caesar just needed help, you thought, as you would peck his head whilst he slept soundly on your lap. It was so rare to see him that serene, and you cherished every second of it. 

He still had trouble sleeping; nightmares and such. Your heart ached with the ever present reminder that you just couldn’t make all his pain go away forever, no matter how hard you tried. And God, did you try. Rocking a grown chimpanzee’s body to make him go to sleep wasn’t exactly in your plans when he brought you into the colony, but you gladly took the task. You loved the guy, after all. 

And wouldn’t it be stupid to even doubt that? Still, that’s what Caesar did on occasion. He wasn’t easily upset, but when he was... It often got ugly. You were never a fearful girl, but seeing his angry fits deeply affected you. Soon talking to him became a constant walk on eggshells and if he noticed your change in behavior, he never really spoke on it, which was perhaps his biggest flaw; not communicating. But he was a leader, and a perceptive one at that. Even though he never said it out loud, it must have been clear that you couldn’t take it anymore. There was something telling about the way he simply let you go a few hours before, with no fight. 

“Comfortable?” Maurice eyes you carefully, bringing some blueberries with him to cheer you up. 

You can’t help but grin at the sight. “I am. Thank you.” You sign back and nod, taking a deep breath as you gaze around. “Caesar?” You hum, curious of where he might be. You hadn’t seen him since last night’s argument.

The orangutan shakes his head slowly, pointing at the forest, “he hunts… when angry.”

You snort. “Sounds about right.”

Maurice grunts in agreement, signing softly, “you two… end?”

You take a moment to consider his question. It looked like a break up, didn’t it? Although you weren’t sure if apes even used the concept of “breaking up” with their mates. Every couple you knew in the colony seemed happy together. No trouble in paradise. You shrug and look down. “Maybe.”

“Caesar is… difficult”, he rasps, causing you to smile despite yourself. That’s the understatement of the year. The ape adds, “you like blueberries… for a reason. They’re not… always sweet.”

You scoff at the comparison. No wonder Maurice was a great teacher. You sign with amusement, “except I can smash a blueberry if I don’t like it, but with Caesar, I can’t.”

Maurice laughs deeply. “Fair enough.”

As the night fell again, you watched the apes gather around the fire to hang out after another tranquil day from a distance. Since the war, things were slowly returning to normal and you felt a mixture of relief and anxiety every time the thought crossed your mind; growing accustomed to peace those days was dangerous. Hope could be a friend, but also a great enemy in the apocalypse. Caesar had taught you that through your many late night talks after you made love. A light blush came across your cheeks as you sighed and tried to shake off those memories. 

Dating another species was already a challenge on its own, now add being the leader of a colony on top of that, you were surprised you two had made it that far. When Caesar found you all alone hiding in a cave, struggling to survive on your own, never in a million years did you think that creature would become your closest friend and even lover. He didn’t like or didn’t see the point of those nomenclatures, sure, as he only ever referred to you as his family. If other apes outside Maurice and Blue Eyes knew about the implications of it, though, no one dared speak on it. Yet it didn’t make it any easier to digest whenever you stopped to think about it, even more so amidst his angry fits.

You finished preparing for bed and lay down in silence, staring at the stars. Another summer had begun with the difference of Caesar’s absence by your side as you tried to sleep. You took a deep breath and wiped away some stubborn tears, turning to face the wall. You closed your eyes for a brief second and when you opened them again, a large silhouette appeared on the stone surface and you slowly shifted back to find Caesar standing tall, eyeing you silently.

“Talk?” He signs hesitantly, his expression difficult to read in the dark. You only nod and he approaches you, and as he steps in an angle under the moonlight, you see he’s got a deep cut across his abdomen. You immediately sit up, looking alert. He smiles weakly and waves a dismissive hand, taking a seat beside you. “It’s… fine. Not… serious.”

You frown nevertheless, tracing his bruise and inspecting it. “What happened?”

“Bear.” He murmurs hoarsely, with an amused gleam in his green eyes. You grunt in displeasure and he asks with an almost mocking tone, “worry?”

“Of course I do, Caesar.” You huff indignantly and it only makes him smirk, but you keep glaring at him. “You think it’s funny?”

“Yes”, he says, reaching out to take your hand over his furry stomach. He comes closer, bringing his forehead to yours, “I’m… sorry.” You take a deep breath, closing your eyes. You’re not sure what to say, but he fills in the silence with a low sound, “miss… you.”

“You’re a stubborn old man”, you pull away to look him in the eye, albeit your voice stays tender. He looks humoured by your choice of words. “But I missed you too.”

Caesar’s expression softens significatively. He produces another coo, “forgive?”

You smile and bring his hand to your lips, kissing his knuckles. “Maybe.”

“Brought… present.” He rumbles after a moment and you watch him leave in silence, coming back shortly with a bowl full of blueberries. You grin and Caesar hoots quietly, feeding one to you. You blush and accept the gesture, causing him to nuzzle your face gently, “Maurice… advice.”

You roll your eyes. “That turncoat.” 

Caesar only snickers and shrugs, making a face as he tries a blueberry. He signs and pushes the bowl towards you, shaking his head in comic disapproval, “sour.”

It’s your turn to laugh.

[virune]

If you're still accepting prompts, then I've got one for the Puppet AU:

Shadow, despite claiming he was indestructible, finally gets a tear in his fabric, and it's on the back of his shoulder, which he can't reach.

Sonic then offers to help him [You can decide how it goes].

Ever since Shadow had been brought into the studio, Sonic couldn't take his eyes off him.

Sometimes it got distracting. He was grateful that he didn't really have to do anything while a human was controlling him, so he could zone out and think about how pretty the other puppet was. Deep, rumbling voice, piercing red eyes, glossy, velvety fur...

Sonic was infatuated.

But then when the humans left and the puppets could finally be themselves, Shadow would vanish. Every time. Sonic would try to catch him after their show, but Shadow always separated himself from the group to disappear somewhere. Sonic found himself never quite being able to figure out where Shadow was going, and why he was so adamant about being alone.

On this day, however, the routine seemed to change.

When the last human left the studio for the weekend, the puppets rose to their feet as usual. Sonic praised Tails for his great performance in the Tornado before turning to watch Shadow leave, as he always did.

But he hadn't.

Shadow's lingering presence caught Sonic off-guard, but he didn't want to squander this opportunity to finally talk to him.

"Nice work today, Shads!" he called, waving a plush arm to catch the other's attention. He just hoped that Shadow wouldn't suddenly realise he hadn't left and get away before they could have a proper conversation.

Instead, Shadow folded his arms over his - woefully soft-looking - chest. "I don't need your approval. I know that I'm good at my job."

Despite himself, Sonic couldn't stop the dopey smile that stretched the cotton lining of his mouth. "I hear ya. Just wanted to extend an olive branch, so to speak."

"I'm not interested."

Sonic tried not to visibly deflate with disappointment. "Why not? If we're going to be working together, we may as well --"

"Not interested," Shadow reiterated harshly, and then he skulked out of the room to go… who knows where.

Sonic felt half-inclined to follow him, if only to sate his own curiosity. He glanced behind him; the others were busy stretching out their limbs and chatting amongst themselves to notice him slip away down the corridor.

The courtyard was Sonic's favourite place in the entire studio grounds. It was spacious, calm, and best of all, outside. He liked being outside. Except on rainy days when the rain would make his fabric smell like mildew and he'd be tossed into the dreaded washing machine.

For a while, he'd been unable to get to the courtyard outside of work hours; somehow a human had found the key that Sonic had swiped and relinquished it from him. 'Who left their key with the puppet?' the human had asked. The other humans shrugged their shoulders. Sonic tried his best to remain inanimate.

To see the door slightly ajar on this particular evening was a surprise. And it could only mean that Shadow had found a way outside, unbeknownst to everyone else. Had he also gotten a key? Was the courtyard where he was disappearing off to, after all this time?

Sonic had worried about rain, but the weather was clear and balmy. Crickets chirped in the grass. Streetlights cast a warm glow against the vermilion sunset. It was pleasant.

He looked around for a moment, soaking in the relaxing atmosphere, but he didn't notice Shadow immediately. That's when Sonic remembered a particular little corner tucked away just off to the side, where there was a swinging loveseat he liked to sit on sometimes. When he made his way over, he found Shadow sitting on that same loveseat, faced away from Sonic and fiddling with a box beside him.

"You come here often?" Sonic joked, and Shadow flinched, whipping around to glare at him.

"Why are you here?" Shadow growled.

"I like to come here sometimes," Sonic explained. Shadow seemed tense, his body moving in front of the box to obscure it from Sonic's view. "I used to come here a lot, but I lost the key…"

"Unsurprising," Shadow said, and then hesitated for a moment. "Did the humans take it?"

"Heh, yeah. I was never really good at hiding it. I tried hiding it in my head - y'know, the little space where they put their hand." Sonic tapped the little opening on the back of his head for emphasis. "But they found it pretty quickly. I was never able to get the key again after that."

He realised he was rambling and quickly shut his mouth. Shadow had his hand on his shoulder and a strange, disgruntled look on his face. Well, more disgruntled than usual.

"Hey, uh, is everything OK?" Sonic chanced, taking a step closer. Shadow bristled, the hand clasping down firmer as he leaned away slightly.

"I'm fine. If you've got nothing important to say, I'd like to be alone."

"Did you hurt yourself?"

"None of your business."

"What's that box next to you?" Ever stubborn, Sonic ignored Shadow's warnings and approached the loveseat, peering over the other puppet to inspect what he was trying to hide.

A sewing kit.

Shadow shot to his feet and pushed Sonic away harshly. Sonic stumbled, but the fence behind him caught his body before he could fall. He grasped his fingers into the chainlink, getting his bearings. Shadow looked mortified, like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't.

"Don't misunderstand," he spoke, voice wobbling just a little. "I'm taking stock of my sewing supplies. That's all."

Sonic's eyes fell to the shoulder that Shadow continued to protect with his hand.

"Do you have a tear?"

Shadow tensed, his free hand curling into a fist. He bared his teeth at Sonic, a warning, but Sonic refused to leave. Not if Shadow was damaged. Not if he could help.

"The humans can't find out. My - my material is far too expensive to be damaged. I have to fix it before they come back."

"So, what's stopping you?"

Shadow faltered. He looked down at the grass, and then flopped back down onto the loveseat.

"I can't reach it."

Sonic blinked, stepping closer. When Shadow didn't try to push him away this time, Sonic sat next to him and softly urged him to remove his hand. The tear was small, almost unnoticeable - but it was on the back of Shadow's shoulder, an awkward spot that he definitely could not mend by himself.

Sonic offered an encouraging smile. "Well, it's a good thing you taught me how to sew, then, right?"

Shadow turned to stare at him and Sonic couldn't help but laugh at how incredulous he looked in that moment.

"You're messing with me."

"I'm not!" Sonic said through his laughter, reaching out to take Shadow's hand in his own before the other could leave. "I'm not, I promise. Do you want me to help?"

"I…" Shadow paused, as if considering the offer. He stared down at their connected hands. "I don't have a choice, do I?"

"Not if you're adamant about the humans not finding out."

Shadow sighed. "Alright. Fine. There's some thread in the kit."

Sonic moved to Shadow's opposite side to rifle through the box, fishing out a spool of black thread (that Shadow specifically picked out; apparently the others weren't the correct shade, although he personally could not discern the difference) and threading it through a needle.

"Remember the stitch I taught you?"

"Yeah, don't worry." Sonic sat behind Shadow and gently poked at the tear in his fabric to make sure he got the right spot. "I'm gonna start. You ready?"

"You better not do a poor job," Shadow grumbled, but didn't move. "Let's get this over with."

Sonic wished Shadow would trust him a little more, but the puppet's pride had always been a big part of him, a part that Sonic found himself adoring, despite how snappy it made Shadow sometimes.

Sonic carefully pushed the needle into Shadow's fabric and pulled the thread through. Shadow didn't fidget or tell him to stop, so he kept going: again and again, in a steady rhythm, just as Shadow had taught him. Sonic weaved a zig-zag stitch along the seam, closing it up little by little. Shadow's stuffing had poked out, so he pushed it back in with his finger as he went.

He hadn't gotten much practice, and the stitching was just a bitwonky, but Sonic reckoned he'd done a good job. Besides, with how dark Shadow's fabric was, and how small the tear had been, the stitching was barely noticeable. He knotted the thread once, twice, and then snipped it free. With an "All done!" and an encouraging pat to Shadow's shoulder, Sonic returned the items back into the sewing kit.

Shadow moved his arm around to test Sonic's work, rotating his shoulder and stretching his hand towards the sky. Sonic peered back at the stitching to check, and to his delight (and personal pride) it hadn't budged at all. It looked pretty dang secure.

"I think I did a great job, if you don't mind me saying!"

"That remains to be seen." Shadow clicked the sewing kit shut and picked it up. "As long as the humans don't find out that I got damaged."

"Why are you so worried about that, anyway?" Sonic asked, following Shadow as he got up and began heading for the studio door. "We've all gotten ripped plenty of times, but the humans always take care of us."

"Of course you have," Shadow sneered, but his voice was weak, quiet. "I am made of high-quality materials. If the humans found out, they would surely be upset and flounder about as they figure out how to fix it. I was not made to be easily broken."

Sonic hummed thoughtfully as they stepped inside and Shadow locked the door behind them. "I don't doubt it, but you're a part of the family, y'know? They would want to look after you."

"…Thank you," Shadow said after a pensive moment. "For assisting me."

"Of course, Shads." The nickname came out softer than Sonic had intended.

"If you tell anyone I was damaged, I'll put you out of commission."

Despite the threat, Sonic found himself beaming. He'd long since learned that Shadow was all bark and no bite. Well, sometimes he bit. Those teeth were not to be messed with. Even so, Sonic nodded in agreement as they made their way back to the others.

Maybe Shadow needed a little more time to settle in, but he still had a place in the group. From the day he was lifted out of his box, he was welcomed with open arms, even if he didn't see it that way. Sonic made sure to remind Shadow as many times as it took that he was wanted. That he was loved.

And, well, since Shadow had trusted Sonic to help him with such a delicate problem, maybe Sonic's words had finally gotten through to him.

Sonic sure hoped so.

[moirasdolly]

˚ ⋆ﾟ୨୧ Vampire Heart ୨୧ ˚ ⋆ﾟ Arlecchino x Fem Reader

Synopsis: Running away from an arranged marriage seemed like it was the only option for you, so you set out in the middle of the night only to stumble across a mansion deep in the woods. A beautiful stranger opens the door for you before you plead your case to seek shelter in her home. You faint as the harsh conditions from the night catch up to you and you awaken in a bed that ain’t yours with the same beautiful stranger tending to you. There’s something off about her though…

Contains: NSFW (men and minors dni), graphic depictions of blood sucking, hurt/comfort (only slight angst).

Listening to ♪ ིྀ: Minerva - Deftones

Notes: I’ve been wanting to write a vamp!arle fic since FOREVERRRR and i’m finally getting to it!! This is just a quick intro so that I could get some ideas flowing ^_^ I don’t have exact plot points for what I want to happen, butttt i have a few ideas. There will definitely be a sexy blood sucking chapter though… so be prepared

❤︎ Chapter 1: Feverish

Shivers racked your body as you stumbled through the deep forest. A thick fog was beginning to settle, and it was just your luck that rain started to pour down as well. “S-Shit…” You mumble out, raising your hands above your head in a futile attempt to shield yourself from the drizzles of rain rolling down your body. By now you were soaked straight to the bone and it was getting harder and harder to trek through the foliage. Your limbs felt heavy and your limbs grew tired as you pushed on the best you could.

You were beginning to think that maybe running away from home was not the greatest idea in the world. Sure your parents wanted to marry you off to some guy twice your age just for riches and status, but in your delirious state, you thought to yourself that you would have taken that situation over what you were going through now. Your fingers were numb from carrying heavy bags full of clothes, other necessities, and a small amount of food and water to make it on your own. You weren’t quite sure where you were going when you left in the middle of the night, and you definitely didn’t have any sort of plan, but in the moment you just couldn’t take it anymore.

The hope of finding a place to rest for the night dwindled down by the second. That is until you stumbled into a large clearing, revealing a huge mansion. It was breathtaking… Black bricks made up the facade and gold accents were sprinkled throughout the building. The rooftop came into steep gables, signaling the different rooms in the house. There were few windows though, most of them dark, but a few of them emanated a soft yellow glow. You assumed someone must be home, but you wondered what they were doing awake this late at night.

The dark architecture filled your vision, and you knew it was shady, but you were willing to take the risk. You just missed the feeling of being warm, cozy, and most of all, dry. You were willing to stay in a place like this even just for the night, as long as you had shelter from the harsh outside conditions.

As you approached the intimidating structure you could have sworn you saw a figure in the window of the highest floor. The figure disappeared just as quickly as you saw it though. A sickening feeling was beginning to settle into your stomach as you made your way up to the door and wrapped your frozen fingers around the large, intricate door knocker. You knocked three times, the sound of rough iron clanging against the door echoed into the cold night. Moments later, you heard shuffling behind the door and the sound of heels approaching. The door creaked open, revealing a tall woman with a slender figure dressed in a grey, black, and red suit. You found it odd considering it was the middle of the night and she was still fully dressed, but you pushed that thought away before opening your blue-tinged lips to speak.

“I know, it’s the middle of the night, and I’m a stranger…” you started, “but I’m in dire need of somewhere to stay and-“ You couldn’t even stay upright any longer. You fell to the floor with a loud thud before you could even finish explaining yourself, and the last thing your fuzzy brain could remember was being lifted into the arms of the beautiful stranger.

Your eyes fluttered open groggily as you looked around the dark room you had been situated in. It was clear this wasn’t your own room, but you couldn’t remember anything that had happened. The last thing you remembered was fainting at the doorstep of the large castle-like home you had encountered.

Soft, cloud-like pillows were placed beneath your head and you were enveloped in silky blankets that cascaded over your body. Somehow you had been changed into dry clothes as well. The soft scent of roses wafted through the air and you almost felt like you were in heaven. At least that’s what you would have thought if a headache wasn’t brewing from the rough night you had. You tried to lift your tired body up with shaky arms before falling back into the bed again.

