#because while it would never happen because (as the next Road to Hell chapter shows) Enji is not touching that district with a ten foot pol

[princess-of-the-corner]

Opinion on the idea of role-swap AU where everyone only swaps one random trait per pair? (like say, Audrey is the one who stayed in Paris while Andre dipped but its still very much regular Audrey. Or Shoto going to Aldera instead of Katsuki)

Honestly we have plenty of AU ideas that stem from 'character A does something different/Character A and B swap roles'.

[bettyfrommars]

Dirty Metal Summer

a Dirty Dancing au

Part 1: Big Girls Don't Cry

Eddie x fem!Reader

MASTERLIST PLAYLIST

It's 1987, the same year the movie Dirty Dancing was originally released. 21-year-old reader is spending the summer with her dad and aunt at an all-inclusive resort in Indiana while she figures out what she wants to do with her life. After that summer, nothing will never be the same. Eddie is in his late 20’s and works as maintenance staff, he is also the frontman for the house band, begrudgingly delivering top 40 hits for the guests, and a secret third thing. When work is over, there is a completely different scene happening at a place the employees call The Hideout. Wayne is the head maintenance man, Chrissy is a metalhead, and a few other surprises. Bonus: Steve as a sexy, tattooed musician because I can't help myself.

my blog is always 18+only, MDNI please. The only warnings for the first chapter have to do with mention of a death of a parent, mention of grief, allusions to depression, a tiny bit of aggression, and alcohol consumption. But please read chapter warnings as the story progresses, because there will be angst, hurt/comfort, violence (fighting), and smut. Reader is called Bird as a nickname.

A/N: this is a rewrite of an OC fic I wrote over a year ago, and damn, I really needed to change a lot because my writing has evolved so much. I know I posted a snippet last week, but it's all been changed. Thank you to those who have been excited about this, I know Dirty Dancing is a cherished film, so I am treating this retelling with reverence, while adding some creative spins, and I truly hope you enjoy. The ST characters in this fic do not know each other in the same way they did in the show. For instance, Eddie, Steve, and Chrissy all grew up together, but I do my best to stick with their original character traits. This first part lines up very close with the film, but after that, it diverges and becomes a bit different. Same story line, but also not.

Part 1: Big Girls Don't Cry

word count: 6.3k

The soft murmur of a talk radio station hummed in the cement gray Mercedes-Benz 560, with your dad behind the wheel and his sister, your aunt Kim, in the passenger seat.  From the backseat, you stared out the window with your headphones on, wishing for rain.  The scenery was what you would expect from a place on earth that everyone considered idyllic, but you’d been exposed to so much lush greenery with that bright blue, theater backdrop of a sky for the last hour that you were starting to get a headache. 

You pushed your wayfarer sunglasses up to rub the bridge of  your nose, and then flipped the tape over in your Walkman before clicking it shut to press play.  You were listening to a mixtape you’d made especially for the trip, the spine even said “road trip from hell”, but the first one on side b was Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac, and you closed your eyes for the next several songs.  You were doing your best not to think about how you’d be trapped in BFE Indiana for a whole month.

You were also doing your best not to think about how your mother would not be home when you got back, or worse yet, the fact that you would never see her again.  Never feel her generous hugs in those Laura Ashley dresses, smelling of Shalimar; never hear her voice at the other end of the line reminding you to eat something.  

Your aunt said your name and your eyes snapped open.  It was perfect timing because tears were beginning to form at your lash line. She had turned around in her seat and was trying to get your attention.

You pulled your headphones down around your neck.  ��Sorry?”

“The lake,” the expression on her face harbored more excitement than you’d ever felt in your entire life.  “Isn’t it gorgeous? We’re going to get pedicures at the spa tomorrow, I already booked it.”

You glanced at your father’s stoic profile and then back to Kim. You felt bad for your aunt, getting stuck on a trip with two sad, mopey fucks who were too depressed to get excited about the things that thrilled normal people.  You were the walking wounded.

“Pedicures, great,” your smile did not reach your eyes, but she didn’t seem to notice, as her enthusiasm doggedly refused to wane.  

It had been almost four months since you lost her, and the world was still too…bright.  Everyone was so talkative and alive and you couldn’t relate. 

You looked out over the smooth expanse of lake that was nestled perfectly in the trees like you were in some type of miniature scale model rebuild of a town.  Your aunt asked your dad, Owen, if he was still listening to the news, and when he shook his head, she changed the radio station to a golden oldies station and was satisfied with the tune Big Girls Don’t Cry by Frankie Vallie.

“You’ll love this cabin, Bird,” your dad said to you as the Mercedes crested the hill and began to maneuver down to your destination on a narrow, two-lane highway flanked with towering trees.  A big green and white sign welcomed them to Hawkins Landing.  “There’s a whole top floor where you can set up for your lessons.”

You turned away, back to the window, hiding the way your nose wrinkled.  You thought maybe a perk of this getaway would be to have a break from practicing the cello you’d been tied to for over a decade, but no luck.  He’d been forced to give up his dream of being a musician, and now you were expected to carry the torch for him.  

You tried to come up with one thing you did in life that was not to please someone else, or boost some idea they had about you, and couldn’t come up with squat.

Besides reading.  And taking long walks with music to clear your head.  Those two were yours, and they could only be taken from your cold, dead, hands.

From the Hawkins Landing brochure your aunt had given you, it was clear that the property was enormous.  Some 30 or 40 guest cabins scattered around, a main house that functioned as a hotel but also housed two different restaurants.  A golf course, boat rentals, tennis courts, an outdoor theater, and a third restaurant situated on the water.  Along with the full service spa, there were indoor and outdoor swimming pools, plus any class you could imagine wanting to take, from salsa dancing and water skiing, to chess and crochet. 

Hawkins Landing was like a camp for adults who enjoyed alcoholic beverages.

There was a security checkpoint at the main entrance with two guards inside.  The taller one with the neatly trimmed red beard recognized your father from the jacket cover on one of his many books.  Thrillers mostly, horror if you squint.  He nervously asked for an autograph, but Owen was very polite, adjusting his tortoise shell glass as he took the black marker that the guard was offering him.  

After the checkpoint, it wasn’t long before the road opened into an expansive rose garden with a large fountain dead center, and the big main house with its wrap-around porch just to the right.  You pushed your sunglasses up to get a look at the people mingling around, getting the idea that the median age there was 45, and it was mostly families.  

The guards had given your dad a foldout map of the property and told him to check in at the main house to get the keys to the cabin they were staying in. The car moved at a crawl at the roundabout, and then came to park where a sign announced new guest check-ins.  

Your dad told you to sit tight while he went in to grab the keys, and your attention trailed off to a black golf cart with a white awning that wheeled in like a racecar and took position in front of the Mercedes.  It sat there close to the curb, idling.  You could see there was a woman behind the wheel, and she was looking straight ahead, giving you her profile.  Chin length, dark gold hair, just long enough for a ponytail, and the words “Hawkins Landing Staff” written in yellow cursive on the back of her navy blue jacket.  Where her sleeve was pushed up at her elbow, you noticed some type of tattooed lettering there, and her fingernails were painted black.  

Up ahead, you caught sight of someone strolling down the sidewalk toward the car with a hand in his pocket. It was a guy with honey tipped chocolate hair styled in a pompadour with a curl that bounced at his forehead, wearing tan chinos and a maroon, button down short sleeve with the square bulge of a pack of smokes in his front pocket. A tattoo peeked out from the V of his shirt, and there was another design on his bicep. He wore a pinky ring on one hand and rolled a toothpick around in his mouth as he sidled up to the golf cart to say something to the woman driving it.  They bumped knuckles and talked for a bit like they were very familiar, him with one foot up on the running board of the cart.

“Steve, there you are,” from the open window, your attention bounced to a short, dark haired woman who’d just come out of the building and stood alongside your dad on the sidewalk.  A closer look told you that her name tag said Joyce.  

The guy with the toothpick in his mouth straightened, smoothing the front of his shirt with his hand.  “Hey Joyce, I was just—”

Apparently uninterested in what he was about to say, she took him by the crook of the arm.  She introduced you all by your family name, and let him know that you were “her special guests”, and you assumed that had to do with your dad being a famous author, or maybe she said that about every new family.  While you chose to not do much else than offer a small wave from the back seat like you had no autonomy, Kim got out to greet them properly.

“This is Steve,” Joyce gestured to him with a Vanna White hand. “If you ever want to take guitar lessons this summer, he’s one of our best.”

“Or, if you just want to have some fun,” Steve’s eyes seemed to be searching Kim’s face, and then he shrugged. “I mean, I run the boats on the dock too, so if you want to ski or—”

Kim got flustered and tried to find her words, fussing with the lapel of her corduroy jacket in a way you’d never witnessed before. “I’m…I mean, sure, who wouldn’t want to be on the lake at a place like this?”

Kim hated boats and got seasick very easily, so you found her new interest amusing.   

Joyce politely waved Steve off and he went, albeit reluctantly, backing up with slow steps to wave farewell.  The smile stretching across his face grew wider the longer Kim couldn’t take her eyes off of him. When he was finally jogging up the sidewalk to get to where he needed to be, Joyce continued to try and sell Kim and your dad on the resort, even though you were already booked for the month. 

“Sunday night is Bingo night. There’s karaoke in The Antler Room on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and you need to check out our house band if you can.  They’re playing tonight on the back patio, and the rhythm guitar is sensational.  She used to perform with Vixen and Lita Ford,” she handed over the necessary keys and pointed the way to get to the cabin on the map.  

“Just follow us,” Joyce said, hopping into the golf cart next to the girl with the forearm tattoo.  

They led the way down a long, winding stretch with lush lawn and manicured hedges on either side, littered with people coming up from the pool in their bathing suits.  There appeared to be a Tai Chi lesson happening on the lawn near the rose garden, and some type of painting class going on just above them on a balcony.  

Made you wonder why summer people always had to stay so busy.

The cabin you’d be staying in was down a side road, tucked at the end of a private driveway with a view of the lake. It had five bedrooms, which was more than enough, but one of them would immediately turn into Owen’s writing room so that he could work on his latest novel.  

You were careful to tuck your Walkman into your bag as the Mercedes coasted into its parking spot.  Squinting up at the place, you were somewhat distracted by how much you liked the creepy, old feel of the whitewashed cabin, and you underestimated how far from the curb you were when you stepped out, stumbling to the side.  

The girl with the forearm tattoo caught you in both arms, preventing you from putting all of your weight on your twisted ankle.

“Whoa,” she moved her supportive grip from your waist to your elbow as you righted yourself.  “You okay?”

Your heart shot into your throat, and then you coughed a laugh, covering your face. “What a way to start the summer.”

She said her name was Robin, and there was a polite handshake exchange. She tripped over her words a bit.  “It’s not every day that someone falls for me.”

“Well, I’m pretty clumsy, you might need to stay close,” and the two of you shared a self-conscious laugh as you led the way to the trunk full of baggage.  

When you reached in to grab your suitcase, Robin teased, “hey, that’s my job,” before leaning further in to take the oddly shaped black hard case, the satin of her jacket skimming your arm. She struggled with it at first, but then held it up by the handle and gave you a sideways look.

“This yours?” She asked, cocking one eyebrow up. “You’re a musician?”

“No, well, yes I am but no I, I play the cello,” you stammered, not sure why it was hard to get the words out. “But here, I can carry that. It’s big and heavy and—”

Robin winked.  “I got it,” and then she snatched another suitcase with the other hand and shuffled by you to make her way up to the porch.  

Once you were all settled inside and Joyce had explained all of the amenities, you and Kim pushed back the curtains and watched the two go from the living room window. Just before they took off in the cart, Robin sent you a wave.

“She looks like a nice girl,” Kim had her arms folded over her chest. “Maybe the two of you could—”

“I know you’re worried about me, okay, but I don’t need to make any friends this summer,” you were holding the case for your cello in front of you with both hands, using it as a metaphorical barrier. “I like being alone.”

By the time you put your stuff away in the bedroom you’d be staying in, your dad was already typing away in his writing room, you could hear the keys of his Selectric click-clacking.  

“I’ll be back in a bit,” you called across the rustic but spacious cabin living room.  “I’m going to look around the main house.”

Kim barely caught your words as she was struggling with her glasses to read an ingredient label as she put some dry goods away in the kitchen.  “Mhmm sounds good, have fun. Be back in time for dinner, we have reservations at…whatever that place is called. Your dad knows.”

You tapped the Swatch on your wrist and gave an absent wave over your shoulder.

With your headphones on, you made your way down to the main sidewalk that split off in two directions, bordering either side of the swimming pool and tennis courts.  You found the bike path that wound down along the lake to the boat dock, and then up into a lush pocket of dense forest.  Two teenage girls on rollerblades almost crashed into you as they bolted around the bend, giggling.  Trying to decide if you wanted to go toward the water or into the woods, you watched a staff member veer off onto an uneven stone pathway and your curiosity was piqued.

Creeping along in their wake, you marched up a hill for what felt like forever, with Bring on the Dancing Horses by Echo and the Bunnymen playing in your ears, until you realized with a start that you’d already arrived at the main building.  It loomed up ahead like a mansion from some old gothic romance novel. 

You continued to plod your way along the trunks of trees, until you spotted a group having a chat on the wide porch, and took a few steps back.

They were all leaning against the railing in a semicircle, facing each other,  so that you could see the Hawkins Landing Staff on the back of a few of their navy jackets.  

One of them was Steve from earlier, next to him was a girl with a blonde ponytail, and then two others.  

“I met that author guy today,” Steve took a drag and then blew the smoke up in the air, away from everyone’s face.  “The one who wrote Darkness on the Hill, that one they made into a movie.”

You realized that it was your dad he was talking about. 

Not looking where you were stepping, you caught your toe on a tree root and your arms windmilled before you were able to find your balance, floundering to duck behind another tree.  Your mouth opened in a silent scream, trying not to gasp at the pain in your foot.  Grimacing, you turned the volume down on the headphones that were around your neck to better hear what they were saying.

“That actor from that one show about law and order is staying in cabin 8,” the girl with the ponytail said.  “Housekeeping says he finishes a bottle of whiskey a night.”

But then, there was another voice. “Now that sounds like a great fucking vacation to me,” followed by the heavy footfalls of boots on wood as a new person approached the group.

The sight of the new arrival made you feel like your brain was wiped clean—-the whole world came to a screeching halt.

Swallowing hard, all of your attention tunneled on him; his long dark hair with bangs that crowded his eyes, a thin but muscular build, tattoos scattered over his exposed arms, and a leather jacket hooked over his shoulder with one finger. He combed a hand through his hair as he walked, chunky metal rings catching the light, and headed over to the blonde girl.  You took note of every movement as she passed him her half-smoked cig and he gave her a quick kiss on the temple.  

Was that his girlfriend?

He stepped back to introduce the younger guy he had with him.  “This Jamie, my new maintenance trainee,” he used the hand holding his smoke to point to each one on the balcony individually.  You really didn’t pay attention until he got to the blonde one.  “...that one there is the lovely Chrissy, and the moody one with the hairy chest is Steve.  They’re the other musicians I told you about.”

Jamie had short black, curly hair and a hoop piercing in one ear.  He lit his own smoke while the metalhead started in with a story about a pump exploding at the pool house, complete with wild hand gestures.  

“Hey, there the fuck you are.  I’ve been looking everywhere for you losers.”

Another voice, another person making their way down the long stretch of squeaky wood planks from the front of the building.  You stepped closer, snapping a twig under your foot, eliciting a worried lip bite.

Everyone stayed right where they were, but for Eddie who moved in front of Jamie in a protective way.  The guy approaching at a stroll had very nondescript good looks with his wheat blonde hair in a tight cut that looked freshly trimmed.  While the others were dressed more casually, this one wore a white dress shirt and tie with black trousers, as if he had some fancy place to be.

“You talking to me?” The metalhead flicked his cigarette ash and stepped forward to meet the new guy before he could come any closer to the group. “Cause, if so, you might want to change your tone, precious.”

“Eddie, don’t,” Chrissy said, and then she stood up, addressing the guy in the suit.  “Jason, what the fuck do you want?”

Eddie, you moved your lips, whispering the name to yourself.  His name was Eddie.  

Jason put his hands up in mock surrender.  “Why so hostile?” He turned to Eddie. “Joyce has been trying to find you for an hour.  There’s a toilet backed up in one of the cabins, and trash that needs to go to the dump. Sounds to me like you’re having a hard time doing your job, Munson.”

You scuttled like a crab, moving to a spot where you could see their faces instead of the backs of their heads.

So that you could see Eddie’s face. 

Steve checked his watch and pushed off of the railing to snub his cig out on the bottom of his shoe.  “I gotta run.  See you bastards at the show tonight,” he said in passing, shoving both hands into his trouser pockets.  He walked right into Jason, shoulder checking him, before casually going on his way.  Jason shot him an evil look.

“Well,” Eddie took a deep breath. “Tell Joyce I got the message,” and then he motioned for Jamie to follow him.

“Too bad we can’t take you out with the rest of the trash, freak,” Jason mumbled, loud enough for you to hear every word, and a tension crackled in the air.

The metalhead stopped dead in his tracks and drew his shoulders back.  

When he finally turned on his heel, he wore a satisfied smirk, inclining his head, as if he’d been waiting for Jason to say something all along. 

Chrissy moved as if she were about to go over and break up whatever was about to happen, but one of the others put a handout and stopped her.  

“Just keep sending your laundry home to mommy, baby boy, and leave the real work to me,” Eddie said, and then he flicked the butt of his cigarette at Jason’s face. 

Jason moved his head just in time so that the hot cherry missed his cheek by a hair and bounced off the wall behind him, spraying sparks.  Chrissy and the others snickered at how beet red Jason’s face got, but he didn’t say another word, he just waited for Eddie and Jamie to be far enough away before he went back around to the front entrance.

When the coast was clear, you stood and made your way to the path again.  With a curse you realized you were going to be late for that dinner reservation, and picked up speed to a slow, sad jog. 

You found yourself thinking that maybe being trapped at Hawkins Landing for the summer wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

—----

Your aunt Kim gave you an exasperated look when you all finally sat down for dinner, being that you’d made everyone 20 minutes late for the reservation.  There didn’t appear to be a single open table when you arrived, but Joyce had made sure to keep the one by the window facing the gardens open for your party.  She came around to introduce the guy who was to be your waiter, and you sat up a little straighter in your seat when you realized it was Jason from earlier.  The way he’d been dressed out on the porch made sense now, as his uniform was the same as all of the other waitstaff.  

Near the end of the meal, Joyce returned to the table in her black pencil skirt and fitted jacket, but this time, she was with a guy who you could tell wanted to look like Don Johnson in Miami Vice, but it came off more as Gary from Weird Science.  

“I'd like you to meet Troy, he’s the son of Mr. Brenner, the owner of the resort,” there was a reluctance about her, as if she’d been forced at gunpoint to introduce him.  

Troy stared at you with an uncomfortable intensity, making your attention fall to your plate.  

“I’m in charge when my father isn’t around,” Troy said with a smug grin, putting his hands in his white trouser pockets, and you spotted some type of metal retainer on his teeth.  

Joyce cleared her throat, annoyed that his statement was far from true.  But she recognized that it was part of her job to indulge the little shit.  

“I just graduated with a business degree from Georgetown,” he gloated, giving you a wink.  “This place will all be mine one day.”

Your father exchanged a look with your aunt over his chocolate mousse.  

“Well, it’s nice to know someone else your age here, isn’t it, Bird? Maybe you two kids should go have some fun tonight,” Kim chirped.  

If your aunt wasn’t so far away, you would’ve kicked her under the table. 

Troy bent at the waist so that his face wasn’t far from yours.  “I’d love to show you around after dinner, if you’re interested in a tour?”

Before you could issue a vague excuse like, “sorry I can’t, I have a headache,” Kim spoke for you again.

“I think that’s a great idea,” she even clapped her hands, applauding it. 

In the end, you went with him to make Kim happy, to get her off your back, hopefully for the rest of the trip.  

An hour or two with a pretentious prick wouldn’t hurt you.

—-------

Troy wasn’t bad company, but he was quite full of himself.  He had interesting stories about his extensive travels, but then he also told awkward stories that were possibly fibs about how many models he’d dated, and expanded on how he wanted to be married with two kids by the time he was 30.   

You, on the other hand, couldn’t imagine thinking that far ahead, and he wouldn’t let you get a word in edgewise.  

You followed close behind through the huge, busy kitchen of the restaurant you’d just dined in, and he tried to hold your hand when he introduced you to the head chef, but you were sly, and pulled it away to cross your arms over your chest.  He gave you a tour of the ballroom and took a stroll through the other restaurant on the opposite end of the building that had a much more relaxed feel, low lighting, red carpet, and a bar at the center.  

You went down to the boat docks and walked along the pier. The stars were breathtaking, but Troy didn’t notice, he was too busy trying to convince you to go out on his boat with him.  You declined, taking a page from Kim’s book to mention a freshly born curse of violent seasickness.  

You had your elbows on the railing at the pier, enjoying the velvet reflection of the crescent moon in the lake, and you could feel your jaw grow tense under the weight of Troy’s stare. 

On the verge of telling him you were ready to head back to your cabin, the sound of music drifted down from somewhere on the property. 

Yes, no mistaking, it was Take Me Home Tonight by Eddie Money, but it was being executed with someone else’s voice, and whoever that person was had some serious pipes.

And then there was the distinct sound of a feminine voice chiming in with the parts from the song Be My Baby Now by the Ronettes in the chorus.

"Is that a live band?" You turned away from him to try and find the source of the music.  It wasn’t coming from the restaurant on the water or any of the cabins to your right.  

"There's a cover band every Friday out behind the main house. You want to check it out?" He held the crook of his arm out to you and hesitated before you took it.  His ego sufficiently stroked now that you wanted to spend more time with him.

Around the side of the building, overlooking the golf course, was a huge, fenced in back patio garden area with a private hot tub and pool for hotel guests.  Troy led you through a white arbor wound with ivy to find that there were plenty of people mingling, drinking, and dancing.  The area was mostly manicured lawn, with stone pathways meandering around from a concrete floor that was right in front of the small riser that was meant to be a stage. You imagined that a million weddings had taken place there. 

At the door was a bar, and Troy got you a flute of champagne, which you downed with abandon and asked for another.  While he was getting your second glass, you made your way along under several boughs of white string lights to get a view of the stage and who was performing the top tier Eddie Money cover.

Just as you stepped into the crowd of people shuffling to the beat, you stopped dead in your tracks.

There he was at the mic: Eddie the metalhead.

Guitar slug low at his hips, wearing a tuxedo with light blue cummerbund and bow tie, his hair neatly combed back and fixed into a knot at the back of his head so that you could really see the curves of his face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was performing the song against his will.

The rest of the band were dressed similarly, and you instantly knew the one strumming the bass guitar as Steve, and the woman on backup vocals rocking on the rhythm was Chrissy, who wore a conservative skirt and flats. There was also a keyboardist and a drummer, both of whom you did not recognize.

“What’s your major?” Troy asked, breaking your reverie to pass you the glass of champagne. “In college?”

You were confused for a second but then, “oh, I took the year off to…figure some things out.” The full truth of it was that you had dropped out completely and had no intention of going back.  

“I spent a summer in Greece my freshman year,” he offered, unprovoked. “The women there are, wow, so smoking hot.”

The song finished and Eddie took his tuxedo jacket off, rolling up his shirt sleeves to his elbows, exposing the scattered tattoos you’d noticed earlier.  He leaned over to whisper something to Chrissy, motioned at the drummer, and then stepped back into place, brushing a loose wisp of hair off his cheek.

“Find someone special for this next one,” he told the crowd, and was answered with a rush of murmurs.

The first notes to In Your Eyes by Peter Gabriel, a slow song, lit up the space, and your stomach tightened, fearing that Troy would ask you to dance. As he escorted you to the floor, you tried to keep your head down and stay to the back of the crowd, but Troy kept maneuvering you closer to the stage. 

I get so lost, sometimes

Days pass and this emptiness fills my heart

When I want to run away

I drive off in my car

But whichever way I go

I come back to the place you are

You watched the performance from over Troy’s shoulder and followed his lead, shifting from foot to foot.  You were mesmerized by the muscles in Eddie’s hands as he played each note, and the way Chrissy came in like an angel on the chorus.  

He’d captured the attention of everyone in the garden at that moment, and there was a group of women watching him from the sidelines, whispering to each other, possibly about how they wanted to eat him alive.

They were all thinking the same thing you were: Eddie was magic.  

He liked to close his eyes when he sang, so you weren’t expecting him to be staring right at you when he opened them again.  

All my instincts, they return

And the grand facade, so soon will burn

Without a noise, without my pride

I reach out from the inside

He wouldn’t break eye contact, so you eventually had to; the intensity of it was giving you butterflies.

Troy stepped back and tried to get your attention.  “Did you hear anything I just said?”

You nodded, but your gaze only drifted back to Eddie.  Troy followed your line of sight and then dropped both of his hands with a frustrated cluck of his tongue.

"What the hell is he doing up there?" He hissed to himself when it dawned on him that Eddie had been behind the mic that whole time. "That's our goddamn maintenance guy. He shouldn't be up there."

In a huff, Troy pushed through the crowd and headed over to one of the other staff members against the fence. Bird could see him shouting and pointing over at the stage. Whatever the staff guy said did not seem to cheer him up a bit, and he came back to your side, shrugging his shoulders.

"I guess our normal front man Drew has the flu," he reported back. "It's just so hard to find reliable help these days."