“Ah, you’ve awoken.” A deep voice calls to you from the shadows. Too tired to move your head in the direction of the voice, your eyes scan the room before landing on the woman whose home you were in. “What time is it?” Your voice was raspy and sore, you knew it would turn into a full blown fever in no time. “A little past 4 in the morning, you were out for some time.” The woman answered before swiftly moving to the bedside.

She pressed a cold, gloved hand to your forehead and it almost offered a bit of relief to your growing fever. She clicked her tongue before standing up straight again, “This is no good. You’ll have to stay here until you’re better.” You felt guilt bubbling up in your stomach as she offered you a place to stay, you had originally not even planned to stay past the morning, but she insisted. Your protests just fell upon deaf ears because she was not listening to a single word you said.

You gave up a while ago once your words had just become babbles of incoherent thoughts. Your feverish state began to catch up to you and you were weaving in and out of consciousness. The whole time, the woman beside you hadn’t budged though. She stayed glued to the bedside in a big comfortable chair she moved to be closer to you. If you asked her why she was seemingly so attached to you she’d brush it off and say she couldn’t watch someone be so sickly in her presence without doing anything about it, but in the back of her mind it was because she felt a flutter in her heart every time she looked at your sleeping figure. She couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was though. Perhaps it was your full, blushing cheeks, or your pouty lips, or your soft hands that tugged at the blankets to pull them closer as you tossed and turned in your sleep.

She snapped out of her thoughts as she heard you shuffling around, you were growing restless due to the fever that had worsened in just an hour. She retrieved a cool wash cloth and placed it over your forehead in an attempt to cool you off before soothing your hair down gently. “At least try to sleep soundly, dear.” She spoke in a low voice, not wanting to wake you up fully. You weren’t sure if you were hallucinating or not, but when she spoke you saw the glint of sharp fangs in her mouth. And if you looked closely, you could see the soft glowing of red whenever your eyes met hers.

Everything was a bit weird to you, but you didn’t question it due to your feverish state. The last thing you could recall before falling back asleep for the rest of the morning were the two little dots that resembled a bite mark on the right side of her neck. If you didn’t know any better you would have thought she was a blood-sucking creature that you had only heard about in folk tales.

“Sleep well, dear.” The beautiful stranger hummed before standing from her seat and making her way out of the room. She vanished from the room swiftly and you were left with nothing but sleep to consume you in no time.

[magicshopaholic]

Words Unsaid (Jungkook x OC)

Summary: Jungkook has something he wants to ask you, but the timing just never seems to sit right.

Pairing: Jungkook x OC

Genre: Fluff

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 7.3 K

Warnings: none

A/N: This took longer than expected to post (but a surprisingly short amount of time to write). Savour it, for the angst will be back in full force next fic :D Takes place a couple of weeks after Unfinished Business and can be read standalone.

Tagging: @bbl32 @ggukkieland @bangtannoonalvg @pb-n-juju @juciu @jeoncookie-bts @quarter-life-crisis2 @dreaming-with-happiness @meirkive  @faearchives @margopinkerton @sumzysworld @purpleseoul7 @kflixnet (italics cannot be tagged. If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment or ask)

Listen to: "thinking out loud" by ed sheeran

jungkook masterlist | main masterlist

The sun is near setting when lunch comes to a natural end. Namjoon places his credit card on the bill out of habit and, somewhat conscious that it’s not just the two of them here, Jungkook drops his on top of it.

“All good, kid.” Namjoon good-naturedly flicks Jungkook’s credit card off the bill just before the waiter picks it up.

Feeling Lia’s eyes on him, vaguely amused, Jungkook feels his ears heat up and quickly pockets his credit card. “What’s your plan for the rest of the day?” he asks, desperate to change the topic.

“Not much.” He shrugs. “Probably pick up some stuff at this store we saw earlier today, then maybe a walk down the Han if it gets cooler…” He turns slightly as Kaya returns to her seat, fluffing out her hair a bit.

“Seoul has never been this warm, has it?” she remarks. “I’m glad I cut my hair before I came here.”

“It should rain soon,” answers Lia, in her accented English. While her grasp on the language hadn’t necessarily been a surprise to Jungkook, the way it sounded - and how much he liked it - definitely was. She hadn’t ever spoken much English around him, for there was never much of a need, but when Kaya visited and they’d finally met, Jungkook discovered he was obsessed with her English accent. It made her sound older, unattainable and - ironically – more Korean.

“Maybe it will,” says Namjoon, nodding and looking out the glass windows at the sunlight.

“Maybe it will while you’re walking down the Han river,” points out Jungkook. 

“Looking forward to it.”

“Oh, that reminds me - can we make a detour home before we head to the market?” Kaya asks him. “I need to pick up my power bank. My phone’s almost dead.”

Namjoon nods. “Sure. You guys need a ride?” he asks Jungkook and Lia.

“Oh -” They exchange a look, for they were dropped by a company car after Jungkook finished filming a promo. “Actually, yeah,” says Lia, nodding. “We also need to stop by, uh, Jungkook’s house for a minute. You’ll want to change, I guess?”

Jungkook nods mutely, his neck getting hot again. He avoids Namjoon’s eyes; the older member’s subtle questioning a couple of days ago, about how serious is this getting, had been one thing. That, coupled with the abrupt way he and Lia had stopped talking when Jungkook had returned from the men’s room earlier during lunch, made him uneasily conscious that something was still unsaid.

They head out of the restaurant, waiting until Namjoon’s car is brought out by the valet before ducking inside quickly, Kaya in the driver’s seat and Namjoon in the passenger seat next to her. Jungkook notices a few phones out in the open and pointed towards them as they drive away.

“See you tomorrow!” Lia waves at them as they drive away from the porch of Jungkook’s building in Hannam-dong, where his new penthouse sits tucked into the top floor. As the car disappears around a corner, both of them turn around and head inside together.

In the lift, Jungkook watches the numbers increase, his hands in his pockets and his bottom lip between his teeth. The words are there, somewhere, in moments at the tip of his tongue and in others, so far away that they may as well be someone else’s.

“Hey.”

He’s jerked out of his reverie. “Yeah.”

Lia is looking at him, frowning slightly. “Everything okay? You’ve barely said two words since we left.”

“I’m fine,” he answers as the lift stops and they step out, the doors opening right in front of his apartment. “I just, uh…” He pats his pockets and pauses. “... forgot my keys. I think. Shit.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she mutters easily, reaching into her small sling bag for her own keyring and selecting the shiniest one. “This is when it helps to have a spare set with someone else,” she points out.

Jungkook nods sheepishly and steps aside so she can unlock the door to his home. “Actually, Lia…” He takes a deep breath as Namjoon’s face swims to the forefront of his mind, the familiar raised eyebrow and chin tilted upward that, irritatingly knowing but unwilling to give him the answer. No, he would want Jungkook to come up with the answer himself. 

He clears his throat as Lia pauses. “Yeah?”

“Um, I was wondering -” He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Just say it. Say it. He makes the mistake of glancing at her again, her raised eyebrows and - to his slight anxiety - hopeful expression.

Shit.

“Would you, um… do you think you would you like to…” 

Come on now, Jungkook, Namjoon would say sternly. Say it already.

“... try a beef bulgogi tonight? I know we usually do pizza on Sunday nights but I saw this recipe online and I really wanted to try it. Plus, we won’t even have to shop - we have that fillet in the freezer so part of the work is really already done, if you think about it…”

He’s rambling, he knows, but it’s only to try and distract himself from the annoyance at himself as well as the brief but clear disappointment in her expression. Her shoulders fall slightly and she bites her lip, turning back to the door and pushing it open halfway.

“Beef bulgogi sounds great,” she says finally, looking up at him after a moment’s hesitation, and giving him a small smile. “Thanks.”

He follows her inside, still deflated. Lia goes straight to the fridge for a bottle of cold water while he heads into his room, shedding his t-shirt on the way. Turning on the bathroom light, he grabs his facewash from the wall-mounted shelf, half-stocked with haircare products, face scrubs, masks, serums and a tub of scrunchies and claw clips. A Dior perfume he’d gifted her earlier this year was also there next to his own Calvin Klein cologne. 

Realising he’s been staring at her belongings for over a minute with emulsified facewash on his face, he quickly scrubs it off and hurries out, passing by her chest of drawers next to the closets. 

Jungkook wishes he wasn’t such a coward. He wishes he had the exact right words and that his mouth moved on its own to deliver the message to her. She’d helped him set up the apartment when he’d moved in last month; most of her belongings are here, she returns here more often than not after work, half the groceries in the pantry are stocked by her. She has a set of keys, she uses his extra parking space - but none of it matters as long as it’s still Jungkook’s house. 

In the kitchen, Lia is standing by the counter with a bowl of watermelon in front of her, scrolling on her phone. She looks up when he enters. 

“I cut the other half that was in the fridge,” she informs him. “Rest of it is inside.”

He swallows. “Thanks.”

Jungkook doesn’t know what he would do without her. The house feels far too big and empty when she isn’t around and he wishes there were some way for her to get that message without him having to spell it out.

But if you do spell it out, comes Namjoon’s voice again, what’s the worst that could happen.

She could say no and then I could die, he thinks, shuddering.

He stands on the opposite side of the counter and leans over to examine the pink fruit. Lia raises an eyebrow and pops a piece into his mouth. 

“Wow. Sweet,” he comments, voice slightly muffled. 

She half-chuckles and nods, going back to her phone and taking a piece as well.

Say it. But is this really the moment? Does there need to be a moment? What would that moment even look like? What would she want that moment to -

“Kook,” says Lia, slowly placing her phone down. “I was thinking… I’ve been coming over here after work the last few days. And I’ll probably be here tomorrow as well, so…” She bites her lip.

“Yes,” whispers Jungkook breathlessly. If Lia were to ask the question - nothing like it. No chance of rejection, no scope for awkwardness. Of course, if any of the guys got wind of the fact that she had been the one to ask, they wouldn’t let him live it down, especially Jimin. Suddenly, he half-hopes she isn’t asking.

“Do you think it would be weird if, you know…”

Holy shit. Screw Jimin and his opinions. Despite a crappy first date a year ago, if this is really how far they’ve come since then, he should consider himself the luckiest man in the world. Unexpectedly, Jungkook’s heart begins to race. 

“… if I went home on Monday evening? It’s been a while and I have an important meeting on Tuesday and all my blazers are at home so in a way, I have to…”

Jungkook nods mutely, barely hearing her, for his heart is hammering so loudly he can hear it in his teeth. It occurs to him that Lia might have been anticipating the same question and subsequently felt the same disappointment, and it only serves to make him feel worse.

“… take my car, too. Jungkook?”

He looks up warily, irrationally worried his shame might be written on his forehead for her to see, possibly triggering her to pull the plug on this entire thing, this whole relationship, to save herself the embarrassment of dating a silly pop star who can’t string six words together -

“Hm?”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I’m fine,” he chokes. “Thanks for the, uh, the fruit.”

Lia raises her eyebrows, but there’s a flash of knowing in her eyes. Not wanting to decipher it, for there’s no telling where his mind will take him, he shakes his head slightly and leans forward, kissing her on the cheek.

It doesn’t end there. Later that evening, Jungkook is still reeling from his horrendous inability to pluck up the courage to ask his girlfriend a simple question. The general mood between them seems to have gone back to normal, somewhat, but it nags at the corner of his mind.

They are heading to the executive floor gym in his building, accessible only to the handful of residents on the top floor, when another opportunity seemingly presents itself.

It’s a glorious workout in one of the best gyms in the country; in fact, Jungkook is rather upfront about it being one of the main reasons he chose to buy a property in this particular building in Hannam-dong. Towards the end of a particularly difficult set of reps on the bench press station, Jungkook looks up to see a face, upside down and hovering above him.

“Shit!” he gasps, gripping the barbell tightly so it doesn’t fall on him. 

Eunwoo grins. “What’s up? Wasn’t expecting to see you here today.”

“I could’ve died,” points out Jungkook, sitting up and giving him a friendly dap. “No, Lia wanted to work out, too, and it’s been a, uh… somewhat stressful day.”

“Yeah?” Eunwoo, also sweating and glowing, looks around the gym with his hands on his hips. “Lia is here? Oh, there she is…” He nods at the treadmills where she’s jogging fast, AirPods in and the rest of the world shut out.

They chat for a bit about nothing in particular, catching their breath. Somewhere during the conversation, while they’re at the water station and filling up tiny glasses with fruit-infused ice water, Jungkook wonders if the time has truly come to pick another’s brain. Eunwoo is a good friend and they’ve known each other a while, but it would be the first time he’s actively confided in someone else about his love life. From his experience, it could go either way.

While he’s pondering this, Eunwoo nods and flashes a smile at something over his shoulder.

“Hey, guys.” Lia walks over and pours herself a glass. Her skin pale and glowing, her cheeks flushed lusciously. The ends of her high ponytail stick to her damp collarbones and Jungkook bites his lip without thinking, ridiculously attracted to her at the moment.

“Noona, do you agree with JK’s plan of building a home gym?” Eunwoo asks, seamlessly continuing their discussion. “It’s going to be so much maintenance of equipment,” he tells him, shaking his head.

“Really?” Lia turns to Jungkook, frowning. “When did that happen? I thought you were happy with this gym.”

“I am - and I’m not planning on building a home gym,” he clarifies, suddenly anxious with both sets of eyes on him. “I was just discussing the merits of possibly having one.”

“Such as?”

“Well… privacy, for one. I know the building has good security but they're also fairly lax with allowances,” he points out, not wanting to specify the incident last week that had prompted this train of thought, when he was half-certain he’d spotted someone pointing their phone at him and Lia. 

“Allowances? You mean guests?” Eunwoo wrinkles his nose. “They don’t allow guests in here.”

“Yes, they do.”

“No, they don’t. They don’t allow anybody but residents in the gym.”

There’s a brief but painful pause following his words. 

“They do, actually,” says Lia.

“I don’t think so.”

“Yes, they do,” adds Jungkook tightly, glaring at Eunwoo and moving his eyes deliberately in Lia’s direction, hoping to God he’ll drop it.

Eunwoo frowns slowly, apparently working this out. “What?” he mutters, shaking his head at Jungkook. “No, I’m just saying… wait, how are you so sure?”

“Because I’m technically a guest,” says Lia lightly.

“You are?” Eunwoo raises his eyebrows. “But I thought you were - oh.” To Jungkook’s horror, a blush creeps up his friend’s face. Lia goes still next to him and it takes every ounce of Jungkook’s strength to not turn in her direction.

For the next few seconds or so, the three of them stand there in silence, scarcely making a movement. 

“Excuse me? May I?”

“Yes! Of course, of course -” Jungkook immediately blurts out while Eunwoo practically trips over himself to take a step back and make way for another patron. 

“I’m going to stretch and cool down for a bit,” says Lia, touching Jungkook’s shoulder. “How far along are you?”

“Oh, I still have a bit to finish,” he answers, a bit apologetically. “I was going to box for a bit before ending with cardio.”

“That’s fine, I'll just head back h- uh, to your place and shower… if that’s okay?”

Not least because she hasn’t needed to ask such a question in months, Jungkook nods wordlessly. She gives him a small smile and moves away, and Jungkook watches her leave before turning back around to see Eunwoo giving him a look.

“Shut up,” he mutters.

Eunwoo chuckles as they head over to the boxing bag. “Man, I am so sorry about that. I really thought you’d asked her to move in with you - I thought part of the reason you bought a new house was because you wanted her to move in. You were asking about bathrooms with his-and-her sinks, man. What happened?”

“Okay, first of all, I only asked if you’ve ever seen one in real life - not that I wanted one,” he corrects immediately, strapping on his gloves while Eunwoo gets behind the bag, ready to hold it. 

“And the other thing?”

“I’m working on it,” mutters Jungkook, going into stance and holding his hands up. “I just want to do it right. Make sure it’s a good time, that I’m not hurrying anything - that kind of thing.”

Eunwoo hums and nods. “Well, if it helps, she didn’t seem freaked out. If anything, she looked a little annoyed.”

Jungkook freezes. “She did? She looked annoyed - wait, really? Are you serious?”

His eyes widen. “Wh- no. Not - not annoyed like that. Not like a pissed off annoyed, more like a… like a chill annoyed.” When Jungkook says nothing, he shakes his head. “You know what? Don’t worry about it. Maybe it is too soon. Or maybe it isn’t,” he amends quickly. “What do I know? You know my last three relationships lasted, like, four months each - so I’m probably not the best person to be giving you any kind of advice.”

“That’s the most airtight thing you’ve said so far,” mutters Jungkook. “Alright, I’m coming in.” Waiting a moment for Eunwoo to grip the bag, he cocks his elbow back and punches it.

—

Despite his deadly faux pas, Eunwoo had inadvertently provided Jungkook with a rather helpful bit of direction. Perhaps it is time for him to lean on a friend for advice, but Eunwoo was also right that he is not one of them, not with his flighty flings and lack of depth in them. The advice matters and so does the friend, prompting Jungkook to ask himself: which of his friends is the expert on the opposite of short-term flings?

“Namjoon hyung!”

Namjoon stops in his tracks at the sound of his name and turns, waiting for Jungkook to catch up with him. 

“Oh, thanks,” says Jungkook, taking a cigarette from the pack Namjoon offers him and leaning forward so he can light it. “Thanks for getting us the evening off, by the way.”

“Kaya is leaving this weekend,” is all Namjoon says in response, shrugging.

“Right.” Jungkook nods, taking a drag and blowing it out, wondering briefly if he should care that they might be seen smoking right outside the Hybe building. “Won’t this make you a couple minutes late, though? If you want to make the best of the next few days?”

Namjoon chuckles. “I don’t want to smoke inside the house.”

“Uh-huh. Speaking of which…” He exhales, suddenly nervous. “I was hoping for some advice.” He clears his throat. “Regarding… relationships.”

Namjoons raises his eyebrows but says nothing else. “M-hm.”

“I have reason to believe,” he begins slowly, “that Lia might want me to ask her to move in with me.”

“Okay.”

Jungkook pauses, searching his leader’s face for a hint. Finding none, he continues. “Well… I want to ask her. But I also don’t want her to feel like I’m asking her just because she wants me to ask her. And I also don’t want to mess it up.”

“How would you mess it up?”

“I don’t know… maybe I’m completely off track and she doesn’t want to move in with me at all? Maybe she thinks it’s too soon?”

Namjoon nods, hearing him out. Then he shakes his head. “Well, personally, I don’t think that’s the case.”

“What isn’t? You think she wants to move in?” Jungkook’s momentarily relief is interrupted by a horrifying thought. “Oh, my God - did she say something to you? Yesterday, at brunch, when I went to the men’s room?”

“Jungkook, you were gone for two minutes.”

He’s about to argue but stops himself. He knows Lia and she is hardly the type to secretly vent her feelings to his friends behind his back, hoping it will get back to him. No, she’s more straightforward than that.

Somewhat satisfied, he takes a different turn. “Okay, let’s get down to it, then. How did you ask Kaya to move in?”

“Well…” Namjoon frowns thoughtfully. “Actually, I didn’t.”

“You… what?” Jungkook squints. “Wait, so… you didn’t ask? You both just knew, telepathically, when to start living together?” he asks incredulously, thinking privately that it could just be believable.

“No,” says Namjoon patiently, chuckling again and flicking some ash off his cigarette. “I didn’t ask because I didn’t have to. Where else is she supposed to live when she comes to Seoul? Where am I supposed to live when I go to see her?”

“Yeah… okay, but… well, would you say you live together?” he presses. “Or do you just, like, crash at each other’s place when you visit?”

“Well, we definitely don’t crash at each other’s place,” he mutters. “Maybe we did right in the beginning? I guess I’d say we live apart, but it’s only because we have to. I don’t know - when she came to Seoul for work last year while I was in service, she stayed at Hannam even though her aunt lives in the city, too.” He shrugs. “If that helps.”

“Huh.” Jungkook considers this. “So, like, do you guys ‘go home’ or do you go back to ‘your place’?”

“Home,” he answers casually, not skipping a beat. “Even her apartment is home. ‘Home’ is what you make it, to a large extent. It’s a place of comfort - an apartment is only part of that,” he says wisely. “I feel more at home in her studio apartment in London with her than at Hannam by myself. The people make the home - and that’s for you to decide.”

Jungkook stares, feeling his cigarette burn away in his hand. “That’s really not the kind of thing I’m looking for, hyung,” he states, before dropping his face in his hand.

Namjoon clicks his tongue and stubs his cigarette on the tray atop the trash can next to him. “Don’t overthink it,” he says, clapping him on the shoulder. “Go about it logically: she’s been your girlfriend for six or seven months now, you bought a new place which is significantly bigger than your old one and she’s in her thirties, meaning she’s most likely thinking long-term.” 

Jungkook gazes at Namjoon’s raised eyebrows, quite certain he’s meant to pick up some meaning out of this. “So…”

“So… if you’re worried she might say no…”

“Chances are… she probably won’t?”

Namjoon grins and nods. “Exactly. Just be yourself, be genuine, be honest - and remember you’re both together for a reason. And I think - I think - she has a thing for you, too,” he adds seriously.

“One can only hope,” he mutters, albeit slightly mollified. “I really don’t want to mess this up.”

Namjoon observes him - for too long. For a moment, it seems as though he’s about to say something that makes Jungkook’s stomach jolt unpleasantly, but at the last second, he shakes his head.

“Impossible to mess it up. Honestly,” he says reassuringly, and Jungkook almost believes him. “It’s a part of the journey and if you think she’s expecting it, just take the plunge. Don’t add unnecessary pressure by trying to make it perfect.”

While the last bit simply isn’t in Jungkook’s DNA, he nods anyway. 

—

“Damn it.” 

Lia doesn’t look up from the email she’s writing, despite Dal’s repeated exclamations from the kitchen. Finally, he sticks his head out around the door.

“Did you know the faucet is leaking?”

“Yes,” she mutters, still not looking away from her screen.

“And did you know it’s dripping out of the sink zone and onto the floor?”

“Yeah?”

“And did you know it’s fucking disgusting?”

Lia sighs and finally turns her head to glance at him. “Yes, I know. I mopped it up this morning.”

Dal steps out, frowning. “So this much water leaked in the last six hours?” When Lia nods, he sighs heavily and trudges into the living room, falling onto the sofa. “I suppose we can text the landlord but I don’t know what good that will do.”

“Probably as much as it did when we told him about the seepage in the bathroom ceiling.”

“Yeah. Didn’t realise the kind of shoulder strength you need to baste upwards.” A moment later, he chuckles. “Helped that there were three of us there, though. Jungkook was really looking for any excuse to be around you back then, wasn’t he?”

Without meaning to, Lia feels a smile creep up her face at the memory. “It was cute,” she says, slightly defensive. “And we really needed the extra hands, especially to clean up.”

“Oh, sure.” There’s a comfortable silence, the only sound being the clicking of Lia’s keyboard. “Speaking of,” he speaks, and his tone is slightly different, “I’m surprised to see you here.”

Lia doesn’t look up, but she’s certain she knows where he’s going with this. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. You haven’t been around much.”

“You think so?”

“M-hm. In fact, I was starting to wonder if you’d moved out or something and I missed the memo.”

“You were still paying only half the rent, though, weren’t you?”

“Lia.”

“‘Sup.”

From the corner of her eye, she sees a movement and ducks out of habit.

“Lee-lee,” he says again, and she finally meets his gaze.

“I know what you’re getting at, and no,” she says dryly, “no updates on that front. I’m still your roommate for the foreseeable future.”

Dal raises his eyebrows. “Okay.”

Lia turns back to her laptop but doesn’t resume her typing. “What?”

“What what?”

“You’re still looking at me.”

“No. I’m just looking in your general direction.”

She gives him a look. “Just say it.”

“I thought you were moving in with Jungkook.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because he told me last time he came over that he wanted you to move in with him.”

Lia scoffs. “No way did he say that. Liar.”

“Fine, he didn’t use those exact words,” he admits, rolling his eyes. “But he just happened to mention that his new place is bigger, that the gym is fantastic, that it has a really good running trail or something…”

“Maybe he was just making conversation?”

“... and how much closer it is to the Hybe office.”

He works at Hybe, too, technically. The words are on the tip of her tongue, but she can’t deflect anymore; Dal will see right through it. She sighs and puts her laptop away.

“What do you want me to say?” she asks steadily. “We aren’t living together. It’s not the end of the world.”

“I’m not saying it is, at all.” He holds up his hands. “Do you want to, though?”

Lia is silent for a moment. “He needs to ask first. But… yeah, I guess. Could be fun. We’ll save on a lot of fuel.”

“Ooh, stop, I’m swooning.”

She flashes him an embarrassed sort of smile. “You know what I mean. We basically do live together already - but this is a big deal for Jungkook. He’s never done the long-term relationship, adult couple milestone thing before. The last thing I want to do is scare him off.”

Dal nods thoughtfully. “Well, hopefully it’ll go better than your last adult couple milestone thing.”

She snorts, covering her face. “Hey, to be fair, I did move in with him,” she points out. “Kind of.”

“You lasted less than a month before you were back here.”

“Yeah. God, he was such a manchild. Can’t believe I was ever attracted to him.”

“I told you he had an asshat kind of face. But you didn’t listen. Didn’t he have a shrine to his ex-girlfriend in the bathroom or something?”

“It was a couple of bottles of her shampoo and lotion, not a shrine,” she corrects him, “but, sort of. He was so blown away when I asked him to get rid of it - like, sue me, I don’t want to live with my boyfriend and sentimental haircare products belonging to his ex. It just goes to show, you never know enough about your partner until you actually share a living space together.”

“You think there’s more to Jungkook? Because I like him for you, honestly. But he seems to be a more…” Dal grimaces, trying to find the word, “... what you see is what you get… kind of person.”

“That’s a good thing,” she remarks. “Means there’s no lying, no games. None of that shit.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Well, it’s good you know what you want. How long are we planning to wait for him to pop the question?”

“We are not waiting for anything. I, on the other hand…” 

It’s a good question, unfortunately, one that Lia has deliberately tried not to think about because there’s simply no correct answer.

“... will take things as they come.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

She narrows her eyes at her oldest friend, recognising both teasing masking genuine concern. “I’m not going to pressure Jungkook. And I’m not going to get my hopes up either,” she states, trying to ignore the quiet tugging at her heart and standing up, stretching.

“Hey, just say the word and I will -“ Dal makes a flailing kind of gesture and flexes his triceps, “- whip him into shape.”

“Oh, really? Not only will it probably be evenly matched, but who’s going to help you both carry cartons of beer into each other’s houses if you’re both maimed?” She taps her temple sarcastically.

“Well, you’ll be a resident in one of our houses at any given time so I guess we’ll be looking at you.” Dal shrugs in satisfaction as Lia chuckles and starts heading inside her bedroom, considering a shower before bed.

“Oi, Lia.” 

Lia turns in her doorway, recognising the subtle change in tone once again. It wasn’t surprising that Dal and Jungkook got along easily enough; despite her boyfriend’s initial reservations, most of which were based on Dal’s gender and inopportune timing, he had eventually moved past it to begin actually enjoying his company. Oh, he would never admit it, but Lia had woken up more than once in her own bed, alone, while hearing two male voices laughing in the living room with the television on.

As for Dal, the only thing he had needed to say was “Lee-lee, for once, you’ve found a good boy.”

Therefore, while Lia prefers to handle her relationships herself, she recognises the value of her oldest friend’s opinion.

“I just want to let you know,” he begins seriously, and she feels the muscles in her face go slack. He bites his lip. “I just wanted to let you know,” he repeats, “that if Jungkook has a shrine to his ex in his house, you can always move back in here.”

There’s relief, and Lia doesn’t want to admit there’s relief. “Shut up,” she mutters, turning back around as Dal laughs at his own joke behind her.

It’s not the greatest comfort, but Lia uses it as such after that. Worst case, I move back in with Dal, she thinks. We stay roommates until we’re eighty, when either I die first from stress about work or he does driving his car like a maniac. Jungkook brings a carton of beer to the funeral and shares it with whichever one of us is still alive.

It’s a mildly depressing train of thought, especially when she imagines her eighty year old self heading back to her apartment while seventy-seven year old Jungkook, in his infinite wisdom, still hasn’t asked her to move in with him.

Nearly a week later, Lia has successfully kept her desires to herself, while Jungkook has continued trying to pretend he isn’t thinking about it just as much.

“Remind me again why we’re going to this club?” she asks him as they walk to his car in the basement parking. “It doesn’t really sound like your scene.”

“It isn’t,” he admits. “But the DJ tonight is a friend of a friend… of an acquaintance, who’s also kind of an ex-colleague.” He wrinkles his nose. “I wouldn’t normally go but he helped me out during the production of my debut album and I accidentally told him I owed him.”

“Ah. Mistake number one.”

“It might be. You look quite club-ready for someone who doesn’t really enjoy clubs either,” he remarks, playfully smacking her backside. “Leather pants and everything.”

“Faux leather,” she corrects, leaning over and bumping his hip with hers. “I figured I may as well look the part of a popstar’s girlfriend. Plus,” she adds after a moment, as they climb into the car and begin strapping in, “it’s the only party outfit I have at your place.”

Predictably, Jungkook freezes for a moment before clumsily buckling himself in. He doesn’t meet her eyes and swallows as he looks ahead.

“By the way, I hear the gin martinis at this club are to die for,” he declares, completely transparent. “Did you know, the martini is one of the top five drinks people order on a first date?”

Abrupt subject change coupled with a random fact that doesn’t sound completely true; Jungkook is nervous. It’s exasperating and endearing all at once.

“That’s… interesting. Maybe you should’ve invited your single friends tonight. Or if this DJ is an ex-colleague, at least the ones in your group.”

“What, all two of them?”

“Isn’t it three?”

“I don’t think so.” Jungkook shrugs as they pull out of Hannam Hill. “Or maybe it is. I don’t know. Yoongi hyung isn’t very forthcoming about his dating life and I’m too afraid to ask.”

Lia chortles as they turn into the main road, reaching for her party clutch for her phone, when she realises…

“Oh, no,” she mutters under breath.

“What?”

“I, uh…” She bites her lip, internally swearing at herself. “I was moving stuff from my regular bag to the clutch and I forgot… you know what, can we make a quick detour to my apartment? It’s on the way.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is. If you take a right after the signal then you can take the parallel road to the church at the end of my street.”

“That’s not the same road - and come on,” he whines, his shoulders falling. “I don’t want to take a detour. What did you even forget? Power bank? Because my phone is fully charged.”

“It’s not a power bank - look, it’s kind of important, Jungkook. It’ll take, like, five extra minutes.”

“But -”

“Kook!”

“What? What did you even forget that’s so important? Is it make-up or something? Because you look -”

“It’s tampons, Jungkook.”

“It’s -”

“Tampons,” she repeats. “And I don’t want to stop at a drugstore because they may not have the exact brand that I use and most of the others chafe… down there.”

There’s a few seconds of silence while Jungkook stares out of the windshield as the car zooms down the road, his ears turning red.

“Which signal was it again?”

True to her word, they reach her three-storey apartment building a few minutes later and jog up the stairs together.

“I swear, I just need to pick up a couple of extras,” she promises him. “The last time I was caught without any on me and then I had to borrow one and it was just the worst time I - oh, my God!”

Lia gasps as she stops in her tracks in the doorway of her apartment, Jungkook right next to her. 

“Is that -”

“Water,” she sighs, shaking her head. “Shit, it came into the living room? I thought we fixed that damn leak,” she mutters. She places her hands on her hips and looks up at Jungkook.

“Well?”

Jungkook looks blank. “Well… what?”

“Well… I’m going to have to wade in there,” she says slowly, already dreading it. “Do you want to come?”

“Ordinarily, I would love to because that sounds so fun, but these are Balenciaga.” He raises his right leg to show her his shoes, mimicking her position until Lia looks away.

“Alright. Wait here then,” she tells him, before gingerly placing one heeled foot into the water and cringing in anticipation. It reaches ankle deep, missing the hem of her pants only due to the height of her heels. With no specific attachment to her shoes, she takes a couple of more hesitant steps.

“Ugh, I can hear the faucet dripping from here,” she grumbles. “Sure you want to just wait out there?”

“Totally. You’re doing great, though, baby.” He grimaces as she walks further in. “Is it cold? It looks cold.”

“No, it’s room temperature. I’m just glad it hasn’t reached the sofa or the cushions or anything in the - whoa!” Lia grabs the arm of the chair beside her as she slips, thankfully saving her ankles as her knee breaks the fall.

There’s a sound of splashing before Jungkook is right next to her a second too late. “Shit, you okay?”

“Uh, yeah. No injuries, I think.” She twists to see him kneeling next to her. “What happened to your Balenciagas?”

It seems to have occurred to him only now. “Oh…” He looks down at his shoes, now submerged. “I can try blow drying them, probably?”

“Probably.” She tries to hide a smile before giving up. “Take them off before they get any more damaged, though.”

He takes her advice this time and they both rid themselves of their shoes, tossing them on the chair before splashing their way into the kitchen.

Jungkook whistles. “Wow, that’s some leak,” he remarks, following her as she falls to her knees to get a good look at the thin but steady stream of water spilling from a crack in the pipe. “Is this the only leak?” he wonders out loud before pressing his hand against the crack so the water suddenly stops.

“No, there’s a small one here, too,” she answers, squinting at something on the other side of the pipe, a little higher up. “It’s only a few drops out of this one but it’s still bad enough.”

“Maybe we can -” Jungkook grunts and tugs at the pipe, “- wrench it into place? To block this crack?”

“Doubtful. It’s a really old pipe, too, so I’m afraid it might break.”

“It’s metal - can metal break?”

“I mean… yeah? I guess? Look, it’s all rusted up here.”

“Oh, yeah…”

In his effort to look, Jungkook’s hand slips off the crack and the flow of the water resumes. 

“Okay, this can’t go on - we need to block this for now so we can get rid of this fucking flood,” she decides, noting in worry how the water level is slowly rising. “And I’m calling the landlord tomorrow and giving him a piece of my mind.”

“Um -” Jungkook looks around from his position by the pipe. “We have a towel, some flour and stuff… maybe we stick some dough onto it?”

“Worth a shot but I don’t know if it’ll hold till tomorrow. Maybe we should try moving the pipe,” she admits, holding the top of it and wondering if it’ll work.

“Okay, let’s do that. Worst case, we find a plastic or metal box, cut it in just the right dimensions to cover the crack and fix it around the pipe.”

“Worst case.” 

Jungkook waves her over and they grip the pipe together. “If this goes south, just remember that I love you.”

Despite the chaos and the fact that her faux leather pants are damp and disgusting, Lia snorts. “Shut up, you dork. Come on, let’s do this.” Both of them pull the top part towards the lower one to try and close the gap.

“A little to the left, come on…”

“It’s - not - moving -” Lia bites her lip and jerks the pipe back, accidentally slipping again and falling back onto her boyfriend. The jolt makes Jungkook tip over and the pipe twists on the rust, bursting.

“Oh, my - “ Jungkook’s words are cut off when a jet of water hits him square in the face. Lia gasps and reaches for the pipe as he fumbles, sputtering, and lunges towards the pipe to turn it away.

“Jungkook, no! It’ll break if you -” 

But Lia is cut off as well and almost knocked backwards by the force of the water. It’s everywhere now; her clothes, her hair - she’s fully drenched. Next to her, Jungkook looks like he’s been dunked into a lake, his long thick hair sticking to his forehead.

“Take cover!” he yells, pulling open a cabinet behind him with one hand and yanking something out, while the other hand covers the jet of water uselessly. He replaces it with the lid of a cooking pan and tosses her another one which splashes into the water next to her.

“Thanks! I - Jungkook!” She brandishes the utensil while trying to dodge the water. “It’s a sieve!”

“What?”

“It has holes!”

“I can’t see! Wait -” He crawls towards the cabinet but slips midway, swearing loudly. 

“Careful!” She ducks and tries to get to the pipe but feels him grip her forearm and pull her back.

“You’ll hurt yourself!” he yells, handing her another pan. “Jesus - how did you guys let this stupid faucet get this bad?”

“I told you - our landlord is a jackass who ghosts us if we bring up fixtures!”

“Well -” Jungkook pauses, wincing a little as the water continues to ricochet off the pan he’s holding up. “In that case, this is probably as good a time as any to ask you this, but do you want to move in with me?”

Lia almost swallows a mouthful of tap water. “What?”

“Just - I mean, this apartment is unlivable!” he says loudly. “And I’m a much better landlord! And also -” He gags and spits out some water, “- I love you and all!” He shrugs awkwardly, drenched to the bone with his oversized t-shirt sticking to his shoulders and chest.