Eddie was making the song his own, and that was what you liked about it.

“Let’s get out of here,” Troy put his hand on your lower back to escort you out. “The music sucks.”

—--

It was 9:30 when you made it back to the main foyer, standing in the middle of the lobby next to an obnoxious floral arrangement, when Troy tried to get you to go back to his cabin and watch a movie, only to get respectfully declined.

“Don’t worry about your parents,” Troy said, brushing his finger over your chin. “They know you’re with me, so they’re probably the happiest parents at Hawkins Landing.”

The guy had quite an ego on him, you had to give him that. It was unsurpassed by most. 

In the end, you got away, and as soon as your Mary Jane’s hit the cobblestones outside the front door, you could feel yourself trotting at a quicker pace, eager to put some distance between you and Troy and everyone else, for that matter.  You didn’t stop until you were far enough away from the main hotel to be able to check over your shoulder and not see it through the trees.

It was then that you realized that you had a free chunk of time, and you could do with it whatever you wished.  Your dad would think you were still with Troy, and as long as you made it back to the cabin before midnight, they wouldn’t worry.  

As much as it was the dead of summer, Indiana by the water had very cool nights, and you buttoned up the jean jacket you were wearing just as you noticed a yellow sign on a lamppost to the right that said: Staff Quarters, No Guests Allowed Beyond This Point

And that made you want to venture in even more.

You checked around to make sure there was no one there to notice that you blatantly ignored the sign, and just kept going.  The path at your feet changed from stone to a well-worn dirt path through the grass, and it wasn’t long before you could hear the sound of music erupting in the distance.  

You passed by staff quarters, a few weathered red cabins with white trim, lined close together, and there were some people hanging out on their porches who gave you curious looks, but didn’t seem too concerned with your presence. 

Following the source of the music, you descended down into unknown, poorly lit territory that no longer looked like it was part of the Hawkins Landing property.  

(song playing in the distance is Dangerous Meeting by Mercyful Fate)

It was then that you noticed a pale yellow light coming from the windows of a building up ahead.  Just as the dirt path turned to gravel, you identified the music you were hearing as heavy metal, and it was bolstered by distinct shouts and cheers, even a high-pitched scream or two.  

“Hey,” a voice startled you from out of the dark and you jumped. “What are you going out here?”

Heart racing, you spun around to find out it was Robin.  

She was struggling to carry several things in her arms as she walked and you rushed over to her.

“Where did you come from?” You asked, grinning ear to ear at how glad you were to see someone familiar.

“My cabin is right over there,” she bucked her chin in a direction behind you.

She had a crossbody bag over her shoulder, an amp in one hand, and she was juggling two guitar cases, one of which she fumbled, and you managed to catch it before it hit the ground.  You wrapped your arms around the hard case with the Scorpions sticker on it, silently offering to carry it the rest of the way.

“You don’t have to—” Robin started, adjusting the bag over her shoulder.

“I want to,” you looked back up at the house where the music was coming from, assuming that was where she was headed.  “I carry that big cello around all the time, remember? I’m used to it.”

Robin moved her jaw from side to side and she looked conflicted.  “You’re not supposed to be here.”

Your eyes were still locked on the house hidden in the trees.  “What is that place?”

“Listen,” she gave you an imploring look. “I will get in so much trouble if they find out you came out here. Your dad won’t want you here, trust me.”

Her warning did nothing to squelch your curiosity. “I’m a big girl, I go wherever I want. Plus, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Besides,” she gave you a knowing look, raising her eyebrow. “If your boyfriend Troy finds out you were here, Brenner will fire all of us.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you snapped.  But then, softer, you added, “I barely just met him tonight.”

Robin wasn’t in the mood to try and rip the guitar out of your hands, and so, with a heavy sigh, she caved.

“Fine,” she sighed. “But stay close to me, okay? You’re not at the resort anymore, sweetheart.”

You nodded, waiting for her to lead the way.

She took a step forward and then stopped and turned on her heel to point at the instrument in your arms. 

“Be extra careful with that, it’s Eddie’s baby. He’ll grow horns if anything happens to it.”

----

Hi! If you are familiar with the movie Dirty Dancing, you have an idea about what scene is coming up next. I've really enjoyed lining up certain events with the movie, but things will obviously be different in this because I want it to have some surprises in store for you.

Every chapter from here on out will start with a list of the songs, ones that will give hints for what to expect. I wanted to make music a big part of this fic, because it was a huge deal in the movie, and the original soundtrack is still dear to me.

as always, thank you so much for reading and interacting with this story! Comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated. or send me an ask and let me know what you think ❤️

------

taglist: @tlclick73 @micheledawn1975 @kurdtbean @katethetank @elvendria @spookysqaush86 @somethingvicked @stylesxmunson @laurenlokirby @sapphire4082

[ladykailitha]

All My Roads Lead Back to You Part 18

All right, my lovies, this is the last chapter. There will be an epilogue and then the story is done. Thank you all who joined me down this amazing AU. It’s been a blast.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

***

Turns out what they were going to do the night of the gala was Mandy was allowed to invite her bandmates over for a party. There was going to be snacks and pizza and movies. They could stay up as late as they wanted and Eddie and the Grants were even okay with their sons staying the night for a sleepover.

When she learned that the event was going to take place the Saturday after her finals, she was sooo glad that she had listened to her dad and agreed not to go. Trying to study and do her finals during the week from hell, would have straight up killed her.

Edie also had to grudgingly admit that the party sounded way more fun than waltzing around in high heels and a pretty dress with people that were only trying to schmooze to get money out of other people. No parents, just her and her friends having a blast.

Plus she had fun prom, why would she want to go to boring prom?

But she helped her dad pick out his suit for the event. He looked hot in it.

“Is Mr Munson coming?” she asked as she tried to decide between a black pocket square and the white one.

Steve sighed. “He’s been invited every year by Uncle Dusty for the last ten years, and he’s never came, so the chances aren’t good.”

Edie pouted. “That’s too bad. That outfit he wore the prom was kickass. I was looking forward to seeing what he would come up with for a more formal event like this.”

Steve smiled at the memory and blushed. “Me, too.”

She bumped him with her shoulder. “Have fun anyway even if he doesn’t come. You work hard for this every year. Have fun with it.”

He kissed the top of her head fiercely. “I promise you’ll be my plus one next year.”

“You better!” she teased. Her eyelids half closed. “Or...and hear me out, your plus one could be a certain metal producer...”

Steve blushed even darker. “Do you think I’m ready?”

The teasing smile slid off her face and she sat him down. “You know your therapist is going to say that’s something for you to decide, but my opinion is that you are. You have worked so hard these last few months and while there have been a couple of low points, it’s clear you’re better equipped to handle that.”

Steve let out a shuddering sigh. “Yeah. You’re right. I can’t wait to be perfect, because that’s never going to happen. But I’m getting all the right tools and we know how to communicate better now.”

Edie sat down next to him and she picked up his right hand. “You know, it’s so strange not seeing that ring on your hand anymore.”

Steve thumb rubbed the underside of his ring finger instinctively. “It’s weird for me too. I used to panic in the morning thinking I’d lost it only to remember that it’s in the safest place for it. Back on Eddie’s finger.”

Edie smiled. “I think you have your answer, Dad.”

He smiled at her. “So it seems.”

*

Eddie was as dressed up as much he tolerated. He wore skin tight leather pants with chunky boots. His black silk shirt was tucked loosely into the pants with a black and silver belt that had chains dangling off it artistically. The shirt was only part of the way buttoned and showed off the many chains and necklaces around his neck. He wore a suit jacket with the sleeves rolled up to show off the bracelets and bangles on his wrists. All of his rings were on today and a single upside down cross dangled from his left ear.

In short, he did not belong here. He had even said as much to Dustin and Suzie six times already.

And he was about to add a seventh. “Look at these people, Dustin! Her necklace probably costs more than my entire outfit.”

Dustin rolled his eyes. “She also probably rented it for the night. Chill out, dude. You’re making me nervous and I’ve been to every one of these things.”

Eddie sighed. “How the hell did I let you talk me into this anyway?”

“Because it’s a cause you feel strongly about,” Dustin growled. “It’s about getting music and music education into deaf and hard of hearing schools. It’s about sharing music in new and exciting ways for people who might not otherwise get the chance.”

Eddie sighed again. “I’m surprised this charity is as popular as it. I’m seeing legit movie stars here, man.”

Dustin looked around for a moment and then points to an actor with thinning hair and glasses. “It’s because of a little movie he did, that came out like a month after the charity was formed.”

Eddie’s eyes followed to where Dustin was pointing and there was Richard Dreyfus talking to Steve Harrington and he gulped. “Oh.”

Suddenly the whole night made sense. Steve had come out hard of hearing in August of ‘95 and that December ‘Mr Holland’s Opus’ came out. Forming a charity when he did was brilliant. But that was Steve, he was intuitive that way.

He wave his hand Steve’s direction. “This is exactly why I shouldn’t be here. Look at how well Steve blends seamlessly with actors, musicians, and sports stars alike.”

Steve was wearing a gem tone blue suit with a black button up and matching pocket square. He had a glass of something bubbly in his hand as he laughed at something the renowned actor was saying.

Dustin pushed Eddie’s shoulder. “Dude, you must have been to a ton of these parties for your music, why are you freaking out now?”

That brought Eddie up short. He had been to a ton of these kind of things before. Just never with Steve looking like he’d walked right off the pages of a fashion magazine.

“What if I say or do something that makes him look bad?”

Dustin frowned. “Who? Steve?”

Eddie nodded, lips pursed. “He worked so hard for this, I don’t want to come bumbling in and wreck it for him.”

Dustin’s expression softened. “You can’t do any worse than the actress in ‘99 when threw wine at the wrong guy thinking he was her ex and then tried to strip so that she could drown herself in the punch bowl.”

Eddie blinked. “That didn’t really happen, did it?”

“Oh yeah,” Dustin said. “It was a nightmare.”

Eddie tilted his head to the side and thought about it. “Huh. I guess you’re right.”

Dustin rolled his eyes. “How many times do I have to be right in order for you to believe me?”

“He really needs to check his ego,” a warm voice came from behind them.

Eddie turned around and smiled fondly. “It’s his tone, right?”

Steve grinned. “Always.”

Eddie came forward and hugged Steve. “It’s good to see you.”

Steve pressed his face close to his. “I’m so glad you made it.”

Eddie’s heart started beating wildly in his chest. He felt like they were on the cusp of something great.

“Not gonna lie,” he said fondly, “shit like this always terrifies me.”

Steve only stepped back far enough that they weren’t cheek to cheek anymore but still hugging. “Me, too.”

Eddie’s smile was soft. “Yeah? Then we can be nervous together.”

Dustin huffed out his annoyance. “Unless you two want to be all the talk of the gossip rags tomorrow, you may want to put a little bit of space between you.”

Steve and Eddie laughed, but they only moved so that they were standing side by side with one arm around each other’s waists.

Dustin rolled his eyes again. “I take it back, I don’t want you two as a couple, you’ll be insufferable.”

They both grinned.

“There are so many famous people here...” Eddie whispered, practically plastering himself against Steve’s side.

“Who do you want to meet and I’ll introduce you,” Steve said with a smile.

Eddie chewed on his lip a moment before whispering it in Steve’s ear.

Steve chuckled. “Sure thing, sunshine. We can start there.”

Dustin just shook his head as he watched them walk away. Suzie came up to him with a glass of champagne and glass of juice for her.

“You not drinking tonight, honeybee?” he asked her as he took his glass from her.

She shook her head with a smile. “Found out this morning when the doctor’s office called to confirm it.”

Dustin turned to her, his eyes wide.

“It appears the last insemination worked.”

He took her drink from her and both of their glasses on a nearby table. He hugged and kissed her. “We’re having a baby?”

She nodded shyly, rubbing her belly gently. “They want me on bed rest starting in a couple of weeks, to make sure it really takes. But yes. We’re having a baby.”

“I love you,” Dustin whispered.

“I know.”

*

Eddie was actually starting to have fun. Steve was a malicious gossip and he weaponized that fact to make Eddie laugh.

He was trying to hide his giggles in Steve’s neck when Robin and Viv came up to them.

“You two look cozy,” Viv said with a grin.

Eddie straightened up and looked at her with curiosity. “Oh hello.”

“Munson,” Robin greeted.

Eddie looked over at her then back at Viv.

“Two pretty birdies,” he said with a smile.

Robin laughed. She had forgotten in the years of hurt and separation how funny he was.

“Viv,” she said, “This is Eddie Munson, music producer. Eddie, this is my fiancee, Viv.”

Steve and Eddie looked at each other in shock.

Steve scooped her up in his arms and twirled her around. “Oh my God! I’m so happy for you. When did this happen?”

He set her back down and immediately Viv took her hand. “I proposed this morning. It’s not going to be official until tomorrow.”

“Congrats,” Eddie said with a soft smile and gentle tilt of his head.

“We wanted you to be the first to know,” Robin told Steve.

“I’m honored,” Steve said. “Now go have fun.”

They nodded, but Robin hesitated a moment before giving Eddie a hug. “I’m sorry.”

He hugged her back fiercely. “Me, too, Birdie. Me too.”

Robin nodded and Viv and she walked off hand in hand.

Steve turned to Eddie. “I think you just got the best friend seal of approval.”

Eddie blinked. “You think?”

Steve tried to fight back the smile but failed. He nodded.

“That’s good to know.”

They stood there, warm and content by each other’s side. Then the DJ started up and people began to dance to the music.

“Dance with me,” Steve breathed into Eddie’s ear.

Eddie looked into his eyes and then nodded.

Steve led them to the dance floor and he took Eddie’s hand in his and placed the other on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie’s remaining hand was warm on Steve’s side.

Steve sighed and laid his head on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie said softly. “Getting tired?”

Steve nodded and buried his face into Eddie’s neck. “I usually sleep it off over the next couple of days.”

“You work too hard, baby,” he murmured into Steve’s ear.

Steve sighed and let Eddie rock them back and forth to the music. He wasn’t sure if it was luck, Robin paying the DJ off, Jeff paying the DJ off, or just the DJ noticing their little dance, but the next song was a slow song too.

After a moment or so just moving in a small circle, Steve murmured, “I’m ready now.”

Eddie reared his head back to try and get a better look at him, when it hit him. “Yeah?”

“Like I told Edie,” Steve whispered, “I can’t keep waiting for the perfect moment. The time when I’m one hundred percent better. Because I know I’ll never be. And that’s not fair to you or to me. So this is me saying yes.”

He lifted his head up to gaze into Eddie’s eyes. He must saw something he liked, because he was pressing his lips to Eddie’s.

Eddie cupped Steve’s cheeks and deepened the kiss as Steve clutched at his sides.

“I think we were always meant to be here, sweetheart,” Eddie whispered back.

“All my roads were always going to lead back to you, sunshine,” Steve admitted. “I love you so much. I always have, I think I always will.”

Eddie kissed him again just as fireworks started going off.

They broke off giggling, just holding on to each other as the ridiculousness of kissing to fireworks got to them.

Jeff came over and patted them both on the shoulder. “It took you guys long enough.”

Eddie playfully pushed at his friend. “I had to go through all that to get to here, man. I don’t think it would have worked otherwise.”

Steve nodded. “I think so too. Young idiots in love wouldn’t have been the same as two people loving each other and growing together as mature adults.”

Jeff nodded and then gathered them both up for a huge group hug.

“Hey, what would you say about getting the band back together?” Jeff asked Eddie. “Gareth’s on board.”

Eddie shook his head. “We’d need a bassist and I wouldn’t want to tour with some stranger.”

Jeff grinned. “Well the thing about that…” he looked over at Steve.

Steve pointed at himself in confusion. “Me? I mean I know how to play the bass, but...” he turned to Jeff slowly. “You rat bastard, you’ve been teaching me how to play for this very reason!”

Jeff threw his head back and laughed. “You better believe it, Stevie boy!”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed. “You have been playing quite the long game, Jeffrey Nicholas Lawrence.”

Jeff grinned, rubbing his hands together. “Just wait until you hear what I have planned!”

Steve and Eddie looked at each other and then burst out laughing.

“Yeah, all right,” Steve said with a fond shake of his head. “Let’s hear what you’ve got.”

Eddie put his arm around Steve’s waist and listened to his best friend talk about touring after their kids graduated from high school and how it would all work with a smile.

Moving back to Indiana was the best idea Jeff ever had.

***

Epilogue

A note about Suzie’s pregnancy, when you’re told you can’t have kids you think any missed period is just stress. Then after the third month of not getting her period she went to the doctor and they told she was pregnant (from personal experience).

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @trashpocket @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @mightbeasleep @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @trashpocket @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666  @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @steddie-as-they-go @lillemilly @callas-shitshow @bisexualdisastersworld @renaissan-vvitch @immortal-iratze @bookbinderbitch @cardigangoth @lilacrobin @nightmareglitter @nerdsconquerall @stxrcrossed186 

[fanaticsnail]

I have a question about your WIPs of a different kind: how do you not lose sight of all the WIPs and ideas when you write so many at the same time ? And what is your progress when crafting a Story (multi chapter or one Shot) in general? If its okay to ask?! To some, there work progress is very personal so i get If you don't wanna answer it 😊

Because i am over here like:

And I wanna cram all my initial ideas in one thing and then there is the next Idea and I get overwhelmed and then i forget little details and scenes i was so proud of. And then i am to overwhelmed to write anything down 🥺 or i wanna sleep and the ideas come to me just then and are gone the next morning haha 🥲

And you are more like this with your writing✨:

Also your recent WIP-List is soo exciting

Have a beautiful start of the day, Snail✨🍀i will go to bed now!

Oh no, believe you me -> I am exactly like that. My writing process is not pretty and all of my thoughts are maddening. Thank you for asking, I'm happy to show you exactly how my brain maps out if you like!

A glimpse of my writing process:

Snail: "Oh, I have this idea. I wonder what it would look like if I just..." writes a small introduction, gets overcome with the thoughts, watches it play out on my screen the longer I write, letting the words take over, surprised at the scenes coming out, genuinely shocked by the plot like watching a movie for the first time, nodding along and wondering how the hell that happened, writes a one sentence conclusion.

Snail: "...oh, but I can't just leave it there. I should just-." keeps writing, oh no now it's a lengthy series, playlists and soundtracks propel me to keep going, freaking out about the word count now, keep writing until satisfied with the conclusion.

And then it sits in my documents until it happens again for another fic. The amount of ideas I have for myself is insane, and I try to find the time to add a little bit per day for one or the other. Then I go through it and read it a bit later and format it then and see if I can get more giddy emotions to come out of it while editing.

Then there's the fics I haven't written that play out in my mind like a little story when I drive (obviously focussing on the road too) like the Cabaret at Baratie fic I've been attempting to write and map out for a few months now. I keep getting side tracked because I want you to not only have a "why choose" between Sanji and Zoro, but imagine it being the Heart Pirates, Cross Guild, Kid-Pirates, it just never ends.

Here's my current unhinged docs (I have blurred the ones that are a little incredibly NSFW).

When the ideas come to me at night, I usually text myself a note in the middle of it so I don't forget. The Apprentice with Mihawk and When You Had The Chance with Beckman were fics that came from the middle of the night prompts.

I'm also lucky enough to have some beautiful mutuals who chat to me and listen to my unhinged ramblings and add little points to spur me on. Chef-husband has also been on the receiving end of such ramblings. I also keep asks and requests in my ask box until I form something cohesive, which is why it takes me so long to answer some things.

SO TO SUM UP: I am exactly like this too.

How I think I write:

How I actually write:

[morningstarinc]

Because Faith is Mine

MorningstarInc

Summary:

Eva never had much faith in anything. Christianity had let her down. But one night, her friend invites her to a "Ritual" where they are sequestered by Papa Emeritus for a unique proposal. Eva's life begins that night, she hits the road with Papa and the Nameless Ghouls, power struggles ensue, sexual favors follow, and three ways are had. Eva finds meaning in life and it turns out he wears a mask, oh, and happens to be a demon rockstar from hell.

Notes:

First work, I'm looking for critique on writing style, etc. This is a tester for an unrelated novel I am working on. Any help is appreciated and I hope you enjoy the fantasy.

Chapter 1

God. There was no god, or rather, if there was, what had he ever done for me? Never had any of the thousands of prayers whispered over the years been answered. At this point in life, I had begun to consider that there was no such thing as a higher power. Until I received an invite to something called a “Ritual.” A girlfriend of mine had invited me to a show, I wasn’t sure what to expect but I was always down for a night of fun, though I had to admit, the thought of a “Ritual” had intrigued me. My friend Grace and I had grown up in extremely religious households, so it was just natural that the two of us were drawn to one another with our rebellious tendencies. Grace was currently pacing the living room of my small apartment.

“Evangeline Flewelling! We need to go! We're going to miss the show!” my friend yelled at me. “God dammit Grace, you know I hate my fucking name, I'm almost ready,” I yelled back to Grace. “Oh, pardon me Princess Eva, would you mind hurrying your ass?” she rebuttled.

I settled for a vampy chiffon crop top with long puffy sleeves, slung my purse across my chest, and stomped out of my bedroom in my black chunky heels. Grace ran to the car demanding that I walk faster. Maybe I was nervous, who knows, something felt odd in the air tonight and it made me hesitate with every step. Strapped into the car I pulled our destination up on my phone. “So, what should I be expecting at this ‘Ritual’ exactly?” I asked Grace as she sped down the highway, swerving around other vehicles. “Girl, it's everything!” She squealed in excitement. “Alright, well that tells me absolutely nothing...”I replied with a laugh.

“Ok, soooo, think sexy guys and girls wearing masks and all black while rocking out to satanic metal worship music?” she said with an uptick of her voice. “Jesus, so it’s a cult?” I asked sardonically. “No, no, no it's not a cult, it’s this satanic pope named Papa Emeritus, he goes around to different cities performing ‘Rituals’ and sharing their stories. Look we're just going to a concert Eva; you always overthink things. Just relax and have fun tonight. It's going to beeeeee, let's say, spiritual,” She finished with a wink. I inhaled deeply and shook my head and replied, “Whatever you say Grace, I'm in your hands.”

We pulled up to the Arena in the next town over. Every parking lot was overflowing with cars. I had no idea this “Ritual” was going to be so popular. Grace was giving me the lecture right now about how we should have left sooner because she knew parking would be an issue. I try to calm her, but my attempts are clearly futile. We settle for a spot a few blocks from the venue and Grace takes off at a run-walk speed screaming over her shoulder for me to ‘hurry the fuck up.’

“Bitch, I swear to Satan if I miss Kaisarion I'm going to murder your face!” Grace says in a panic, I know she’s joking but the people walking behind us most definitely did not think she was joking. I picked up the pace a little bit and we finally made it to the Arena. Once again, Grace was freaking out for nothing, people were still making their way in for the show and the opening act was still playing. Grace grabs my hand, and we head straight for the front of the stage.

“Oh, hell no Grace, you know I hate the front, I don’t want to be smooshed!” I plead with her. Grace turns to face me, grabs my cheeks and looks deep into my eyes. “Trust me Eva, you're going to love this show, just calm the fuck down,” she says as she stuffs her pen in my mouth, I take a deep puff. The herbal taste fills my mouth and lungs, I breathe out deep and remember that tonight is supposed to be fun. I smile between her palms, and she releases me only to pick up my hand and continue dragging me to the front. We waited there for what seemed like an eternity, and thankfully I had used the restroom.

The opening act plays their last song and everyone around us is vibrating with excitement and its contagious. The room is filled with fog and the lights are dim. Suddenly the lights went out and guitars began to play. Curtains drop and the lights come on and figures cloaked in black stand on the stage. I have to admit, I gave an initial chuckle of amusement but watching them stalking across the stage with their guitars was more than enough to sway my mind. They wore black masks connected to hoses with two small horns atop their heads. They were dressed in tattered black military suits which gave a striking silhouette.

I wasn’t prepared for what happened next, a man in a skeletal mask ran onto the stage and began to sing. It’s hard to describe the way I felt in the crowd. I felt safe. Everyone was on the same level of excitement, and the more the crowd's excitement grew, the more the bodies on stage had to give to the crowd. The sound of the guitars coursing through the air, the boom of a cannon, drums pounding, lights flashing, and the masked skeleton singing, it was just as Grace had described it, Everything.

I was drawn into the crowd and began to dance and jump to the music. Grace was beside me going ape shit. She grabbed me by the neck pulling me close to her lips. “What the fuck did I tell you! Isn't this fucking awesome? she yelled into my ear. I turn to her and yell back, “is that the guy you called Papa Emeritus?” pointing to the masked skeleton man. She nods to say yes.

I turn my focus back to the stage in time to see the man named Papa is standing so close to where Grace and I are in the crowd. He looks down at us and tilts his head. The song is ending, and he finishes the last verse. Papa began to speak to the crowd.

“How are we doing tonight children!” Papa yelled, the crowd erupted in cheers and fists went flying into the air. “Good, Good!” Papa replied. “Then put your fucking fists in the air!” The masked man yelled into the microphone and the crowd obeyed. The next song took off and I turned my focus to the figures in all black roaming around the stage. I tapped Grace’s shoulder, tearing her away from the show. “Who are they supposed to be?” I yelled into her ear.