Lia tries - she really tries - to keep a straight face, to attempt to understand what goes on in Jungkook’s head. But it’s a lost cause, for at the end of the day, whatever it is, it just works. Through the irritation at her landlord and the general shock of being waterboarded by a broken pipe, she sees it. A shine in his doe eyes, a hint of nervousness. 

She doesn’t realise immediately why the water hits her suddenly with force or why Jungkook’s eyes widen belatedly.

“What are you doing? The water is - oh.” The anticipation turns into the beginnings of a smile when he works out why she has knee walked all the way towards him and he stands on his knees as well, just as she reaches him and places her arms around his neck, and kisses him.

When she pulls away, he’s grinning. “That’s a yes?”

“That’s a thank God you finally asked.” 

Jungkook nods sheepishly. “I wanted it to be perfect, honestly. I was just waiting for the right time and -” He sighs, shaking his head so droplets of water fall from his hair.

“You know what? I think this, unexpected as it was, is pretty perfect,” she says honestly. “So… I guess that’s a yes,” she clarifies, meeting him in a kiss once again.

There’s a muffled sound and then a splash, followed by a gasp.

“Oh, my God! What the fuck?”

Jungkook jerks away, pursing his lips. “As long as he is never allowed in our house,” he declares, glaring and pointing in the direction of the living room.

She gives him a look. “Pretty sure you’ll crack before I do on that front,” she guesses, just as Dal appears in the doorway of the kitchen, looking incredulous.

“What the fuck happened in here?”

“What do you think? That damn faucet,” she snaps, pointing at it. “This is the landlord’s problem now - he and his insurance can handle it.”

“I agree, but - God, are you guys okay?”

“Yeah, we were using lids…” Jungkook picks his up and places it in front of the stream of water, much more unfazed about it now than he was before. 

“Lids? Why didn’t you guys just turn off the water?” Taking a long step across the flooded kitchen floor, he reaches for a panel behind the left-most cabinet and twists a lever - and the water stops.

Speechless, Lia turns to look at Jungkook who is looking back at her with equal dismay. “We thought of dough before we thought of turning off the water,” he mutters, shaking his head.

“And we’re taking it to the grave,” she replies, squeezing his hand.

He’s wet, his designer clothes ruined - but Jeon Jungkook is glowing. A moment later, he squeezes her hand back.

“Deal.”

—

Thank you for reading. Don’t forget to leave a review :)

[circeyoru]

Gone Too Young _ Part 4 = Collab

[Human & Demon!Alastor x Male BFF!Reader] - Platonic

Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 (here)

My collaborator: @blubugg13

As the two of you got older, you had more jobs on your agenda and Alastor was busy with his internship at the local news stations so he could get a feel of being a news reporter, later a radio host, just as you suggested

You knew him well, turns out he does like the thought of being a radio host, he had the idea of you being his co-host or a guest from time to time, even an assistant! That way, your job is stable enough and he would be able to help you finanically whenever you needed without you complaining like you do now

His mother had the better idea. Adoption. While you were off the list, surely you’d make an exception when it was his mother was wanted to do it. He could see as clear day that you had a soft spot for his mother. Hard to reject motherly love, he’ll agree. It was your Christmas gift, you’ll have a family

You never showed up to the secret meet up you two arranged. Alastor waited under the freezing cold, the streets were a buzz, he watched families go up and down. Perhaps you were working a bit later, you did say you might not be able to make it and apologized beforehand. He waited a bit longer. You still didn’t show up. He had to return home

He didn’t know, the ambulance that he passedby carried your deceased body

Christmas day came by, you weren’t there. The orphanage cancelled the adoption plan his mother registered. Before they agreed! They said it would be the perfect surprise even! Everyone was in on it but you

Something in his gut told him, something’s wrong. He ran to the orphanage and asked for you, maybe you were sick and couldn’t tell him. Yeah. When he got there, he wasn’t allowed entry, the director came to the door personally to inform him you leave town for an internship, some wealthy businessman offered you that and you took it and left

“When will he be back?” Alastor recalled asking.

Yet there was no solid answer.

“A few days, I’m sure.” Your sister figure answered without looking at him. He caught her outside while shopping.

“I think like a month. Not sure.” Your coworker shrugged.

“He’s sleeping though.” One of the little ones you take care of spoke when he sneaked into the orphanage to see you.

“Maybe never, you never know.” One of your employer said.

“Stop asking for him! Mind your own business!” The director stopped him in his tracks.

But you were his business. He was your best friend and you were his. Why can’t he know where you went and when you’ll be back? Why does it feel like everyone but his mother and he know something about you?

Then he caught it while listening in on some workers chat while taking a break outside the last factory your worked at. The horrifying truth of your disappearance

“That kid Alastor’s back?”

“Yeah, he’s asking about him again.”

A sigh. “Can’t we just tell him what happened? It was an accident.”

“Are you crazy?! Who would want to know their friend ended up like that?!”

“Besides, the orphanage director already said to keep quiet about it.”

“I mean, it’s brutal.”

“I’ll say. Getting your arm rolled into the machine like a piece of meat, then die from blood loss.”

“I still get nightmares from that day.”

“Christmas day horror. It was even worse for that guy that accidentally bumped into him, right?”

“Yeah, Joe quit his job and just disappeared.”

“But I heard he was a roadkill somewhere.”

“Wow, that’s like karma.”

“Crazy sh*t happens everywhere…”

Alastor never ran that fast in his life. His smile fell and tears rained, the weather seemed to echo with the truth he learned, it rained, poured heavily. He ran into the forest and screamed till his voice gave out

No way… No way. NO WAY. NO WAY! NO WAY IN HELL!

He clenched as he fell to his knees. How could they keep such a secret to him? Everyone. Every one of them lied to him. Because he was some kid. Because you were just an orphan? Why? Why didn’t anyone tell him?

Unlike the others, he told his mother the truth he learned. Those adoption papers that sat on her desk in the study room were put away into a drawer, locked up. His mother soon fell ill from griefing and the shock, passing soon after then

Now when he walked the same roads and saw the people you helped, he saw red. That rage boil within him. Who knew and didn’t care? Who ignored your tragic death?

Without anything to ground him, he only had his job as the new radio host. A grand start!

“Welcome, everyone! I am Alastor, now your new radio host! You might have remembered me from other channels when I was still a young lad, haha! I’m here to stay! But regrettably, I have to start with recording some distrubing and tragic news. There seems to be a killer on the loose. So everyone be sure to lock your doors and windows at all times, you never know when the killer will strike.”

Note: A bit short but... That concludes the parts for the human Alastor and Reader~ Next up are the ones for the demon version and in Hell~

Circe Y. 

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: (those that don't specify to being in all the works' taglist will automatically be assumed to be in whichever series they comment on)

@aconfusedwonderland @crowleysthings @donustellaron @mistpurpl3 @lucifers-silhouette @fluffy-koalala @boredwithlifeatthispoint @mysterypotatoink

[lolitastories]

Under The Rain

Pt.1

Thomas Shelby

Chapter 1

I know it was a bad idea to walk before Dawn, the area was quiet and I was rushing under the rain to get back home safely. My head was a bit paranoid knowing I wasn’t in the right territory and it got worse when a gunshot echoed closed by. I could take care of myself with the gun hidden under what now was a flimsy dress but a gun could only hold so many bullets and this place reeked of irish criminals. I lift my head up and rush to a pub I knew, well atleast I knew the owner. The door creaks shut behind me and as I try to dust what I could of the water off and a lady comes to view behind the bar. “We are closed” Tall,thin, blonde hair, and an irish accent.

“It won’t take long,” I look around hoping to see Harry sneak his head out from somewhere. “Is Harry around?” Her eyes look at everything but mine. She shakes her head.

“He took the day off,” She turned her body and continued cleaning. “Don’t you know it's not safe for a woman like you to be walking around alone?” Apparently she wasn’t cleaning but she was fixing me a glass.

“I don’t drink” That's when her eyes flicker up to finally look at me. A small huff falls from her mouth.

“Everybody drinks, why come to a pub then?”

“Some people like to get drunk, others like company” I push the glass towards her. “I like to see how drunk people can get, it's funny” A slight smile appears after she down the whole drink in one swoop. “And the other looking for company well,” I take my chance to take a seat on the bar stool, “They are more pitiful than a whore who thinks highly of herself”

“So you come here to taunt” I shrug looking over the place. It was so neatly kept compared to the last time I’ve seen it and so quiet.

“Tell me you don’t enjoy it?” She stands up tall.

“Some, but as a barmaid you learn to listen and the people who come to drink, have stories that would make you drink” I don’t doubt it. “Their horror after war and their struggle to keep their families afloat, it's sad” I smile, shaking my head a bit.

“Scratch what I said before then,” She raised her eyebrow listening to my next words. “That's even more pitiful” Her smile disappeared but quickly was replaced with another slight smile.

“Do you smoke?” I shake my head. “So you don’t smoke or drink” She steps forward leaning against the bar. “Are you a whore?”

“If I were, I would be a very bad one,” She looks surprised at my response. Her words came out with poison but I knew better than let someone's words get to me so quickly. “I don’t have the gift to make men happy,”

“They only want your body not your mind” 

“It's a two for one deal, my mind would never allow it,”

“Men around here don’t care,” Ain’t that the truth. “If you are looking for so much why come out alone and put yourself for anyone to grab?” I look up, turning my head to the side a bit. I knew by her tone she didn’t trust or like me but somehow her words spoke true concern.

“It's not so much” I emphasize her words. “It's the minimum, we deserve so much more-” My words are cut off when the doors open and in come walking a man drench in rain water like me.

“Get me a drink Grace” He stumbles over the bar. He wasn’t drunk, he was exhausted. His hat falls onto the bar surface and when Grace nods he turns around to sit in one of the chairs.

“You should leave,” Grace whispers, coming around the bar to tell me before handing the man his drink. Light could be seen already rising from the top of the buildings, I should be fine.

“Get her a drink too” He pointed over to me. “Seems like she is having a day like mine” I look over hoping to catch a glimpse of his whole face but his stare is fixed on the doors.

“That is kind of you but I was just leaving” I whispered a thanks to Grace and took to standing. I watch Grace flinch from the side of my eye when we hear a loud bang on the table. The glass he harshly set down thankfully didn’t break.

“I came for some company,” My body instantly turns towards the bar, “Where’s Harry?” Grace looks over to him

“Took the day off” She was already pouring him another drink. He hums an okay and his next words elevated my heart rate

“Are you a whore?” I shake my head. “Prostitute? Well same thing” He lets out a dry chuckle. “Any decent lady whose not a whore wouldn’t be here at a pub at this time of day”

“I lost track of time,” I said confidently, turning over to him.

“So an exclusive whore?” His harsh tone almost made me lose my temper. His eyes flicker over to me. His light blue eyes were mesmerizing but his character overthrew all what could be nice of him.

“In that aspect,” I took the drink prepared by Grace and walked over to stand in front of the man. “I am as pure as a girl could ever be” I say in a low tone leaning over to place the drink in front of him. I heard of this man before, I recognized him by the way people described him. Cold stare, harsh tone, and he speaks with confidence.

“If that is true,” He leans forward without looking away from my eyes. “What are you doing here then?” I took my chance to pull out a chair in front of him and take a seat.

“Early train” He leaned back untrusting of my words, then again his eyes and everything about him screamed untrusting.

“You’re american?” I simply nod. I couldn’t deny it, my accent gave it away. “What is an American doing here and being a woman, why are you alone?”

“I’m not,” His eyebrows raised. “I have family I am visiting here and since I was passing by I thought I would say hey to Harry”

“How do you know Harry? I spent most of my time here and never saw you around” My stare fought against shifting to another place other than his bearing eyes.

“I was brought over at a young age and when I lost my parents I was in bad shape” Harry was a major help. “Ended up at this pub and when Harry found me he gave me hell. I decided to go to America to study teaching before the war started”  His expression softened a bit. He wasn’t a man who is used to being scared but he was one to be cautious. Everybody around here and my family knew who he was. After coming back from fighting in WW1 they spoke either highly or rubbed in dirt but either way he had pushed his family to the top and he had no intention to stop.

“You obviously have education, then let me give you a piece of advice,” He leans forward again. “If you want to stay pure don’t go walking around alone, it will give bad ideas to wrong people”

“Like you?” I wanted to take back how challenging my words sounded but by the looks of it, it amused him.

“Have you heard of me?” Of course.

“No” I fake concern as I shake my head.

“Well, if you stay, you will soon. My name is Thomas Shelby”  I could finally put a face to the name. The infamous Thomas Shelby, part of the peaky blinders. If he knew who I was he wouldn’t be this calm.

Pt. 2

[dreamer-after-dark]

I could see Wally Darling being the kind to sneak into your room/house when you're away and steal your panties/underwear. You figure that maybe the washing machine is eating them at first until a pair you were wearing yesterday disappeared from the top of the pile.

👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁

Side note, I have had my panties stolen before! Anyway, here you go ٭(•﹏•)٭

Part Two

Word count: 1,945

Wally is shameless.

👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜

[Y/N]

It happened again.

[Julie]

What??

[Sally]

Panty thief struck again?

[Julie]

Twice in one week???

[Y/N]

It's not a thief! I refuse to believe it!

[Sally]

How many pairs does that make now? 12?

[Julie]

Close! 15!

[Y/N]

17

[Sally]

I fail to understand why this can't be the doing of a petty thief?

[Julie]

Y/N!

[Julie]

Y/N are you there?

[Julie]

Where did they go? :/

[Sally]

Alas, my darling Juliet! Tis I alone that remains here

[Wally]

Hello

[Sally]

Hi, Wally.

👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜

Seventeen pairs of your best fitting panties have been lost, lost forever. Never to be found with the same elasticity or fit. You stared out into the empty street where the sun parted between leaves. You were too broke to afford replacing them and so you wandered this world commando when the pants offered enough coverage and comfort. Or even if it didn't you still had no choice should you plan around an inviting evening out.

With a huff you adjusted your basket against your hip, your unfolded clothes flopping a bit. The sunshower surprised you as it pelted against the non opening glass doors of the building's laundromat. After double checking the seats and dryer you headed for the opened door just off to the side. You entered a gray stairwell. Beneath the staircases was a collection of cleaning supplies, a yellow mop bucket, and a locked cabinet.

Your slippers echoed through the stairwell as you jogged up. The door to your floor was propped open with a rock. You used your free hand to open the door fully and slide the rock inside. You pushed it to the side with your foot not wanting anyone to trip over on it like you had. Your phone smacked your face leaving a nasty bruise under your eye. It still hurts to remember.

The door shut behind you with a rusty squeak. Your slippers slid lightly against the tiled floors until you made it to your apartment door. The handle gave way and you were thrilled to find it still open. Music boomed from somewhere within one of the rooms. The smell of weed wafted around mixing with the chilled air feeding in from the windows.

You inhaled deeply, shaking loose your worries. As you walked down your hallway you passed the open bathroom where giggling and hushed whispers could be heard. Julie and Sally were doing their makeup together, facetiming you assumed. Further was the kitchen where you heard the clinking of silverware against wood. The voices from the bathroom quieted.

Wally was stirring a cup of coffee when he spotted your annoyed expression, "Hello, Y/N. Are you alright?"

"Another pair off and vanished," you roll your eyes with a glance at your basket, "It's getting annoying."

"I can see how annoying that could get. Do you think they've all been stolen?"

"No! No. I'm sure it'll sort itself out. Have you got anymore coffee, Wally?"

Wally hands you the mug he was holding, "This one's yours, honeycrisp."

You thanked him as he turned away to prepare his own. His hair cascaded like waves down his back. The vibrant blue shining below the lights. Wally was amazing at coloring his hair. You turn away and head down the hallway where two doors faced each other. You entered the left one silently praying thanks to the great nothingness beyond for leaving it unlocked for you.

You placed your laundry on your bed. You would fold the clothes, but your keys needed to be found. You looked around your slightly cluttered room. The tapestry on your window was tied up letting in the sun. The smell of wet earth rose up as the rain thundered down. By the window was a desk. It was stained with paint and ink. On top was a journal, several colors of paint, and a large bottle of water. A mug with several drying paint brushes propped up within say atop the bookshelf.

Small plushies were scattered among the shelves and on the floor. Your bed was next to the wall by the door. The blanket was a pile on the floor next to the end of the bed. Larger plushies were squished from your tossing and turning. Pillows were crammed between the bed frame and wall. Eyes landing on your newly added laundry basket made you realize cleaning your entire room would help you find your missing keys.

👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜[Wally]

Hi, Sally.

Hi, Julie.

[Sally]

Wally, you wouldn't happen to know about the Boudoir Bandit?

[Wally]

No.

[Julie]

Maybe it's one of the other tenants!

[Sally]

Nefarious tenant!

[Y/N]

It has to be the machine

Can't be anything else

[Sally]

Perish the thought! The Panty Snatcher must be caught and brought to justice!

[Julie]

Perish the thought!

[Wally]

Perish the thought!

[Y/N]

Who could it be?

[Sally]

I see you've come around.

[Julie]

It could be anyone!

Any of us!!

How scary!!!

[Wally]

It could be anyone?

[Sally]

List of suspects:

Sally

Julie

Y/N

Poppy

Wally

Howdy

Barnaby

Home

[Y/N]

Me??

Why me??

[Julie]

It's a crazy world, Y/N!

We cannot rule out anyone!

Not even you

[Sally]

Julie is exactly right, darling Y/N! We simply cannot rule you out!

[Wally]

I would hate to see you go without, neighbor.

[Y/N]

Ok :/

👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜

You smirked at the messages filling up your screen. Julie's energetic texts became shorter and you could imagine her hot pink nails tapping against the screen of her phone. Sally's text became increasingly verbose in response. Wally was lurking as he always did, chiming in here and there.

The phone slipped into your pocket as music filled the already tidied room. Your keys had been found while sweeping underneath your desk. Along with a few scrunchies and a button, your heavily outfitted keys were dragged out. With such a clunky set up you wondered how you ever lose it to begin with. Work keys, house keys, anime characters, pepper spray, and a stuffed animal. All of it designed to be eye-catching and hard to lose.