They're the nameless ghouls! They're kind of like Papa’s henchmen, I think? They're sexy as fuck!” she screamed, leaving my ear ringing. I watched as one of the ghouls stalked forward. I could have sworn he was staring at us. He stopped and stood a few feet away, staring. His head fell to the side slightly and he stood stoic as his hands slid over the strings of his guitar. I briefly imagined what it would feel like to have those deft fingers touching me. It’s as if the other ghouls picked up on it because soon three ghouls were standing before me staring. It appeared as if they were whispering to one another, and suddenly they broke apart, retreating to different sections of the stage.

Grace was staring in shock, she grabbed my hand and yelled into my ear once more, “I can't believe that just happened, they were totally staring at us!” She released me and began to dance and sing again. I turned back to the show. I have to admit, I found myself lost in the beauty of the ghouls. Their striking uniforms, their bold masks that border terrifying, the way they prowl. Yet they had a lightness to them too, they were playful on stage and had a way of controlling the crowd.

I began to understand what everyone was so worked up about. This was something I could truly get behind. A group of people gathered to worship satanic metal music together free of judgment. No one is angry, no one is hurting, everyone is on the same page, just here to celebrate and have fun. I began to think about my childhood. Growing up in such a religious household had certainly left its mark. Sometimes I felt a pull to darker things. I had spent so many years trying to fit into the mold my parents made for me. But I just couldn’t do it. I wanted more freedom for myself than that.

So, I broke away. I had always considered myself an atheist, Christianity didn’t cut it for me so why believe in anything? But I could believe in this, I could believe in Ghost and what they stood for. Another song began and this time Grace pulled me close to tell me it was called “Mummy Dust” and that the ghouls go crazy during this song. Not really understanding what she meant I just shrugged it off.

Papa was running around the stage singing and tossing his mic, keeping the energy high at all times. The ghouls were prowling around as usual, when one of them approached me again. The song began to slow. The ghoul was tall and slender, he stood in front of me stroking his white guitar. I watched as he let go of the guitar to run his hand along his cheek, dragging two fingers across his tongue. My pulse quickened and I felt my lips turn into a grin. I was loving this, just like Grace said. The ghoul kept running that hand all the way down his chest and to his guitar where he began stroking. And to his “climax” cannons erupted and confetti fell everywhere. I was so blown away by what I had just witnessed and extremely turned on by it.

Everyone was so distracted by the confetti, and I soon realized why, raining down from the sky was what appeared to be dollar bills. I snagged one out of the air and examined it, it appeared to be fake and had information regarding joining the “Clergy” to become a “Sister of Sin.” I barely had time to stuff the bill in my pocket before I felt myself being pulled backward. I felt a cold bar drag against my back before realizing that I was being pulled over the guard rail by a security officer in all black. I glanced behind me to see that Grace was in tow as well. I was relieved to not be alone in this situation. I didn’t have long to wonder what Grace and I had done wrong to be removed by security, when I glanced up, the same ghoul that stood before me touching himself was walking along the stage as security dragged me away. The last thing I saw before being removed through two double doors were the ghouls staring and Papa waving at me, the crowd still distracted by the confetti and fake money.

Once behind closed doors the rather large and muscular security guards sat us down and explained that Papa had requested a meeting with us. Grace squealed in excitement while I stood there confused. Why would the lead singer of a metal band want to see the two of us? It’s not like Grace and I are anything special. A woman came to the room to offer us a beverage while we waited for Papa. The woman wore a skintight black maxi dress with a black chiffon veil draped behind her head. She was adorned in all kinds of silver jewelry and was absolutely gorgeous. She introduced herself as Sister Katie and explained that she was a member of the Clergy and was herself a Sister of Sin.

I of course had no idea what was going on, but Grace was going ape shit next to me. She briefly explained that Papa Emeritus was a Demonic Preist. His mission in life was to tour around the world accompanied by his band of Nameless Ghouls to spread the word of the Clergy. She also went on to explain that her job is to take care of whatever Papa needs.

“So why are we being sequestered Katie?” I asked sarcastically. “Sister Katie,” Grace corrected me. “Ah, sorry, Sister Katie...? I amended. “It’s alright,” Sister Katie replied shaking her hands fervently before continuing. “You’re being summoned likely because Papa saw something in you tonight and he needs that something,” she went on. Suddenly there was a knock on the door, the three of us turned to see Papa Emeritus enter the room in his blue sequined vest. He threw his hands in the air.

“Ladies! Welcome, I am so glad you have chosen to join me for a chat.” He spoke. I found that comical given the fact we were dragged in here, but I kept my mouth shut. I was actually interested in what he had to say. Papa’s head tipped to the side, and he looked confused. “You do know why you’re here? Don’t you?” he asked. I folded my arms taking a deep sigh, “I know we were dragged here by two security officers before the show was even over.” I spoke evenly playing that I wasn’t enjoying this bullshit. Deep down I felt curious, I felt a pull, as if something big could happen from this one encounter. “Ah, I see,” Papa said as he shrugged and looked dejectedly at the floor before once again throwing his hands up in the air. “A simple misunderstanding! Please, please,” he said as he gestured to a modern sofa and chairs in the middle of the room.

I took a seat and Sister Katie made her way to a minibar against the wall. She began working on drinks, Papa interrupted my gaze by sitting down just across from me in an armchair. There was something comforting in his presence. I felt as though I could bare my soul and that nothing I could ever say would scare or startle him. I could feel something seeping into the depths of my soul. But I needed to know why we were here so I waited in silence for him to continue.

Papa broke the silence as soon as Grace took her seat next to me, “Ladies, are you familiar with my mission with the band Ghost?” Grace’s hand shot in the air and Papa smiled, “Yes, cherub?” he asked. Grace took a big breath in, “Ghost is a metal rock band preaching the freedom of Satanism and guiding people to being better human beings.” Grace stated confidently.

Papa nodded, “Ah, yes, yes my cherub, but we are also so much more than that. We fight for freedom, womens freedom, sexual freedom, freedom of expression, we accept all.” Papa continued. Sister Katie had returned to the party and sat a tray of beverages down on the coffee table between us. Four champagne flutes sat infront of us, bubbling with a red clear liquid. I waited until Papa grabbed a glass and took a sip before following suit. Grace was already sipping her drink.

“Sister Katie, could you please bring in the Ghouls my love?” Papa asked glancing over his shoulder at Sister Katie, she nodded taking a small curtsey before leaving the room. So, now was the time we would get to see the Nameless Ghouls up close. Now this I was excited for, something about them up there on stage got me fired up. One of them did more licking than anything else on stage, so needless to say I was more than intrigued.

Papa cleared his throat, “Ladies, you seemed to have quite the effect on my Ghouls. They spent most of the night on stage in front of you! This is a rare quality, you, see? My Ghouls are very, shall we say, mischievous. They require, supervision you understand, yes?” Papa waited for us to nod in response. He kept explaining, “The Sisters of Sin are some of the most prestigious members of the Clergy you, see? They are the Matriarch, they are the ones that keep us together, the ones that keep us running. We very much so love and respect our Sisters of Sin. Ghost has begun to pick up in popularity, with that means more touring. My Ghouls have been on the road before but never this long, I fear they may need more guidance.

I am recruiting Sister’s to train with the band. I have some ideas regarding our show. I would like to see our Sisters of Sin represented on stage. Yes, I want our Sisters of Sin to not only watch the Ghouls and ensure they behave, but I would like to see Sisters dancing and singing on stage with us. My Ghouls were enthralled with you two tonight, and it struck me, this was a sign. You two are perfect for the band. And so, without further ado, ladies, will you join us, will you join the Clergy to spread the freedom of Satan's way?” Papa was beyond excited at this point. He sat and waited in anticipation.

At that moment the door opened and Sister Katie walked through followed by one after another Nameless Ghoul. They seemed to come in all shapes and sizes. The first to walk through the door was a tall male with a runner's body, I recognized him as the one that liked to lick. Grace nudged my rib and whispered and pointed “that one is Alpha, but I like to call him Fire.”

The Ghouls were dressed in head-to-toe black. Now that I was closer, I could see that their masks were incredible, they appeared to be some sort of post-apocalyptic gas masks with small horns protruding through the top. The next through the door was a woman with a perfectly curvy body, one I would have killed to have. She walked in and took a seat on the arm of the chair that Papa sat in and began to play with his hair. Next through the door was a larger male figure with a stocky build, his sleeves were rolled up and I noticed he had several pieces of silver jewelry adorning his fingers and wrists, he seemed bold. “That was Beta, but he prefers to be called Aether. He’s second to Alpha in command of the Ghouls.” Grace whispered quickly.

Lastly through the door was an athletic built male with broad shoulders, strutted up to the other Ghouls taking his place behind Papa. “Thats Rain, he’s the Bassist, and the sexiest in my opinion.” Grace said louder than a whisper this time. She quickly turned red and began fidgeting in her seat. Papa chuckled. “Where are the other Ghouls?” Papa asked.

Alpha’s voice came through his mask deep and rich, it sounded almost otherworldly, “They’re currently indisposed Master” The other Ghouls chuckled under their masks, all except Aether who lightly smacked Rain on the back of his mask. I swore I heard a deep groan from under Rain’s mask. Papa cleared his throat snapping everyone back to the conversation at hand. “See ladies, this is why I need you; I need someone to keep my nameless Ghouls in check.” Papa pleaded with us.

I was looking at Papa but Alpha stole my attention as his tongue slowly came through his mask licking his lips, I felt a shudder deep in my stomach, or perhaps deeper than that. Finally this close, I could see that the Ghouls wore black scarves over their mouths during the show, but now they had them pulled down exposing what appeared to be human flesh. So, Grace was wrong, they weren't otherworldly beings, they were just people in masks.

Grace screamed yes so loud my ear began to ring. The one called Alpha had not yet broken eye contact with me. I stared back at him, he tilted his head and suddenly this felt like a pissing contest. So I tilted my head in return and to my surprise, I said “yes.” I saw a smile form on Alpha's face and Papa shot out of his chair. “Hail Satanas, Sister welcome to the Clergy and welcome to the band. While I am saddened by the fact that not all the Ghouls are here to witness this moment, I know they will be excited to meet you as soon as possible.” Papa said walking around the table to embrace both Grace and me. He snagged both of us placing a kiss on each of our cheeks before turning to leave the room. “Sister Katie will arrange your transportation tomorrow, we hit the road at dusk for Illinois!” Papa hollered back at us shutting the door behind him.

Sister Katie had already made her way to us and embraced us both at the same time, “Welcome Sisters, I am so excited to have you with us!” she said. Let’s get your information and then you ladies can head home to get your affairs in order. I will arrange your ride tomorrow. Remember, dusk.” she finished.

As we exchanged information the Ghouls had taken over the couch. I glanced back to see them lounging. Aether sat in the armchair, while Alpha sat on the sofa. I was slightly surprised at the fact that Rain had his head resting in Alpha's lap but I figured they were a tight group. The female Ghoul, whose name I had discovered earlier, was Cirrus, she was sitting on the top of the couch playing with Alpha’s horns. They seemed drawn to him; I suppose that’s why he was called Alpha after all.

Sister Katie had taken down all of our information and we finally parted ways. Grace and I left the building in a daze. I felt as though I had no recollection of what just happened. My mind was buzzing with the impossibility of the situation. Grace and I had just been asked to babysit the nameless Ghouls while performing with the band Ghost as backup dancers and singers. Fuck, what if I couldn’t sing?

[hothothotch]

𝟬𝟭. 𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝘀...

TW: blood.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

THEY SURELY GOT ABSOLUTELY NOTHING ON YOU.

No more than 24 hours had gone by since George Foyet called you with his doomsday message, but that was enough to have your nerves completely unsettled — and unfortunately for you, who always considered yourself as someone that was always in control of your own feelings, you were really close to losing your mind.

Not that you believed in a word said by George's crazy lips (you've learned soon enough that his mind worked differently from... well, anyone, and while he was a computer genius — one that had fixed your own computer problems more than once —, he was also a victim of a dormant serial killer, which meant that he had traumas that definitely made him function differently from you), and you knew they were usually lies, conspiracy theories or food cravings, but even you had to confess that receiving his call on the day before Tom Shaunessy — a former police officer from Boston PD — died was a hell of a coincidence.

Or maybe George's guts were finally starting to get things right.

No, no, no. You couldn't give yourself the luxury of thinking George was right, because if he was right, he was in danger, and considering your shared background, you were acutely aware that if George Foyet was, in any capacity, in danger, you were possibly the next one in line.

"He's probably not right" you muttered to yourself for what was possibly the 100th that day, your hands moving frantically as you tried your best to clean up a glass you had in your hands, "Yeah, he's crazy. He could never be right. Everything's ok, and George is just crazy...".

"The best people are" a female voice came from behind you, causing you to jump on your place, turning to meet the friendly face of Diana Clairemont looking back at you, her blonde hair perfectly tied in a fancy bun (something not too usual), "And considering your talking to yourself, I guess you're a bit crazy, too".

Diana's words were low, almost confidential, and the smirk on her lips as she leaned to tell you her "secret" showed you she was just kidding; still, you couldn't bring yourself to offer her nothing but a strangled and not real smile as you placed the clean glass among the others.

"If I'm not..." you muttered to yourself, clearing your throat loudly before grabbing yet another cup, "I sure will be soon enough".

Diana's eyes were pitiful when she took a deep breath, diminishing the space between the two of you to place one friendly hand on your lower arm before you could re-start your previous cleaning agenda, "Craziness is a state of mind, honey" she said, and her accent — a strong, clear, British accent, a contrast to your own Mexican one — showing as it usually did whenever she was offering someone a piece of advice (or scolding her husband), "Wanna talk about it?".

You didn't. God knows you didn't. But after Foyet called you, you had the worst 24 hours of your life, and since your therapist seemed to be too busy to answer your calls — which, you thought, should be prohibited —, talking with someone seemed better than bottling up your feelings for more and more time, until it consumed you.

Just like what happened the last time.

"A friend called" you sighed heavily, placing the glass back on its previous place to cross your arm in front of your body, eyes fixed on the big windows that showed a clear image of the road outside, a bustle of people walking in and out of stores, smiley and happy, minding their own business as if nothing could get to them. You know something that could, something that would end their happiness for the rest of their lives, but something you could never desire them to feel, "He practically said that the end of the world is knocking at the door, and I just... I don't know, I've been thinking about it".

"About the doomsday?".

"No!" you chuckled dryly, shaking your head as you looked down at your feet, "You know... when I was a kid... something happened. Something that forced my parents into moving back to Mexico, so I could have stability and could take care of my mental health..." Diana hummed in agreement, and you knew by the look you saw when you stared at her that she had found her own word for what had happened, and that word was abuse, "It's not its birthday or anything like that, but the cop who was taking care of the case just... passed. And I feel like things are linked. That's it, I'm pretty much crazy".

"Oh, honey, no! You're not crazy!" Diana assured, pulling your for a sided and mostly clumsy hug (or what she could make look like a hug, considering that you were taller than her), "So many things happened at the same time, it's normal to think those things are linked in some degree. And while I imagine you felt safe while he was alive..." you didn't, "You may think that now he's passed, you'll be in danger again. That's a mind trick, you're gonna be ok".

You nodded, muttering a small and weak "Thank you, Di" before squeezing her arm to acknowledge her kindness. Diana was really a good person, and have her around in a moment like that was a gift, considering she gave you a space to let out whatever you feared — and right now, you feared a lot.

But the point was: Diana knew nothing about your background story; as far as she knew — as far as most of the town knew — you were just a good cook from a poor Mexican family that was lucky enough to be blessed with the opportunity of having your own business in a country that had a lot of questions with Latin-American people. You were the one in a million, that rare coin grandpa's kept hidden because they were rare enough to be worth the value of their own houses. You were an example to every little Latin-American girl who had heard that they should return to their own country.

You were a very lucky girl.

On the other side, though, the truth was a lot darker than anyone could think — they didn't know about the years of PTSD; how you could barely leave your home, afraid of whatever hid in the darkness; how you never felt safe at home again; how waking up every day was both a curse and a blessing; they didn't know that even the names of your cakes had a past, and a story, and a deep meaning.

People knew nothing about you, so to expect they understood your pain was... impossible. Because the only person that could understand it was...

A crazy, doomsday-prophet man that barely made it out of his house.

Maybe you and George needed to have a little talk.

"You feeling better?" Diana asked after a few moments of silence, that same small smile still dancing on her lips as she looked up at you — it was, to some extent, a maternal look, and you were grateful you still had that even with your mother miles away from you.

"Yeah, I am. Maybe the only way to get rid of those thoughts is if I go straight to its source" you said, stomping on your feet as you offered the older woman a smile of your own, "Matilda! I need a Foyet, please!".

Your waiter, Matilda, looked at you from over her shoulder, saluting you as she started to march to the showcase where all the cakes were, "Yes, Ma'am!".

You laughed at her foolishness, turning back to face Diana, whose smile had not faltered yet. With a last squeeze on her arm, you started your walk towards Matilda, ready to pick the to-go box of cake when the bell on the door rang, causing you to look up at the door, a frown appearing on your face at the man who had just joined that ambiance.

"Roy?" you asked, clearly baffled, "What are you doing here? Thought you'd talk to Shaunessy's family—".

"Something else came up" Roy informed, walking hurriedly towards you, his hands moving frantically as he spoke, "You need to come with me, now".

"Why?" you asked, your accent a lot more pronounced now that your anxiety started to slowly come back at his own nervousness — you've known Roy for a long time, and you've never seen him as unsettled as he seemed to be at that moment, "What happened?".

"I'll explain on the way, but now you need to—".

"No!" you replied firmly, stepping firmly to stand your ground. You didn't realize when you switched to your mother language, petulance in your every word, "No me iré a ninguna parte hasta que me digas lo que pasó!".

Roy didn't speak Spanish (and you knew that because you've helped him as a translator in a lot of his cases), but it didn't take him a lot to understand what you were saying, even in a different language — if he didn't start talking, he should be ready to stay the whole day trying to move you out of that bakery, because you wouldn't leave.

He sighed heavily, running both his hands over his face before finally looking back up to you — and that was the first time you saw he wasn't just nervous or stressed, he was also tired.

A goosebump ran up your spine, and when he finally uttered the next words, a part of you already knew it was coming.

"He's back. The Reaper is back".

(***)

CAUSE EVEN THE BEST WORRIER THAT EVER WAS GOT NOTHING ON AARON HOTCHNER — not a not-so-fully relaxed Aaron Hotchner (the one who appeared whenever he had to explain to Jack why mommy wasn't joining them for dinner again) and much less with a dead-set to a goal SSA Aaron Hotchner.

It wasn't exactly a secret to anyone that, from the moment he left the US Attorneys to become an FBI Agent, Aaron had immediately become an overthinker — a polite way not to call him an extreme paranoid; of course, it didn't show at the job, place where he was supposed to always be calm and collected (and he made it perfectly, by the way), but those traits showed up whenever he was away, in moments he'd spend with Jack, or the rare talks with Haley...

Oh, and last night when Tom Shaunessy told him they were being watched by a prolific Serial Killer. That was the highlight of his night.

"There's something bothering you" Rossi whispered, leaning against the table that separated him and Aaron, his analytic eyes focused on his friend, one glass of scotch (that he shouldn't be drinking, considering they were working) in hands as he tried to cover his lips not to call the attention of the rest of the team, "Mind sharing?".

"Aside from the fact that Shaunessy made a deal with the devil and now we have to find and arrest a dormant serial killer?" Aaron grumbled between his teeth, not looking up from his papers, "No, I think that's all that's bothering me".

It wasn't. And Aaron knew that Rossi was aware of that.

"Hmm" the older man hummed, grabbing his own file to take a look at it, "That's an unsettling fact, yes... but I think you're more worried about something that's not here..."

Aaron peeked up at Rossi through his thick eyelashes, sighing heavily with an unamused expression on his face when he muttered, "I guess you're gonna tell me what it is?".

David smiled cheekily, and it didn't take a profiler to know how pleased he was about that talk — and about his ability to show off how smarter he was, if compared to Aaron (who, they all knew, was a really good profiler), "The gap".

“Which gap?” Aaron asked, raising one brow. Had he noticed the gap? Yes. Would he tell David, and let that cocky smile on the older profiler’s face grow bigger? Of course not!

“Don’t play dumb, Aaron. Doesn’t fit you” David retorted, "I know you noticed the gap between Michele and Felicity's killing, how he spent more than his usual cooling off period without killing anyone—"

"And how Felicity was his last victim before Shaunessy's deal, yes" he gave up, finally allowing himself to completely look at David, "What do you want me to say now?".

"Why this is bothering you" the older man shrugged, one brow raised, "Because I can see it is. Something tells me that you've seen something in this gap, something more than you're willing to tell us".

"Because it's just a theory" Aaron retorted, "A theory based in a bigger cool off period, that possibly doesn't mean anything—".

"But that can give us a lead" Rossi retorted, licking his lips, "So if you won't tell me, I'm gonna build my own theory about your theory".

Aaron didn't reply, keeping his eyes set on David for a few moments, aware that his co-worker was studying him — Rossi was one of the few Agents at BAU able to profile him, and possibly (no, certainly) the only one he didn't close himself off to; he knew that a part of him, as hidden as it was, wanted Rossi to read him, to know what he was thinking. That way he wouldn't be the one burdening people with his points of view, or pitiful stories — he couldn't be accused of plaguing someone when they found it out first.

Maybe his inability of opening up was the reason why his marriage ended. That is, another reason why his marriage ended — at this point he had found so many of them, that he could barely discover which one was the real reason.

"I think you believe there's another victim" David pointed finally, his hands moving through the pictures inside his manila folder, analyzing each and every one with care and attention, "Someone we never knew about, and they couldn't have died, otherwise we'd know".

Aaron nodded slowly, leaning heavily against his chest, feeling the weight of this whole case weighing on his shoulders, "I don't wanna believe it, though" he confessed in a low tone, "Because if there's another victim, and they're alive, it means that Shaunessy uncovered an attempted murder for the sake of his career, and this story is getting worst at every minute".

David nodded slowly, his face showing he understood Aaron's point — if there was a surviving victim, one that dated that far on the investigation... well, he couldn't imagine the retaliation the Boston PD would suffer over it, over Tom Shaunessy's mistake.

"He did what he thought was right, Aaron" David said lowly, closing his folder and taking a sip of his drink, "I'm not saying Shaunessy is innocent, he's not, but he regrets his choice".

"Yes, but the first thing we learn at the Academy is that those calls..." he pointed at the rough contract the Reaper had given Shaunessy, "We don't make them. We don't decide whether a serial killer's gonna be free or not, we make sure they'll pay for what they've done, prosecuted to the full extent of the law...".

"But we're profilers. We're FBI" David emphasized the last word, as if Aaron had forgotten it for a minute in his speech, "We make decisions that can affect the whole country, we travel all around it to make sure everyone is as safe as possible, and we do whatever it takes to make sure they're safe and sound" he stopped for a minute, taking into Aaron's expression — as usual, Aaron had a scowl on his face, but the lines were softer, a sign that, even though he didn't agree with everything David was saying, he was still listening, and still learning, "Shaunessy thought he was doing the right thing to protect Boston, and for ten years it worked pretty well. He did what he could do with the limited resources he had. Now it's on us to use every resource we have to make sure history doesn't repeat itself. To do better than Shaunessy could ever do".

Aaron humphed, looking outside the jet's window, the rays of sun warming his face as he took inhaled and exhaled for a moment before turning back to the folder, "History is already repeating itself" he said, staring at the pictures of the most recent couple killed, "Let's just make sure it won't be as terrible as it was the first time".

(***)

CAUSE EVEN THE BEST WORRIER THAT EVER WAS... there were no more headlines to describe what was happening that day.

You licked your lips slowly, your eyes fixed on the crime scene in front of you, hands going up and down your arms nervously as you bit your inner cheek, the pain starting to build and the metallic taste of blood already present on your lips.

"It can't be happening" you whispered, looking at the black car that had just parked outside the crime scene's limits, "Not again, it can't be...".

You felt when Diana's hands touched your upper arm in a comforting way, just as she had done previously that day; you weren't exactly sure why she and Matthew had decided to come with you and Roy to the crime scene, but they seemed as baffled as you, keeping their bodies close to yours as if trying to shield you from whatever was making you nervous.

They didn't know, and yet there they were.

"Sargeant O'Mara says it's a copycat" Matthew said, but his eyes showed clearly that he had his own doubts about it. Looking down at you, he tried to offer a weak smile before reaching for his pocket, taking his phone out of it, "I have a friend at CIA, maybe...".

"What is he doing here?".

Diana and Matthew immediately turned to look at the same spot you were, head slightly tilted to the side, "I know him" Diana commented, "He worked at Scotland Yard for a few days, helped on a case".

"It's Aaron Hotchner," you said in a whisper, "He's with BAU, he investigated the original case, he..." you stuttered when your eyes met for a second, taking an almost unnoticeable step behind. But if Aaron Hotchner noticed it, he didn't show anything before turning his back towards the car where the victims were left, "If he's here, it means..."

"That it's not a copycat" Roy finished.

You hated romantic books — the cliché ones more than any other. You hated how they always romanticized the terrible and suffocating sensation of fainting because you had had your fair share of experience with fainting to know things didn't happen as glamorously as in the books.

Now, for example, it all started with the sensation of not being able to breathe; it was like your windpipe had suddenly closed, and even the memory of how to breathe had faded away — you knew you were inhaling, but was just impossible to let it out. Then, you weren't able to hear anything. You could see Diana's lips moving, her eyes wide in worry as she tried to get a hold of you — and while you knew you were slowly moving away, you couldn't feel your feet moving.

The blur was the next thing you noticed, and the last...