You flopped onto your bed opting for rest. Your ultimate goal had been completed and you were horribly drained. Your mind drifted back to the mounting loss of your panty collection. Solid color boxers, high waisted panties, boy shorts, thongs, sick day panties. All of it is gone! Sally was right to call it nefarious, but believing that you were being specifically targeted was a level of fear you wanted to avoid. You turned off your notifications for the next hour and returned to cleaning up.

Soon your room was clean, your clothes put away, and the bathroom was finally open. The glow of the full moon was bright and brilliant tonight. Leaving your desk you grabbed a change of clothes, sans panties, and a towel. You stripped down leaving all of your clothes inside the now empty basket. Stepping out you noticed the room across from you was quiet. There was a note taped to the door reading:

Out for the next three days! Rent is on the table!

Sally and Julie were heading out to New York for a concert. All the more to enjoy a long, luxurious shower. Wally was in the room down the opposite hall. His room was the only one on that side. He had the biggest room in the apartment for all of his art equipment. Aside from his bed you couldn't tell it was his bedroom. The last you had been inside it was filled with disturbing personal works. Each one felt delicate and haunting. Completely unlike his pleasant and sweet demeanor.

The music was still going though not as loud. It was mellow and dragging. You could hear the bubbling of his bong. The sound made your heart race. You quickly stepped into the bathroom. The thick glass ceiling above always excites you. It was such a crummy apartment, but it had its ups with this being one of them.

Julie's stickers covered the thick sides of her movable mirror. Her makeup bag was left open covered in eye shadow dust and glitter. A pack of eyelashes were left open on the top of the bag.

A little smudged message was left on the mirror written in red lipstick, reading:

You're beautiful, starshine!

Julie was a sweetheart. The rain had stopped, leaving a silence in the tall bathroom. With a turn of the faucet cold water rushed out from the shower head. The patter of water against ceramic filled the room. You stepped under the stream shivering as the droplets thudded against your skin.

Stepping out from the shower you dried yourself off and slipped into your change of clothes. You felt rejuvenated! As you stepped out of the bathroom, a voice called for you.

"Hi, Y/N. Would you like a snack?" Wally was standing in the kitchen with reddened eyes.

"What are you having?" You couldn't help but smile at the sight.

"A cut up apple. I couldn't think of anything better," he giggled, "I have a few extra?"

You accept the offered apples, "Thanks. I'm sure I forgot to eat with all the other things I also forgot."

"I'm sorry that's happening, it must be tough. Julie did say you were left without much to wear."

You groaned imagining Julie explaining things in detail as she usually would, "I'd rather not make it into a thing. It's just so weird to even consider what they're saying."

"I have a pack of unopened boxers. They may not fit perfectly, but they should help?" He smiled completely at ease.

"That's.. Ok. I couldn't accept that." As weird as it was to have your underwear stolen, Wally offering you some was even weirder.

"Oh, Ok. I'll hold it until you're ready." Wally walked off into his room leaving you in the kitchen.

You heaved a sigh as you leaned against the counter. The apple slices crunched as you bit into it. Each one refreshing and cold. You rinsed the plate in the sink and switched off the lights. You returned to your room, but stopped just short of the door.

It was cracked open. You were sure the door shut behind you when you stepped out. With a gentle push you opened the door further. When seeing nothing out of place you stepped in and shut the door behind you listening for that click of metal against wood. When you heard it you let go of the doorknob and hung up your towel to dry.

You looked around your room again looking over every little detail. The still tidy room was just as you left it. Plushies put away, paints organized, bed made, and the floor clean. Your eyes glanced over the basket on the floor and your heart skipped. Your head swiveled back as your eyes scanned it once more. Leaning down you picked at the shirt and pants shaking them out. A pair of socks fell from the pant leg, but nothing else. With dread it dawned on you. The panties you had worn not even an hour ago were missing.

👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁

[Y/N]

Wally

[Wally]

Yes?

[Y/N]

Where are they?

[Wally]

Where is what?

[Y/N]

My panties

[Wally]

Stolen, I presume?

[Y/N]

By you

Where are they?

[Wally]

You're welcome to check my room, Y/N

Do you want to come in?

👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁

You heard the music dip low in the furthest room. You heard the door click as the knob turned. Your heart pounded in your chest as you heard him chuckle from deep within his room.

[yiiyiiwrites]

🗡️ | Relics and Ruins | 7 |

Part 7 [series masterlist]

Summary: you’re a mender from the dawn court specialised in cursed or broken relics. When Azriel enters the dawn court the truth-teller is silent, it’s not till he asks for your help that realises who you are. 3317words

The autumn court was not what you’d expected, the soggy leaves squelching beneath your boots. You weren't on your feet for long though, before strong arms lifted you, the side of your head lulling into his warmth.

Eris Vanserra carried you through the brown stone courtyard, ancient tree’s twisted branches spiralling out of the centre. Gold and browns fluttered from above, leaves as dark as blazing flames raining down.

A fox weaved its way through his legs and disappeared underneath a dying hedge, bushy tail swiping the dry leaves to the ground.

“You should not have come,” Eris mumbled, his grip on you tightening as he slipped past a group of patrolling guards. The hounds behind him silent, not even the sound of their paws hitting the tiled floor.

“You make me feel safe though, I just wanted somewhere to heal.” You grasped the lapels of his overcoat, clinging to that small source of comfort and warmth radiating off of him.

“The bargain makes you feel safe, you should not feel that way here.”

He didn't say how you should not feel safe with him, the autumn court another prison like under the mountain for him. You heard the tales of his father and lived to be at his brothers mercy.

Calling in the bargain felt as natural as breathing, like he needed you in this moment as much you needed him. You wondered sometimes if he was your mate, if the bargain had twisted the thread of fate between you making it harder for you to feel it.

You’d been there before, the day after you were freed from under the mountain. Unable to leave, lost in the familiarity of the autumn general and your need for security, which you found in him. Eris let you stay, returning you to the dawn court before nightfall. He’d warned you not to step foot in his home again.

The sun glaring through the stained glass windows, scorching hot against your face. Eris carried you through the intricate maze of narrow halls, if you didn't know any better you'd think he was doing it, so that you could not map out the palace. He nudged a set of double doors open with his shoulder, your leg falling from his grasp.

Eris shifted you in his arms, taking you through a circular entryway and ducking under thick velvety draped curtains to a large bedroom. A green marbled fireplace roared to life, ornate oak mantel framing the red flames, twirling leaves carved into the dark stained wood.

He was alway so put together, not a strand of hair out of place or crease marring his clothings, something you envied him for.

"You know, I didn't think I'd be mending you," he said, a smirk playing on his lips. He laid you onto the bed, elbows either side of you as he caged you in. You sunk into the plush blanket, sinking your fingers into the tufts of fur. Your eyes trailed his hands that traced your thigh, teeth sinking into your bottom lip.

His fingers hooked onto the double knot of your bandage, untying and lifting your leg, palm cupping the back of your thigh so he could unravel the ribbon of material. Eris hesitated, "this will hurt."

You clutched his wrist, his amber eyes snapping to your hand. He pried your fingers from him, "you know how it goes," he mumbled, placing his palm on top of your thigh.

"Just be quick." You yelped as he pressed his weight into the wound, flesh burning beneath his touch. The fire licking around his fingers and curling from under his palm sealing whatever injury it touched. You'd been here before, manipulating his fire to mend or heal, you could feel your skin weaving itself back together.

Eris's touch lingered, the pad of his thumb soothing the tingles away from your thigh. The wound closed and skin meshed back together, a lighter patch of scarring in its place. "Do I want to know?" He asked, laying down beside you on the bed. The mattress dipped and your body rolled with his, closer to him.

You turned, swinging your leg and hovering above him, hands resting on his chest. "How can I even repay such kindness?" You smiled down at him. His fiery red hair splayed out like a halo against the fur blanket, but he was not as angelic as the image laying beneath you.

You'd always wondered what type of person he'd be when he'd become high lord. His hot and cold demeanour throwing you off each time you saw him. Today however, he seemed happy to be with you. Even if it was unplanned.

He tugged the chain dangling from your neck. "You know," he said, pulling you down by your necklace. His gaze on the pendant and the small blob of fae light spiralling inside. "We're not under the mountain anymore." He tugged you, lips crashing into yours, touch burning.

"I like it," you said, stuffing the pendant under your fitted tunic. "Besides, it's actually really useful." He hummed, stroking your cheek, but his gentleness did not last long as he gripped your chin.

"Scared a certain shadowsinger, will torture you in the darkness if you kiss the enemy?" he said, kissing you once again. Staking his claim, knowing that you would go back to the night court and smell of him.

You tensed at the mention of Azriel, you'd easily forgot his position in the night court. Maybe his charm was part of the game, you knew he was dangerous and risky, but you couldn't help but think of him.

"I don't mind playing the villain, if I get some intel in return."

You didn't bite the bait.

A pawn in every other high fae's game, seemed to be something you couldn't escape even above the mountain. Eris Vanserra a lesser evil though, you knew where you stood with him. The inner circle and the night court, you wasn't so sure. Too early to tell.

You'd play your part, trust Thesan and then spend the rest of your days in the Dawn court.

"I'm just telling you to tread carefully, whether it be the shadowsinger, brute or Rhys," Eris said, names dripping from his tongue like they were coated with poison. He tapped you leg, pushing it back so he could stand from the bed.

"I know my place don't worry, Vanserra." You were frequently reminded, if it wasn't him it was the tattoo staring back at you on your forearm. Those damned scars that littered your body, sometimes felt like they were on fire some nights.

A persistent knock rapped on the door, Eris ushering you into a secret panel in the wall. The light left with him and your scrambled for the locket under your tunic, sighing as the light calmed your racing heart.

Eris opened the door, grabbing your arm and hauling you out. His amber eyes were darker, whatever fuel added to his anger wasn't something you wanted to find out. "Bloody shadowsingers raising hell in search for you." His fingers dug into your arm, your boots leaving the ground in a blink. The forest spinning around your vision as you stumbled to the ground.

"No he wouldn't come for me, there must be something else," you said dusting the mud from your trousers, you side stepped a foxes den nearly falling in, in the process. Eris sighed, dragging you through the forest by your arm, you struggled to keep up with his long strides.

"Don't be stupid, he's come unannounced. I'm going to have to get to the guards before my father's men and try to save all our asses," he seethed, mumbling a string of curse of words as he dragged you deeper into the autumn borders.

You pulled yourself out of his grasp, "I have no idea why he's here."

Eris spun around, towering over you. "What did you make a bargain with him too?" He spat, smoothing his hair neatly behind his pointed ears. His hounds snapped at your ankles playfully, one in particular sitting on you muddy boots.

"Oh because that's the only reason people will ever help me, you don't have to be so cruel."

You didn't get a chance to debate, yells sounded on the path leading to the both of you. The glimmer of fire flitting through the breaks between the trees.

Eris shoved you in the opposite direction. "Go, I'm sure he'll find you first."

You didn't question it, you ran through the forest. Leaping over the mounds of roots, the sole of your boot lodged into the uneven ground. You tripped, knees slamming down but you stood back up and pushed your legs harder.

A darkness beckoned you, one you didn't second guess as you ran through it. It wasn't till you gave into the shadows, did you realise their owner was not there.

Azriel hated the shift in the air, the rustle of leaves twirling in circles around his shadows. The ground squelching beneath his boots, he shook the mud caking the stiff leather and scanned his surroundings.

Trees, each one looking the exact same. A stray dark wisp tore towards him and curled around his ear, her blossom scent merging with it.

The shade under the canopy of leaves shifted under the wave of grey clouds above. Azriel flitted through the dark planes like the wind carrying the leaves on the forest floor. Her scent becoming stronger as he tracked the stray wisp’s movements.

Muffled voices filtered through the cloak of darkness he wrapped around himself. Concealing his figure on the edge of the forest. An open scrap of land of rolling hills, golden brown and rusty reds merging into the horizon. In the centre, atop the towering cliff stood the Autumn courts palace.

Azriel had only ever stepped foot in the surroundings of autumn, never strayed too far from the dark oak trees. The daylight wouldn’t offer him much room to travel through the shadows, he’d have to go the long way and stick to the edge of the forest.

He’d lose her scent, but he needed to know that she was safe and protected. His forehead prickled with heat, a bead of sweat rolling down his hairline. It washed away as quick as it came, he wondered if it was another snap of the bond twisting his stomach and yanking him forwards. Without thinking he stepped out into the Autumn fields.

Fuck. A guard yelled at him, a ball of fire charging for him. A charred spec of ash burnt through his fighting leathers on his arm and he snuffed the spark out with his gloved hand.

Azriel fell back into the forest floor, letting the overgrown darkness carry him away. He had no choice, but to hunt.

Shrinking into the base of a tree trunk, Azriel waited for the voice to travel closer. He circled the tree, avoiding the flicker of flames. One wrong step and the light would announce his arrival.

Azriel commanded the shadows, roots ripping from the ground curling them around the guards ankles.

Three heavily armed guards slammed to the forest floor, metal armour clanging against their swords. The fire dropped to the mossy ground, flames chasing their horses away.

He felt the heat behind him before he saw the leaves alight. Fuck, the fire spread wildly, eating away at anything its path. His shadows retreated back over his shoulders hissing and pushing him back out into the rolling hills.

Rhys was going to be pissed, Azriel might have upped Cassian’s tearing down a building. All by setting the whole of the autumn forest alight.

He tore away from his shadows and ran away from the edge, he’d already been walking the tightrope with his mate. One more step would mean war in this court, in order to see her he’d have to take his time and not be found. Oh how he wanted to take the quick and dangerous route, but he was no use to her if he got caught.

Azriel swore he could hear the crackling of flames catching the roots behind him. He didn’t dare glance back, the thought of her and finding her scent the only thing keeping his legs going. He tried to stay ahead, jumping between the shadows, but he’d never been this far before and didn’t want to go too far that he’d not be able to find his way back. He could only travel to places he’d been before, so learning a new path threw him through the wringer. His head pounding, throat burning and eyes stinging.

Trees drew closer together, branches snatching him back as he ventured deeper into the darkness. The sun was beginning to set, an advantage for him not her. He did not want her lost to the darkness.

His shadows leapt forwards, not a flicker of a black wisp surrounding him. He frowned, summoning them back but they never returned.

And then she stepped out of the dark hurricane containing her, hand reaching for his and he took it without hesitation.

The wisps circled them like bats, the world around them disappearing and she closed her eyes as one pesky wisp curled down her arm, resting on their clasped hands. The ball of fae light escaped her locket and floated between them, it bobbed in the air and danced behind them as Azriel pulled her through the dark abyss.

The cold wind nipped his cheeks as he opened his eyes, boots crunching on the hard snow. Her body shivering against his, clinging to his warmth.

"Where are we?" She asked, tucking her hands under her arms. Her gaze swept the mountain, a blanket of fresh white snow tainted by their footsteps. No one else had stepped foot up here and the cluster of clouds in the sky were screaming the warnings of a blizzard.

"The Illyrian mountains," Azriel said, he slung his arm around her shoulder and tucked her into his side trying to shield her from the chilling breeze. He couldn't travel close, the small trek something he didn't think about in his state of panic. It was the first place he thought of.

Azriel stilled, pulling her away to check her thigh. A gaping rip hung from her trousers and the wound nothing, but a light scar against her smooth skin. He didn't ask her how, he scooped her up in his arms trying to fight the smile as she squeaked in surprise.

"What are you doing?" Her fingers clutched the hair at the nape of his neck like they were meant to mould together. His shadows hovered over her bare skin as if they were trying to generate some extra warmth for her.

"There's a cabin," he said nudging his head to the small wooden house tucked between the two upper fangs of the mountains. "Sorry, this is the first place I thought of. It won't take long to get up there."

Azriel could still hear the crackles of the forest setting alight, he wondered if she too had seen the blaze she was running towards, that she was running to him. Did she only see him in the moment, like he did her?

"Looks like we might have to stay the night, blizzards drawing in."

The trek did not take him long, he flew up the steep incline and walked the pebbled path shielding them from the roaring wind. Her eyes darted along the trail, Azriel reassuring her that she was safe. He opened the cabin, placing her down as soon as he closed the door.

She slipped off her boots, fuzzy socks padding along the wooden floor. "This is your home?" She asked, her gaze flitting from the kitchen to the living area. She collapsed into the leather sofa, hand stroking the fur blanket hung over the back.

"Rhys's, but I grew up here with him and Cassian." Azriel leant on the edge of the dining table and crossed his arms over his chest. She flinched as the glow of the fire flashed to life, her gaze lost in the dancing flames. Her head bobbed in response, but she was still somewhere else, deep in thought toying with the locket around her neck.

Two steaming hot cups of cocoa clinked to the table, he offered her one and she held it between her palms, face hovering over the rim to bring some heat to her face. She sipped the hot drink, her back relaxing back into the sofa as if the cocoa had thawed her out. He couldn't help the tug of his lips, but he hid it behind his cup.

She stood from the sofa and placed the cup on the table. "Your face," she gasped pointing to his cheek. Her touch feathery light as she turned his face in her hold. "You have ointments for them? Ohh thank you," she chuckled as they appeared beside her, the house dropping a sweet on the table.

Azriel blinked, lips parted as she dipped her finger into a tub of healing balm and smoothed it over the cuts on his jaw, cheek and brow. He hated the overpowering menthol scent, but he stared at her positioned between his legs. Something so innocent and caring felt oddly intimate in the moment. He cleared his throat and she hesitated placing the strips on his brow.

"I'm sorry," he said, head lowering and heart thumping in his chest. He'd wanted to say it ever since they'd opened that bloody sword, the guilt eating away him much like the worm that feasted on her flesh.

"Whatever for?" She said, nervous laugh trembling through her hands as she tipped his chin up with her finger. Her amber eyes roaming his face. So gentle and calming in her presence, something he wanted to lean into more.

God's he wanted to kiss her. He clenched his fists, but could not look away from her.

"For not protecting you when the time come." He'd replayed the moment over and over, his only source of help was the ball of light leading him to her in the mist of the library. It seemed to be only constant in her life, the white light. He wondered if he would ever be that for her one day.

"It's not your fault Azriel," she said placing a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it in her hold. "That thing had centuries on us. No way of knowing what it was. Don't be so hard on yourself, not everything has to fall on your shoulders." She shook his shoulders as if trying to shake some sense into him.

She combed back a strand of his hair away from his forehead, withdrawing as she realised what she'd done. "I mean I'm not sure if its got centuries or decades on you, I'm still quite spry. Five hundred and twelve."

Azriel leant back trying to capture the smile spreading across her face. "Oh is that so?" He inched closer, nose a hair-width away from hers. His shadows trying to tug them both closer.

"I didn't know you were a relic too." She glanced down to hips lips, hand lacing at the back of his neck.

"Does that mean you want to study me too?" Azriel asked, palm pressing into her spine as he tugged her closer. Her warm breath fanned against his face, but he tensed. All he could smell on her lips was Eris Vanserra's scent, but he kissed her anyways trying to rid her of the autumn generals mark.

Their bodies were like two hurricanes merging together, he lifted her and sat her on the table. She dragged him closer trying to chase his movements so that she could keep his lips upon hers.

She pulled away trying to catch her breath, "that was unexpected," she whispered touching her swollen lips.

taglist: @rcarbo1 , @st4r-girl-official ,@azrielswhore , @cynthiesjmxazrielslover , @shizukestar , @wolfbc97 @thecraziestcrayon , @i-am-infinite , @krowiathemythologynerd @nebarious @sidthedollface2 @sttvrdustt @negomi123 @clementine11102

Ahhhh, lots is happening but she's also very confused 🤪 Hope you enjoyed this Chapter. And thank you for interacting/reading, love reading all your comments.

[hayanwulf]

Getting together fic wherein Stephen has a particularly bad hand pain day, and he struggles to hide it from a concerned Tony. Tony offers to give him some painkillers and massage Stephen's hands, and the touch starved, miserable sorcerer accepts. Tony massages his hands until the pills kick in, and then some just because, and eventually Stephen kisses him about it

Word count got completely out of hand. I regret nothing.

Stephen had woken up to throbbing pain in his hands, then had to deal with a manticore accidentally summoned by some idiots trying to summon ‘the devil’, then had to go to the fucking North Pole to close a dimensional rift there, and when he’d finally returned to the Sanctum, it was raining.

Overall, today was a fantastic day.

The Cloak had wandered off to somewhere shortly after their return from the North Pole. So now he sat alone and miserably in his study, grunting under his breath, hands half-buried under the bottom end of the MIT hoodie he was wearing. It was Tony’s hoodie — he’d had the privilege of getting to wear it for the first time only yesterday, and had instantly stolen it — and that was the only semblance of comfort he had right now.

His phone pinged and the screen lit up with a new notification. It was a message from Tony.

Would you like some carbonara?

No.. as nice as it would be to have lunch with Tony, Stephen’s hands wouldn’t even be able to handle the fork, let alone pick up some spaghetti without dropping it all over.

He would only make a fool of himself in front of Tony.

He picked up his phone with a very shaky hand, painstakingly unlocked the screen, and then spent the next few minutes just trying to type out two words without messing up. At times like these, he thought that he should really have accepted Tony’s offer for a better, more accessible, voice-command phone.

But.. but that would be admitting that he couldn’t even do simple, normal, everyday tasks by himself.

No. Stephen was more than capable of doing completely normal tasks all by himself.

He did not need anyone’s help, much less their pity.

After much grueling effort, he had finally typed out the words in his phone. He tapped the send button.

not hungry

His text was was almost immediately marked as read. Tony didn’t send another reply, though.

He realized, a little belatedly, that he probably looked like an asshole. Tony had been trying to invite him to lunch, and he’d outright rejected.

Tony’s typing bubble appeared after a few moments, drawing Stephen’s attention. It disappeared and reappeared a couple of times. But it didn’t take Tony long to send a text.

I’ll bring some over anyway, maybe Wong would like some. I made it, btw. Was proving a point to Capsicle. There’s plenty of leftover.

Oh. Tony had made it himself.

He had wanted to invite Stephen to lunch that he had made himself.

Well. Stephen positively looked like an asshole.

He flopped his head down on his desk, groaning lightly at his own stupidity. He was an utter and complete failure of a partner.

This day just kept getting better.

He turned his head where it rested on the desk to stare out through the window.

There was a time when he used to love the rain. Rain was comfort and calmness. The sound of raindrops hitting the earth was soothing, it made the soil’s scent pleasant, it lowered the temperature to an enjoyable level that made you want to sit near a large window with a book in your lap, a hot cup of aromatic tea on the table in front of you, and just enjoy the weather. What was there to not like about rain?

Now.. now Stephen loathed rain.

The drop in atmospheric pressure was never kind to his hands. It pulled and strained his joints and muscles, until they would scream in pain.

As it stood, that was exactly what the rain was doing to his hands right now.

It had only been a few minutes when the Sanctum notified him of Tony landing on the porch. Quickly getting up from the desk, he changed out of Tony’s hoodie with a quick motion of his hand, changing into his sorcerer robes.

When Tony was in through the door, he reached for the Sanctum’s energy and teleported the genius into his study, who took a second to rebalance himself upon blinking into existence in front of Stephen.

“Ugh, really freaky,” Tony said, shaking his head a little to dispel the momentary disorientation. “You do know that I’m capable of just walking over to you myself, like a normal human being?”

“You’ll live,” Stephen said, reaching for some books lying on his desk to collect them, hopefully making it look like he had been studying and not miserably lamenting over his hands. “And Wong is not on Earth today.” He bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from grunting as a particularly sharp sting of pain shot up his right hand when he held three books in a stack.

“Oh, is that so.” Tony looked down rather somberly at the bag on his hand, then huffed. “Well, he’ll miss out on the best carbonara ever.”

Stephen looked down at the stack of books in his hands for a moment, then looked up at Tony. “Have you eaten yet?”

Tony shrugged. “Not really.”

“Have you brought enough for two people?”

Tony eyed him curiously. “I’ve brought enough for three people.”

For Tony, he could do this much, right? “Let me put these books back, and then we can eat together?”

Tony smiled, eyes sparkling with delight. “Let’s do that.”

Few minutes later, they in the kitchen.

Tony gleefully served the spaghetti into two plates, setting one down in front of Stephen, and sat down next to him with his own serving.

Stephen stared down at it. God, it smelled heavenly. He had no doubt that it would taste just as amazing. But..

The cursed fork.

Stephen quietly sighed, able to feel Tony’s expectant gaze on him. Well, he’d chosen this.

Tentatively, he picked up the fork with a shaky hand. His grip was shit, and trying to tighten it around the metallic handle made his muscles spasm. With whatever shaky grip he managed, he dug the fork into the spaghetti to try and lift some, that was when he heard Tony curse under his breath.

“Sorry, I didn’t even think of that,” Tony said, getting up. He reached to take the fork off of Stephen’s hand.

“Stop,” Stephen told him firmly, and Tony stilled. “Don’t. I can use a fork just fine, Tony.”

Tony was quiet for a moment. “You don’t have to. We can order something else.”

“No. You made this.”

“Yeah but that was just to prove Capsicle that I do, in fact, know how to cook food and can do it really well. We don’t have to eat this, let’s—”

“I want to,” Stephen insisted, cutting Tony off. “I want to taste the food you’ve prepared with your own hands.”

Tony’s expression was a conflicting mix of concern and warmth. “Alright..” He sat down.

And Stephen wasn’t lying. He really did want to taste food of Tony’s hands. It wasn’t just for Tony’s happiness, though that did make it all the more worth it.

If he had to sit through a bit of pain and struggle for that, so be it.

He tried again, stabbing the fork into the spaghetti, and lifted up a small amount. His hands shook, and some strands of the pasta fell back into his plate. He still managed to put some into his mouth.

Goodness, it was so much better than he’d thought. He let out a low appreciative hum as he chewed it.

“This is.. amazing, Tony,” he told Tony, who preened with a wide grin on his face.

“Of course it is. I made it, after all,” Tony crowed, stuffing his mouth with some spaghetti.

Stephen rolled his eyes and dug his fork into his plate again.

His enjoyment died down rather quickly, as his hand spasmed more with each time he tried to scoop up some spaghetti. It got harder to not drop the strands, or even keep holding on to the fork. Tony must have noticed, he thought, but was choosing not to speak on it.

Stephen preferred it that way.

There was simply no need to make a big issue out of this.

“Here,” Tony said only moments after that, making Stephen turn towards him. The genius was holding his forkful of spaghetti extended towards Stephen.

“What?” Stephen asked.

“Let me feed you,” Tony explained, raising his fork closer to Stephen in emphasis.

Stephen gave him an affronted look. “What? No! I’m not a child.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “You’re a grown ass man who doesn’t know how to ask for help. Yes, I know. That’s why I’m giving it.”

“Tony, I can eat by myself.”

Tony sighed. “Just let me do it, alright? Just like you wanted to eat my dish, I want to do this. It’s an act of service. I like doing it. Lemme do it.”

Douchebag. Using Stephen’s reasoning against him.

Stephen looked down at the fork in his shaking hands, then up at the fork being offered to him by Tony’s firm, steady hand. He sighed and dropped his fork back on his plate.

Tony gave a small, warm smile when Stephen ate from his hand.

“It wouldn’t kill you to ask for help every now and then, y’know,” Tony murmured in a low, gentle voice.

It certainly would kill Stephen’s pride, if not him, to ever ask for help from anyone in this plane of existence.

“You’ll live, I promise,” Tony added rather dryly; whether to his previous statement or if he read Stephen’s mind, Stephen wasn’t sure.

Even now, Stephen thought, he should feel embarrassed for needing help with something so trivial as eating. But..

But he didn’t.

The way Tony fed Stephen and himself with the same fork, eyes so warm and with a brilliance that could make the sun appear dull, the way he genuinely enjoyed servicing Stephen, thoughtful and patient with his action of feeding him.. Stephen didn’t feel like he was being looked down on. He didn’t feel pitied, he didn’t feel disabled.

He simply felt loved.

They ate in relative silence, save for Tony’s occasional rants on something or the other. Stephen was content to just listen and enjoy the closeness.

When they were done, Tony picked up the dishes and moved to the sink to wash them.

“Do you have painkillers?” The genius asked as he placed the clean dishes on the drying rack, and it really shouldn’t have surprised Stephen. Of course Tony had picked up that his discomfort was more than just not being able to hold a fork.

“In my room, yes,” Stephen replied. “But that won’t be needed.”

Tony tiredly rubbed his fingers over his eyes, then gave Stephen a deadpan expression that spoke ‘I’m not taking your bullshit today’.

“Really, it’s fine,” Stephen insisted.

A minute later, they were in Stephen’s room.

Tony made him sit down on the bed, handed him a pill of Naproxen, all the while grumbling under his breath something about ‘stubborn wizards’. Stephen popped the pill into his mouth, and Tony helped him gulp down a glassful of water before setting the empty glass away.

“Does it help to massage your hands?” Tony asked.

Stephen hesitated. He knew what question would follow that one.

But.. but perhaps a part of him wanted to be asked that.

“It does.”

Tony gave him a curious look, eyes open and almost pleading. “Would you let me..?”

Stephen bit the corner of his lip. He looked at the window that showed it to still be raining outside, then down at the hands on his lap, then back up at Tony.

“..Yes.”

Tony’s eyes eased into an invisible smile. He went around the bed, climbed from the other side, and settled himself at center of the large bed, back leaned against the headboard. He coaxed Stephen closer to him, who followed and leaned himself partly against the headboard, partly on Tony, and gave up his hands to Tony’s care.

Tony frowned at Stephen’s robes in distaste. “Are you seriously gonna wear that in bed too?”

Stephen huffed out a breath. He hadn’t exactly given it a lot of thought when Tony had landed in front of the Sanctum; he’d just wanted to hide Tony’s hoodie away.

With a quick motion, he changed into his own comfortable clothes — no, not Tony’s, he would not let Tony claim his MIT hoodie back anytime soon — and then relinquished his hand back in Tony’s hold. “There, happy?”

“Very fucking much. I don’t get how you can put up with wearing that 27 hours a day.”

Tony began to massage his hands. He was so gentle and careful with them, applying the lightest of pressure, massaging from the wrists slowly down to each finger. The touch of his warm fingers on Stephen’s cold ones felt soothing. In between the massage, Tony’s touches, at times, softly traced over the scars. But they never once felt intrusive. They felt like the delicate caress of a flower against a butterfly’s wing, harmless and gentle and so, so careful.

It was nice. It was safety and care and love. The pain was slowly forgotten, and Stephen’s mind was slowly lulled into a state of peace and comfort.

A moderately loud thunder crackled, and Stephen looked at the window to find it was absolutely pouring outside. The temperature had also fallen further by a few degrees. Sitting pressed against Tony and sharing their body heat, the temperature didn’t bother Stephen, nor his hands with how tenderly they were being cared for.

There was no book here, no tea, no large window to watch the rain outside. But, Stephen thought, that this weather was actually rather enjoyable.

Stephen never allowed anyone to touch his hands in such a way, or, hell, touch his hands at all. It was asking for too much trust, too much vulnerability on his side.

But with Tony.. Tony made it easy to lend him the trust, to share this vulnerability. It was so easy to let down his walls, allow this genius man in, and let him carve out a corner for himself in Stephen’s heart.

Vishanti, he was in love with this man, mind, soul, and body.

“How do you feel now?” Tony asked, looking up at Stephen with those brown, beautiful, expressive eyes.

Stephen simply leaned in, capturing his lips in a loving kiss. A sound of surprise escaped Tony’s lips, that turned into a delighted laugh as he reciprocated the kiss. Stephen channeled all of his affection, savoring Tony’s lips, hoping it communicated the sheer love he felt towards the genius.

When they parted, Stephen continued to pepper his jaw with more kisses. “Thank you, Tony,” he said as they leaned their foreheads together.

“Anyday for my Sweetcakes,” Tony said, and Stephen didn’t have to open his eyes to read the content smile on Tony’s face. His voice was more than enough.

[maikissed]

cherry flavoured lips part 4

Kylian Mbappé x reader

summary: “Do you even love him?” he chose this tool to at least create a crack. Her gaze empty as she finally looked at him. “I don’t know” and with that last answer she rushed in the direction of the door.

angst

note: sorry for misspells, wanted to post quick, probably will be fixing them later.. and know that at least one more part is coming! :-)

-Sunday, the day of the game-

She was in a sour mood today, the gloomy weather seemed to match her frame of mind. Although maybe she should interpret it as a particular sign that what she was doing could be a mistake. A forecast, a prediction, an astounding fall of the virtue. Deep, hidden somewhere in her consciousness was a worry, that she followed a wrong path, and her choices led her into a lie she chose to be her salvation. If that were to be true, she was not the only person hurt by it.

She dressed properly but despite so felt her skin prickling with the cold. She gazed up into the sky and wondered if it’s going to rain soon. Ian next to her seemed to be very enthralled by the game happening on the pitch below. She used to experience something similar or even more enlivening when she used to attend Kylian’s games in the past. She was always his big supporter, many times she concluded that every emotion he experienced when he played, somehow accompanied her as well, like they were connected. Like she knew exactly what was going on inside his head during any occurrences, the good or the bad, she felt it all. And she adored the sight of him while he was in his element -  focused, determined, brilliant. Today she could not find it, like someone have cut the string. Like she lost it.

He scored two goals already. It was a good game for the opening of the season, she supposed. Kylian’s mother was seated at the farer right to them, she greeted her warmly before the match started. She felt strange with Ian’s presence here, unnatural. She checked the clock, few more minutes for it to end. But there it came again, another shot, another goal, she watched Kylian run across the field, the crowd shouting, celebrating, she blinked and suddenly he appeared close to their stands, his teammates jumped on him, she observed with a straight face, but she clapped. A moment after when he was left alone, she realised he was looking her way intensely. A breath stuck in her lungs, she wondered was what about to happen. Bringing his palm close to his lips he kissed his fingers, pulling his hand away, directing it her way, sending this kiss to her and her only, and later putting said hand on his chest, right on his heart, with a smile on his lips that gave away a strong message. Few steps back while he still faced them, his hand keep on lingering on his heart. After that he run back as the game resumed.

He waited until he scored the fucking third and she knew that what he did just now was planned before. A show off, demonstration of domination.

She turned her head to look at Ian, even though something inside kept telling her that she should ignore it. There was a timid smile on his face, but his eyes were not participating. He noticed. She was preparing herself for explanation she must endure now since Kylian decided to behave like a fucking asshole tonight. But Ian did not ask, she wondered what kind of sign that was.

- Two days later -

Gia was worried for her friend, although y/n always kept on being a composed and clear minded person, she noticed many unsettling changes in her lately. She seemed shut out, kind of sickly, sometimes did not listen when spoken to, distant, what she could clearly spot in her eyes, thoughts fading and disappearing in them slowly when she tried to bring her back to the conversation. Y/n did not want to speak about it, didn’t want to speak about Kylian, any difficult subject she preferred to ignore. Y/n was always rather close and reserved but not to such extend. Gia did not mind. It was not much of an issue before. However she knew there was one person y/n could always freely open up to. One person that was not around now. It must have been a burden for her.

“It’s a pity you don’t want to party on your birthday this year” Gia started as they entered the apartment building.

“I guess I want it different now, I’m kind of tired” y/n concluded, searching for keys in her training bag.

Because it would be strange and unusual. Gia could see that y/n started withering without her closest friend being present in her life.

“Not even a simple night out with your girls?” she tried with a playful smile on her lips, but y/n did not reciprocate the enthusiasm.

“Don’t be angry with me Gi, I think I’ll go back to England for my birthday, probably spend it with just Ian”

Gia simply nodded, following y/n down the corridor. Visibly disheartened at her answer, but y/n was not paying much attention to notice it. As soon as they entered the apartment, a specific scent reached Gia’s nostrils, way too prominent for a simple air freshener and y/n’s reaction confirmed that it made her confused as well. And she could finally see the source of it when they entered the living room. Gia gasped in rapture. The whole room was covered in countless amounts of flower bouquets, some smaller, some so gigantic she was sure they would cover her whole if she picked them up. Roses, peonies, tulips, dahlias, freesias, hydrangeas, so many different colours, so many different variations. Gia was drinking the sight in front of her with wide eyes and mouth opened. The room was spacious and now almost whole covered with the most beautiful flowers she ever saw. Amongst this wondrous flower jungle she spotted Ian, seated rather unbothered and comfortable on the couch, a book in his hand. He looked poorly in contrast with these colours that surrounded him at the moment, almost drowning in it, she thought to herself. And of course she knew who send all these flowers. He outdid himself this year. She could not find any might to stop herself from asking:

“Did he buy out all the finest flower shops in Paris?”