Before you hit the ground.

taglist: @realdirectionx

[panickinganakin]

stepping stones to hell ch. 5 (ronance fic)

hello!! all previous chapters can be found here!

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Robin splashed cold water over her face then dried it with a towel. Sleeping on the tour bus was so hard which made waking up when she was able to sleep in her own bed rough. She stared at herself in the mirror, studying the bags under her eyes. She was supposed to meet Nancy at one and not intended to sleep until eleven. It just sort of happened. 

She brushed her teeth then made her way back into her room. As much as she loved touring and playing shows, she loved being home. 

The band had been fortunate enough to start making very very good money. The first thing she had done was buy a small house on a bit of private land. She had put a lot of thought and work into decorating her space so it really felt like her home. 

Her bedroom consisted of various things. She had a king sized bed with black silk sheets and red pillows. She had a large framed movie poster for Back To The Future with the same guitar Marty played at the prom mounted on the wall next to it. On the left side of the room was a large dark brown wooden dresser. 

On top of the dresser was a jewelry box shaped like a coffin, a gift from Eddie that he handmade himself. On the inside of the coffin were places to hang necklaces and earrings. But on the door he had painted the date she had joined the band in small pink numbers. 

Though she wasn’t the greatest plant mom, she did have a small cactus sitting in the window sill as well. Succulents didn’t need much attention so it was easy to keep this alive while touring.

Her closet was a decent size which was good since she collected lots of silly t’s while on tour. Anytime they were able to stop and explore a city she always looked for some sort of cheesy shirt or hat. 

Typically though, Robin would have chosen her favorite David Bowie shirt because she wore it everywhere. However she didn’t wash the shirt before they left for tour. So, she instead grabbed some jeans and a Goonies t-shirt. 

She brushed out her hair and decided to wear a navy blue ball cap free of bad jokes. She was about to head out the door when her phone started to ring. She hurried to the kitchen to pick it up, “Hello?” 

“Hey!” Steve’s voice came from the other end. “I just wanted to let you know that I love you, and I’m proud of you. What you’re doing today is a big deal.” 

Robin’s posture softened and she managed to choke out, “Thanks, Steve. I love you, too.” 

“Okay, well. Be safe, I’ll see you in a couple days. Call me if you need anything, bye!” 

“Bye,” she said before hanging the phone back on the wall. 

She took a few minutes to water her plants that weren’t succulents which by some miracle had also survived while she was away. She really needed to make friends with the closest neighbor so she had someone keeping an eye on things. 

She heard the clock in the living room ding which meant it was twelve. She had an hour until it was time to meet Nancy and had about a forty minute drive. “Shit,” she sighed, grabbing her car keys off the wall.  

Robin never really got better at driving. She actually hated it and reminisced frequently on the days Steve chauffeured her around. She hated being behind the wheel with so many cars on the road. Too many people honking, not enough people using blinkers. It was stressful. 

The one thing that got her through driving every time was her trusted cassette. The Cranberries’ album Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We. She never changed it. It was her true comfort, not to mention she believed now that if she tried to change it she would wreck or something wild would happen. Not that that surprised her, she had been superstitious since she was a child. However, being self aware of that fact didn’t mean she could change it. 

The closer she was to arriving at Petey’s, the more anxious she felt. Even though it was a cool day outside her palms were sweating. She gripped the steering wheel tighter. This is the right thing to do. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to shout your truth. 

Robin reminded herself that every single person she truly loved already knew and they still loved her. She hated that she even felt like this was a struggle. She was proud to be herself. Though it had been a long and hard journey, Robin loved herself. It was just the things instilled in her when she was younger that left herself under lock and key. 

She took deep breaths as she pulled into the parking lot. You are okay. She reminded herself. 

She stared at the building and watched a small group of people leave. At least this would be in Nancy’s hands. Though they hadn’t had a continued friendship through the years, Robin knew she could trust her. 

She got out of the car and looked around the parking lot. She wondered what Nancy drove or if she was here yet. “Robin!” She heard her name being called behind her. 

She turned to see Nancy standing at the door, waving. “Hey!” Robin followed her inside the cafe. 

Robin forgot how much she missed this place every time she came home. She looked around, admiring the new menu. The last time she had been in was spring time so the chalk menu had flowers, easter eggs and was done in bright pink and purple colors. Now that they were on the cusp of Fall the menu was brown, red and orange. There were pumpkins in the bottom corner of the menu with a ghost in the center. 

 “I have a table in the back,” Nancy stated as they walked through the establishment. 

Nancy already had her pen, paper and voice recorder out. They took their seats and Nancy smiled at Robin, “How was sleeping in a real bed?” 

Robin groaned, “You have no idea how awful those stupid tour beds are.” 

“I know how much I hate sleeping in motels for work so bus beds have to be worse.” She sipped at the white mug on the table. 

“Do you drink your coffee black?” Robin asked, a bit disturbed after noticing the contents of Nancy’s mug lacked any color. 

Nancy raised an eyebrow at Robin, “How do you drink yours?” 

“Definitely sugar and half and half. I prefer a fun little flavor, maybe like mocha or something.” 

Nancy nodded her head, “That checks out.” 

Robin scoffed, pretending to act offended. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

She laughed and shook her head, “Nothing. It’s just.. Well, you look like someone who couldn’t stomach black coffee.” 

Robin rolled her eyes but smiled as a woman approached their table, “Good afternoon. Would you like to order anything?” 

“Just a coffee, lots of cream and chocolate please.” 

The girl nodded before parting quickly. “Now, Robin Buckley, drummer of sensational band Corroded Coffin who, if I may add, is taking the world by storm. What are the things you must tell me?” 

Robin was enjoying the side of Nancy. The times they had spent were during scary and traumatic events. There was little room for humor then so this change was nice. “Right into, huh?” Robin asked, starting to feel nervous again. 

“Well I’m just so curious what it is that has you wanting to waste time with me on your two days home.” 

Robin tilted her head, “If I wasn’t here I’d be home alone watching the same movies I always do.” 

“Fair enough. I guess I’m just curious.” 

The waitress came back with a purple mug and handed it to Robin who thanked her. She sipped on the coffee for a moment, debating on how to start the conversation. She tapped the handle of the cup before taking a breath. “Okay, so. I know the article is about me being a woman and my success but also the struggles I’ve faced just because I’m a woman.” She paused and Nancy nodded for her to continue. 

As Nancy tapped the ink pen against the page Robin noticed her nails were painted green which was Robin’s favorite color. She wondered what Nancy’s favorite color was. Then she knew she was distracting herself instead of just saying it. “Okay. Fine. It’s more than just being a woman in the industry. It’s being a queer woman. I’m gay. I’m a lesbian. And I know, I know I haven’t been out. So, I know it’s unfair to say I’ve faced struggles as someone who is in the closet but I have had my own obstacles. I know how hard it is to be gay during times like these. I have been terrified to speak my truth and be myself. You and Steve both said yesterday to just be me and I can’t do that if I’m too much of a coward to say it. I have been at protests and I’ve labeled myself an ally but it is so so much more than that.” 

Robin paused to take a breath. It felt good to say it. Nancy was staring at her, pen unmoving. She blinked slowly then nodded her head, encouraging Robin to continue. “I have been scared my whole life of living my truth and I’m done hiding. I want people to know. I want my fans to know that I’m proud of myself and them. I want them to know if they’re gay it isn’t abnormal. It isn’t all the cruel things people say in the media. It just is. C’est comme ça.” 

Nancy took another drink of her coffee. Her eyes told Robin she was searching for something to say. “This is a big deal. So let me say, I’m proud of you. Let me also say-“ 

Robin couldn’t help but interrupt her. She was scared Nancy was going to shoot the idea down. “I know this is a sensitive topic. I know that it can cause a lot of backlash to She Supremacy. I know this but Nancy, this is so important to me.” 

“Robin, this is important to me too.” She laid a hand over her heart, “I am honored you trust me with this. You’re right, this is a sensitive topic. It’s your livelihood and of course you are going to receive backlash. However, we all have. It’s part of it. But, the good it brings will outweigh anything bigots say. You will be happier. You can love freely. And also, you have the ability to save people with this information. I know you know how scary being gay can be simply because there are people who hate you just for existing. She Supremacy is a safe space. We will run your story. I just want to make sure this is what you want. This is your privacy. But, like I said, you sharing your story could help so many people.” 

Robin let out a breath of relief. Nancy seemed to understand so well. “I’m hoping it does. I know what having Elton John did for me and I just want to be able to help.” 

“I think it’s very brave of you. I would love to write this in.” She paused for a drink of her coffee, “So, do you want to come out in the article or casually mention that you’re a queer artist? We can do the big thing or be subtle.” 

Robin closed her eyes in thought. She had never been good with words. But, Nancy Wheeler was better than good with words, she practically owned them. “I… Think you should write it. I think however you can word it best. I want to be out. I have been to a few protests and stuff but, I want them to know I’m fighting for them and me too.” 

“I have some ideas. It will take me a couple of days to write and I know you will leave soon. Here,” she ripped off a scrap of her paper and scribbled a number down on it. “Call me by Tuesday, it should be done by then. I’ll be home after two, so anytime after that. I’ll read it to you and you can let me know what to do.” 

Robin pocketed the phone number and sighed. She leaned back in her chair. She had never felt so free in her life. She was going to finally be herself. 

Nancy packed up her things into a brown satchel. “I’m really excited for this. I think it’s going to be a hit. And, not like in the way I want to profit off you,” she started to rush her words. “I don’t mean that. I just want it to reach more people because what we do is important.” She squeezed her eyes shut then laughed lightly. “Sorry, I just wanted to be clear. I didn’t want you to think I was using you or something. This story, your story, is very important to me.”

Robin smiled genuinely, “Thank you, Nancy. This means so much to me.” 

She stood from the table, taking both of their receipts. “Thanks for agreeing to meet today. I’ll talk to you soon?” 

“Soon, sure.” Nancy gave her one last smile then stood from the table. “I can get my coffee, Robin.”

Robin shook her head, “You get it next time.” 

Nancy threw her bag over her shoulder then shrugged slightly. “Right, well. I look forward to your call.”

[casspurrjoybell-25]

Cold as Ice - Chapter 5 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

"You put on quite a show just now."

Seeing Wren just made me even more angry.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I snapped.

How many times was this guy just going to randomly show up in my life?

"I was driving when I saw you running for your life down the sidewalk," Wren answered and I scowled at him to hide my embarrassment.

"And then I got to witness your little fit, so something's telling me you missed your bus."

I didn't answer him and he made no move to drive away.

"Well, are you going to get in or what?" Wren asked, impatiently tapping on the steering wheel.

"No," I replied.

"Why would I willingly get in a car with you?"

"Because you need a ride home to see your sister," he said.

My eyes widened slightly at his words.

I was really beginning to think he was a mind reader.

"How do you even know that," I exclaimed, standing up from the bench.

"Are you some kind of fucking weirdo keeping tabs on me?"

Wren rolled his eyes.

"You said it last night while you were drunk out of your mind."

Right, he had said something like that this morning.

Just another reason to never go out and get drunk ever again.

"So, you can either get a ride with me, since I'm heading that way anyway," Wren started.

"Or you can sit around and wait for the next bus which is... never?"

I contemplated for a moment.

No part of me wanted to get in the car with Wren.

Not only was he a weirdo but I didn't trust him and I didn't want to be in a position where I owed him something.

Something told me that he wasn't one to just give out favors and expect nothing in return.

"Lance, you have about two seconds before I'm gone," Wren called out, pulling me from my thoughts.

I huffed and grabbed my bags before walking over to the car.

I pulled open the passenger door and got in.

Wren didn't waste any time pulling away from the curb once the door was shut, causing me to bang my head on the window.

Wren didn't seem to notice the scowl I threw his way as I shoved my bag into the backseat and put my seatbelt on.

He picked up his cell-phone without looking away from the road and un-paused his music.

Well, what I expected to be music.

It turned out to be someone talking, reading something aloud.

"What the hell is this?" I asked after a few moments.

The half an hour drive back home would feel like hours if I had to listen to this the whole time.

"It's an audiobook," Wren replied casually.

I knew he was some kind of creature rather than a person because who the fuck listens to audiobooks in the car.

"This is what you listen to?" I asked, disgust in my tone.

"What even are you?"

Wren shrugged as he turned to merge onto the highway.

"I like to read," he said.

"I can't read while I drive, so I listen. It's not a hard concept but I understand if someone with your ineptitude has trouble with it."

I ignored him, crossing my arms over my chest as he switched lanes.

The traffic we hit was going to make the half hour drive closer to forty-five minutes or an hour.

Wren didn't seem to mind.

He was content listening to his stupid book.

I, on the other hand, wanted nothing more for this car ride to be over.

My leg anxiously bounced up and down as we slowly inched forward in the traffic.

Wren let out a laugh and I couldn't tell if he was laughing at me or something that happened in the book but hearing it made me angry anyway.

"Are we really going to listen to this shit the whole way?" I snapped, causing Wren to direct his attention to me.

"It's either this or silence."

"I'd rather sit in silence."

That was a mistake to say because Wren took me seriously and paused his book and now the two of us were going five miles an hour on the highway with no noise other than the beeping cars around us.

"This better?" he asked me.

I could practically hear the smugness in his voice.

No matter how uncomfortable this was, I wasn't going to ask him to turn it back on.

"So, you'd rather complete silence?" Wren asked.

"Okay."

He started tapping on the steering wheel at about the same pace as my bouncing leg.

This suddenly felt like a mistake.

Sitting here with Wren was practically torture and I knew deep down, he wasn't doing this for free.

There would be some sort of catch that I wasn't going to be prepared for.

Wren laughed again and this time I knew it had to have been at me.

"What?" I hissed.

"It's just funny, that's all," Wren replied, laughing again.

"What is?"

I didn't know if I even wanted the answer to that.

"You," he said.

"I just thought you were this tough guy but here you are shaking in my car. I guess that was just what you pretended to be."

"What the hell are you even talking about?"

"You acted all tough when you were trying to beat up my brother every chance you got," Wren responded, his voice as smooth and low as ever but now it had an edge to it.

"If you're going to do something to me to get back at me for what I did to Fox then just do it," I spat, halting my leg.

"Get it over with."

"Oh, I'm not going to do anything to you," Wren nonchalantly replied.

"It seems like you punish yourself enough and that's good enough for me."

"Then why are you bringing it up?"

"Because if I need to rely on you punishing yourself for it, then you need to be reminded of it," Wren said, the traffic breaking a bit so he could pick up speed.

"I had a tough time reading you before but I think I've got you figured out now."

So that's what this was.

He only offered me a ride to figure me out.

Maybe that meant that was all he wanted, and he wouldn't be looking for me to do him any favors.

"How can you have me figured out when I don't even have myself figured out?" I hadn't meant to ask that out loud but the thought had slipped out of my mouth like words did when I was intoxicated.

"That's how I know I'm right about you," Wren told me, taking one hand off the steering wheel to rest it on the center console.

"You're incredibly insecure, unsure of yourself and your future and that scares you."

I hated how right he was and that he could see right through me.

Not only that but he was nearly impossible to read or I just wasn't as perceptive as him.

"You use anger as an outlet for your emotions," Wren continued.

"Because anger is secondary. It's all the other emotions you feel that make you angry. I don't really see you as an angry person necessarily, it's just that anger is easier to deal with than everything else."

I let out a huff.

"Can you stop analyzing me? I liked it better when we weren't talking."

"So, you're going to deprive me of my book and my words?" he asked with faux astonishment.

"Just turn your fucking book back on then."

And he did and I wouldn't admit to him or myself that I was actually paying attention to the words and getting interested.

We eventually made it through all the traffic and once we were back in town, Wren paused his book so I could give him directions to the Hanson's house.

When he pulled up to the curb outside the house, I tried to immediately make my exit but Wren grabbed my arm and held me in place, his touch was paralyzing.

"Give me your cell-phone," Wren said, nodding toward the device I held in my hand.

I made no move to give it to him, so he rolled his eyes and yanked it out of my hand.

"What are you doing...?"

"Here," he said, shoving the phone back into my hand.

"Text me if you need a ride home Sunday. I don't answer phone calls."

"Not gonna happen," I muttered, pulling my bag up from the backseat.

"You can say thank you at any time."

With that, I flipped him off and got out of the car, slamming the door behind me.

[a-glimpse-of-fantasy]

DUSKWOOD THE HEIST - CHAPTER 29

English is not my first language, so please spare me for grammar mistakes. 🙏

I'm not very confidant about this chapter tbh. My head kinda keeps being numb & empty 😣

The Heist Master list

Previous chapter

Chapter 29

"We could get the flight list with your name on it and showing you board it and then sneak you off,"

But it's trickier than it seems to pretend to be dead. It’s almost impossible; especially in this era. Simply sneaking Mark out of the plane would not satisfy anyone’s doubts. Simply blowing off his private plane won’t get anything done. I gulp, unable to let out the seemingly possible next option.

Breaking the heavy silence, something completely unexpected escapes from MC’s lips. Never in a million years did I imagine, my little genius could utter such words.

“I guess we have no choice but to use a dummy instead of you, no matter how I imagine,” MC says, thoughtfully tapping her chin with her index finger.

Did I get that right? Did she mean we should kill someone else in Mark’s place?

I feel like I’m slowly turning her into a monster…a monster akin to me.

Mark draws a devilish smirk at her words. Aha! You’ve got a nice catch there, Jake! His face seems to say.

If only I could wipe away the existence of this guy…

In another minute, MC puts her hand on my thigh, “By the way, wouldn’t they be suspicious if we stay here for too long?” Then she turns to Mark, then shrugging her arms, “Surely they’d think we got caught or switched sides.”

Right. The most important thing right now is to get out of this place first.

Whether we’re working with you or the FBI…let’s see after that, you bastard.

Soon, Mark nodded along. “That’s true indeed. I see that you need to sneak out of here first.” He stood up, “Still, we need to discuss our next steps before you do.”

“Right.”

***

Jake and Mark continued the discussion (Somehow that bastard, Mark didn’t want me joining in. Is that gender discrimination?) while I… I kept contemplating whether I should tell the truth. Still, I can’t imagine how Jake would react to it.

Then we were both sneaked into a lorry full of…well, onions. Is this that bastard’s way of bullying us? It stinks! Where the hell did these freaking onions come from even?!

And now, here we are. On a country road, a dense forest on either side. (We were dumped here) For god’s sake, it will take months to find our bodies even if that Mark bastard shoots us and shove our bodies into the woods.

Is it my imagination? Jake seems a little…no okay, VERY angry. He already contacted Kyle and we are waiting for him, while we smell like… onions. We are sitting by the road, in silence.

I think now is the time.

“Um…Jake?” He turns to face me, and I gulp. Should I just say it’s nothing?

“Actually…there’s something I didn’t tell you…before going to the farm…” The latter of the words blurring, I avoid his gaze sneakily.

Jake frowns a little, “What is it MC?”

I clench my fists, “The thing is…your relationship to Mark..” Upon hearing those words, his face visibly contorted. I close my eyes tight, “I already knew about that.”

“What?”

I open my eyes slowly, to see Jake, whose face is full of confusion.

“You know…that day when we argued about me going to the farm and all? That night, while you were working on something I got Kyle to talk.”

Jake clenches his jaw, deeply sighing. I’m so sorry, Kyle! I didn’t mean to betray you either.

“Well, at first I just needed some assurance. I get it that you trust him and all, but…Kyle said his mother was killed and his sister was in a coma. I couldn’t leave out the possibility of Kyle being blackmailed using his sister. Because, if I was Mark, I’d definitely consider that option to corner you.”

He chuckles, taking my left hand into his. “I should’ve seen that coming.”

I nod, “So what happened was…”

-FLASHBACK-

“ I apologize if you’re offended but I need to know.”

“What is it?” Kyle looks up from the laptop screen, raising his brows.

“Before that, can we talk right now? I mean, it’s okay if you’re busy. We can talk later…possibly.” I fidget a little, honestly, I’m not sure if we’d get another chance before going to the farm. Jake is slumped with work, and won’t care to look for me right now.

This is the perfect chance.

Kyle shakes his head, “No. Now’s a good time.”

I nod, then proceed to sit on the chair in front of him. “I can’t be hundred percent sure, but I felt like you had something to tell me.” He widens his green eyes, then avoids mine.

“Is it…concerning your sister maybe?”

He looks up again, sighing. “Before that, let me ask you a question. What is our relationship to Master according to Jake?”

I raise an eyebrow, a little confused but answer anyway. “That you two are college friends and Master was your immediate supervisor at your first job?”

“Pfft. Seriously? Then how did we get involved in this mess?”

I feel it, I am getting annoyed. Still, I won’t get another chance for this. “That bastard was a vigilante or something and Jake was tricked into helping his illegal stuff. You refused but you suddenly warned him of the bastard then disappeared.” Forgive me for continuously calling someone’s child, a bastard. Sorry but not sorry, I simply have no heart to call that bastard ‘Master’. “Then he was framed by the bastard.”

He smirks, leaning over the chair. “Honestly tell me, you don’t buy that, right?” To which I just shrugged. Yeah. I don’t buy it. Why? Because Jake isn’t stupid enough not to see the consequences of his actions. For god, he wasn’t a f*cking six-year-old!

“Your hunch is somewhat right, I’d say. My sister was captured by Master. But, I’m not being blackmailed…At least for now. I guess he is assuming I’d lay low.”

I cross my arms across my chest, leaning over the backrest. “Then that means, by helping us, you’re putting her life in danger. Why are you doing this instead of licking his boots?”

Kyle sighed, deeply before closing his eyes for a moment. Then opening his eyes, he leaned forward. “You saw it coming too, right? Master always sees a few steps ahead. The truth is, tomorrow is a trap. A trap set for you and Jake.”

I bite my lower lip, I can taste the metallic taste of blood. “But there’s one thing we can be sure of. My involvement in this is something Master won’t see beforehand.”

“Let me guess, is your sister perhaps kept on the farm?”

He nodded, grinning. “Yes. The real goal for tomorrow is, you two saving your ass from his grasp while I, I’ll save my sister.”

“We are to buy time for you so you can save your sister...” While he nods, I frown. “And for what reason do we have to risk our lives for your sister?” Kyle sucked a sharp breath, “I swear miss Davis, If you help me with that, I’ll do anything. ANYTHING. Master won’t kill you two. No. If he wanted to, you’d be dead already. I suppose he has another motive.”

My heart races, “That means, we have no exit in this game other than going to the farm tomorrow. Because everything is a play, and that bastard is the screenwriter.”

“Yes. That’s why we have to take him by surprise with a plot twist.”

Ha ha ha! I see that weird twelve-headed creature has finally gone crazy! F*ck you!

“But why aren’t you telling this to Jake instead of me?”

He shrugs with a smug face, “He has gone crazy, that’s why.”

I scoff before staring into his eyes directly, “Then tell me this, then I’ll consider what to do next. What are you two’s REAL relationship to that bastard?”

-To be Continued.

[heyhihellowhatsup0]

Hooked On Your Feelings - Chapter Two (FWB! Tom Holland x Reader)

SERIES MASTERLIST

Warnings: Some angst, language, eventual smut in future chapters, fluff

Word Count: 5255

Summary: After a bad breakup, making an agreement with your womanizing neighbor, Tom to be friends with added benefits and no strings attached seemed like the perfect idea. Until things become messy, emotions caused your agreement to crumble.

A/N:  I am HYPE to post this new chapter! Omg I just love writing this series so much its so fun writing Tom like this lol. Also low key...this chapter has an easter egg to a pervious series of mine and I’m v curious if anyone catches it but probably not because its superrr tiny but either way I hope you guys like this one! Obviously, smut is in this chapter! DM me to be tagged and I cannot wait to hear everyone’s thoughts! (Also .gif is not mine. DM me for credit please, I found on google!) Thank you xx -N

“What happened to that girl you took home the other night from The Lace Rabbit?” Harrison asked as he ordered his lunch before he took a seat at the table with Tom. It was typical for them to meet up during the week on their lunch breaks and catch up when they were not busy being wingmen for the other while bar hopping on the weekends. 

Tom shrugged off Harrison’s question as he took a bite of his sandwich, “She got a little clingy so I had Y/N help me get rid of her,” he smiled as he said your name out loud. His friends knew of you as the hot girl who lived next door who bailed him out of sticky situations. Always teasing Tom how he could never actually get you. The irony made it all too funny for him, “How’d it go with that blonde girl?” he asked to change the subject off of him.

He didn’t know if he should bring up the two of you sleeping together with Harrison. Harrison was his best friend and wouldn’t judge but he knew he’d give Tom shit for it. He’d want to know details of your arrangement or how it came about, if you were really that good and Tom didn’t feel comfortable answering that. Not if it was about you. He didn’t want his other friends knowing about you in the way he did. That was personal between you both and he wanted to show you he respected you.

“It didn’t,” Harrison admitted while taking a sip of his water. He let out a chuckle as he felt himself blushing, “Forgot her name and she spilt her drink on me. Can’t say I didn’t deserve that one,” he at least knew when he was in the wrong.

Tom cringed into his sandwich as he let out a cackle, “You definitely deserved it, mate,” he laughed with another bite. His phone vibrated in his pocket but he chose to ignore it, knowing like clock work what it probably was. It was going to ruin the rest of his day and he at least wanted to enjoy lunch with his friend before getting pissed off for the day.

“She’d probably love you,” Harrison teased. 

“Fuck off,” Tom rolled his eyes with a laugh. “I’m not taking your angry seconds.”

“Don’t knock angry sex til you try it,” Harrison smirked knowingly. 

Tom shook his head as he once again ignored the phone ringing, “I think I’m good, thanks,” he brushed it off with another eyeroll. 

He didn’t know why he suddenly felt weird talking about their last venture out at the club. Maybe it was because Tom knew where he ended up after that girl had left and he knew what that meant for the both of you. But Tom wasn’t done with his bachelor days, and even you knew that. Hell, you practically insisted since this was a no strings attached deal.

It just felt strange not telling Harrison about you. Like it was a weird secret. But at the same time, he felt oddly protective of you. Not wanting his friends to see you as some girl he was getting laid with. Or worse, a potential love interest. He knew it wasn’t going to happen. Hell would be freezing over before Tom decided on any sort of long term obligation. But he knew his friends and he knew they wouldn’t see this is a simple agreement between two friends. And he didn’t want to deal with that conversation.

Staying quiet was the better option. For his own sanity. And...well, would you care if he told anyone about this? Tom figured that was another rule he’d have to ask about. He didn’t want to overstep any boundaries and he knew you had a list of rules as well that he was happy to follow. As long as that meant one thing and one thing only: non-exclusive.

Harrison noticed Tom’s phone buzzing for the third time. And Tom ignored it for the third time. He checked the message with a huff of his breath before turning the screen face down on the table, going back to his lunch before he had to get back to work.

“Clingy girl?” Harrison nodded towards Tom’s phone. 

Tom shook his head, “My mother was supposed to visit this weekend but you know the routine,” he mumbled into his food, not even wanting to respond to her.

“Let me guess,” Harrison began, knowing exactly where this was going since he knew Tom’s whole story inside and out. Including the bits he hated to discuss which was mainly his family, “Going skiing with Clint in Veil instead?” he questioned knowingly.

Tom scoffed out a laugh at his guess, “Surfing with Clint in Malibu but same shit,” he corrected as he tried not to let it get to him. But even Harrison could tell he was getting bothered by it once again and who could honestly blame him.

 Always the same story every time no matter what and Tom grew tired of her antics. He couldn’t even blame Clint for it anymore considering she’d been this way since he was a kid before he was even in the picture. Only now she would just use him as the perfect excuse to get out of coming to visit.

He knew he shouldn’t care anymore but he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t something easy for him to simply let go of. It was his mother. And no matter how many times he’d try she would always give him back the bare minimum and it always made him upset. She was his one final connection to him and she could care less about any of it, so why did Tom? It always got under his skin and he loathed that it did.

But he would still invite her. No matter how miserable it made him.

“Well at least now you’re free this weekend,” Harrison broke his thought while he gathered their garbage before they headed back to work, “The usual at The Lace Rabbit this Saturday then?” he suggested with a knowing smile to try and get Tom out of his mood.

Grabbing his phone, Tom clutched it tightly as he inhaled sharply. Knowing his change of plans meant doing his normal routine even though he was looking forward to the slight change this weekend, which now just seemed bleak to him

.

“Yeah,” Tom agreed as he tapped your name on his phone but hesitated when he saw his mother trying to call for a fourth time, “The usual this weekend.”

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Your chest tensed as you got into your car after your extremely long day in the office. Everything around you felt heavy and you couldn’t wait to get home as soon as you could but you found yourself still frozen in your car. Unable to move as the moments from earlier this afternoon invaded your thoughts once again while you tried your best to move in. Even though you knew you were completely grief stricken and didn’t know what the hell to do.

The promotion was yours, at least you had thought it was by the way your boss would constantly hint at it. You knew it was never a definite thing, but you were confident in the hard work you had put into your job and knew you were a top contender for the spot. You worked longer hours, took on extra tasks, you even worked on the occasional weekend to get your work done. Taking every precaution necessary to prove that you were the best fit for the role.

Everything felt like it was lining up for you. Co-workers were giving you a pat on the back for your work accomplishments, your boss was taking note of everything you were doing, and you overall felt really good about where you stood for the potential position. So imagine your surprise when you attended the big luncheon and your boss announced his undeserving son was getting the spot instead of you.

It was both nepotism and misogyny rolled into one and it made your stomach turn the longer you had thought about it. None of it made any sense and it was far from fair. You knew you were the one more deserving of the position, the whole office knew it. Even your damn boss knew but he chose his damn son over you and it felt like a stab right to your gut.

You felt so betrayed and beside yourself as you finally decided to head home. Tears streamed down your cheeks while you tried to focus on the road but you just couldn’t ignore the facts. How were you going to be able to show up and take orders now from your boss’ son? You knew the job more than he did and it felt like a huge screw you.

On your drive home, you tried to make yourself feel better by putting on some music to distract yourself but nothing helped. You felt beyond defeated and frustrated right now you didn’t know what was going to make you feel better at the moment. It felt like the world was against you. Between finding Justin with another woman and your job, you were really batting one thousand lately and you weren’t sure when you would catch a break.

Things were not going how you planned at all. The thought of just quitting your job and starting all over again crossed your mind but the fear of the unknown kept haunting you. You didn’t know which direction to go in or who to turn to for advice anymore. You were slowly drowning and you needed someone to throw you a goddamn life jacket already.

You were relieved to finally be home. Maybe some peace and quiet would make you feel a little better, you thought to yourself while you kicked your shoes off and turned some music on for yourself. Trying to put the day behind you and focus on the present moment while you got changed into more comfortable clothes to unwind.

You jumped out of your skin when you heard a knock at your door, not expecting anybody to come by right now. Pulling your hair up into a bun, you headed back towards the door and looked through the peephole. To your surprise, you weren’t really surprised at all. You were actually sort of relieved when you opened the door and saw Tom standing there holding a pizza box.

“That better have extra cheese,” you asked with a narrowed expression while you invited him inside with the pizza that he would always bring you even in normal times. 

Placing the box on the kitchen table, Tom opened it with a grin as he showed you the pizza pie with cheese practically oozing from the crusts, “Figured it was an extra toppings sort of day,” he admitted, knowing he really needed the escape from reality. Even if it was just a pizza.

“Tell me about it,” you sighed as you grabbed a piece closest to you as Tom handed you a paper plate. You headed over towards your refrigerator to grab you both a few beers while Tom leaned up against your kitchen counter as he devoured his slice, “I’m guessing you had a bad day judging by your pizza presentation?” knowing there wasn’t really any particular reason he’d be coming over with it today. Unless if he wanted something?

You slowed your pace back from the fridge wondering if he was going to pick up on how you were feeling. You weren’t entirely sure if you wanted him to notice. Whenever you and Tom had a pizza night it was merely to gossip about your lunatic neighbors or watch a game together. You talked about casual things but never really gone into depth or prying into each other’s lives. Why did it feel like suddenly you wanted something different? Would sex change that much in your friendship?

“We can just ignore that...we don’t have to talk about unimportant stuff,” you waved it off. Tom didn’t need to hear about your miserable day. And you didn’t want to pry into his. 

He swallowed the last bite of his slice, “If something makes you upset, it’s not unimportant,” he noted. But when he noticed you just looking at him, he raised his hands in surrender. “Ignore my philosophical ass. But I’d like to hear about your day, you know,” he laughed it off. 

What the hell was he doing? He thought to himself. Don’t let personal shit ruin this. Enjoy her company. That’s it. 

“I didn’t get the promotion,” you told him. You had mentioned to Tom a while ago that your boss was hinting at it but you never went into detail with him about it. You weren’t used to Tom actually wanting to be open or the other way around. And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t slightly surprised Tom even gave a crap about stuff like this. 

Tom frowned at your answer and he felt his heart sink a bit when you told him the truth about your bad day. He didn’t know much about your job but he was sure you were a hard worker. He saw how much you loved your job and how passionate you were about it when it would come up. You would share upcoming projects with him from time to time and he would see the look on your face whenever you explained them to him. So hearing that you were passed by for a promotion was upsetting to him.

“I...shit, Y/N,” he put his pizza down as he walked over towards to give you a hug. Sliding his hands around your waist he pulled you into him as he felt you relax against his chest, “You didn’t deserve that,” he added softly.

You allowed Tom to embrace you, his warmness comforting you a bit before you pulled away and started crying when telling him about your boss’ son getting the job instead of you. Making you laugh by calling him every name in the book, you and Tom finally found a common ground as you kept venting to him.

Tom pulled away slowly, his hand resting at your chin while he licked his lips, “You’re boss sounds like a fucking prick, I hope you know that,” he told you reassuringly. The small smile you formed when he spoke made him want to keep making you feel better, “I’m glad you’re smiling,” he blushed at his confession.

Stretching your mouth wider, you flashed Tom a playful yet overly wide grin to deflect the attention he gave to you. The two of you laughed as Tom pulled away with a loud chuckle, shaking his head at your sudden silliness, “That has to be the most hideous smile. But we’ll work on it,” he told you through his laughter.

You rolled your eyes before going back to your pizza, giving Tom a look as you nudged him, “Not gonna tell me about what happened to you?” you finally asked.

Tom tensed as he tried to brush it off with a simple shrug into his pizza. The thought of his mother’s texts and ridiculous apologies and excuses continued to drive him crazy as he mumbled into his bite, “It’s stupid shit,” he told you as he swallowed the crust he was chewing, “Mom stuff, not important,” he added bluntly.

You could see the look on his face and could tell it was important to him but you didn’t want to force him to talk about it. Tom was never one to bring up his family ever to you and that was the first time you had ever heard him even mention his mother. He never spoke of his father, at least to you, so you just assumed both were out of his life for whatever reason and it was none of your business to ask.

 And Tom refused to admit it but he wanted you to ask about him. Spending hours upon hours at bars, turning his focus always onto the girl; because he knew no girl would ever want to go home with a self righteous, egotistical guy. It was never something Tom minded to do, especially with complete strangers who he would never open up to in a million years. It might have been the recent development he had with you but there was something refreshing he felt around you and as much as it freaked him out, he didn’t seem to mind.

But diving into his mommy issues with you now seemed too much to deal with right now. You were dealing with more than enough problems with your job and your miserable ex-boyfriend, he figured you didn’t need to hear his bitching right now anyway. He came here to get away from those shitty thoughts, not open those wounds further. 

Tom came here for a distraction.

Licking his lips, Tom perked up as he looked at you fervidly, “Wanna have sex?” he asked matter of factly. He figured he didn’t need to beat around the bush since you had your arrangement but maybe he was a bit too direct with his request. Tom cleared his throat as he tried to save the night, “I-I mean, I just figured since we both had shitty days that maybe we could uhm-”

“Thought you’d never ask,” you cut him off with a smirk and you perked up as well, nodding as you smoothed out your hair. Standing back up as you turned your back towards him, removing your shirt in the process, “Let’s go,” you called over your shoulder as you headed towards your room.

“Oh, we’re jumping right in,” Tom mumbled to himself as he practically fell off his chair to follow you into your room, tossing his shirt beside yours as he practically froze already seeing you completely undressed, “Christ…” he breathed out while taking you in. 

You rolled your eyes as you walked over to him, bringing your lips to his now bare shoulder, “You’re really acting like you haven’t seen me like this the other day?” You laughed against his skin while you began to suck a bruise against him, hearing him let out a gasp while your hand snaked into his pants sneakily, “Beginning to really like this whole friends with benefits thing we have,” you laughed as you found Tom’s lips.

Practically growling into your kiss, Tom lifted you up and lowered you onto your back on your bed. His lips traveled from yours, to your stomach, dipping his tongue into your belly button as you moaned quietly before he brought himself down between your thighs. His lips peppering your inner thigh before he got straight to the point because this whole arrangement meant no foreplay. Another plus for Tom.

“Darling, I think you may be the best friend I’ve ever had,” Tom breathed out a laugh as he pressed his tongue flatly against your clit. Sliding two of his fingers into your core while he slowly pumped in and out of you, “This is what got me through my day today,” he told you before he brought his mouth back to your core.

You arched your back while your fingers went towards Tom’s curls. His name began to fall from your lips while he lapped his tongue carefully, letting it slip inside of you as he continued to tease you with his mouth. His fingers sliding into you again, adding a third as he moaned against your center; allowing the vibrations to roll throughout your entire body.

“Mmm, oh, fuck...!” you cried out, yanking gently against Tom’s hair as you felt the coil beginning to burn from inside of you. Biting your lip to stifle another moan, “Fuck...yo-you’re really good at that,” you breathed out with a small laugh which turned into a whimper.

With his head peering up at you, Tom flashed you a cocky smile with a playful wink as he licked your folds teasingly, “Did you seriously doubt my abilities to make you cum with my mouth, Y/N?” he raised his eyebrow while pumping his fingers now tantalizingly slow, “You’re gonna pay for that comment,” he said to you.

“Just...shut up and make me cum, Tom,” you told him through another gasp as you felt his teeth drag teasingly against your already throbbing bud. His lips wrapped around it as he sucked more harshly, doing exactly as you had asked him to do, “Ungh...oh god, okay. Yeah, keep doing that,” you instructed as you began to grind your hips against his mouth.

Tom took it as a challenge and picked up his pace, beginning to flick your clit faster while he continuously sucked on it. His three fingers now entirely coated in your warmth as he felt you clenching around them. His pants feeling tighter from his hard on while he knelt at the end of your bed trying to bring you to where he wanted.

His free hand splayed against your stomach, holding you in place while he felt you trying to squirm around from the way he was making you feel. Rubbing your clit in between his breaths, Tom looked up at you as he licked a solid stripe down your center, “Let out how you’re feeling from today and cum for me, Y/N,” Tom commanded. 

Your eyes shut as you did exactly what Tom had suggested. Completely coming undone from beneath him while you released as much of the tension from earlier as you possibly could but in the most amazing way. Your eyes rolled back into your head while your back arched as Tom’s tongue continued to work you up while you were at your highest point.

Letting out a breathy laugh as you started to come down from it, feeling Tom begin to kiss his way back up your stomach with a smug look, “Don’t give me that look,” you rolled your eyes at his cockiness as his tongue traced along your neck, “I could do what you just did to myself, you know,” you tried to knock him off his high horse a bit while he pretended to be wounded from your words.

“Ah, but you didn’t. Did you?” Tom reminded you as his lips found yours. His hands still in between your thighs as he brought them between you both, showing you his coated fingers while he tasted you off of them, “Tastes like I made you cum because you wanted me to,” his smugness only elevated as he pushed himself off of you as he laid on his back on your bed.

“Need I remind you that you came to my place like a porno with a pizza looking to get laid,” you retaliated as you shifted so you were now hovering over him. Your hands guiding towards his belt buckle to get him out of his restraintive pants. The pleading look on his face made you just as smug, “Sounds like you want me to do just about the same thing, am I right or am I right?” you sang in his ear.

Tom helped you get the rest of his pants and boxers off, feeling himself spring out as he stared back at you with uncertainty, “Did you...just call me a porn star?” he questioned as the two of you let out a laugh.

“You wish, Tommy,” you teased as you ran your tongue down his abs, placing small and open kisses against his stomach as you made your way down to his legs while your hand carefully gripped his hardened length, your thumb running the pre-cum around his tip while you already heard him gasping for you.

Gripping your bedsheets with one hand, Tom reached around to create a makeshift ponytail to hold your hair. Cussing under his breath as he watched your mouth wrap around his tip, swirling your tongue around it while your eyes searched for his. He was really trying to hold it together but you were already driving him crazy.

“Let’s see what you got, Y/N,” Tom challenged you with a heavy breath as he tightened his grip around your hair, “Sometimes, girls think they know exactly what to do but-OH FUCK!” 

His words were lost as soon as your mouth went straight down to his base. Suctioning as hard as you could before coming back up his cock painfully slow. Moaning your name as his chest began to heave, Tom felt his thighs start to quiver from under you. Even just watching the way you were working on him was enough to make him whimper right now.

“Fuck...okay, yeah I take that back,” Tom gasped as his nose crinkled up while his other hand white knuckled the sheets, “God, your mouth is fucking perfect. Why haven’t we done any of this shit before?” he was in such a fucked out haze, he wasn’t even sure if anything he was saying made any sense at all. But he felt his stress from earlier going away finally. Even if this was just a short state of bliss, he was grateful for it anyway.

“You really want me to answer that or would you just prefer me to keep sucking your dick?” you sassed while you kitten licked his tip. You watched from the end of the bed as Tom bucked his hips into your mouth to try and get more contact from your lips but you pulled away from him and just kept licking his tip.

God, you were good, Tom thought to himself.

‘K-keep going,” Tom finally breathed out, flinging his head against the pillow to brace for the impact.

Hollowing your cheeks, you pushed yourself all the way down his cock. Your tongue flicking the base in between as you began to feel him throb inside of your mouth. You could tell he was close so you moaned softly into his cock, watching as Tom shuddered from the sensation you just sent through him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Tom cried out, moaning your name as he rutted his hips into your mouth. His pupils blacked as he felt the heat rising in his body, “Shit...I’m gonna cum, Y/N,” he warned as you pulled away, running your hand down his shaft as he began to come undone for you.

His warmth spilled out into your hand and down his cock while he let go finally. The stress somewhat leaving his body as it did yours while the euphoric high peaked for him. Your lips crashed against his while his tongue parted your lips to find yours, tangling them together as he moaned against your mouth while riding out his high finally.

You waited for Tom to catch his breath before you smiled against his lips, placing a small peck against them as you pulled away with an even bigger grin, “Yeah, you’re welcome,” you gave him the same arrogant tone he gave to you moments earlier before you pecked his lips again.

After taking some time to get yourselves together mixed with the continuous fooling around underneath the sheets, you and Tom finally decided to get up and end the night. Even though he didn’t want to leave, he knew he probably shouldn’t overstay. Primarily, Tom was adamant about never spending the night at a girl’s place that he slept with. That made things complicated and he didn’t want complicated. But since you and him had rules to not make things messy, he wasn’t sure if that applied to you. For now, he wanted to play it safe so he got himself dressed again.

You pulled on an oversized t-shirt, realizing both of your hair looked a mess. Luckily you were already home and Tom was down the hall so it didn’t really matter. You wanted to say something to Tom, that you were thankful he came by tonight. You were thankful even before sex was on the table. It felt nice to have him as an ally to swing by with a pizza when he didn’t even know you needed that.

“...is it weird to say I’m glad you came by?” you gestured towards your bedroom while you walked with him out into the kitchen where the half eaten pizza was left, “I know we haven’t really made too many rules about it but…” you trailed off with a nervous laugh as you smiled at him awkwardly.

“Like we said, zero weirdness,” Tom reminded you as he padded his way over to you. He grabbed a leftover crust from the box and shoved it in his mouth, clearly starving already from the workout you had just given him. He smiled while he chewed lazily, his mouth still filled with pizza crumbs, “But I’m happy to come by when we have shit days...and make you cum as well,” he smirked deviously. 

The door opened as you smiled back, “Doesn’t have to be just bad days, you know. We could...screw whenever we feel like it,” you told him, hoping that it wasn’t too much.

“Did you just say screw?” he whipped his head towards you with a loud laugh.

“Alright then, I guess I’ll just leave you to the girls who leave you unsatisfied then,” you fought back.

Tom leaned against the door with his mouth gaped open, “They do not...leave me...unsatisfied?” he questioned himself, knowing that that was true, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

“Then why are you here?” you placed a hand on your hip, feeling the smile pulling at your lips while you messed around with him. You certainly weren’t in this mood earlier before Tom came around.

Pressing his lips together, Tom rolled his eye at you, “Fine...we can screw...whenever,” he leaned in closer to you with his eyes big as he mimicked your voice when you said it, “As long as we keep this thing strictly what we intended, you can use me whenever you need, Y/N,” and he meant it.

You didn’t back away when he sealed his words with a soft kiss, paired with his trademark grin. Tom pulled away slowly, taking in the moment as he wished you a goodnight quietly before kissing you against the cheek, “Like I said, best friend I ever had,” he said softly once again.

“Am I interrupting something?” A voice broke from behind the two of you. Both of your eyes widened towards each other as you both simultaneously pivoted your heads towards the staircase where the voice was coming from.

Tom closed his eyes with a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to ignore Harrison staring at the two of you with a crooked grin. Making it known to Tom that explaining this was going to be a lot tougher than he had imagined.

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[alvfr]

Bittersweet Hotch

Gif by the lovely @dudeitiskarev​ 

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x F!Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+, minors DNI Words: 3.9K (look at me writing something shorter than 15k, huh?) Warning: Semi-public sex. Anal play (fem receiving). Love. Description: A short version of Hotch's POV from Chapter 1 of Bittersweet ("Accidents" Part 5). Link to the full series in my masterlist - will probably make most sense if you’ve read those first 💕

(Warning: Very NSFW below the cut! 18+)

Bittersweet Hotch 

There were a lot of reasons why Aaron loved you.

The bigger things, of course, such as your intelligence, your sharp humor, and your heart. Your unbridled compassion for the whole world, however undeserving at times, where Aaron occasionally filed himself in the latter category. Just occasionally though, not all the time anymore. Not after you had made it so blatantly clear how good you thought he was and he found himself striving to live up to those expectations. Surprisingly, it worked.

So yes, the bigger things were almost self-explanatory for why he loved you. Why anyone would love you, really, if they got the chance. Then there were all the little things. Small drops accumulating all the time, like water on a mountainside patiently eroding the seemingly impenetrable rock. One drop after the other until the dam broke and Aaron finally realized he loved you, even if he had done it for some time already. How you hummed to yourself if you thought no one was around, how you always stretched right after waking up, and how you lit up at the sight of him without noticing it yourself.

It was subtle, of course, especially when you were at work. But after Morgan had deftly pointed it out to Aaron — who had asked how the infamous bet started — it was impossible to ignore. He could see how other people on the team had picked up on it. It sometimes made it unbearable to maintain the rigid professionalism you had agreed on at work because now Aaron noticed it all the time. Whenever you walked into a room, you would seek him out first. A small glance, maybe a split second at most, but always there. At home, in more relaxed surroundings, you dropped your guard down further and he could see how your pupils dilated when you caught his eye. And lately, you got that small smile on your lips too, a smile that had Aaron convinced he would do absolutely anything for you.

It was that smile of yours that had made him bold enough to say those three words for the first time back at his kitchen. After that unsub clocked you with a two-by-four and Aaron had to physically restrain himself from beating up a local SWAT officer. Your reaction to those three words had not been as he hoped for, at least not at first, but it had improved quickly. He had come to realize that although you were — like him — keenly intelligent and —also like him — profiled people for a living, you were just as stupid as he was when it came to love. Just as human and vulnerable. There was something incredibly reassuring about that and in all honesty, it just made him love you more.

It meant he had to work harder though, to make you realize how serious he was about this. About this relationship, about you. This promotion they offered you, the one that forced him to squash down his selfish desires to keep you close at all times, was a good thing. It was good for you, and where he had let Haley play the second fiddle in favor of his career and his goals, he was not going to subject you to the same. He could be supportive — he wanted to be supportive — and if that meant sacrifices on his part, so be it. Hopefully, you’d realize he was serious about both this relationship, but also that he took you seriously. As a person, a partner, and a profiler.

The forced hierarchy from your jobs should not and would not seep into any other areas of your lives together.

All of these things had been clear in his mind when you stormed into his office earlier, kicking the door shut, and demanding answers. He loved that about you too. How brazen you could be and that you were comfortable enough around him now to be brazen, even here. Time had gone by quickly, but he could recall just like yesterday when he had held an impromptu performance review here in his office. When he had tried — in vain — to lay down some boundaries, but still found himself unable to say outright that this couldn’t happen. You and him? Impossible for so many reasons. The age difference, your jobs, his son — so many obstacles that had been swept away by those steady drops of water. Things he eventually forgot were obstacles at all unless someone pointed it out for him.

And as he watched you chew your bottom lip raw — so obviously conflicted about this offer and so obviously looking for some kind of permission from him to take it — he realized he would do anything for you. Maybe that was why it had happened? He certainly hadn’t planned it, but seeing your wet eyes after he asked you to move in — again, not the reaction he planned for — he had acted on instinct. Anything to turn that confusion into something simpler.

It started as a kiss. Just a simple gesture of affection and a physical distraction. And perhaps your boldness had rubbed off on him or all those whispered confessions how you fantasized about being bent over his desk played a part, but the next thing he knew, he had pushed his hand up the skirt of your dress. By then it was too late to back down. The way your breath hitched when his fingers brushed against the silken part of your inner thigh skipped through both ears and brain and lodged straight into his libido. And then that perfect mouth of yours had dropped open when he ran his finger against the thin material of your underwear. Using his trigger finger to carve out that well-defined slit marking the entrance to something downright holy — he couldn’t have stopped even if he wanted to, and despite your half-hearted pleas, you didn’t want him to stop either.

You hadn’t been wet to start with, but it took seconds before he felt the fabric dampen. Blood rushing to swell your lips and that tight bundle of nerves he loved to rub, suck, and bite when the occasion called for it. He thought he could tell the difference with each of your heartbeats and he’ll admit he got lost in the moment.

A calculated risk on many levels, but when you shuddered and tightened around his fingers — two of them pumping into you with sloppy wet sounds — he knew he would have come in his pants if he’d been twenty years younger. Sometimes he hated that he was noticeably older than you, other times he silently thought it gave him the opportunity to show you the sexual experiences you deserved. He had another kind of patience now than when he was young, another kind of appreciation for giving as well as receiving pleasure, and let’s face it, another kind of stamina. Not necessarily better, but different.

The sight of you fully dressed, knees knocking against his where he caged you in the chair, and with a glow to your cheeks would forever be burned into his retina. He’d never able to see anyone sit in that chair again without remembering this moment and he was unable to decide whether or not that was a good thing.