Y/n stirred next to her, and when she looked her way she could finally see some prominent emotion painting on her face. She seemed angry.

“The delivery guy also left this with it” Ian called from the other side of the room, holding a small envelope between his fingers.

Y/n staggered, but after a moment quickly strolled to Ian, taking the papers from his hand. Gia watched the scene curiously. She could not guess what was happening in Ian’s head at the moment, most of the times he seemed to be way too cool and inscrutable for her, almost robotic sometimes. He could be friendly and kind, as she gathered from various encounters, but there was something about his personality that she found boring and repellent. She wondered what exactly y/n saw in him.

Y/n looked up from the paper still present in her hand. She glanced in Gia’s direction but then focused her attention back on Ian.

“This, um…” she started, unsure “This is kind of tradition for Kylian to send me flowers on my birthday week”

Gia could not fight the little smile breaking on her face.

“The guy has gesture” Ian simply emphasized, his gaze hard and sharp.

It clearly made y/n uncomfortable. She could see the distress in her stance, and her eyes when she looked back at Gia.

“Could you drive me to one place?” she cleared her throat “I forgot there was this thing I was supposed to do”

And before Gia could even answer, y/n ran up to her, harshly grasping her arm and guiding her back to the door.

-Back at Gia's birthday party, last weekend-

Y/n behaviour was unsettling, Kylian watched her silhouette disappearing amongst the crowd, wondering if he should follow her. But he happened to appear in a very interesting situation right now, as she left him alone with Ian just like that, and the curiosity got the best of him. It was a perfect opportunity for him to look into this whole charade, as he perceived it. His intentions were not pure at all. He was not exactly angry, he was disturbed and irritated. All of this seemed so fake to him it begun to be bothering.

“How did you guys meet?” he asked, his voice warm and friendly, encouraging.

“At the university” Ian answered, suddenly eyeing Kylian more cautiously since y/n ran off from them.

“You study the same course?” Kylian continued.

“No, I’m doing law” a short and simple response, no further dwelling on the subject.

Kylian suddenly realised that Ian started to consider him a threat. Good. He smiled a little bit derisively at his answer. Of course. Law student, tall and blonde, aristocratic. So posh.

He knew he could not keep it in for far too long. There was no use to it. He didn’t consider Ian a problem, just a temporary obstacle he had to move away. He simply hoped he would not have to drag him across this whole fucking apartment and throw him over the balcony. He hoped.

“I think you should back off” just like that, he simply fired it out, with a confident smile still playing on his lips.

“Excuse me?” Ian scoffed, visibly taken aback by such words, but something in his eyes told Kylian that he was prepared for it.

“Just back off, man. Before it’s too late” he shrugged playing with the glass in his hand.

“I don’t seem to follow, man” he articulated the last word as a mockery at his words. His stance not so relaxed no more, he sensed the attack.

“I don’t know what you believe you got yourself there, but the little game she is playing right now is not involving a very good ending for you” he declared surely, watching Ian’s face distort into a muddled frown, that brought even a wider smile to Kylian’s face.

Ian seemed to be a snob, but not an idiot.

“How so?” he asked, stepping away from him slightly, like a defensive position, like preparing himself for a fight.

But Kylian did not intend to fight with him at any point. Not when he had all the fights already won.

“Because she’s mine”

-Present-

The doors to his apartment turned out to be opened as he found out, unsuccessfully trying to turn the key in the lock. It surprised him, because never before he happened to forget to lock it. Maybe his mother payed him a visit. That was the most probable thought. But as he entered the saloon, to his further surprise, he spotted y/n seated on the big couch that almost swallowed her small frame. Her legs bent and placed at her side, she watched him enter, scowling.

“I see you kept the key” he pointed out, throwing his training back next to the kitchen counter.

She did not answer him, instead stayed silent, focusing her gaze on something outside the window. Whenever she faced a difficult conversation, she needed a moment to compose and prepare herself to speak out. He sensed her rage coming at him yet again. He was glad she was here.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, quietly, but he could hear.

He wondered if her smug puppet brought up their conversation to her. He was not going to deny anything.

“I could ask you the same” he retorted.

She turned her head sharply to look at him. There was sadness and there was longing, she was struggling with it. He could not stand to see her like this.

“The fucking flowers, Kylian?” she ignored his answer.

“I send you flowers every year a week before your birthday, what’s so knew, y/n?”

He circled the room and stopped in the kitchen, searching for a clean glass to pour them some water. Did he forget to turn on the dishwasher? Most likely.

“You outdid yourself this year” she sneered and the tone and reproach heard in her statement cut him like an arrow to his heart “My whole apartment is drowning in them”

“So you do like them?” the room was deadly quiet, his voice like tired.

But she did not intend to answer this question, ignoring everything he said from the very start.

“The kiss at the game?!” she asked now, more piqued.

“Another goal I dedicated to you, what’s so new, y/n?” now there was annoyance as he raised his voice, agitated, frustrated.

“It’s improper now, Kylian!” she almost hollered, feeling even more defensive “Are you trying to prove something here? Is this your game?! To torture me?! To ruin everything?”

It was a very strange situation for him to encounter, strange and unreal to the point that he started to wonder what has happened to her. How come that she begun to act like this towards him, like she has thrown away everything they have been through together, the life they’ve lived together. She accused him of things that did not make any sense to him. He was the main villain in her story, and how did it came to it?

“You’re being so unfair” he stated, his voice quieter and gentler, but there was a bold confidence in his walk as he neared her “You threw me out the door, distanced yourself completely, started treating me like necessary evil. Got yourself a boyfriend and with no further explanation decided to shut me out from your life. How does it make you feel, y/n?”

She blinked as she looked up at him, a little bit in shock and resentment. He was keeping his distance from her, not wanting to scare her since he could not really determine her behaviour. But still, he could see tears pooling in her eyes. He decided on sitting down on the armchair opposite her. No closeness, no tenderness, it was not a moment for it.

“If you did not came with a foolish idea to kiss me that day…” she started with a little sniff but he felt that she was trying to come up with another shallow excuse.

“What’s so hard about a normal conversation?” he hissed, knowing he was being rough now. But he was hurt and he hated that feeling “I kissed you, you had a boyfriend already, said nothing about it earlier to add to that, keeping secrets. Why did you push me away?”

He needed to hear an answer to that question. Because he had troubles to explain it to himself, to find a real reason. His whole body started buzzing with adrenaline. At this point he was determined to have this bold and honest conversation with her, wanted to spit out all his fury and pain, but at the same time he feared the consequences, feared she would leave his apartment and never spoke to him again. Shut him out for good. He did not know what to truly expect. It was frightening.

“We had a conversation” she started after few minutes, weakly.

He was quicker with responses.

“Not about that, not about us in this whole new reality”

“Whole new reality?” she suddenly acted offended, almost standing up from her seat, her hands at her sides as she leaned forward “So what, it did not came to your attention that one day I would find someone I would like to share something intimate with?!”

But now he was silenced. Although despite of that, he felt fury taking over his senses. Oh, God, if he do not stop himself… Still, he felt the urge to fight for them.

“Don’t do this” he stated, confidently, his cheeks heating “Come back to me” it was supposed to come out as a plea, but truthfully sounded more possessively.

“Kylian, we need to set boundaries, I…”

“Fuck that, I don’t want boundaries” he scoffed and she looked aggravated “Dump that tosser and just come back to me, please” but now it was an honest plea and it almost sounded pathetic.

“So you can have me when you want, how you want, and still play around as you like?” she breathed “Have you ever realised how many times I had to go through this?” she spat, standing up and now it was panic overtaking him, so he stood up after her, desperate for her not to leave him.

“I would never make such mistake again, please, just let me…” he stepped closer to her but she shunned away, taking a step back.

He could hear a pained groan coming from her as she turned to look away from him. She was acting cool and distant, but he could see that she was fighting with it. Struggling how to handle this situation well.

“I should go” she muttered, still not facing him, keeping up the wall, the blockade between them strong and unyielding.

He lacked the power to break through it. Helpless.

“Do you even love him?” he chose this tool to at least create a crack.

Her gaze empty as she finally looked at him.

“I don’t know” and with that last answer she rushed in the direction of the door.

Kylian stood there in this one spot unmoving, his heart beating but numb, his thoughts notable but messy, his breathing steady but painful. He seemed calm if you noticed him lingering there, in the middle of the spacious room, but the calmness disappeared quickly as soon as he reached for the elegant lamp standing way too close to him, on the little coffee table next to his left hand. The next second the room was filled with a sharp and piercing noise of stoneware shattering against the wall.

[ssinnerplazahotel]

𝘽𝙞𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙚&𝙀

╭──────────.★..─╮

*Chapter Two*

╰─..★.──────────╯

WC: 6k

Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff

Pairing: elvis x black reader

Masterlist: Prologue, Ch.1

Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items

AFTER THE WHOLE PILLAR DEBACLE, you figured things wouldn’t go back to the way they were when it came to Elvis. And you were right to assume so.

You also knew that he was gifted in his ability to scope you out no matter what room of the house you were in. But his advances towards you became increasingly more frequent as time continued. It started small, a few glances here or there, a good morning when he came downstairs in the middle of the evening, a goodnight when he finally went to bed in the morning. But he never did anything to give the impression that something was going on between the two of you, no matter how minute the feelings he had for you were.

As the weeks passed you could tell that he was becoming more and more restless, annoyed with not being able to talk to you freely. You had to admit that you enjoyed your brief encounters throughout the day, and you might’ve also enjoyed his restlessness.

“Hey, babydoll.”

“Watch it.”

He snuck up on you in the kitchen one gloomy afternoon. He stood behind you as he reached over your head for a glass, his hand resting dangerously on your hip. You shooed him away—preoccupied with checking items off your to-do list for the day.

“Dawn’s around here somewhere,” You said.

“She always is.” He walked over to the sink and ran some water into his glass. He would soon abandon it on the counter, merely using it as an excuse to be in the kitchen. “I’ve gotta get to a show t’night. You should come. See me in action and everything.”

“You know I can’t.” Even if you could, you didn’t see yourself ever going.

He hummed in thought but didn’t look too disappointed. “If you come by my room after I won’t be so sad to not see you there.”

“What?” He had a persuasive look in his eyes—it didn’t outshine the hope that lingered there as well. “Why?”

“Because I want you to, that’s why.” He smirked. “I wanna talk. I miss you.”

“You miss me?” You couldn’t help but laugh in amusement at the confession. Not because you didn’t believe him, but because his feelings seemed unwarranted. “We talk every day.”

It was true. You spoke on daily basis—so much so that the days that went by when you didn’t see each other felt strange. You didn’t realize it then, but looking back now, the days were longer. Quieter, perhaps, because you weren’t anticipating him like you did when you knew he was home.

“I wanna talk to you for real.” He peaked out of the propped open door before moving closer. “Without any distractions,” He continued in a low voice. “Just wanna focus on my girl.”

“Your girl?” You quirked an eyebrow. “Since when?”

“Since you almost fainted when I told you how bad I want you.” He toyed with the scarf hanging from your apron. “Unless you forgot about that already.”

Before you could even begin to recall the embarrassing experience, he plucked the scarf from your waist and held it out of your reach. “Hey!”

“Hey. You come see me tonight and I’ll make sure you get your pretty little scarf back, okay, honey?”

“Elvis~”

“If you don’t,” He hummed tauntingly as he walked away with the scarf. “You might never see it again.”

“Elvis~”

“I’ll see you t’night.”

You groaned lowly in defeat as he disappeared without another word. You didn’t see him again until that night when he and his entourage were heading out for the show. The pouring rain didn’t seem to put a damper on their mood. You were good about keeping your eyes to yourself whenever Elvis was around, but you couldn’t help but let your gaze linger momentarily when you saw your scarf tied around his neck. You looked around for any sign of Dawn, and your stomach dropped when you saw her coming down the stairs.

“Good luck, Mr. Presley,” She said in passing as she headed in your direction.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Elvis responded. He met your wide eyes and where he saw panic in your own, he seemed amused.

You turned around to dart into the next room but your aunt stopped you, handing you a basket of linens that needed to be washed.

“I’ll get them done now.”

“Did you lose your scarf?” She asked before you could rush off.

You looked down at where it usually would be. “I guess I did.”

Dawn hummed before continuing into the living room. You hurried off to the laundry room. You made a mental note to give Elvis a piece of your mind when he returned later that night.

Despite the panic coursing through you, you couldn’t help the tiny butterflies that erupted in the pit of your stomach. It seemed like you were in a constant battle with yourself when it came to him. Although you’d given up on trying to stay away, you weren’t able to let yourself go. Your hesitation seemed futile, even to yourself. There was no such thing as testing the waters when it came to Elvis Presley. Even if you tried to dip your toes in little by little—you’d eventually fall right in.

*

You could feel the house come to life when everyone got back that night. If the noise wasn’t enough of a tell, the energy everyone returned with was somewhat contagious. You felt your nerves ignite when you remembered that Elvis expected you to come to his room. It wasn’t that the thought had ever escaped you, you had just suppressed it all night in an attempt to not drive yourself insane. As you were trying to talk yourself into keeping your word there was a knock on your door. Your eyes widened. It had to be him.

“W-Who is it?” You smoothed the front of your mahogany skirt—subconsciously adjusting your hair while going to get the door. A voice that wasn’t Elvis’ responed, causing your steps to falter before you hesitantly pulled the door open. “Oh, Mr. West.”

You put on a polite smile. Sonny West. Dawn told you he was Elvis’ bodyguard. You always avoided talking to him, you didn’t know why. Subconsciously, you may have feared him.

“Can I help you?”

“Elvis can’t seem to find that marigold drinking glass of his.” He sized you up as he spoke. “Said you might know where it is.”

You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “Well, I’m sure it’s in the cupboard if it’s not in his room.”

“If you find it, run it by his room,” Sonny said. “He gets all nit-picky about certain things when he wants to.”

“I’ll go look for it now.”

“I’ll let him know.”

You waited for him to walk away before leaving yourself. Your heart hammered against your rib cage as you went to find the drinking glass. Out of all the glasses in all the rooms of the house, you couldn’t figure out why he wanted that one in particular. It wasn’t until you found the glass and got to his room that you realized it was just a ploy to get you there. You almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation before knocking lightly on the door.

When the door opened you expected to see the usual wide-eyed, bushy tailed Elvis you’d grown so accustomed to. Instead you were greeted with a weary smile and tired eyes. He’d changed out of the get up he left in. Although he looked exhausted he still dressed presentably in a pair of black slacks and a midnight blue dress shirt.

“I see you got my message.” He leaned against the door. “You didn’t think I’d let you stand me up, did you, birdie?”

“I was actually on my way.” You walked past him. You looked around for a moment and took in the layout of the room. It was your first time seeing it for all it was and you instantly felt transported to another place entirely. “I don’t appreciate you sending Sonny to interrogate me like I stole something.”

“I told him to get you to bring me the glass, I didn’t know he was gonna be hard-ass about it.” He shut the door and took the glass from your hands. “I actually hate this thing. It always looks like it’s stained, dirty or somethin.”

“You look exhausted.” You pointed out. “Rough night?”

“Just coming down. You shoulda seen me a little while ago, I was like a live wire.” He made a crazy face that made you laugh and set the glass on the table by the door, adding to the endless clutter. He wrapped his arms around your waist—leaving your hands to rest on his chest. The physicality made the hairs on your neck and arms stand at attention as you anticipated what he would do next. You never could tell with him. A part of you started to fear what he might have been expecting from you. “Can I get you somethin?”

“My mother’s scarf, actually.” You tried to hide your nerves by toying with the top button of his shirt.

“So it’s your mama’s pretty scarf?” He hummed in enlightenment. “I see.”

“Yeah, and if I don’t get it back she’s gonna have a real problem with you. You didn’t lose it, did you?”

“Course not, baby. Come sit right here for a minute.” He pulled away from the embrace and took your hand—leading you to the bed and sitting you down. “Don’t move, stay right there for me. And close your eyes.”

“Elvis~” You started, cutting your eye apprehensively.

“Do it,” He insisted as he walked into his large closet. “I’ll tell you when you can look.”.

You did what he asked, keeping an ear out for when he came back. You sensed him stopping in front of you before you felt the bed dip beside you. A necklace was placed around your neck, the cool chain rested weightlessly against your collarbone as he secured the clasp with clumsy fingers.

“Okay, you gotta see it in the light.” You opened your eyes as he pulled you up from the bed and into the bathroom.

His words didn’t fully make sense until he pushed you in front of him to stand in the mirror. Your eyebrows furrowed momentarily in confusion before your features softened.

“Elvis…” You met his eyes through your reflection.

“I saw it the other day and it reminded me of you.” He stood behind you and put his arms around your waist. “D’you like it?”

It was a thin, gold-chained necklace with a golden lark charm attached. The diamond eye of the bird dazzled under the light.

“It’s beautiful, it really is.” You smiled. “But I can’t let you give me this.”

“Why?” Disappointment graced his soft features when he looked down at you.

“Dawn would think I stole this if she ever saw me with it.” You laughed—shifting in his arms to meet his eyes. “It’s thoughtful of you, really~”

“Honey, if that’s what’s stopping you, don’t let her catch you with it,” He said. “Wear it for me. She’ll never know.”

“I think she knows a little more than we think. Especially after that stunt you pulled earlier,” You said. “You should really be more careful.”

Elvis agreed, but he sounded distracted. “I wouldn’t want her gettin ahold of ya.”

“You’ve said that before.” The smile on your face faded as you tried to make something of his inscrutable expression. “What is it?”

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve seen.”

“You must be delirious.”

He laughed shortly—his tongue darting out to moisten his lips. “Nah, baby, I ain’t delirious.”

The space between his lips and yours steadily decreased as he stared into your eyes.

“You’re beautiful.”

“Elvis~”

You weren’t sure what your tone was meant to convey. Your brain short circuited. You didn’t want him to stop. You’ve never wanted anything more than you wanted him to kiss you, but you pulled away.

“E-Elvis.” Your lips were mere centimeters apart.

“What’s wrong?” He looked concerned when he turned you in his arms to face him completely. “Am I overwhelming you?”

“No, It’s not that, I just…” You trailed off, mostly out of embarrassment, as you forced yourself to finish your sentence. “I-I’ve never done this before.”

“Done what?”