It was at least part of the reason why he stayed hard — rock hard, so uncomfortably strained against the stretchy materials of his boxers — even while driving to the city. Trying and wanting to make good on his offer for lunch. And he could smell the faintest wafts of your juices on his fingers and that didn’t help one bit. For a second he had been tempted to let you help him as you had offered — unzip and lean back as far as possible in the seat, pushing your head down and feeling the rasp of your teeth when he pushed too hard at one point. No. He had tried, he told himself, to make this about you. All about you.

There was still a limit to his willpower.

“Aaron,” you had said when the car was parked, the forest empty besides the two of you. As if nothing really existed outside the two of you. Your lips were swollen from his kiss where you leaned halfway over the console. Your eyes were heavy-lidded and focused on him, pinning him in place with your unbridled sincerity. “You just need to decide if you want me to suck your dick or not before you fuck me.”

It took less than a minute before he was shoving his dick into your wet and open cunt where you laid splayed over the passenger seat in the SUV. The door stood wide open to allow him access to you, with the chill of the Virginia forest whispering across the bare skin of his thighs and yours alike. Outdoors, in the middle of the day, when you both were supposed to be at work and not fucking like two teenagers at the end of a forest road. You with that fancy dress rucked up to your midriff, and him with his pants and boxers nestled around his ankles. He didn’t even bother stepping out of them, working with what he had and shoving himself into you through the car door.

The agent and the lawyer in him mumbled something vague about indecent exposure, but drowned out at the sight of you throwing your head back when he snapped his hips forward, your wet open lips pressed against and around him. You weren’t even worried. Another part he loved about you. Spontaneous, risk-taker, daredevil — call it whatever the hell you wanted, but he loved it. It. You. He loved you.

It always felt like the first time when he pushed into you, that heated way you almost sucked him in, squeezing around his dick like a tight fist. Pure velvet fire consuming his dick, and his fingers scrambled for hold, searching for those soft parts of your body that yielded to his grip. He could feel your insides tighten whenever he hit a particularly good point and he kept the pace brutal because you asked him to. At least he thought you did — you at least swore incessantly and it was hard to tell the fuck me’s from the ordinary fuck’s. You always swore like this when you didn’t have to be quiet — and sometimes even then — and it was all breathless and beautiful and he strived to give you everything you wanted. Everything he had.

He loved the way he could see your breasts bounce even under that tight dress he had all but tricked you into wearing today. And when you had to turn around, he loved the way your ass jiggled every time he thrust into you. He loved the way his fingers fit on your body, how pliant it was, somehow always making room for him — be it his fingers, his dick, or his tongue.

You made a spectacular sight and he didn’t know where to focus. On the faint reflection in the window on the other side where he could see your eyes tightly closed and mouth hanging open. On the curve of your waist, flaring up to your hips where his hands held you. On the ripple passing through your thighs and ass cheeks every time he went all in so his balls smacked against your undoubtedly swollen clit. Or on your puffy wet lips gripping around his dick in rhythm to his hips snapping forward, a clear mirror of how your other lips looked like when they locked around his cock.

His mind felt blank and he was aware he was saying something. Trying and failing to put his thoughts into words, mostly groaning your name and saying how beautiful you were over and over again. Because you were. Jesus Christ, you were. It was partially as a distraction for himself when he reached around to find your clit — two fingers, pulling the hood back a fraction so he could move better around it — because he wanted to fill you up now.

He wanted to pump you so full of his cum you’d feel it for the rest of the day. It was a little caveman-ish, but he was done trying to deny he loved seeing his white spend pool out of your hole. A claim, a mark, an undeniable sign of where he’d been. Of what you’d done together and how you’d let him use your pussy. The only thing that could compare was seeing it in your mouth, a small pearly shimmer of something that was his gliding over your tongue.

This distraction wasn’t working. Fuck. Aaron felt the drops of sweat run down his back — despite all his cardio, his dress shirts were tight and warm now with the brutal pace he’d set. God, you were exquisite. Knees spread wide on the seat, bottom of your ass resting on your ankles on either side of his thighs. Wide-open and fucking gorgeous. He wanted to make you come around his dick again. He needed to make you come around his dick again. To feel what only his fingers felt earlier, how you’d squeeze and pulsate and buck your hips to get deeper and more. Fuck.

His tie hung loosely over your back and occasionally censored you from his view. Breathing hard, Aaron flung it away and — acting on some kind of instinct or just pure debauchery — he pooled spit in his mouth and let it drop down so it hit that perfect little asshole of yours. You obviously felt it — he heard both a gasp and had to increase his grip so you wouldn’t fly right off his dick, but most of all he saw how you tightened and that little asshole became momentarily smaller. Fucking exquisite. He checked your reflection in the window, saw the full-on mask of pleasure, and more blood left his head to pump into his dick so he wondered if you would feel it thump inside of you.

He could debate how good of a distraction it was, but at least the sight of his spit running between your cheeks kept his focus from how his dick felt in your pussy. Aaron knew he was good at multi-tasking, but this was almost too much. Remembering to keep fingering your clit — aided by how you squirmed against his hand — and trying to keep a steady pace with his dick — again aided by how you also pushed back to meet his thrusts — and wetting his thumb thoroughly before gliding it over your asshole.

Worth it, he thought vaguely, based on those positively angelic sounds you made. Even with how you swore, it sounded like gospel. He barely remembered to ask if it was okay —if it was good, if this was accepted —so mesmerized at the sight. He had done this before — always carefully, always asking for permission — not really for any other reason that in some positions, it felt like your body offered it to him. And you liked it and where Aaron hadn’t had any particular fantasies about it before, it struck that caveman-gene in him again that this was another hole to fill with his cum. Another part of you to claim in the most depraved way possible.

Maybe down the line, but so far you had never gone further than what he did right now. Rubbing a slick finger around that tight little ring he couldn’t imagine fitting even his pinky inside. It took some willpower to let his hand follow the rhythm of your body — sometimes you pushed back against his dick so hard his finger would have poked into you whether you wanted it to or not — but he wanted this to be good for you. Needed this to be good for you.

But when you told him to fuck you, and rub your clit, and don’t stop, he wasn’t going to question it.

He groaned, mostly because of how you squeezed your pussy around his dick — again like a tight fist that you might as well have sucker-punched him with — as he pushed the very tip of his thumb into your ass. Tight. Hot. Only wet because of his spit, but based on your sounds, not exactly painful. He rubbed your clit harder, hoping to ease any discomfort there was or at least distract from it, and worked his thumb gently around. A vision of his thumb buried down to the hilt floated across his mind. Another way to grip you, using your ass as a balance hole to pull you back onto his dick, and he closed his eyes while involuntarily working your clit harder as if he could transfer some of his quickly approaching climax into you.

Another time, he reminded himself and tried to focus on your words. That didn’t help. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Aaron, please don’t stop. And in the same breath, you told him to come inside you — to fill you up — and that you were moving in with him and you wanted him to keep going and he couldn’t.

On your instructions, his thumb was inside to the first knuckle and he could feel himself now, could feel his dick where he was balls-deep inside of you. The further his thumb went in, the easier it got too, almost like you were sucking him in and he tried to remember to wiggle it around, loosening you up some, wanting this to feel good for you. But you were so tight and wet and you weren’t happy with how he’d slowed his pace on anything because you obviously wanted more.

He kept rubbing your wet little clit, almost on auto-pilot, but had to stop thrusting before he came before you. Did you have any idea of how good you felt? On his dick like this? Gushing wet and spread open and still so fucking tight? The slick sounds of his fingers on your clit drowned in your breathy pleas for him to keep going.

The words made it through the haze in Aaron’s mind, where all he could see was where the two of you were joined. Yes, he could do the fucking laundry. Yes, in his apartment. Yes, you were moving in. Yes, you were close to coming and you sounded so desperate he had to try. His wrist burned from circling your clit at the awkward angle, but he’d wear a wrist brace for the rest of the week if that meant feeling you lose yourself to a climax around him.

But he was so close. His balls tight and throbbing, bursting with cum he wanted to shoot inside of you. Wanted to watch it ooze out of your swollen glistening cunt afterward, use his fingers to push it back in, and then let you lick them clean. He wanted to do all of that. But not before you came first.

Almost holding his breath, he pulled his dick out with a lewd squelch, fighting to keep the rhythm on your clit even though you were squirming and swaying all over the place. Both of you were so close and you shoved your hips back to meet his next thrust, and your tight, tight asshole swallowed the rest of his thumb, and thank god that made you almost scream as you came because Aaron only lasted two — three — four more thrusts into your tight, tight pussy before he followed. He felt it in his whole body, the way the dam burst, and his nerve-endings exploded as he came.

The quiet forest engulfed his loud groan, the sound of your name in his chest, and your thin whimpers of unbridled pleasure. He desperately grabbed onto your hips to steady himself, keeping you from pulling away, wanting everything pumped into you. He halfway pulled back and buried himself all the way in again and grunted your name like he had traveled ten thousand years to the past and reduced to nothing but animal instincts. His balls pulsated, shooting string after string of cum into you, more than he would have expected. Hopefully enough. Filling you up to the brim, just like you’d fucking asked for, and enough to eventually run out of you to coat that expensive lace he’d bought today.

He clutched your hips like a lifeline — like you’d clutched that folder earlier today in his office — like your pussy clutched and milked his dick. He still twitched inside of you, still on the cusp of the orgasm, and he breathed hard to counteract the light-headedness. You were so perfect for him in every way, just so tight that he could feel his own cum coat around his dick in the limited space.

I love you, he thought and memorized every curve and line of your back, not enough breath in his lungs to say it just yet. Slowly coming down, he massaged your hips where he had left his marks yet again. Fingerprints dug into your skin in slight bruisings, ones you seemed to appreciate. You breathed equally hard as him, but looked at him over your shoulder, so flushed and gorgeous and deserving of the world.

I love you.

It was in your eyes, your smile, and often coming out your mouth too. Not right now as you only panted slightly, but you looked at him in a way that stole his breath away all over again.

I love you.

You had looked at him like that so many times before you said it for the first time, and Aaron knew you had held back. Patience. Trust. Understanding. It was in your every move and conversation with him. He didn’t know if he had earned it, but he hadn’t lied before of how grateful he was for it. Now it was his turn, he realized, to show you the same. To adapt to your schedule and your needs like you had done for him.

Like you were doing right now when the sound of his ring tone cut through the foggy aftermath of your orgasms. Not even hesitating, you reached out for his phone — Aaron swallowed a grunt when the movement pulled his dick from your gushing hole — and handed him both phone and some wet wipes. You had never tried to compete with either the job or Jack, and Aaron loved you for that too. Even if he deep-down knew he should have prioritized differently at times, you had made it so he didn’t have to. You had made everything so easy. Always, so easy, because apparently you felt he was worth it.

Try as he might, he couldn’t find anything but satisfaction in your eyes now either as you watched him try to listen to Garcia. If you kept this up, he might start to think he was worth it too.

He wanted to be worth it, he realized, watching the wicked glint in your eye when you sucked his fingers clean after the call ended. Wanted to have you and this and everything forever.

There were many reasons why Aaron loved you, but most of all because you had made him believe he could love again at all.

..

..

A/N: First time writing this "you"-style from Hotch's POV and looking for feedback. If it's confusing or if it’s unclear who’s POV it is. Also first time writing smut from a guy’s perspective and accepting feedback on that as well 🥰

As always, I strive to be inclusive of my reader-inserts, so please let me know if any descriptions or phrases needs changing.

Remember to reblog if you liked it! And that comments feed my creativity just as much as caffeine 💕

[muffinbeliever]

When the Stars Align [07]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Soulmate!Reader

Word Count: 4717

Warnings: language, sexual content, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), ANGST, but also cute date fluff, Lisa Braeden (yes this is a warning), crying, body insecurity

Summary: Soulmate!AU– Everyone has the first words their soulmate says to them tattooed on their wrists. You and your cat are living a normal life in Fort Collins, Colorado when three men come bursting through your door, completely changing your life. Reader-insert story. Starts around S06E08, but Sam has his soul, and it doesn’t really follow the series from there

A/N: HELLO !!!! i apologize for the delay my classes have been swamping me with work and i already had writers block but i finished this chapter like five minutes ago and i'm desperate to post it and see what you guys think ! please be sure to leave comments and likes as always <3

Masterlist | When the Stars Align Masterlist

Sunlight illuminated Dean’s face that you admired as you drove along the open road. The windows were down, a light breeze flowing through the car. Occasionally, Dean would catch you staring at him, but you didn’t mind and neither did he.

You giggled when you noticed a familiar neon sign and the red leather booths that peaked through the window, having been here only a couple of hours before.

“What?” Dean looked over at you, nervous as he didn’t know why you laughed. You shook your head, before replying.

“I just really like this place,” you said, refraining from telling him about your earlier excursion with Thomas, not wanting it to ruin the moment. He gave you a soft smile.

“I remember,” he said, his eyes shining with fondness, “You mentioned that you come here a lot when you were showing me around.” Your heart soared at the fact that he remembered the small detail.

He parked the car, before quickly getting out of the car, jogging over to your side to open the door before you could even register what had happened. He extended his arm and you giggled at his silliness before getting out of the car. He closed the door behind you, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back, gently leading you towards the diner.

There weren’t many people and you were grateful, hoping to have a quiet dinner with your soulmate and get to know him a bit better. He grabbed a booth snuggled against a corner of the room, gesturing you to sit down. You took one side of the table and he took the other side.

Two menus were placed on the table, and the dark-haired waitress flashed Dean a smile. She looked a couple of years older than you and her black jeans and tight shirt hugged her curves, her tied apron accentuating her slim waist. Her hair fell in gentle waves, framing her face in a way that yours never did.

“My name is Carmen, I’ll be serving you tonight,” she said directly to Dean. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, and you caught Dean glance at you.

“Can I start you off with anything to drink?” She asked, and Dean nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll have a Coke, please. Sweetheart, what about you?” He asked you kindly.

“A water, please,” you said to Carmen. Her eyes roamed your face and clothes, and she gave you a smirk.

“I’ll be right back with your drinks,” she said, winking at Dean before walking away, her hips swaying with each step. There was a familiar sinking feeling in your chest that reeked of self-doubt.

Who did you think you are? Bagging a guy like Dean Winchester? Obviously, you weren’t terrible to look at, but you sure as hell weren’t a head-turner. Guys didn’t double take when you passed by nor did they try to pursue you. The only exception was Thomas, and you were sure that it was more of a friendly attraction than romantic.

You picked up a menu, not even sparing Dean a glance, trying to focus on what you were going to eat. Despite having eaten here many times, you were surprised at the selection they offered. Most times, you got a salad, sometimes switching it up with a burger, but the prospect of a pastrami sandwich sounded especially inviting tonight. You were debating ordering the pastrami, but decided that it probably wouldn’t look very attractive to eat. Besides, you were already self-conscious about your body, might as well try to eat healthily. Out of the corner or your eye, you saw Carmen approach your table, placing down the two drinks and straws.

“Have you decided what to get, sugar?” Carmen said, flashing a smile at Dean, not that he noticed. He was still looking at the menu, preoccupied with the dozens of choices to choose from.

“Yeah, uh… I’ll get the double bacon cheeseburger with fries on the side,” he said, before looking up and handing her his menu.

“And you?” She asked in a bored tone.

“I’ll get the chicken salad please, dressing on the side,” you said and she wrote it down before leaving. Dean gave you a look.

“Salad? I thought you liked burgers,” he observed, and you felt your heart sink. You didn’t want to be a salad girl, but here you were. You chastised yourself, this is Dean. He doesn’t care if you eat a pastrami sandwich.

“You’re right, I’ll be right back,” you said with newfound courage before getting up from the booth and walking over to the counter. You were able to call out to Carmen.

“Actually, can I have the pastrami sandwich with a side of fries instead of the salad?” She scoffed.

“Figures,” she muttered, “You don’t look like the salad type.”

Her bitchy tone cut through your heart like a knife. You were taken aback, unable to think for a second. You tried formulating a response, but she was already gone. You looked over at Dean who was typing away on his phone, probably texting Sam. You were defeated once again by a beautiful woman.

You made your way to the table, sitting down, lost in your thoughts. Dean’s phone was put away and you were staring at the table. Thinking for a second, you got up, and a look of confusion flashed in Dean’s eyes, but it was gone when you slid into the booth right next to him.

“Hey there, sweetheart. Get a little lonely over there?” He joked and you rolled your eyes before snuggling closer to him, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne.

“Just missed you was all,” you mumbled into his shoulder and he kissed the top of your head.

“I missed you too, sweetheart,” he said, “but I can tell something is wrong.” He gave you a knowing look.

“Carmen is pretty,” you admitted, hating that you were being petty.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” he said, and you scoffed, pulling away to look at him.

“I’m not jealous,” you said, hoping you sounded more confident than you felt.

“I was just… I was making sure that… I…” you stammered before sighing, your shoulders falling in defeat.

“Yeah, okay maybe I was a little jealous. But clearly, we’re here together and she just kept staring at you, and don’t even get me started on how she talked to me.” You could feel yourself sinking deeper into your thoughts, hating that your stupid insecurities were about to ruin the date.

“What did she say to you?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing. You shook your head, debating on not telling him, but his deep green eyes were full of concern and worry.

“Just that I don’t look like the salad type,” you said, lowering your head in embarrassment. A hand came up to cup your cheek and your eyes met his once again.

“That’s bullshit. You’re beautiful. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I’m only yours, sweetheart,” he said, sincerely, before pulling you into a gentle kiss. It was scary how easily that calmed you down. You had struggled with insecurities for the majority of your life, and it usually took a couple of days, if not weeks, to pull yourself out of the dark hole in your mind, but one kiss from Dean, and all of the sudden, your heart stops racing and your thoughts slow.

Your kiss was disrupted by a clatter of plates on the table. Carmen didn’t speak a word to either of you and she was about to leave when Dean called out to her.

“You’re going to apologize to my girlfriend and then we’re getting a new server. You have no right to speak to her like that,” Dean defended you, an angry look on his face.

“Dean,” you whispered, a bit embarrassed by how this was going. She wasn’t exactly wrong, you weren’t supermodel-thin nor did you have amazing curves that drove men wild.

“Sorry,” Carmen said, not sounding sorry at all, before spinning on her heels and walking away from the table.

“Bitch,” Dean muttered, his eyebrows furrowing as he noticed you were lost in your thoughts, a small frown on your face. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head before you turned to look up at him.

“Let’s just enjoy our date,” you said with a hopeful smile, and he nodded. Forty minutes, a pastrami sandwich, and a double bacon cheeseburger later, you were giggling like a schoolgirl, enamored by the man sitting next to you.

“Sammy was sitting on the handlebars while I rode us to the hospital!” Dean exclaimed and you laughed at the story. He snatched a fry off your plate and dipped it in ketchup before shoving it in his mouth. You were acutely aware of the warmth radiating from his thigh that was pressed against yours. Caught up in his green eyes, you didn’t notice a man approach the table.

“How was the food?” You jumped, shocked at his sudden appearance. It was the manager, John or Jacob or something with a ‘J’. He came over after you complained about Carmen, apologizing for her behavior and telling you that he would be serving you for the rest of the night.

You beamed at him, completely satisfied with the pastrami sandwich that was now happily sitting in your stomach.

“Great!” Dean responded, flashing him a smile. The manager returned the smile before continuing.

“Because of your unpleasant start to the evening, dessert is on us. We have root beer floats, ice cream sundaes, and a variety of pies,” he listed, and you immediately looked at Dean whose eyes lit up.

“We’ll take a slice of apple pie, please,” Dean responded right away, his hand squeezing yours in excitement. You giggled at the smile on his face. The manager nodded and left the table, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence. You looked up at him, admiring the freckles dotting his face. He gave you a soft smile that you returned and you leaned in for a kiss. It was a chaste kiss, not one of need or lust, but adoration and love.

Throughout the months, you have accepted that you had fallen for the oldest Winchester brother. There was the obvious fact that he was your soulmate, the one person in the world made exactly for you, but you knew that even if that weren’t the case, you would have still been in love with Dean. You loved his wit and charm, often catching yourself imagining his flirtatious winks. Not only was he gorgeous to look at, but he didn’t flaunt it like other men did. Sure, he knew he was attractive, but you at times, you sensed deep-rooted insecurities from him, which you thought was ridiculous since he was basically built like a Greek god. He was selfless to a fault; always putting everyone before himself. His loyalty to Sam was admirable, and you had no doubt that he would do anything for those he loved.

The manager placed a giant steaming slice of pie between the two of you, two forks on the side of the plate as well as whipped cream. You expected Dean to dig right in, but he looked at you expectantly. The scent of the spiced apple filled wafted from the plate and made your mouth salivate. Dean picked up a fork and detached a large piece from the tip of the slice. Before you could even register his actions, he brought the fork up to your mouth and pressed it against your closed lips. You accepted it without question, humming as the warm treat hit your tongue.

“That bad, huh?” Dean joked with a twinkle in his eye. You smiled at him before returning the favor. Your fork didn’t grab nearly as big of a piece as his did, but you focused on the way his lips wrapped around the fork. His tongue swiped at his upper lip, not wanting to waste a single crumb of pie.

Heat pooled in your belly and you clenched your thighs together, remembering just how much of an expert he was with his tongue. He groaned, his eyes closed as he savored the pie, and the sound shot straight to the apex of your thighs. You let out a small whimper, and his eyes flashed open. His green eyes swept your figure, taking in your squished thighs and flushed neck before smirking at you.

“Later, sweetheart,” he promised, his fingers dancing on the top of your thighs. You could feel his warmth through your jeans, sparks of electricity shooting through you with every touch. You shuffled closer to him, wanting your bodies as close as possible.

“You want some more?” He offered to you and you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. Dean got another piece of pie and shoved it in his mouth. You looked at him, confused, and he smirked at you once again before pulling you into a searing kiss. You let out a soft moan as his tongue played with yours, the taste of apple pie fresh in your mouths. His hand tightened around your thigh at the sound. He was the first to pull away, breathless.

“Let’s get this to go, ya?” He suggested with a wink and you giggled, nodding. You were lost in his smile, noting the way his eyes crinkled at the corners and his full lips turned up. He waved the manager down and asked for a box and the check. You placed the pie delicately in the take-out box as Dean set down enough cash to cover for the meal and tip.

You slid out of the booth first, pulling your leather jacket on and Dean’s hand rested on the small of your back, leading the both of you out of the diner. As you expected, the air was crisp and chilled. He opened the door of the Impala for you, making sure you were safely inside before shutting it. You watched as he jogged over to the driver's side, sliding in next to you. Grateful for the long bench, you shifted closer to Dean and his hand came to rest comfortably on your thigh.

The soft sounds of Bon Jovi whispered through the speakers, barely noticeable unless you strained your ears. The windows were closed this time due to the slightly colder weather, but you were warm with Dean beside you.

There wasn’t much talking on the way home. You sat in a comfortable silence, occasionally feeling his eyes on your face, but every time you looked at him, he was looking away, a smile on his face. After the third time, you huffed and grabbed his hand from your thigh, interlacing your fingers with his. He looked at you, surprise written on his face, and you gave him a triumphant smile. He brought your interlocked hands up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your hand.

Before you knew it, the familiar light of your street came into view and he pulled his car up in front of your house. You didn’t want to let go of his hand, so you slid out his door after he did, holding the box of pie in your other hand. The crickets were chirping as you walked up to the front door.

‘Later, sweetheart,’ came the echo of his voice throughout your mind, and you pulled him into the house, roughly kissing him once the door was closed. His arms came to your shoulders, gently pushing off the sleeves of your leather jacket. You struggled a little bit, not wanting to drop the pie in your hand, before Dean took it from you, setting it on the small table next to your door that usually held nothing but a small succulent.

He pulled off your shirt in a swift motion and his lips began traveling down your neck, occasionally sucking and licking sensitive spots. You gasped as he nibbled your earlobe.

“So responsive,” he murmured and an involuntary shiver ran through your body. His leg gently pushed your legs apart and his thigh pressed against your covered core. His hands gripped your waist, and you ground against his thigh, the friction of your jeans rubbing against your sensitive bud in a deliciously perfect way.

“Good girl,” he praised, continuing his trail of kisses from your neck down to the tops of your breasts.

“So beautiful,” he whispered to himself, staring at your flushed chest. You were wearing a simple bra, nothing fancy or particularly sexy, but Dean made you feel like you were in expensive lingerie, draped in the finest lace and silk in the world. You moaned wantonly, begging for more. You picked up the rhythm, moving faster against his thigh. He watched you with lust-filled eyes, devouring you. The pressure between your legs kept building until it finally peaked, and you came with a loud moan. Dean placed gentle kisses on your sweaty forehead, relaxing you as you came down from your high. His leg came down, setting your feet gently on the floor. Your legs felt like jello, occasional spasms wracking through them.

“Maybe we should move this to the bedroom,” you suggested, not wanting the night to be over. He picked you up in his arms and carried you bridal style into your room. He gently tossed you onto the bed. He peeled his clothes off and you wriggled out of your tight jeans and soaked underwear. Your hands went behind your back to unclasp your bra and you flung it off the bed, hearing it land on the floor with a soft thud. You laid back down on the bed, fully naked and ready for Dean.

His eyes swept over your naked body and you spied his cock straining through the fabric of his boxers. He quickly discarded his underwear and laid on top of you, his firm chest pressing against your naked breasts. You could feel him hard against your stomach and you snaked a hand between the two of you, wrapping your hand around his shaft.

Your thumb wiped across the slit, catching the beads of precum that were leaking from his tip. His breath caught and you slowly pumped him in your hands. One of his large hands came to rest on your right breast, his thumb brushing against your pebbled nipple. The other hand dipped into your wet folds, collecting your juices on his digits. You watched him suck them off his fingers before they were venturing into you once again. You whined, not wanting to wait another second for his cock to be inside you.

“Please,” you said, squirming beneath him. He had one hand lazily circling your clit and the other pinching and tugging at your breasts.

“Please what, sweetheart?” he asked, power dripping from his words. You searched for more friction, but couldn’t find any.

“Please fuck me,” you begged. “I want to feel you inside me please. Fill me up with your big cock.”

“Fuck, baby,” he swore under his breath, before lining himself at your entrance. With a single thrust, he was completely unleashed in you, and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan. He groaned into your neck, still not used to your tightness and warmth surrounding him. When you were adjusted to his large size, he began moving inside you.

His cock dragged along your walls with every thrust, emptying you and filling you repeatedly. Your legs hooked around his back, driving him deeper into you, hitting places you didn’t even know existed. Your moans bounced off the walls, as did his low grunts.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he demanded, his fingers working your clit once again. Your eyes clenched shut as you came around him with a scream. He pulled you into a bruising kiss and his thrusts became sloppy as he raced to catch his release, pulling out of you and spilling himself on your chest and stomach. Spent, he rolled next to you, the two of you heaving to catch your breath.

“Wow,” you whispered once your racing heart began to slow. He turned his face towards you, grinning.

“Yeah,” he agreed, before climbing out of bed to get you a damp towel. The two of you cleaned up in silence. He pulled on boxers and you pulled on underwear and his t-shirt, switching the light off before falling back into bed. His arms rested around you, your chests pressed against each other.

“Thank you for taking me on a date,” you said, catching his eyes with yours, “I’ve never been on one before, but I’m glad I waited for you.” You felt his body tense and his lips pressed tightly together.

“Sweetheart,” he started, and you saw regret fill his eyes.

“I should’ve waited for you. I wish I did,” he admitted, his voice tense. You shook your head and tried to press closer to him, but he pulled away.

“Dean,” you asked, confused, but it was his turn to shake his head.

“I never thought I’d meet you. I always thought this—,” he gestured towards your body, “you— I thought it was impossible. The life I live is not made for soulmates. I never imagined myself living a normal life with my soulmate. I couldn’t even bear the thought of it. So I didn’t.”

He ran a hand down his face, an exhausted sigh escaping his lips. You tugged at his hand, wanting to see him.

“I know that you have more experience than I do, Dean. That doesn’t bother me,” you tried to explain, but he pulled his hand away from yours.

“You don’t even know half of it,” he snapped back, and you pulled back at his sharp tone.

“Then explain it to me,” you demanded, knowing that this conversation had been boiling for a while and that it was only a matter of time before it reared its ugly head again. Dean must’ve known it too, because his eyes softened and he rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling.

“At first, it was just a bunch of one-night stands,” he started, and you laid stiffly, afraid that he would stop talking if you moved.

“I spent a lot of nights picking up girls in bars. I would flirt with them and take ‘em home. I’d show them a good time and leave before they’d wake up in the morning. It went on like that for years. I didn’t think I’d ever meet you. Hell, I didn’t even know if I’d be alive to meet you.

“But then I met Lisa, and for the first time in my life, I wanted to spend another night with a girl. I ended up spending a whole week at her place. I knew she wasn’t my soulmate. I knew that her soulmate died in a car accident years before. I knew that the universe didn’t perfectly make us for each other, but at the time, I didn’t care. Sam and Dad were on a case and I was alone.

“I thought about her a lot during my time on the road. I wanted to cling onto something— I needed to cling onto something. Years passed, and I still didn’t meet you. Me and Sammy ended up working a case in her city. I met her son.”

Your breath hitched. Her son? Dean turned his head towards you at the sound and saw the panic flash across your eyes.

“Oh no, Ben wasn’t my kid. I swear,” he tried to reassure you, but you didn’t feel comforted at the thought, you merely nodded, gesturing for him to resume his story.

“The apocalypse was approaching, and I was scared. I was weak and scared. I didn’t think I’d make it, and I had accepted the fact that I wouldn’t meet you before the world ended. I thought Lisa and Ben were all I had. I dreamed about her, quite a bit, really. I dreamed about having a life with her, mowing the lawn on Saturdays and picking Ben up from baseball practice. I visited her again before the whole Lucifer-Michael showdown happened. I told her that I’d made arrangements to keep her and Ben safe, and she asked me to stay with her, but I knew that I couldn’t. I had to be there for Sammy. For Bobby.

“But then, Sam was in the cage. I was lost and broken. So I did the only thing that I could think of. I left the hunting life and moved in with Lisa.” His words pierced you like a knife, your heart shattering into pieces. Tears pooled in your eyes.

You weren’t exactly sure why you were upset. It wasn’t his fault that the two of you hadn’t met at the time. It wasn’t his fault that he met Lisa before he met you. It wasn’t his fault that he sought comfort in her when you weren’t there for him. You knew it was no one’s fault, just circumstance, but that didn’t keep you from feeling a sting of betrayal.

“How long?” You whispered, knowing that if you spoke any louder it would crack and you would burst into tears. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to know the answer. He was silent for a moment, and you thought he wouldn’t respond.

“A year,” he said, his voice hoarse, seemingly filled with regret, concern, and pain. Your stomach dropped. A year? He spent a whole year with her. A whole year with her and her son. Their son. It didn’t matter that Dean wasn’t Ben’s biological father, you already knew that Dean loved him like his own. You let out a shaky breath, preparing yourself to ask the question that had been floating around your mind ever since he started.

“Did you love her?”

You couldn’t even meet his eyes. You looked anywhere but him, your eyes roaming over your ceiling instead of the green eyes that were staring at you. He was quiet, and you closed your eyes, feeling tears spill down the side of your face.

“I thought I did, but I don’t know anymore,” came his whispered reply. “In some ways, it probably was love. But not the kind of love that would survive. I couldn’t live a life without hunting. She couldn’t live a life with hunting.”

You winced at his words. The implication that if they were able to compromise, he wouldn’t be laying next to you right now, but next to her. You wished he had just said yes. Maybe it would’ve hurt less.

“Okay,” you said because there was nothing else to say. You contemplated kicking him out of the bed, but you still loved him, and you knew that it would just pain you more. You turned over on your side, your back facing him. You pulled the covers up, wanting them to swallow you whole. There was movement on the bed and you heard the shuffling of sheets, feeling Dean’s warm body come close to yours to hold you, but you tensed up.

“Please don’t,” you whispered, and he stilled before respecting your wishes, retreating back to his side of the bed. You gripped a pillow against your side, hugging it for comfort. You tried to keep your sobs silent, but there was no use hiding them.

You cried for your pain and hurt, wanting to hate Dean, but you couldn’t. You cried for the love lost between the two of you. You cried because you didn’t know if he even wanted you. But most of all, you cried for Dean. You cried for the burdens he’s endured and that you couldn’t be there for him during times of hardship. You cried because you knew that it wasn’t Dean’s fault, yet here you were punishing him because you were really punishing yourself.

As your tears slowed and your breath became steady again, you were exhausted. You were already drifting off to sleep when you felt Dean’s fingers in your hair and a gentle kiss to your forehead. Too tired to argue, you snuggled into his body and let sleep take you away.

Taglist: @akshi8278 @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @lanea-1 @slamminmine

[andvys]

Longing (part 13)

Warnings: angst, some fluff

Pairing: Ellie Williams x reader

Author’s note: this chapter is kinda short but I still wanted to give you guys something so here you go 💕 next chapter might take a while tho, I’m not sure yet.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” Ellie answered, running her hand up and down your arm. You were still laying on the couch, naked under the thin blanket. You were fully on top of her, your head on her chest.

“Is that ‘chemical burn’ a bite?” You asked looking up at her.

“Yeah, you put the pieces together huh?” She asked, looking down on you. Nodding your head, “kinda always thought this story was bullshit but I didn’t think that it could be a bite from an infected.” Tracing her tattoo.

“Do you wanna know the story?” She asked, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to Ellie.” You said, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

“I want to.” She said, rubbing your back softly.

“Alright.”

She began telling you about Riley, she first told you the story of their friendship and how she always had a crush on her. It was cute hearing her talk about her teenage years. Comparing them to yours, they seemed normal, your teenage years were brutal, you were forced to do things, horrible things. She told you about her and Joel, how they met and bonded over time and then she told you about what happened at the hospital, what Joel did to get her out of there and how he lied to her about it, you never knew what happened between them but now you understood.

You got why she was angry at him for keeping something like that from her but you didn’t agree with her opinion on this. You knew the fireflies, you knew what they did and you sure as hell didn’t support what they were willing to do to get a vaccine. Killing an innocent girl for a vaccine that didn’t even have a guarantee that it could work, seemed wrong to you.

Ellie looked down at, she wanted to know what was going through your head. You didn’t say anything yet and you seemed to be deep in thought, processing all the information you just got.

Looking up at her, you leaned in pecking her lips softly. “Can I be honest with you?” You asked, stroking her cheek.

“Of course.”

“You won’t agree with me on this but what Joel did.. it was right.” Furrowing her brows at you she went to say something but you didn’t let her. “There was no guarantee that it would’ve worked. My dad was a firefly.. h-he told me some of the horrible things they’ve done to people. How they experimented on them and even turned them into those things just to see if they’re new ‘cure’ would work. Ever since the outbreak, they’ve been promising people a cure and yet they always come out empty handed. You being immune, has got nothing to do with a cure, your blood might be more advanced or something, maybe there are more like you around the world and maybe in the future most people will be immune.” She seemed to process your words, not knowing what to say, she looked up at the ceiling.

“And Joel, he loved you ellie. He would’ve done anything for you. He decided that it wasn’t worth to live in a ‘better world’ knowing that you weren’t a part of it. He was okay with living in this horrible world as long as you’re alive and well I would’ve done the same thing if I was him.” She looked at you, eyes glistening with tears.

“Ellie I’d rather spent my life living in a world where there’s a possibility that I could die out there every time I go out than living in a peaceful world knowing that you don’t even get to be a part of it.” You said, wiping her tears away, you kissed her cheek. She couldn’t believe that you’d rather live in this hell with her than even thinking about the possibility of living a safe and healthy life, without her.

“I let him down.” She whispered, letting more tears fall. “And I never got the chance to forgive him.”

She was feeling guilt. You knew this ugly feeling all to well and you wouldn’t let it destroy her. She was suffering for having treated Joel bad all these years but beating herself up for it wouldn’t bring him back.

“He knows Ellie.” You whispered, hugging her. You felt her pain, you knew exactly what she was going through.

“Joel loved you like his own daughter, no matter what. He wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up like that okay?” Grabbing her face in your hands. “Don’t do this to yourself Ellie, it’s easy to lose yourself in this darkness so fight it, no matter what.” Wiping her tears away, you pressed a kiss on her cheek. “I’m here with you.”

“Thank you babe.” Hugging you close to her, she kissed her forehead. You knew what she was going through right now, you knew because you felt like that too. Ellie couldn’t forgive herself for the way she treated Joel and you couldn’t forgive yourself for saving Abby.

You always tried to do the right thing, helping wherever you could, helping whoever you could and yet you felt like you were a bad person. You saved Joel’s killer. You saved a boy you shouldn’t have saved when you were 14 years old. You always tried saving everyone and in the process of doing so, you started losing yourself.

You realized most people you saved ended up being bad and you’d have to kill them in the end. Abby would be no exception. You were going to kill her, you promised yourself that. For Joel.

You still had nightmares of Joel blaming you for his death before killing you. You knew it wasn’t real, you knew it was your mind making it up because of the guilt you were feeling. This wasn’t Joel, he would never blame you for anything, let alone kill you but it still made you feel bad. It was exhausting and you were tired all the damn time. Your mind either plagued your with nightmares or with Joel’s death, you weren’t sure how long you could keep going like that but you had to stay strong for Ellie, you acted like you were fine, you didn’t show her how weak you actually felt. You had to pull through at least until Abby was dead, you owed this to her, you owed this to Joel.

Waking up it was still dark out. Both you and Ellie fell asleep after your conversation. Looking down at her, she was fast asleep, breathing softly, her arm was around you, keeping you close to her in her sleep, you’d love to stay like that with her for a while longer but you still had to check out the rest of the theater, so you got up carefully making sure you wouldn’t wake her up. Putting your clothes on, you looked at Ellie one more time before going further inside the theater, to see what you would find.

You went up the stairs, and grabbed whatever you could find that would be useful later. You thought about last night. You weren’t sure if what you and Ellie did was right, you wanted her but you had to admit to yourself that it was an act of frustration. You were on the road for weeks, facing bad people, infected and what not, life wouldn’t let you catch a break and the minute you had time to relax you and Ellie used it to forget about everything else for a while, it helped but it wasn’t the right time. You didn’t regret it, not at all. You enjoyed every second of it and would do it again but maybe at a more appropriate time. You just hoped Ellie wouldn’t regret it.

You found an old radio and decided to try and fix it after you got the generator started. It took you a while but you finally managed to fix it. Listening in on them you found some stuff out that would definitely be useful to you. Sitting on the floor you looked at the map and then at the Polaroids, grabbing the one with Abby and the guy named Owen, you looked at it. Deep in thought you didn’t hear Ellie come inside until she said your name softly. Turning too look at her, you smiled at her. “Hey.”

“Hey babe”. Sitting down next to you. “You good?” She asked, searching for the look of regret on your face. She woke up with you gone and she feared that you changed your mind about her and felt bad for what you two did.

“I am, you?” You asked, glancing at her quickly before looking down again. Feeling a little shy under her gaze.

“Me too.” She said, nervously rubbing her neck she looked at you, blushing at the marks around your neck, it was covered with hickeys and bruises. “Listen (y/n) you don’t- you don’t regret it do you?” Her question making you snap your head to the side, to look at her.

“No! No, god no Ellie.” You said, staring into her eyes now, intertwining your fingers with hers. Hating the fact that you made her feel like you regretted having sex with her.

Breathing out, she felt relieved at your words. For a second she thought you’d go back to the way you used to be a few weeks ago. Moving closer she kissed your temple before looking down at the map.

“I see you fixed the radio.. did you hear something?” She asked, taking polaroid of Abby and Owen in her hand looking at it.

You started explaining to her what you found out and where you’d have to go today, showing her on the map while talking about the WLF’s.

“We have to find Jesse.” You said, looking at the map in worry. You had no idea where he went and you didn’t know where to start looking for him.

“Do you think we should go back to the serevena hotel?” Ellie asked, noticing the concerned look on your face.

“I.. I don’t know. He wouldn’t be there anymore I think.” You said, sighing. “I don’t know what to do, I hope he’s okay.”

“I’m worried too but I’m sure he’s fine. Tommy’s out there as well, who knows maybe they ran into each other already.” Ellie said, shrugging.

“I hope so.” You whispered, grabbing the map off the floor you stuffed it in your backpack. “Should we get going?” You asked, standing up.

Ellie looked up at you, frowning slightly, she was worried about what you were going to be facing today, she didn’t want you to be in danger but she knew you sure as hell wouldn’t sit back and wait for her here.

“Yeah.” She said, getting up.

Nodding your head you turned around to go out the door but a hand pulled you back. Facing Ellie again, she pulled you closer hands on your cheeks she leaned in pressing her lips against yours softly. Sighing into the kiss you closed your eyes, kissing her back with your arms around her neck. Enjoying this moment before you’d go out into this shitty world.

Pulling away from each other, you opened your eyes, gazing into her eyes you pecked her lips once more. “Alright let’s go.” You whispered, grabbing her hand. “Yeah”. Squeezing your hand she followed you out.

You didn’t know what was going to happen today. You didn’t know what kinds of threats you’d be facing but you knew that you’d keep Ellie safe and she would keep you safe.

[ladykailitha]

All My Roads Lead Back to You Epilogue

Here it is, the final part. I’m sad that’s it over. It has been such a lovely story and such lovely people that have supported me through. Those that were there from the start. Those that joined at anytime during the ride. Even the ones joined in with the last chapter. Thank you. All of you. You are all amazing.

The wedding.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

***

The Munson-Harrington wedding was the must have invite of the year. It didn’t even matter that their marriage would only be recognized in a handful of states. All that mattered was that they were getting the chance to tie the knot and throw a huge party for all their friends.

Dateline had done an hour long piece of the Hawkins Witch Hunt as they were calling what happened to Eddie. It opened a whole can of worms regarding the Hawkins Police Department and other things that they may have sanctioned.

That lovely little news piece also bagged Kenny a girlfriend. He took one look at Lily Byers when she arrived for school that autumn and fell head over heels in love with her.

She even joined the band as rhythm guitar to newly named Children of the Knights of Hell’s Fire. They had found their style at last. It was little bit metal and whole lot of rock.

While their kids were in their senior year, Jeff, Gareth, Eddie, and Steve were all in Eddie’s studio working on an album. Apparently not only could Steve play, but the man had the pipes of a god damned angel.

Eddie had been tempted to put him as lead vocalist, but Gareth wisely pointed out that fans are going to at least expect to hear Eddie at some point.

So Steve was harmonies and backup vocals as well as bassist. Eddie was writing away and coming up with new stuff, remixing old stuff and he was finally able to properly grieve Jay by writing the song “Two Loves: Not Better, Just Different”.

The original Corroded Coffin boys loved it, Children of the Knights of Hell’s Fire loved it, and of course Steve loved it. It was unanimously decided that it should be the first single.

Everyone came to the wedding. The other Byers/Wheeler clan arrived with twin baby girls that they recently adopted. Beautifully named Elinor and Jeanette.

Dustin and Suzie’s baby boy was named Percival or Percy after his other favorite literary hero when Suzie wouldn’t let him name their child D’Artangan. He was also spoiled rotten.

Max and Lucas were the next to arrive with three very tall red-headed, dark skinned boys. The eldest Anthony was sixteen, the middle boy, Reggie was twelve, and their youngest Sean was eight.

Erica and her husband, David brought their two boys, Nico and Nemo aged ten. When their firsts were twins that was enough for them.

The parents started arriving as well. Joyce and Jim came. Claudia, too. The Sinclairs were there of course. Wayne had showed up weeks ago to help with all the planning.

Jane came last. She never married, she became a children’s advocate for neglected and abused orphans. She was the one they brought in when things got bad because she always had a ‘knack’ for knowing what the child was thinking. She had thrown herself into the work and found it rewarding.

Steve’s house was teaming with children of all ages and he loved it. Eddie came up to him at the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding.

“It’s not quite the six nuggets you were hoping for,” he murmured into Steve’s ear, his arm gently wrapping around his waist. “But I think you’ve got your wish about lots of kids, sweetheart.”

Steve blushed. “I didn’t know anyone had heard that.”

Eddie nibbled on his ear. “My only regret is pushing you toward Nancy. That wasn’t fair to any of the parties involved.”

Steve nodded. “I was so desperate to be loved by someone, I would have fallen for anyone. It’s not your fault.”

Eddie’s chuckle rumbled through Steve, they were that close. “Ah, but you see that’s my regret. Had I known that I would have pushed my case so fucking hard, babe.”

Steve burst out laughing. “I’ll bet you would have! Throwing that vest in my face so hard I had to take a step back just because Nancy and I had an in-joke.”

“Guilty as charged.”

Max came up to them and hit Steve with her crutches. “About time you two got your heads out of your collective asses.”

Eddie gave her a hug. “I missed you too, Red.”

“Just make one of the stops on your tour Boston and we’ll call it even,” she said.

“Deal,” Steve and Eddie said together.

She laughed. “God, how does Harri and Edie put up with you two? You’re such saps!”

“Auntie Max!” Edie called. “Come meet Mandy Lawrence, she skates, too!”

Max laughed. “I’m coming. Hold your horses.”

*

The backyard was beautifully decorated in blue and yellow flowers. Eddie’s groomsmen were in blue and Steve’s bridesmaids were in bright, sunny yellow. Dustin was Eddie’s best man and Robin was Steve’s maid of honor. On Steve’s side of the aisle was Nancy, Edie, Lily, and Max. On Eddie’s was Wayne, Harri, Jeff, and Gareth.

It was a quiet affair despite everyone who knew anyone wanted to be invited.

There was no procession. Steve and Eddie were already at the alter waiting for their guests to file in. They stood together, both hands clasped in the other’s.

Hopper was officiating, having become a justice of the peace after leaving the police force. They had already done the marriage part in a quiet courthouse in a small Massachusetts town. This was for their friends and family to witness.

“Today we bring together two people,” Hopper began, “who despite all appearances of being complete opposites couldn’t be more perfect for each other than if God himself had planned it.”

Steve and Eddie both blushed.

“Eddie,” Steve murmured, “You are the best part of me. I wandered lost and though I was never quite alone, having friends and beautiful daughter by my side, I looked for love in all the wrong places, because that place was always home, with you. I started us on the path by saying things I didn’t mean because I frightened of the change you have always brought to my life.” Steve released Eddie’s hand for a moment to wipe away a tear.

“But I should have realized that you brought me joy in those changes and not run away from you. So I promise to come to you when I’m feeling down or bad about myself. I promise to love you even if loving myself is hard. I promise to care for you always and cherish each moment of every day that I get with you. I never thought I’d get a single day, and getting a chance of a life time with you is a dream come true.”

He brought Eddie’s hands to lips to kiss his knuckles.

Eddie smiled. “Steve, I believed I used up my second chance when you rescued me all those years ago. Bleeding and broken, I thought my second chance at a new life was when me and my boys got our record deal, but now I see that my real second chance was here, with you. Jay made me happy for the time we had together, and I truly believe he prepared my heart to be receptive to yours.”

Steve mouthed, ‘I love you.’

“I promise to love on the days that are hard. To cherish on the days that are easy. And worship you all of my days. You had a life time of believing yourself to be unlovable, and I promise to spend the next forty years–”

“At least!” Dustin called out.

Eddie laughed. “At the very least. I promise to spend the rest of ours lives proving how wrong you are. That you are loved, adored, worshiped, and admired by me. I love you, sweetheart.”

Hopper cleared his throat and blinked back tears. “And now the rings.”

Eddie took the black box from Dustin. He pulled out a gold band that had a sun and a moon with a diamond in the sun setting and a grey garnet in the moon setting. “With this ring, I thee wed.” He slipped it on Steve’s ring finger.

Steve looked at it in wonder, eyes filling with joyous tears. He took the white box from Robin and pulled out a black wrought iron ring with the same setting, only in the sun spot was a red garnet and in the moon’s was the diamond. “With this ring, I thee wed.” He slid it onto Eddie’s finger.

“By the authority vested in me,” Hopper concluded, “I pronounce you both husbands in the eyes of this congregation and God, husbands as long as you both shall live. You may now kiss the groom.”

Eddie grabbed Steve’s face in his hands and kissed him fiercely as Steve held on.

They broke off to laughter and tears. They walked back down the aisle to everyone throwing white rose petals over them as they past. Eddie and Steve laughed, skipping and giggling like children as their bridesmaids and groomsmen followed close behind.

*

The reception was the grand affair. All of Steve’s friends were there and all of Eddie’s connections in the music industry was there. Harri was almost one hundred percent sure he saw James Hetfield talking to famed baseball player Derek Jetter, but then someone past in front of him and they were both gone by the time Harri could see around the person again.

Harri walked up to Edie and bumped their shoulders together. “Who would have thought that over a year ago when you told me that you needed a new guitarist for your band, that it would lead to the wedding of the decade, between our two dads.”

She looked over at her dad who was trying to catch marshmallows with his mouth thrown by Dustin, Jane, and Eddie. He had come so far now that he was with the right therapist. Edie had started listening to her own more now too and was forced to admit she didn’t need to look after her dad because he could look after himself just fine.

“Best decision ever,” she agreed.

“Just two small town boys from each from different worlds clawing their way to make their own place in the world,” a warm voice said behind them.

Edie and Harri turned to see Wayne Munson standing there in a nice grey suit having changed for the reception, hands in his pockets.

“Grandpa Wayne!” Harri cried and threw his arms around him. “It’s been so great having you around these last couple of weeks.”

Wayne reached out with one arm for Edie who promptly snuggled up too.

“Does this mean you’re my grandpa now, too?” she whispered.

Wayne kissed the top of her head. “Of course it does. Steve was always mine married to Eddie or not. Even if we hadn’t spoken in decades, Stevie was always mine.”

“You’re going to make me cry for the tenth time,” Steve said coming up to them, hand in hand with Eddie, “if you keep saying things like that.”

Wayne waved his hands. “Come on, I still arms enough for you two.”

Steve and Eddie joined the Wayne hug and sighed happily.

“Hey!” Jonathan said, “Picture?”

They all lined up, Wayne in the middle flanked by Eddie and Steve his side while Edie and Harri stood next to their dads.

Jonathan snapped the photo.

Steve came up and gave him a hug. “Thanks for agreeing to do the photos for us.”

Jonathan hugged back fiercely. “Not a problem, man. Saves me from having to buy you a toaster.”

Steve laughed. “Where’s your beautiful wife?”

Jonathan looked around and pointed to the punch bowl. “There she is. Bitching out Barbara Walters.”

Eddie laughed. “Sounds about right.”

Harri looked over at her and cocked his head. “Hey, Dad. She looks a lot like you.”