“This, I’ve never done this.”

He processed your words slowly. A hint of confusion still remained when he spoke again.

“You ain’t never kissed anyone?”

“No, I haven’t. I’ve never been with anyone, ever.”

He fell silent—looking off to the side with that same confused expression.

“Well I’ll be goddamned…no wonder you almost hit the ground the other night.”

“Elvis!”

You whined as he threw his head back in laughter. You couldn’t find anything funny, only cripplingly embarrassing.

“It ain’t nothing to be embarrassed about,” He said through his laughter. “I mean, I’m sure there are plenty girls your age that haven’t.”

“If there are I don’t know any of them.” You crossed your arms and leaned back against the counter.

“You saving yourself or something?” He leaned forward against the counter with a hand on either side of you. Caging you in with an amused gleam in his eye.

“It’s not that.” It was true. You just hadn’t found the right person, you told him.

“Why do you think that is?” His tone sounded genuinely interested.

“I expect too much.”

“You deserve to.”

“That’s sweet.”

“You think I’m sweet?”

“Yes.”

“…Sweet enough for you?”

You smiled softly and he slipped his arms around your waist again. He held you close to him and returned your gentle smile, his hands trailing over your hips and taking your hands in his before stepping back. He lead you out of the bathroom without a word, taking you back into the room and onto his exceptionally large bed. If you ever thought you had butterflies before that moment you were mistaken. You watched him with anxious eyes as he joined you on the bed. His fingers graced over the goosebumps rising on your arms. You craved his touch as much as you anticipated his every move.

Your breath hitched audibly when he moved to close the space between you and the smile on his lips momentarily deepened into a smirk. Your eyes fluttered shut and you held your breath as his lips moved to press gently against yours. His hands caressed your face and you melted into his touch. You parted your lips and let him invade your senses with a silent gasp.

You found yourself clinging to the front of his shirt in a moment of desperation before he broke the kiss. You were surprised to find his pupils blown—his jaw clenching as his eyes darted over your features. For a moment you thought you did something wrong, but you recognized the expression on his face despite your lack of experience.

He craved you just as you craved him.

There was a flicker of consideration behind his hungry eyes before he released a tense breath. He grazed his thumbs gently over the apples of your cheeks and placed a gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth. He lingered before pulling away completely. You watched him move down to the head of the bed and lie down on the pillows, gesturing for you to join him—which you did without question. He laid his head on one arm and the other draped over you.

He laughed at your expectant expression. “That’s all for now, honey.”

“Why?” You asked, earning another short laugh from him. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, it’s nothing like that. I don’t wanna hurt you, baby. I wanna be good to you and I can’t right now.”

You were suddenly aware of his tired eyes again and you nodded in understanding.

“Tell me about your day.”

You insisted he sleep. “You can barely keep your eyes open.”

“I want to talk.”

“Another time,” You teased, moving to sit up.

“You can stay until I fall asleep,” He said, keeping you there. “Don’t leave yet.”

You thought about it for a moment. You knew deep down that you should’ve left then, but how could you when he begged with his eyes like that? That subtle insistence that urged you to please stay? You settled back down. “Only until you fall asleep.”

He smiled in victory and pulled you closer—pressing another kiss to your lips before laying his head down and closing his eyes.

“Am I sweet enough for you, birdie?”

“Too sweet.”

His features softened and his breathing eventually evened out. You stayed for a while longer, watching him sleep as he held you. You never wanted the night to end, but you forced yourself to leave him there alone. You crept back across the hall to your room without anyone seeing you and climbed into your own bed. Exhausted by the events of the night—you fell asleep quickly.

*

You never hated your birthdays. You usually looked forward to spending time with your mother and what few friends you had in high school. However, high school was over now and your mother wasn’t there to make you breakfast or to tell you the story of your birth—which she had made a habit out of doing every year. Dawn had tried to feel you out for a gift but you insisted she not get you anything. You wanted to go about the day like normal.

It was just another day.

You were exhausted after preparing for Elvis’ Thanksgiving dinner party. Dawn sure you knew that working Thanksgiving night wasn’t for the faint of heart. It was a long week of preparation followed by a long day of making sure there was enough food to feed a small army. The excitement of all the preparation was starting to wear off and you found yourself slightly dreading the party tomorrow.

Your dread dissipated ever so slightly when Elvis knocked on your door that night. You hadn’t noticed the way your mood elevated when you saw him, but it was undeniable. Despite the way your heart raced as the butterflies soared in your stomach, you were still miserably tired.

“I know, baby, but I wanna show you something,” He insisted upon hearing your complaints. He walked into your room holding a bag.

“What’s that?” You wondered.

He turned to you with a smug smile before holding the ivory paper bag out to you.

“Happy Birthday.”

“How did you…”

He pressed his lips together, smothering a laugh. “I heard Dawn talkin about how it was your birthday a couple days ago and you wasn’t wantin nothing so~”

“You got me something?”

He took your hand and made you grab the bag. “I had to.”

“Elvis.”

“Take it, for me. So I’ll at least feel better knowin I got you something.”

You didn’t have it in you to deny him—he was so excited. “What is it?”

“Open it and find out.” He stood back and watched your reaction.

You reached into the bag and pulled out the white rectangular box inside, it looked like it came from a department store. You let the ivory bag fall to your feet as you balanced the box on your arm and opened it. Your eyes widened as you lifted the pure white nightie slightly from the box. It was lined with gold embroidery that twisted and turned into small flowers along the hem.

“You shouldn’t have done this.”

“You’re just terrible at receiving gifts, y’know,” He said with a proud smile taking over his features. “I-I was gonna get you a pretty little dress, but I knew you’d never wear it. Cause of Dawn and everything. So I got you this.”

“It’s beautiful, it is,” You said—still admiring the nightwear. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, doll.” He took the box out of your arms and set it on the bed. “Try it on for me, make sure it fits.”

“I’m sure it will.”

“C’mon,” He drawled, pulling your body against his. “Let me put it on you.”

You let out a nervous laugh. Your slick response died on your tongue when he reached for the hem of the old nightgown you were already wearing. His fingers brushed your thighs, waiting.

“Okay.”

He smiled, happy with your response, and he ducked his head to leave a sweet kiss on your lips. “Good girl,” He murmured against your mouth before pulling the gown up over your head. Goosebumps rose on your skin as you stood before him, bare aside from the plain white panties you wore under your gown. You felt the urge to cover yourself, you had never been exposed to anyone like this. But something about the way his eyes shamelessly roamed your body made you forget your discomfort. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he grabbed the white nightie from the box. He slipped it carefully over your head—-helping you slip your arms through before letting it fall gracefully over your body. The silk felt like a cloud on your skin, reaching just before the middle of your thighs. It was a complete contrast to the polyester nightgown you were wearing before. He looked pleased as he helped you slip into the robe, adjusting it on your shoulders.

“Alright, now do a little spin.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he held your hand up over your head and spun you around.

You put your arms around his neck when you faced him again. Before you could speak he was kissing you, deeper that time. You parted your lips willingly, still unsure but eager to match his pace. His tongue slipped into your mouth and you felt so utterly inexperienced in his arms. He broke the kiss eventually, trailing a kiss or two down your jaw before pulling away completely.

“I wanna show you something else.”

“If it’s another gift—”

“It’s not exactly, but it kinda goes with this one, I guess.” He sounded amused.

“What is it?”

“I have a promise to keep, don’t I, honey?”

He only smiled as he bent down to kiss you—pushing the silk robe off your shoulders as his tongue roamed your mouth. You felt dizzy.

The further you inched towards the bed, the more eager you became. Your body lit up with want. He continued to trail kisses down your neck until he kissed the top of your breasts, exposed by the low-cut neck of the nightie.

He was gentle in the way he handled you. You thought he was maybe going easy on you– because he thought you were fragile. Perhaps he could sense how insanely hyper aware you were of everything that was happening. He continued on like this for a while, his gentle fingers roaming your skin and smoothing the silk fabric over your curves. After he’d had his fill of kissing you, he stripped you of your new nightie just as meticulously as he had dressed you in it—slipping the thin straps slowly from your shoulders until it fell into a graceful heap on the ground.

You felt a foreign feeling wash over you as he pushed you further onto the bed, laying you back as he hovered over you. You could feel the heat radiating from both your bodies as you pulled him closer.

“You sure about this, pretty?” He asked, lifting his head to meet your eyes.

“Yes.” You weren’t sure you’d ever been more sure.

He smiled, leaning up to leave a chaste kiss on your lips before continuing to kiss down your body.

Your breathing started to pick up as you lifted yourself onto your elbows, watching as he kissed the exposed part of your hip, just above the top of your panties, and hooked his fingers under the thin material before slipping them slowly down your legs. Your breath hitched in your throat when he continued to trail kisses down the inside of your thigh. He hummed in amusement when you shied away.

“Have you ever touched yourself?” His were voice the only thing getting through to your brain, you couldn’t decipher his words, however. He chuckled when you didn’t answer, kneeling between your legs to hover over you again. “Talk to me, birdie,” He said, meeting your unfocused eyes. “Have you?”

“No.” The only thing you could focus on was the way his right hand rested against your lower stomach, still and idle. “I-I’ve tried but I never…”

“I’ll show you how.”

“Okay.”

Your body reacted to him in ways that you had never experienced. You crooned at his every touch and your breath heaved at every crude word that left his lips. Words that, prior to that night, you had only heard passed around by people at school. Yet, somehow, there you were, hearing them being utter by the most gorgeous man you had ever seen. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t disobey the urge you had to let him consume you. Your body was making its own decisions—leaving your brain to process what was happening after it was already done.

He didn’t make love to you like you thought he would. Instead, he slipped a calloused hand between your tender thighs and played your body like a song—letting each whimper that left your love bitten lips become its melody.

His melody.

He whispered in your ear all the things you wanted and needed to hear and you held onto him—bracing yourself. His words were enough to send you careening over that steep edge. Your eyes rolled and the feeling completely consumed you from the inside out. He didn’t pull away until a short sob left your lips, shushing you gently as he wrapped his arm around you. You were barely able to register him leaving your soulless body, but you missed the heat of his the second he was gone.

You forced your eyes open. You felt small in your bed. Your body trembled—still recovering from the intense fire that had been set inside of you. You almost felt alone as you laid there with the air turning cold around you.

“Elvis?”

“Hold tight, baby.”

His voice was muffled by the wall and the sound of the faucet running. It felt like forever before he joined you again.

“I’m gonna clean you up, okay?”

You flinched when he pressed the warm cloth against you, delicately wiping away your release before standing and disappearing into the bathroom again. When he returned he covered you with the throw blanket that stayed on the end of your bed before laying beside you and pulling you into his arms.

“I think I love you.”

“Don’t say that, birdie…you’ll regret it.”

You wanted to tell him that he was wrong, that love was the only word you could use to describe the things you felt for him. But you decided not to argue. Instead you allowed yourself to get lost in the scent of his musky cologne and the warmth of his embrace.

Nothing could’ve ruined that evening for you.

*

{It was thanksgiving day.}

You hadn’t expected to go downstairs and find your aunt talking on the kitchen phone with a grim expression on her face. She spoke quietly to whoever was on the other line. You hadn’t expected her to hang up and tell you that your mother wasn’t doing well. That she was taken to the hospital and they’d already done everything they could for her. It was the last thing you were expecting.

You’d spoken to your mother on the phone less than a week ago on your birthday and she reassured you that everything was fine, that she was actually feeling a lot better than she had been for months.

“Your brother thinks she’ll pull through,” Dawn said, holding your hands in hers as she broke the news. “But the doctors say we should start making preparations~”

“Oh god.” You pulled your hands away and leaned forward against the counter. You legs felt weak beneath you. “She told me she was fine, w-why would she~”

“I know.” Dawn’s voice was unsteady as she rubbed your back. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise.”

“They say guests should arrive around one,” Cynthia, a fellow housekeeper that was close friends with Dawn, said walking into the kitchen. “Do you think we’ll have everything done before then?”

“A couple hours after if not,” Dawn managed to say, putting on a brave face. “Get the table linens from the dryer, hon.”

You nodded, thankful for the escape.

Your body was on autopilot as you followed her orders, your mind jumping from one thing to another so quickly you weren’t sure what you were thinking. You didn’t know how you were going to be able to afford a funeral, you didn’t know how you were even going to manage to put one together. You never thought the day would come when you would have to think about such things and it made your stomach churn, unsettled. You tried to hold on to the same hope your brother had that she would pull through, a part of you knew it was futile.

You felt guilty for hoping. Hoping that she would live to continue on with her life of pain and suffering, it was selfish.

Pain and suffering that you’d witnessed first hand, nonetheless, pain and suffering that you so desperately wanted her to be free of.

People started showing up a little after one, just as Cynthia had said. The house was all made up and filled with friends and family members, most of whom you’d never seen before. You tried your best to put on a polite expression despite how much you wanted to curl up and cry. You willed for the night to be over, desperately wanting to call your brother and at least let your mother hear your voice.

A few hours into the nights, as you cleared a tray of dirty dishes into the sink to be washed, your mind ran rampant with thoughts of getting to the train station to buy a ticket home. You wondered if you could make it there before the end of the day tomorrow, or maybe sometime later into the night. It didn’t matter, as long as you got there.

“Birdie~” You startled out of your thoughts, the glass in your hands slipping through your fingers and shattering onto the ground. Your eyes widened in horror as you knelt down to gather the larger pieces of broken glass. You grabbed it with your bare hands, which might not have been the best idea.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” You cried. “I’m so sorry~”

“Hey, woah.” Elvis knelt down and stopped you, making you drop the few pieces of glass in your hands. “Don’t do that, honey, you’ll hurt yourself.”

“I’m s-sorry,” You said again, tears springing into your eyes as you stood to grab the broom. “I’ll get it up, i-it slipped—”

“Slow down,” He said, standing with you. He stopped you with his hands on your waist and tried to meet your teary eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Dawn’s voice called out to you before you saw her entering the kitchen. “What happened?”

You shook your head, abandoning the broken glass on the ground as all your emotions suddenly came to a head. You rushed out of the kitchen, trying to make it up the stairs and out of sight before you let the tears in your eyes fall.

“I’ll make sure she’s alright, Ms. Dawn,” Elvis said before she could rush after you. “D’you mind gettin this up, I don’t want the kids or anybody hurtin themselves.”

He didn’t catch much besides a confused expression from Dawn before he left the kitchen, skipping up the stairs to your room where he found you sitting on your bed with your head in your hands. “Birdie,” He said, sitting beside you and pulling you into his arms. “W-What’s the matter?”

“I’m sorry a-about the glass~”

“I don’t care about the glass, it doesn’t matter.” He brought his hands up to cup your face, thumbing away your tears uselessly. “What happened?”

“M-My mother,” You tried to explain through your tears. “She’s…she’s not doing well.”

“Oh…” He trailed off, at a loss for words. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” You sobbed. “If I lose her…”

He didn’t say much in response, only a constant string of apologies fell from his lips as he tried his best to console you. “Breathe, baby,” he hummed as he rocked you in his arms. “You gotta try to breathe.”

Your bedroom door opened then and Dawn came in, quickly moving to take Elvis’ place. “I’m sorry, Mr. Presley, I’ll take it from here,” She said. “You should get back to your party.”

“It’s no problem.” He stood from the bed, lingering there for a moment. “She should take the rest of the night off. Both of you should, really.”

Dawn nodded. “Thank you.”

He stood there for another moment, wanting to say something more but deciding against it. He wished you both a good night and left the room.

You moved away from Dawn, very obviously not okay even though you insisted that you were. “Leave me alone.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please.”

She sighed and stood to leave, patting your shoulder once before walking out of the door. “I’ll come check on you again before the end of the night,” She said as she closed the door.

“Is she alright?” Elvis asked, startling Dawn as she suddenly became aware of his presence in the hall.

“Elvis, honey,” She said with a hand over her heart. “I thought you went back downstairs.”

“I wanted to make sure everything was alright,” He said, not doing a very good job at hiding his concerned eyes. “I’ve never seen her so upset.”

“Her mother, my sister, she’s very sick,” Dawn explained. “She has been for a while now. It was just a matter of time, so...” Her eyes were glossed over with tears.

Elvis nodded, staring off with an unreadable expression. “I’m sorry…”

“You should get back downstairs.”

“No, I’m gonna…if they ask where I am tell ‘em I turned in,” He said, walking past Dawn in the direction of his bedroom. “I’m goin to bed.”

“But the party~”

“I don’t feel like havin a party anymore.” He walked away, his mood shifting suddenly. “Tell Sonny to take care of it. Please.”

Dawn stood there in shock as he retreated to his room and shut the door, leaving it up to her to relay the message.

As you laid in bed that night you heard your door creak open and shut softly before you felt the side of your bed dip down under Elvis’ weight.

“Birdie?” He whispered as he put his arm around you. You turned around in his arms, burying your face in his chest as he held you. “You okay?”

“I’m scared. I’m so scared.”

“…I’m sorry.”

Your mother died that night—over a thousand miles away with only your brother there to hold her hand as she took her final breaths.

You didn’t want to believe it. You so badly wanted to believe anything else. Even as you packed your bag for the trip home you didn’t want to believe it. The entire way there, and through the entire funeral service, you wanted so desperately not to believe it. You wanted to cry as they lowered your mother’s casket into the ground, you wanted to fall to your knees and beg god to take you with her, but all you could do was stand there and watch. Frozen and unmoving.

When the service came to an end and all was said and done you still didn’t move an inch. Staring at the uneven soil of the fresh plot that your mother was buried in.

Buried…gone.

You felt multiple hands lead your frozen body to the car before you were placed inside, your eyes looking at the green tent still pitched outside until they strained to see.

As numb as you were, you still felt the hole in your chest where your heart should’ve been. It was empty, hollow. Void. You were feeling everything yet nothing all at once and you didn’t know whether to lean into it or run away. Nothing felt right, nothing felt settled like it was supposed to be. You felt on edge, waiting for the moment that you would snap out of it and wake up.

You waited for the moment that you would open your eyes back in your childhood home with your mother downstairs cooking you a hot meal before school. A moment that, not even a year ago, had been your reality.

You closed your eyes as the dust from the dirt road surrounding the cemetery picked up around the car, praying that when you opened them you’d be back in that place with your mother and all her warmth.

As you drifted off into unconsciousness, you knew you’d never feel that warmth again.

***