Jonathan and Eddie shared a panicked expression.

“Well, you see...” Eddie said as Steve threw his head back and laughed.

***

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[goggles-mcgee]

Too Late: Alya & Nino (commission for miner249er)

Fourth chapter of @miner249er ‘s commission

Chapter Summary: The truth is harsh. Teens are harsher.

Previous Work

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Truth.

As an aspiring journalist it was something Alya strived for. It was the most important thing she could give the people who followed her so diligently. She thought she had been giving them that. She had been so good about giving them the truth, her truth, and Ladybug’s truth in the past, she foolheartedly believed she was continuing to do so despite taking shortcuts later on in the road. Why didn’t she fact check herself? Why did she throw that very thing in Marinette’s face? What kind of reporter was she? What kind of friend was she? The answers were all around her and yet she still wasn’t ready to face them head on. There was still that voice in her head that was telling her that this was all Lila Rossi’s fault. 

But is it? Alya thought as her and Nino ate together at her house, the TV on in the background. At first it had been on the news but Alya was done with the news for a long while, all it had been was coverage of The Protector and Nino had immediately taken the remote and changed it to cartoons. This was hitting him hard, harder than Alya had expected if she was being honest. When they found out Ladybug and Chat Noir had, in fact, not defeated The Protector and instead the akuma, that Marinette had gone missing, it hit the class hard. Hard because they learned the truth about Lila in that time and that had been rough to work through. Then they had to come to the realization that they believed Lila over Marinette, the sweet, kind, selfless girl that had all at one point been friends with. 

Then the lies got to them. It poisoned them. That’s what Alya had written on her blog anyways. They were victims of a silver-tongue and they had paid the price, one they had not been prepared to pay for. Their friend was missing, had been missing and they couldn’t do anything. Alya had been searching through as many local papers and news around the world for any clues if Marinette had possibly gone to those places. Everything was coming up empty. She had even made a separate website along with Max all about Marinette and what had happened, she left ways to reach her and her classmates in case anyone had any info. Nino said they should have added Tom and Sabine’s information as well but Alya was too scared to ask them if they would be okay with it, last time they had all been at the bakery the tension had been palpable. 

They weren’t banned like Nathaniel had worried they would be but every time they went in with their families, because that was the only time they went in there, it was always awkward. Tom and Sabine were much too nice to ban them even if they felt like they deserved it. How did everything go so wrong? Even school wasn’t as fun as it had been. Walking into their classroom was like taking a walk of shame, people from other classes, even teachers just stared at them. Some even glared. Then there were the whispers, Dieu the whispers, they followed them everywhere not just school, but they were the most prominent there. Her, Nino, and their classmates would find notes in their lockers, none were really threatening but they tore at her heart all the same. Things like, ‘You’re the reason she’s gone,’ or, ‘Are you guys proud of yourselves now?’ ‘Were the lies worth it?’ ‘You traded in a gem for fool’s gold.’ ‘What a reporter you turned out to be.’

All the notes hurt. That was the truth. That last one? She had found it in her locker this morning and it burned. Alya had been bullied before, she never liked to think about it, who would? But she was and she had to acknowledge it because she had told herself she would never allow herself to be bullied again, and most importantly, she would never turn into a bully. Wrong. She was wrong, and it wasn’t the first time she had been made aware of this since everything happened. Since everything changed. It was a blessing that Nino and her were still together, he never partook in the “tough love” the class had been giving Marinette before she...before she had been akumatized. Sure he didn’t stop them, and that was bad, but he didn’t go out of his way to not invite her to things until she stopped being “jealous” and started acting like the bigger person. Nino wasn’t the one who ignored her text messages, which now that Alya read them, were pretty telling that her friend had been hurting and she had only made that worse. 

“What are you thinking about babe?”

Alya looked up from her half eaten bowl of soup to see Nino gazing at her in concern. “Marinette.”

“Oh…” He breathed out as he put his spoon down and looked down at the table before placing one of his hands on hers and giving her a small smile. “Everything will be okay Alya. Someone will find her and then she’ll be back home.”

Empty words. Empty words fed to him too much from adults who didn’t have any updates on anything. “You don’t believe that. And even if she did...who's to say she would even want to talk to us!? What’s to say that anything would be better? We would still be seen as the bad guys! We will still all have to eat lunch at our houses or the park just to avoid the stares and the whispers and the tossed trash our way and the “accidentally” spilled drinks!”

Alya had never understood just how much their class had been living in its own little world. Not to say they were completely unattached to the rest of the school, Alix, Nathaniel, Rose, Chloe, and Sabrina were in the art club (the art teacher and the rest of the club had made a mural of Marinette without notifying them or asking for their help. Everyone is encouraged to leave notes about Marinette on the mural. The art room even has a chair decorated in honor of Marinette that no one else can use. That was announced very pointedly Alix later shared.), Rose was in the scrapbooking club (no one asked to use her materials anymore like they used to), and Max was in the gaming club which Marinette had helped him set up (people weren’t showing up lately.) They weren’t kicked out, but they were reminded of Marinette all the time,it was like everyone’s way of punishing them. It had never occurred to any of them how popular Marinette was.

So popular that the whole school seemed to hate them. Even Mlle Mendeleiev seemed to be harsher than normal and that was really saying something, it would seem like she had a soft spot for Marinette. In their class everyone avoided Marinette’s seats in class, Alya had to step up as class representative but the silver lining was that Nino had stepped up to be her deputy. Though another negative was the fact Nino had stopped making his music and taking DJ gigs. At first he hadn’t said anything to her or their friends, Alya found out because of Chris actually, but then her and Adrien confronted him and he broke down. He cried and he didn’t stop for a long time, but when he had calmed enough to talk he pulled out old pictures of him and Marinette, told them stories about how they had grown up together. It had made the pit in Alya’s stomach grow, she had just been thinking about her and how much she blamed herself and how much she missed her best friend, she hadn’t even thought how this was affecting Nino.

“I...I need to believe it Alya. I need to. Because if I don’t I will break apart. Mari...Marinette and I were best friends in l'école primaire. I never thought she would ever not be a part of my life. Then the whole Lila thing happened and I turned into a coward again, like I had with Chloe! No, worse than a coward! I don’t even know what I would call myself but I know I can’t call myself her friend.” His voice rose the more he spoke and near the end it cracked. 

“Nino…”

“No. I know that’s the truth! And I know, I know that things at school have been rough. Hell, they’ve been awful, everyone sees us as these villains in some trashy young teen novel when all we’ve done is make a mistake! Yes. It was a big mistake but it was a mistake nonetheless but we’re...we’re kids dammit. We’re just kids.” Alya felt tears race down her cheeks as she saw her boyfriend break yet again, his cheeks wet with his tears, his voice choked with his guilt. 

“I know. I just...I just want her back. I want everything back. I don’t know how many times we have to apologize to the school, but they’re not even the ones that need to hear the apologies! The one we need to have hear us isn’t here and…” Alya could feel herself breaking but she tried to hold on. Nino needed her to be strong. Her class needed her to be strong. Her family needed her to be strong.

“I can’t take the stares! Or, or hear Rose’s cries that she tries to hide from us. Mylene hasn’t been eating and I know she thinks we don’t notice and Adrien, god Adrien. I’m trying to hold it together because my bro is falling apart at the seams! First Marinette gets...gets fucking akumatized, then his dad and Nathalie get taken to the hospital from some supposedly random attack but it’s pretty obvious it was Mar-the akuma’s doing, his mom freaking pops out of nowhere but of course that can’t just be a good thing because everyone has to talk about how his dad and Nathalie were probably Hawkmoth and Mayura! And I’m over here trying not to think too much about all that because it makes actually too much sense, but then we find out that Marinette was most likely Ladybug! LADYBUG!” He lamented, not bothering to hide the fact he was crying, more like sobbing. It just made Alya cry more.

“I...I wanted the truth for so long, but not like this. Not like this. I...I know this makes me sound like the worst person on the planet but I kind of wish stupid Gabriel Agreste wasn’t Hawkmoth because then I could be akumatized and maybe I could be some kind of time-travelling akuma and we could go back and fix everything and school wouldn’t be hell and the twins wouldn’t act like they had to walk on eggshells around me all the time and my dad wouldn’t look like he’s always so disappointed in me and my mom wouldn’t look at my with only pity in her eyes and Nora would talk to me and Marinette would be back!” Alya sobbed out. At this point her and Nino had moved from their seats to the kitchen floor and were huddled together hugging each other for comfort. 

The two just sat there soaking up whatever comfort they could and dreaded the time that passed. For each minute that passed, was a minute that brought them closer to having to go back to school. Alya didn’t know if she had the strength to go back and deal with everything, she didn’t know if Nino could handle it either, but she knew her mother would be by any minute to give them a lift back to school. If there was a way she could just finish school online, Alya was willing to do it, but her father wouldn’t ever allow it. He had put his foot down, Otis Césaire was mad, then he was disappointed and he thought it only fair that Alya face her peers and continue on at Françoise Dupont. It didn’t feel fair, it didn’t feel fair at all, it felt like punishment. Hadn’t she been punished enough? Even in sleep she wasn’t safe, all she dreamed of was Lila and her making her act like a puppet. She would see puppet her do all these things to Marinette and she would wake up in sweat and tears.

“Okay I’m here, I hope you two are ready to head ba-” Alya looked up to see her mom standing there staring at her and Nino, her mouth agape. “Oh Alya...Nino...How about I call the school and tell them you’re not feeling good? And I’ll call your parents Nino.”

Alya was going to respond, she really was, but when she opened her mouth nothing came out but a choked off cry and nod. Nino nodded as well as he took in a shaky breath. “Th-Thanks, Mme C.”

“Nino, you know I told you to call me Marlena. Now you two go rest in Alya’s room while I make those calls. Then maybe I can get the rest of the day off and-” 

“No manman. Things...things are already bad enough, don’t make it worse by not going back to work. I don’t...I don’t want to be the reason why you get fired.” Alya mumbled as she and Nino got up off the floor.

“Oh...Oh my little one, that won’t happen. And if it did, not because of you. Never. Don’t you think that.” Alya’s mother breathed out as she pulled her daughter into a hug before taking her daughter’s face in her hands and doing her best to wipe her tears. 

“Papa and Nora would! Nora still won’t talk to me and Papa only looks at me like he’s disappointed he ever had me!” Alya cried out before she could stop the words from coming out. Her mind completely forgot that Nino was standing right beside her until she felt him hold her hand and give it a squeeze. 

“Your Papa is just being stubborn, but you listen to me, he could never ever be disappointed in having you. You are our daughter. You made a mistake yes, but I know you know you made a mistake and that you are sorry. Your Papa will realize that. He just needs time. And Nora...she just needs time too. I just think she doesn’t know how to handle everything and that she’s mad that she couldn’t protect you sweetie. She’s always been the protective older sister, and this was something she couldn’t protect you from herself. They’ll come around. I’m sure.” 

“If you’re sure manman…”

“I am. Now you kids go relax. I’m going to take the rest of the day off and go to the store for dinner ingredients, I’ll be back soon. I know things are hard my little Melusine but they won’t always be like this.” With a kiss to her forehead and a swift hug to Nino, Alya’s mom left the two teens in the family apartment.

At first they just stood there in silence and sniffles, but Nino made the move to put their plates in the sink and rinse them out while Alya gathered their schoolwork back into their bookbags. Then they  made their way to Alya’s room and kicked off their shoes before sitting on the bed. Nino nudged Alya who looked at him in confusion until she saw him give her a crooked smile and open his arms which she fell easily into. She took off her glasses and placed them on her bedside table while she felt more than saw Nino take off his cap. For a while they just sat there in the quiet of the moment and Alya was content to do just that, to just have a moment of peace, but she slowly pushed away and reached for her remote to turn on the TV and quickly pulled up Netflix. Her mom wanted them to relax so why not fry their brains with some television. 

“Anything in particular you want to watch?” She asked as she settled back against Nino.

“As long as it has nothing to do with school or superheroes...I’m good.” Nino responded with a hollow chuckle. 

“I’m glad we don’t have to go back too…” She murmured, “Should we...tell the others?”

“Probably. But if I’m being honest I don’t really feel like talking to them and them asking how we are and if we’re okay when they know we’re not. I just. I don’t think I could handle that. Not today.” 

“I get it. Sometimes I feel like everyone else even blames me for what happened. Like... Like it was my responsibility to not fall for the lies and to warn them. Like my word would have made a difference! Mari...Marinette’s didn’t so why would mine?” Alya huffed as she scrolled through all the movie and show choices and tried her best not to cry again. 

“If they blame you then they need to blame me too and blame the people in the mirror. We all fell for the lies. Sure you’re the budding reporter, but the blame could just as easily be pushed onto Max who is so smart he created a living AI. But we have no one to be mad at but ourselves and we can only do that for so long.” Nino sighed as he held her closer and kissed her temple. Alya relished in the warmth of it all. 

“When did you get so wise?” Alya teased softly.

“When I decided to rewatch Star Wars. But no seriously. If anyone in class bothers you please tell me because we should be sticking together not at each other’s throats.” Nino stuck out one hand and Alya slid her hand into his.

“Cross my heart and hope to die. I will. And you’re right, we do need each other, especially now, especially at that school.”

“Especially at that school, yeah.” He laughed out. “We’re going to get through this. I don’t know how, but, we are and we’re going to do it together.”

Alya smiled wryly before she looked up at Nino and it slipped into a real small smile. “Together.” She agreed softly.

Last Chapter                             Next Chapter

l'école primaire - elementaryschool

manman - Haitian Creole for Mother

[binniesthighs]

hi!! i rly liked your first writing it was so cute and you described jisung so well too! can i request a friends to lovers with han? kinda slow burn like they're really good friends but jisung gets jealous of her close friend and reader secretly likes him too but she doesnt wanna ruin the things between them so... one day they get into a fight and they end up making out😳 bc shes like "wtf we're friends" smut is ok but just a make out would be fine too the details r up to u💗

why yes you can! Thank you for requesting hehe you are my first ask ever  ♡ I hope that you like it, here’s some best friend ‘sungie for ya :)   

all yours | reader x jisung |

Paring: self-insert, female reader x han jisung

Genre: fluff ‘n a lil bit of smut & angst  

Tags: student!reader, bestfriend!jisung, lab partner!felix (haha), friends to lovers, mutual pining, best friend au, college au, jealousy, slow-ish burn, mentions of exams, some yelling, reader is secretly whipped for jisung (and jisung for the reader), explicit language, marking, that good good makin’ out

Word count: 2.4k

“Hey!”

The little ball of paper that you had crinkled up bounced off Jisung’s arm with a soft pat.

“What happened to studying together? You said that you were gonna quiz me.”

Jisung’s eyes popped up from his phone screen looking a little bewildered. “Sorry, I just...got a little distracted.

“Distracted? Looking at what?”

“Oh, nothing.” He placed his phone down, clicking it off.

“Is “nothing” code for some girl’s Instagram?” You dished him out a teasing smirk. “I think you forget that I know you better than you know yourself sometimes.”

Jisung shuffled the papers in front of him pretending like he had something to do. “Psh. I was not.”

“--Does she go to school here?”

“I told you, I said no.” He furrowed his brow trying to look as serious as possible, but that was nearly impossible for someone as naturally adorable as him. “Why are you drilling me? Aren’t you supposed to be doing some work right now?”

“~So are you~” You teasingly sang back to him, giving him a kick under the table just for good measure.

Jisung threw your balled up paper ball back to you. “Let’s just get back to what we were doing so we can leave. I don’t wanna end up like him.”

He nodded over to the end of your table where a student had fallen asleep mid-chapter. His nose twitched and he snorted a little bit. You knew exactly what Jisung meant, you didn’t want to be at the library at 11pm on a Tuesday either; it was your better judgement that told you.

“Can we get food after this?” Jisung asked after approximately five minutes of “working.”

“Sounds good to me.” You quipped, barely allowing your eyes to leave your computer screen. You found that you always had to try you best to let him not distract you. He was really good at that.

You slid a stack of index cards in front of him. “Ask me these? I’m having a hard time getting the Latin names down...if you’re not busy?”

“Nope!” He piped, and shoved his notebook away.

“Okay!” He said with determination and a little bounce. He fixed his oversized hoodie before starting, looking adorably lost in the fabric.

He asked you the first question, but it barely met your ears. There you were, getting distracted by him again.

screw you Han Jisung, you thought to yourself.

☆。*。☆。

“I just don’t understand how you make sense of all that crap, I could never be a science major like you are.”

“--And I could never understand production like you do.”

“And this is why we work.” Jisung grinned with smiling eyes while he opened the library door for you. “I’m starving, I can’t stop thinking about--”

“--Y/n??” A voice called from behind the two of you.

The two of you whipped your heads back to see a loveable looking blonde and freckled boy bounding to catch up with you. It was Felix, your lab partner from zoology. The two of you were nothing more than classroom friends, but his friendly kindness was always something that brightened up your terrible 9 am lab.

“Felix!” You beamed, holding the door so it wouldn’t close on him. “Are you here studying for the exam as well?”

“Oh yeah, I just...my brain couldn’t take it any more,” He sarcastically mimed his head pains, “I just need to get some sleep now.”

“I just don’t get how they expect us to know all of those phyla like its nothing.”

“I know right?’ He chuckled.

Next to you, Jisung silently poked at the elevator button to go down.

“Is it alright if I head down with you guys?”

“Of course!” You motioned him in.

Once the doors had closed, the three of you found a different corner of the small box to plant yourselves in.

“shit-sorry, Felix, I didn’t introduce you, this is Jisung.”

“Hi!” Felix shone, and Jisung gave him a curt nod back.

Felix waved to two of you goodbye, leaving you in the nighttime snow. You noticed that as Felix walked away he had a little bounce to his step; and you couldn’t help but crack a little smile.

“Our usual?” Jisung asked you with a little edge to his voice.

You linked your arm around his, letting out a little shrill sound when the fabric of your two coat sleeves met. “Sounds good to me!” You nuzzled up into him while both of your bodies’ heat intermingled.

The two of you walked on under the streetlights which illuminated the falling flakes in streams of light. You never loosened your grip, as had become your habit lately when the two of you walked around. Jisung never seemed to mind; the two of you had been mistaken for a couple more than enough times thanks to it. When it did happen, it didn’t phase you at all. Being close to Jisung was like second nature to you.

The whole walk over Jisung never uttered a word, which was uncharacteristic of his usual boisterous self.

“Is everything okay?”

He sniffled, “Yeah, I think I just got kinda tired out of nowhere.”

“Ah.” You mouthed, and squeezed his arm a little harder.

After a moment’s silence, he somberly announced, “If you’re in the same class as him, maybe you should study with him.”

“Huh.” You tsked. “Yeah, I mean I never thought about that before...I guess that could do me some good.”

You looked slightly up to him: a product of him being slightly taller than you. His brown eyes remained stoic, and you couldn’t figure out why. You hated it when he wouldn’t tell you what was wrong, but he was also stubborn at letting up.

“But thank you for helping me tonight! You know that I reeealy appreciate it.” You turned your tone as cutesy as you could--Jisung hated it, but you knew that it could bring a smile to his face.

His gaze softened a bit. “Anytime. You’d do the same for me.”

☆。*。☆。

Jisung rested his head on your shoulder on the bus ride home with his phone weakly held in his hand. One more bump in the road and you knew that it would go flying so you carefully took it into your own lap where it would be safe. You wouldn’t dare moving an inch because you had a feeling that he had closed his eyes. Time had slipped past 1am, and you had to keep fighting yawns yourself. The bus driver had been blasting the heat, so it wasn’t hard at all for you to feel cozy.

You glanced down at his open hand in his lap. It looked exactly like he was beckoning for you to scoop it up in your own. You wondered what what happen if you did. What would he think of it? Would he think anything of it? You had held hands before, but every time you had it had been under purely platonic pretenses. If you just grabbed it now, what would the pretenses be then? The two of you cozied up on a bus: that was something that couples did.

You shut your eyes closed tightly and tried your best to banish all the thoughts clouding your head.

Jisung’s hand twitched, looking even more inviting.

screw you Han Jisung.

☆。*。☆。

[7:14pm]

jisung: you want to come over? Changbin is cooking and i don’t wanna eat whatever he’s making alone

[7:31pm]

me: sorry, I’m studying with Felix at the library, I think that we are gonna be here late. It’s all the Latin, I’m drowning in the Latin, Sung.

I’m sorry.

see you Friday once I’m out of this hell?

[7:34pm]

jisung: see you friday.

☆。*。☆。

You pounded on the door to Jisung’s apartment with your phone in hand, the white screen showing you the number that you had worked so hard for.

“Open the door!” You called giddily. “Jisung! I know that you’re in here, we need to celebrate! ~I can treat youuu~”

Just as you were about to knock again, the door swung open, revealing a wet haired Jisung in his grey sweats and tee. His brown strands of hair were scattered around his head while he rubbed at them with a towel.

“Shit! Can’t I shower?” He jested.

It took all your will power not to ogle him more. He looked devastatingly handsome, but you swallowed down how utterly flustered he had made you.

You cleared your throat, “Uh...sorry...” then remembered your phone in your hand. “I got a 96! Can you believe it! I’m even surprised too, when I was taking the test I just got so nervous...”

“All that studying paid off huh?” He cockily rose an eyebrow. “You can go ahead and thank me now, without my help...” He shrugged with a grin.

You invited yourself in and threw your bag down at the door like you usually did.

“Thank youuu” You sung. “Oh! And studying with Felix really paid off too.” You took off your shoes, thinking of how nice it had been to finally study with someone who knew your class topics. Not that Jisung wasn’t helpful, but you and Felix were on the same page. “He knew it all way more than I did, so he was super helpful. I forgot to text him--”

Jisung closed the door behind you with a slam that made you jump. He moved away from you, not meeting your eyes. The air around the two of you suddenly became thick with something that did not feel as excited as you just were.

“...do you wanna maybe watch a movie?” You moved closer. “Or we could get some deliv--”

“--Why even bother coming over here?” Jisung suddenly huffed.

“What?”

Jisung’s words flew out of his mouth sharply, “If he was so helpful? What are you doing here, huh?”

“Jisung, I don’t understand...” Your heartbeat quickened in your chest and you felt anxiety swell there as well. Jisung never spoke to you like this. He never sounded like this.

He growled out a little sound in frustration. “I-I just...can’t believe you--”

“--Me? Jisung, what did I do?” You threw your arms up, genuinely confused.

He ran his fingertips over his temples and let out a deep exhale. “Y/n, don’t pretend like you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Your temper started to become seething and you felt your ears get hot. “Tell me Jisung. Tell me what I did. And while you’re at it, what has been up with you these past few days? Being short with me, and distant, yeah-I’ve noticed...what are you doing??”

Jisung heaved breaths in and out of his chest, then ran a hand through his hair. He still couldn’t meet your eyes.

For a moment, a flash of panic surged in your head, making your heart ache with an unexpected pain. You truly didn’t know what he had meant, and if you had made a mistake, you knew it could mean loosing him. God, that was the last thing in the world you wanted. It always was.

“If I did something wrong tell me because clearly I don’t know!!” You yelled back at him, straining your throat.

He walked up to you, then grabbed your shoulders with a firm grip. Finally, you saw his eyes, brown and soft, holding a type of pain that you hadn’t seen in him before.

screw you, Han Jisung.

“Jisung, I--”

You were shoved by the shoulders in milliseconds to the door behind you, the impact nearly knocking the wind out of you. You gasped in your surprise, but your mouth was immediately shut by Jisung ramming his lips into yours. His hands needily took your face into his palms with his mouth blazing with hunger for you.

It took you a moment to realize what had just happened and steady yourself after being so startled. His lips were so soft and warm, your brain had a hard time recognizing that he was really doing this. His haste made no indication of stopping so you let yourself do what you had wanted to do for years: you kissed him back with everything that you had.

As soon as you did so, he let out little desperate moans between your lips in response. You let your arms wrap around his back and he fell into them just right. Naturally you took one of your hands to the back of his head and tangled up your fingers in his hair. God, it all felt so good. Jisung snaked his arms around your waist and pulled you into him with force, crashing your hips together.

The two of you clumsily made your way to the couch where he threw you down and crawled over top of you just as fast. He moved to your neck then traversed around your skin, sending shivers all through your body. Your hands eagerly found his back where you dug into him, wanting to be impossibly close. To your side, he carefully took your hand in his, weaving all of your fingers together.

Jisung pressed down into you and began to suck at your neck without holding himself back. It was such an intense feeling that couldn’t help but moan out something you didn’t know you could. You felt his mouth turn into a grin on your skin while he continued. It stung a little when he removed his lips, but he gently kissed each mark as if he was soothing it once he was done. He stopped to admire the little array of purple bruises he had made.  

“I want you all to myself.”  Jisung’s voice was hoarse, but still honey-covered in desire.

“What are we doing?” You asked him in breathless disbelief.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” He whispered, and appeared to calm his breaths. “I don’t care.”

"You don’t?”

“Why should I?” He cocked his head and used his free hand to caress your face.

“--That this could change things between us?”

“You don’t want it too?” He looked a little confused.

You felt a warmth rush to your cheeks.  “--No! I do, I do...trust me.”

“Then can I kiss you some more?” Jisung grinned down at you as loving as he always had, but this time it meant something slightly different.

“...please.”

He lowered back onto you, connecting your lips once more. Jisung’s tongue languidly smoothed onto yours and you already felt intoxicated by the feeling. You tightened your fingers around his.

I’ve always been yours.